Sora Rizzo's Story

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

"Hi-ho, Silver! Away!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I get to kill one."

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

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

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

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

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

The Asteroid guardian disappeared without a trace.

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

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

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

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

Again, Donovan disappeared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I tried doing this the nice way Miyamoto."

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

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

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

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

"What is it that you want from us?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"WRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!"

---

---

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

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

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

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

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

"I tried doing this the nice way Miyamoto."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"WRRRYYYYYYYY!!!!"

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

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

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

"UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

To evolve.

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

They were just—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like that day.

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

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

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

And then someone called his name.



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Trev."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eri made her way through the debris, walking towards where the most people had congregated in, her eyes locked onto the form of Namine enveloped in dark flames.

"Keiko, No!" Fredrick yelled, running up behind her and throwing his arms around her shoulders. He interlocked his wrists in an attempted bear hug, injecting into his friend whatever remained of his quickly diminishing stores of Rain flame with the hope that the flame's tranquility attribute would pacify her. "Please, Stop it Keiko! You're hurting him!"

Rage-filled and mindless, Keiko tried to swipe at Fredrick behind her, roaring all the while. She managed to pull Fredrick from her back and slammed him into the ground. Right before she was about to deliver a possibly devastating punch.

"KEIKO!" Eri yelled as she reached in time to see this, sounding stern.

Keiko instantly stopped, staring at Eri. Slowly her wildness began to subside and her eyes began to recognize her surroundings properly. Eri walked towards her.

"E...Eri? But I thought..." Keiko began, walking over to Eri only to get a very loud slap across the face. Keiko stepped back, shocked by the blow.

"What are you doing? I thought you were better than this, self-proclaimed Champion." Eri reprimanded her, "Aren't you supposed to protect us? You're attacking the Vongola instead."

"Eri... I... ya were dead." Keiko said quietly, rubbing her stinging cheek.

"Nonsense Keiko." Eri said, walking over with her fist raised. "Who was the one who told me not to lose until she could beat me?"

"Dammit Ri-chan." Keiko fist-bumped Eri, her trademark smirk returning to her lips. "Ya know I can defeatcha wheneva I wanna."

The dynamic duo turned to face their adversaries. "That'll have to wait for another day, right now, we have guests to attend to."

Keiko's eyes seemed to come alive yet again, her confidence stronger than ever. She stared as Eri ran off towards Nami's direction. Eri had always been the only one who could quell her rage, this time was no different. Seeing that she was safe and sound was enough to fuel Keiko with the strength of a million Suns... and that, was enough. That in mind, she faced Sora and the suited man.

"I really think ya should hand ovah those rings ya took from us."

It was not a suggestion. It was a demand.

"Nami!" Eri called out, staring at the crumpled figure and then at the other three around, two young boys and a girl, two of which Nami had given her CDs to. "I just want to take her away."

As Eri knelt down to pick Nami up, she could feel bones shifting. 'She broke her bones?!'

"MEDIC TEAM, we need temporary healing, stat!" Eri called out, with the result of two Vongolas rushing to their aid. The two quickly worked on Nami, temporary healing her for safe transportation before she could be properly healed.

"You did that to a person who was kind to you." Eri spoke to the three. "Whatever your motives are, people like you don't mean well."

Eri stared at Flandre, something beginning to surface underneath her calm, icy eyes as she spoke, "I'm afraid that ring is the property of the Vongola. I'm going to have to take it back."

"What's wrong, Shmautz?" Flandre asked as he sighed, "Didn't you get a ring?" she sneered at him. She spun around on her working foot giggling, gloating over her victory in her battle scars and how unusual moving around with the shield as a wheel was. She looked over toward Sora, curious as to if he'd gotten the ring or not. His opponent, the Sun one, was bashing wildly at seemingly nothing. Sora's illusions, of course. He knew how to trick his enemies without tricking his allies, so the scene may have been dreadful for the Vongolas, but for the Rizzos it looked very silly. Nobody could contain her anger, not even her allies. Flandre was a bit curious as to what Sora could have shown her that would enrage a person so much.

Although, Flandre's sneer turned into a frown as the Cloud guardian was able to successfully bring her back to her senses. Cloud was the Sky equivalent of Rizzo's Dark Matter flame, yet Flandre didn't think of her as an equivalent. This one seemed to be on rather friendly terms with the Sun one. Their exchange somehow made Flandre irritated, yet she didn't quite understand why. Flandre did recall hearing in their briefing about the exact nature of the relationship between the Sun and Cloud guardians, or at least what was to become of it. Flandre's expression about it was difficult to describe, but she had an idea of its color, gross aquamarine. Some sort of mix between hateful green and gloomy blue.

