Chapter 30: Pyg in the City

Word Count : 11280

Krieg was angry. You could probably never tell it from his outward appearance, but he was angry. Really, really angry.

"You disobeyed orders, you went off on your own without authorization and aided a man known by the Justice League for his criminal dealings," those words kept repeating over and over in his head like a broken tape recorder, complete with Batman's disapproving tone. Even as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop, Krieg could not escape the voice, nor the punishment dealt out to him. Banned from missions for the foreseeable future, forbidden from leaving Los Angeles without League supervision, and two hours of sparring and therapy sessions with Black Canary at the Cave every day for the rest of the week.

Just the mere thought of these actions made him even angrier. Oh, not at the punishments themselves, he had endured far worse as just basic training back home. No, what made him angry was the fact that he was punished in the first place. Had he not protected lives? Had he not helped stop a war? Had he not done all that the Justice League was supposed to do? And yet they still treated him like he had done something wrong, like he had committed a crime. You did disobey direct orders. Had you still been in the Death Korps, you would have been placed before a firing squad for this, a voice that sounded suspiciously like his old sergeant whispered in his mind.

Krieg knew that, he understood that, but he could not dig up even the most basic shred of guilt for his actions. Yes, he disobeyed direct orders, but so did the sidekicks back at Cadmus, did they receive the same treatment then? No, they got everything they had ever wanted, with barely even a reprimand for their actions. So if they could get away with it, why not him? The answer was obvious; favoritism. For all their talk of friendship, camaraderie and all those other useless notions, they still viewed Krieg as the outsider, as the odd one out. They would never give him the same freedom as the others, never let him out from under their shadow, and that irked him more than anything else.

"Emperor damn them all," he muttered in frustration. At least they had the common sense not to ban him from patrolling Los Angeles, a miniscule plus in an otherwise shitty situation. Speaking of patrol, it seemed like he had stumbled upon something, if that scream of terror was anything to go by. Turning to where the noise came from, Krieg could not contain a sigh from slipping out.

"A dark alley, why is it always a dark alley? And in the middle of the night too?" he asked himself in irritation as he headed over where the commotion was coming. Seriously, with the amount of crimes that took place in these kinds of environments, you would think that people would learn to stay as far away from them as possible, or at least travel in larger groups. Evidently, that was too much to ask for. And when he arrived at the scene and peered down into the alley, he had to bit his lips to stop the groan of exasperation that almost broke loose.

"What was the word that the mutant speedster likes to use? Cliché?" he asked himself as he beheld the young and attractive blonde woman being cornered by a group of muscled thugs with lecherous grins on their faces. Seriously, Krieg could have sworn he stopped a similar event yesterday, and another one the week before. Kind of pathetic, now that he thought about it. He was half tempted to just walk away and let them have their way with her. Maybe then people would actually start learning to be cautious. Alas, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter, Krieg could not let criminals walk away from him unpunished, so he grabbed his shotgun and leaped down to their level, to their great shock.

"Let's just get this over with quickly," Krieg stated before opening fire. First shot knocking out the apparent leader with a hit to the head, second shot struck its target between the legs, third and fourth shot were put in the chest of the same target before he went time, fifth most likely ruined its target's right eye for the rest of his life, sixth shot busted a knee at almost point-blank range, and then the last one was upon him before the final shot could be discharged. But Krieg merely sidestepped and tripped the attacker, then put the final shot in his back while on the ground before finishing off with a kick to the head that knocked him out cold. A quick survey confirmed that all hostiles were either unconscious or in too much pain to offer further resistance, so he put his shotgun away with a self-satisfied nod.

"Thank you, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't-" and then the woman started speaking, at which point he promptly silenced her with a dark glare that she could feel even from behind his gasmask.

"Go home, and stay there," he growled at her, and she promptly fled like the devil himself was nipping at her heels, her gratitude having turned to fear.

"Weakling," Krieg muttered in disdain once she was gone, at which point he used his grapple gun to scale the rooftops again. Then he was off on his continued patrol. As it turned out, it would be a relatively quiet night. He only ran into another attempted rape, stopped three separate muggings, stumbled right into an attempt at homicide, witnessed a suicide he saw no need to prevent and halted an arrogant punk trying to jaywalk. Compared to what usually went down during the night, this was a routine sweep more than anything. It was even getting to the point that Krieg considered returning to base and get an hour or two of rest. But as was quickly becoming par for the course, this was when disaster struck.

