Fredrick Dill Koenig's Story

Alastor puckered his lips, forcing the cool evening air through his teeth thusly pursed. Instantly, a melodious tune filled the area around him, drowning out the crickets that, to him, were chirping in honor of his immense glory and unbridled resplendence. He continued to whistle some upbeat tune as he lay relaxed on his back, his hands behind his head, acting as a makeshift pillow.

As he sucked in air through his nose, an all-too-familiar scent saturated his olfactories. At first, the smell was sweet. Cloying even, like an overly ripe fruit. Under the smell's saccharine visage, however, was an overbearing metallic stink that mercilessly jabbed at his nose like a skewer, causing him to crinkle his nostrils every now and then.

Alastor opened his eyes, looking up at the sky above him and the infinite blackness of the space beyond it. The stars, innumerable and indescribable in their beauty, twinkling in the sky. The moon, centerpiece of the night sky, as mellow and calm as it was luminous. A lonely comet hurdled by in the far distance, leaving a thin white streak in its wake—or was it an asteroid? Alastor scoffed, using his arms to push himself up to a sitting position. He was never sure of such things.

The act of making himself vertical forced him to cease his whistling, which somehow made the smell that'd pervaded the air that much worse. Looking around, Alastor noted the source of the coppery scent.

Blood.

It was sort of everywhere, though Alastor certainly couldn't be blamed for that. These Vongola mafioso had decided to resist, and resistance always ended sloppily where he was concerned.

He sighed, replaying events in his head. He asked them politely if this was the location of the Vongola's Namimori headquarters. They told him he "wasn't allowed on the roof" or whatever and pulled guns on him. Blah blah blah, he snapped his fingers, bang bang bang. And now they're all dead.

"Totally not my fault," he said aloud to the closest corpse. The poor man or woman wasn't even recognizable as a human corpse anymore—more like a spattering of meat and expensive fabrics across the floor. Alastor poked at the gooey remains with the toe of his expensive black dress shoe, dying its anterior a dark crimson. Continuing to look around, he noted the positions of the other former Vongolas. Two others, to be precise.

They resembled flies splattered across a windshield. Their skulls were crushed in, their limbs embedded into the wall at odd angles, blood dripping from their assorted remains, pooling below them like a leaky faucet. Alastor smirked. Looked like a truck smashed them into the wall going a hundred miles an hour. Couldn't have been all that pleasant a ride, either.

Oh well.

Alastor leaned backwards, resting his head against the cool metal structure that jutted out of the ground at his back, his stringy black hair in stark contrast with its sterile hospital-white surface. It was tall, perhaps six or seven feet in height, and became thinner the closer you got to its center. Honestly, it looked awkward and foreign jutting out of the lightly variegated rooftop as it was, like some sort of alien space needle. It wasn't hard to imagine that it didn't belong there, or anywhere in this time period for that matter. If you listened carefully, you could hear a metronomic ticking coming from the tower, in tune with the sways and rhythm of time itself.

The Rizzo leader was extremely fatigued after having brought his team all the way over here just an hour or so prior. He could barely keep his eyes open, and switching positions seemed to have burned up the last of his energy. Just five minutes, he promised himself, yawning. Sure enough, with his legs folded beneath him and his hands in his lap, Alastor drifted into a light and wholly content slumber.

Surely the party downstairs would be heating up soon, with all the actors playing their proper roles.





"Do you have to follow me around?" Came a boy's voice, light and fluffy but altogether devoid of feeling, as if from a robot feigning humanity. Like his voice, the boy's face was equally stolid and impassive, even as he spoke in an almost accusatory fashion to his would-be stalker.

"Don't be droll, Trevor," his follower responded in a voice just as high and childlike, but with a distinct edge of authority. "I just wanna see who you're gonna talk to."

Trevor didn't respond, instead shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his black suit pants, the gentle lustrous fabric coming down to rest lightly upon the ankles of his dark gray and silver gym shoes. He wasn't a fan of dress shoes. They had a tendency to fall off whilst he was piloting his C-Frame, his anti-alien combat armor. Plus, they were generally uncomfortable, even in the future.

Under his unfastened Jacquard-stitched suit jacket, black enough to match his debonair dress pants, was a collared shirt, a rich resonant gray in color. Tucked in, top unbuttoned. The dress shirt matched his eyes perfectly—a vibrant ghostly gray. A gaunt black tie had been fastened under his collar by his handlers, but he'd loosened it with his fingers the moment he was free, leaving it to hang almost awkwardly to the side, its tail flapping up ever so slightly as he walked. He really disliked ties. They were relics of the past, like little choking devices. Bleh.

Top met bottom at the belt area, where Trevor sported a custom-made black leather belt featuring the Rizzo family insignia on the buckle. The look was completed by a thin dark gray fabric that sat upon his shoulders like a scarf, descending down to the small of his back. It was a gift he'd received from a dear friend a while back. It was made of a fireproof future material that, when heated, changed colors—usually to a flat light purple. Gifts were a rare thing for Trevor, so he treasured each and every one. Specifically, he wore the scarf everywhere he could get away with it.

All in all, his garb was an unorthodox mix of the urban and the dapper. He thought he looked stupid, all dressed up and what not, but he'd been told he looked "like a real Rizzo".

"You look like a real Rizzo, Trev," his now-definitely-a-stalker said aloud, as if reading the boy's thoughts, "though you really should fix the tie. Want me to do it? You know I can."

Trevor picked up his pace, throwing a look over his shoulder instead of responding verbally. The boy that was following him had to be about as old as Trevor himself: around twelve or so. He had stringy black hair that resembled Trevor's own stocky dark hair, too. They were even dressed similarly, with his follower garbed in lightly-pressed black slacks and a short white dress shirt that wasn't tucked in. Like Trevor, the other boy's suit jacket was unbuttoned, its tails swaying back and forth as he walked, his expensive black dress shoes clicking and clacking across the floor as he picked up his pace, lest he be left behind. The boy moved with a regal swagger, as if he somehow owned the place.

To any onlooker, the two could easily pass as brothers.

In his hurry to lose this stalker, Trevor neglected to keep track of where he was going and collided painfully with someone, nearly losing his balance. Ripping his hands from his pockets in an attempt to steady himself, he took an uncertain step backwards, looking up at whom he'd unintentionally accosted.

For the first time in quite a while, Trevor's stolid demeanor fractured, his eyes widening in genuine surprise at the person before him. Dressed in an all-black suit, the man was much taller than he was, that's for sure. He had rough, untamed black hair that fell down around his eyes as bangs. If Trevor were much taller, he might not've been able to make eye contact, but peering at an upward angle as he did allowed their eyes to meet. He noted the red tint of the man's irises and instantly felt an overpowering sense of... something.