"Nami!" the Cloud guardian called out in concern for her fellow guardian. Flandre had nearly forgotten all about her already, yet she'd been hovering over her the whole time like a cat over a dead mouse. She backed off as the Cloud one approached. "I just want to take her away." Flandre made no objection. Flandre had gotten her ring and crushed her, she had no further use for a broken toy. Flandre turned her attention back to her ring, playing around with her mechanical fingers, bending and straightening them, simply to flaunt the ring of which stood out against the black metal.

The Cloud one spoke directly to the three. "You did that to a person who was kind to you." Flandre visibly ignored her, purposely telling her that she didn't care. Flandre had little sense of morality. "Whatever your motives are, people like you don't mean well."

Flandre brought her palm out to face the damaged lighted ceiling. "I'm afraid that ring is the property of the Vongola. I'm going to have to take it back." Flandre looked at her with a visibly offended look on her face. "No, it's mine," she spat defiantly, rolling slowly toward her "And I'm not going to take orders from the dog of the Vongola!" Stood face to face with the Cloud Guardian (or rather, looked down at her) and kicked her with her broken foot, knocking her over. Driving right over her without harming her, she went directly for the sword she left on the ground, stopping at the wall and using it as a support to grab it.

The Vongola, however, were mobilizing at an alarming rate. Henchmen were piling around each exit, armed with primitive firearms and box weapons. The Rizzo could have easily dispatched of them all, but more would come and get in their way of getting the rings. These adults were probably more experienced than the young guardians, so fighting them would only make more noise, which Alastor didn't want. Flandre cared little for that, of course, but she had her ring anyway so she was satisfied. Groups of Vongola hitmen seemed to be preparing to apprehend each of the Rizzos. She herself saw a few going for her, pistols and some sort of lightning net weapon in hands and lightning foxes to their sides. Flandre quickly drove back to her allies, Donovan and Trevor, as the began to open fire on her. Her Colorwheel protected her from some of the fire. She asked them "Is it time to leave yet?"

Trevor looked on at the girl as she approached. He recognized her instantly. She was Murasaki Eri, the Vongola's Cloud guardian, and wielder of the Cloud ring. She was tall, with silvery-grey hair and an unflinchingly stubborn expression on her face, her eyes darting between the three Rizzo and the fallen Storm Vongola in a rhythmic fashion. When she did speak, he simply absorbed her words, meeting her eyes with his own. Thanks to his makeshift mask, nothing but his eyes were exposed anyway, so she certainly couldn't make out any of his facial features. Trevor looked away from the girl, his eyes landing on Donovan and Flandre. If they'd noticed the Vongola girl approaching, they certainly didn't act like it. Even when she spoke, they still seemed to ignored her.

"What's wrong, Schmautz?" Flandre asked as he sighed, "Didn't you get a ring?" she sneered at him.

"Pfft," Donovan scoffed, turning up his nose. "I can get my guy's ring whenever I want." He folded his arms, looking down as the Vongola paramedics timidly removed Nami from his presence. It was almost as if he were pouting. "I was just checking out his speed," he half-way mumbled. "They say he's the fastest Vongola. Ever." He looked back at Flandre, but didn't meet her eyes, instead taking a quick moment to glance at the metalwork of her damaged leg. "You wouldn't understand true speed anyway. Plus," he continued, motioning with a finger towards Flandre's leg, a devious smile touching his lips, "I'm not in the business of breaking my ass getting pushed around by some primitive flame."

It was Flandre who responded to the Cloud guardian first. Her reaction was predictable. Trevor's eyes followed the Cloud guardian's body all the way to the floor. For a moment, he thought Flandre would continue her assault by smashing the Vongola into the ground with her shield, like she did Tempest, but she seemed to have lost interest with the girl, choosing instead to simply roll away. Trevor watched her go.

At the same time, Miku and Hildegarde sauntered onto the scene like twin divas of some otherworldly fashion show. They came to rest on the other side of Eri, who was still picking herself up off the floor. Hildegarde stared down at the girl, and, after a moment, seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.

"Yep," she began, dropping a piece of hard candy from one hand into the other. "I think I'll just blow her away." She glanced over at Miku. "We can play rock-paper-scissors for the ring later, okay?"

Elizabeth realizing from Hildegarde's remark saw that further fighting from this point was not going to happen. "Fine," she replied while not understanding how a simple game could determine their sole mission of obtaining the ring. She sheathed her katana and look slightly displeased that her fight was not going to continue.

Donovan flinched back at that unexpected promise of violence. "Uh, Garda," he said, scratching the side of his face, a look of besotting urgency evident in his eyes. "I think you've blown up enough stuff. Did you notice Alas—"

Hildegarde ignored Donovan entirely, choosing instead to look over at Miku, her voice taking on a slight tint of annoyance as she interrupted the Asteroid guardian. "We can get the ring off its body when I'm done. Deal?" A bullet whizzed by her head, but she didn't seem to care. "No way Flandre gets a ring and I don't!"

