Benji was half conscious and very dizzy as he forced his eyes open. He was on his back, and above him was a dirty ceiling, and the edge of the platform he had clearly fallen from. Then the face of a man, clearly annoyed, peered down at him, squinting and trying to see him. Judging by his gaze falling short of Benji's own eyes, he didn't think the man could really make him out. Then he heard Mac-o's voice.

“Say fella, that wouldn't be yer... associate would it? Cause if it is, I'll let ya stay at my--*hiccup*--mansion." There was a pause before he continued. "Beauterful aint it? And aaaall I want--*hiccup*--is few minutes alone wit yer friend... Ok? Good doin business wit ya." If Benji wasn't in so much pain he might of even laughed, but at the moment he could hardly move. "PRRRRRRRT." The unmistakable sound echoed through the tunnel, and Benji audibly sighed, sending a rush of stabbing pain through his ribs. There was footsteps, a long pause, then words.

"Wha...?" Half slurred words and a pause. "What the hell? P, Poison?" There was a clatter, then a roar of anger and disbelief. Benji jumped slightly, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain of the movement sunk in. A muffled thud came from close by, and Benji immediately opened his eyes again. Above him was a man... were those cat ears? His mind was playing with him... Questions flooded his mind. Was this person good? Bad? What was happening up there? Would Mac-o's toxin reach them down here? He tried to move again, this time having success capacity wise, but the pain of the motion pretty much disabled him. Forcing back the cry of pain, he whispered to the man beside him in a soft, pained tone.

"Who are you?"

Soft music flowed gracefully into her mind. A beautiful cocktail of piano and violins at their absolute best, producing a sound so relaxing that Matrix couldn't help but lean back in her seat and shut her eyes. In mid-air before her, she played an imaginary instrument, copying with precision the keyed worker of art's tune. She adored the symphony, and as it came to its climatic end it stopped, and the piece began once more.

There were so many situations in which Matrix could have appreciated the emotion inspiring notes so much more. At that moment it was becoming increasingly difficult. The spinning drone of rotor blades were drowning the art within, and it was only because they were necessary to maintain her vehicle in flight that he allowed them to continue with their disturbing noise. Opening her eyes she turned towards the window at her side and scanned briefly the land below her advancing helicopter. Seattle... a land apparently now forgotten, turned into the largest dumping site the world had come to know. Matrix never would have made the decision to go there out of choice, but it was separated from civilization and the reach of interfering hackers. At least, that was what her information gathering employees had told her. How deserted the area was wasn't a subject of utmost importance, however. What mattered was finding her contact and finishing as quickly as possible. She was working on a tight schedule, and was only committing to this mission personally because of the influence it could have on her other cases.

The Web Assassins. As new as they were to the hacking world, they were already becoming a huge pain. How was Matrix supposed to bring them down when every lead she encountered ended up in a black bag? Her job was becoming increasingly difficult, not only because any she captured cooperated rarely, but because a she imprisoned more and more their numbers depleted, reducing her possible contacts. The majority of them were rather antisocial creatures also, meaning that unless one threatened to take their life there was no way of forcing them into submission. Adding on to these problems was the fact that they were, as the name clearly implied, assassins. They were used to risking their lives, unlike lower profile hackers, and were harder to intimidate.

That had recently changed, though. Through weeks of tireless work and field missions she had finally found someone that could aid her. Someone who could bury into the Assassin's ranks and destroy them from the inside. It would be a risky effort, not capturing a hacker and instead having them roam freely with only a threat guiding them, but it was a necessary one. The organization was not only hacking but taking lives also. They needed to be stopped immediately, and only then would Matrix move on.

She drew her attention away from the glass to her left and stared into the darkness provided by her once again shut eyes. With a simple thought that pitch black became what could only be described as a computer screen, a visual representation of the information Matrix had infinitely stored within. A second thought caused all information she had gathered regarding the contact to unfold at high speeds, tabs and windows flashing into existence one after another, files and folders containing everything she would ever need to know. Matrix had never been one to put little effort into things, and before choosing this contact she had executed a thorough study of her past. She hadn't been the only candidate, but was the most adequate not only in skill and abilities, but due to her past and the amount of threats that could be made against her, she was perfect. The window to open was a general summary of everything before it. Yes, Matrix already knew everything she was reading, the information having sprouted from the endless abyss that was her memory, but it was useful to have everything gathered in one place, like one who studies for an exam and knows all that is necessary, but still carries a little cheat sheet in their pocket with all of that gathered knowledge at a hand movement's disposition.