Though impossible to notice by simply looking at him, Trevor's knees were shaking. His traitorous palms had become sweaty. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, like a racehorse pounding down the pavement. It was all very odd. He hadn't experienced anything like this since...

Well, since he fought his first alien four or so years ago, when he was eight. It's your purpose. He remembered one of the scientists from the facility telling him. It is the sole reason for your existence. A weapon for humanity. For the Rizzo. But now he was here. Back in the past. To fight the Vongola of legend that he'd read so much about growing up as a proverbial (or not) lab rat.

And now there was one standing right in front of him—he noticed immediately. And he'd managed to introduce himself by rudely bumping into him. Great.

There was an awkward silence before Trevor mustered the courage to speak, breaking eye contact by looking off to the side.

"Sorry. Um," he began, gulping audibly. "Hi. Sorry." He apologized a second time. "You're... um..." He paused, licking his lips and bringing his hands together in front of him. Subconsciously, he began to twiddle his thumbs. When he began again, he spoke as if possessed, with little to no air between his words. "You're Joel Lambe, the Vongola's Lightning Guardian. Adopted son of Lambo, five feet nine inches in height, one-hundred and forty five pounds, 18 in this time period, goes by the alias Ohm, and whose various interests include—"

A firm hand on the boy's shoulder interrupted his panicked drawl. Trevor turned his head in confusion to see his stalker standing next to him.

"Hey there, Vongola," the stalker began, meeting the man's eye without a single ounce of hesitation. "Nice place y'all got here. I'm Alastor," he said his name as if it were of the highest royalty, bowing deeply at the waist before continuing. "My buddy the talker over here is Trevor. Apparently, he's a huge fan." The words came out with just the slightest hint of sarcasm.

The boy Alastor stared up at the man, this "Joel," with the petite disarming smile of a happy-go-lucky child fresh upon his face; however, the boy's eyes told a different story—one of maturity, hostility, and ill intent.

"Can we trouble ya for an autograph?"





Elsewhere in the gymnasium, a gaggle of business executives in sharp multi-thousand dollar suits sipped their drinks and laughed at each other's off-kilter jokes.

"And then I told him just like this I told him," one of the executives began, his nasally voice catching in his throat. He was a short portly man with bulbous sunken eyes and posture so bad he had to walk with a cane in one hand and a wine glass in the other. "No, I like firing people!" With the way he spoke, it was obvious he was attempting an impersonation of someone, however nasally.

Apparently that was the punch line, because the other three executives busted out in raucous laughter, careful not to spill their drinks as they slapped their knees in unbridled glee. As they quieted down, another of the execs spoke up.

"I've got one," he said, his voice a deep baritone full of the weight and power of his position. He was obviously as accustomed to being the center of attention as he was demanding it, and demand it he did. The other executives each turned their bodies to face him, acknowledging him fully. Something about this man demanded their respect. Demanded their adoration. Demanded their eyes be on him at all times.

Far above all others, the man was like some sort of royalty—like a god—and he knew it. He moved with a royal air. He talked with a royal authority. He had a royal presence. There were none here greater than him, and everyone knew it, none more so than he.

He took a sip from his tall ornate glass cup before speaking again. The others followed suit.

"I recently encountered a family not too long ago," he began, bringing the drink away from his face and down to his side. He was quite a bit taller than six feet, and so towered above his fellows. "This family was particularly powerful, but they managed holdings that I wished to acquire, and were generally in my way."

The executives reacted with looks of mock shock upon their faces, one of them going so far as to silently mouth the words "no way".

"So," the man continued, "my guardians and I killed them all." He spoke as cavalierly as one would when conversing about the weather. "We removed their very existences from history itself, along with the existences of everyone connected with them. When we were done with their motley crew, it was as if they never were."

There was an awkward silence as the executives eyed their fellow CEO with looks of incredulity. Said man, for his part, simply took another sip of his drink, eyeing each of them in response. When they noted the sincerity in his eyes, their expressions transitioned from that of incredulous humor to abject fear. One of them even took a step backwards, jaw hanging. The others were similarly speechless.

If the man acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation before him, it didn't show. At all. The expression on his face was one of absolute tranquility—of a man so sure of himself that he regards his own confidence as one would a law of Physics. His hair, as pitch black as the night sky, was styled into a spiky configuration, the gel holding his hair up against gravity as if it were suspended in time. He wore a black pinstriped suit, buttoned properly, with a white undercoat and silver tie. His expensive black dress shoes reflected the ceiling of the gymnasium above.

He projected power. Raw. Dangerous.

With one final gulp, the man finished his drink, setting the glass down on a nearby table. The sound reverberated through the gaggle like a slap, knocking them from their stupor. The executive closest to the man found his courage first, speaking up.

"Excuse me, sir, b-but... are you serious?"

The man turned to him and raised his hand, slowly reaching inside his jacket. When he quickly removed a card, the other executives flinched slightly.

"The name's Alastor," the man said, responding to the executive's question with a curt gesture and a business card. The poor executive wilted under the force of Alastor's intense gaze, timidly grabbing at the card as if seeking permission. After a few grabs, Alastor allowed him to take it. "Alastor Rizzo." When he smirked, it was an expression devoid of humor or happiness. The malice in his eyes was palpable. "Look me up some time."

At that he swiveled on his heel, turning his back to the men. He was bored with them.

With both hands he straightened his tie.

It was almost time.

In his peripheral vision he spotted a girl with short straight pink hair moving about. Immediately, he knew who and what she was: one of the infamous Vongola.

Perfect.

As he moved towards her, he fought to keep down his smirk, though he couldn't keep the animus from his eyes. It was one of the few things that was truly beyond him.

"Hello, miss," he said as he walked up to her, holding out his hand. "You wouldn't happen to be one of those Vongola guardians I've heard so much about, now would you?"

It was a regular dawn in New York City. The birds were chirping in Central Park as the sun rose over the busy hustle-bustle of the city below. With not a cloud in the sky, it was looking to be a beautiful day. Marcus Pochelli, a simple fisherman, finally reels in his nets from a long night of catching halibut. His haul for the day wasn't large but it was enough to feed his family for another day or two. Moving his boat over the murky waters back to the city, a strange blip appears on his sonar.
"What the-"
With a mighty roar, a huge lizard crashes from the depths of the ocean, utterly destroying the poor fisherman's boat. Setting its sights on the city, the creature lumbered forward, hellbent on vanquishing the concrete jungle and all its inhabitants from existence.
Commissionaire Gordon watched silently from his office. The military couldn't possibly move fast enough to protect the city. Their was only one thing to do. Pressing the button on his desk, a large Asteroid appeared in the sky. A beacon of hope that could only bring justice.
In the blink of an eye, a streak of brown flames rocketed across the sky towards the great beast. With the power of one million suns, the masked avenger buried his right fist into the monster's chest, launching it far back into the sea. With the creature gone, the crowd finally got a look at their savior.