That's when Flandre returned, and brought with her a hail of gunfire. Fortunately for everyone else, she had thrown up her Colorwheel to protect herself, blocking a majority of the deluge. The other three Rizzos moved to stand behind her in an unhurried fashion, as if she had an umbrella and it'd just started drizzling. Though initially surprising, the metallic ping ping ping of ricocheting bullets had little impact on Trevor. If anything, the sound made him more comfortable. He felt a little like he was in his bulletproof C-Frame, hugged on all sides by the protective breathable superconducting nanochemical that constituted the inside of the suit.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a short breath before opening them again. Trevor swept his gaze over the scene with an unnatural calm—considering he and his friends were being shot at. He took no longer than a second to analyze his surroundings, noting several things right off the bat. For one, the Vongola were attempting to mount a counter offensive, that much was obvious. The hustling and bustling of dark suits and black glasses began to permeate the area, their old-world primer-striking "handguns" at the ready. Then there were the Vongola guardians themselves. One was virtually floored right before him. Two others were floored over by the Alastors. The others seemed to be in one for of disarray or another, even with their own forces mustering behind them.

And that's when someone caught the boy's eye.

"Is it time to leave yet?" Flandre asked the group.

"Not until I get what's mine," Hildegarde answered, flicking a piece of candy into the air over Eri. It was as if she were totally oblivious to the armed thugs attacking them. The candy ignited instantly, bursting into highly volatile Quasar flames, but before it could detonate, Trevor snatched it out of the air with his bare hand and a short burst of Moon flames, nearly cancelling Flandre's flames in the process.

"Hey!"

Instead of responding verbally, Trevor pointed at something off behind her. Hildegarde's face scrunched up in anger, but Miku placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, her voice almost as chilling as her touch. "Alastor is here. We must join him." And then she disappeared in a streak of frosty blue.

Hildegarde turned as well. "Tch," was all she said before taking to the air. Bullets began to impact her the moment she left the protection of Flandre's Colorwheel, but the metal slugs detonated into a fine mist as they came into contact with her body. "You're gonna have to try a whole helluva lot harder than that, you primates!" she bellowed, cackling as she streaked through the air like a firework.

Trevor watched her go, his face expressionless.

"Welp, I guess that's our cue," Donovan grumbled, placing his hand on Trevor's shoulder. In the next moment, they, too, disappeared in a maroon haze.

Clear on the other side of the auditorium, the elder Alastor deigned to acknowledge, however briefly, the Vongola that so cavalierly made demands of him. He glared at her briefly, sizing the girl up in one look. A visceral being. Hot-headed. Arrogant. Overconfident. Unable to comprehend that which is greater than herself. Instead of issuing a harsh riposte, the elder Alastor straightened his tie with a few sharp motions, using both his hands. Simultaneously, the younger Alastor straightened his collar in a similar fashion. At first glance, you might mistake them for twins... of a kind.

Seeing the others flock towards Alastor, Sora hopped on his skateboard and said, "Hasta La Vista, Baby!" as it if were his premiere lines in a movie and begun skating to Alastor's position.

The elder Alastor took Sora as a prompt for movement. "Lightspeed," he muttered. An instant later, he vanished without a trace. The younger Alastor looked down at Fredrick with a look of utter disgust before he vanished as well, muttering under his breath. Both the elder and the younger Alastor appeared on either side of their "current" counterpart, who, until then, had been standing several dozen meters away, next to the Hour Hand box weapon.

This current Alastor looked to be the mathematical average of the two who stood at his sides. Older than his younger counterpart, but younger than his elder counterpart. The trio had hard amber-red eyes, reminiscent of distant supernova. Unlike the preppy straight cut hair of the younger boy or the gelled spiky hairdo of the elder man, the one standing between them had short stringy black hair that fell around his ears and forehead like the frayed edges of some dark fabric. He had a toned muscular physique, though it was obvious that strength was not his forte. Instead of a suit and tie, he wore his trademark jeans and hooded jacket, all black, with fur trimming decorating the edges of the cuffs and cowl. His index and middle fingers were each adorned with a plain silvery ring that glowed softly in the room's hospital-like fluorescent lighting.

This current Alastor turned to his elder counterpart, his face scrunched into a yawn. After a moment, he held out his hand. The elder Alastor reciprocated the motion, holding his clenched fist above his counterpart's open palm and relinquishing the Vongola Sky and Rain rings. The current Alastor eyed the rings before clenching his own fist, a soft grin touching his lips. He looked back up at his counterpart. Their eyes met.

"Perfect," he said, flipping his fist so that his knuckles faced the ceiling.

The elder Alastor mimicked the motion. Their fists were separated laterally by only a few inches. "The Rizzo... the me of this timeline..." The elder cocked his head slightly, his expression impenetrable. "You're all so fascinating."