Passing by a construction site, Krieg halted in his tracks when he heard a faint noise, coming from deeper within the site. With a big sign at the front proclaiming "NO TRESPASSING", Krieg's suspicion was peeked and so he leapt over the fence. Drawing his shotgun yet again, and making sure it was fully loaded, he began to advance deeper into the construction site, letting his ears guide the way. The closer he got, the clearer he could distinguish the sound, and the more confused he became. 'Is that… music? And it sounds more like what you play at an opera house, not out on the streets,'

Finally, he came across the source of the music, and Krieg was instantly on high alert. There, strung up like a macabre scarecrow, was a body dressed in nothing by a hospital gown and bandages over its head. Frowning behind his mask, Krieg cautiously approached, eyes peeled for any sign of danger. Once he stood before the body, he gave it a few experimental pokes, fingers constantly on the trigger. No reaction, not even a miniscule twitch. Definitively dead then.

"Great, a homicide," Krieg muttered in irritation as he set off to inspect the surrounding area, hoping to find the perpetrator. No such luck for him, he could not even discern if he arrived by foot or by car, too many tracks in the ground from the work force to discern individual ones. With no choice, he returned to the murder scene, glaring at the corpse like it was to blame for everything wrong in the world.

"Let's see, who we're dealing with," he muttered to himself as he reached up and tore off the bandages. He was to be sorely disappointed, as the mutilated face beneath was completely unrecognizable. It was like someone had gone to great lengths to remove any trace of individualism and uniqueness about the face. Annoying.

"Another supervillain then," Krieg concluded grimly. Detective work was never his forte, but he had been in this business long enough to recognize certain hallmarks, like the fact that supervillains had a strange fondness for either gimmicks or calling cards, as a way to identify themselves above the regular criminals that ran amuck across the world. And this? Painstakingly specific mutilation coupled with a unique taste in music? It all but screamed calling card to Krieg.

"Let's see if this will work instead," procuring a plastic bag and drawing his knife, Krieg secured himself some quick tissue samples from the body, then he sent a quick signal to the local law enforcement. His work done for now, Krieg headed back to his base of operation. The sun was about to rise in a few hours, and he wanted to restock and get a few extra sweeps in before reporting in to Black Canary.

"So, what's the word on this one?" the forensic asked as a new body was hauled in for inspection.

"Looks like a surgery horror show, coupled with weird music," was the answer he received.

"Lovely. Time of death?" he inquired as he pulled on some rubber gloves.

"Don't know for sure yet. Some moron came there before us and made a mess of the investigation area before calling us. It's gonna take some time before we sort things out,"

"Great. Well then, I guess I had better-" and then they all collapsed to the floor, knocked out by an unseen force. That unseen force soon rose out of the darkness like a malicious ghost, hooded and cloaked to hide itself. The intruder spared a quick glance at the unconscious people before moving on to the murder victim.

"Poor man, you've suffered a fate none should have to endure," the intruder muttered as a hand came to rest atop the disfigured face, an otherwordly power flowing from the fingertips into the dead skin.

"Show me who did the deed, show me the injustice done to you, and I will make sure that justice is served," the intruder spoke, the faintest of whispers answering in return.

"Thank you. Go in peace, and know that your tormentor will not plague this world for long," those were the last words uttered before the intruder vanished back into the shadows from whence it came.

SMACK! And down went Krieg again, the holographic projector literally spelling it out with "Krieg: fail". But never one to admit defeat, Krieg sprang back up on his feet and attacked again. SMACK! And met the same fate yet again.

"That's enough for today," Black Canary announced, offering a helping hand to Krieg, who was still flat on his back. He ignored the offered help and climbed back on his feet by himself. At least none of the team was here to witness this, what with the xenos away on some secret mission and the sidekicks with their mentors.

"If that is all then, I wish to return to Los Angeles," he stiffly replied as he stood at attention, wishing for this so-called "punishment" to be over and done with.

"A moment first, please," but those hopes were quickly dashed as Black Canary gestured for him to join her at one of the benches. He knew where this this was going. With great reluctance, he seated himself next to the blonde mutant, praying for this to over with swiftly.

"You've been distracted all day, barely paying attention to our spars like you usually do," Black Canary began, and already Krieg was looking away from her, refusing to meet her eyes.

