Hildegarde Faust's Story

Hildegarde twirled in her maroon dress, its tails spinning like the wisps of a mighty cyclone ready to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting rural town. Around and around she spun, slowly making her way across the elaborate tiling and embroidery beneath her feet like a ballerina, as elegant as a soaring eagle and as mighty as a raging dragon. With a curt click of her heel, she arrested her angular momentum, coming to a full stop near the edge of the balcony. She fastened her hands to the banister with a purpose, each of her fingers clamping down upon the sleek metal rail in a sequential, oddly alluring fashion.

She currently stood upon a small ornate balcony overlooking a massive convention center of some sort, filled with hundreds of moving bodies. The building belonged to the Vongola mob family. From the frantic scurrying of the urbane mafioso and dapper businessmen below, she surmised that the main event was about to get started.

Hildegarde threw a timid glance over her shoulder, a sheepish grin adorning her face. Behind her was a large steel door, and on it in bold red letters read:



She ogled the door with a dreamy expression plastered upon her face. Her lover was a mere staircase away from her. Between Donovan's momentum manipulation and sitting through the constant planning and rehearsal, she hadn't really found a chance to talk to him since they'd arrived in this backwards time period—at least, not alone like she wanted. Honestly, it seemed like her lover always found ways to avoid her. If she were a more impressible girl, perhaps that'd make her feel some type of way. It wasn't like they were technically lovers or anything... well, at least not yet. A girl can dream, mind you.

All she had to do now was walk through that door and climb those stairs and she could be in his arms.

Forever his!

Hildegarde took a step backwards, away from the edge of the balcony and towards the door, fully intending to reach for its handle. As with all things in her life, all she had to do was pull and it would obey her will. It would open for her. All she had to do was pull...

But she stopped, frozen, one hand still on the railing, the other suspended in mid grasp, outstretched, reaching for the door as if it were the cure for cancer teetering on the edge of an endless abyss.

In that moment, two things occurred to her simultaneously. First, Alastor had given her a mission, and Alastor's orders were absolute. He wouldn't much appreciate her presence with such a monumental task left unfinished. Second, three Vongola mafioso had gone through the very same door not ten minutes ago. No doubt Alastor had had his share of fun with them, and under no circumstances would Hildegarde allow her brand new high top dress to be besmirched with blood stains.

No matter how thoroughly you wash linens, the inky spots never really come out.

With a sigh of defeat, Hildegarde turned her gaze forward, leveling a frown at the sight in front of her. She stood towards the top of a massive convention center-style auditorium filled to the brim with walking talking suits babbling and bustling about. Among the assorted guests, she could easily pick out her Rizzo compatriots. They stuck out among the riffraff like sore thumbs.

There was Flandre, of course, easily spotted by her "equipment". Technically, Hildegarde was supposed to be down there along side her, wheeling her around like some sort of tacky chauffeur. Hah! Alastor would have to give the command himself before she would reconsider.

By the look in Flandre's eyes, she was riling herself up about something. Following her gaze, she spotted another Rizzo. The Comet guardian, Miku Rizzo. Interesting.

Hildegarde leaned forward over the railing as elegantly and daintily as she dared, using her hand as a makeshift visor in order to block out the glare of the halogen lamps directly above her. Even though the lights had been dimmed, she was close enough to them that they still managed to partially blind her. She noted out of her peripheral vision, and with thinly veiled revulsion, a few men on the stage below gawking at her.

With a motion as suave as a movie star's and twice as classy, Hildegarde reached into her voluptuous creamy-brown cleavage, removing a small bright red object, spherical in shape. It was a simple piece of hard candy. Without missing a beat, she popped the candy into her mouth, turning her nose up at the undesirables directly below.

If Alastor hadn't ordered there be no casualties, she might've given them the show of their lifetimes.

Having lost her original focus, Hildegarde, her hand still acting as a makeshift visor, rescanned the room, looking for Miku's signature pigtails. Instead, she spotted Alastor. Well, one of his images. Timeline clones, of a sort. Such an amazing and spectacular trick, as expected of her Alastor, an Adonis among men. Hildegarde had to physically stop herself from swooning at the thought of three Alastors existing simultaneously.

The Alastor she spotted was the younger version of her beloved Alastor, a positively adorable little boy of around 12 years of age. Hildegarde placed her free hand over her chest.

"Be still my beating heart!" She muttered to herself, a frenetic monsoon of fanatical frenzy baying at the edges of her voice.

Little Alastor was walking off, away from...

Hildegarde squinted, bringing her makeshift visor closer to her eyes. In Alastor's wake were two fellow Rizzos: Donovan, one of the fastest men she'd ever met, and Trevor, the cute little kid who was deep on the creepy side with a face that rarely shifted in expression or countenance. The two were looking a bit standoffish, though for what reason she could not deduce. Then again, those two always looked standoffish. They always stuck together, like cluster bombs.

Hildegarde flashed a petite smile, fanning her face with her hand in mock chagrin. Cluster bombs were her favorite type of death machines after all, and just the thought of them brought a smile to her face.

With another sigh, she returned to her task, searching through the crowd with her eyes. Things had quieted down considerably, and the Vongolas had begun to take the stage. Their boss, known in the history books as the "King of Flames," took center stage and started speaking.

Hildegarde stifled a cackle.

That kid boss and his cronies were nothing compared to the Rizzo dynasty. Nothing.

And then Hildegarde's eyes landed on whom she'd been searching for the entire time. Her target, as ordered by Alastor.

Her goal.

Hildegarde's eyes grew large, her pupils contracting, her lips peeling back from her teeth. The girl walked onto stage, seemingly none the wiser to Hildegarde's malicious presence several meters above her. She was just as the briefing on the Vongola family had described her. 150 centimeters tall with straight short pink hair and matching eyes.

Those beady little eyes.

The girl who had a ring, something that Alastor desired. And whatever Alastor desired, Alastor would get. Hildegarde would see to it.

Personally.

A limousine pulled up in front of the Vongola Headquarters. Patiently waiting, a swarm of paparazzi flooded towards the limousine. The doors flung open a few of Vongola's bodyguards came out first forming a circle of protection against the paparazzi to let the celebrity out. Nami Gokudera, the Vongola Guardian of Storm, known as Tempest from the band Blast of Tempest began walking out. She had her pop star idol outfit on and pink sunglasses and finally had arrived to the Vongola Headquarters. She and the bodyguards had begun making their way towards the door through the paparazzi.

Ms. Tempest would you like to comment on your new album?! Ignored. Tempest, please give us the insider to your new song! I will just keep walking. Can I get your number gurrrrl? Annoying.

This is the usual routine for fans because they always flocked together and are overbearing. She was advised by her manager to allow get through crowds quickly as possible because once you give one attention, then you'll have to do it for the others. Nami continued her walk down the path to the door in an attempt to get into the headquarters where only certain people are allowed.

A little boy snuck through the crowd and said, "Tempest, Tempest can I have an autograph?"

"Hold it," she said to the bodyguards. She took off her shades, knelled down to the height of the kid.

She pulled out a pen, "What's your name?" He replied Timmy and gave her a poster of herself. She wrote 'Much love to you, Timmy From: Tempest.' Gave him a kiss on the cheek and let him run off towards his parents.

"Let me get an autograph too Tempest!" yelled a few more people from the crowd.

"Let's go," she said to the bodyguards.

Nami gave a sigh of relief after finally entering the Vongola Headquarters. They saw the Vongola Ring of the Storm attached to a bracelet around her right upper arm and let her through.

"There's a lot more people here than I thought," she commented as she looked around.

Upon looking around, one lady caught her eye with her unique Maroon dress. Upon scanning her, she saw her large eyes and pupils contracting staring. The woman made eye contact with Nami and what was in her eyes was a deep intensity that she couldn't describe. Nami quickly broke eye contact, then looked in the direction the woman was staring in. It was center stage with Shaji Ai and the other Vongola Guardians on stage.

"Eh, looks like I'm a tad bit late," she thought to herself.

She quickly darted on the stage to stand with the other Vongola Guardians with a facial expression saying, "hehe, my bad."

"Trevor, Donovan." Trevor looked to the side to see Miku, though she seemed a bit different than usual. Her posture was less relaxed, her eyes more alert, her expression serious. He looked her in the eye as she addressed Donovan, who was standing by his side. "How it Alastor handling the situation?" The words came out detached as her face remained stoic. "Is everyone prepared for the next course of action?"

"Elizabeth," came a resonant baritone somewhere over Trevor's shoulder, as if in answer to her questions. He turned his head, recognizing the voice instantly.

"Alastor," Trevor said, almost in deference.

Alastor, tall and immaculately suited, sauntered over to stand between Trevor and Elizabeth such that the four formed a line of sorts. His forearms were locked behind his back in a reverse arm-fold, his hands gripping his arms at the elbow. He seemed at peace, like the eye of a hurricane idling overhead.

He nodded in response to the boy. "Trevor." He gave Donovan a brief nod as well. "Donovan."

Judging from the commotion near the stage area, more of the Vongola must've appeared. From some of the screams, Trevor guessed that a very special Vongola had appeared. Sure enough, after a few moments, she walked onto stage.

Nami Gokudera. Vongola Storm guardian. Also known as: Tempest, from the critically acclaimed (in this time) band Blast of Tempest. Trevor almost bit his tongue.

WIthout a doubt he had to have her autograph... by any means.

"My younger incarnation will handle himself properly," Alastor said, turning to face Elizabeth. He spoke loud enough to be heard, but soft enough not to draw attention. "And from what I can discern," he continued, looking up towards a balcony above the stage. A woman of dark hair and brown complexion was standing there, looking impatient and generally flummoxed. "It would seem that we are all in position."

"What now?" Trevor asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was a surreal type of excitement in the air. So heavy was the feeling that it was almost palpable. The adult Alastor smirked, showing his canines. To Trevor he looked like a vicious predator that'd finally found a chance to bury its fangs... and that wasn't all that far off.

Some part of Trevor, perhaps what remained of his inner child, tossed and turned uncontrollably in his abdomen like a cacophony of raging butterflies. It got to the point where he had to place a hand on his stomach in an effort to calm it, a perplexed look adorning his face. For but the briefest of moments, Trevor felt as if he didn't belong here, in this room. Or in this city. Or on this planet. For a fraction of a second, he wanted nothing more than to go back to his own time, back to fighting enemies that he knew.

That he hated.

The invaders. Earth's adversaries. They were the only reason the Rizzo were forced to travel back to the past like this.

These Vongolas, on the other hand, were not invaders. They were not the Adversary. That meant they weren't necessarily his enemies... right?

The prospect of doing battle with someone that wasn't an "enemy" but simply a "target"—someone that wasn't to be killed, just sufficiently accosted—didn't make sense to the boy. In fact, it positively confused him. When he fought as a soldier of the planetary military superstructure of the future, it was always to the death: either his, or the adversary's. There was no inbetween. No "sparing of life". Every battle had its designated casualty quota.

It was for this reason that, during the briefing, Alastor had commanded Trevor stay out of this initial skirmish. The goal was never the deaths of the Vongola. This battle was simply a quest for their rings, not their lives, and so was not a domain in which Trevor could reliably operate.

C-Frames are machines of war and annihilation, after all.

Alastor's answer came without hesitation, snapping Trevor out of his stupor. "You stay put," he commanded, referring to the boy. "I do not yet want them to know that with us we have someone who can do what you do, understood?" His voice positively echoed power, reverberating in Trevor's eardrums—though perhaps he simply imagined it. For his part, Trevor nodded in understanding and acquiescence, long since having gotten used to the elder Alastor's seemingly-backwards polysyllabic manner of speech.

Alastor unfurled his hands from behind his back, instead placing them inside his pockets. "As for the rest of us," he began, glancing over at Donovan. "Shall we begin?"

Joel watched as each of his fellow guardians walked, ran, and waltzed on stage. He didn't know if being a little too flashy would make his group seem a little childish to some people. However, he also didn't care. It wasn't as if the older fools who would look down on them for their display or in some of their cases, how loud and outspoken they were, could actually take their birthrights away. Though, Joel had to admit himself, that some of the banter being thrown around was unnecessary, but he decided to ignore it. Most of the people around him were still children after all. As for Cain, even though he had his mic taken from him by his guardians he still looked as if he was having a good time. This comforted the man a little, seeing his friend, who was more of a brother to him, smiling. It was hard for most people to tell, but Cain was having some problems getting use to his father not being around. It also didn't help that people kept on asking to talk to him, only to remind him of his position. It was because of those type of people that Joel kept his mouth closed when he looked down upon something. At least when it came to the boy. He had enough problems. Though, once Nami entered the building, some familiar faces were giving Joel a look of disappointment. He sucked on his teeth, not at her, but at the sleazy old men and woman who looked at him so. He wasn't the boss of the Vongola, so why was he the one to always be stared at. He wished he had been born at least two years later than his actual birth. That had to be the reason everyone looked at him so. Though, seeing as Cain would be an adult in two years, he wouldn't have to wait long before the eyes and ears of people were off of him. Though, what type of image would he give to himself if he just did nothing when asked to do something. This was a formal event after all, and so far, most of the top people in the family were informal. He sighed and put his hand on Cain's shoulder. "Hey. I don't think it'd look right if I corrected her here in front of all these people," he whispered.

"Huh. Naw," Cain laughed. "She's cool right? That's just her being her."

"People are watching though. Remember what type of party this is Cain."

To those words, Cain nodded and hopped off stage, starting his walk towards Nami. He kept his hands in his pocket and a determined look on his face as he approached her and the girl she was signing the CD for. "Hey. Let me see that Mic again for a sec," He said, grabbing the mic without much more warning than that. "Yes. Hello again. So It's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can go shove it up your....."

Before he was able to say anything else, Joel flashed over to him taking the microphone away. "What are you doing?"

"Telling it how it is. What are you doing?"

"Stopping you from acting like a fool."

"I don't know. The only fool I see here is you. You use to be more fun. What happened to the Joel I knew when we were kids huh?"

"He grew up," Joel stated with a glare, "and sooner or later, you're going to have to too. Boss or not, there are images we have to keep."

"Well you know what? I don't even want to be the stupid Vongola boss. So you can take this ring and shove it too. Ugh...Errr." Cain struggled to take the ring off of his finger but, for some reason, it seemed to be stuck. Not that it mattered much, for soon his efforts would be halted.

SMACK!!!!

The area grew silent. No one had expected to see what they had just saw. Not even Joel expected it. Though, expected or not, there was a red mark currently on Cains face, and Joel's hand was crossed. Yes. It happened. With a fast movement and not thinking at the time, Joel had smacked Cain across his face. He only kept his shocked look for a while before going back to his natural frown. "Hmph. We'll talk about this later," He said looking at the boy who was still in shock. "We'll also have a talk," he then said to Namine before walking away.

Cain, on the other hand, had different plans. As soon as Joel began to turn away, he rand for him and tackled him down to the ground. Though, because of the mans size he was quickly put on his own back. Of course, he got one fist across Joel's face before the man held his arms down. His tried moving his feet under the man, sparks following them. Joel couldn't believe he was going to try using his flame against him, but just in case his beliefs were for naught, he flashed to the side of Cain, who quickly got back on his feet ready to attack Joel once more.

"Cain. You should stop," Joel said calmly, nodding slightly to a crowd of people staring at them. "Now's not the time."

With that said, Cain had to admit the man had a point, but also didn't want to stop fighting him. Though, even he knew that this was an important event and decided to walk away. Well, not only walk away, but leave the room entirely.

One person tried to walk up to Joel and discuss what had just happened, but stopped in his tracks after being glared at by the man. "Continue the party," He said rubbing his cheek, giving a slight smile towards how hard the kid had hit him.

After parting ways with Miyamoto Keiko, Sora went to go change into his normal attire and grab his skateboard that he left outside. "It feels sooooooooo good to be out of that godforsaken suit! Now I just need to make sure Alastor doesn't see me," he yelled out. He began entering the Vongola Headquarters again.

"Sir, do you have any ID? You're not dressed for this affair?" a security officer asked.

He made eye contact with Sora, "Welcome Sir Sora, the skateboarding champion!"

"Who am I better than?" Sora asked.

"Tony Hawk of course! Please proceed sir!" exclaimed the officer.

This pattern of ID questioning with officers continued to happen on his way to headquarters, they made eye contact, let him through, no issue, no problem. Walking into room where the Vongola affair was located, he thought about Miyamoto again. 'Ah why do I have to fight a pretty girl? That's not fair! I mean, she's about my height, tan skin, and,' he continued these thoughts while blushing. However, a sight before Sora's eyes caused him to stop his train of thought and lead him to immediate shock.

It was Namine Gokudera, Vongola Guardian of Storm walking directly towards Flandre. 'Oh my God! Flandre will kill her! Sora begun speed walking in her direction and he saw Flandre glance side to side looking for the other Rizzo's, but Sora was too late. Nami opened her mouth to talk to her. 'Now Flandre, please don't attack her yet, please don't slice her up,' he slowly chanted to himself. To his surprise, Flandre kept her composure and conversed with Namine. 'Whew, that went well,' he thought.

He then saw the UniDecimo take the Mic from Namine and say into the mic, "Yes. Hello again. So it's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can shove it up your..." and the Mic was taken.

Sora chuckled at this and said, "Now that's my kind of guy. I'd do something like that if Alastor wasn't here. I heard the Vongola head skates too, doubt he could beat my skateboarding skills though."

SMACK!!! silence filled the room after witnessing the event between the Vongolas. 'I'll just ease my way over here,' he thought. He saw this opportunity while everyone was focused on Cain, and Joel to stealthy position himself closer to the crowd near the stage where the remaining Vongola guardians were located.




"My name is Flandre, but I wouldn't mind being called Flan," replied the girl in the wheelchair.

"Alright, nice to meet you Flan!" exclaimed Nami as she begun writing Flan on the CD cover.

Nami extended her right hand to give Flandre the CD.

"You have a very nice ring, Nami. I'd love to have a ring just like yours, Nami. Forgive me if I try to take it, Nami."

For a moment, Nami paused looked directly into her amber eyes. She was smiling as if she was joking, but the look in her eyes and the repetition of her name 'Nami' made her seem completely serious. Nami then thought: 'Okay, that is pretty weird. I'm sure she meant that as a compliment somehow.'