"Thanks." Like old childhood friends, the two Alastors bumped fists. Almost immediately, the elder of the two combusted into pitch black Space flames before ceasing to exist altogether. The remaining Alastor breathed in deeply, as if he'd just been invigorated. In the background, the Vongola were amassing, but Alastor paid them no mind, instead turning now to face his younger self. It was then that the other Rizzo began to appear beside the duo. First Miku, who streaked across the ground as if skating on ice. Then came Hildegarde, rocketing through the sky like a madwoman. Next was Sora, who, after skidding to a halt, looked daggers at a few of the Vongola thugs, put his balled fist at his chest, bowed slightly and said, "I'll be back!" with a deep Austrian accent, like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Their arrivals were followed closely by the appearance of Donovan, Trevor, and then Flandre, whose massive Colorwheel seemed to draw a majority of the Vongola's gunfire.

Alastor held out his fist to his younger counterpart, but his eyes were on his guardians. "How'd we do?" His voice was deeper than one would expect for someone of his size and stature. In tone and tenor, it rested somewhere between the suave confidence and maturity of his elder self and the impatient excitement of his younger self.

While the others spoke, the Alastor 's younger counterpart simply stared at the floor, glowering. After a moment, he seemed to resolve some internal conflict, his frown inverting into a menacing sneer. He glanced up at at others briefly before reaching down and snatching the Hour Hand box weapon out of the ground. Not wasting a second, he pivoted on his heel and began running full tilt. The machete-like weapon he held above his head bobbed and weaved in tandem with his steps, his expression vivid evidence of his willful intent to murder.

"I'm not done yet!" He bellowed, eyes filled with rage. His gaze fell upon Fredrick, the de-ringed Vongola Rain guardian who was at least a dozen meters away as he ran. After successfully injecting his Rain flame into his compatriot, Fredrick had taken a few steps back from the others in an attempt to distance himself from the fighting. He was beginning to regret that. "YOU HEAR ME?!" The Vongola hitmen opened fire on the kid, but every time he seemed to recoil from the impact of a gunshot, he disappeared and reappeared slightly further along in his running path. For his part, Fredrick's flinch was painfully noticeable. He immediately putting his hands up in the traditional pose of surrender, his countenance a confused mess of fear and panic at being singled out.

He could barely utter a delayed response. "M-m-me?!"

Several of the hitmen tried to physically block the boy's path by brandishing box weapons of some type or another, but their primitive molds were easily predictable, allowing the young Alastor to dodge around them. Others tried to grab him, but their hands and arms grasped at nothingness as he continued to invoke his box weapon's ability. When he came within range of his target, the boy leapt like a mighty Spartan, lower back concave, stomach poked out, both hands gripping the box weapon in an overhead reverse grip, blade pointing towards the ceiling.

"BASTAR—!"

The younger Alastor froze mid-jump, as if someone had hit the pause button on his reality. The pointed tip of the serrated Hour Hand blade weapon had become suspended a mere centimeters from Fredrick's face. With a yelp, the young Alastor was yanked backwards as if the back of his shirt'd been caught in a fishing line that someone was rapidly reeling in. He flew across the room like a speeding bullet before suddenly bursting into jet-black flames.

A couple of meters behind the boy, the current Alastor was holding out his fist, knuckles facing his inflamed younger counterpart. The mass of black flame that hurdled towards the Rizzo boss dispersed into nothingness as it grew nearer until it disappeared entirely. Again, Alastor breathed in deeply, eyes closed, head tilted backwards, as if he'd just been invigorated by some mystical force.

"Good," he said, sighing in content. "Good good." Alastor seemed to glow slightly after reabsorbing his two counterparts, though the effect faded a few moments later.

The Vongola forces suddenly coalesced around the Rizzo, encircling them entirely, their various weapons brought to bear.

DON'T MOVE!" The nearest hitman commanded. He was holding some sort of Rod that crackled and sparked with green Lightning flames, its business end pointed at Alastor. "GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!"

Hildegarde growled audibly, taking a step forward, candies waltzing ominously in the palm of her hand, but Alastor held out his arm, blocking her way.

"Don. Sora." He said their names as calmly as one would on a casual stroll through the park, as if they weren't about to get shot at from all directions. "Get ready." Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly, lips pursed. "We're leaving."

Perhaps the hitman was annoyed with Alastor's tone, or the way the Space guardian regarded him as one would any insignificant insect, but the hitman opened fire with his box weapon, arcs of green lightning smashing into the Rizzo group. Taking that as their cue, the other hitmen opened fire as well. Bullets and flame attacks rained down upon the Rizzo from all sides with such an overwhelming intensity that the Vongola forces lost sight of the Rizzo amidst all the flashy weapon effects.