Large brown gauntlets covered his forearms and were met by a tight yellow and green spandex suit. His face was covered by a large helmet, obviously inspired by the Power Rangers. He stood triumphantly as the crowd swarmed around him, shouting his name.
"Meteor! Meteor! Meteor!"A small girl, not even seven years old, broke through the crowd. She had brilliant blue hair and a very stern expression.
"Hey Meteor, time to wake up!"

.......................................................................................................................................................................................

The city of New York seemed to vanish in an instant, quickly replaced by a hazy image of a dining hall. Donovan rubbed his eyes, secretly hoping that the dream had been a reality. His hopes were dashed as suits and tight dresses flooded his vision.
He was surprised to see his apparel matched the tone of the room. A shiny black tailcoat, the same color as his dress pants, adorned his torso. A brown collared shirt, half tucked in, complementing the orange of his hair. Not one to wear ties in the first place, Donovan slipped it off the first moment he got and had been currently using it as a makeshift pillow.
Along his waist was the leather belt every Rizzo guardian got when they received their title. Though he'd been a bit disappointed at first, the Asteroid guardian wore his belt with pride wherever he went, mostly because it got him free food and board.

"See Freddy, he was just sleeping. God you worry too much." To his immediate left stood a nervous looking boy about Donovan's age. He smirked, apparently this kid hadn't gotten the memo on the formal attire, showing up in a big blue and white hoodie. On his shoulder perched a small...faerie? He rubbed his eyes again but the faerie still remained, smiling arrogantly. Donovan reached towards the small blue creature, poking her in the stomach.
"Oh good you're real. I was afraid I'd gone insane. " The Faerie huffed in annoyance, whispering something in her companion's ear. He shook his head and extended his hand.
"H-hello sir. I'm Fredrick Dill Koenig and this" he gestured to his blue winged companion, "is Serlina." Donovan smiled, taking the boy's hand in his own.
"Nice to meet you Fredrick, Serlina, names Donovan Shmautz. I don't suppose you know where the bathroom is do you? I kind-of just woke up."

......................................................................................................................................................................................

The outside of the hall was much more quiet the the inside. As much as Donovan wanted to go inside and socialize, he had a job to do. After coming through Alastor's portal, the family had been dropped somewhere in Ireland. With only one day before the coronation, it had been Donovan's job to get them all to Japan with time to spare. A tiring effort no doubt, he collapsed at a table as soon as they arrived at the banquet.
With an silent thunk, Donovan dropped his last Palla into the ground around the building. When the time for action came, Donovan's entrance would be the best, he'd made sure of that. With his weapons in place, the guardian went back inside.

The hall had become a lot more sociable since he left, the anticipation of the new guardians seemed to put everyone in a good mood. Even Trevor, who never seemed to enjoy anything, was gawking over a scrap of paper with the stupidest grin on his face. With light steps, he sneaked up behind his friend and glanced at the paper.
'Whenever you need, lightning will strike for you. For my biggest fan.'
"Seems like you got the autograph you wanted after all, huh Trev?" He said, ruffling the boy's hair. He motioned to the faerie who had woken him up earlier.
"If you're going for the complete set, let's get that guy's next. I'm not sure who he is but that little faerie isn't just a hologram."

........................................................................................................................................................................................




"Serlina, I can't talk to her. Look at how beautiful she is. She wouldn't want anything to do with me."
The blue faerie sighed, pushing her minuscule hand to the bridge of her nose.
"Freddy, you're going to be GUARDIANS with her in a few minutes. Don't you think you should get to know her better?" The boy's gaze drifted across to the topic of their conversation. Murasaki Eri. For him, it had been love at first sight. Her dainty white hair seemed to bounce with life, ruby lips kissed her pale skin, and ice blue eyes that seemed too warm whoever's heart they fell upon. Her refusal to hurt people was icing on the cake.
"I don't know Serlina, what if she thinks I'm weird."
"Fredrick I swear to god if you don't go talk to her, I will."

Fredrick swallowed hard. Serlina didn't make empty threats and putting her back in her box wasn't possible. Looks like he had no choice but to talk to the object of his affections. With small nervous steps, Fredrick made his way over to the other side of the room as Serlina his inside her box, eagerly listening.

"Uh, h-hi Murasaki." He managed to stammer out.
"So, tonight's the big night huh? I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each-other...." An awkward silence fell over Fredrick as he clambered to find more words to say. A small pinch came from his arm, Serlina's doing no doubt.
"So I was w-wondering if you'd like to go out for dinner-LUNCH....yes...lunch."
Serlina didn't know whether to applaud or sigh in disappointment.

Eri had been at her wit's end waiting for Keiko to come around.

'Ugh... no doubt she's gonna be late again at this point.' she mentally shook her head, flattening out creases on her suit. The only person whom Eri could forgive for lack of punctuality was her best friend, Keiko... with good reason. That girl was never on time for anything ever since they both met.

"Uh, h-hi Murasaki."

Eri looked at the person who greeted her. It was the Rain Guardian, white hoodie and messy hair galore. There was the lingering question on whether it was soft, but she preferred not to dwell upon it. If it was anything, he looked like he was in a hostage situation and he stammered, which often occurred whenever they talked. She gave him a gentle smile, hopefully to calm whatever nerves he was having.

"Hi, Koenig. Hi, Serlina." she dipped her head in greeting before meeting her optics with Fredrick's similarly colored ones in curiosity.

"So, tonight's the big night huh? I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each-other...."

She nodded in agreement but for a moment there was a slight silent awkwardness as she waited for him to continue, as he always did. She knew better to just let the silence sink in and wait for Fredrick to speak again. She didn't really want to cut him off and come across as rude.

"So I was w-wondering if you'd like to go out for dinner-LUNCH....yes...lunch."

Initially, Eri's eyes widened for a fraction before she smiled, dipping her head as agreement.

"Lunch, dinner, your pick." she told him. "Just remember we need to be here in time for the event."

She tugged on one of her braids, her Vongola Cloud Ring flashing in the light. "Any place you have in mind?"

---

---

Keiko had been at the Namimori Police Department, listening to an overbearing officer explaining the patrol groups for that day. She yawned multiple times.

'Bawring... Hell, I wanna be at the HQ right now, the cubs need their mother.' she thought to herself. She yawned again when the officer made another obvious statement.

"Trainee Miyamoto, do you find my speech boring?" the officer questioned her sternly.

"Oh not at all sir, I was just really tired. I mean, it's another big day today, so I could hardly get any sleep." she lied, giving her officer a sweet smile.

