Zone Of The Enders Fan Fiction ❯ Zone of the Enders: Triad 2177 ❯ Fallen Angel ( Chapter 10 )

It began drizzling. Lazarus twirled a small knife between his fingers, crouching low on the roof of a building. Below, the street was empty, only the quiet hum of the streetlights to provide any noise. Lazarus let out a raspy sigh and stood up. He stooped low and leapt several feet in the air, crossing the gap between the buildings and landing on the gravel roof of the next. He continued to run and jump, crossing three blocks effortlessly. He landed, finally, and crouched low, watching the street below. Several men stood around a doorway, each with a hand in a coat or pants pocket, some their hands resting along their waists. A car pulled up and stopped in front of the men and a door swung open on the side of the car facing the building. Lazarus grinned, a wide smile growing on his face.

Miryhn walked in the Seven-Eleven, shaking the drizzle off of his clothes and hair. He pulled a small slip of paper out of his back pocket and read it over carefully. After doing so, he strolled down each of the isles, picking up random food items. The clerk looked up from a magazine at him, then looked back down, indifferent. Miryhn stopped at the chip section.

"Alright, the bimbo wanted 'cholesterol free sour cream and onion', the moron wanted 'sodium free BBQ flavored'," Miryhn reviewed to himself. He glanced over the rack and found both types. He grimaced and gagged to himself thinking about the taste of BBQ flavored chips. He smiled slyly and picked up two bags of regular chips, nothing removed. "Sorry, guys, they were all out of that shit. I had to buy the normal stuff," he said to himself with a laugh.

Miryhn walked up to the counter and dumped the two bags of chips, a case of Coca-cola, three boxes of snack crackers, and a bag of mini-pretzels on the counter. The clerk sighed and picked up each, scanning it into the register.

"Got the late-night munchies?" the clerk asked, just being chatty.

"Nah, I got the late-night bitchies on my case. I ate all the snacks again, when it was really my boss who did most of the eating, and they blamed it on me and made me run out in this weather to get more," Miryhn griped, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, whatever," the clerk said, totally devoid of interest.

Lazarus watched as a man with a neatly trimmed beard and pin-stripe suit walked out of the building. He slowly climbed into the car, one of his men slamming the door behind him. Lazarus reacted instantly, tossing his knife from the top of the building. The knife flew fast, slamming into the bullet-proof glass on the driver's front side. The driver glanced at the knife, halfway in the glass and shuddered. A small red light on the handle beeped a few times and the knife exploded with enough force to throw the driver out the other side of the car's window.

All the men yanked out their guns, one scrambling to find the key to open the door to the car where the beared man sat, terrified and slightly burned from the explosion.

"Who decided to put him in a car with no handles?" the man trying to find the key yelled.

"Just get him out, we'll handle the-" another guard yelled before a knife landed square in his neck. He collapsed to the ground with a fountain of blood coming out of his neck.

The guards turned and watched the man fall. While their back was turned, Lazarus opened his hand, a fan of knives in between each of his fingers and threw each off with incredible accuracy. Two hit a guard in the spine, another a guard in the back of the head. The remaining guards turned around to see this and opened fire. Lazarus leapt up, landing on the roof of the car. He spun around, throwing a knife in each interval degree of the turn. Each knife landed in a guard's heart or neck, all collapsing and spurting blood. The bearded man let out a scream, pounding on the glass of his car door. Lazarus leapt again and landed on the ground behind the man with the keys. Lazarus whipped out another knife and cut him three times in the back, ending by stabbing him in the back of the head. The bearded man flushed, his only means of escape dead.

"How much?" Miryhn asked, taking out his cash card.

"Twelve-eighty-four," the clerk replied.

"Damn, you guys charge a lot for some damn food, don't 'cha?" Miryhn commented, shaking his head and handing the clerk his cash card.

"I just work here, I have no say in the price, sir," the clerk said with a sigh.

"Well, quit. Find a more decent job. Now hold on a sec, I wanna get a Slurpee," Miryhn said, dashing over to the Slurpee machine.

"Can't, my dad owns this place. He put me here so he wouldn't have to deal with all the moron customers," the clerk said, glancing over his magazine while Miryhn prepared his Slurpee.

"Stupid? You don't mean me, do you?" Miryhn said, putting the top on the cup.

"Naw, I mean the really stupid ones. I had a lady come in here and grab a muffin and ask me how much it is," the clerk said, in a storytelling tone. "You know how much they are?" the clerk added, pointing to a sign above the muffin display that said "Muffins, twenty-five cents."

Miryhn chuckled. "You serious? If you're serious, I'll buy you a Slurpee myself," he said, grinning.

"That's nothing. I got a lady who comes in here every two weeks and searches through all the milk. I'm serious, all the milk! She says she wants the latest possible expiration date. What does she expect? Milk that expires in the next decade?" the clerk rambled, chuckling.

"Now if that's true, I'll buy you a bag of chips with it," Miryhn said, placing the cup on the counter.

"I call her 'The Milk Maid'. She hates that name," the clerk laughed.

Miryhn laughed in agreement as the clerk scanned the Slurpee into the purchase, swiped the card, and handed it back to him.

"Got anymore oddballs?" Miryhn asked as the clerk bagged the food.

"Well, I got a guy who came in here protesting cigarettes. Turns out he worked for a nicotine gum company," the clerk said, handing him the bag.

"Eh, that's not that odd. I'll take your word for it being funny," Miryhn said, carefully holding the bag in his arms.

"Just be careful out there. News said the weather will get rough tonight," the clerk said as Miryhn bumped the door open with his shoulder.

"A little rain never killed anyone," Miryhn said, smirking.

"It's not the rain that'll kill 'ya. It's the other stuff," the clerk said, looking back at his magazine.

"You mean like lightning and wind knocking stuff over?" Miryhn said, standing in the doorway.

"Yeah, that, whatever. Have a nice night," the clerk said, waving his hand carelessly.

Lazarus leaped up, throwing another dagger with an explosive handle onto the sunroof of the car. He backflipped and started to fall as the explosion erupted upwards. He fell through the rising smoke and fire and landed on the roof again, throwing a knife inside the car as he dropped. He landed, looking inside the smoking, flaming roof carefully. Inside, the beared man was coughing, burned, and about to pass out from the smoke inhalation. Lazarus grinned widely and fanned a few more knives on his hand. He threw each off into the man's body, one landing in the heart, another on the neck, and the last square on his forehead.

Lazarus leapt off the roof of the car and whipped his cloak around his body again. His hood had blown back a little, so he pushed it forward. He leaned against a streetlight, smiling at the death and destruction in front of him.

A moment later, a silver-haired man walked around the corner. He happily snacked on a bag of pretzels, but at seeing the exploded car and all the men's dead bodies, he gaped in awe and picked up his pace walking down the sidewalk.

Lazarus laughed and walked to the sidewalk, blocking the way.

The silver-haired man's eye widened and he moved to the middle of the street, parallel the death scene.

Lazarus laughed and leapt to the middle of the street.

The silver-haired man raised an eyebrow and hefted his bag of groceries up, getting a better grip.

"Miryhn Troxel!" Lazarus yelled.

The silver-haired man took a step back at hearing his name yelled from the stranger.

"Die!" Lazarus yelled, fanning some knives in his hand again.

"Hey, now wait a sec. If this is a mugging, I only have like seven bucks left in my cash card. Otherwise, all I got is this bag of food. You can have it if you want," Miryhn said, offering the bag.

Lazarus sighed and tosses a knife at him. Miryhn whelped and held the bag in front. The knife landed near the bottom, hitting the case of sodas. The bag made hissing sound and the bottom slowly got wet.

"You asshole! Coke isn't cheap these days!" Miryhn complained.

Lazarus growled and tossed the other two. Miryhn dropped the bag and dove behind the remains of the car. He snatched a handgun from one of the dead guards' hands and leaned against the car.

Lazarus didn't hesitate and leapt as high as a three story building. He tossed a few knives from the height at Miryhn. Miryhn cringed and leapt into the middle of the street again, one hitting the car and the other hitting the back of his leg. He tumbled to his chest and reached back, pulling the knife out and tossing it aside. Lazarus landed on the hood of the car and tossed another at him. Miryhn rolled to the side and scrambled to his feet. The knife had actually gone halfway into the pavement, which indicated to Miryhn that this man's skill was either highly refined or his knives were incredibly sharp. The pain in his leg reminded him of that fact very quickly.

Lazarus leapt off the car and dashed up to Miryhn in the blink of an eye. He kicked Miryhn in the jaw, sending him flying back in an arc. Lazarus swiped at him with a knife in each hand, cutting him in the side and the front of his left leg. Lazarus, using the same inhuman speed as previous Seraphs, kicked him again in the stomach before he landed, keeping him in midair, and cut him twice more on the arm and the chest. He then roundhouse kicked and sent Miryhn into a pile of trash cans.

Miryhn cringed, the pain excruciating. He fell forward, behind one of the trash cans. He kicked one of the trash bags out the side of his cover. In that instant, Lazarus threw two knives at the trash bag while Miryhn stood up from behind the trash can and fired several times at Lazarus. Lazarus, caught off guard, was hit four times, one in the chest, one in each arm, and another in his lower abdomen. He fell backwards as the drizzle started to give way to rain.

Miryhn hobbled out from behind the trash can and over to Lazarus. He looked over the man's cloaked body, glad that he was now either dead or dying. Miryhn then whelped, remembering his promise to himself and a sad look drew on his face.