'Angellica Satire' the file began. Beyond the alias was the woman's real name, and a profile that offered Matrix data on her personality, past, habits, and almost everything else one could come to know with access to even the most secret of government information. Accompanying the false identity was a recent photo, followed by a set of coordinates that corresponded with no map except for the global one that Matrix had developed within her own mind. The third thought wiped all of the data that had been born within the space of her eyes and the infinite black of her eyelids away, and substituted it with a very accurate, digital representation of the planet Earth in all of it's glory. Enveloping it's surface was a web of glowing, thin green lines, separating the planet into squares so small that Earth at that moment was nothing more than a large, illuminated green sphere. Then the ball turned and began to draw closer, Matrix's sight zooming in far enough to allow those tiny squares to become large and for miniscule numbers at each square's corner to become visible. They were the coordinates, and as time passed by the coordinates provided by Angellica's file were closed in upon. Eventually they were found, and as the turning and the zooming came to a halt a perfect, 3D ruin known to all as Seattle could be seen with a red dot that emanated enough light to be seen noticeable at one point.

Matrix allowed her eyelids to lift, no more than a few seconds having passed, and once again turned to the expanse of waste spread out below. Like only moments before she could see glowing green lines, this time much larger, stretching out to the horizon, the world in her line of sight divided into squares, including the flashing red dot that was still a reasonable distance away. Angellica had been found, and knew that Matrix was coming. She had been contacted before. Matrix had been the one that had told her to make her home in Seattle's dump, and since then Matrix had been tracking her.

It was the fourth thought that caused the helicopter to turn towards that red dot and continue it's flight into a descent. The Web Assassin was close, and had without a doubt heard the noise being made by Matrix' armed form of transportation.

The landing was made a short distance away from Angellica's current position, and as it touched the ground Matrix stood up and stretched, then making sure that she had not forgotten anything before lowering herself to the ground. It was not a step that brought her back to earth, but more of a simple form of flight. As she left the firm metal surface of the helicopter she did not collapse to the ground, but instead, continued to hover in the air and gently descended diagonally the few feet between herself and the dirt. She was followed by the only two figures that had been on that helicopter with her, and had not said a word since they had left. They were identical male's, dressed formally in black with only suits and ties of the highest quality, firm and emotionless expressions lining their faces. Like Matrix they left the helicopter in the same manner, touching to the ground with a heavy thud, however.

Matrix herself was more or less of the same height as those accompanying her, but was nowhere near being as well built as they were. She was dressed in a strange blue item of clothing that stuck to her tightly, covering most of her body with the neck and head as exceptions. This was an example of modern technology at it's pinnacle, a perfect fusion between protection and offensive capabilities with other uses that made Matrix an incredibly prepared woman for whatever the single Web Assassin could throw at her. Covering this hugging material were numerous plates, wires and other adornments that were all of a practical nature. More than an item of clothing, it was all an expansion of herself, all neurologically connected and under her complete control, just like her companions, who were just as lethally equipped. They just managed to blend in a little better.

She swiveled around and faced the helicopter, a basic model enhanced in almost every possible way, adding potential to it's combat adequacy and speed. It lacked a pilot, like the suit it was linked to it's owner and creator, and it was the fifth thought that sent it back into the sky as a scout, scanning the area for any traps that could be set. Matrix was a cautious woman and did not enjoy taking chances. There were chances, however, that needed to be taken, and this was one of them. Lowering a set of goggles strapped to her forehead she immediately began to take in the territory through new eyes. Data was constantly flowing into view regarding everything, from architectural details to useless information on the materials that composed her surroundings. At will objects and walls became transparent, highlighted by the green lines of their silhouette, and all behind them became visible. As of yet, there was nothing worth taking note of except for the glowing red of her objective below the ground in a makeshift residence that Matrix would never dream of calling home. It was connected to a sewer system, and that meant drains.

With a rare smile produced by the fact that Matrix knew she was finally putting plans into motion she advanced, followed by her partners, and called out Angellica's true name, her voice echoing loudly through the empty tunnels below.