Pleased, the officer continued with the elaborate explanations while Keiko drifted in between reality and dreams.

'I need to remember to send Ri a text that I'm gon' to be late.' Keiko grimaced sleepily, 'She ain't gon' like that.'

"Yes," the pink haired girl replied, her voice devoid of any semblance of feeling or empathy. In this she reminded this elder Alastor of Trevor, one of his more fearsome guardians back in his proper timeline. For some reason, that caused a jackal's grin to spread slowly across his face. "I am the current Guardian of the Mist for the Vongola."

Though he feigned a polite ignorance as to her true identity, Alastor had quite a bit of intel on this Vongola. Perhaps more than he did on any of the other guardians. This "girl" was a traitor to her species. One of their slaves.

Disgusting.

As the mist guardian completed her sentence, Alastor did something unexpected. In one moment, he was towering over her, but in the next, as if time itself had skipped a frame, he had her right hand firmly gripped in his own, and was actively pulling her towards him.

With the girl sufficiently caught off guard, the man kneeled slightly, careful not to wrinkle his expensive suit. Slowly, methodically, he placed his lips an inch or so away from her ear. He was close enough to feel the force of her presence against his cheek, to hear the air escape her lungs, to see the veins in her head pumping, to smell her scent—the rancid stench of a blood traitor.

"Can your eye see me for what I really am, Shaji Ai?" He whispered his rhetoric, pronouncing each syllable carefully. Delicately. Menacingly. He tightened his grip on her hand with intent to injure, noting with thinly veiled glee her Vongola ring pressing into the skin of his palm.

Easy. So easy it would be to take from this freak. To take her ring. To take her dignity. To take everything that she was and destroy it, as was his birthright. For, in the parallel timeline from which this particular Alastor hailed, he was head of the Rizzo famiglia and more. He was a planetary king—a god!—and people like this girl?

They were the peasants. They were the nothings. They were mere obstacles, standing in the shade of his glory. His power.

Alastor barely stifled a sigh upon releasing the girl's hand. She was not the Vongola whom he was brought here to accost. She was not his target.

"Disappear," he muttered, sauntering away with a princely air. And with that, he was done with her. To him, it was as if she hadn't even existed in the first place.

The entire incident lasted no more than a dozen seconds, Alastor once again straightening his tie with a series of curt professional gestures as he walked. This was the third time he'd straightened it since he'd arrived.

In front of the man was a gaggle of peasants, all blathering on about nothing. Three people soon caught his eye, however.

One was a boy, tall and slender, with light brown eyes and brown hair. This one seemed to be following him, albeit with a modicum of tact. Alastor immediately pegged him as this timeline's Star guardian. A powerful ally he will make one day, Alastor thought to himself. Another was a blue-eyed girl with short, choppy black hair styled in two high pigtails. Alastor recognized her as a younger version of his very own Comet guardian and little sister, Miku. She was as regal and powerful as a queen back in his timeline, but not so here. Not yet, perhaps. Alastor shook his head, though the gesture was barely noticeable. They even had the same lack of regard for formal attire.

It wasn't Miku that interested him, however. It was with whom she was speaking that had drawn his eye.

He was dressed like an urban miscreant, with short dirty blonde hair hidden under a skull cap of sorts. Hoodie. Jeans.

Alastor reveled as a certain feeling began to bubble up in him, eventually infecting every inch of his being with its tantalizing tingles.

He'd found his target.

However, before he could take another step, the lights in the room dimmed noticeably. Alastor tilted his head, peering over his shoulder. He noted hushed activity centralized around the gymnasium's stage. Seems like the Vongola's tech demo was about to begin.

With another curt, surgical gesture, Alastor straightened his tie for the fourth time that night. Hopefully the Rizzo guardians of this timeline were ready for what comes next.





Trevor grinned, gawking over the thin piece of paper between his fingers as Josei walked away. Okay, so he didn't really "grin" per say, but he curled back his lips and aligned his teeth like he'd seen people do in the movies. The "warmth" of his attempted facial gesture failed to defrost the expression of tranquil boredom that radiated from his eyes, but it was as close as the boy could get to a natural smile. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure how to react to what had just happened. Perhaps a frown would be in order. Or maybe a laugh? He imagined how Flandre might react. Instantly, his mind's eye presented him with a scene of bloodshed and death, with Flandre standing atop a mound of bodies, laughing maniacally.

Hmm, probably not the appropriate reaction there.

Whatever nervousness that overcame him in front of the lightning guardian had finally subsided, replaced by something entirely new. Was it adoration? Was this thankfulness? Maybe. Trevor wasn't sure, but, as he stared down at the autograph in his hands, he knew that he liked this "it," whatever it happened to be.

To have met one of the infamous Vongola was beyond surreal. Their tales were the stuff of legends back in the future, Trevor knew this first hand. His every spare moment outside of the C-Frame was spent reading up on the trials and adventures of the past families. Of all the literature available, he found the harrowing accounts of the Vongola's tenth and eleventh generations most impressive.

Their eleventh generation especially reminded him of the current Rizzo guardians in so many ways. And now he actually got to meet one... it was the boy's wildest fantasy come true. Surely he would treasure this autograph as he would his own life. He reread the words inscribed on the paper: Whenever you need, lightning will strike for you. So cool! Josei's handwriting was a bit messy, but Trevor didn't care.

Absorbed as he was in his own world, Trevor didn't notice someone approach from behind.

"Seems like you got the autograph you wanted after all, huh Trev?" The person said, ruffling the boy's hair. Immediately, Trevor had the knee-jerk urge to slap whomever's hand it was away. He clenched his eyes shut, hackles raised like a cat's, a sensation not unlike vertigo assaulting his senses. He didn't like people touching him, least of all his hair—he'd had enough prodding and probing as a lab rat earlier in his life.

Before he reacted, however, he noted that he recognized the speaker. He kinda recognized the hand on his head, too. Donovan, he said to himself, opening his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. He even let out a small content sigh. Donovan, the asteroid guardian, was special. He didn't mind a pat on the head from him.

"If you're going for the complete set," Donovan continued, "let's get that guy's next. I'm not sure who he is but that little faerie isn't just a hologram." The older boy said, motioning at someone else in the crowd.

Faerie? Trevor knew who he was instantly. "Vongola's rain guardian," he said aloud, folding Josei's autograph neatly in his hands and—

Trevor froze, looking down at his hands.

Empty.

The paper. The autograph. It wasn't there.