Nami put on an false idol smile and said, "Heh heh, you're a funny one Flan. Thanks for the compliment. I can't give you mine, but I'm sure there's others rings out there."

Nami handed her the CD, but before she was able to turn around to head back on stage she heard, "Hey. Let me see that Mic again for a sec."

She winked and said, "Of course Cain!"

"Yes. Hello again. So it's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can go shove it up your....."

"What are you doing?" asked Joel as he took the Mic away.

Nami chuckled at this. 'Boys will be boys,' she thought, but then it begun to escalate between Joel and Cain.

SMACK!!!!

Nami saw the red mark on Cain's face, and Joel standing above him. She silently prayed that it wouldn't continue. "Hmph. We'll talk about this later," said Joel to Cain. "We'll also have a talk," Joel told Nami.

An angry expression was shown on her face. "That was a bit much Joel!" exclaimed Nami forgetting that she was at this affair. Cain, then tackled Joel, they went back and forth while Nami watch them thinking about had badly they all looked this moment. Eventually they both regained their senses and stopped.

Nami was tempted to an extent to follow Cain after he stormed out, but after she heard Joel say, "Continue the party," to a man approaching him. She then realized that the next best move would be to do damage control at this affair instead of heading back to a stage without the Vongola UniDecimo. There is now a pretty tense environment in the room for the attendees after witnessing such an event so she decided that as an idol and Vongola Guardian, she should be able to calm the crowd.

"Attention everyone!" she yelled with her announcer/singer voice while putting on the biggest of smiles. "We will be continuing with Shaji Ai's presentation! Would you please give a round of applause and your attention towards the stage!"

Accepting the CD with an outstretched hand, Flandre examined it in her hand. She held the edges by her fingertips, but experimented by putting her index finger through the hole in the middle like a doughnut. "Heh heh, you're a funny one Flan. Thanks for the compliment. I can't give you mine, but I'm sure there's others rings out there." Flandre looked back up at Nami to return a smile of gratitude, but frowned as soon as she saw hers. A false sort of smile she recognized all to well, the kind one put on the faces of children's dolls. This threatening frown, however, was quickly replaced with a someone sinister narrow-eyed grin. "Indeed, Nami..." she mumbled.

Flandre continued to examine the delicate CD with care, as if she were examining a jewel, but experimented with it as if it were a toy she didn't know how to use. Such a nice girl. She couldn't wait to play around with her, perhaps a little more than roughly. She'd have to really bring out the potential the toy had, even if she had to break it, if she wanted to experience her expression.

Yet for some reason, a tiny voice inside Flandre spoke up, a voice she didn't recognize. It screamed Wrong! Flandre ignored it entirely.

---

Ai, though did not show it at all, did not approve of Cain's behavior. What sparked it, Ai wasn't really aware, as Ai had always made the basic assumption that anything a Vongola ring bearer does will be for what they believe is beneficial toward the family or their goals, not that even the guardians, with the exception of Ai, really knew what their intentions were. She decided at some point it would be critical that she brought the guardians and the boss up to speed. In fact, she wasn't entirely aware about what they all knew about her and wondered if any of them were even aware that she was an alien.

Although, the lightning guardian, Joel, seemed to be more sensible toward the situation and attempted to stop the boss from offending a lot of people. His course of action when he felt it was out of hand, however, was questionable, yet Ai didn't think she had the right to question a human's judgement of justification. It seemed to be a rather vague concept that decided what actions may be taken against somebody depending on their own. Certainly, humans didn't have a natural sense for what is essentially a form a karma, Ai would know, having found ways to use the human body that most humans don't know of, like the ability to slow one's heartbeat, something a famous hitman known as "Moretti the Murdered" was fabled to be able to do. Either way, Ai decided that because Joel appeared more sensible that what he did was justified, at least to him, and in the future he will be easier to consult. Sensible, logical people were people that Ai was used to working with, especially because she considered herself the most sensible and logical.

Ai continued to stand as still as a statue on the stage. Only her third eye, cloaked only through illusion, was darting around all over the place. It looked toward the sun and cloud guardians, perhaps deciding by their actions or reactions if they were sensible and logical. Ai then looked toward the storm guardian. "Attention everyone!" she said, drawing the attention of the uneasy crowd "We will be continuing with Shaji Ai's presentation! Would you please give a round of applause and your attention towards the stage!" Another sensible person, noted. Ai wondered if the boss was the only insensible one. It was certainly possible, but unlike her, he couldn't be replaced so easily. Ai, taking the center of the stage, waited until the crowd settled again.

Her eyes swept across the room. Ai had been identifying whom the possible threats were, the Rizzo family, and identified five whom grouped together. Along with the man, Alastor, there had been a younger one whom was very similar, siblings or possibly the same person if time travel was considered. With him was a boy, younger than this body of hers, a young man with short blonde hair and a girl with jet black hair and a serious expression. There may have been more, maybe half, twice or three times as many, yet Ai had not identified them. She did pay some attention a young woman eyeballing her from a balcony (not that she saw her with her own two eyes) rather expectantly. Ai wasn't aware of any particular reason why she was so special to other people, at least compared to the other guardians. The fact that she was probably the youngest meant nothing to her. The young woman must have some sort of special intel, at least on her true identity.

Ai was mostly worrying about (or at least what pattern of thinking was equivalent to worrying) when the Rizzo's would make their attack, which would likely be for the rings. Ai was thinking it may have been while they were together, seeing as they were apart before, yet now she was realizing it was probably better for them to stay together as they may have been easier to pick off while they were apart. Maybe they hadn't attacked earlier to confirm their targets. By that logic, there had to be at least seven of them, and she picked out five, six if balcony woman was included. Whether they were mobilizing into some sort of pre-planned position or not, Ai couldn't tell. She could only continue as normal until it did happen. Unfortunately, she hadn't the opportunity to warn the boss and the other guardians yet, but perhaps she would when she was finished.

The room began to darken as images began to project behind her. Once Ai had the full attention on herself, she began to speak quite automatically, and unfortunately, uninterestingly. Images, diagrams and words appeared behind her in relation to her speech.

"I thank the storm guardian Namine for the transition and I thank the audience for your patience and your attention. As we have announced, we will be revealing our new field in technology of which we hope you will all heavily invest in, for the good of not just yourselves, but all of humankind."

"An old philosopher had once thought that everything in the universe, including the human body, was made up of fire, water, wind and earth. In theory, the human body had the ability to make use of all four inside themselves. While we have proven to consist mostly of water, produce our own wind and give and gain nutrients from the Earth, we've not proven the ability to utilize fire within ourselves. This philosopher, of course, has been proven wrong in this way, yet what Vongola's scientists have uncovered a way to create a flame out of sheer will, as if it were magic. Not only have we learned the properties of the flame, but we have learned how to harness its energy, an energy that has the ability to alter normal laws of conservation of energy and the ability to manipulate mass in mysterious ways."

Ai then went into a long visually-aided presentation, filled with diagrams and photos of tests and mathematical formulas about how the emotional impulses created by will or ambition created a special surge in the 'wavelength' in a person's body, similar the chi, and can be used in conjunction with a device like a ring to emit a special flame. The test photos were made up, of course, considering the Vongola had been working on this technology for decades, they just needed to give the appearance that it was a completely new concept, the concept of deathperation flames, so people wouldn't be suspicious about why they would keep such a groundbreaking technology to themselves. Of course, anybody from the mafia would be able to recognize that it was all false, but the Vongola remained extremely influential in the mafia, as it always had.

Ai explained all about the different types of flames and their properties, along with more photos, stuff that any hitman seemed to be required to know to survive in the underground. She got into the concept of how the rings worked, as they were proven to be the easiest, most effective and most convenient way to project the flames and how the "purity" of a flame changed depending on the quality of the ring and the strength of the user's resolve.

"Yet, it is possible that there are flames beyond the ones we've discovered. Because the possibilities for different possible flame types are too vast to calculate, we based the names of the seven flames we've discovered so far on the Sky. These flames also have connections with the Guardians the Vongola's pride is in, as it is their rings that have been discovered to produce the purest of each flame.

Then, Ai got into box weapons. She claimed that Vongola scientists had invented and gave credit only to one of the original inventors, Koenig. This too, was required. Ai explained exactly how the exotic energy created from deathperation flames can be used to fuel special anti-mass converters from strange to regular matter regardless of mass or density and how it can only be kept working while the flames continued to combust and how even complex chemical patterns could be replicated in strange mass, including simple workings of the brains of animals. Ai then explained all about different kinds of box weapons they've been working on, such as animal boxes, battery boxes, storage boxes and special flame-based tools and "box-tools", continually stressing upon the various possibilities for purposes, yet putting extremely little emphasis on ways they could be used to harm. Humans are extremely against a new form of science if it is developed for the sake of creating deadly new weapons, yet they often ended up creating weapons using new technologies anyhow, such as nuclear fission in the past used for both energy production and deadly toxic bombs. That was their goal.

"And now," Ai said, yet she didn't change her tone of voice to indicate the presentation would go in a different direction, "I shall now demonstrate the use of deathperation flames and box tools.

"Western sounds good. But first, we have a presentation to attend to." Fredrick was rendered nonplussed by her acceptance of his offer. All he could do was stare, partly in shock and partly in disbelief, at the beauty before him.

Was this real life, or was he just imagining this?

Despite Serlina’s helpful hints, he still couldn’t fully wrap his mind around the fact that she’d actually accepted. She said yes! It got to the point where Serlina had to forcefully nod Fred’s head for him in response, which made an awkward situation even more so. Not waiting around for a verbal reply, Eri made her way away from him and through the crowd as smoothly as melted chocolate. He watched her go, his eyes swaying and bouncing as he nervously gazed after her.

Cain’s voice snapped him out of his trance-like torpor, rolling across the room like a lion’s roar.

”Without further ado, I'd like to invite all the family guardians to the stand."

Oh. So that’s why Eri made her way forward. Doh.

“Go follow her, Fred!” Came Serlina’s high-pitched voice inside of his head, causing him to flinch in surprise. “You’re supposed to be up there!”

“But…” Fredrick took a step forward, but then froze, eyeing the stage. Most of the other guardians had made their way to stand behind Cain. Wouldn’t it look really bad if he were one of the last ones to walk on stage? In front of all these people… How humiliating…

“Fred. Hey!”

Fredrick looked from side to side as furtively as he dared. Was everyone looking at him? Did they all know he was supposed to be up there right now? He sighed, slinking back into the crowd despite the quivering blue light that buzzed around his head in staunch protest.

Of course they knew.

Whole minutes passed with Fredrick standing amidst the crowd, gazing up at the stage. Even Serlina had become silent. Cain and the others continued to take turns speaking on stage. Even Nami, in all her pop-star glory, eventually made her way up. It wasn’t long before she had the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand, tossing things this way and that. Still, despite his best efforts, Fredrick couldn’t find the courage to step up. It was just too much. Maybe tomorrow. He thought, reassuring himself.

Suddenly, Cain hopped off stage, though Fredrick couldn’t through the thickets of the crowd and quickly lost sight of him. Suddenly:

"Yes. Hello again. So It's come to my attention that some people don't like how the new Guardians go about doing things. Well let me tell you this. You all can go shove it up your—"

Fredrick slapped his hands over his ears, his face turning slightly red. No Cain, no! Don’t say it! He could only imagine the horrified look on the crowd’s faces. It just made him want to huddle up and disappear from the room entirely. After a few seconds of deafening silence, Fredrick sighed in sweet relief. Judging by how quickly Joel had flashed off stage, he must’ve stopped Cain before he said something mean. Good. Good!

”Fredrick,” came that voice in his head again. Serlina. He looked over to his left and saw her fluttering about. Instead of meeting her eye, he looked down at his shoes.

“Y-yes?” He muttered dejectedly.

“They need you up there, you know.” At the mention of his friends needing him, Fredrick’s ears perked up, but he didn’t otherwise move. He still stared down at his shoes. ”Joel sure could use your help with Cain,” Serlina continued, fluttering about his head like an orbiting moon. “Everyone knows you’re the best at calming the boss down.” Slowly but surely, a steely sense of confidence began to build in Fredrick’s chest in tune with her words. Like an all-encompassing warmth, it surged through him, uplifted him, empowered him. He raised his head, a newly confident sheen radiating from his eyes.

His friends needed his help, and he would not let them down!

SMACK!!!!

Fredrick paused mid-step, the sound reverberating throughout the entire complex, as loud and piercing as a hellfire missile. Without wasting another second, Serlina shot up into the air, overlooking the crowd. After a moment, she returned to Fredrick’s side.

“What happened?”
“Cain!” She hissed, keeping her voice down.
“What?” Fredrick said, his newly mastered confidence ebbing. He could hardly hear her.
“Cain!” She bellowed in his head. “Joel just slapped Cain! In front of everyone! And now they’re fighting!”

Fredrick’s eyes grew wide. Seems he was too late… but perhaps he could still be of some assistance!

Taking the initiative, Fredrick began moving through the crowd, uttering “excuse me” and “sorry” at every turn as Serlina directed him towards his comrades. Unfortunately, his efforts were cut short when he bumped into someone.

A surge of fear rushed through him as he turned to apologize.

“Sorry!” He exclaimed in a hushed voice. “I wasn’t looking where…” Fredrick’s voice trailed off as he noted the absence of a person. There was no one in front of him. Then what did I bump into?

”Look down!” Serlina commanded in his mind. He complied, looking down to see a very peeved child staring back up at him. If looks could kill, this kid would have not only massacred poor Fredrick, but his entire ancestry as well.

Oops.

“Uh, I’m really really sorry about that,” he said, bowing at the waist as deeply as he could manage while being cramped by the crowd. “Are you okay?”

The child, a boy of around 12 or 13, simply stared. He was dressed in a sharp little suit, though the look was ruined by his dress shirt, which wasn’t tucked in and hung lazily out from the bottom of his suit jacket. The kid had the whole “preppy” vibe going for him, with stringy black hair that looked like it’d been neatly combed and parted by his mother.

“Hey, douchebag,” the kid said accusatorily, giving Fredrick a slight shove after curtly straightening his collar with both hands. “Do you know who I am? Are you trying to die? Watch where the fuck you’re going.” The obscene language flowed from his mouth in an almost natural rhythm.

Fredrick just stood there, utterly flabbergasted and unsure how to respond.





Alastor unfurled his hands from behind his back, instead placing them inside his pockets. "As for the rest of us," he began, glancing over at Donovan. "Shall we begin?"

Donovan nodded in response, his grin now more of a cocky smirk, mirroring Alastor’s. Of all the Rizzos, Donovan’s entrance was about to be the most epic. He opened his mouth to answer Alastor’s question, but stopped when he noticed, peripherally, Trevor’s face. The boy was staring at a girl around Donovan’s own age who’d just taken the stage. “One sec,” Donovan said to Alastor, taking a knee and coming eye-level with Trevor.

If Trevor noticed him, he didn’t act like it. He just kept staring at the girl.

“Who’s that?” Donovan asked with genuine curiosity, referring to the object of Trevor’s interest. From the way she so easily moved through the crowd to the stage, she had to be one of the Vongola… probably. Again, he didn’t really pay attention during the briefing.

“The Vongola Storm guardian Namine ‘The Tempest’ Gokudera, also known Tempest from the from the contemporaneously acclaimed pop band ‘Blast of Tempest’. Daughter of Hayato Gokudera and inheritor of the Systema C.A.I. Five feet seven inches in height, one-hundred and twenty pounds, brown eyes, sometimes likes to wear glasses. Sixteen years old at this point in time—”

Donovan interrupted Trevor by putting his hand on the boy’s head, forcing him to bow somewhat. He followed by giving Trevor his best grin.

“You wanna get an autograph, don’tcha?”
Trevor shook his head slowly. “No.” His tone was neutral.
Donovan’s grin widened. “Are you sure?”
Trevor nodded. “Yes.”

Donovan sighed in mock exasperation, standing and taking a step back. Knowing Trevor, he probably didn’t want to look like a little kid in front of Alastor. “Oh well, it’d be a shame if you missed out,” he said teasingly.

Though it wouldn’t have been noticeable to an observer outside of the family, Donovan knew better than anyone when Trevor was holding back. The boy began shifting his weight from foot to foot ever so slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but Donovan caught it.

And, apparently, so did Alastor. The Rizzo boss nudged Trevor onward with his hand. Trevor stumbled forward a step, looking up at Alastor with an eyebrow raised.

“Past, present, and future, you always have a knack for acquiring the most peculiar of interests, Trevor.” He said the words with certain lightheartedness, as if he always expected this to happen. Alastor didn’t make eye contact with the boy, still looking towards the stage, but he did make a brief gesture with his chin, motioning towards the Vongola girl. “Make it very quick.”

Donovan nodded in tacit approval.

Sure, the younger image of Alastor might’ve been a little ass, but the current Alastor—the real one—wasn’t just his boss, he was one of his best friends. Within this elder image of the Space flame guardian, Donovan saw him. He saw his boss. He saw a friend. But more than that, he saw what his friend would one day grow up to become, and it wasn’t too shabby.

Donovan smirked as he returned his sights to Trevor, who was walking off at a leisurely pace, hands in his pockets, as if he wasn’t resisting the urge to run full tilt to where the Vongola Storm guardian currently stood.

It was a few minutes before either of the Rizzo guardians spoke, with Donovan breaking the silence. “So… are we waiting for something specific?”

“Not specifically,” Alastor said, looking over his shoulder in a preoccupied fashion, his voice taking on a moderately ominous tone. “The arrival of the Tempest seems to have disturbed things. Some of the Vongola guardians are leaving the stage and moving about most erratically. I don’t like it.”

Donovan followed Alastor’s gaze, his eyes landing on the Vongola Sky guardian, who was standing next to Trevor’s Storm celebrity and... was that Flandre?!

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Donovan asked jovially, barely stifling a chuckle. Hopefully the wheelchair-bound Flandre didn’t start things off prematurely.

Alastor was silent for a moment, his eyes landing briefly on Miku before facing forward again. “Maybe this shouldn’t be as surprising as it is, but this isn’t how things went in the book.”

Donovan raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “Huh?”

“This place. This time. These Vongolas and their movements.” Alastor made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Everything pretty much followed the history books of your timeline, give or take a few things, until this moment.”