"Well, that's at least one more meal." Demon smirked to herself lightly as the screen flicked to life. A semi-new, but not very well taken care of laptop laid on her lap, her fingers resting lightly on its surface as it booted. After running a few diagnostic checks, she slid it onto a shelf covered in various electronics, making a mental note to contact the owner tomorrow and tell them the repairs were done. She was contemplating whether to go ahead and try working on another when El Gato meowed loudly, breaking her thoughts. Even with her raptor vision it took Demon a few seconds to locate the creature. She was by the door, blending into the concrete wall perfectly as he stared off into the darkness that was the exit. Was someone there? Shifting uneasily, the winged girl stood slowly, turning towards the door. Then she heard the shout.

"Lisa Aztec!" The voice was loud and clear, whoever it was was already in the tunnels. Muttering profanities, Demon pulled her gun from the back waistband of her pants and took off the safety. The Aztec family were fairly well known billionaires, and Demon hated the fact she had once lived there, and still was, genetically at least, their daughter. Of course, they thought she was dead, as she wanted them to think. The last thing she needed was her face connected to them. Muttering another string of colorful language, Demon cocked the gun, aiming it for the empty doorway. She rustled her feathers lightly in anticipation, her wings tensed to shoot into the air if needed. Yet the back of her mind was still thinking about the voice... she felt like she had heard it before... Only one way to find out, she thought, and finally spoke, or shouted, a reply.

"Don't ever use that name!" She spoke in an almost impeccable chinese accent, almost sounding as if she didn't fully speak english. She did, of course, speak english perfectly, but you could never be too careful. Thinking hard, she tried to place the name again, and this time she was successful. It was Her. The voice from that one phone call that had changed her life, was now here, in her sewers. Growling under her breath, she called out again, this time in her natural, american accent. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Matrix lowered herself into the sewers, hovering in the air and lightly touching the horribly moist ground. Leaving what had once been a conduit of human defecation untouched over the years was a formula for certain nostril burning odors. Only someone living there could possibly resist the deadly smells arising from the floor.

"Don't ever use that name!" came a strangely unfamiliar voice. Matrix was watching the only other form of human life in those sewers carefully, her vision penetrating the solid walls, showing her the target. The voice did not correspond with what she saw, and what she saw was the figure of a woman, gun drawn, just waiting for her to approach the door-less doorway. It could have been an imposter, a trap set up to escape from her unfortunate situation, but those feathered wings could only belong to one person. There was no mistaking that.

Still... she began to run a mental check. The vibrations having been emitted by the woman in wait had been recorded and was gradually being matched to other sound waves stored into her memory banks. This would be her confirmation. There was little doubt, but if it wasn't Angellica, well, the whole affair would have been a whole waste of time.

"What the hell are you doing here?" echoed a completely different tone. For a moment Matrix felt anxious, and her eyes darted from one side to another, searching for any other being that could be hidden in view, waiting to strike. Then her head swerved over to her shoulder and she scanned the area behind her. Nothing. This voice had been matched instantly with Angellica's recording from their previous call and it was obvious that the woman being spied upon had been the vocal origin. For a moment Matrix was still, until the first voice was linked to a name.

Angellica again.

Her worries faded in an instant as she realized that there was no ambush hidden expertly away from her obstacle ignoring vision. Still not wishing to endanger herself, however, she wouldn't be the first to emerge from that last corner to where she could be seen from the makeshift home. One of her male subordinates advanced, no stealth in mind, and turned to where Angellica would be aiming directly at him. Without hesitation he advanced, his handgun clearly visible in his hand.

“I have come for you, miss Aztec. Unless you wish for our encounter to be more violent than necessary, cooperate as a civil person would,” she said, calmly and coldly, with just enough power behind her voice to be heard without becoming anything even remotely close to a shout. “You know why I am here, and that I can make your life much easier. When I enter your 'home', I do not expect to find any threats. Is that clear?”

the Under Ground : art show

Adam took a seat at one of the VIP bars, it was raised a bit so they would have a slightly better view than the backs of peoples heads. Just as he settled into his stool his ears perked up. There were always noises and sounds at the Under Ground, but the small knot in his stomach told him that was a gunshot. He shook off the feeling and turned back to his drink. His mind wandered idly shifting his focus from one thing to the next but never really seeing what he was looking at. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a second shot, and this time he was sure it was a shot. He stood and pulled back his jacket, putting a hand firmly on the grip of his own gun.

Then the lights went out.

Not just the lights, the computers, the displays, everything was out. He looked as his wrist and noted that the minute LED that indicated his GLOVE was powered on was off.