"To my biggest fan," Alastor mimicked Josei's voice, reading from the autograph he'd been given. "What a crock." With one hand, he balled the paper up and threw it on the floor. He then snapped his fingers twice, catching the attention of one of the ushers. The man that approached was much taller than the boy Alastor was. "Clean this up," the little guy commanded, pointing at the balled up piece of paper. "I don't want to see it anymore." The waiter gave him a sideways look for a moment before acquiescing.

Trevor only stared at what was in Alastor's other hand. It was the second autograph, the one Josei had given to him specifically. The one that was taken from him. Alastor was fast. No, he wasn't fast, it was different than that. On another level. Trevor didn't even realize it'd been taken from him until it was far too late. All he did was look away for a single moment...

The boy Alastor turned towards Trevor and Donovan, though he was focusing on Trevor. Effervescent red met icy gray as they locked eyes.

"Why do you want this crap anyway, Trev?" Alastor asked, waving the autograph in the air above them. "It's not like they're Rizzo or something. They're just a buncha forgotten nobodies that sucked and died." Alastor brought his hands together, his eyes going wide with fervor. "Not godly like us!"

When Alastor made a motion like he was going to rip the autograph in half, Trevor's hand shot out, gripping Alastor's forearm in a vice. For a moment, neither boy moved.

It was Trevor that spoke first.

"Give it back," he uttered, his icy expression never shifting for a second. There was no trace of anger in his voice. No outrage, wrath, or indignation. There was nothing, nothing but his words.

"These Vongolas you love so much are trash," Alastor pouted, pulling his arm in an attempt to break Trevor's grip. His tone that of a spoiled child not getting what he wanted. "You'll see how weak they are when we crush them!"

Slowly but surely, a dark gray-white glow began to emanate from Trevor's hand. There would be no time trickery where that autograph was concerned. "Give. It. Back."

Unbeknownst to the two boys, the lights in the room had dimmed noticeably. The Vongola's technology demonstration was about to begin, and they were about to blow the mission.

As his suspicions had confirmed, he'd been rejected without a second thought. Like a puppy that had lost its owner Fredrick ducked his head and prepared to slink back into the bustling crowd of the party when a loud and familiar voice rang through his mind.
"She's smiling you idiot!"
Smiling? That couldn't be. Every time he had played this scenario over in his head, she'd turned away disgusted. Could it really be the other way around? Peeking through his bangs, Fredrick's heart skipped a beat.

She wasn't just smiling, she was blushing.
"Lunch, dinner, your pick." she told him. "Just remember we need to be here in time for the event."

Soaring on cloud nine couldn't even begin to describe the young guardian's joy. In an unusual bout of whimsy, Fredrick began to dance. His feet moved with unnatural grace, grasping hold of his soon-to-be-date's hands and whisking her across the newly polished floor. Holding her close to his body, Fredrick twisted his partner around the room, dodging children and waiters with ease. It wasn't long before a circle of guests had opened around them, cheering at the performance. The short boy spun his partner, not noticing the pack of older women eyeing him hungrily. By the time he drooped his partner, her white hair strands of snow hanging from her skull, Fredrick was beaming as bright as the sun.

A small blue light burst through the crowd, hovering right beside her owner's face.
"Wow Fred, that was amazing! To be honest, I never thought you would take it THAT far but hey, it seems to have impressed everyone else." Fredrick looked up, quickly plopping his partner on her feet and bowing. His mumbled thank you's being quickly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Pulling himself away from his adoring fans, he looked back to Eri.

"Sorry about that, I guess I overreacted..." Fingers fumbled with themselves as his nervousness returned. What had he done? Forcefully taking her into his grasp and parading her around the room in front of everybody. The lights began to dim and with it the cheers of the crowd. It seemed the presentation was starting soon.

"I-if you're serious about the date, I know a good..." Fredrick wracked his brain to remember the country escargot came from. America? No, they refuse to eat anything that isn't made from cows. England? No, they just eat potatoes. Canada? Do they even have any native food? "Western place if you'd like."

...............................................................................



Now Donovan didn't know much, if anything, about the Vongola. He'd usually skip the intel meetings to sleep or test out some new techniques. After all, knowing too much about your opponent takes out all the fun of fighting them. However it was hard to believe that the faerie kid was actually the Vongola's Rain guardian and this is coming from the guy who works with a paraplegic and a twelve year old. He just looked so...jittery. Like a little kid who's too afraid to go to the bathroom at night.

Then again Trevor won't go to the bathroom alone either.

Expecting to see the glint of excitement in his small friend's eyes, he was surprised to find the fire of burning hatred instead.
"Hey Trev, what's wr-"
"To my biggest fan," With a heavy sigh, Donovan turned to behold the great and righteous Alastor, give or take a few years. If you took Hitler, put him in a kid's body and gave him the ability to manipulate the fabric of time itself, you might have one fifth of the asshole that little Alastor is.

And this little asshole has stolen one of his friend's prized possessions.

"Why do you want this crap anyway, Trev? It's not like they're Rizzo or something. They're just a buncha forgotten nobodies that sucked and died." Little Al' lifted his arms with devilish glee, fully prepared to rip Trevor's memento in two. Donovan, however, was much quicker to the draw as Trevor's arm shot out and clamped down on the perpetrator, the little brown flames disappearing from his sleeve as quickly as they appeared.

Little Al's expression turned sour, desperately trying to wrench free from Trevor's grasp.
"These Vongolas you love so much are trash, You'll see how weak they are when we crush them!"
Suddenly, two hands pushed the two boys apart. In the blink of an eye, Donovan carefully folded the paper and handed it back to Trevor.

"Still picking fights, aren't we little guy?" he said, stepping between the two and grabbing Little Al by the collar. "I'm gonna give you a few pointers, alright? First off, saying we're going to crush the Vongola isn't the best way to stay undercover. Second," He jabbed a finger into Little Al's chest, the smile dropped from his face. "If you ever touch any of Trevor's shit again, I'll beat you so bad you'll think last time was a leisurely day at the spa. Understand?"

"Now, why don't you go ruin someone's life who isn't supposed to be fighting on your side."

"Whoa-" was the only reaction Eri could muster.

Before she knew it, Fredrick had grabbed hold of her hands and whisked her away. Much to her surprise and slight discomfort, he held her close to him and they began to twist around the room. Many a time she was afraid they would crash into children, waiters, anyone around them but Fredrick would steer them away. Much to her embarrassment, guests were making a circle around them, watching and cheering them on. The shorter Fredrick even managed to spin her and eventually dipped her down. Unconsciously, one of her legs extended up and out, completing the move.

"Oof." Eri blinked and panted, gripping onto Fredrick's arms for dear life while her hair spilled behind her.

Fredrick looked up, quickly plopping Eri partner on her feet and bowing. While he mumbled his thanks, Eri smoothed the creases on her suit and pants, muttering under her breath. She shot Fredrick with occasional glares while the crowd went wild as Fredrick attended to them. When he pulled himself away, Eri could only glare at him with a very red and embarrassed face. She was always shy to dance around crowds and this fool had just done just that.