"Damn, did I do it again? Have I just seem another man killed by my own hands?" Miryhn said, frightened by his own deeds.

Lazarus laughed. His body shot up, thrusting a knife past his Miryhn's head. A few strands of hair were cut and fell to the ground. "So it's true, you promised you'd never see another man die by your own hands with your own eyes ever again. That's why you wear those silly spectacles as a means of personal metaphor against such an act. What a coward," Lazarus' raspy voice said, his cloak hood falling back.

Miryhn staggered back, gripping the cut on his arm, the handgun shaking in the grip of his other hand. Lazarus' true appearance was anything but not odd.

Lazarus rose as lightning struck in the distance. The thunder echoed and the wind picked up. He tossed off his cloak and threw it into the wind. Lazarus didn't wear a uniform like the rest. His body was entirely encased in a gold colored, skin-tight space suit with silver armor sections along the waist, breast, shoulders, and greaves. His boots, gloves, and gauntlets were also silver. But the part that struck fear into Miryhn's heart was his helmet. Lazarus wore a helmet that resembled a fishbowl. Inside, backlights came on and his face was revealed. His skin was as pale and cracked, ripe with decay. Part of the flesh around his jaw and along the sides of his face were missing, showing the rotten and decayed flesh under his skin. His nose was crooked and his hair was thin and frail, also pure white. The part that frightened Miryhn the most were his eyes, they were pure white orbs. No iris or pupil, just white orbs in his eye sockets.

Miryhn shuddered, stepping back from the sight.

"So now you see what it's like to be dead, cherub. That's why I'm known as 'Lazarus', I came back from the dead!" Lazarus yelled, fanning out his knives again.

"That's impossible...how can that be?" Miryhn asked, frightened and puzzled at the same time. Lightning struck again, thunder echoed all around. The wind whipped around in a maelstrom, blowing Miryhn's hair around in all directions. He wiped the strands off his face and aimed the gun at Lazarus again. "I don't care if you're dead or what! I'm gonna make sure you stay that way!" Miryhn yelled, unthreateningly. He was too terrified to sound serious.

"You show potential, maybe he was right about you after all. Come, if you are truly the Angel of Death, then unfurl your wings and show me, before God, your maker and redeemer!" Lazarus yelled grandly.

Miryhn growled and fired several times. As expected, Lazarus easily dodged each shot, possessing the same agility as the other Seraphs.

"Folly, cherub, folly. Show me now your seraphic radiance and I shall let you go. It's as simple as that," Lazarus said, lightning and thunder crashing around them.

"I'm not angel, dude. I'm nothing more than a mere man. I have no wings on my back and I am damn well not a seraphim," Miryhn said, still aiming with a serious look on his face.

Lazarus laughed, a gaping hole showing in the back of his throat which you could see his spine through. "Why do you shun that which you are? Why do you refuse a blessing from the Almighty?"

"Because maybe I didn't want it! Maybe someone gave it to me without me asking!" Miryhn yelled angrily.

"Ask, and it shall be given unto you. Seek, and ye shall find. Knock, and the door shall be open unto you," Lazarus chanted.

"What?" Miryhn replied.

"Fool. No one tasted the Manna of Heaven without consent. You asked for the power and it was given to you, don't lie. You couldn't handle it and now you hide it, running from its effects! I'll see to it that you can't deny it anymore, I'll see to it that you are made to be a true angel once again!" Lazarus yelled, laughing.

"I'm not hiding anything! I am telling the truth, I'm nothing but a simple ship pilot and I'm not going to be used by you!" Miryhn said, angry.

"I'd like to see you stop me," Lazarus said, raising his knives to his face.

"I'll try," Miryhn said, unsure of himself as he aimed.

Lazarus laughed loudly as Miryhn opened fire again. Lazarus zig-zagged from one side of the street to the other, dodging easily. He leapt only a few feet into the air in front of Miryhn, put his hands together, and slammed Miryhn over the head with his combined fist. Miryhn lunged forward and staggered back, firing two more shots. Lazarus sidestepped each and punched Miryhn in the face twice. He backflipped twice away from Miryhn, throwing a knife in mid-flip, it landing in Miryhn's right shoulder. Miryhn cringed and pulled it out, his accumulative injuries almost making him pass out. Lazarus fanned two more knives out from his gauntlets and threw one at Miryhn. Miryhn panicked and simply fell to the ground to avoid it. Lazarus threw his arm back to toss the knife and Miryhn spotted the grocery bag nearby. He reached in and pulled out a can of soda from it. As Lazarus let the knife fly, Miryhn tossed the can at him. The knife split the can and the soda sprayed out, covering Lazarus' helmet. The knife was knocked off course and landed harmlessly on the sidewalk.

"Damn you!" Lazarus yelled, trying to wipe the soda off the helmet.

Miryhn saw his chance and got to his feet. He ran off and around the corner, towards the waterfront.

Lazarus growled loudly and leapt up, easily flying over the corner and into the street Miryhn ran into.

Miryhn looked over his shoulder and in a flash of lightning, saw Lazarus in midair. He fired the last of the magazine, two of the three shots actually hitting Lazarus in the arm and shoulder. He tossed the emptied gun aside and kept running on pure adrenaline.

Lazarus landed and stumbled over, impressed by Miryhn's cunning and accuracy so far. He laughed to himself and took off after him as Miryhn ran into a oil port along the Harperstown waterfront.

Miryhn slowed, a cramp in his abdomen. He jogged slowly, stopping alongside an oil trailer.

"You're scared. You're running from death, cherub. There's no need to fear it, you are Death itself!" Lazarus said, laughing as he caught up to Miryhn.

"I'm...I'm...I'm just a..." Miryhn tried to say, out of breath.

"You still refuse your fate?" Lazarus asked, puzzled.

"I'm not like that anymore, I don't want to be like that anymore," Miryhn pleaded, half dazed and about to faint.

"Fine, I'll give you one last chance, cherub. Come to Heaven's Gate, outside Green Ridge County. There you'll show me once and for if you are man or divine," Lazarus laughed, stepping back a few steps.

"I'm not...I don't want to....I just want to..." Miryhn said, dazed.

"But first, your final test. Live through this and I'll further believe you're truly the Angel of Death. Go, with God," Lazarus said, laughing and leaping into the air. He threw a final knife at the oil trailer beside Miryhn. It planted itself into the back of the trailer, a small light beeping on the end of it.

Miryhn's eyes widened and in a final adrenaline-powered move, he leapt up and began heading for the water. The knife exploded, causing the trailer and soon half the oil port to explode along with it. Miryhn was lost from view in the explosion, but Lazarus, watching from a building across the street smiled in delight.

"It is him, it has to be," Lazarus said, laughing maniacally.

Miryhn woke up on the couch in the lounge. Vera was over him, staring into his face.

"Hey! He woke up, get in here!" Vera yelled. She looked back down at Miryhn and smiled brightly. "I so glad you're alright. When the police found you washed up on the beach down the coast, you were rushed to the hospital. They found Jim's business card in your wallet and called us immediately. You've been out for about a day or two," Vera explained, sitting on the coffee table beside the couch.

Miryhn sighed and rolled his eyes. The biggest waste of money he had ever seen Jim do was those business cards. They were professionally printed and even embroidered with fancy lines and lace. He even printed his full name, "James Michael Hauser", with an Esq. at the end; Jim was actually a Jr. and had no royal or noble blood. It was his way of hamming up the appearance of it. Miryhn never dreamed one of those dumb things would help people get him where he needed to be.

Miryhn opened his mouth to comment, but he noticed the bottom portion of his face was bandaged fairly tightly. He moved the other limbs and his legs and arms were all wrapped tightly in bandages. He leaned his head forward and witnessed the bondage with his own eyes.

"Lean your head back, silly! You're gonna make your burns bleed again if you move too much," Vera said, pushing his head back onto the pillow.

Miryhn sighed and a muffled groan came from the bandages over his mouth.

"I'd love to hear how you got so fucked up just trying to buy some groceries. Guess I'll have to wait a day or two while you heal up. Gotta love modern medicine, stuff heals almost instantly. Problem is, you got cuts, burns, bruises, and they even found you had high triglycerides! You gotta lay off the junk food," Vera preached, shaking her index finger at him.

Miryhn groaned a muffled groan.

"Oh, and some bad news, most of your hair was singed off. You gotta grow it all back," Vera said, poking his head.

Miryhn screamed a muffled scream.

"I'm kidding! It's all there, just really damaged. I'm gonna have a ball doing your hair back to normal," Vera said, giggling happily.

Miryhn whined a muffled whine.

Jim walked in and slapped Miryhn on the shoulder.

Miryhn's shoulder stung with pain. He screamed a muffled scream.

"Damn fool. You better have a damn good explanation after the little stuff heals and we can take off like eighty percent of those bandages," Jim explained.

"Let him rest, captain. I'm going to make sure he has a comfortable recovery," Vera said, pushing Jim out the door.

"Damn good explanation! Better have one! I'm not paying your hospital bills this time!" Jim quickly yelled before being pushed out.

"There, better. Stress-causing people like him make recovery go slower. Now, just mutter if you need anything. I left a pencil and notepad here if you need to write something for me to read," Vera said, placing the pencil and pad on his chest.

Miryhn sighed and tried to reach for it. He struggled, but could barely move.

"Oh, sorry. Just mutter and I'll hand it to you then," Vera said, putting the pad and pencil back on the table.

Miryhn sighed and laid there quietly, dozing. He was glad they put him on the couch, it was probably the most comfortable piece of furniture in the ship.