He swung around, using his hand to feel for Lisa, "Liz."

"Still here, drinking, in the dark." She said, but her voice came up at him from a few feet below where her head should have been. She had slipped off her stool and sat with her back to the bar. Adam could hear the slight fear in her voice, no doubt she had heard the shot too.

"Well, I suppose we stay put. Can't go out guns blazing if I can't see whats going on."

There were mixed reactions from the rest of the spectators, about half couldn't care less, they simply carried on the same conversation they were before the lights went out, eventually the lights would come back on and the show would go on as if nothing had happened. Others were slightly to extremely more concerned. He figured there weren't many people that realized there was someone with a gun in the building, and that someone had been shooting.

Adam decided he would let security and the authorities figure it out once the lights came back up, he'd be on his guard but it was useless for him to go hunting around for one random person in this place. He knew that a sweep team would be on its way for sure now, something like this would have them pawing the door waiting for their higher ups to give them the go ahead. Some people blamed anything that was anything on hackers. As he took a drink he decided that there was a very good chance that that special guest would be showing up. It had been a while since he out right mocked an authority figure.

So he waited, drinking, in the dark.

Dahlia took a seat beside Lisa and calmly bobbed her head to the music, sipping at her margarita. She glanced over the crowd and noticed something a little off then what she had seen a few moments ago. “Hm,” she quickly passed it off as nothing, before she heard a loud bang and her cyborg arm clenched crushing her glass. She knew that noise all too well.

“What the hell,” she murmured wiping off her hand with a napkin. She heard another and immediately stood to her feet, readying herself. She glanced over at Adam to see what he was doing and of course he was just as suspicious as she was. Then everything shut down.

Dahlia scowled, slightly annoyed, and whoever was pulling this stunt, it certainly was not funny to her. She heard Lisa’s voice, but didn’t pay attention to it and she heard Adams remark about not leaving where they were.

“The dark never stopped me before.” Dahlia responded leaving her friends, to “feel” around the area. She looked through her handy purse and found a small flash light and pointed it to the floor. Of course there was the usual half crowd in a mess, screaming and talking over themselves trying to figure out what was going on and security trying to keep everyone calm. Dahlia was sure that her friends would do without her for the time being after all, they were going to stay put until the lights were on.

Dahlia kept her head to the floor following the light and listening to the voices of everyone. “It was some man over there!” Someone shouted rushing past Dahlia. Dahlia raised an eyebrow and pointed her flashlight around the crowd. Everyone looked the same and she didn’t quite no what she was looking for so, she decided to stand where she was and look around until the lights came back on, hopefully she would see someone of interest.

This pissed her off, she was trying to have a nice night.

Angellica tensed her muscles for a spring into the air. Her eyes narrowed, her gun staying on the door. Then the man rounded the corner. Large, strong, and armed, she wouldn't be a match for him. Instinctively she launched into the air, though as who it was registered in her mind she stopped, her wings beating rhythmically with her heart and causing her to hover more or less about three feet above the ground. Watching the man very carefully, she tucked the gun into the back waistband of her bright red pants, where she could reach it if needed. Thats when she heard Her voice again.

“I have come for you, miss Aztec. Unless you wish for our encounter to be more violent than necessary, cooperate as a civil person would,” The voice was cold and stern, maybe even cocky. Angellica bit her tongue to prevent any visible or audible signs of disgust and anger from coming out. “You know why I am here, and that I can make your life much easier. When I enter your 'home', I do not expect to find any threats. Is that clear?" At this Angellica's wings stopped their motion, causing her to land on the ground with a light thud. She absorbed the shock with her knees and feet, clearly used to such landings.

"As butter." Angellica called back, in an entirely serious tone. Flipping the stray pink hairs from her face with a dramatic motion of the head, she stood, watching the doorway, as well as the man, and waiting. If she had the chance she would most certainly end the life of this... person, but it seemed like today was not going to let her do that. Oh well, she would just do the least she could. While she was still alone with just the man, she looked to him, speaking in a softer tone. "Sorry, but your boss isn't up to date on a few things... I changed my name to Satire over ten years ago."

Amidst the noise, the tears, and the pain, Emia's mind was actually still functioning slightly. She knew where she was, she knew what she was doing, and she knew she was almost certainly going to be in trouble later. Things she didn't know, were that turning off the lights had been a very dumb move, her make-up was running and revealing the thin white circuits beneath, and that the assailant had left. After what could of easily been between a second and a century, a voice broke in on Emia's half formed thoughts.