After several dozen seconds of sustained fire, one of the Vongola shouted "HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Immediately, the others ceased their attacks. As the smoke and dust kicked up by their attacks began to clear, it became evident that they'd reduced the enemy infiltrators to ashes. Certainly no family, not even the Vongola's greatest enemies of this time, could survive a sustained attack from so many people. Feeling confident in their work, some of the Vongola hitmen even lowered their smoking weapons.

And then the smoke cleared completely, the results of their combined attack becoming eminently visible. A few hitmen gasped audibly.

The Rizzo were surrounded in a hollow, translucent sphere of whiteness, but that wasn't the surprising part. Each and everyone one of their bullets was suspended in the air outside of this sphere, faint concentric rings of force emanating from the various points of contact. There had to be hundreds of bullets just floating there, idle, as if they hadn't been speeding at several hundred meters per second just a moment or two earlier.

"A barrier?!" One of them asked rhetorically, his tone one of incredulity.

From behind the translucent sphere, Alastor wagged his finger like a parent admonishing a naughty child.

"A White Hole," he said, correcting the man. And then he smirked. "Now bow."

Suddenly, the bullets began to wag and shake, oscillating like the many tails of some impatient dog until, finally, they detonated outwards in a blinding flash of yellow and white, each newly-energized deadly projectile reversing its trajectory with twice the initial speed. The resulting BOOM! was deafening as molten metal streaked across the room like some firework finale. Those few hitmen that were quick enough to duck managed to escape a majority of the deluge, but the others were not so lucky. The projectiles literally tore them to shreds in a blood bath that was sticky, messy, and all over the place.

By the end, there was no one left standing, though there were quite a few left prone, their hands protecting their heads, screaming in shock and pain.

One such person was Fredrick, who'd dived to the ground immediately. Once the high-pitched shriek of bullets flying overhead died down, he gathered the courage to look up at where the enemy attackers were standing. He gasped in shock.

They were gone. Disappeared, with nearly half of the precious Vongola family rings. The space they previously vacated was utterly vacant.

Fredrick tentatively got to his feet, looking around. There were various Vongola hitmen laid out on the floor, clutching their sides or their faces, some of them screaming... but something was off about this scene.

There was no blood. None. Anywhere. There were no shreds of former people to be found. And, after looking everyone over, nobody seemed at all injured, either. Even the surrounding walls, which should have just taken a hell of a beating from that attack, were in the same condition they were a few minutes ago. It was as if the bullet storm had never happened.

Fredrick scratched the back of his head, thoroughly puzzled. Today just wasn't his day.

“The fans will love your new set Tempest! You’re like a whole new girl!” exclaimed Nami’s manager, “How’d you make those special effects?”

“Trade secret. Just a little thing I picked up in my meantime,” replied Nami.

‘Bzzzt, Bzzzt’ Nami’s phone buzzed.

”You have one unheard voicemail. Now playing.”

“Hey Nami, we’re meeting up at my place for some training and about the missing rings. I’ll need you here soon,” said Joel. *click*

“Eh, so soon? I have so much stuff to do though,” complained Nami.

She currently was in a limousine on her way to the Namimori stadium. Her ‘Return of Tempest’ concert was tonight and she will have to put on a spectacular show. The miraculous recovery of their idol from the ‘car accident’ along with the missed concerts caused her fame to skyrocket. CD’s were sold out, exclusive accessories were bought, and the fans praying for her recovery finally came into fruition. She couldn’t disappoint them after all they've done.

‘Bzzzt, Bzzzt’ was the ringing sound produced from calling Joel. “I’m sorry, you have reached the voice mail of ‘Joel’,” His unique but manly voice stood out to Nami, ”That player,”. “Please leave a voice mail after the tone *beep*”

“Hey Joel, yeah about that meeting up. I’ll be a little late….maybe even a couple a days. Sorry, but I have a few concerts. Feel free to call me back. Ciao!”

The crowds were packed outside of the stadium. “Wow, lines have never been this long.” Even those with tickets were still at a standstill in line just to get in. “Limousine! Is that TEMPEST?!” one deranged fan yelled. “I love you Tempest!” “Come over here” “Sign my shirt!” “Marry me!” the fans started to yell.

The look on Nami’s face showed her relief of not having to walk through the fans. “Hehe...glad to have a loving fan base.” Her limousine pulled up through the back entrance. She went through her usual process, got dressed up in her stage costume, vocal practices in the back, hairdressers, everything. “You guys ready?” she asked her band known as the Blast of Tempest. “Of course Nami,” one of the guitarist replied. “Lets go guys!”

They were directly under the stage all in position on a circular platform. She took a deep breath, “It’s showtime!’





As Hildegarde entered Alastor’s section of the Rizzo headquarters, her eyes were immediately drawn past the Spartan bedding and the large box-like device on the floor—what people of this time called a “TV”—to the wall on her left. The wall itself was painted white, like the rest of the building, with splotches of dirt and grime occurring every here or there; however, as she got closer, Hildegarde noticed lines and lines of inky black writing. Squinting, she recognized the scribbles instantly.