"Sorry about that, I guess I overreacted..."

The lights began to dim and with it the cheers of the crowd. It seemed the presentation was starting soon.

"I-if you're serious about the date, I know a good... western place if you'd like."

Eri huffed and crossed her arms.

"First of all. What was that for?!" she hissed, "I'm not good dancing around a huge crowd of people! I get emb-"

She caught herself quickly before she was going to show any sign of weakness. She tugged on her braids again, calming down a little. The redness in her face subsided, but a hint of her embarrassed blush remained.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to. You just caught me by surprise." she mumbled, shifting her well-polished leather shoes against each other. She then gave him a smile. "Next time, just do it when there's no one around."

She turned around to face the location of the presentation.

"Western sounds good. But first, we have a presentation to attend do."

In the back of her mind, the dance was good. It had been a while since someone had taken her for a spontaneous twirl and back then that person was none other than-

---

---

YAWN!

The officers were finally dismissed from the briefing and told to go to their selected stations and Keiko was raring to go. After all, she had been given the priority to patrol around Namimori, the one place that she had wanted to go in the first place. The only problem now was...

"Trainee Miyamoto! Stand upright, no slumping!"

Yeap... she was stuck with the commanding officer. What a drag...

"Yes sir..." she replied, forcing herself to adopt the upright posture.

There were hardly any happenings that time, no burglary or assault. The two eventually got coffee and Keiko was questioned by her officer regarding her reports, which claimed her to be a great asset to the task force.

"I just don't see anything that would imply that you're as good as th-"

He was interrupted by the abruptness of his trainee, who had already made her way outside and running at top speed, with an acceleration considered inhuman.

"HEY! MIYAMOTO GET BACK HERE!"

She turned a corner and was gone from his sight. While he fumed, he got back into the panda-car and followed after the dark-skinned youth. Just as he rounded the corner, Keiko was already back, with an older woman following behind her with an expression of pure admiration, an unconscious man dressed like a thug on her shoulder. It was just impossible for a girl like her to be lifting a man of that weight without any signs of slumping or strain.

While the officer continued to be speechless, Keiko plopped the man against the hood of the car and cuffed him before throwing him into the backseat of the panda-car.

"Sir, there's one. Send 'im back to HQ, and bring this lady in as well. That's if ya need her fer questionin'." Keiko spoke in her usual bored drawl. The officer, still stunned, merely nodded.

When the woman was seated comfortably on the passenger side, Keiko waved and watched as the panda-car drove off. She then stretched and breathed out, almost happily.

"Good, now that he's gone..." Keiko unbuttoned her uniform to reveal a black sleeveless shirt underneath and tied the uniform around her waist before adjusting her garter-belt and knee-high boots. "It's time for mother to attend to her lil' cubs."

She bounded over the wall with ease and made her way to the hidden Vongola HQ. Stopped for identification purposes, Keiko merely pulled out a chain around her neck to reveal the Vongola Sun Ring and was instantly granted access.

'Looks like I made it in time.' she thought as the lights went dim. There was stares from the people around her, staring at this tanned girl who was wearing a sleeveless shirt and police shorts with garter-belts, but no one questioned the ring around her neck, which made her without a doubt, one of the 11th Generation. Keiko's trademark prideful smirk played around her lips.

'That's right. You better know who you're dealing with.'

And then she bumped into a man slightly taller that she was. Irritated, she glanced up to see brown hair and her hand reached out to pluck a strand.

"Watch it dude." she hissed.

There was something very different about him. She could literally smell it... well, it was what she couldn't smell. Normally, she was able to discern someone from their primary flame because of it's properties and her enhance senses. But this man... it was a very, very different smell. There was a very disturbing thought in her mind and she became wary of the man before her.

'A flame not of this world? How?'

The girl was smiling and actually showing genuine laughter. It was either that, or she was real good at faking it. Though Cain didn't think it was an act at all. Not like some of the pompous 'queens' around him have put on. Though one thing he noticed, is that even though she stated that she hadn't been from around there, she hadn't gave up the location of her school. Which was weird because he was only playing about the school trip thing. If anyone was here, he'd expect members of a school to be the last ones. This wasn't that type of party. Though, because he didn't really care all that much about it, he let his suspicion slide and went on to the next subject. After hearing her relief about not being the only one in casual clothing, he smiled. "Yeah," he said, "I believe that if I'm going to wear something then it minus well be something that defines me. Not something people want to define me, but something that actually shows what type of person I am. I like these clothes because they do just that. That, and they're comfortable."

Cain shared a laugh with the girl after she asked him what he was there for. He was actually laughing at his hair keep, as he remembered Joel tell him that he minus well have kept his cap on. Blushing, and putting it back on his head, he nervously rubbed his nose. "Well. I guess you could say this was my party I suppose," he tried explaining in the most Casual way ever. "No, that's not right. Hmmm. Yeah okay. So you could definitely say this party is actually centered around me in a way. It's actually hard to explain. Dang. I wish I knew how." Never liking the idea of explaining his place as family head to people, every time he was forced to it would happen like this. Basically he would give people the dimmest explanation he could. One that wasn't actually an explanation, but a bunch of maybe's and sort of's. Though, she'd see him for who he really was in a couple minutes.

"Yeah. I'm sort of the Vongola boss. Hehehe."




Meanwhile, Joel went around the room, collecting information on who was here and who wasn't. It didn't take long for most of the family to get there, despite one person, but he knew she'd arrive soon.

"Joel," Someone called from behind him.

Turning around, Joel looked at the man responsible for funding all of this. Never in his days of knowing the man, had he ever trusted him. He looked like a snake of sorts with thin eyes and a crooked mouth. Reminded him of one of those mobsters from the old days, or movies that he'd watch about the old days. The biggest problem was that he wasn't Mafioso at all. Just a rich son of a gun. Though, since he had called him, he had no other choice but to talk to him. For saying nothing to a donator at a party funded by them would make the whole family look bad. Yet another instance where he wished he was Cain formed as he sighed to himself, forcing a smile on his lips. "Mr. Hie. What a pleasant surprise you coming all this way. Are you ready for the events kick off?" His voice was patterned to an alternate vibe and showed no tattle towards his thoughts.

"Hmph. Very much indeed I am my boy," The man cheered. "You know, not everyone can say that they were present for the 11th generation becoming an official team. Hehhe. How do you feel about the whole thing?"

"I don't know. I suppose it's not a big step for me." Joel actually felt the opposite, but he wasn't going to let some outcast to the family know he was feeling tired already.