Vera sat in a chair and began humming loudly, trying to find the remote to the TV.

Miryhn cringed and tried to ignore it.

Vera hummed even louder, looking under the chair and over the coffee tables.

Miryhn sighed and muttered, wiggling his fingers.

"Oh, need something?" Vera said, immediately paying attention to him. She reached over and handed the pad to Miryhn's left hand and pencil to the right.

Miryhn wrote on the pad "I've heard sea rodents with better pitch than you. Quiet down and let me sleep" and showed it to her.

Vera read it and grumbled. She snatched the pad from him and slapped him as hard as she could.

Miryhn screamed a muffled scream.

A few days passed and eventually Vera was allowed to remove some of Miryhn's bandages. He had healed for the most part, but had to keep the ones on his forearms, legs, and midsection on. Vera had been having a ball with Miryhn's hair in the past few days and currently she had styled it into a French braid since Miryhn had no means to stop her. Besides, he was getting a good feeling from knowing his hair could have other things done to it than just a ponytail.

Miryhn sat on the couch in the lounge in his unbuttoned and open black shirt and his pajama gym shorts. The big slaughter and explosion at the oil plant was just a blurb in the news since then, but Miryhn made it habit to keep up with it.

Vera walked with a tray of a bowl of tomato soup, some Cheez-Its, and a can of Pepsi. She sat it on the coffee table in front of Miryhn and sat in Jim's smoking/reading chair, smiling.

Miryhn leaned forward and began eating. Vera watched him happily.

"You've recovered quite well. You even got your appetite back," Vera commented, crossing her legs.

"Yeah, thanks for all the help. I dunno if Jim is willing to be as generous," Miryhn said in between chews and slurps of soup.

"He doesn't care about it by now. He's been mad 'cuz he had to pass two jobs in the past two days because he can't get the ship off the water. It seems he's pretty helpless without you," Vera giggled.

Miryhn rolled his eyes. "That idiot can't operate a microwave without one of us helping him. I swear, without us, he's as good as dead," he said, shoving a spoonful of soup in his mouth. "Well, we can leave pretty soon. I just have something important to do," Miryhn said, finishing his meal.

"What's that?" Vera asked, her face changing to concern.

Miryhn stayed silent and stood up.

"What?" Vera asked, more demanding.

"Personal stuff. Gotta see an old friend and a new one," Miryhn replied, walking for the door.

Vera looked puzzled, but decided to leave it at that. As long as she knew Miryhn, he was never one to talk about his personal matters or his life before joining the ship. Prying it out of him was useless, he'd change the subject.

"Miryhn, I have a question, just real quick," Vera said, moving to the couch.

Miryhn stopped in the doorway and looked at her.

"Why's your hair all silvery and white-ish? It's not bleached or colored, I didn't see any other color at your roots. I've seen you have that hair color since I come on board months ago and by now your roots should have grown some. Did you get that pigment altering cosmetic surgery? How is it like that?" Vera asked, curious.

Miryhn sighed and looked down. "Would you laugh if I said it's Metatron exposure?"

Vera did laugh. "You gotta be kidding me. People don't lose hair color due to Metatron!"

Miryhn rolled his eyes and left the doorway.

"Hey! Come back when you have a good reason, alright?" Vera yelled before grabbing the remote.

Miryhn changed into some pants and put on his shoes. He walked out of the hangar, buttoning his shirt up. Outside, the rain continued to come down. It hadn't let up since it started a few days ago. At the edge of the hangar, he opened an umbrella and walked into town.

Minutes later, he stepped inside the awning to Doctor Ricdeau's place and hit the door buzzer.

"Yes?" Ricdeau's voice said over the intercom.

"I got twenty pizzas with your name on 'em. Pay up," Miryhn said into the intercom, jokingly.

Ricdeau opened the door and smiled his usual, constant smile. Miryhn stepped in and shook off the water from the umbrella and set it in the corner.

"Well, well, my favorite patient. What can I do for you today?" Ricdeau said to Miryhn, leading him into the kitchen. Both sat at the table and Ricdeau offered Miryhn his small cup of herbal tea. Miryhn shrugged and accepted, drinking it down in one gulp.

"Doc, I didn't come for treatment, I need some 'tools'," Miryhn said, setting the small cup down.

"You're not suppose to drink it all in one gulp, you have to sip at it. It's much more satisfying like that. By the way, what have you done with your hair?" Ricdeau replied, grabbing another small cup and pouring it full of tea from the pitcher.

Miryhn glared. "Don't avoid the subject, doc, this is serious," he said in a serious tone.

Ricdeau sighed and sipped at his cup. "Miryhn, didn't I tell you before you left that if you don't want to live 'the life' anymore that you have to avoid people who are in it?" Ricdeau asked, still smiling.

"Yeah, I know, doc, but what if they came to me?" Miryhn pointed out.

"Then that's a different case. If it's one of your enemies, then you have to deal with them before they hurt something or someone you love. It's all part of the trade, kill or be killed, no?" Ricdeau replied with a chuckle.

"I really don't feel like laughing. I got a bad cut on my stomach," Miryhn said, setting a hand at his stomach.

"Still, I'm disappointed that you could be so careless. I'm willing to help, but with a heavy heart," Ricdeau replied, filling up his cup again.

"Doc, I'm serious, I didn't let anything slip. I doubt it's someone from one of my jobs. This guy has some other connection to me," Miryhn replied, offering his cup for some more tea.

"'Some other connection' to you? You don't say," Ricdeau replied, rubbing his chin and pouring more tea into his cup with the other hand.

"It's some guy calling himself a 'seraphim'. Three of them, in fact. Two came after me around last week and the other a few days ago. That's how I got so fucked up," Miryhn replied, pointing to his bandages.

Ricdeau's eyes widened. Ricdeau had realized something and Miryhn knew it. "Well, we can't have that anymore, now can we?" Ricdeau said, getting up from the table.

"Doc, what is it? What are you hiding?" Miryhn asked, serious and curious.

"There is nothing to hide between master and student, except different levels of awareness and different moves, no?" Ricdeau asked with a chuckle.

Miryhn thinned his eyes and stood up from the table, gulping down the rest of his tea.

Ricdeau opened a large storage closet and walked inside, searching through a corner of the room. Miryhn strolled out of the kitchen into the living room. The living room was of Japanese pagoda theme with lots of paper walls, bright red furniture, and even an indoor stream running across the room with a little bridge going over it. No one had to use the bridge, it was small enough to step over. Miryhn always knew Ricdeau was a great guy and a respectable sensai, but he really had strange hobbies and living styles.

"I assume you'll be wanting this hunk of junk back," Ricdeau's voice said from the doorway. Miryhn turned around and caught something in midair. It was a long object inside a drawstring velvet bag. Miryhn pulled open the hole and took out an old katana. The handle was lightweight balsa wood wrapped with a hardened white cloth. The handguard was gold and as he pulled out the blade, it shone brightly, reflecting sunlight at him.

"Geez, did you polish this thing lately, doc?" Miryhn said, pulling it all the way out and waving it around for a moment. The whole sword was as light as a pencil, made from lightweight titanium composite; the same metal used in LEVs.

"Yep, got bored one day and sat down to touch up on it. You and that thing use to be inseparable. Never thought you'd come back for it," Ricdeau said, walking out of the closet and up to Miryhn.

"Yeah, I could use this, but I also need a piece. The one I got is good, but I tend to waste a lot of ammo with it. Large clip size, ya know?" Miryhn said, twirling the sword around in a show-offy manner and slamming it back into the sheath.

"Tisk, tisk. Miryhn, didn't I always tell you that if you can't do it with one bullet, don't do it at all?" Ricdeau said, shaking his head and heading back to the closet. "You're resorting to the military's style of shooting: fire enough bullets at something and it's bound to get hit eventually, you know!" he yelled from the closet.

"Aw, come on, doc! These people aren't exactly what you'd call 'normal' people. I know it sounds crazy, but somehow, they can move fast as shit and dodge bullets even!" Miryhn said, placing the katana across his shoulders and hanging his arms on it.

The shuffling in the closet stopped. Miryhn raised an eyebrow. He heard Ricdeau murmuring about something and then went back to shuffling around. Ricdeau then came out with three handguns in hand.

"Okay, I got the Benelli, Walthier, and Jericho. Pick your poison," Ricdeau said, smiling.

"I got a Walthier already. I guess I'll take the other," Miryhn said, taking the Walthier P99 from Ricdeau's grasp.

"Need ammo?" Ricdeau asked, reaching into his back pocket for a box of bullets.

"Naw, my boss has plenty. He won't notice if some is gone," Miryhn said, stuffing the gun into his belt.

"Anything else? Choke wire? Taser? Knock-out rounds?" Ricdeau said, nodding over at the closet.

"Got a M79 back there anywhere? I might need it," Miryhn said, joking.

"Nope, fresh out," Ricdeau replied, laughing. He walked over and shut the closet, locking each of the three heavy locks on it.

"Well, that'll do it for now, doc. Thanks again, I'll be sure to come back in one piece to return this stuff," Miryhn said, starting for the door.

"No need. Keep it, I don't need it anymore," Ricdeau said, holding up a hand. "Besides, I have too much as it is. I might as well give some away."

"Alright then, I'll do that. By the way, have you heard from Ester?" Miryhn said, walking into the hallway to the door and grabbing his umbrella.

"She's on Antillia last I heard. Someone said she's working for a big-name corporation eliminating 'competition'. That's all she's allowed to tell me," Ricdeau said, picking up and pouring himself some more tea.