Donovan gasped in sudden understanding, his countenance somewhat troubled. He remembered being briefed by the head of the Rizzo family—Alastor’s father—back in the future, before the real Alastor shepherded them all backwards a good hundred years. Upon arrival, Donovan and his fellow guardians would be tasked with appropriating the Vongola rings, but they would not have much in the way of time to get it done.

Time.

Donovan remembered holding back a bark of laughter during the briefing, lest he embarrass his boss. It was almost like a misnomer, an oxymoron, what the Rizzo head had said. Not enough time? Yeah, right. What is time to a team of badasses that can travel backwards and forward through history at a whim, right?

Wrong, apparently.

The Rizzo guardians were to be sent back to a specific point in time, one that was determined through complex quantum statistical analysis and abstract mathematical computations performed by future AI supercomputers. The AIs all came to the same conclusion: the Rizzo guardians had a very small window in space-time with which to divest the Vongolas of their rings before their foreign presence so deep in the past began to drastically impact the timeline and all of space-time in general. Donovan was pretty sure it was the reason Alastor forbade them from just killing the Vongolas—it’d have an unpredictable effect on the timeline.

Which is why what Alastor said was so troubling.

“Are we too late?” Donovan asked. “Did we already fail?”

“I do not believe so,” he responded, looking around the room. He began making eye contact with the various Rizzos positioned around the room. “However, we should make haste. The longer we remain without possession of the Vongola rings, the direr the prospect of your future becomes—”

SMACK!!!!

Both Alastor and Donovan spun towards the source of the sound. It’d become quiet enough in the room that you could hear a pin drop.

Alastor shook his head in disgust as the Sky Vongola tackled and tussled with the Lightning.

“Woah,” Donovan muttered, his tone underlined with a vein of excitement. “Can we attack them now?”

“No,” he responded as the Sky and Cloud Vongolas made their way out of the convention hall. In the midst of the Vongola’s internal strife, Alastor managed to make peripheral eye contact with Sora, throwing him a disparaging look. The Star guardian had changed out of his sanctioned attire, opting for a miscreant’s apparel. While unappreciated, this, too, was expected. Like the other Rizzos, the Star of this timeline was very similar to the Star guardian of the timeline from whence the elder Alastor hailed. “Not yet. I’d rather they gather together in a group, preferably on the stage. We want to end this quickly, with as few casualties as possible.” Alastor briefly pondered the seemingly dilapidated state of the Vongola famiglia. It was no wonder they ceased to exist half a century from now. “Further,” he continued, “the longer the fight draws on, the more likely it is that we’ll require Trevor to nullify someone’s ultimate attack or final form or what have you. I’m aiming to avoid that if we can,” he said, his eyes darkening. “Lest one of these Vongolas force us to end them.”

For the next several minutes, Donovan chewed on his lower lip, annoyed with the tedium of it all, his cocky grin long since given way to a deep frown. The Vongolas began their presentation, and Donovan was suffering under the grinding boredom and stifling monotony of an infinite array of slides and images and sounds and blah, glancing over at Alastor every now and then for a sign.

The man was like a statue.

It wasn’t until towards the end of the presentation, when the Vongola boss walked back into the room, that Alastor finally acted. Slowly, he raised his arm into the air, and with one loud Space-flame-assisted SNAP! he signaled to his fellow Rizzos:

Attack.





SMACK!!!!

Hildegarde had a look of absolute horror on her face, her hands coming up to cover her mouth, her stance that of a woman taken aback.

Did that really just happen? Did one of the Vongola really just slap the other, like actors in some cheap soap opera? Really?

When the two guardians started fighting amongst themselves, Hildegarde shook her head. Surely her Alastor was thinking the same thing as she: these Vongolas weren’t looking too good as a familial unit. Still, Hildegarde felt genuine pity for the kid who’d been humiliated by a slap to the face. She was generally fond of kids, and didn’t like seeing them hurt.

Then again, he was technically one of Alastor’s enemies.

Hildegarde removed her gloved hands from her face, instead gripping the railing in front of her with a dainty flair. That’s right, they were enemies of her lover. Their mere existences were an affront to his awesomeness! His mandate of heaven!

How dare they. How dare they! HOW DARE THEY!

After blowing a kiss to Alastor upon making eye contact, Hildegarde returned to leering at the pink-haired girl and her friends standing below. They dared to stand against Alastor. Her Alastor.

The audacity.

Hildegarde leered with enough concentration to lose track of time itself. It was all she could do just to contain her hair-trigger need to defend Alastor’s honor against these primitive savages, her head shaking with indignation. So when she finally heard her lord snap his fingers, the long-awaited signal for action, she came to attention almost immediately.

With a terrible shriek, she spit a ruby-red piece of candy she’d held in her mouth out over the balcony before her. It ignited shortly after contacting the air, surging forward like a ballistic missile to crash amidst the Vongolas on stage below.

And then it exploded. Violently.

Hildegarde popped more candy in her mouth, moving along the length of the balcony like a medieval sentry patrolling a gate, releasing more of the explosive charges from her mouth at her leisure. Her intent was to scatter the assorted Vongola, but despite herself she secretly hoped that she maimed at least one of them. They were Alastor’s enemies, after all.

Especially that pink-haired witch.





Trevor was standing off to the side of the crowd, near the wall, when he heard Alastor’s signal. The snap! reverberated in his ears like a battle cry, though it was a clash he could not partake in. Not this time.

Not that he wanted to, anyway. The Vongola were just as cool as he imagined they’d be.

Trevor took a seat on the floor, maintaining a firm grip on the exclusive disk from Blast of Tempest, autographed by Tempest herself. He didn’t want it damaged by what was coming next.

As if on cue, the wall directly to Trevor’s left exploded, a large dark-red ball hurtling through it at an unholy speed. Several other walls around the hall exploded inwards with similar results, raining debris down upon the unsuspecting crowd.

Trevor recognized them as Donovan’s deceptively dangerous iron-core Palla, his weapons of choice for inflicting what he always called “big damage”. The Palla closest to Trevor bounced off an empty chair, flattening it like a pancake and increasing its own velocity in the process. Another Palla nearly devastated a poor businesswoman, though the ball seemed to alter its own trajectory mid-flight, sparing her life.

It appeared that Donovan took Alastor’s “no casualties” command pretty seriously, though Trevor knew he didn’t like killing innocents anyway.

Although the reaction was slightly delayed, the grand crescendo of shouted curses and panicked screaming began in full as people started running about. Simultaneously, multiple explosions rang out about the stage area, rocking the entire building and blanketing the immediate zone in a thick black smoke. The overhead lights flickered, many of them shattering entirely, raining glass down upon the panicked audience members below.

Trevor didn’t even have to guess who was responsible for that one.

The combined offensive from the Palla and the sustained explosive rounds raining down upon the stage from above seemed to have a dilapidating effect on the structural integrity of the building, with hairline fractures appearing along various primary support beams and across wide stretches of the floor.

Trevor coughed softly, pulling his undershirt up to cover his nose and mouth like a filter as people scurried about. The smoke from the stage explosions had begun to permeate the area around him, but he didn’t mind it too much.

His only mission now was to stay out of the way.

SNAP!

Alastor gave the signal. It was time to attack. Sora first made eye contact with Miku, then darted off.

Sora had two objectives at this moment and began running towards the first, the Vongola Guardian of the Cloud, Murasaki Eri. He saw her walking back with the Cain and used this moment to catch her off guard before Donovan began.

He looked her directly in the eye and said, "Hello there, Vongola Guardian of Cloud. I'd like you to meet my Rizzo friend, Miku. She's a sweet girl."


He ran off afterwards literally disappearing with the wind just as Cain and everyone else around her would except for one person, Miku. It was an illusion set for her and all that remained within her sight was the Rizzo Guardian of the Comet, Miku "Elizabeth" Rizzo. Both of these guardians could only see each other in this world as if no one else was there. By sight, it no longer appeared as the Vongola Headquarters, but instead an outlandish world.

(OOC: Feel free to describe the world/illusion as you'd like if you want to.)

After setting Miku up, he dashed towards his target, Miyamoto Keiko. With almost perfect timing, Donovan's iron-core Palla rained destruction on the walls of the headquarters. They bounced off the walls taking no casualties to the people, but causing chaos and panic through the process. He looked around and saw the looks on the people's faces running in fear, the shock on the Vongola's faces. 'This is the right thing to do....right? Of course, it's for the future,' he thought while he swallowed his doubts. He spotted his target, Miyamoto Keiko who he previously met.

"Take this Miyamoto!" he yelled directly at her for her attention. Upon locking eyes, the area around both of them changed. A boxing arena caged match surrounded them.

"So I heard you like close ranged fighting?" Sora smirked, "It's my specialty as well. Once again, let me reintroduce myself, I'm Sora Rizzo, Rizzo Guardian of the Star." He says with his eyes filled with one star respectively. "Now I'll be needing that Sun ring of yours."

*DING DING DING*

"In this corner is the bright star, 5'9 and illusion expert! SORA RIZZO!" says an overhead announcer.

The crowd cheers with applause.

"In this corner, the shining star herself, 5'8, blue eyes and a beautiful physique. The champ herself! Miyamoto Keiko!" says the announcer.

"NOW! FIGHT!"

He ran up directly towards her with a flying roundhouse kick.



After Shaji's presentation, Nami was glad to see Eri and Cain walking back into the area. The attendees of this event have calmed down and everything seemed to hit status quo until the unexpected occurred.

SNAP!

Nami heard an usually loud snap from a distance. Thinking nothing of it, she continued walking on until one bouncing iron ball came through the window. A few more accompanied this bouncing iron ball then they all started to rapidly speed up. As the momentum increased, they became more destructive and deadly. They busted the walls of the building, and begun to injure the civilians at this event.

"Everyone the emergency exit are this way!" she yelled and pointed for their safety.

Nami pulled out a box weapon, 'I've got to act quick!' She infused a storm flame in her ring, placed it inside a box, a a swarm of mockingbirds came out.
She begun singing a song and the mockingbirds surrounded her.

"Cambio Form!"

As the birds flew around her, she performed an almost sailor moon type transformation. The light produced by the sky flame mockingbirds swiftly around her until she was coated in a suit of armor. This armor had jet pack like boosters around her arms and legs. She begun singing to power her suit and dashed around deflecting the iron rubber balls from hitting civilians while they escaped. It was painful to stop them, but their safety and escape was more important at the moment. At that moment it hit her, 'What about Flan?!' She quickly looked around in panic to find her new wheelchair bound friend. Then she spotted her, remaining in the same position still holding her same smile and piercing eyes. Almost as if it was planned, one iron ball headed directly towards her, "I'll help you out Flan!" Nami stepped directly in front of Flan, punched the iron ball out of the way as it bounced in another direction. "Whew, that was pretty close. Are you alright Flan?" she asked.

SNAP!

Ai was merely about to open a simple Mist box weapon when she found herself attacked with a projectile of which she couldn't identify quickly enough. Ai may have been eyeballing the five threats with her hidden third eye, yet she wasn't paying attention to her attacker from the balcony as she had turned it on the man whom had threatened her earlier, Alastor, whom had made a noise with his fingers.

Ai found herself being bombarded with multiple explosions of which wreaked havoc on the wooden stage around her. It collapsed under her feet and Ai found herself falling on her back. A signal of pain had jolted through her nerves like electricity, yet Ai was indifferent about it. Her vision blurred in two of her eyes. To compare, it felt like her head was smashed by a hammer.

In an effort to protect herself, Ai created a barrier around her to protect her from any more projectiles or debris, a complete data refusal, while she examined the damage to her body. The back of one of her legs had a minor cut and she had a rather bad head wound. Luckily, her skull was only cracked and the skin was the only thing punctured, so her body's brain would be alright. Ai decided to try and stop the bleeding and decided to deal with healing her wounds later, as the safety of others was important.

Unfortunately, Ai wasn't experienced with having to protect a body. Technically, she was about fourteen human years old biologically (which was coincidentally her body's age, of which didn't change under her possession) so this would have been her first body, yet androids like herself were 'programmed' to give little care for their own care if it stopped them from preforming their tasks. The agreement, however, required that Ai protect her own body. A hindrance, yet adaptability was her kind's specialty.

Once her bleeding slowed, Ai stood up and removed her barrier and quickly examined the scene around her. Thankfully, the audience was quickly being evacuated, yet the room was heavily damaged. Her fellow guardians were beginning to engage in combat with the Rizzos. Ai quickly found her attacker, whom looked about ready to attack her again. She'd have to deal with her before helping her guardians. Ai looked strait at her, climbing out of the mess of what was once a stage, with all three of her eyes. Her illusion had dissipated and long cords were growing out of her and igniting with Mist flames.

"Why are you attacking us?" she asked plainly, not even giving her a threatening look, "Why have you come?"

---

SNAP!

Flandre watched the chaos unfold with a sadistic joy. The Vongola head had escaped, how unfortunate. Flandre couldn't do anything about him yet. After all, she had Nami to deal with first, before she got to him. Why had she stalled before attacking, Flandre didn't really know herself. It could have been hesitation. It could have also been the interest she took in Nami's actions and her Cambio Forma, of which she was briefed on. She spun the CD around in her index finger while watching.

Flandre was ready, certainly. Ready to experience the girl, her expression, her flame. She only needed to step out of the wheelchair and let the Starbow run free. She would have needed a property first. One of Donovan's flames would have to do. Flandre watched them bounce around room, until one came in her direction. A pitch-black flame collected in her hand, ready to catch.

However, at the last second, just as Flandre rose her hand, Nami had got in the way, deflecting the Palla. Flandre was a little surprised at first, yet smirked as she felt her black flame change shape. She'd copied Nami's flames. Flandre felt a deep intensity rise up deep inside her.

"Whew, that was pretty close. Are you alright Flan?" Flande chuckled a bit. "Of course, I feel fine, Nami." Flandre sat up in her seat. She didn't need a ring to activate the box weapons inside of her. Under her long dress, her legs transformed. "In fact, I feel pretty good Nami." Flandre stood up, towering over Nami on her wheels, not her chair of course but her own. The Storm flame's properties made Flandre feel a sort of rush well up in her. Her arms transformed as well, turning into long, cold, mechanical ones with clawed fingers. She began to laugh as a sword materialized in one of her hands. With her available hand, she grabbed at Nami's wrist where the ring was located. Her laugh was maniacal. The expression of the Tempest was one she'd not experience before, and she was loving it.

"Feel good, Nami?!"

It was a wonderful party to return to. Once Cain had seen Joel, who had a playful smile on his face, talking to Keiko, he thought he might have an easy chance to apologize. Though, what happened next he didn't expect. He wasn't sure if any of his family had. What was this? One moment, they were doing a presentation with a whole bunch of stuck up, but seemingly harmless people, and the next, there were explosions in the air with a fireworks like effect that seemed to scatter along the hall. On top of that, something seemed to be putting holes in the walls. Everything was quickly falling apart.
........................................................................................................................................................................................
Joel's face subsided to an even more serious one than he had before. As soon as he saw the lights flashing above him, he didn't even bother to give a look or even say anything to anyone else. The only thing seen in his disappeared body was the green smoked that portrayed his use of his powers and he was on top of the quaking building in the next instant. "Tch," the sound of disapproval came from his mouth as he saw the woman perched on the rail of the roofs opening. His questionable look expressed all of the sense the current scene was making, until he put it all together quickly in his head. It had to be none other than an attack on the Vongola. Not only the Vongola, but from the matter of the attacks, it was an attack on the ring bearers themselves. He only heard stories about the attacks on the past Vogolas. Seeing as how Cain was still young, he could be challenged for his ring and with it his place as head of the family. Though, a challenge like that would actually have to be a challenge. That only meant one thing. Whoever was attacking them were most likely after their heads. Which family would send someone after them though. That was the only blank spot left.
........................................................................................................................................................................................
Cain looked around cluelessly as his fellow guardians disappeared before him. One moment Eri was next to him, and the next, she was gone as fast as Joel could disappear. Looking over to where Joel use to be, he saw that his friend was no longer there and neither was Keiko. One by one they were all singled out. It was inevitable what was going to happen next and as the guest were all leaving and the guards with no targets for their guns, it would seem to the unknowing person that everyone was fleeing. However, Cain had a feeling that wasn't it. Knowing Joel and his other friends, they didn't seem like the type of people to just bail on something like this. No. Not without helping anyone. The only person visible was Nami, who seemed to be trying her best to help who she could with her powers. He also saw Fredrick, looking just as confused as he was.

“King of Flames,” a voice called out to Cain's surprise. He hadn't called himself that in front of anyone, but Joel, and that was just a joke he flew around. How could someone who wasn't Joel know of that self proclaimed title? He looked over and saw a kid, who looked about his age, and a man who seemed almost as strict to business as Joel was at times. This was serious. This was an attack. It didn't even take the revelation of the mans weird weapon to get Cain to come to that conclusion. He wasn't scared so much as he was wondering what the hell was going on. He wasn't able to react to the man coming to him at a high speed and it seemed like he was done for. Sure he had ample opportunity to dodge an oncoming attack, but the manner of the mans movements were unreal. There was no indication of his phases like there was with the lightning guardians. This was some other form of power. The only wind which was coming from the strike to the boys neck indicated that he couldn't even feel the man pass him. However, the swift attack gave the illusion that he had just been decapitated. There was no pain, which he'd expect from his head being severed from his body, but Cain stopped his breathing and even felt his heart pulsate with the type of attack one would get from a jump scare at a scary movie. Though, once he realized his head wasn't flying off of his body, he quickly turned around, back peddling to create a needed distance from his strange attacker, holding his throat just to double check to see if his skin wasn't gashed. There was no wound. It was unreal. He was sure that the tool in the mans hand had went through his neck. If that was the case, then why wasn't he dead? Looking at the man with a glare in his eyes, Cain gazed upon the relaxed man. Judging by his stature, he didn't even look like his friend anymore. His demeanor and everything was that of what he'd expect an assassin would look like.