"It is nothing," he stated with finality. Truth be told, it was frustration that was distracting him, frustration at the case back in Los Angeles. His scan had come up blank, the victim's DNA having been corrupted beyond recognition by whatever foul method the killer had used. That pushed Krieg back to square one, and he had no idea how to proceed from there. It frustrated him, the knowledge that a villain was running amok in the city and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Krieg, you know you don't have to do things on your own. We're here for you, if you'll just let us," she tried to encourage him with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Krieg really should have done what he normally did, that being give a vague enough affirmative to satisfy her and then ignore everything she said once back at base. But this time, something snapped in him and he could not contain himself.

"Like during the Rhelasian peace summit?" he spat right back at her, to her great surprise if the way her eyes widened was any indication. But that surprise quickly vanished on her part.

"We've already been over this before, you acted rashly without telling anyone of your plans, and you worked with Luthor of all people," she pointed out with a disapproving frown.

"I am not even going to attempt to argue with you on that point, because I frankly do not care about your opinion either way. But why did I have to even work on my own in the first place, aided only by the renegade sidekick Red Arrow? Why did the Justice League not get involved?" that was something that had been eating away at him ever since coming back from Rhelasia. A completely pointless and petty war had been but one misstep away from breaking out, and not a single League member had been present to help facilitate a peaceful solution.

"It's not that simple, Krieg, even though I often wish it was. We proposed to the U.N. that we be allowed to send an arbitrator to help solve the problem, but our suggestion was vetoed and Luthor was appointed instead," Black Canary revealed, bitterness seeping into her tone that even Krieg was able to notice.

"And they did not even allow you to be present at the summit for security?" Krieg asked dubiously.

"There were some who felt that a powerful League presence would intimidate the representatives," damn right it would have, that would have been the whole damn point! Nothing brings out compliance faster than an overwhelming show of force.

"Then those people should be removed from their posts and executed for criminal incompetence," Krieg declared. Those people, whoever they were, had jeopardized the entire summit with their negligence, and should pay for it.

"That's not how things work," Black Canary reprimanded, hands on her hips as she stood back on her feet.

"That is how things should work," Krieg shot right back as he too stood back up.

"This is not a dictatorship we live in. This is democracy, we can't just execute whoever we feel deserve it," Black Canary reminded him, which brought a sneer to his lips.

"Democracy, a failed system of governance that breeds weakness and complacency. This nonsense of giving power to the civilian population is a disaster waiting to happen. Better then that a more militaristic and authoritarian system of governance be implemented," Krieg countered. That was something he had desired to say for months now, something he had felt burning in his skull every time he watched this world's weak-willed politicians make their simpering speeches and excuses.

"To persecute whoever has a differing opinion, even if they have done nothing wrong?" she questioned with an eyebrow raised challengingly.

"To get result, no matter what it takes," he corrected. That apparently did not sit well with her at all.

"You know, we have saying here: innocent until proven guilty," she pointed out. But Krieg was quick with a counter.

"And we have a saying where I am from as well: innocence proves nothing,"

"No rest for the weary," Anarky muttered as he stepped through what felt like the umpteenth Warp portal today.

"Tired already?" an equally worn out Scandal Savage asked snidely as she followed him.

"Shut it," he spat back as they emerged deep in the rainforests of central Africa, right smack in the middle of what could only be described as a para-military camp. "Shouldn't you return home soon anyway? Your father is bound to grow suspicious if your absence is noted,"

"I'd be surprised if that old geezer even bothers to check up on me every other week or so," Scandal answered as they walked deeper into the camp side by side. All around them, men and women were gearing up for war, training in both close combat and ranged combat.

"Lucky you then, barely a day goes by for me without our master calling upon me for a task," Anarky remarked as he eyed everyone around him with suspicion. He was not comfortable in these people's presence, being primarily a follower of Tzeentch and he was right in the middle of a Khornate camp. Could have been worse though, he could have been sent to the Nurglites out in China. Last he heard, those buggers were starting to creep over the Korean border, rapidly adding its starving population to the cause.

"Careful there, you're starting to sound like you harbor ill feelings towards our prophet, and we can't have that," Scandal playfully chided as they passed under a gathering of corpses dangling from the trees with their backs cut open and their lungs placed on their shoulders like macabre wings.

"What can I say? It's our lot in life as henchmen," he joked, idly watching a group of cultists building a pyramid of freshly decapitated heads. Skulls for the Skull Throne and all that good stuff.

"Anyway, where the hell is that little pipsqueak?" Scandal asked as she looked at her surroundings in search of a particular target.

"Just follow the sounds of battle, and we'll find her," Anarky replied as he led the way, heading towards a large gathering of people, all of them with their backs to them as they cheered on something out of the duo's sight. Shouldering their way to the front, as well as ignoring the plethora of murderous glares thrown their way, they quickly found who their were looking for.