"Damn, must have just missed her. I was there only a little while ago," Miryhn said, holding the umbrella in one hand and the sword in the other.

"Well, I wish you luck. Show no mercy for the accused and plenty for the innocent," Ricdeau said, raising his cup and sipping it.

"I will. So long, doc," Miryhn said, stepping out the door.

Ricdeau sat alone at the table a moment, sipping his tea. When his cup was out, he sighed and stood up. He walked through the living room to his back room where he kept all the medical supplies. He opened a large storage freezer in the back and searched through the frozen-over shelves. He stopped near the top and yanked open a drawer, inside were a few tubes of preserved blood. After pulling a few up, he found the one he was looking for; the one labeled "Troxel".

"I knew one of them would be back. The only problem is...where did three more come? Unless they're using...that imperfect formula," Ricdeau said to himself, staring at the tube of blood. "I'll just have to run some tests," Ricdeau said with a smile, shutting the drawer and closing the freezer.

Miryhn strolled back in the ship, dropping the umbrella in one of the tool bins along the wall of the hangar. He made two quick stops at Jim's personal storage and his room, then sat down in the lounge with his two weapons and a box of ammunition. He took out all the magazines in the box and a box of bullets and began loading the bullets into the magazines.

Jim heard him come in and walked in the room, standing over the table.

"Alright, and just what the hell do you think you're doing with my bullets?" Jim asked, folding his arms. "And while we're at it, what are you doing with my small collection of hand grenades?" he added, pointing to the small, round objects in the box.

Miryhn ignored him and slammed a full clip into one of the handguns. He pulled the top back, loading the chamber. He pointed it at Jim and said,"Bang!"

Jim growled. "Answer my question!" he snapped.

"Personal business. I'll pay you back for each and everything I take from here," Miryhn said, putting the gun down and loading another clip.

"'Personal business'? Since when do I cater my services to that? I let you three run around like hooligans doing whatever you want and even let you keep those damn tin cans, which luckily ended up getting us a better gig than salvaging, and for what? 'Personal business'? What 'personal business' is so important that you have to take out a loan on my property?" Jim explained, pointing to the box at the end.

Miryhn sighed and slammed the newly loaded clip into the other gun. He pulled the top and twirled it around on one finger, leaning back. "Jim, you know I don't talk much about my life before I applied here, right? Well, I don't plan to," he said, twirling it each way one spin.

"The hell is that suppose to mean? I just want a simple explanation!" Jim said, folding his arms again.

"Jim, how come you have a wedding band on your finger, but you've never told us about nor introduced us to your wife?" Miryhn asked plainly.

Jim gripped his right hand and growled. "That's none of your business!" he snapped.

"And so is my personal shit," Miryhn replied.

Jim made an angry face. "Look, you tell me something or I'm not letting you leave!" he ordered sternly.

"Fine, listen up," Miryhn said, leaning forward and putting the gun down. He grabbed another magazine and a handful of bullets and began loading it. "A long time ago, I trusted the wrong people. They promised me something I believed in with all my heart and I took them up on that offer. What happened in return was that they betrayed my trust and did something to me I can never forget. This 'thing' they did to me affected my life in ways I can't even begin to explain; but I know one thing, I'd do anything to keep it hidden away after I worked so hard to bury it in the first place after I saw what it did to me and those around me," Miryhn explained, putting the clip down and picking up another with another handful of bullets to load it. "Now, someone who obviously knows about that secret threatens to uncover it. And, believe me, if he does, all of us on this ship are threatened if he does," he added with the utmost seriousness.

Jim glared at him.

"Don't believe me, eh?" Miryhn said, monotone.

"No, no, I have no reason to doubt you. You're right, you never talk about your personal stuff, so I have no reason to doubt you. However, that is such an odd story, I'm having a hard time interpreting it," Jim said, scratching his head.

Miryhn didn't reply. He kept grabbing handfuls of bullets and loading them into clips.

"Obscure as it is, I guess I can't argue that reason with you. You do a damn good job of keeping your mouth shut and your shit in the dark," Jim said, looking off to the side.

"So are you going to let me do this, no more questions asked? Because I can guarantee you that's all you get," Miryhn said, grabbing the last clip and began loading it.

"Sure, fine, whatever. Just remember that you're going to pay back every last cent of whatever you take and waste, alright? And while you're at it, don't get getting yourself killed or fucked up anymore than you are. I'm not paying anymore hospital bills" Jim said, shaking his index finger at Miryhn.

"Sure, fine, whatever," Miryhn said, mimicking Jim.

Jim rolled his eyes and left the room.

Miryhn placed the last clip, fully loaded, on the table and sighed. "Can't guarantee I won't get killed, though," he murmured to himself.

Miryhn walked into the hangar. Inside, Nash was busy fixing something at the workbench and Vera was sitting in Freya, most likely in a simulation.

"Yo," Nash greeted, not looking up from his work.

"Tell Jim I probably won't be back before nine," Miryhn said, passing by the workbench.

"Sure, whatever. Where 'ya going anyways?" Nash asked, eyes still on his work.

"Nowhere in particular," Miryhn replied.

Nash stopped working and lifted his head. He turned around to Miryhn. "When you say 'nowhere in particular', that means somewhere that's either going to get yourself in trouble or Jim in trouble," he said, twirling a screwdriver between his fingers.

Miryhn laughed. "Not him, nope, just me this time!" he replied, calling Nash on that fact.

"Then that means you're going to go off and nearly get yourself killed like the last time with Ester," Nash said, arching his brow.

"Maybe, maybe not," Miryhn replied, walking over to Masamune.

"Don't be obscure, just tell us where you're going," Vera asked as Freya's cockpit opened.

"That's a secret. It's better no one knew," Miryhn replied, tapping the button to open Masamune's cockpit. He rested the sword on the side of the cylinder.

"And why are you taking the Frame? This reeks of suspicion," Nash said, standing up from the workbench stool.

"I need some fast transit. Jim's cars won't make it where I'm going," Miryhn replied, hopping inside and adjusting himself in the seat. He reached over and grabbed the sword, setting it on the floor of the cockpit.

"Miryhn, you aren't even fully healed! You're going to open your wounds again if you go do something strenuous!" Vera whined with concern. She hopped off Freya and jogged over to Masamune.

"I'll be fine, don't worry," Miryhn said, reaching to close the cockpit.

Suddenly, Vera grabbed him by the shirt collar.

Miryhn froze and turned his head to her.

"That night, with the explosions and when all those men were killed. It has something to do with that doesn't it?" Vera asked him in a whisper.

Miryhn nodded.

Vera sighed, her expression softening. "Just come back alive, ok?" she commanded, her face suddenly stiff with seriousness. Vera let go, pushing Miryhn over a bit. She turned and walked up to the tool bin with the umbrella.

Nash stared at each of them. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked, puzzled.

Miryhn sighed and closed the cockpit. Masamune sprung to life and stood up a little, slowly hovering out of the hangar on low power. In one motion, it took off from the opening of the awning over the ship and off into the rainstorm.

Vera held the umbrella under her arm and started walking out of the hangar.

"Hey! Where are you going now?" Nash asked, still puzzled.

"Out, I wanna walk around some. Maybe pick up a snack or two," Vera said, opening the umbrella as she left the hangar and walked onto the cement under the awning.

Nash scratched his head and went back to work. "What a bunch of weirdos we are," he said under his breath.

"ADA, access Ganymede GPS. I need to track a place called 'Heaven's Gate' somewhere in Green Ridge County," Miryhn commanded.

"Accessing...location found. I shall place a marker and head there on autopilot," ADA replied.

"Good. Just stop outside the area, I'll go in on foot," Miryhn replied.

"The flightpath is set, autopilot engaged," ADA said.

Miryhn sighed and looked at his left hand. He flexed his fingers a few times, feeling the bandages loosen up a bit. He sighed again and starting running his fingers through his hair a few times.

"Damn, I have really bad split ends," Miryhn commented, holding a few strands in front of his face.

The quiet hum of the Frame and ADA's soft beeps and chirps replied.

Miryhn tossed the strands back over his head and tapped his fingers on the side of the cockpit. No doubt about it, he was already bored; or anxious.

"ADA?" he said quietly.

"Yes?" ADA replied.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?"

Miryhn thought to himself a moment. "ADA, who made you? Everyone knows that three years ago only BAHRAM had access to Orbital Frames. Why are they suddenly popping up now and in the hands of the scum of the solar system? And at that, why is it the scum that use to be in TEMPEST, BAHRAM's much lesser equal," he explained.

"Since you are the registered Runner, I can give you access to that record. I was produced for whatever intended use was planned by the person I was to be delivered by. My creator was Nereidium Universal Technologies," ADA replied.

Miryhn raised an eyebrow. "Now why is Nereidium selling Frames to these people? With no BAHRAM around, are they desperate for money? No, that can't be it...damn it, what's going on?" he asked, struggling to make sense of it.

"Perhaps I can clarify. I was created by Nereidium, but bought by a buyer who, by company records is classified, and was asked to be delivered to Mister Tarver Urenbach," ADA said.

"Hmm, so somebody with a lot of scratch on hand is buying Orbital Frames for thugs, gangsters, and all the other assorted low-lives. This person is insane! That kind of power should never be in the hands of these people," Miryhn replied.

"And what about you?" ADA asked.

Miryhn scowled. "Shut up!" he snapped. "I'm a good guy! I'm benevolent! Now come on, do you have any more information?"