"I don't know who you are," he said, "but you are going to regret not killing me with that attack." His skates that were still attached to his feet rolled on their own. The forward wheel rolling counter clockwise and the rear one rolling the opposite direction. On both pair of wheeled shoes the friction continued until red flames started to spur from them. He then moved in a beautiful motion to circle the man, increasing speed the further he traveled. Soon it was almost as if a bike was going full speed in a gigantic circle and the flames streaked the ground making a circle of fire. Cain soon disappeared into the flames and prepared his attack. Though he wasn't sure what the outcome of the attack had been. Sure he had trained with his powers, but he wasn't use to using them in a fight. Once he bolted out of the flame ready to attack the man at full velocity with his flame kick, he only could guess that it'd have to hurt on impact. At least that's what he would have wanted to happen. However, upon the first attack, he felt a collision with a blunt object against his feet and merely continued on past the man disappearing into the angry circle. The man looked as if he hadn't even moved. There was no way for someone to be so fast as to not look like they haven't moved an inch, especially if he blocked his attack. Cain continued his assault, this time speeding up as fast as he could and then created a pentagram of fire within the circle. Through every movement back and forth, he felt the same collision and with no trace of the man even moving. After the third dozen of attempts, he ceased his movements. The flames dying down, leaving a tear in the marble floor to show where he had went. Everything was drawn out just like a drawing inside of a circle. Everything, but the area around the man. He gritted his teeth at the phenomenon. How could that even have been possible? What would happen if the man had went on the offensive? He had only hoped he would be able to survive whatever was coming. Little did he know, he wasn't even the slightest bit prepared for it.
........................................................................................................................................................................................
Joel reached forward to grab at the woman only to see the same type of mist that he himself had left upon coming or going at his speed. His alertness told him to step away, not knowing what would come from it. Of course his eyes stretched before going back to being calm as he saw a kid of all people appearing out of nowhere. 'So that's how it feels when that happens in front of you,' he thought to himself, looking at the kid in his eyes. He relaxed his ready stance and stood up more straight. "You shouldn't lie in front of me," he spoke aloud. "Move." He was more interested in stopping the woman who was obviously attacking the hall than some guy who decided to get in his way. Though, he wasn't dumb. For not a second did he not see the boy as a threat. The grin on the boys face looked as if he was playing some type of game. To this Joel returned with his natural gaze, knowing that he'd most likely have to get past the boy before he had done anything else, and, from the looks of it, he wasn't going to end it quickly. There were too many questions in the air to even attempt to do so. Joel flashed, not towards the boy, but up in the air, only to see the extent of his enemies motives, and power.

Yin and yang. Black and White. Darkness and Light. Neither good, neither bad. Simply existential.

Simply a balance. A statement describing a tangible duality. A concept, used to extol the extent by which seemingly contrary forces are actually complementary. Interdependent. Interconnected.

Hildegarde was the epitome of this ancient Chinese philosophy, one that has survived even a hundred years into the future, and one that will die only when the final human takes her last breath. The Quasar guardian was the light that illuminated the dark, the spark that brightened an otherwise monotonous universe... but she was also the darkness itself, thusly illuminated. She was the long menacing shadow cast by the luminance of that universe.

Not having direct line-of-sight with Alastor allowed the pendulum to swinging back into the domain of yang, Hildegarde's mind clearing.

She took a deep breath, calming herself. Even if this pink-haired Vongola was an enemy of Alastor and the whole future, she was still just a child, robbed of her conscious mind by an insidiously invasive invader. Perhaps the inner child could be reasoned with. Perhaps the outer invader could be made to know the error of its ways.

Its traitorous alien ways.

Hildegarde was utterly lost in her own musings, and so failed to perceive the proximity of one Lightning Vongola that'd made his way up to her rickety balcony, probably in an attempt to stop her. It didn't matter anyway. He wasn't her target. Sighing, Hildegarde shook her small tin of Rocket-brand hard candies with her hand, listening intently. From the hollow rumbling, she surmised that the tin was almost empty.

Luckily they weren't planning on staying around for longer than it took to divest these Vongolas of their rings, or she'd have to find a new snack to cause mayhem with.

Flipping the box onto its side, she poured several pieces of candy into her hand before returning the tin to its resting place within her dress. With practiced grace, she flicked one of the pieces of candy over the balcony with her thumb. For a moment, it seemed as if the candy would simply fly towards the earth in acquiescence to gravity; however, after a second or two, the candy ignited with a bright maroon incandescence, suspending itself in mid air roughly half a meter below the balcony's banister. The candy looked like a comet stuck in time, or, better yet, a booster rocket whose upward thrust had reached a perfect equilibrium with the forces pulling it downward.

Like a movie star preparing to disembark from her private jet, Hildegarde hopped atop the banister, the poor twisted metal groaning under the force of her weight. As daintily as a child skipping through a flower patch, she hopped again, right foot outstretched, this time leaping off the balcony entirely and landing on the floating candy itself as effortlessly as an Olympic gymnast, maintaining perfect balance on only one foot.

The force of her weight plus gravity overwhelmed the rocket-like piece of candy, causing it to descend, albeit slowly, like an elevator. Hildegarde held her arms to the sides, her legs and feet remaining together, her dress billowing dramatically amidst the now-translucent plumes of black smoke and percolating debris. She caught herself grinning as she noticed the pink-haired Mist Vongola had not perished in the blast. A dark part of her considered popping another candy in her mouth and ending the poor brain-dead girl's misery. However, the benevolent side of her personality currently had dominion, and so she did nothing but stare.

Well, not nothing. She caught herself humming some random upbeat tune as she descended, arms held out like someone's messiah. As her feet came to within inches of the ground, burn marks began to appear along the assorted debris, the smell of singed rubber and smoldering wood pervading the area. Like a ballerina, she dismounted, crushing the booster candy into the floor in the process and ceasing its energetic output.

As she secured her footing, Hildegarde witnessed the pink-haired Vongola—Shaji Ai, if she remembered the briefing correctly—look straight at her, having climbed her way out of the debris. Sickly foreign cords—an all-too-familiar sight for Hildegarde—seemed to be streaming out from her body, the stringy appendages cloaked in what she assumed were Mist flames.

"Why are you attacking us?" the girl had the audacity to ask. "Why have you come?"

"Why? ..." Hildegarde flashed the girl a genuine smile. She really did have a soft spot where young kids were concerned, and this Vongola girl was just young enough to fit the definition.

"I know what you are, you probe," Hildegarde said, shaking her head. She took a step, coming closer. "I've read all about you. I know that you're holdin' that kid as your mind slave."

The predicament of this poor girl invoked exceedingly poignant feelings in Hildegard the closer she came. The girl's autonomy, her sanctity, her dignity... destroyed by the monster that stood before her now. It reminded the Quasar guardian of her younger twin brothers, Max and Menos. When the Malocchio scourge first invaded Earth when she was only seven, they did to her six year old Menos what they did to this poor Vongola girl.

They made him their slave. Their "probe". They made him fight for them. They made him their soldier.

It was another two years before her parents managed to kill the invader and free their brother from its malevolent influence, her father losing his life in the process. Two whole years of being a mind slave. Two whole years of being a guerilla, fighting against his fellow humans.

Just the thought of it made her sick.

"You are the enemy, probe, not the child you're..." Hildegarde made a face of complete and utter disgust as yang gave way to yin. "Infesting." She took yet another step closer, her voice becoming tinged with the beginnings of fanatical anger. "We've come to put a stop to your kind... a stop to yours taking any more of ours back where we're from, get it?" She took another step, her golden eyes flaring with the intensity of a thousand suns. She was now only a few meters from where the girl stood. "We're the good guys here, not you. Not these Vongolas you're tricking. US!"

She bared her teeth, slowly becoming riled once again. Images of her brother flooded her mind, and she felt the urge to blow this alien creature and her captured host to pieces. However, the promise of Alastor's complete approval surged through her like a maelstrom, reminding her to keep her composure.

Or perhaps it had the opposite effect.

"I'm only going to say this once," she began, popping candy into her mouth between words. "Hand over the Mist ring, and I'll overlook what you've done to that girl for now."

"I know what you are, you probe,"the woman said, approaching her. Ai grew tense as she did, though it did not show on her face, the many cords wrapped around her like snakes, poised both to attack and defend. "I've read all about you. I know that you're holdin' that kid as your mind slave." Ai did not react. The statement was accurate enough. Ai was designed to control human bodies like that of the girl and was designed to be unable to survive without it. A necessary dependence as a tool was of no use if it did not preform its task. Ai was a free-willed creature after all, she merely had the incentive to follow the orders of her masters, whether that was her own kind or to a lesser extent, one of her humans masters such as Decimo and Undecisimo. Although, Ai had come to understand that the freedom of one is borrowed from another. Just as Ai had free-will, her human vessel's freedom was borrowed entirely, a freedom of which could be borrowed from Ai by her masters, of course. Naturally, freedom only had a 10% conservation rate, much like energy, but to put such an abstract term into a mathematical concept hardly seemed logical. It did, however, in the unimaginable workings of her kind.

"You are the enemy, probe, not the child you're... Infesting." the woman crept closer. The TID identified her as Hildegarde Faust, but she was still receiving the data slowly. "We've come to put a stop to your kind... a stop to yours taking any more of ours back where we're from, get it?" Humans, unlike artificial creations like herself, valued their lives. Ai learned that long ago, but it is still something that heavily effected her decisions. Though, to them, no form of life was complete without a conscious mind. Odd, really. Ai had the power to draw things out of the girl to help her live better than she could on her own. Ai could manipulate chemicals and fluids in her body to a perfect balance and could fight infection more intelligently than the primitive cells of the body could on their own. In theory, under Ai's possession, the girl was healthier than any other human, healthier than she needed to be. The girl would not feel pain either, nor face terrible apparitions such as nightmares. Plus, the girl's growth was suspended, so unless the body was damaged beyond repair, the body had the potential of living forever without decay. Ai wondered if humans such as this one would change their opinion on them if they knew about all of this.

Although, if Ai were to ask the girl if she preferred being under Ai's possession, she'd most likely deny it. Odd indeed.

"I'm only going to say this once. Hand over the Mist ring, and I'll overlook what you've done to that girl for now." "I will not," Ai responded almost immediately. "It is my duty as the Vongola's Mist guardian to protect this ring, of which is not easily overridden unless the Boss's life were at stake and even so, I would do all in my power to protect everything. I do not expect you to forgive what my kind has done to yours, and while I can explain the benefits I give this body, I will not, for it is necessary for your kind to dislike mine. It is crucial so I can complete my goal."

"Your arrival, however, may have ruined my whole mission as your actions effect on the future, by coming here, may be catastrophic for your kind. This incident may sway the human collective mind away from a direction that would give your kind an advantage in the battle for your planet. Yet it is still possible that it can all be fixed, as long as you and your allies do not continue to assault us for our rings."

"I do not expect you to believe me. I do not expect you to listen to me. It is in human nature to deny information contrary to their belief and I expect you will attempt to take my ring away as I expect that when you receive these rings, you will find the reward for your action unsatisfactory. I am ready to fight. I am ready to do everything in my power to defend this ring. I will also remind you that if you fight me, you will risk hurting this body of which you value if I am unsuccessful in defending it myself."

Ai held a bundle of cords in her hand defensively. "Choose your next actions carefully, Hildegarde of Quasar."

“I will not,” Ai responded almost immediately. Hildegarde flinched in surprise, as if someone had raised a fist. This girl… her determination to piss the Quasar guardian off was positively inimitable. “It is my duty ,” she continued, “as the Vongola's Mist guardian to protect this ring, of which is not easily overridden unless the Boss's life were at stake and even so, I would do all in my power to protect everything. I do not expect you to forgive what my kind has done to yours, and while I can explain the benefits I give this body, I will not, for it is necessary for your kind to dislike mine. It is crucial so I can complete my goal.”

Hildegarde clenched her teeth, her golden eyes narrowing, acquiring a vicious tint. Her opulent burnished brown skin crinkling around the edges of her eyes and the corners of her mouth as her lips curved into a snarl.

“Your arrival, however, may have ruined my whole mission as your actions effect on the future, by coming here, may be catastrophic for your kind. This incident may sway the human collective mind away from a direction that would give your kind an advantage in the battle for your planet. Yet it is still possible that it can all be fixed, as long as you and your allies do not continue to assault us for our rings.”

There was an awkward silence as Hildegarde stared into the hostage girl’s unfeeling dead eyes. What Hildegarde saw in the girl was not human. Not by a long shot. Not anymore.

”I do not expect you to believe me,” the Mist guardian continued, “I do not expect you to listen to me. It is in human nature to deny information contrary to their belief and I expect you will attempt to take my ring away as I expect that when you receive these rings, you will find the reward for your action unsatisfactory. I am ready to fight. I am ready to do everything in my power to defend this ring. I will also remind you that if you fight me, you will risk hurting this body of which you value if I am unsuccessful in defending it myself.”

“Choose your next actions carefully, Hildegarde of Quasar.”

The Rizzo guardian remained silent, her frown deepening as she stared the girl in the face. The mention of her name did not phase her—it was to be expected when dealing with this one. They stood there, staring at each other for whole minutes, neither making a move.

It was Hildegarde that broke first.

“I think,” she began, scrambling the contents of her hand with her fingers, “that you’re underestimating—” she took a step towards the girl, never breaking eye contact, enunciating her next words with a thick southern drawl “—Just. How. Easily. I. Could. Kill. You.”

She took another step, coming within a car’s length of the girl.

“You have the nerve to speak of benefits. Benefits.” Hildegarde closed her eyes, the image of her younger brother coming to her mind, and with it, a righteous indignation. The invader—its clammy tentacles pouring from her brother’s orifices, oblong third eye fixed upon his chest like a tumor—spoke through him. It, too, spoke of benefits. Spoke of a disease-less existence. Spoke of chemicals and balances and health. Of a painless life. An immortal body.

These aliens just could not comprehend us. They could not comprehend humans—the sanctity of living.

Hildegarde sucked air through her teeth, opening her eyes. She could see it in the alien. Within the third eye of the invader itself—the one that she could not physically perceive. The one she knew was there.

Watching.

That thing, the one that’d called itself a probe, the one that spoke through her brother’s lifeless countenance, his dead eyes, his sagging visage… Hildegarde saw the exact same scene replicated now in this poor girl that stood before her.

These invaders always speak so loftily of how well they treat the bodies they infest, but that’s just it. Without a mind, it’s just a body. A shell. A doll—a part of some sick alien collection. You can comb its hair and wash it off and keep it from breaking, but that doesn’t make it alive.

That doesn’t make it a human being.

Hildegarde clenched her fists, squeezing so hard that the candies in her hand were crushed into numerous fragments, their jagged edges cutting into her flesh. Tenuous strands of congealed crimson dripped from between the fingers of her fist like a leaky faucet. If Hildegarde felt any pain from this, it did not register on her face.

In fact, she was grinning now, baring her pearly white teeth. “Tch. The future.” She took another step. “We’ve read up on the history. We know what you are, probe. We know why you came back.” She took yet another step. She was almost within the girl’s social space, but not yet within arm’s reach. “The fact that you appear in our history books means you’ve already had your effect on our time. You’ve already done your damage to us. To humans. We must be here because of you…” Hildegarde’s eyes grew big, as if something had just occurred to her. “And if you aliens can perform Space Requiem,” she mused quietly, whispering to herself, “then that means you must have already...” A pained expression flashed across Hildegarde’s face, but was quickly replaced with an aspect of zealotry. She held up her clenched fist before her enemy, her blood, having been squeezed between her fingers, dropping to the floor in small congealed globs.

“Ah, yes. We’re the good guys here. Not you,” she said, her accented drawl thickening further. “We sacrificed everything we loved to come back here. Everything!”

The woman took a stance.

“What’s at stake now is bigger than me. Bigger than the Rizzo. Bigger than the Vongola you pretend to support. It might be as massive and awesome as Alastor himself! We’re here to save the entire human race from the likes of you.” Hildegarde turned her fist so that her palm faced upward. “So you must understand: the life of one innocent girl held hostage by a monster...” The Rizzo guardian chuckled softly, her toothy grin morphing into a vicious smirk. “Well, it just pales in comparison, don’tcha think?”

The woman opened her hand, revealing a mass of countless variegated candy fragments. “You really piss me off, ya know. I told you I’d only ask for the ring once, probe.” She shook her head, her disappointment evident in the tone of her voice and the inclination of her drawl. “I’ll tell Alastor I asked.”

Hildegarde took a deep breath and blew as hard as she could, scattering the fragments about and saturating the area surrounding both herself and the Mist Vongola. The fragments seemed to defy physics as they flew, arcing and bending and twisting in their trajectories as if tugged by some sort of outside force. Eventually, the fragments were floating all around them, suspended in the air at varying heights as if gravity itself had ceased its function. Each fragment within the cloud vibrated with an otherworld power as they settled into their positions, glowing faintly with a blue-brown hue. After a moment, neon-blue rays began to zip and fire back and forth, traversing the cloud and connecting the disparate pieces of candy like a child connecting the dots of a puzzle.

Hildegarde muttered but a single word in homage to this grand work: “Quasar.”

Ai was, with a thought process that could be equated to annoyance at some level, troubled about how firm the woman, Hildegarde, was on her opinion. One thing that did interest her was the fact that Hildegarde knew who she was, meaning she was from a possible future that Ai had returned to, or at least a possible her from the future. Ai had wondered exactly what she would have done differently in a different timeline, when she was designed to preform in the exact same way no matter how different the possible future was. Ai was a constant, a perfect constant, a feat of which defied the multiverse theory that could only be accomplished by her kind's infinite capabilities, with the assistance of the properties of the Mare Rings, a space-time bending property that had been drawn out of the original Ores somehow when the rings were created, and similar yet different properties were preserved in the other pieces, the other rings, as well. So, in theory, perhaps Ai's mission would be futile, unless of course she used the timeline where she was told of her failure, this one, to good use, to learn from mistakes. Of course, she would be equally futile if she was already in an Oedipus situation, where one with knowledge of the future makes an action to prevent such an event from happening, only for that action to unknowingly be the cause of the event. (Coincidentally, Oedipus gouged his eyes out out of disgust for his actions in the play, yet this didn't effect Ai, especially when the situation refers to the mistake of his father).