"Cut it out. Let the people have their light." Iota's voice rushed into her consciousness, breaking through the screams, and the voices, and her own sobs. Seconds later she did so, releasing the electricity and allowing it to flow once more. "Good girl. Now, stop crying." This one was harder. Meanwhile, people were pointing as one by one lights began to flicker on. Several people hurriedly pulled out cellular devices or GLOVEs, relieved to see them working again. Others just stood and stared. Emia struggled to a sitting position, her bandaged arm throbbing from the thrust. Had it busted? Emia looked down, but didn't see any blood. That was good. Forcing herself to stop sniffling she looked around, seriously hoping no one had noticed her.

She had forgotten all about her makeup, but as she wiped her eyes she saw the telltale smudges on her hand. Oh sh*t! She had been such an idiot... What if people saw? Thanks to the paparazzi, everyone would know who she was. No... This can't be happening! She thought to herself, but she knew that it was. Struggling to her feet, Emia noticed that her high heels were gone. Sighing and biting her lip she began to slowly move along the wall, trying not to be noticed as she headed for the emergency exit.

As Matrix' subordinate advanced upon the target's home, she watched. He was still, and each step was a coordinated advance into a position that would give him the best view possible of the home. If the winged woman made any attempt to escape there was a high chance that she would be stopped or would at least leave with more than a superficial injury.

As she watched, the almost demonic girl they were closing in on took flight, ascending from the ground with beating wing that ascended and fell at a constant pace. She was maintaining her elevated position well. Then, as Matrix and her advancing subordinate scanned her every movement cautiously, she lowered her weapon and placed it in a perfectly reachable spot behind her. Admittedly this did not make the situation that much safer. The objective could still easily obtain her weapon and defend herself if the need was present. Still, reports was evidence enough of the fact that this woman was not a fool. Impulsive, yes, but not stupid. She was one, armed with a single weapon, against three that were superior at that moment in arms and protection. An attack would be insane.

“I have come for you, miss Aztec. Unless you wish for our encounter to be more violent than necessary, cooperate as a civil person would. You know why I am here, and that I can make your life much easier. When I enter your 'home', I do not expect to find any threats. Is that clear?” Matrix announced. Upon speaking the target allowed her wing to halt their beating, and as a consequence she descended to the ground with a thud. She landed skilfully. Another detail regarding her capabilities.

"As butter,” was her response. "Sorry, but your boss isn't up to date on a few things... I changed my name to Satire over ten years ago,” she then added in what seemed to be a kinder tone directed towards the man standing only a short distance away. He did not reply, or even make any sign of having heard her. Angellica's reply hadn't been the one that Matrix had been hoping for. She sighed to herself in almost silent frustration at the woman's defiance, and as she did so, the second male that had been standing obediently at her side advanced. He made his way around the corner and continued until he stood at the other's side. They were perfect copies of one another. Same height, weight, facial features, clothing and, at that time, offensive devices. Both were of an overly muscular build, dressed in clothing of the highest quality with an extremely formal air around them. Side by side they focused their undivided attention on Angellica and in unison raised their handguns in the right hand to the same height.

“Discard your weapon,” they spoke in unison. Their voice was devoid of emotion, but nonetheless human, almost. Their handguns remained trained on Angellica and they were still. With the pair present and between the two females Matrix doubted that Angellica could do anything to harm her, but there was still a slim chance. Knowing this, she stayed around the corner and waited for the other to make the first move.

“I said no threats whatsoever,” she added on in the same, more or less cocky tone she had made use of before. “Once again. Is that clear?”

The first thing that entered Angellica's mind when the second man entered was to a vintage movie she had seen several years back. Twiddledee and Tweedledumb, she thought with a smirk, noting the men's similarities. He took up a position directly beside the other, and then they both, creepily in unison, pointed their weapons at her. Angellica mentally scoffed, idly wondering how much time they had wasted learning that little trick. That was a thing about Angellica, danger didn't really have much affect on her. At least not at the time. Later, once she was perfectly safe, she was entirely prone to the mental stress and such that a normal person feels.