"It is highly unlikely that they are distributing them to just anybody. According to your captain's log, you told him that Rupert Longbottom and Vernon Laysuite were ex-TEMPEST members. Also, according to military records, Tarver Urenbach was a Nereidium Frame test pilot," ADA said, pulling up several screens displaying the information.

"Are you trying to tell me that someone is buying Frames and putting them in the hands of people who, at one time or another, were in a Frame or came in contact with one?" Miryhn asked, scratching his head.

"That is the most likely theory," ADA replied.

"Well, I'll be damned. This is making no sense at all," Miryhn sighed, laying a hand on his head.

"The target location is coming up. Arrival time is less than a minute," ADA said.

"Good, thinking makes my head hurt," Miryhn whined, rubbing his head.

Miryhn stood under the awning to the entrance. He raised an eyebrow, holding the transmitter close to his face.

"It's a....'family fun park'?" Miryhn asked, dumbstruck.

"According to local telephone book listings, yes," ADA replied over the transmitter.

"Great, I love go-karts and miniature golf," Miryhn said with sarcasm, pushing the gate open.

"I'll be on standby," ADA said.

"Got 'cha, out," Miryhn said, pocketing the transmitter.

Miryhn sighed and walked into the opening area. There was a large carousel in the middle of a round series of buildings. The buildings were clearly marked as gift shops, a restaurant, and tickets for each ride and the like. A path ran around the carousel, branching off paths that lead to the golf course, go-karts, and the midway. The rain seemed to pick up, pouring harder and in larger quantities.

As he admired the scenery, there was a yell and three gunshots sounded. Miryhn leapt back, grabbing a gun from his belt. He spotted a man behind a trash can as the man fired twice more. Miryhn leapt forward, firing three times in mid-leap. One shot hit the trash can, another hit the man in the chest, the third went through the hole in the trash can and into the man's shoulder. Miryhn landed on his side, his eyes pinched shut. He shuddered and held his chest a moment, terrified of breaking his pact to himself.

Miryhn stopped heaving and crawled to his feet, putting on his sunglasses. "Can't shoot what I can't see," he murmured to himself. Adjusting a small dial on the top of the right lense, a system activated and his lenses became light amplifiers. Taking the other gun off his belt and holding it in his other hand, he almost instinctively fired of to his right side. There was a guy on the roof of one of the gift shops readying a sniped shot. The man was hit, lost his footing, and fell to the ground, landing on his head.

"Impressive!" Lazarus' voice echoed as the carousel suddenly burst with light. Happy organ music played as the carousel began to spin.

Miryhn closed his eyes at the light, his glasses would probably blind him while amplified. He moved the glasses to the top of his head and held a hand to shade his eyes. Lazarus wasn't on the carousel.

"Up here, where you belong!" Lazarus laughed.

Miryhn looked up to see Lazarus balancing perfectly on the small pointy pedestal on top of the carousel. As it rotated, so did Lazarus.

"What do you mean 'where I belong'?" Miryhn asked.

"Up here, cherub, up here. Closer to heaven, closer to God!" Lazarus laughed again.

"How many times to I have to tell you? I'm nothing special, just a regular guy," Miryhn said in a monotone.

"I've had enough of your foolish ideal of being like the rest of humanity. And that's simply because you are not! Through both our veins runs blood given to us by God himself!" Lazarus explained, still rotating with the carousel.

"Whatever. Why'd you call me out here?" Miryhn asked, getting a little irritated.

"To make you realize once again what you really are. I'll make you your true self again even if it kills me!" Lazarus said, still rotating.

Miryhn was getting sick of this. He raised his free hand, aiming at Lazarus.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that, cherub. You have a purging to complete first. Do that and you'll have passed my first test!" Lazarus said, snapping his fingers.

Suddenly, two guys shut and bolted the gates. In the park, several guys stepped out from behind trash cans, rooftops, benches, and whatever else could be used as cover.

Miryhn raised an eyebrow and glanced around at all of them. He looked back up at Lazarus. "Purge? Purge what?" he asked, puzzled.

"It is your duty as the Angel of Death to execute those not necessary for humanity to exist. These men were all payed very well to kill you and the only way to get out of this is to kill or be killed. The way out is through...into the void of your soul," Lazarus said, raising his arms up.

"Make sense for once!" Miryhn yelled, hot with anger.

"It will make sense once you let go of your foolish desire to remain human! You hide what you really are and as long as you keep hiding that, then nothing will make sense!" Lazarus replied with the same anger.

"Shut up, nothing makes sense now, what makes you think it will later?" Miryhn screamed, opening fire.

Oddly, Lazarus didn't dodge or even move. Miryhn fired three shots; two missed entirely and the last just barely nicking Lazarus' side.

"Wrought with emotion? Anger can't hide the sadness in your heart. You know I'm right and you know you want to go back to it! Now prove it!" Lazarus said, leaping off the carousel. The moment he left the top of it, the carousel died, the lights and music ending. The moment this ended, every one of the guys opened fire.

The first few shots missed, hitting the ground around him. Miryhn staggered back, the bright lights of the carousel left him seeing spots and had to wait to adjust. He staggered back, blinking frequently, praying that their aim was poor. Suddenly, two shots nicked his right shoulder and left hip. He shuffled back slightly faster and saw a bench to the right he could cover behind. He leapt behind it and took a few deep breaths. His eyes finally adjusted to the low light again and he put his sunglasses back on.

He peeked over the bench and shot another guy behind a trash can three times. He then dual-fired, nailing a guy behind a trash can and another who had stood up from behind a bench. He sunk back down behind his cover and reloaded. He looked over the bench again and saw a plastic icicle from the roof of the ice cream shop above one guy who was hiding behind a bench. Miryhn fired at the icicle until it fell, impaling him. All that was left were the ones on the roofs.

He stood up and ran as fast as he could, figuring that a moving target is harder to hit. He fired continuously at the one on the roof of the snack shack, causing the guy to fall backwards off the roof. Miryhn continued to run along the path around the carousel, firing at whoever was on the closest roof. Each guy was taken out fairly effectively except the last one was hiding behind a pedestal on the roof of a gift shop. Miryhn stopped on the path and lined up a shot.

Suddenly, there was a click of a gun behind his head. Miryhn froze.

"Drop it, cowboy," the voice holding the gun behind his head commanded.

Miryhn dropped his guns and slowly began to put his hands up. In one quick motion, Miryhn leaned over, kicked the guy in the chest, and spun around, drawing his sword in the process and cutting into the guy's stomach. At the end of the spin, he tossed his sword at the guy on the roof, who had come out of hiding and was about to shoot Miryhn in the head. The sword went straight through his chest. The guy on the roof staggered around for a few steps, unable to keep his footing. Miryhn held out his sheath and moved a small switch on the side. This caused the metal opening of the sheath to become magnetized, pulling the sword out of the guy and pulling it back to Miryhn. He caught it in midair and sheathed, doing a front roll, grabbing a gun and finishing the guy on the roof off with three shots.

Miryhn sighed and checked each magazine. He had another two pairs of magazines ready in his belt as well as two grenades rolling around in his pocket. He strolled along the path and saw Lazarus' footprints in the mud leading further into the park. With a sneer and a twirl of his right handgun on his finger, he ran off after the maniac.

Out of breath, he staggered to the end of the path. It lead to the go-kart track. Stepping under the awning to the line, he stopped and wrung some of the rainwater out of his hair. From behind the ticket counter, another thug stood up and drew his gun.

Rolling his eyes, Miryhn shot him twice without even a flinch. One shot hit his shoulder and the other went into his head through the cheek. Miryhn arched his brow and looked at his hand. He was briefly shocked and scared of how accurate his aim was just then.

Suddenly, three men came charging down the path behind him. They each had submachineguns in hand and opened fire on him. Miryhn leapt over the railing and behind the counter where the previous thug had shot at him from. He stood behind it, crouched, and when the machine guns stopped, he popped over and opened fire from both guns. The two on the left were shot in the chest, the one on the right in his stomach. Miryhn stopped and saw this and fired one more shot into his head to finish him off.

Slumping against the counter again, he reloaded each handgun and took a few deep breaths. Thinking back to how he just killed probably fifteen men, he wondered just what in the hell was possessing him to kill so carelessly. Was it simple human power of survival or was Lazarus succeeding in what he set out to do?

He shook off his pondering when he heard the charging of another wave of thugs coming up the path to the go-kart track. Miryhn groaned and pulled a grenade out of his pocket. He pulled out the pin and leisurely tossed it over the counter. He counted to three in his head and listened as it exploded, probably knocking four thugs to the ground. He popped up and stuck his guns into an aim, looking at each of the bodies. He bit his lip and cussed to himself when one of the thugs stirred, shooting him twice in the back.

He slumped once more behind the counter, now a little upset. He wasn't sure if he was just frustrated or if he was worrying too much. He had no idea why he even bothered to come here and he had no idea what Lazarus meant by him "purging" either. All this was getting on his nerves, but at the same time, he was worrying about his "condition". His accuracy seemed to be increasing naturally, even more so as his life was being put in greater and greater danger. He cussed to himself again and slammed his fist against the counter. There was no way he'd let it get out of control now.

Just then, he looked up and saw Lazarus, standing on a rock along the side of the go-kart track, tossing a knife up and down in his hand.

"Laying down on the job? I'm disappointed," Lazarus said with his usual monotone,"This place should be knee-deep in corpses by now, Angel of Death. Why aren't you fighting for your life as if it were dearest to you? Why aren't you purging as I hath commanded?"