Ai, though had stated she was ready to fight the woman if she continued to prove ignorant, yet Ai would have much preferred avoiding conflict anyway and was planning on hopefully trying to convince the woman about how what Ai was doing was the right thing to do, Ai knew it was, she was told it was. What was right and wrong and similar morals were things very unclear to Ai, so she relied on others to tell her what was right and wrong, or rather, what needed to be done, and mathematics and quantum mechanics filled in the rest. Though, both girls probably knew that it didn't matter how right Ai was, Hildegarde was likely more powerful nonetheless. The universe wasn't built to work in one's favor, her kind knew that, yet they were seemingly the masters of it. Of course, at this point in time, her kind weren't the masters of anything but space travel, and even from accomplishing just that did her kind understand well that the universe wasn't favorable.

Hildegarde made her move, yet Ai could do nothing but stay on the defensive, cords surrounding her like the orbitals of an atom. Then, the attack began, beams transferring power between one another, not unlike static. Not unlike thoughts, at least as far as Ai's infantile stage was concerned. A chaotic jumble of pseudo-thoughts and proteins in an extremely low-energy setting, either too weak to sustain themselves and fading into the background, or connecting with others in what essentially equated to a conversation, where question and answer were one. There was no perception, but there was freedom of thought in a half-aware sleepy existence. She could hardly distinguish herself as an individual at the time, yet she knew she, or the group of her, was stronger than the others, smarter, more thoughtful, able to mature, aware enough to even understand that she was intentionally able to do so out of intentional creation. The way energy was transferred was almost like communication, yet communication and bonding were hardly dissimilar. An instantaneous event lasting an eternity. Ai may have preferred who she was at present, able to sustain perfect thought more clearly, able to perceive the world, able to control her own actions, yet occasionally, she desired returning to that sleepy state of slow eternal contemplation, the border between life and inanimacy.

Of course, it wasn't going to harm her any less. Crossing any of the streams would result in the instant detonation of many of the particles, of which would react with the other particles. It's operation was very similar to a weapon in the future known as a Hopwire grenade of which used Mist's construction ability. Whether variants were ever created for the Space flames or not in Hildegarde's version of the future was unknown, but the inspiration for the technique seemed to be there, but heavily improved on as Hopwires were only effective to restrict movement in indoor combat in small rooms, while this technique looked like it could be used anywhere with more effectiveness. Ai, however, had no intention of moving.

Ai merely stared at Hildegarde with all three eyes. To construct reality was difficult, and Ai had little imagination, but to fool the mind was to think logically, as logic dispelled any lie. "Then in turn, I shall only reason with you once." Ai's cords then tightened all around her, encasing her like some sort of mummy. Then, they all deflated like a balloon and dissolved into the ground, leaving no body behind. "And if compromise of another human life is what your kind is willing to do meet your ends," her voice said from behind her as cords grasped at Hildegarde's neck from behind, "Then my kind is certainly much more willing to compromise another human life to meet ours."

Fredrick stared at the boy Alastor for a moment, confused and unsure of what was happening.

”Fred, he’s one of the attackers!” came Serlina from his head.
Fred looked off to the side, catching glimpses of his friends locked in mortal combat. Shaji… Eri… Cain… Joel… Keiko… He looked back towards the kid in front of him. Then back towards his friends. Then back at the kid.

He did this several more times, his eyes becoming wider and wider until…

Fredrick turned on his heels and bolted, sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction of the kid and his hellish .

“Hey!” Alastor yelled after him. “Get back here and gimmie that ring!”

Fred looked over his shoulder to see the kid sprinting after him. For such a little guy, he was pretty dang fast. Fred kept running, diving forward once to dodge a flying red ball that whizzed overhead. The projectile spun away to smash into some poor light fixture (instead of his face). Next, Fredrick ran towards a Vongola hitman, dodging to the left at the last second.

“Excuse me!” He shouted, crossing one foot behind the other and executing a professional spin like a football player avoiding opponents on his way to the endzone. Looking over his shoulder, Fredrick noted that his pursuer also avoided the hitman, or, rather, the hitman avoided him, jumping out of the way at the last second.

Despite the Rain guardian’s best efforts, the kid seemed to be gaining on him. He managed to make it several meters past Eri, of whom seemed to be stuck in a daydream of some kind, before Alastor had gained enough ground to lunge at him, tackling him to the floor. They both crashed in a rolling tussle of hands and legs.

It was Fred who, thanks to his larger mass and superior height, came out on top, pinning his opponent to the ground with his arms and knees.

“I don’t wanna fight!” He said through haggard breaths, struggling to keep the boy pinned. “Come on!”

For a moment, Alastor stopped struggling, looking up at Fredrick with dire red eyes. The animosity the Vongola saw reflected back at him was so thick and ferocious that he flinched.

That’s when Alastor stabbed him in the arm.

“AH!” Fred yelped, pain exploding from his biceps as he stifled a scream. It felt as if someone detonated a grenade in his central nervous system. Alastor removed his Hour Hand from his enemy's wound, pulling back for another stab, but Fredrick removed himself from the situation, coming to his feet as quickly as he could. He gripped his upper arm with his other hand, blood trickling through his fingertips.

“Serlina,” Fred muttered through clenched teeth, “help!”
“Watch his weapon,” she responded, buzzing about his arm. “It has some odd properties about it.”
Fred took a step backwards, distancing himself from Alastor. “What?”

Serlina slapped at his Fred’s hand, wanting him to move it away from the wound so she could get a better look. “I couldn’t easily block it,” she said. “I tried.”

“Seriously?!” He said, his voice losing pitch I proportion to his depleting courage. “How do we get away from this pint-sized terminator?”

Alastor managed to pick himself up, coming to his feet and fixing his collar before levelling a dirty glare at Fredrick.

“I can hold the wound closed, so use your hands,” Serlina said out loud, hugging Fredrick’s biceps with her small body. “Just don’t get sliced again!”

“What?!” He said, backing away slowly as the boy Alastor advanced, weapon in hand like some horror movie serial killer. “Serlina!”

Fredrick was in full panic mode now. Sure, he could bring out his box weapon, but he didn’t want to hit a kid with it. And Serlina’s Rain flame shields weren’t effective against this crazy kid and his void-like flame.

Without warning, Alastor lunged at him yet again, weapon in hand.

"Crap!"

Fredrick may have been scared, but he was far from helpless. The moment he saw the blade coming at him, it was like something else took over. The sounds around him seemed to dampen as if he were wearing earmuffs, his vision tunneling, focusing on the weapon in the boy's hand. His thoughts dispersed as he took on a sense of complete mental clarity and acuity.

All that existed was him and the blade.

He dodged the vertical swipe easily, angling his upper body sharply to the left, twisting at the waist so that his shoulder and arm were out of harm's way. He felt a cooling sensation as the weapon passed by the side of his face and torso.

Without pause, Alastor pressed forward, this time making a wide, lateral swipe. Fredrick moved just as quickly, bowing forward at the waist and avoiding the attack yet again. He could hear the woosh of the blade parting the air just as much as he could feel the biting chill of the weapon as it passed over the back of his head. It was surprisingly cold, as if the flame itself was stealing the heat from his body. Swinging his upper body backwards, he used his momentum to dodge yet another strike, this one diagonal across the stomach.

“Fight back!” Serlina called out, still hugging his bleeding arm in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. Fredrick instantly ruled that out. There was no way he’d hit a child. “Don’t hurt him, just slow him down!” She didn’t have to read Fredrick’s mind to know what he was thinking. Fredrick’s eyes narrowed with renewed resolve. That’s right, I can just use the Rain flame! I can calm him down! Only problem was, there had to be physical contact in order for him to inject Rain flames.

Alastor lunged a third time, throwing himself at Fredrick like a rabid chimpanzee. That’s when Fredrick saw his chance. Gathering Rain flames in the palm on his hand, he rushed forward, meeting the unsuspecting boy half way, holding out his palm. Thanks to his own momentum, Alastor slammed into the Rain guardian’s outstretched hand, recoiling painfully, the Rain flames spreading throughout his entire body, his face contorted with astonishment.

But then he was gone, as if he’d never been there in the first place.

“Behind you!” Serlina shouted. Fredrick responded instinctually, surging forward with as much strength as he could muster. He spun around to see the boy Alastor with his blade jabbing the air right where his exposed back would have been.

“How…?” Fredrick began, but Alastor rushed him again. He knew he'd made contact with the boy... but now it was as if the hit had never happened. This time Fredrick grabbed Alastor’s forearm, attempting to wrench the weapon from his grasp, but then he disappeared once more. There wasn’t a single trace of him having existed. However, Fredrick was prepared for whatever trick this was. He shuffled forward and to the side, foreseeing another backstab attempt, but Alastor wasn’t there.

“Above!” Serlina called out.

Fredrick looked upwards just in time to see his opponent land feet-first on his face, the both of them collapsing to the ground. The first thing Fredrick did was attempt to grab Alastor’s forearm—the one with the deadly weapon in it—and he succeeded! Unfortunately, Alastor had a plan of his own.

“OUCH!” Fredrick yelled, pushing at Alastor with his free hand. The boy had sunk his teeth into Fredrick’s arm. He bit him. Hard. Fredrick twisted his arm, causing Alastor to both drop his box weapon and disengage from the Rain guardian’s flesh. The gunmetal-silver dagger clattered noisily to the ground.

Fredrick took this time to disengage entirely, hopping back several times and putting some daylight between himself and his opponent. He couldn’t believe that the kid had bit him, though looking at the teeth marks in his skin, at least there was no blood.

Fredrick’s heart went cold.

The ring wasn’t on his finger.

The Rain guardian looked over at Alastor, who was standing a meter or so away. The boy had the Vongola Rain ring in his fingers, and was smirking.

“I win! I win!” He called out, laughing.
“Give that back!” Fredrick yelled, holding out his hand demandingly. “Now!”
Alastor frowned, clenching his fist around the ring. “No!”
“Now!”
“NO!”

And so, Fredrick did the only thing he thought to do. The only thing he was really truly confident of. He ran.

He ran straight at Alastor, roaring like a madman. He wasn’t sure what he’d do when he reached the boy, but he ran at him anyway.

This startling maneuver seemed to frighten Alastor, because he stood there, shocked, like a deer in headlights. When Fredrick came within arm’s reach, the boy took off, running into the cloud of debris as fast as he legs could carry him. Fredrick gave chase.

“Give it back!” He shouted after him.



Hildegarde laughed out loud when the Mist Vongola disappeared. “You think illusions will work on me, probe?! You think you can escape?” She brought the first few fingers of her hand together, as if she were about to snap them. Her pure golden eyes widened, her voice becoming maniacal. “I’ll burn this whole fucking city to the ground before you get away with that ring!”

However, before she snapped her fingers and detonated the Quasar, something odd caught her eye. Someone was rushing towards her deadly cluster, running full tilt. Whoever it was, they were heading for a straight on collision with her miniature constellation of explosive candies. Hildegarde’s expression melted in horror when she caught sight of the runner’s face.

It was Alastor. Well, his younger image. If he crashed into her web of explosives, he’d set off the whole thing!

“Shit!”

Hildegarde made a panicked grasping motion with her hand, as if pulling back the rip cord on a lawn mower. Instantly, all of the floating candy pieces seemed to lose their otherworldly gravity-defying qualities, falling to the ground as harmless chunks of solidified sugar.

The boy Alastor seemed to note his mistake as well and attempted to slow himself, but only succeeded in tripping over his own feet, tumbling head over heels into what was just moments ago a deadly cloud of explosives, before regaining his footing. He flashed Hildegarde a look that was some part fear, some part thanks, and some part annoyance.

And then, as quickly as he’d come, he took off again, running back into the field of debris. Hildegarde watched him go, somewhat confused. And then she remembered.

That monster was still here. Hiding.

“Hmph. It looks like my cute little Alastor needs me, so I’m sure you won’t mind if I wrap this up quickly,” she announced in her deep accent to the empty air, pouring her remaining candies into her hand. “You can run, probe, butcha can’t hide.”

A scream ripped through the entire area. Hildegarde didn’t recognize the screamer, but she bet one of her Rizzo compatriots was undoubtedly the cause. Her smirk returned with a vengeance. She’d wanted to finish off her target Vongola first, but second place wasn’t so bad.

As long as she beat Donovan.

“Ooooh no no no.” She said it like a mother berating a child, wagging her finger. “You can’t hide. I don’t have time for hiding.”



By now, Fredrick had been chasing the ring thief for a little over five minutes. He’d heard a scream a few seconds earlier that'd rattled him to his core. It was Cain. It had to be. Fredrick picked up his pace, gaining on the boy who’d taken his ring as they bobbed and weaved through the minefield of scattered debris and downed innocents.

“Come back!” He shouted at the kid, trying to reach out and grab the collar of his suit jacket. “My friends need me! Give it back!”

Fredrick was not chasing the boy by his lonesome any longer. Several Vongola hitmen had joined the chase, and were following alongside Fredrick, guns in their hands, though the ring thief was moving too erratically and the cloud of dust and smoke was too thick for them to get a clear shot at him.

Not like Fredrick would have let them shoot the boy anyway.

Without the ring, Fredrick could slowly feel Serlina’s presence fading, though every time he looked for her, she was still hugging his upper arm, and would always give him a silent smile. She was hanging on as hard as she could, but Fredrick needed that ring back. Now.

This cat and mouse game managed to run across most of the auditorium, and they were now out of the debris and back into the clear light. Fredrick could see that the kid was tiring out. He wouldn’t be able to keep running for much longer. This seemed to invigorate Fredrick, who kicked up the gear, gaining even more ground on him.

“Get back here—”

Fredrick screeched to a halt, nearly bowling over the three or four Vongola hitmen that were following in his wake.

“Guardian, sir. Why did you stop?” One of them asked, his gun still aimed at the floor. Fredrick did not respond. “Sir?” The hitman asked again.

Fredrick simply stared ahead, a look of abject fear on his face. He took a shaky step backwards, and then another.

The hitmen all turned in unison, looking to see what Fredrick saw.

Little Alastor hopped over some debris on the floor as he kept running, yet Fredrick and his entourage did not give chase.

“C-c-c-cain?” Fredrick muttered, looking down at the debris on the ground. It wasn’t rock or plaster or broken floor tiles. That was Cain, the Vongola boss! He was sprawled on the ground… unconscious?... dead?...

Cain’s unmoving body was not what had caused Fredrick's initial hesitation. No, his flames, his senses, his being reacted to the man standing further out. The man had his back turned to Fredrick, but the ring thief Alastor ran up to him, hugging the man’s leg as if it were a life preserver and he were drowning in the open ocean. The man looked down at the child hugging his leg, though if he was smiling or frowning, Fredrick was too far to tell. To Fredrick's horror, Alastor opened his fist, presenting the man with the Vongola Rain ring.

Fredrick's ring.

In response, the man pat the boy on the head, mussing his hair.

One of the Vongola hitmen standing beside Fred seemed to notice the downed Cain for the first time and ran to him, checking his pulse. The others attempted to follow, but Fredrick held out his arm, blocking their way, still staring at the man's back. Something about him was just innately threatening to Fredrick, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

The boy Alastor, still hugging the man's leg, turned to stare back at Fredrick.

He poked out his tongue, giving Fredrick and his posse the finger.

In response, the Vongola hitmen brought their weapons to bear, aiming their guns at the man's exposed back. "DON'T MOVE OR WE SHOOT!" One of them shouted. "HANDS UP! SLOWLY!" Shouted another. "Did you hurt Cain?!" Fredrick himself shouted, his tone as demanding as it'd ever been. He felt emboldened by the big strong hitmen flanking him. Surely they all weren't in too much danger. "And give me back my ring, please! ... uh... Now! Yeah!"

In response, the man turned his head very very slowly, leering at Fredrick and the other Vongolas with fiery red eyes. For his part, Fredrick reacted visibly, his face becoming pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. Somehow, this guy's face looked familiar...

And then, out of nowhere, someone rushed in from the side, taking Fredrick and the others by utter surprise. Fredrick recognized her instantly.

"Keiko! Wait!" Fredrick yelled, reaching out with his hand, but it was too late. Far too late.

"HAND IT OVER!" She growled, coming within striking distance of her target. If the man noticed her, he didn't act like it. In fact, he continued to leer at Fredrick, and Fredrick continued to sweat bullets.

It wasn't the miracle Ai had predicted, though it was probably better than what Ai had in mind. Ai had very little freedom of movement, so she wanted to distract Hildegarde while she trapped her by surprise. Ai was just about to grab Hildegarde when a scream echoed throughout the room. Cain's, the Vongola boss's scream. Ai's focus turned immediately toward asserting his safety, but there was no way she'd be able to do so with Hildegarde after her. She wasn't likely going to be distracted by an illusion again, yet another distraction had to be all Ai needed. "Uploading deathperation materialization data," she muttered, presenting a box out of her sleeve.

Injecting Mist flames out of her ring into it, Ai summoned a tree-sized creature out of the box weapon consisting of indigo-colored tentacles and beast-like eyes that dotted all around the thick rope-like mass. Each and every single one glared at Hildegarde. Nebbia di Malocchio, the evil eyes of the Mist. A box weapon based on a specific ring of special craftsmanship that was known by the mafia as a "Hell Ring". The origins of such rings are likely old enough to go back to the time of the Ancestors whom first crafted deathperation flame devices. That particular ring's craftsmanship was the responsibility of the one whom first conceived of Ai's type, the Malocchio as some humans have called them. This particular box weapon was meant to consist of multiple artificial Malocchio of which were fueled upon flames rather than human bodies. Consisting of multiple Malocchio meant it consisted of multiple minds fused as one which created a superbrain, a supercomputer of which Ai could use whenever needed. It couldn't understand many of the things Ai could, of course, as it would have required a large input of flames and a large amount of time to remain materialized to completely comprehend exactly what it even was, so it was merely used for complicated mathematics of which Ai would have trouble computing on her own, such as mapping out the multiverse. Of course, because it was fueled by flames, it craved them and could easily be used as a box weapon for combat, where it would seek out flames and consume them, and had no problem draining them from the source. After all, it wished to have enough power to comprehend on its own, just as any infantile Malocchio or even the entirety of her kind for that matter, did.

Hildegarde frowned at the beast before her, its unseemly shape and stature bested only by its misshapen monstrous eyes. Several options occurred to her simultaneously as she went over potential maneuvers in her head. She could use the remainder of her candies and recreate the Quasar. Hildegarde shook her head. No, no. It'd be uncouth to unleash such an amazing move twice in one fight. Maybe she'd just blow it to bits with a Nade, like she did to the stage when she first attacked. Hmm. Nah.