"Oh really. Well I'm glad you don't see it as a problem. That means you can focus on the goal we paid towards. I want the 11th generation to be the best, as much as anyone else. I'm sure you know as well as I, what that means your main focus should be. Remember. We're all watching you. Rooting for you, if you will." The man of rich descent bowed and turned around. His whole movement style. His voice. It was a constant reminder to Joel why he had hated people like that. It was also a reminder that he was helpless around those types of people. People who reminded him that he was currently the fall guy. If anything happened with the 11th, it would be because he failed to groom them. He had always wondered, how can he be a boss to his boss. According to guidelines, the 11th sky guardian should have been in charge, but, because of his age, they decided he needed guidance. What the hell did that mean? Who was going to guide him? No one was alive or available to do it. No one besides from him. Thus it had been decided years ago, that Joel would be the one to teach him how to lead, so that he could lead, Joel would be the one to protect him, until he could protect himself. Joel was the fall guy. Until that kid got it right, Joel would always be the fall guy. Though, he never cared about what people would put on him. He knew it would never come to that. For he would give his life for Cain.

"Hey. Doctors." Joels voice was stern, as it had always been with doctors. Oh how he hated the doctors in the family. "Get to your designated areas. I just felt the last needed guess come in. We're starting in five. Someone tell the guards to stop frolicking and do their damn jobs. I swear if you guys don't act like this is your job, I'll sever you completely from it. Hurry up. Where the hell is Cain?!"

"Wow Joel." The familiar sound made Joel's head turn eagerly. He let a grin cross on his serious demeanor. "You sure have a lot of moxie shouting out orders. I might start thinking you're cool."

"Let it go Wall. I don't need you nitpicking at my leadership."

"Power hungry." Wall laughed.

"I might be. Hehehe. It doesn't matter where Cain is actually. He knows where to go when the lights turn off. We all should. You might want to stand back." Joels smile was cunning and threatening enough to make his own friend step back, but he still stuck out his tongue at Joels own cockiness.



The lights went off and the small noise of the video began to play. the head scientist on their team walked up on stage and began his speech. "Ahem. Yes. Is this mike on."

"I do belief it is." One man said from the crowd.

"Jolly good." The old man said. "Now I had a script written, but then I forgot that my eyes are no longer good enough to read with I'm afraid."

An awkward silence went around the room.

"Ahem. It was only a joke. Don't be afraid to laugh."

Cain was probably the only one who wanted to laugh, but held it in as he looked at Miku.

Awe damn. She's gonna find out in like two seconds anyway. I minus well just come out and say it.

"So yeah. I said I was sort of the Vongola leader. If you wouldn't mind, could I rephrase that?" He said trying to come to grips with telling her.

"Anyway," The scientist continued. "Yes. So as you know, we have brought you here for two reasons. One reason is for you to see the official unison of the new Vongola family guardians. The second, to here us give out description and showcase about the new box weapon projects we are working on. Our goal this time, is to make the 11th generation the best out of all the others combined. We want to secure that there will be no foe that the family can't beat. That is why, everything talked about in this room is confidential to the outside. You all know the repercussions for leaking information from events like these. However, before I give a teaser to the secrets of the new generation, I must call the Vongola head, along with his guardians, for his opening speech." As the man ended, he stepped back giving the floor to the head of the Vongola family. The head, who happened to be none other than Cain.

The boy stepped back, feeling sort of down that he was made to talk so soon. "I'm sorry I didn't come out right and tell you. I'll make it up to you after the party, okay?" Flashing a smile, he took his skates from his bag and placed them under his feet. He then jumped in the air jumping again, off what seemed like nothing but air, leaving fire in the area he bounced off of. He continued doing this two more times, making the guest heads turn upward to be focused on him. The fire coming from his feet wasn't hot to feel threatened of, but some people still watched nervously at the sight. He made it to the area right over the podium and flipped backwards landing and rolling around the microphone box hold, steam coming off of his feet. Looking at the head guy in charge he nodded and went to the mic. He was nervous as could be when all of the peoples eyes were on him, but he didn't show it. He probably wasn't who they were expecting to see, but soon his charming words and polite attitude wooed their opinions.

"I want to be the first one to thank everyone for attending this event. I'm sure that all the staff and my guardians feel the same way about all of you being here today. At first when my father died, I was a little skeptical about taking his place as head of the family, but with your support and the support of family and friends, I can now, one hundred percent, guarantee, that in my hands and the hands of the other guardians, the Vongola will be just as good in all the years that I'm alive, as it was when my father was."

The crowd all clapped at his words, for they could tell that he had really meant them. Their original opinion of him wavering.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. However, the face of the new Vongola, doesn't belong to be alone. Without further adieu, I'd like to invite all the family guardians to the stand."

With that, he waited as Joel and the rest of the gaudiness came on stage with him. Joel instantly disappeared from where he was, leaving nothing but a hint of light and a crackling noise where he once stood. Instantly he appeared behind Cain and placed a hand on his shoulder, to show his approval at the boys opening speech. Once Joel was on stage, Cain waited for the rest of the guardians to come on stage before continuing.

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."

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!"

"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.

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.

When the walls started exploding, spraying the crowd with fragments of cement and plaster, Fredrick did what came naturally: he protected the person closest to him, pushing them to the ground and shielding them with his body. Unfortunately for him, no good deed seems to go unpunished.

A particularly large chunk of cement smashed Fredrick in the lower back, but it didn't faze him. Serlina managed to throw up a shield of Rain flames at the last second, protecting Fredrick and those around him from the heavy debris.

When the dust settled, Fredrick looked down at who he managed to save with a smile. "I gotcha," he said, grinning goofily, his eyes squinched in effort.

He didn't expect to get punched in the face.

"Unhand me, cretin!" Came a familiar voice, though Fredrick couldn't immediately identify it. Reeling backwards, he fell onto his side, holding his mouth with his hands, countenance overtaken by a look of unadulterated shock, which gave way to fear as he realized who he'd so selflessly pushed to the ground.

It was the kid from before. The one who'd called him out of his name... again. Fred had noticed the kid lagging behind him like a stalker as he slowly made his way towards the front of the crowd earlier in the presentation. On several occasions, he attempted to lose him by taking a quick turn or picking up the pace, but sure enough the kid would always be a person or two away from him. Serlina would point him out. For a stalker, he was pretty bad at being inconspicuous, all things considered.

Multiple explosions rang out from the direction of the stage, shaking the very ground itself. A massive cloud of smoke billowed up around the area surrounding the stage, veiling it and a few of his friends in an inky opaque gloom. More debris showered the area as strange red balls hurdled about, bouncing off walls, crashing into chairs, and smashing out the overhead lighting.