"Fuck you!" Miryhn shouted in a sudden burst of anger. He raised his gun and fired three times. The first two shots hit Lazarus in the left arm and nicked the side of his abdomen, the third missing entirely. Lazarus stared back, smirking. Miryhn knew he was somehow mocking him. He could have easily dodged any of the shots he fired up to that point. Miryhn was quickly becoming mentally strained, being put through such frustration and confusion.

"Pathetic! You so easily execute your fellow man, but when you face me, you cower like a pathetic human," Lazarus said, tapping his left foot.

"No matter what you say, I'll live through this and I'll kill you!" Miryhn cried out, enraged to the point he was almost in tears. "I don't want to know why you're doing this to me anymore, I just don't care!"

Lazarus happily laughed and raised one of his faint, decaying eyebrows. "What do you mean? That you finally give in to your true self? Are you saying you'll finally just accept what you are and join me?"

"What?" Miryhn replied sharply.

"It's simple, cherub. You're the missing angel in our Seraphic Order, the Angel of Death himself, the seraphim Metatron incarnate. So long ago you were blessed with the persona and power of that seraph, his essence placed in your blood, just as I was given Gabriel," Lazarus explained. "All these men are unworthy to live among men anymore and I lured them here to face your judgement. You have willed them all death, just as God hath commanded and have performed well. That is what a 'purging' means, cherub," Lazarus answered with a smile.

Miryhn's eyes widened behind his light amplified sunglasses. He couldn't take it anymore, now that the truth behind his being here was revealed. Anger and frustration seemed to be blurring into madness. At that moment, he screamed as loudly as he could, gripping the sides of his head. He didn't care anymore about anything: why he came there, why Lazarus did this, what the point of it was, or even his own well-being.

Miryhn then shivered, shuddering with inner pain. He couldn't take it anymore, he knew what would happen if he continued this mad quest to cover his past: he'd only end up awakening it again. Placing one of his guns to his head, he sighed and covered the rage up in a serene look on his face. He saw Lazarus take aback in surprise and grinned. Miryhn grinned for a second or two at Lazarus, almost a non-verbal middle finger flip, and pulled the trigger.

Vera walked along the sidewalk, carrying a bag of groceries. The rain beat a steady beat on her umbrella along with the click of her heeled boots. She sighed a long sigh and glanced down at the sidewalk, wondering about Miryhn.

"Shouldn't think about him too much, he's a big boy, he can handle himself," Vera said to herself, giggling softly.

She was lying to herself. She knew Miryhn did some rather stupid things at times, often reckless and endangering his own life. The most recent being his job with Ester, which only yielded Masamune and no cash. Before that, he often flew the ship through such dangerous situations, you'd wonder if he was more concerned with himself getting through than the whole crew. In that sense, he wasn't really a team player and was always isolated from the rest of the team in a way you couldn't bring to words. Of course, no one on the crew was fully a team player, but the degree of social isolation he put up was what made him quite distant.

Thinking of this, Vera was suddenly depressed. She had realized that Miryhn was more than just a slacker freighter pilot who cracked stupid jokes, always got the shopping wrong, and did stupid stuff. He was a normal human being, just like her, who had thoughts, feelings, and emotions. She could only imagine what he was feeling that he should keep all that's happened to him inside.

Just then, a trash can was knocked over in the alleyway up ahead of her. There was the sound of an old man moaning in pain.

Vera jogged up to the alleyway and looked down to see an old vagrant laying on a soggy cardboard box. He was gasping heavily, moaning every two breathes or so. His clothes were tattered and soaked, his beard and hair long and thin, and melancholy bags of skin under his eyes.

"Sir! Don't move, I'll get some help!" Vera said, clenching her teeth.

"Don't you dare, young lady!" the man snapped, pointing a shaking finger at her.

"What do you mean? You could die!" Vera exclaimed, reaching for him.

"Stay back!" the man replied, swatting her hand away. "I want to die right here. I'm sick of living like this, I'm sick of being like this. I made a big mistake a long time ago and I wanna die right here, dying with no dignity, just like I deserve!" he added.

"What do you mean?" Vera asked, confused.

"Young lady, don't trust everyone you meet nowadays. You're bound to just be a victim, just like me. You'll be taken advantage of, made into something you aren't, and put through things normal people can't even imagine!" the old man rambled, his complexion flushing. "I'm not even human anymore, I'm just an animal!"

"Sir, you're not well, let me go get help, just stop sputtering this nonsense and let me help!" Vera commanded.

"If you want to help, then you'll just stay away! Don't come near me, go and warn others! Spread my warning to all!" the old man rambled some more before heaving a final breath out. He fell limp and his breathing stopped.

Vera blinked a few times, confused and saddened at watching the man's death. In her former line of work, she saw this most of the time, so it wasn't that much of a hit to her feelings. However, considering her depression before seeing this, she started to cry.

Suddenly, the soggy cardboard box moved a little. Vera took a step back, startled. A cat, no more than a year or two old, stepped out of the box. It was gray with a white underbelly and its eyes were a dark blue color.

Vera smiled through her tears and squatted down to examine the cat. "Kitty!" she said happily, her sniffing and sobbing ending.

The cat looked up at her and stood there, frozen.

Vera reached forward and touched the side of its face gently. The cat relaxed itself and purred softly as Vera then patted the top of its head.

Remembering her wits, she then pulled her hand back at realized this cat could have a disease. She slowly walked backwards in her squat. The cat purred and followed her at the same pace she walked backwards. Vera panicked and stood up, taking a step to the side. She then noticed the collar on its neck.

She squatted down again examined the collar. On it was recently updated tags showing it had all its shots and a name tag that said "Peniel".

"Peniel, eh? Odd name for a cat," she said, petting it again.

The cat purred in pleasure.

"I guess John Doe there was your owner, huh?" she said, now smiling again.

The cat sat down and licked its pawn.

Vera glared at the cat. "You're soaking wet and yet you lick yourself?" she asked it.

The cat looked up at her and then off in another direction.

"Why am I talking to you?" she said, smacking her forehead. She sighed and took the cat in her arm as she stood up, holding the umbrella in the other. "I'm going to give you a good home then. Can't leave you to fend for yourself, now can I?" she said, smiling. "Don't you worry, kitty, I'll look out for you!"

Just then, Vera's thoughts went back to Miryhn. She knew she shouldn't have let him go off on his own like that, but she only knew that he'd find a way to keep her out of his way. She didn't care where he was or what he was doing, she was going to bring him back alive. She nodded to herself and put the umbrella in her hand that was holding Peniel. With the other, she reached in her pocket and grabbed Freya's transmitter.

"ADA?" she said into it.

"Yes?" ADA replied through the transmitter.

"Going to go pick up a stray, get over here," she replied.

From behind his sunglasses, everything was blue in the world. It seemed so easy for him, to put the gun to his head, and to spill so much blood for such a tiny hole. His problems did have a solution, you know. His life would be fixed, in one determined flash.

But the chamber was empty. All his salvation gave him was a dead "click" sound. He was still alive, the world was still blue, but with a sort of fuzzy feel now. He felt both relieved and angry at the same time. He lowered the gun and stared at it. He hadn't counted the clip as he shot at the last few groups of thugs and didn't realize he emptied it. This was either unbelievable coincidence, he thought, or some sort of divine intervention.

"You see? You cannot die, God will not will it. You are death itself, cherub!" Lazarus said, still tossing his knife up and down in his hand.

Miryhn shuddered, crippled with conflicting emotions. In an instant, he stood up, tossing the empty clips aside and throwing the last pair into his guns. In one thought, he quickly laid to rest all the conflict in his mind. That thought was to kill Lazarus and seal his past once again.

"Enough!" Miryhn said, once again calm and composed. "If I really am 'death itself', then I judge you to die!"

Lazarus draw a puzzled look on his face. "What?"

"Well, you know, I'm going to kill you...because of all that...you know...stuff you just told me...or something," Miryhn said, trying to rationalize it all.

"Then you accept it, huh? Well, then I suppose you wouldn't mind purging the last of these sinners, would you?" Lazarus said, tossing the knife in his hand backwards, it hitting the side of a go-kart parked further up the track. The knife beeped three times, but didn't explode. Instead, with the third beep, four more men popped up from various hiding places: one from behind a rock, another from the tree, one hunched inside a go-kart, and the last on the awning to the line.

Miryhn growled, his conflicting feelings and frustration taking over again. "I've had enough of this! Just face me like a man!" he screamed.

"That's the problem, cherub, I'm not a man. I'm an angel," Lazarus said, leaping high into the air. He did a backwards somersault and ran off over the fence of the fun park. Right after he leapt, each one of the four thugs began to close in on him. Two had handguns, the other two had baseball bats.

Miryhn, now even more angry that Lazarus was getting away screamed in rage. Thrusting a gun to each side, he fired three shots from each gun. Two shots from each gun hit a baseball bat thug in the chest and the last one in their heads. Miryhn then leapt forward and did a handspring off the rock Lazarus stood on, drawing his sword and landing behind the rock as the remaining two thugs opened fire. As soon as they stopped, Miryhn leapt over the rock and landed between the two of them, slashing widely twice. The first slash cut into one thug's stomach and the second slash actually cut off the other thug's arm. He drew a gun and kicked the one-armed thug to the ground, firing four shots into his body. Behind him, the other thug pointed the gun at him and didn't hesitate to shoot. Miryhn, so sick of being put through this, then decided to just let it out. It drew up in him like a warm feeling and suddenly everything seemed to slow down around him.