After a few moments of deliberation, one option stood out above all the others—not for its practicality, but because of how much of a mess it might make, and how fun it'd be to use. Her frown lessened at the thought.

Suddenly, the beast charged her, its tentacles fanning out like the digits of some massive unholy hand. Hildegarde reacted tactfully, dodging the initial assault using what remained of the stage as cover while she prepared, carefully pouring her spare candies from her dominant right hand into her left. She followed by popping one of the candies into her mouth, crunching it between her teeth. With her dominant hand free, she made a fist.

When the tentacles finally found her again, their deformed eyes swiveling to glare at her crouched form, she simply stood, revealing herself.

"Spitfire," she muttered, the word butchered by her full mouth. Without wasting another second, Hildegarde angled her head towards the ceiling and opened her mouth, spitting several fragmented pieces of candy into the air. The flame-infused fragments caught fire immediately, burning with an incandescent maroon hue. Like little rockets, they took off in all directions. In response, the innumerable eyes of the box beast began to swivel and shift in tandem with their various trajectories, as if attracted by the miniature fireballs.

Hildegarde wiped the spittle from her mouth with the back of her sleeve, watching her pretties go to work on the beast. The inflamed candies swirled around the beast for a few moments like fireflies in the wind before angling their trajectories and colliding with the flame-hungry beast, exploding upon impact. The resulting shock waves kicked more dust and dirt up into the air, creating a foggy haze.

Hildegarde raised her clenched fist to her face, kissing the tops of her knuckles. If one were to look closely, they'd notice off-red hairline fissures forming along the skin of her fist, traveling down to her forearms. Her entire arm began to vibrate ever so slightly. With the creature and its tentacles sufficiently distracted by the explosion and blinded by the cloud of dust, Hildegarde surged forward, fist bared, rapidly ascending a piece of rubble that jutted out of the ground like a ramp. WIth one powerful leap, she rocketed into the foggy unknown, piercing the cloud of dust like a missile, airborne, headed straight for the beast. All of its eyes pivoted immediately, focusing on her, but it was too late for all that.

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" She roared, her body angled like a crescent moon, her stomach out, fist held up behind her ear, other arm out in front of her, body twisted somewhat at the midsection. Within her eyes lied a frightening madness, an exhilarated fury. She enjoyed winning. She enjoyed pleasing Alastor. But most of all, she enjoyed making things explode—especially for Alastor.

"Haaaaaaaaw!" Hildegarde twisted her body as much as she could in the last instant, using her forward momentum to its fullest in delivering a devastating punch straight into the middle of the creature's unsightly mass. For a moment, nothing happened. Hildegarde remained in her stance, landing elegantly, fist still out before her as the dust cleared. Then, suddenly, she hopped back a few steps. Once. Twice. Three times, distancing herself from the creature.

And then it exploded in a fiery crescendo that bathed the immediate area in slime and singed creature-parts. The resulting resonance rocked the entire building to its foundations, further weakening the integrity of the structure.

Hildegarde pivoted on her heel, turning her back just as the explosion occurred, fist once again raised, the tails of her dress flapping in the artificial wind. "Infinite Mass Punch," she said in her usual drawl. "God damn I'm good."

Ai payed no mind to the loss of her box weapon, as box weapons repaired themselves easily. Whether Hildegarde attacked her again or not once she was noticed, Ai didn't care. Her priority was Cain's safety. She approached Cain as the others were harassing the Alastors and crouched over him to examine his health. However she could tell, she could tell he was alive and with medical treatment, he could be healed. The shock might have been worse than the injury, it seemed. However, it wasn't likely that Sun flames alone were going to heal him entirely. Ai stood back up and turned to look at the two Alastors, mainly at the older one whom threatened her earlier and was in possession of Cain's ring. Keiko, however, cut in and attempted to take the ring back from him. "HAND IT OVER!"

On the other side of the room stood Hildegarde, still in pose. When she was satisfied that the explosion had ended, she turned, facing the fruits of her destructive power. There was a small crater where the ugly creature once existed. "Hmph." Though she hoped that the explosion had taken out the body snatching invader and its hostage mind slave, she didn't get her hopes up. The probe and its ring were not her primary concern any longer.

Hildegarde dropped a piece of candy onto the floor, crushing it underfoot. Many of the fragments became lodged in the grooves at the bottom of her shoe, as was her intention. Suddenly, the ground below her feet exploded in a glorious blaze of maroon-red flames. She slowly began to lift off from the ground like a space shuttle launching for the first time. And then she darted upward, the Quasar flames emanating in controlled bursts from the candy stuck to the backside of her shoe. She was higher now than she was when she stood above the balcony, which ironically lay behind her. She was now overlooking the entire auditorium, scanning carefully, hand on her forehead as a makeshift visor.

That's when she saw her Alastors, surrounded by these primitive lifeforms and their pathetic excuse for weapons.

Disgusting.

Hildegarde brought her knees close to her chest, rolling in the air. Right before she lost her balance and dropped, she extended her legs and blasted off, Quasar flames exploding outwards with such ferocity that they melted what remained of the upper balcony. She zipped across the hall in a matter of seconds, landing so hard that she cracked the tiling underneath her feet. She was standing mere inches away from a girl—one of the Vongola ring bearers by the look of her, though her back was turned to Hildegarde, so she wasn't entirely sure. Not that it mattered.

The girl had midnight blue hair cut to neck length, and was slightly shorter than Hildegarde herself. She liked that. On the other side of the girl was someone she knew quite well. Sora. Hildegarde gave him the oddest stare, one that was incomprehensible even to her. All that she knew was that this Vongola girl was far faaaaaaar too close to Alastor.

She didn't like that. Not at all.

Hildegarde leaned forward slightly so that her lips were less than an inch from the girl's ear. "If you value your fucking life," she began, her tone as even and cool as a mid-autumn night. "You'll step the fuck off."

When the man was ignoring her, the proud panther had geared up for a pounce, to rip this person to shreds for messing with her cubs; her boss as well as the timid, peace-loving Rain guardian, whom she regarded as the runt of the litter. Even then, the runt needed protection.

"Hi-ho, Silver! Away!"

The all-too-familiar(and now increasingly annoying, since she had listened to a million of them back in the Star space) voice was accompanied by Storm bolts that caused Keiko to retract her claws and back away, snarling at the skateboarder. She glared as Sora landed in between the man and child, and her, his left palm open like a peaceful notion before producing a lightning flame from his gloves. The current could be seen floating around his hands while he held an extremely serious look upon his face.

"You don't want to go any further, trust me," he said. He held the serious tone in his voice then said, "Look-a mon. Don't ya need tah heal-lah Cain? He will die-ya if yah don't use dah Sun fire." His atrocious accent was a pun at mocking how the Miyamoto sometimes spoke.

The mockery wasn't amusing to the rage-filled Sun Guardian.

"Unless you'd rather have Cain be cripple for the rest of his life?"

"Ya're talkin' tah ME about goin' too far?!" she snapped, before motioning around her. "WHEN YA'LL DID THIS?! AND FER WHAT? FER A BUNCHA RINGS I RECKON! THEN YA SHOULDA COME FOR US AND ONLY US!"

She spat, the stray liquid managing to splatter itself over the suited man's nice shoes.

"Dah Vongola Boss is young, but he ain't as weak as ya'll make 'im tah be, dah Vongola healers will handle his injuries. Mah Sun flames don't heal others." she glared at Sora, then pointed at the man in the suit. "Mah Sun flames WILL END YA foh what ya have done."

As if a statement, the finger she pointed the man with went ablaze with the highest intensity Sun flames Keiko had ever produced, almost as if it were a representation of her anger, the flames flaring out wildly.

Hildegarde leaned forward slightly so that her lips were less than an inch from the girl's ear. "If you value your fucking life," she began, her tone as even and cool as a mid-autumn night. "You'll step the fuck off."

As a retort, she turned around to stare at the woman, "Bitch, if YA value yar fucking life, ya'll get in line first."

She turned around to stare at the suited man again. "He's first on dah list foh what he's done tah mah Boss."

Donovan appeared beside Hildegarde. He could always tell when she was in the throws of a passionate full-on episode, which she apparently was in at the moment. Again. She probably didn't even notice him appear, but that was okay. Donovan ran his hand through his hair, sighing. He didn't zip up here to see her anyway.

"You shouldn't lie in front of me," came a voice over Donovan's shoulder. One he immediately considered cocky and full of pomp. "Move."

Donovan turned, flashing the guy a smile. Yeah, this was definitely his target alright. The only thing on Donovan's mind now was how to make these next few minutes the most interesting they could possibly be. Perhaps a speed contest is in order? The very thought caused the Asteroid guardian to snicker. Speed to an old guard Vongola flame was something straightforward. A to B. Slow to fast. But to Donovan? To the Asteroid? Speed was a commodity, to be bought and sold like livestock. Speed was not his domain. It was his servant. It genuflected in front of the alter of Donovan.

No, acceleration. That was the domain of the Asteroid.

Without so much as a witty rebuttal, Donovan simply watched as the Vongola's speediest Lightning guardian ever zipped away, appearing several meters up in the air. He imagined the guy hitting his head on the ceiling and chuckled softly. This was going to be fun.

Joel reappeared, feet on the ceiling and his body hanging upside down as if he were some sort of vampire. He looked past the boy and saw the woman he was targeting headed towards Shaji. He gave no thought to it other than the fact that it had became her battle now, which only meant one thing. The boy below him with the nonchalant grin was his person of interest. His enemy to fight. Staring at the kid now with bored eyes, he wondered how he would fight him. It wasn't his intention to hurt a kid, but, if he was as dangerous as he thought, Joel would have to do something at least. He did have to admit, fighting a boy was much better than fighting a girl.

Moving his arms wide out in a motion that didn't really seem to do anything, he flashed once more, appearing next to the boy and resting his hand gently on the boy's shoulder. "I don't think you want this. I'll give you a couple counts to reconsider. This is one." The words flowed from his mouth like instructions, almost in comparison to how a teacher would warn their students.

Donovan made a face, his mouth contorted as if in pain, his lips puckered in the shape of an O. It looked as if someone punched him in the gut.

"Ooooooooooooooh," he began, deepening his voice, "snap!" His countenance immediately corrected itself, his face once again radiating self-confidence. "I believe that's how they complimented such charming and elegant gentlemen when they delivered surreptitious insults in this time, right?" He didn't wait for a response, instead nodding to himself, his toned underlined with contempt. "Mmm. Anyways, so this is how we play, Joel." He put his hand on Joel's, attempting to rattle the Vongola by saying his name. It was not a friendly gesture. "Hmm. How about..." He scratched his chin a bit. "Oh! If you can tag me ten times before one of your friends screams, I won't take your ring. But if you can't..." The grin left Donovan's face for just this one moment, leaving the boy with an expression of deadly sincerity and a voice to match. He stared Joel dead in his eyes before continuing.

"I get to kill one."

He paused for but a moment, taking time to grin again, his voice returning to its upbeat normal. "Kay?! Sounds like fun, right? Here, I'll even do you one better." He gave Joe's hand a pat with his own, his voice as upbeat and happy-go-lucky as a kid's in a candy store. "As a handicap to you," he said, wagging his finger in Joel's face, "I'll let this here hand of yours count as tag number one."

Joel looked suspiciously at the boy when he spoke his name, but didn't speak on it. It was something he wouldn't forget though. Once the boy put his hand on his, he was about to count off another number, but was interrupted by the boy's weird words. While most people might have reacted poorly or threw a tantrum over the words, Joel chuckled and smirked. "That actually sounds pretty interesting," he said. "I doubt any of the others would die to someone like you, but if you win, I'll let you try your hand at them. However, it won't be easy to escape me." Joel stepped away from the boy. "Okay kid. Start running I guess. As a handicap to you, I'll count to five before I start chasing." Joel dropped his smirk, but kept his eyes on the boy, wandering just how fast he could go to think he could escape lightning.

For just a microsecond, a dash of red hot anger colored Donovan's otherwise clear amber eyes. It wasn't something that was noticeable. "Dang beeotch," he said, rolling his neck and artificially raising his voice. "You're da bomb! All that and a bag of chips!" He returned to a serious tone, leaning towards Joel, the back of his hand next to his mouth as if he were about to tell the Vongola guardian a juicy secret. "I've done some research on the primitive speech patterns of this time," he muttered. "I'm doing well, aren't I?" He burst out laughing, holding his stomach. "Okay, but seriously. Let's start."

In the time it would take a human being to blink, Donovan reached his hand out as if to a lover. In that very same instant, one of his bouncing palla came to him, slamming into his open palm with enough force and momentum to shatter a football player's entire body, yet Donovan didn't even flinch. He simply stared Joel in the face, smiling. After a moment, the seemingly frenetic and destructive iron-core palla fell to the balcony, lifeless and robbed of its former color, like a bird whose wings had been clipped.

Donovan began to glow ever so slightly. "Here we g—!"

The Asteroid guardian disappeared without a trace.

Watching the boy disappear, Joel wondered if he should actually give chase to the lad. If he were really the type of person, he would have just forgot about him and went to help one of his fellow guardians with their fights. Though, he thought about it for a moment, realizing that everyone is entitled to their own. Maybe this would be a test for him as well. He counted down the remainder of times he had to tag the kid, and also how many more warnings he would actually give him. It sounded about right. "Nine more then," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes. It would have been a cinch for him to see something moving at high speeds, since he-himself could do so, but it seemed like too much of a hassle to waste that ability. The more he knew about his enemy, the better, and the less his enemy knew about him, all the same. Closing his eyes, he listened. He listened past the crunching sound of debris and the yelling of distant people. All he wanted to focus on was the wind. Something he had realized in his training, was that moving at certain speeds causes a sound distortion in the wind. Of course, when one moves as fast as a bullet, the naked ear can't connect. However, with training, one can hear a bullet as it zips past. The human body was no different. "Phase one."

Upon the words being spoken from his mouth, he disappeared as he always had, though, this time, he left not only green flames, but a small electrical current too. He only opened his eyes to look where he was going. The rumors about moving a certain speed were mostly lies, at least at the speed he was going. At Phase one Joel saw things as fast as they came, though he was trained to react to them. Once he heard the change in wind he reached his hand out, only extending a finger, and once he saw his target he made sure to only barely tap the back of him. As soon as it happened he ended the phase completely, standing on top of one of the Vongola statues, looking forward in no intended direction. He had decided to give it a moment, to see if the chase was still on, or if he would stop. Either way, Joel noted- the boy had eight more chances left to surrender.

"Hey!" Donovan called up to his playmate. "Nice one!" Donovan was lying on the upper shoulder of the same Vongola statue, using it as a hammock. To any onlooker, it would seem as if Donovan had been there the entire time, judging by his relaxed demeanor, and not that he'd just arrived a split second after Joel. "Ya got eight left. Don't miss!"

Once again, Donovan reached his hand out and was again met by one of his bouncing palla, the iron-core ball slamming into his open palm. Instantly, the palla fell back to the earth like a rock, colorless.

Again, Donovan disappeared.

A faint curve almost formed in Joel's mouth upon the boy's demeanor. It had been awhile since he was able to play a game of any sort and he had to admit, he sort of missed those days. He even began to feel bummed out that there were only eight more times left in their game. He had decided to enjoy himself while he had the chance, since it wasn't like he had any other option. This time, instead of trying to hear the boy, he wanted to see if he could lay his eyes upon him instead. What he saw, made him decide to take more mental notes. He was able to spot the lad. However, it seemed the more he followed him with his eyes, the harder it became. One could compare it to watching the wings of a fan move and accelerate with each pull of the chord. "Phase one," he spoke again before disappearing. This time, it wasn't a quick catching up, but instead a long stride, almost as if both were going normal speed and Joel was trying to lessen the space between them. He even had to stop and gain footing on something so he could push off of it to increase his momentum. It was weird indeed. Just how fast could the kid go? Joel was willing to find out. As he bounced off the starboard wall and headed in a diagonal to intercept the actual area where the kid was headed he let that curve sink in and formed an actual smile. Making it the second he had on his face all night. It didn't feel like much, maybe because they were both almost going the same speed, give or take, but Joel managed to flick the back of the boy's neck. Skin contact counted to him especially. If it had been his clothing it would have been another thing, but he was happy to mark another number off. Two rounds of tag finished and it wasn't even a minute yet, and from the looks of it, the rounds and the young men were going to keep getting faster and faster. "You're pretty fast. I might have to cheat. Hehehe."

Donovan turned on his heel, eyeing his chaser and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. That flick smarted a bit, but Donovan maintained his goofy grin. "Oh wow, you're faster than I thought!" He said, spinning on his heel to face forward. Two palla hurdled through space towards him, but instead of catching them in his palms like before, Donovan simply hopped atop them as if they were stepping stones, using the last one as a platform to accelerate across the room, almost daring the Vongola to chase him. Like the others, the palla themselves fell to the floor, robbed of their color, momentum, and flames.

This back and forth continued between the Rizzo and the Vongola for several minutes, Joel managing to tag Donovan and Donovan responding by depowering yet another palla. Finally, Joel tagged Donovan for the seventh time, tagging him on the shoulder. This time, however, Donovan did not react, choosing instead to keep things moving.

The boy kept on getting faster and Joel was already about to use his third phase. If the kid were to go any faster, he'd probably have to give up on his end. Either that or figure out a new plan of attack. It seemed like the words were left behind a while back as the two were still traveling, out of the sight of the naked eye. Midway through, Joel realized that the boy was going much faster than his phase 2. Faster than intended. "Phase....Threeeee," he said in a strained voice, snapping his fingers and zipping around, leaving a thunderous sound in his going and bring a cracking sound in his coming. He seemed to almost touch the boy, but he kept on missing. It always seemed like he was just a hair away each time.

Non-stop he continued the chase, reaching the edge of the phase the longer he moved. He was starting to wonder if he would even have a chance of catching the kid this round, but subsided. He could always go faster if he wanted to. He could always go to the next phase, but, for some reason, he felt held back. It pained him to hold back. Lightning wasn't the type of flame to be caged in easily. If he kept it up any longer, the odds were, well, he didn't even know, but it hurt enough to feel as if something bad would happen. "Phase..... three point five." His body created a ring of electric waves, making him look as if he was a spark wire. It wasn't long that he could hold this extra boost, but luckily enough it pushed him forward. So fast in fact that he whizzed over the boy's head, managing to get his finger to slightly graze the top of his head.