"Well, she certainly didn't take long getting comfortable," Anarky remarked as he beheld a large circle formed by the crowd, with said circle already filled with dozens of corpses and only a handful of survivors still standing. One of said survivors, a petite little thing with what looked like blonde hair under all the blood and gore covering her, was currently in the business of ripping all the others to bloody bits in spectacular displays of gory violence that had the crowd roaring in approval.

"Those guys she's killing better be prisoners that refused to convert, and not our soldiers," Scandal muttered in irritation. Khornates were always a nuisance in her opinion, good for a fight but little else. The current spectacle, which ended with the girl ripping the head off a man twice her size with her bare hands, only cemented her opinion. Thankfully, that seemed to be the end of it as the crowd began dispersing, some rushing forward the drag the corpses away as the girl approached the duo.

"Mia, a pleasure to meet you again," Anarky greeted with a cheerful smile, and got a vicious scowl from the bloodthirsty girl.

"Spare me you bullshit and just get to the fucking point!" she sneered at him, her voice like jagged steel grinding again stone, harsh and unpleasant to listen to. A definitive change from the last time they met. As a matter of fact, a lot of things had changed about her. Dressed only in a sports bra and shorts, Khorne's favor was plain to see in her rippling muscles which had most definitively not been there the last time anyone saw her. And was it their imagination, or did her teeth look more like fangs all of a sudden?

"Very well then. Azkillon desires an update on our efforts here in Africa," Anarky answered, dispensing completely with courtesies and the like.

"Business is booming here, especially in violent hotspots. Last I checked, Somalia is all but ours, and we're dragging in dirt poor cannon fodder by the truckload every day. Just give the signal, and we'll drown the whole continent in blood," Mia reported, still carrying a look on her face that basically said she would rather gut the both of them rather than converse any further. That was proper Champion of Khorne material in Scandal's opinion, and she did not mean it as a compliment.

"Excellent, and I trust you've been keeping a low profile as well, to minimize the risk of us being discovered too early," Anarky remarked.

"If you meant to ask if anyone's figured out that some of the mass murdering psychopaths running loose actually serve a God that was not shat out of the Middle East, then no," Mia answered with a sneer.

"I suppose that's all we can hope for with your kind," Anarky could not help but spit out at her.

"You're damn right it is," she spat right back at him.

"Then I guess this meeting is concluded, my dear. Just remember, if your rabble of lunatics compromise our plans in any way, it will be on your head," Anarky warned, but that only seemed to amuse Mia as she gave him a bloodthirsty grin. Quite literally as blood had begun to seep out of her gums.

"Brave words, you got the balls to actually carry them out?" she challenged as she stepped closer, like a beast making ready to pounce on its prey.

"It's not me you would need to answer to, but the Master," Anarky pointed out, and that took the winds right out of Mia's sails. Her grin vanished as she stepped away again, properly chastised.

"I can assure you, there will be no trouble on my end, I'll make sure of it personally," she growled out, almost like acting this subservient was painful to her.

"Good, then we'll be on our way," Anarky announced in satisfaction before turning around with a dramatic swirl of his cap, with Scandal quickly falling in line next to him.

"Think we can trust her?" she inquired once enough distance had been placed between them and Mia.

"Of course not. She's a Khornate, all they ever care about is death and bloodshed. Give her a week or two, and she will have forgotten our warning entirely," Anarky stated with absolute certainty, garnering a raised eyebrow from his companion.

"Then why waste time on this little venture?" she asked in confusion.

"Because when Mia and her band inevitably go berserk and muck everything up, we can safely say to the Master that we did our best to remind her of her duties, and thus lay all the blame on her," he answered.

"Ah, so we're covering our own asses then," Scandal deduced as she nodded in understanding.

"Welcome to Chaos, my dear,"

Another night, another patrol. At least this night, things were rather calm, which suited Krieg just fine as it gave him more time to search for the elusive killer with a weird fixation on surgery. So far, the search had not been going so well. Three bodies found, but not a single trace of the culprit. Really made Krieg wish he could just call in an orbital bombardment on the whole city, that would be sure to take care of that problem. Alas, no such option was available to him, so Krieg had to do it the old-fashioned way. Not that it was doing him much good at the moment as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop.

"Cowardly degenerate," he muttered to himself before a peculiar sight caught his attention. Up in the skies, a searchlight shone onto the clouds in imitation of Gotham's Bat signal. What caught Krieg's attention though was the fact that the signal was in the shape of the Imperial Aquila.