Math. More specifically, differential calculus in the form of statistics.

Facing the wall, with a marker in his hand, was Alastor, furiously scribbling, adding more equations and calculations and numbers to the painted surface. Behind him stood the Star guardian, Sora, and it seemed as if the two were in the middle of a conversation..

“So, I didn’t get the ring. Whatever. So now what? What’s the next move? I can’t just sit around here waiting.”

Alastor didn’t respond for an entire minute, leaving the room in silence, save for the squeak of his marker as it streaked across the wall. Hildegarde took the opportunity to get closer to Alastor and his work, leaning forward towards the wall in silent admiration of what was written atop it.

“Waiting is what you will do. You’re on standby for now.” Alastor stopped writing, taking a step back to admire his work. Hildegarde stood beside him, nodding in approval… until she spotted something.

“Uh, I think you forgot to flip the sign there, Al,” she said, pointing at the wall. Alastor frowned slightly, his eyes darting to where she pointed. After a moment, he pinched his nose with his fingers, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Thanks,” he responded, moving back to where Hildegarde indicated his mistake. After a few seconds, Alastor spoke again, finishing his conversation with Sora. “Let the other Rizzo handle the remaining rings, Sora.”

“I guess,” he replied unamused, “I’m just bored. Maybe I’ll go around the city for some fun.”

“Don’t screw up the timeline,” Hildegarde joked, her deep accented drawl adding flavor to her words. She moved to hide her smirk behind the back of her hand as she continued. “You don’t want to end up as your own grandfather or anything. That’d suck.”

“Tch, whatever Garda. You’re more likely to mess up the timeline than me. Nice bank robbery, should’ve called me tag along” he said chuckling as he walked off.

“I don’t get it,” came a monotonous voice by the room’s entrance. It was Trevor, who’d materialized in his typical lack-of-a-presence ninja-esque fashion. “How do you become your own grandfather?”

“Well you see Trevor,” Sora began, “when a man and woman like each other very much. They do this really fun thing called—”

“Cough!” Hildegarde said out loud, rather than actually coughing. She held up her hand like a referee. Alastor chuckled softly, but didn’t otherwise respond, choosing instead to keep scribbling on the wall. Hildegarde turned, facing Trevor, casually fanning her face with her hand. “Well aren’t you a lil’ ninja. What’s up?”

Trevor stepped into the room, holding the disk he received from the Tempest in his hands. “I’ve been looking at this chaotic flame we saw back at the Vongola facility.” He looked up at Alastor, who was still facing the wall, scribbling. “I’ve run it through all of the C-Frame’s internal databases, as well as through the Vongola VPN, but there’s nothing on it. Absolutely nothing, as if it’d never occurred before.” He looked over at Hildegarde, and then at Sora. “I think we should research it.”

Alastor stepped back from the wall once again, admiring his new work. “No,” he said, though his tone was not stern. “Nami does not have a ring; hence, she’s not on our radar.”

“But—”

“Our resources’re already limited, Trev,” Hildegarde chimed in. “Can’t spare more people.”

Sora put his hand on Trevor’s head like an older brother, “I’ll check it out Trev. You like this chick huh? Tempest right?”

Trevor looked up at Sora, his expression as impenetrable as his tone. “She’s nice.”

Sora swiped the CD from Trevor’s hands. “She’s pretty too, but definitely not my type for sure. Where will she be at?” Trevor extended his hand, making a couple of grabbing motions. Sora handed the CD back to him.

“She’s about to give a concert in a little while at Namimori stadium.” Trevor looked over at Hildegarde briefly before looking back to Sora, tilting his head slightly to the side. “I can navigate you.”




Moving through the sky almost as if a surfer riding the winds, Sora was on his way through Namimori heading towards Tempest’s concert. After using his flame fueled skateboard to jet through the sky, Sora finally arrived at the Namimori stadium. “So Tempest must really be a big thing during this time huh? I’m kind of shocked.” Sora began making his way to the entrance.

“Hey! No cutting in line bub,” one man exclaimed.

Sora looked him directly in the eye, “I’ll let you try that again.”

“Hehe, please sir continue,” the man said.

This process of questioning Sora, eye contact, and the new found kindness produced by the star flamed allowed him to quickly move to the front of the line.

“Ticket sir,” the bouncer asked.

He merely tapped the man shoulder and said, “I gave it to you already.”

“You’re right. Go ahead,” the man smiled as he allowed him to go on.

“Too easy,” Sora said to himself. “Hmm...I don’t want any bad seats. If I’m investigating Tempest, I might as well get close seat. Heh, V.I.P. for free!”