Not able to stop his momentum, he flipped around to crash down on a wall. Though he landed feet first, as soon as he hopped off, the wall began to fissure and soon implode. The only thing left on the man's mind, was how he was going to catch the boy a two more times without killing himself. He had to relax and think about his next move. He didn't want to use his next phase, but at the same time he didn't want to hold back the lightning flames building up either. Though he was in deep thought, he kept his eyes towards the wall before disappearing once more.

Donovan appeared next to Joel as they zipped around the room. "I'm surprised you managed to get to eight, old man," he laughed, pointing. "Was it hard?"

Joel grinned. "I wouldn't think I was that old, but yeah, crashing into that wall was pretty hard."

"I mean, you tagging me for the eighth time. Was it hard?" Donovan didn't wait for a response. "I know it was," he smirked. "Have you noticed it yet?" Again, he did not wait for a response. "No, you probably didn't." Donovan caught another of his palla, sucking the flames from it like a vampire, eyeing Joel the entire time. "I haven't really been going all that much faster, ya know." Donovan pointed at his opponent. "You've just been going slower. Every time you touch me, old man, you touch my flames. They stick to you like mud... they can speed you up," he began, infusing the now colorless palla with his Asteroid flame. The palla burst back into variegated life, blasting away like a bullet. "... or, like in your case, they can slow you down. If you somehow manage to tag me again, I don't think you'll ever be fast enough to make it to ten!" He said, holding his stomach while he laughed raucously.

"I've been quickly replenishing what I inject into you by catching my palla, but I haven't really been going any faster! Get it?!" Donovan clenched his fists, his expression and tone of voice becoming serious. His flame output became visible, like a fierce red aura that surrounded him where before there was nothing. "I bet you wanna see what happens when I actually go faster." He clenched his teeth, knowing full well that he was as unstoppable and cataclysmic as an asteroid hurtling through space. "Try to keep up."

Joel's eyes gave a hint of surprise when he was told he was going slower. It seemed, maybe using the fourth phase wasn't as dangerous as he had thought, since he might have been able to control it better. Though, that was big might. "I see," he said, giving a no harm no foul type of shrug. "So you've been a little trickster this whole time. Impressive. You've managed to slip something past my senses. You and your lot seem to be able to do that to me. This whole event.... heh. It's like you know how I think or something." Of course most of Joel's words were to himself as the boy had disappeared. Joel could still follow him with his ears, but by the sound of it, he probably wouldn't catch up on his feet. Of course he still tried to anyway. The boy impressed him even more. It was as if he was alter-imaging inside of their little speed world. He was on a whole other playing field than Joel could currently reach. However Joel had a different plan in mind. Slowing down to a stop, he closed his eyes and began moving his arms in a dance of motions. He seemed to be doing some kata of some kind, though whatever it was had no name to it. He ended by spreading his arms out and slowly moving them down. Once again he listened to the sound of the wind, looking for all possible directions it could go. With a snap of his fingers he summoned a metal lance and threw it at an unknown location, only to disappear and arrive at his destination. The lance had missed the boy by 0.23 seconds. Though, it got what Joel needed from it. "Distortion Phase mode," he mumbled, before disappearing and traveling to another point. He traveled to different points, all randomly. He wasn't even following the sound of the wind anymore, but this time, just cause and effect. Soon he arrived somewhere and stuck his finger out, just in time to have it crack upon the boy's unsuspecting chest. He kept his face straight through the pain, but regretted not throwing out his hand instead immediately.

"Hmmm. The web the spider sows to trap it's prey. Hehe. You're not the only one who's been hiding things. These weapons of mine are each connected to the electromagnetic field my body creates. Usually they circle around me without my will sometimes. Though, because I don't think I could tag you like that, I had them stay in one part of the room. All the way from the time I was upside down I suppose. Though, I'm kinda spent. I don't really feel like playing anymore, nor do I feel like showing you anymore of my abilities. I'm more than smart enough to know when I'm being tested. Tell me, was it always your goal to see how far I could go, or am I just imagining things?"

Donovan looked down at his chest, his grin now a faint shell of its former glory. He'd stopped on a dime, using his own flames to negate his gathered momentum and cancel it out completely. He saw Joel's finger less than a millimeter away from his chest. Though the effort of his sudden stop may have displaced the wind around him with enough force to push against the Vongola's outstretched digit, it hadn't actually touched him... but he'd come close. Too close.

Looking around, Donovan took note of his surroundings. He must've still been moving in some sort of... something. To be honest, he was somewhat confused. He hadn't read about this move in the history books. Then again, he didn't read the books at all. Or really pay attention during the briefing. He was going purely off of Trevor's stories and not much else. Donovan shrugged internally. Oh well, should make things a bit more fun, anyway.

Donovan returned his eyes to Joel, his smile returning. "Yeah, you're right," he said, dusting some imaginary dirt off of his shoulder. "I was told by a dear friend of mine that you were the fastest Vongola to ever live. I had to put that to the test." He angled his head to the side, a quizzical expression overcoming his face. "So, uh, why did you throw that thing at me again?"

Joel dropped his grin and sighed, realizing that he was basically talking to a kid in Cain and Fredrick's age group. "Man. I just told you. Maybe I should explain more. Throwing the lance of Izanagi made it so you would slightly change your direction, limiting the amount of times I have to zip around to catch up to you.... and I kinda wanted to hit you with it, but I'm glad I didn't. Good job. Hehe. Though, as for why it had to be the spear of Izanagi, it's because it's the fastest thing I can through. I mean look at this," Joel pulled out one of his weapons from the spinning circle. "You think I'ma throw a gun at you? Hahaha."

Donovan laughed with him. He kinda liked this guy, and not just because he was a speedster. Still had to take his ring though. You know, higher cause, saving the human race, all that stuff.

Suddenly, a wave of pressure ripped through the entire area. After a while, Donovan recognized it as a scream, the sound waves palpitating across their space in slow motion. It was Donovan's turn to sigh, scratching the back of his head. "Here we go," he muttered.

"What the?" Joel gasped noticing the voice. "Shit, Cain. Looks like I really won't be able to play with you anymore kid. Stay back. This is the final warning." Not knowing if the kid was going to get in his way or not, he decided to use his fourth phase to escape. Whether the boy actually listened to his warning was entirely up to him, though it was for his own good. Joel flashed one final smile before saying, "It was good playing with you, boy. Next time I'll be sure to get your name.

"Game isn't over yet, old man," Donovan winked, but he wasn't sure if Joel was paying him much attention.

"Phase four," Joel said. With a snap of his finger, a lightning bolt crashed down upon him and he disappeared completely, leaving no signs of his existence. That was, until a second bolt struck not to far away, landing him right next to Cain. He looked over at Cain with weary eyes and shook his head. "Damn Cain. What did you do to deserve this?"

He looked over and saw Ai not to far away from the body. With another glance he peeked at Fred who had obviously lost his ring as well. He couldn't help but to sigh in reaction. Though he wanted to tell the boy to stop his actions, there were other matters that needed attention at the moment. He looked over Cain seeing his leg was in pretty bad shape. With a break like that, the blood could clot up causing him to permanently loose ties with it. Bending over his leg and laying his hand on it, he shot and electrical current through the boys leg, stimulating the muscles. Cain winced for a second before relaxing back into his slumber. He overheard Keiko yelling in a fit of rage at the group in front of her. It consisted of the boy whom he had seen before and a man who looked oddly like he could be related to the kid. He also saw one kid talking back to her and a woman who was yelling. The whole place was in complete chaos and it seemed the only two who were calm at the moment was Joel and the other man. Looking him in the eyes, Joel almost saw a reflection of what was a hardened warrior—someone who was used to fighting. He gathered that he was the one who got to Cain.

"Ya're talkin' tah ME about goin' too far?!" she snapped, before motioning around her. "WHEN YA'LL DID THIS?! AND FER WHAT? FER A BUNCHA RINGS I RECKON! THEN YA SHOULDA COME FOR US AND ONLY US!"

Sora tuned out her yelling and focused on the task at hand. 'Geez, just back up already!' he thought. Miyamoto snorted as if she was about to spit. 'No, she wouldn't.' As if it was a slow motion movie scene, he watched the spit fly from Miyamoto's mouth. 'Oh Shi--!" he yelled unable to stop the spit from landing on Alastor's shoes. He stood staring at Miyamoto thinking, [i]'What have you done! I'll get in so much trouble for this!'

The younger image of Alastor noticed the glob of spittle as well, and watched it collide with his elder self's otherwise impeccable business shoes. He took a step back from his elder self, and then another, and another. Though he was quiet, you could tell by the look on his face what was going through his head: oooooooh, you're in trouble!

For his part, the elder Alastor turned his attention away from the black-haired Vongola boy and his squeamish demands for his ring, casting a look down at his bespattered shoes, and then back at the girl—the Vongola Sun Guardian. His expression was of a pure neutrality, honed by power and tempered by several decades of experience. His eyes glistened like melted pennies. Whole universes were born, collapsed, and died in those eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, Alastor raised his hand, fixing the blathering Vongola girl with an intense stare. Behind her stood Hildegarde, grinning. The Quasar guardian took a step back in tandem with Alastor's younger image. This Vongola was about to find out that she'd poked the wrong bear.

Suddenly, Alastor brought his hand down upon Sora's shoulder. Alastor's cold, but firm grip caused a jolt to run ra up Sora's spine as if you ran ice up his entire body. "Hehe..." were the only word's he could muster knowing it was Alastor who stood behind him.

"The Sun ring is your responsibility, Sora, not mine." Alastor maintained eye contact with the Sun guardian, despite his conversation with the Star. His voice was cool and calm, completely lacking in hostility, yet it was firm, and left no room for response. "I don't want to have to handle this for you."

Sora closed his eyes and gave a long deep sigh. He has always despised Alastor's methods of 'handling' their enemies; however, with Alastor, Hildegarde, and the devil's brat spawn from hell known as 'little' Alastor watching, he had no choice.

"I tried doing this the nice way Miyamoto."

He opened his eyes with star flames oozing out of both of them. He looked directly into Miyamoto's eyes. "I'm going to scar you for life," he said as the world slowly shifted between the real world and his outlandish illusions. Behind him stood blood, demons, death, and a gruesome sight that switched in and out with the real world slowly. Sora's head slowly spun like a ferris wheel while his voice became deep producing a maniacal laugh. Standing next to them was the one Sora deemed as Miyamoto's close friend after seeing their interactions on stage together. Eri's head stood on top of a spear as if he was decapitated by Spartans while her body remained on the ground headless. The sky remained pitch black with devil red eyes randomly apearing in sight. "And you'll feel every bit of it." Miyamoto, originally unharmed, within the illusion stood bruised, bloody and battered while monsters and demons with razor sharp teeth and claws stood over her growling as if they were ready to feast. The illusion was still flickering in and out due to the shear madness of the world being produced.

However, Ai, whom was very quiet the whole time, decided to cut in. Approaching Sora, she broke his gaze with Miyamoto and turned his head forcefully to look into her eyes. "I will not allow you to harm any more of us," she said threateningly, yet tonelessly, Her third eye looked deep into his and flooded his mind with visions of his own friends, the Rizzo guardians, with blank expressions on their faces, eyes hovering over their chests, cords of varying colors sticking out of them in identical places around their bodies. Alien parasites with evil eyes. Ai's own cords crept around him and moved around his neck threateningly, before slowly constricting. 'So this is the Vongola of Mist illusion, huh?' he thought to himself as he saw Ai's cords move upon his neck, 'This Alien scum. He begun to force the star flame from his body to shift her illusion back into his own world of madness. The illusions flicked back and forth between reality, his world, and Ai's illusion like a broken movie reel. Ai was about to retaliate by strengthening her illusion by actually constricting him with her cords. She had the ability to completely possess anybody in her submission, and this one who was busy trying to fight her illusions with his own wouldn't have even noticed. Yet something broke both of their concentrations, causing the illusionary worlds in their heads to shatter. Simultaneously, they look toward the direction of a piercing sound.

Without warning, a high-pitched roar overspread the area, drawing everyone's attention. "WRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!"

"I really don't suggest fighting. There're better ways to deal with this." Eri reasoned, holding her hands up, her ring perfectly matching with the sky in this world.

"What is it that you want from us?"

Elizabeth went straight to the point, "Your ring," she said pointing her katana directly at Eri as a gesture to fight. "No Killing, remember Lizzy?" Miku's voice rang in her head. Elizabeth flipped her katana to the blunt end. Wasting no time for idle chatter with the Cloud guardian, Elizabeth dashed in head first sending three swift slashes at the Cloud guardian. Reacting quickly, Eri dodged the slashes and leapt away, creating distance between them.

"I can't hand the ring over." Eri twirled the Vongola Cloud ring around her finger, then balled her hands into fists. "And I'd rather not have you fight me."

She stared into her opponent's eyes dead on, seriousness written all over her face. "I won't be responsible for what I could do to you."

Elizabeth, slightly irritated by the staring and lack of fighting, broke eye contact with the Cloud guardian and shifted her head to the side. She slowly moved her left hand to grip her katana with both hands. Now standing in a stance like a modern day samurai, she shifted her sight towards her opponent the Cloud Guardian.

"Annoying," she said as her feet begun to produce comet flames.

Her feet thrusted her like a propeller as she quicky closed the distance between her and the cloud guardian sticking her katana straight out. As she grew closer, the comet flames halted and all that remained was a gliding Elizabeth thrusting her katana foward. Sighing, Eri's ring released Cloud flames and she produced a Box Weapon from her suit. Charging the Box, she released Roll X which propelled forward. Acting as a shield, Roll's shell managed to stop the plain katana in it's tracks.

"Go away." Eri told her black-haired counterpart, cupping her hands together for Roll X to land on. "This is my last warning."

"It's so cute Lizzy" said Miku from within Elizabeth's head. Unamused, Elizabeth looked at the strange 'Roll X' creature being held by Eri. 'Strange creature, defensive shield, hard to penetrate. Analysis complete.' After becoming uninterested, Elizabeth merely placed her katana by her side as if she was about to concede, then gradually pulled out a box weapon. "Touketsu Ite" she muttered. She extended her left hand towards Eri while an giant black cannon begun to take shape around her arm. After the cannon completely took shape, she lifted it with ease and pointed at the Cloud Guardian. With this wide open space and lack of cover, aiming was easy and precise.

"The Ring." she said as a commandment to give it to her. Two sets of large comet fueled blasts were shot forth,afterwards the giant cannon disappeared into thin air, With the shots still accelerating forward, Elizabeth grabbed her katana again and dashed forward for Eri focusing on the ring.

"I said-" Eri fueled Roll X with a buffet of Cloud Flames, causing it to expand and envelope Eri within itself, protecting her from external attacks. "-NO!"

"There is no way you can attack me in this state. You might as well just give up."

This was going to be a battle for endurance, with Roll X containing her, it may be a powerful shield but there was also limited amount of oxygen available for herself inside this confined space. However, Eri was not planning to give up that easily.

Elizabeth halted her charge on Eri and saw that this Roll X was going to be a problem that she'd rather not deal with. Once again she pulled out her box weapon Touketsu Ite; however, this time she prepared a different type of bullet directly fueled by the comet flame. A pale blue beam begun to form, "Break," Elizabeth said. She shot this comet beam blast at Roll X and froze it completely solid. She dashed in with her katana, made one swift slash at it, and shattered it like fine china. With Eri's defensive shield shattered and flames returned to her original box much to Eri's surprise, Elizabeth quickly slide behind her and put her hand on Eri's wrist and lifted her katana.

"Fine, I'll take the Ring," Elizabeth said nonchalantly.

"No Lizzy! Don't cut her hand off!" yelled Miku as an inside voice.

"We get the Ring, and one less problem to deal with. Alastor will understand." She begun to move her katana down.

Eri's eyes widened and she was beginning coat herself with Lightning flames to stop the incoming katana.

"Paging MikuBeth," said Sora from the illusion he controlled, "We got a problem out here. Alastor needs you out here asap."

Elizabeth halted her katana slash right before cutting her hand. She looked Eri right in the eye, "Lucky," she paused and her two pigtails blew with the wind. "Next time." Elizabeth gave Eri a hard push from her chest leaving a small amount of comet flamed ice on her. Eri stepped back, staring at her opponent as she made a large leap in the air, slashed it with her katana which at first seemed like she was slashing at nothing before looking down at the ice around her chest.

Ice? She's been using it for some time now.' Eri thought, using her Cloud flames to consume the ice. 'They're flames... but what kind?'

Elizabeth already knew ahead of time that Sora set up an escape mechanic in his illusion for her to leave on her own and was informed on how to use it. A light begun to produce from her slash and the illusion slowly dissolved away for both Eri and Elizabeth.

Now that Elizabeth was finally back in reality, she saw what the problem that arose. There stood an unidentified beast creature covered in black flames wearing the storm ring. "Is that the Storm Guardian Lizzy? She looks crazy!" Miku chimed in. "I presume so," Elizabeth said.

'Nami?' Eri thought as she stared at the black flames.

"WRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!"

---

---

It seemed that everyone seemed to fear this man in the suit, she saw the boy backing up and sensed the girl behind her doing the same when the man in the suit looked at her with a very composed expression.

'Must be dah cream of dah crop eh? Bring your A-game.'

To Keiko's disappointment, the man's hand that was outstretched ended up on Sora's shoulder.

"The Sun ring is your responsibility, Sora, not mine." he maintained eye contact with the Sun guardian but was definitely talking to Sora. His voice was cool and calm, completely lacking in hostility, yet it was firm, and left no room for response, the complete opposite of Keiko's rash, brash, spoiling-for-a-fight attitude. "I don't want to have to handle this for you."

Sora closed his eyes and gave a long deep sigh. He has always despised Alastor's methods of 'handling' their enemies; however, with Alastor, Hildegarde, and the devil's brat spawn from hell known as 'little' Alastor watching, he had no choice.

"I tried doing this the nice way Miyamoto."

"Bring it on, all o' ya!" she beckoned.