The thug only had time to gasp in terror as his target side-stepped the shots with inhuman speed. The next thing he saw was his opponent's gun put against his forehead. Three shots were fired, and he saw nothing.

Miryhn tucked the gun back into the back of his belt. He sighed a long sigh and wiped some of the blood splatters off his face and sunglasses with a shirt tail. Behind him, he heard the one-arm stirring. In a purely rage-inspired feat, he turned and leapt up, stabbing the thug in the heart as he landed.

As he pulled the sword out and resheathed it, he stepped back as the corpses' chest now spurted a fountain of blood. It lasted for a moment or two, sending some onto him. Miryhn looked at his bandaged hands, now smeared in the blood of what Lazarus deemed sinners, and sighed. Tears welled up in his eyes, realizing he had gone right back to what he had left behind. Lazarus pushed him to this and he embraced it, just as Lazarus said he wanted to do. Perhaps we was denying what he really was, perhaps there was no way to avoid this fate. His mistake of trusting the wrong people blessed, or cursed, him with what Lazarus wanted. He had no choice now but to embrace it.

Miryhn shook his head and dropped his hands. Of course he didn't want to embrace this, he didn't want to do this. His very survival depended on the death of these men, but did that make him selfish? Did that make him unworthy of the redemption he sought for so long?

He looked at his bandaged hands again. The rain had washed off the blood, almost as if God himself was cleansing him of his sin. It was obvious, these deaths were justified if that was the case. But was it because he did it in self-preservation, or because God truly deemed him to be the Angel of Death?

Just then, an ominous figure hovered overhead. Miryhn looked up and only muttered,"An Orbital Frame?"

The figure was majestic, almost angelic. It was a brilliant white with gold armor platings similar to the Seraphim uniform. However, this one included an extra pauldron on each shoulder and there were three pairs of thruster-wings on it's back. In its right hand was a long sword and in the left was a regal shield.

Miryhn sneered and knew it had to be Lazarus. No one would put up a big angelic theme and then fly over in anything less than that. He chuckled at how corny Lazarus must think and reached into his pocket for the transmitter to Masamune.

"ADA?" he said into it.

"Yes, Miryhn?" ADA replied.

"It's shoooowtiiime!" he said, smirking.

"What are you talking about?" ADA asked.

"Just get over here, ok?" Miryhn said with a sigh.

Miryhn breathed heavily, now flying Masamune at his target: the Frame that just passed overhead. Lazarus was now his obsession. This man did this to him and now he was going to pay dearly.

As he closed in on the fleeing Frame, Masamune drew its katana. Aiming it straight ahead, the blade began to charge. With a small aiming adjustment, Masamune fired a beam from the sword and it shot the fleeing Frame in one of its wings.

"May I ask how you created that attack?" ADA asked.

"A little trick I cooked up once upon a time. Burst mode transferred through the conduits of the sword. Neat, eh? I call it the Sword Beam," Miryhn said, grinning.

"Quite aptly named," ADA said.

"Yeah, I couldn't think of a better way to describe it," Miryhn laughed.

The other Frame whipped around, its backside smoking from the shot. The two Frames faced one another, inanimate gaze meeting the other.

"Hmm, just as I thought, you have an Orbital Frame too. You were the one who put Shango and Tarver Urenbach down. I'd expect no less from Metatron himself," Lazarus chuckled.

"You shut your fucking mouth! I kept my murderous side hidden in that fight and I defeated him without killing him. I can't say the same for you," Miryhn screamed with heated anger.

"You think you can kill an angel?" Lazarus said with a smirk.

"Only an angel can kill another, right?" Miryhn replied, a smirk drawing up his face.

"Excellent! You finally want to ascend?" Lazarus cried out happily.

"I'll do it, but only to kill you!" Miryhn said in a cold tone.

"Who's the mad killer now? Me or you?" Lazarus snapped in reply.

Miryhn leaned back in the seat. He was obviously trying to play one of his mind games again. Miryhn had come to realize that this whole experience was nothing more than to drive him to kill again. By pressing him against the wall time and again, he'd eventually have to give up and just use what he never wanted in the first place again: to "unfurl" and kill without conscience. Miryhn knew better, he hadn't "unfurled" at all, every single life he took was for his own survival and justified. Or so he wanted to believe.

"You are! Using me as a pawn like that...who do you think you are anyway? You obviously want me for something more than just a 'cleaner' or 'fixer'," Miryhn said, adjusting his sunglasses on his nose.

"I am? I'm merely the acting messenger for God. He demands you come back to his service. You are the only one who can carry out his wishes," Lazarus replied, the other Frame still floating silently.

"So you set up this slaughter for me to carry out, let my shit get out of control, and go nuts like you and fight for 'God'? Buddy, humanity doesn't believe in 'God' anymore. It's all about your own self and no one else," Miryhn preached.

"That's exactly why God is calling for his angels to come back to him. He wants to eliminate the sinners and create a new Eden across the universe for us, his specially ascended," Lazarus explained,"Three years ago, God entered the minds of a few humans and took the shed blood of his fallen angels and placed it in a few humans of pure heart and mind. You were one of them, Miryhn Troxel. In you is the soul of Metatron, his fallen Angel of Death, and in your blood is his. You are thus Metatron embodied, blessed and true. Come with me and come back to the heavenly chorus around his Almighty. Together we can rid the human race of its blasphemy and vice and make it his perfect creation once again!"

"What the fuck?" Miryhn asked, starting to piece it together. "Blood of an angel? Three years ago? Are you, by some wild stretch, talking about the 'Manna of Heaven' experiment conducted by TEMPEST? The highly unstable combat enhancement agent?" he added, scratching his head.

"What you call an 'experiment', I call a sacrament. You were bound then to Metatron and he to you. What you call an 'experimental agent' I call the golden blood of the eternal himself. Now, cease your inquiries, you have all you need to know. Return to heaven with me," Lazarus said, his Frame sheathing its sword and offering a hand.

Miryhn blinked. "What do you think I am, stupid? I'm not joining any stupid cult. I'm going to kick your ass for putting me through such anguish, then I'm going back to my ship to eat chips and watch a popular reality show," he said, Masamune twirling its katana around a few times in a show-offish manner.

"This is a war, seraph, and we are soldiers in it. You are Death itself and you can come to take whomever life you deem should be taken at any time and any place. There is only one way to save humanity and that is the death of all sinners by your hands. I'll only ask once more to join us," Lazarus said firmly.

"I still refuse. If that's how you want to put it, then I side with humans! The same blood may runs through both of us...the blood of a ravenous beast that wanders, hunting for the blood of sinners...but I refuse to be used by you like that! You're not an angel, you're a damned monster!" Miryhn screamed bitterly.

"Side with humans? Blasphemy! Any angel fallen from grace deserve a chance for salvation and you throw yours away so easily?" Lazarus asked, puzzled. "Fine, I'll allow you to have your free will for now. But, Metatron, consider all I've said and make your decision later. For now, I'll only accept your refuse on the grounds that you aren't well. You need to consider this with clear thoughts in mind."

"Cram it, you goddamned psycho!" Miryhn yelled, Masamune dashing forward and slashing at the other Frame.

The other Frame quickly blocked with its shield and threw its hand to the hilt of its sword. "Don't you see? Rage is filled you and blinded you. If you were really in control of your power, you'd know it," Lazarus said plainly.

Miryhn didn't feel the need to reply. Of course he was in control. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on with him and he damn well knew it. At the least, he wanted to vent on Lazarus and at least get in a few hits. The storm had slowly been kicking up again and lightning flashed, followed by rolling thunder. Masamune dashed back again and flew up to the Frame again. This time, it spun around once, cutting from the opposite direction. It followed up with two more slashes, one from above and another diagonal before finishing the combo. The other Frame blocked the first but the shield failed with the next two attacks. It reeled back and threw a few small orbs of light at him. Masamune swatted the first few away and batted one in another direction, but the others shot beams of light into the Frame, freezing it.

Miryhn bit his lip and fought with the controls. "What the hell is going on?" he asked in a panic.

"We are under the effects of the subweapon, GEYSER. The Frame's energy core is being paralyzed," ADA replied.

"Shit!" Miryhn cursed, clutching the half orbs tightly.

The other Frame took the opportunity and dashed into him. Tossing its shield aside, it flew around him, cutting and slashing it continuously. The Frame shook violently as he watched the damage index slowly go down to above half. Just then, the GEYSER wore off and the two Spiegel Betas charged, creating a barrier around the whole Frame. The other Frame's sword struck the shield and a powerful shock coursed across its body. It spun backwards and stopped in midair a few hundred yards away. Miryhn panted, looking at the control panel. The full shield drained almost the whole energy supply and the damage to the Frame was incredibly from the few hits his opponents landed.

"Gabriel won't be defeated by such a cheap trick," Lazarus said, his Frame rising to the same height as Masamune. "But I applaud that, here, you can have it," he added, sending a spray of blue energy at Masamune.

The energy merged with Masamune and left it with a bit of a spark for a moment.

"What was that?" Miryhn asked.

"We have recieved the device driver for the subweapon, GEYSER. Shall I switch you over?" ADA replied.

"No, I'm fine as it is. I'll try that later, maybe," Miryhn said, biting his lip. Miryhn knew he couldn't survive another attack like that, so he had to be on the offense from now on.

"Pathetic inferior Frame. Masamune is designed to be part of a combination squad of specialized Frames, you can't possibly stand alone to a general purpose Frame as Gabriel," Lazarus laughed, his Frame crossing its arms.