He made his way to the front and gave some unlucky fan to ‘willingly’ give up his seat to go elsewhere. He stood roughly in the second row from the stage which was literally the best seats in the house. The performer Tempest would only be a few feet away.

“I’ve never seen a real concert before, hopefully she won’t disappoint,” he said while meaning on some ‘free’ popcorn which was another ‘kind donation.’

“Are you all ready for a show?!” announced a feminine voice from the speakers spread across the stadium.

“Yeah!!!!!!!!!” cried out the crowd like an army of angered Spartans.

“Why are they so loud?” Sora exclaimed to himself out loud, “can’t they just listen?”

The feminine announcer counted down, “3, 2, 1,” all of the lights focused on the stage while the remaining areas of the stadium stood in darkness. No one was on stage at this moment. Suddenly, POW, miniature fireworks exploded and the title ‘Return of Tempest’ popped up on the screen. A full band and the star herself Tempest arose from a circular platform from the ground all in overly dramatic poses standing still as if time stopped.

The band immediately starting playing an upbeat song called ‘Dance, Dance, Tempest’ from her new album. “Eh, it’s catchy,” Sora said to himself slightly amused bobbing his head. After about five minutes of her standard routine, Nami stopped dancing and said, “Alright band. Stop.”

The crowd grew silent seeing the celebrity herself stop in the middle of the performance. Nami merely stood there staring out into the crowd with a smirk on her face while the crowd murmured and wondered what happen. Nami extended her right hand out in front of her as if she were receiving some money from someone. A crimson flame appeared out of thin air floating in front of her palm. She threw the flame up in the air then it begun to expand like a flipped tornado completely enveloping Nami. ”It’s that flame!” Sora thought to himself while he stood in his chair.

After about five seconds, the crimson tornado spiral slowly moved from Nami and what was seen was a whole new girl. It was Nami with black hair, red eyes, and a mischievous smirk upon her face. “You ready to rock?!” Nami yelled out no longer having her gentle girl persona look. The new song played by the band was more a contemporary rock song with a heavy focus on the guitar. “Nice, I like this. Sounds like that Paramore thing I heard earlier,” Sora said.

They ran through a couple of songs in this style while the crowd themselves yelled ‘Raging Tempest’ as if she’s already accepted this name for this new look.

“Alright my fans, I have one more song before I head out. You've all supported me for the last week especially after I survived and recovered from the car accident. For this, I have a special treat for one lucky fan. You can spend a whole day with me personally tomorrow, but first you will have to come up on stage and dance with the band for the last song. Now who wants to do it?”

The crowd hollered “Pick Me” “Me Tempest!” “I love you!” and were all raising their hands screaming to grab her attention. “I’ll just sit in my seat and lay low, Sora thought to himself.

Nami glanced over the crowd, “Hmmm, I think I’ll pick,” she hesitated for a moment. ’He looks...familiar’ she thought. “I pick you!” she pointed directly at the man sitting in the second row seat.

“M-m-me?!” Sora said in shock.”Ah, no no no! I don’t dance and” before he could finish his speech the crowd combined with others literally lifted him up and extended him on the stage. Nami held her hand out, Sora took it and she pulled him into the limelight. He stood there, completely embarrassed.

“Say hello to the fans watching, we’re televised,” Nami said with a smile.

“H-hello television,” he said nervously. Some fans chuckled noticing he said hi to television rather than the people.

“Alright now! Let’s Rock!” the song started playing and Nami started dancing. “Cmon now, dance!” she said to Sora. He stood there slightly moving a little and merely standing there holding his skateboard. “Oh you skate huh, I know you can do something with it skaterboy. Hope it’s not for show.”

With this comment, especially since the show is televised, Sora’s confidence suddenly appeared. “Now I’ll show you a thing or two.” He hoped on his skateboard and begun a mix of kickflips, tricks, and jumping on and off his skateboard. Nami kept singing, but instead of dancing she extended her hands out towards Sora as if she were presenting him as a trophy. The crowd cheered and Sora continued to do it throughout the entire song.

Back at Alastor’s room in the Rizzo’s operational headquarters, Trevor was staring at the TV.

“Sora,” Trevor said, seemingly at random.

“What?” Hildegarde said, turning in tandem with Alastor away from the wall to gaze at the primitive picture box that sat on the floor.

“Sora is on it. On the TV.”

The three Rizzo watched as Sora did tricks and flipped around on his skateboard. Alastor shook his head, turning back to writing on the wall. Hildegarde pointed and laughed. Trevor simply stared.

The song ended and Nami held Sora’s hand, moved to the front of the stage along with her band members and all of them took a bow. “Cya next time guys!” Nami said with a wink and dragging Sora along with her backstage. She held his hand the entire time causing Sora to blush. She was much prettier up close and in person than her post image even with her sudden appearance change.