"Ow!" Fredrick whined, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. He levelled his gaze upon the boy before him. "What'd you do that for?!"

The boy silently picked himself up, completely ignoring Fredrick's question in lieu of dusting himself off. He then fixed his collar with both hands.

For Fred, it was like deja vu. "Uh... sorry... again," he muttered, sighing.

"It's okay," the kid said, his tone soft and amiable—much to Fredrick's surprise. The boy's entire demeanor had changed. When before he was a petty brat, he now seemed more innocent and unassuming.

"Wha?!"

"I said: it's okay. Or, rather, it will be." The kid took a step closer to Fredrick, offering him his hand. "Hi, my name is Alastor. Alastor Rizzo, but you can call me Al." The kid took a quick look around the room, taking in the destruction. "I don't know what's happening, but we should get out of here, right?"

Fredrick had yet to accept the kid's hand, electing to stand on his own. Something about this kid seemed off to him.

"Fred! Duck!" Serlina shouted in his mind. Fred ducked just in time to dodge an inflamed Palla that hurtled overhead, smashing into a nearby table before bouncing away.

"Come on!" The kid Alastor prompted, his voice becoming more high-pitched, his demeanor overly innocent. He was still holding out his hand, wanting Fredrick to grab it. "Please!" The kid looked away, his posture becoming submissive. "I'm scared! I-I... I just want my mommy..."

.... . .

Fredrick felt like a fool. Worse than a fool. He felt like a bully. First he bumped into this poor kid, and then he bowled him over, and now the lad was begging for his help. The Vongola Rain guardian wilted visibly. How could he ever have thought twice about this innocent child? The boy just wanted some help!

"I'm so sorry," Fred said, his voice going up an octave. He grabbed the kid's outstretched hand with his own. "It'll be okay. Let's get out of here, and then we can find your parents, okay?"

Alastor nodded, still refusing to meet Fredrick's eyes. "Okay," he muttered meekly.

"Serlina!" Fredrick's faerie box weapon heeded his call, zipping to appear beside his face.
"Ready to fight?" She asked earnestly.
"No... uh, no. Not yet," he stammered, looking to her. "First we have to get this kid out of here. His name is Alastor and he needs our help!"

Unbeknownst to Fredrick, a malicious smirk had wormed its way onto the boy Alastor's face.

"Isn't that right, Alastor?" Fredrick asked, turning back to his youthful charge.

Alastor didn't respond, his head still bowed, the top half of his face shrouded in shadow.

"Al? Are you okay? Don't be scar—"

With one violent tug, Alastor pulled Fredrick towards him, nearly causing the taller boy to lose his balance. Taking advantage of Fredrick's tumultuous position, Alastor loosened his grip on his enemy's hand, choosing instead to close his fingers in around the Rain guardian's ring finger—around the Vongola Rain ring itself. With a motion as slick as an eel, Alastor tugged once again, slipping the ring off Fredrick's finger.

Almost.

Fredrick regained his balance much quicker than Alastor expected, snatching his hand away from the boy—ring and all.

"Tch." Alastor hopped backwards a couple of steps, taking in the fact that his ploy had failed. "You stupid asshole," he said, his words dripping with contempt, a finger pointed accusatorially at Fredrick. "I can't believe they let someone so gullible be a ring bearer! You don't deserve it!" Alastor struck a pose, his leading leg somewhat bent at the knee. "I know you must suffer from traumatic dumbass syndrome," he began hushedly, speaking more to himself than to Fredrick. He eyed his knee while he spoke, making a fist with his right hand. "So I'll make this as simple as I can..."

With a swift vertical stabbing motion, Alastor brought his closed fist straight down upon his own knee—like a judge pounding a gavel. To Fredrick, it seemed as if the boy were gripping a stick or rod of some sort, though there had been nothing in his hand a moment ago. Despite all of the commotion surrounding them, an eerie silence settled over the immediate area, muffling all other sounds.

A tingling sensation flared at the point where Alastor's fist contacted his knee, surging throughout his body like a storm. It was a moment before the boy overcame the rapturous feeling, taking a moment to calm himself.

Three... two... one...

"Come," he uttered, his eyes screwed shut, face contorted in extreme concentration. "Hour Hand."

Alastor began to pull his fist upward away from his knee, his movements lacking haste. What followed his clenched fist was not nothingness, however, but a gunmetal-silver machete-like blade no shorter than the length of two daggers. The boy pulled the weapon from his own knee as cleanly as a master chef would a blade from a knife block. When he was finished, there was no trace of damage or discoloration anywhere around where he'd summoned the weapon, as if he'd called it from out of thin air.

The boy crouched in an obviously practiced stance, holding the blade parallel to the floor, its lengthwise edge staring Fredrick dead in the face. A soft translucent blackness emanated from the weapon, captivating the Rain guardian. Within it were tiny lights and various other things that twinkled and popped to some unknown rhythm. Fredrick couldn't help but think of whole galaxies being born, filling the universe with their light.

Of planets dying, their luminescence snuffed out forever.

The kid Alastor spoke his next words very very slowly: "Hand over the ring or die."

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.

As Sora glided around on his skateboard assisting the escape of the Vongola attendees, he looked over and saw a painful sight. It was Cain, the Vongola Head, lying unconscious on the floor after what looked like a gruesome beating. Sora didn't even have to think to know who he fought, "Alastor" he said as he sighed. 'He didn't have to do all that, did he?' he thought.

He also saw that younger Alastor poke his tongue out and give 'the finger' to the Fredrick, the Vongola of Rain. That little brat ended up getting a ring before me? Little bratty as- thief.' In the past, younger Alastor made it a habit to take things, specifically for Sora his skateboard. He was never forgiven for the time he broke it.

Not far off from the Alastor's was Miyamoto, she was in an angered state within striking range of him. 'I can already see where this is going.'

"HAND IT OVER!" She yelled while he blatantly ignored her.

Sora cringed hearing her yell at Alastor while Alastor didn't even acknowledge her presence. 'She has no idea what she's getting into.' Sora pictured Miyamoto with her legs broken and backwards while her arms being left out of place, lying on the ground with both Alastor's merely chuckling at the sight. 'I'd prefer her not to end up like broken legs over here,' Sora thought, 'I guess I'll intervene, for her sake.'

"Hi-ho, Silver! Away!" he yelled like an old school western cowboy on his skateboard. He jetted off in the direction towards Miyamoto and Alastor. He hand both of his hands formed like mini-handguns, and jumped up off the ground with his skateboard over Miyamoto. While upside down in midair, he shot storm flamed bolts around her entire body as warning shots instead of hitting her directly. He landed in between the Alastor's and Miyamoto, pointed his left palm open as if he was signaling her to stop at Miyamoto and produced 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.

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

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!!!!"