He opened his eyes with star flames oozing out of both of them. He looked directly into Miyamoto's eyes. "I'm going to scar you for life," he said as the world slowly shifted between the real world and his outlandish illusions. Behind him stood blood, demons, death, and a gruesome sight that switched in and out with the real world slowly. Sora's head slowly spun like a ferris wheel while his voice became deep producing a maniacal laugh.

Keiko knew this was an illusion and was trying to tune it out until she saw that Eri's head stood on top of a spear as if she was decapitated by Spartans while her body remained on the ground headless. Instantly, the view was enough to throw Keiko off her game.

"RI?! RI!" Keiko's calls for her friend soon turned hysterical and she walked over slowly, not wanting to believe her eyes.

"It's an illusion right? You can't be... you wouldn't..." Keiko tried to reassure herself, but upon touching the head, she could feel everything the way it is. She could feel the smoothness of Eri's skin, her velvety white braids stained with stick blood, the coldness of death lingering on her, the lifelessness in Eri's original vibrant blue eyes.

Keiko fell onto her knees, her eyes wide with shock. This wasn't an illusion. That was Eri, Keiko's senses couldn't lie.

The sky remained pitch black with devil red eyes randomly apearing in sight. "And you'll feel every bit of it." Miyamoto, originally unharmed, within the illusion stood bruised, bloody and battered while monsters and demons with razor sharp teeth and claws stood over her growling as if they were ready to feast. The illusion was still flickering in and out due to the shear madness of the world being produced.

Keiko felt nothing, safe for the gaping hole in her heart that was caused by the sight of her death friend's head. Numbed to all physical pain, she reached for the head and plucked it out from the spear before cradling it like a precious baby. Rocking back and forth, Keiko repeated a sentence over and over again, almost as if a mantra.

"No, you can't be dead, you can't be dead, you can't be dead, no, no, you can't be dead."

And then, Keiko's tears finally spilled from her eyes as she screamed her anguish, her anger, her insanity.

Then as suddenly as it happened, it was over. Keiko collapsed onto her hands and knees, her shocked eyes staring out at the scene that was no longer there, her body shivering from the ordeal, completely oblivious to what was going on around her.

"No. No. You're not d-dead, Eri. Come on, it's fine, i-it's just a wound..." she whispered to herself, her tears falling onto the broken ground as she slammed her fist repeatedly against it, drawing blood and cracking it up even further.

"WRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!"

Keiko's feral side reacted to the ungodly scream and she herself released a scream of her own. A scream of anger, a scream of Storm flames. She charged at Sora on all fours and knocked him off balance onto the ground, headbutting the pinned guy.

"YOU!" she screamed into his face, her tears still spilling despite her angry, animalistic scowl. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!!"

She continued to rain down more headbutts while screaming incoherent words in her primal rage, digging her nails into Sora's arms until she drew blood as she literally locked him into place, intent of smashing the guy's head in. The longer it continued, the more Keiko saw red and eventually became just as wild as the wildest of panthers.

"UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!"

"What are you doing here, kid?!" An urbane Vongola mafioso asked, her gun clutched tightly in her grip, barrel pointed downward. Trevor looked at the gun in the woman's hands, and then up at the woman's arms and shoulders, finally coming to rest at the woman's face, staring her dead in the eyes until it became painfully awkward.

"Come on," she said, her voice oozing urgency, as she took a step closer to where Trevor stood. In response, Trevor mirrored the woman's action but in reverse, taking a step backwards and maintaining the distance between them. The mafioso took another step forward. Trevor took another step backwards. They repeated this at least another three times until Trevor's back bumped up against the wall. The woman put her gun away with extreme caution, thinking the boy was afraid of the weapon.

She held out her hand, a warm inviting gesture. "Hey, kid. Come on, it's not safe here." As she spoke, part of the ceiling collapsed behind her, a volley of explosions erupting in the distance. Trevor reacted not to the woman, but to the explosions, removing his suit jacket and wrapping it around his neck, head, and face military style, like a Shemagh. He didn't want to breathe in any of the smoke or debris flying around, and his thin little undershirt wasn't cutting it as a filter. As the pilot of a particularly powerful box weapon, he took his dietary and bodily habits seriously.

Trevor never once broke eye contact with the woman, even as he finished with the jacket. He simply stared at her, his face stolid, his eyes unyielding in intensity. When it looked like she was going to reach out and grab him, Trevor crouched down, as if he were going to take off in a sprint at any moment. At the same time, an inhuman cry rang out across the auditorium, rattling the very walls themselves. The mafioso woman heard it as well, shuddering instinctively. She held up her hands in surrender. "Alright kid, suit yourself. Just get out of here, okay?"

Trevor didn't respond, electing instead to continue staring, his monotonous gray eyes boring into the woman like a drill. She turned and drew her gun again, running off into the thick dusty gloom of smoke and debris. It seemed to him that the Vongola were beginning to recover from the Rizzo's surprise attack, and were organizing their members in an attempt to defend their guardians.

Not like it'd make a difference. Trevor gripped the exclusive disk he received from the Vongola Storm guardian close to his chest, ensuring it would not be damaged by flying debris. The Rizzo were unstoppable, even when they were ordered by their boss to be merciful. A hundred years is a very long time for things to grow and shift and change.

To evolve.

Their technology. Their box weapons. Their flames. The Rizzo were simply the more advanced beings. And it showed now, in this skirmish between the two families. The Vongola were exactly as the history books described them to be. They were... Trevor looked down at the disk held to his chest, sighing softly through his nose. They were pretty cool to meet in person, but weren't at all the legends they've come to be known as back in the future. Not yet.

They were just—

A sound like an inbound missile caused Trevor's ears to perk up. He'd heard this sound too many times before as a frontline soldier in the war against the invaders. It was like a high-pitched whine that got deeper and deeper until—BOOM!

Something smashed into the wall a dozen or so meters from where Trevor stood, kicking up yet another plume of dirt and debris that rolled over the area like a tidal wave. The boy shielded his face with his forearm, averting his eyes as the smoggy cloud overtook him. Trevor rolled out of the smog, coughing lightly. Clear on the other side of the auditorium—practically an archaic American football field away from where Trevor currently stood—he made out the silhouette of Flandre, the Rizzo Dark Matter guardian. Judging by the damage to the wall behind her and the look of her gear, it would seem that a Newtonian reaction had occurred between her and...

Trevor looked to his right, at the thing that crash landed into the wall, but only saw a mound of rubble. As the translucent dust cloud cleared, he noticed movement. Suddenly, the rubble exploded, pulverized by whatever was trying to free itself from the crushing pile of cement chunks and fragmented rebar. Out from the debris crawled what Trevor could only describe as a monster, its body shrouded in an inky red-tipped frenetic blackness that ebbed and flowed chaotically, like... like... was that a flame?

The monster glanced to the left and then to the right in quick furious succession before its beady red eyes landed on the boy. Concurrently, Trevor recognized the beast. The contour of its body, the shape of its face, the length of its arms and legs, its height, it's hair... was this Namine 'The Tempest' Gokudera? Was this the Vongola Storm guardian?

Trevor frowned slightly, attempting to further process what he saw, but was jolted from his thoughts when the monster unleashed a primal shriek in his direction, the noise a deafening dissonance that shattered any semblance of thought and focus. All he could do in response was cover his ears with his hands, screwing his eyes shut.

The auditory attack lasted for what seemed like an eternity before finally subsiding. "Trevor, watch out!" came the faint echo of a distant yet familiar voice, but the boy failed to register the sound on account of the high-pitched chime ringing in his ears—an aftereffect of his eardrums nearly rupturing. Trevor righted himself, slowly opening his eyes and fighting back the sensation of vertigo, his vision blurry. Before him was a flame monster, a dark demon, a being of wrath. It was something that wasn't a Vongola ability... something that was never in any of the history books.

Immediately, a new sensation filled his head—a comfortably familiar one. His box weapon, known in the future as the Conflagration or "C" Frame—a tiny black cube that hung from a bracelet on his wrist—had detected its wearer's physical and psychological stress. It was attempting to power itself on. Initially, Trevor embraced the sensation, eager to partake in the promise of power, protection, and familiarity that the C-Frame offered, but stopped just short of bringing it out. Alastor's order came to the forefront of his conscious mind, dampening his urge to use the weapon. His orders were to stay put. He was not to reveal the existence of the C-Frame. He was not to engage any of the Vongola guardians. He was not to kill.

This internal conflict caused Trevor to hesitate, and in that hesitation the flame monster attacked, skittering forward on all fours in the most alien manner conceivable. Trevor held out his hand, palm facing his attacker, the universal symbol for "stop". He used his other hand to clutch the disk to his chest. From there, things began to move in extremely slow motion for the boy, his mind racing, his heart pounding on his chest. An acrid smell filled his nostrils—the smell of foreign earth, singed metal, and smoldering bodies. The vivid sounds of machines—the human defenders, frames, similar in design to his own C-Frame—roaring to life overtook his ears, drowning out the incessant ringing. Glancing down at his feet, the ground on which he stood was not the splintered ruins of some Vongola facility, but consisted of red clay-like sand.

He instantly knew where he was. The battle of Olympus Mons. Mars.

"Incoming!" came a commanding voice. "Hold!" The words seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

Looking back up, what Trevor saw rushing at him now was not a raging flame beast, but a hostile enemy alien armor, its body like a mass of black and gunmetal tentacles in a shape vaguely resembling that of a human being's, its various parts in constant flux, shifting and turning in on themselves at odd intervals. The enemy armor was oozing maroon flame, its jagged metal teeth bared with intent to kill.

And again it screamed at him, though this time the sound came out as more of an electronic reverberation, like a tone from one of those old dial-up modems.

Upon laying eyes on the enemy armor, Trevor felt something pierce through the numbness of his continued existence: vulnerability. He felt like his life and the lives of his friends, his family, were in grave danger. He felt it deep in the core of his being, like a hand clenching his heart, yet he felt as if he had no control over what was happening before him. He had no control. He could only watch.

Just like that day.

The enemy armor reared up, its foremost tentacles reconfiguring themselves into jagged blades, the deep maroon flames of Quasar coalescing into a fine line along the blades' edges. Immediately, the creature neutralized the two of the human frames that stood to either side of Trevor, stabbing the machines straight through their chest compartments. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know that the pilots were killed in the resulting Quasar-fueled explosions. Trevor stood there, a frozen pilot, as the enemy armor spun and skittered, targeting him, the bizarre machinations of its armor proving both eerily enthralling and utterly terrifying.

The alien's flaming blade reached him, punching through his chest like a fist through tissue paper.

Trevor bowed his head, looking down at where the mass of tentacles had torn through his shirt and into his body. Blood pooled at the edge of his lips. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't speak. He could barely move. It was as if he were drowning in molasses. Or the cruor of his fallen comrades. Darkness licked at the edges of his vision, quickly gaining ground until his world faded entirely to black, the finality of it all settling across his shoulders like a dense blanket, sealing his fate.

And then someone called his name.



"You!" Keiko screamed at the man, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!!"

Fredrick gave her a perplexed gaze, "Umm... Keiko?"

She rammed the man to the ground, headbutted him, screamed at him, and even dug her nails into his arms. Fredrick stood in awe of Keiko's rage. She's hurting him. I must save him! That's what Serlina would say! he thought, hyping himself up. He looked down at his arm where Serlina rested, sealing his wound with what remained of her body. Without the purified flame produced by the stolen Rain ring, he wasn't sure how long she'd last outside of the box. The mere notion of her not fluttering about and chattering in his mind at her leisure was like peering over the cliff and into an endless abyss of loneliness, and it scared him. Scared him more than anything had ever scared him in his entire life.

"UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!" Keiko screamed, as if she were inspired by the howls of Flandre's enemy.

Tears started to shape in his eyes as he saw Kieko beating the poor man in a berserk fury. Despite the melancholy that tugged at him, Fredrick knew he had a duty—an obligation!—to make sure his friend didn't beat up other people randomly. "Keiko, No!" he yelled, running up behind her and throwing his arms around her shoulders. He interlocked his wrists in an attempted bear hug, injecting into his friend whatever remained of his quickly diminishing stores of Rain flame with the hope that the flame's tranquility attribute would pacify her. "Please, Stop it Keiko! You're hurting him!"

Sora looked at the rampant attacks of this era's "apex predator". Hmmm, didn't expect her to go wild like that... I'll really have to tone down the illusion. Maybe the head on the spear thing with her friend, may just not be a good idea, he thought. He pulled out a small pad, pen and wrote Do not show friend's head on spear. Results: Crazy. *Check mark* *Smiley face*. She continued her onslaught, while Sora walked up to her slowly. He glanced over at the raging Namine covered in an unknown flame and fighting Flandre. Are all women in the Vongola monsters? he pondered.

"K-k-keiko! Why are you hurting one of the Vongola!" he yelled out. She was attacking a Vongola mafia guard thinking it was Sora the whole time. His words started to become more slurred as his eyes poured tears, "Stop it!"

"Ewwww, she's really hurting him," he commented seeing the blood ooze out of the man. "A left hook, headbutt! Ouch! Oh! Kill em! Go SuperNova!" Sora ran up to her side, a safe distance away and begun cheering, pumping his arms like a fan at a rock concert.

Elizabeth noted the raging Namine and the berserk Keiko. After analyzing this unusual occurrence, she shifted her sights towards Alastor. "Brother," she paused, "What it this? Do all people of this time go wild when fighting? Do I need to scream as well?"

Unlike the others, Hildegarde was still standing behind both Sora and the rabid Vongola, but was not paying the gaggle much attention. She was focused solely on Shaji Ai, who was standing further off and to the side of the berserk Sun guardian and the Rain whelp. With the younger image of Alastor out of harm's way, it was long past time she got what she came here for.

Hildegarde rolled what remained of her hard candies between her fingers, deliberating over which technique to utilize. She was simply spoiled for options, and was completely out of patience. A dangerous combination for a woman so inclined. She began walking towards the girl, cracking her knuckles and stomping her feet in order to draw the probe's attention.

No more games. The alien traitor would hand over the ring or they'd be scrubbing what remained of its mind slave off the wall.

"Trevor, watch out!" Flandre shouted, her words carrying over to where the others stood. The Rizzo famiglia pivoted in unison, their collective sight focusing on the raging Nami, who was bearing down on Trevor clear on the other side of the auditorium. Without a moment's hesitation, Miku and Hildegarde surged forward like the twin turbines of a fighter jet. The Comet guardian streaked across the floor, leaving a trail of pale blue flames and frost in her wake. Hildegarde took to the air, rocketing towards the scene like an ICBM.

Unfortunately, Nami in all her rage was simply too fast, and they were much too far away to make it in time. In a blinding flare of black and red, she smashed into the Rizzo Moon guardian, bathing the area in her unknown flames. Miku and Hildegarde screeched to a halt a couple dozen meters away, looks of horror upon their faces. Back on the other side of the room, little Alastor puffed out his chest and stepped forward, fully intending to join the others in exacting sweet revenge on this primitive brute, but his elder image placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him.

"You and I are done here," the elder Alastor muttered.

The flareup of red and black flames that enshrouded the vicinity died down a moment later. Trevor stood, untouched, his hand still outstretched before him. Mere millimeters from the side of his face was Nami's inflamed claw-like hand, moments from rending the boy's skull in two. It was as if Nami were suspended in timelessness, though it quickly became evident that that was not the case.

Standing directly behind Nami was Donovan. He had a firm grip on the Storm Vongola's wrist.

"Woah there, beasty," he said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. The look on his face was positively murderous. "One more inch and I would've atomized you." He increased his grip on the Vongola's wrist, enough that his knuckles turned white. Any more force and he'd break it. "Understand?"

The beast didn't move at all as he spoke to it. Not a single inch. It wasn't that she didn't have the desire to move so much as she couldn't. Donovan, in maintaining physical contact with the girl, had not only robbed her of all of her momentum by injecting his flame into her, but was continually robbing her of any momentum she might acquire through any sort of movement. He'd effectively petrified the raging beast in its tracks.

"Trev."

At hearing Donovan call his name, Trevor recoiled noticeably, as if waking up from a nightmare. He blinked a few times, reorienting himself with his surroundings. Donovan frowned in sympathy. He was pretty sure he knew why his friend froze against the Storm guardian. Being a frontline soldier in a war for the survival of humanity meant seeing a lot of things that ought not be seen, and experiencing sensations that ought not be experienced. When not piloting his box weapon, Donovan noticed that, from time to time, Trevor would mentally lapse back into his own past battles, reliving his worst moments.

That's the price of being a hero. The part they don't put in the brochure.

Trevor gently placed his hand on Nami's cheek, nearly cupping the side of her face in his small extremity. Her rogue flame parted before his fingers like the red sea. Trevor stared into the girl's ruby red eyes, and she stared right back. Donovan could feel the intensity of their connection through his grip on the girl's wrist, and soon let go of her entirely. Instead of rushing forward and finishing her attack, Nami fell to her knees. Trevor followed her down, kneeling alongside her, never removing his hand from the side of her face.

There were no words. There was no exchange of blows. Nami's chaotic flame simply ceased to be, replaced entirely with an oddly luminous gray-white flame that manifested itself around the girl but for an instant before it, too, ceased. Nami crumpled, falling forward onto Trevor like a ton of bricks, but Donovan caught her before they both hit the ground, lowering her gently.

Donovan gave the Vongola guardian a quick once over. Flandre had definitely shown her what for. As far as he could tell, the vast majority of her bones were broken or fractured in some way.

Hopefully she'd survive, or the timeline might be in trouble.

Donovan winced, looking down at the hand he'd used to grip the Nami's wrist. His palm was burnt pretty badly, the withered and blackened skin interspersed with patches of red and pink. It was as if he'd reached out and touched a hot iron. Whatever that weird flame was, it was unlike anything he'd ever encountered before.

Trevor, his face still wrapped in his own makeshift mask, looked up at Donovan with his usual intractable gaze. His numbingly gray eyes would give even Medusa a run for her money. They were the eyes of someone who had encountered far more than their fair share. Donovan broke eye contact first, looking off to the side instead. Miku and Hildegarde were rapidly approaching, but he wasn't looking at them. Over towards the other side of the auditorium, around where the younger image of Alastor fought with the Vongola's Rain guardian, stood none other than Alastor. The current one. The real one. One moment there was nothing, and then in the next, he was there.

Donovan sighed in bitter disappointment. It would seem that his opportunity to take the Lightning ring had just expired.