“So, what’s your name?” she said while still holding his hand.

“Sora,” he said hesitantly.

“Well, Sora. You look really familiar have we met before?” she asked.

“Well, Sora. You look really familiar have we met before?” she asked.
"She must recognize me from the headquarters!" he quickly thought of a reply, "Oh, nah couldn't be. I mean you have millions of fans, I'm sure I look like a couple of hundred of them."
With an expression that said 'I'm not convinced' Nami just said, "Eh alright, so about this date?"
"D-date?"
"Yes of course! You get a full day tomorrow with me, but..." she begun with a grin on her face, "Why not start a bit early? You can take me around Namimori!"
"Umm, sure?" he said with a perplexed gaze, "Just to let you know, I'm kind of new here so..."
"Then I'll take you around, come on hurry," she grabbed his arm and begun dragging him through backstage. "We can't let my manager see me because he'll drag me around. I've done more than enough with the concert today."
"Excuse me sir," the manager speaking to the guard at the exit, "Have you seen Tempest? I've been looking around. She completely went against protocol promising a day with a fan, plus we have three meetings coming up with sponsors in an hour."
"Crap! That's the only exit we can take. The alternative is through the front door, but there are fans still out there. Well there's always tomorrow" she said slightly disappointed with a frown.
He saw the excitement drain from her face, "I can fix this. Just follow my lead." Star flames begun to emit from his body as he approached the manager.
“Ah, Shirley and Michelle you both did splendid today. Your dancing exceeded even the most talented of dancers today, please keep it up. You both are heading out for the night?"
With a horrible high pitched girly voice impression, "Yea, we're both kind of exhausted, we'll be back for the next practice right Michelle?"
"R-r-right," Nami said.
"We'll just leave, come on girl!" Sora said grabbing Nami's arm.
As they walked out, it was still mid day, sunny, and warm outside. Namimori was flocking with people heading to their various destinations. After walking a fair distance away, Nami said, "What was that? I saw your producing flames! They weren't mist," she paused as she took a quick second to think.
"I might need to run. She'll probably figure out that I'm Rizzo and," his train of thoughts were interrupted by a loud, "That was amazing though! If you can do that, I can go anywhere! No paparazzi, fans, reporters," she continued on with her long list of possible followers. They continued to walk and talk through Namimori under the guise of just a normal man and woman.
"Must be tough being celebrity huh?"
"It has its ups and down," her eyes gleamed with the next line she spoke, "but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I've dreamed of being a singer as long as I can remember. The stage, crowd, performing, and singing are all so perfect.”
Sora could tell from the look on her face and how she spoke when she mentioned singing. She truly was passionate about her career. She went into further detail on the songs she wrote, her father, family, balancing being a Vongola, and on top of that being a high profile celebrity. She was pretty open about her thoughts which shocked Sora. Her celebrity personnel seemed as if she was more arrogant mixed with confidence like a pop diva; however, she genuinely was just a nice girl.
“Sora?” she said while he was caught within his thoughts about Nami as a person. “Sora! Listen!”

“W-what? Oh my bad Nami, What’s up?”

“We’re here silly, just look!”

The place Sora saw before him made his face shine. He has only seen pictures of places like this and dreamed of going since he was a kid; however, in the future they don’t exist anymore. “A skate park!” He dashed off with his skateboard and immediately hit the ramps filled with others. Nami smiled and waved at Sora while he yelled out, “Let me show you something real nice” he tapped his skateboard with his gloves and it begun to emit a sky flame boosting it from the back. His speed on his board nearly quadrupled his speed and he went from doing simple tricks to nearly impossible spins without the boost.

“Whooaaaa” a few kids said watching him. After finishing with the ramp, he jet himself around Nami and continued to circle her at a high speed.
“Hey, Sora stop that! You’re blowing my hair out!”
“Hehe, it’s your turn,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the board while he jumped off. The board as if it was on autopilot took Nami for a ride on the ramps. “Sora! SORA! Stop! I can’t skate!”
“Just put your arms out like you’re surfing!” he yelled from the ground while messing with his left hand glove, “A remote control skateboard was a great idea Trevor.”
“Yea!” Nami yelled out while she appeared as a professional on the flame fueled skateboard. People stood After taking her for a few turns for a couple of minutes, he let her off the board.
“That was so much fun!” she yelled right next to Sora then hugged him. Sora blushed which threw off his concentration of maintaining the illusion.
“Is that Tempest?!” It seemed as if the whole world at the skatepark stopped while people begun to stare. “Who is that guy she’s hugging?” “Quick get your camera phone?” “Tempest, sign my shirt!” The people in the general area started to flock their way.
“Ah my bad,” he took a second to think, “Nami, take my hand!” He pulled her close to him as he stepped on the board. He typed in a few configurations on his glove extending the board just slightly then they both jetted off through the skies.