"That's why I'm here!" a female voice screamed from the side. Freya came flying in at top speed, grabbing Gabriel and tackling it into the trees below.

"Vera! What the hell are you doing here?" Miryhn said, a little angry at her arrival as Masamune lowered itself to just above tree height to examine the long gash the two Frames left.

Freya dashed out of the treeline and flew up beside Masamune, drawing its spear. "Easy, I had ADA track your ADA console's location. I came here to make sure you weren't screwing things up," Vera said with a bit of sass.

"Vera, I kind of in the middle of something important. You see-" Miryhn started.

"So who's this guy? What's with his Frame? It looks weird! Is he a bounty or something? Did Countraus order you to go after him without telling us? Have you seen my new cat?" Vera said, shooting off questions. A small video window opened on Masamune showing Vera holding up Peniel.

Peniel meowed.

"I don't care, go away!" Miryhn growled.

Vera raised an eyebrow at seeing Miryhn over her video link. He looked like hell, crimson flecked all over his hair and face, his hair rain-soaked and stringy. His bandages were still on and she was relieved to see his wounds hadn't opened.

"You ok? What the fuck has you been doing out here?" Vera asked, completely puzzled.

"I said go away! I'm going to make sure this guy doesn't cause me any more problems!" Miryhn commanded angrily.

As Miryhn turned his head to look at the long gash the two Frames had made, Vera leaned in for a closer look at the video link. She looked hard in the space between his sunglasses and his face. Her eyes widened and she shuddered, dropping Peniel on the floor to cover a shriek escaping her lips.

Miryhn turned back to face the console, seeing her terrified look. "What? Just go, ok?" he said firmly.

"Miryhn, your e-" Vera started to say.

"Shut it! Go, now!" Miryhn interrupted.

Vera's look of terror drew into a look of concern as the shriek came out as a whimper. "Miryhn, there's something really wrong with you. Just give up and come back to the ship!" she begged.

"I'm fine! Leave!" Miryhn shouted, again in fury.

Gabriel, having recovered from the attack, rose from the ground and raised its sword above its head.

"Miryhn, I'm serious, you aren't acting like yourself. What happened to your quiet and impassive nature? Where's that dry wit, stupid puns, and bad joke sense of humor? There's something wrong and you better let it go, now!" Vera said, almost in tears.

"Get the fuck out of here, now! I'm in the middle of killing this guy, so lay off!" Miryhn shouted at the top of his lungs.

Vera's lip quivered. Peniel leapt into her lap and pawed her right breast. She shook her head and drew a serious look on her face. "No! I'm not going anywhere without you! You're acting like a crazed murderer and if I have to, I'll stop you!" she said firmly.

Just then, Gabriel dashed into range and swung its sword overhead, attempting to split Masamune's skull. Vera cried out and Freya lunged forward, thrusting its spear in the weapon's path. The attack was blocked and Masamune spun around to face Gabriel.

"Damned succubus! Be gone!" Lazarus yelled as Gabriel spun around, smacking Freya aside with its sword.

"That woman, I swear," Miryhn said, shaking his head. Masamune raised its katana and drew the wakizachi, holding both swords up in a cross-shaped formation. Both swords began to charge.

Gabriel turned from Freya to Masamune and swung its sword over its head in a wide arc. It then dashed toward Masamune.

"That's right, come 'ere!" Miryhn yelled. Masamune finished the charge and then fired a cross-shaped beam from the two swords. The beam slammed into Gabriel and sent it flying backwards, taking considerable damage to its armor. Left reeling and blinded, Gabriel floated there for a split second long enough for Masamune to dash forward and start a five slash combo on it with both swords. Gabriel was helpless to block and took each attack. It spiraled backwards and landed hard in the trees. Masamune sheathed the wakizachi and flew upwards into the clouds. Lightning struck as Masamune came dropping, sword held with both hands blade pointed down, to finish Gabriel with one stab.

"Metatron, you can't win to me, I won't let you," Lazarus said weakly as Gabriel reached upwards weakly.

"This is the end for you! You'll be the first angel ever to die!" Miryhn screamed, oddly excited.

Freya jetted into Masamune's drop path and held out its arms. "Stop it! Miryhn, stop this! What's gotten into you?" Vera cried out.

"Move!" Miryhn growled, commanding her.

"No!" Vera sobbed. "Stop this, you aren't yourself anymore! Come back, be yourself again, ok?" she added, obviously crying.

Masamune broke off from its drop and tumbled to the ground. "Vera, why are you..." Miryhn whispered to himself. Masamune fell to the ground, kneeling, hand holding sword to ground. "Why are you crying over me?" he whispered again. He then cringed, her words had touched him. He ripped off his sunglasses and shook his head violently, gripping the sides of his face. "No, damn it, no! I'm not, I'm not like that anymore!" he yelled, holding his head and leaning over.

"But you are! You accepted it only moments ago!" Lazarus yelled as Gabriel swung widely, cracking one of Masamune's pauldrons and sending the Frame tumbling to its back. Gabriel then stabbed down on the cockpit of Masamune. Miryhn looked up and shuddered, frozen in fear. His life was over, all for the folly of his past.

When his heart finished skipping a beat, Gabriel's sword was about two feet inside the canopy. Miryhn sat, his mouth gaping, unable to process words.

"You really are the Angel of Death, I know it now. You refuse to be like us? Then you'll only be a human the rest of your life. You'll live like one and die like one. As you said, only an angel can kill another and you obviously aren't one," Lazarus said, monotone. "As long as you value human life, like her's over the loss of your opponent's and as long as you writhe in your flesh, callous with regret, you'll never defeat me or anyone else."

Miryhn swallowed. His words rang true and hit hard. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Look at yourself...a fallen angel, weeping at the prospect of his own death," Lazarus said.

Miryhn looked at the rainwater cascading down the sides of the crack in the canopy. In the reflection, he could see himself staring back at himself. His irises were a golden hue, his pupils red. He wanted to scream at the sight of himself, but could only mutter a sob.

"Yes, look long and hard. You've been 'unfurled' ever since you put that gun to your head. Death is what commands your power and Death is what you live by. Accept it and someday you'll be yourself again, Metatron. Now get out of my sight," Lazarus said as Gabriel withdrew the sword. Gabriel then took off, turned, and jetted off into the distance.

Miryhn laid his head back as the rain poured in. He rubbed the side of his face, wishing all that had just happened was a dream. He started to wane consciousness, probably the effects of Manna wearing off. He hadn't been use to it for a while and it probably strained him. The last thing he saw was Vera landing Freya in front of him, leaping out of the cockpit, and running up to the hole. She reached her hand inside as the lights from Freya mixing with Miryhn's now hallucinating vision made a brilliant light appear behind her. He smiled, seeing his guardian angel there in front of him, and finally went to sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he was on the couch in the lounge of the ship and something heavy was wrapped around his sides. He couldn't exactly see what it was in the unlit lounge, but no matter how hard he tried to get off the couch, it got tighter.

"Would you quit moving? You're warm!" the object said.

Miryhn squinted his eyes and got a closer look. It was Vera, with a death grip on him. He sighed, rubbing his face again. He could have used a chiropractor and a shower, one of which he'd obviously have to wait until morning for.

Feeling a little playful, he threw an arm around her as well, hoping to piss her off. Vera only rubbed up closer to him, making a happy giggle. His plan to pester her failed, he sighed and laid his head back. Soon he was asleep again.

When he opened his eyes again, it was morning. The rain had stopped, but it was still cloudy outside. The appearance of Jim walking into view managed to spoil it somehow.

"Getting cozy, eh? I really don't mind two girls going at it," Jim chuckled.

"Grow up, Jim," Vera whined, lifting her head up from behind Miryhn.

"I see you had to go out and drag his sorry ass back in here, didn't 'ya? I also see you brought a new passenger on board," Jim said, pointing to Peniel, who was sleeping in his smoking chair.

"Would you rather go skim the want-ads for another ship pilot or would you rather have him in one piece?" Vera said, poking Miryhn in the stomach.

Jim rolled his eyes and jammed a cigarette into his own lips. He lit up and turned around taking a piece of paper off the TV. He smacked it onto Miryhn's face.

Miryhn sighed and lifted it above his face. "Two boxes of ammunition, three clips, one hand grenade?" Miryhn read aloud in surprise. "What the hell is this?"

"An invoice. You said you'd pay me back. That's all the stuff Vera didn't find on 'ya when she keelhauled you in here by your ankles out of that tin can," Jim said, taking in a breath of smoke and exhaling to the side.

Miryhn looked at the paper and then at Vera. Vera smiled and looked down, giggling.

"What's so funny? You're all hyper," Miryhn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm just happy I have two pets now," Vera said, poking his nose. She then climbed off the couch and skipped off down the hall. Peniel lifted his head and leapt off the couch, chasing after her.

"Hey! Get back here! That thing is yours, you're paying for it!" Jim shouted, chasing after her and the cat.

Miryhn sighed and dropped the invoice to his chest. For no one to freak out at seeing his face, he assumed the effects of his "unfurling" had worn off. He smiled, someone feeling like himself again. If not himself, but a little better. Like a Miryhn version 2.0, or something corny like that.

"And I'm not paying for that fucked up tin can of yours! You people are the biggest horde of leeches I've ever met!" Jim's voice ranted from down the hall.

Miryhn frowned at this and groaned, getting to his feet. He may not have the cash to pay right now, but he did have a shower waiting for him.