"Discard your weapon." They both spoke at the exact same time, in those flat emotionless voices that reminded Angellica of the vintage films about mind control. After that thought, Angellica noticed the guns were still on her, and decided it would be best to obey. Smirking, she reached behind her, and took out her gun. Holding it in both hands, in her palms, in such a way it would be impossible for her to shoot, she held it out to the men. Even though she thought it was a bit silly, the human part of her was slightly unnerved by their symmetry, so she was attempting to break it. They couldn't ~both~ take the gun from her. She waited several seconds, growing a bit more unnerved, when she heard the voice again.

“I said no threats whatsoever,” The voice sounded the same, a bit cocky and perfectly certain. “Once again. Is that clear?" At this, Angellica simply tossed the gun away from them. It slid along the floor and came to a rest by the far wall. Still watching the guns, Angellica folded her wings tightly into her back. If they did shoot her, she wanted her wings unscathed for quick escape; knowing herself, she wasn't very likely to get out of this without at least a little injury. Sighing, she took a few steps backwards, leaning on the wall opposite the door and crossing her arms. She stared intently at the space, waiting for Her to appear in it. Several seconds passed, seconds Angellica hated waiting. Growing uncomfortable, she spoke again.

"Alright... I've discarded my weapon. What else do you want?" The second part was rhetorical, more of an expression of her annoyance than anything. This whole affair was growing quite tiresome, and she knew it was only beginning.

Virtual Briefing ; Complete

The H.U.D of the virtual training unit thirteen had been using flashed green several times. "Well now, that was less than entertaining." scoffed the agent, his eyes scanning the room around him as he lifted his specs from a nearby chair. "Doc? You readin' me?" asked thirteen.

"Loud and clear, thirteen." replied Doc.

"Well, that's just dandy... where's the dame you set me up with? She can't 'handle' me if she isn't here."

"She's gone, thirteen. her assignment was to see you to the training area for virtual briefing on your next mission."

"Uh-huh.. and where's sharkskin and pencilneck?" replied thirteen.. he hadn't a clue how long he'd been out.

"Nevermind that, hit the gym. Your muscles might feel a little flimsy." suggested Doc. Thirteen rolled his neck, a loud symphony of crackle easily heard by anyone nearby. "Fine, I could use some practice." Thirteen agreed, picking up his coat and tie and walking over to the physical training area.


.......

The moment Thirteen walked in the door, it began. For some odd reason, a few of the other agents had begun to snicker, others pointed and whispered, and finally one of them spoke.

"Hey, momma's boy.. you been in that computer room an awful long time.. what's the matter? Can't hang with the big boys?" suggested Lucious Granz.. the sight of him activated the file pull feature on thirteen's shades and the hud soon began it's usual task of displaying info on the man.

Name : Lucious Granz
Height : Six Foot One Inches
Ethnicity : Latin American
Age : Twenty Nine
Weight : Two Hundred Thirty Pounds
Muscle Mass : Seventy Eight Percent

"Yaknow, Granz, you have a tendency to open that fat mouth of yours when nobody cares what you have to say. If you're so certain I've gone soft.. why not simply prove it?" thirteen suggested, walking over to one of the many sparing rings in the room and strapping on a pair of MMA gloves.

"Why would I waste my time fighting you?" shot back Granz with a snarel, taking a step toward Thirteen.

"That's true..." replied thirteen.. "...why would you want to waste your time getting beaten up?"

Thirteen hopped into the ring, sliding gracefully into his stance. Both his hands were risen and outstretched to half capacity, his body turned sideways to the Granz before he allowed his hands to drop to his sides and fall into his pockets.

"You know, Granzy, they say if you're truly good at a martial art.. you can use it effectively without the base stance"

Thirteen curled the tips of his index and middle digits as he eyed the opponent. Granz entered the ring already blazingly angry and rushed in with a high right hook. Thirteen hardly even flinched. He glanced at the arm coming toward him and raised his right phalange, jabbing the two curled fingers into the muscle of Granz's upper arm. Granz growled in pain and took a step back. The pain was similar to a cramp and was now limiting the motion of his right arm. Thirteen rushed in as his enemy staggered back, Granz shot out another hard punch, this time a left straight. Thirteen leaned forward, ducking down and swinging his two arms across and by one another, digging the fingers of his right hand into the inner side of Granz's left thigh, and the fingers of the right into the same muscular area of Granz's left thigh. Needless to say, Granz crumbled to the ground, his legs burning as he flailed in pain...

"So... anyone else wanna pick on the momma's boy?" asked thirteen, casting a cold stare over the room. "I might have been outta commision for a while, but I'm certainly not down."