"Someone better have a very good reason for desecrating the Emperor's holy symbol like this," he growled out before making a beeline straight for where the signal was coming from. To his surprise, he found it atop the police department, with the local police commissioner even standing next to it as if waiting for someone. Krieg had a very good guess as to who that could be. With a final leap and a well-timed use of a grapple gun, Krieg landed before a very startled commissioner.

"Damn heroes, can't you just use the stairs like normal people?" he questioned as he straightened his coat.

"The roofs are much faster. Now tell me, what is the purpose of this thing?" that question was punctuated by a strong kick to the search light.

"To get your bloody attention, since I don't have your phone number or email address. Considering you're here, I'd say it works splendidly," the commissioner answered. Well, Krieg could not really argue that logic.

"Then what do you want?" Krieg questioned. He and the police department had never had what you would call good relations, or any relation at all really, so this call was highly unusual.

"Because I've been in this business long enough to recognize when I'm out of my league," the commissioner answered as he handed over a folder. "Those victims you brought in? We finally managed to identify them after hours of autopsy. A bunch of lowlifes and vagabonds with nothing much in common except having undergone some medical treatment before disappearing. However, it's not the victims that are of interest here, but their killer. We found that the intense surgery done on the victims are an exact match on the M.O. of one Lazlo Valentin, more commonly referred to as Professor Pyg,"

"Then what do we know of this Professor?" Krieg inquired as he flipped through the folder, quickly skimming through the notes on the victims and general data on the killer.

"Apart from his sick experiments? That he's a deranged schizophrenic with an unhealthy obsession of making people 'perfect', which he accomplishes by transforming them into what he refers as Dollotrons, mindless slaves that he uses as security and enforcers. The fucker is supposed to be locked up in Arkham Asylum, but I guess nobody was watching the revolving door when he checked out. Wouldn't be the first time," the commissioner spat out in contempt, not that Krieg could blame him. Who had honestly authorized precious tax money on that useless Asylum?

"Any known hideouts, or areas of preference?" Krieg contined as he memorized all available information on these so-called Dollotrons. Hm, immune to pain, no free thought or ability to feel fear, intimidation and blunt force will not be enough then. Aim for the limbs then with lethal force, incapacitate them by taking out their means of mobility.

"If we did, I'd have had a SWAT team there five hours ago with orders to shoot on sight, and damn the consequences," the commissioner admitted, and Krieg's respect for the man just went up a notch. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to actually remember his name for future interactions.

"Nothing of value then?" Krieg mused.

"Sadly, no. Honestly, I'd hoped that you had a better idea than us," he admitted. Well, back to square one then.

"Thank you, your cooperation is most appreciated," Krieg simply answered before turning to make his exit, right before stopping in his tracks. "And the next time you want to contact me, use this instead," leaping away before the commissioner could answer. At least now he had a face and a name to place on his target, now he just needed a location.

He had no idea where he was, had no idea why he was here, he did not know how he ended up here, he did not even know what was going to happen to him. But one thing he knew with certainty though was that whatever his fate here was to be, it would not be a good, a view that was strongly reinforced by the screams coming from further inside this fucking place. If he had to guess, those screams belonged to the girl that the freakish things had dragged away a few minutes ago. Poor thing, could not have been out of puberty yet, and she sounded Russian to his ears. Hardly the best way to be introduced to the land of the free and the home of the brave. But whatever her fate may be, it was sure as hell not going to be his as well.

Whoever was running this freak show either had a hell of a lot of confidence in their security, or was a complete moron when it came to dealing with prisoners. Oh sure, this fine little cage they had stuck him in, which was better suited to an animal than a man, may have been enough to deal with your everyday bloke. But to someone who had spent half his life picking pockets, and the other half picking locks, this was nothing more than a speed bump, especially when the morons did not even bother with thoroughly searching him. Soon enough, he had his trusted lockpick in hand and was patiently working on the lock.

"Come on, come on, come on, come on," well, maybe not that patiently. Not that you could blame him. Who knew when it was his turn? Speaking of which, were those footsteps he was hearing right now?

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!" he muttered to himself as he fumbled with the lock in a blind panic. Thankfully, by a stroke of good fortune, the lock finally fell off. He wasted no time in throwing the cage wide open and making a beeline for the nearest door opposite of where the footsteps. But as he threw the door open with enough force to audibly slam it into the wall, he absentmindedly began to wonder if mayhaps he could have been a bit more discrete with his escape attempt. The sound or running behind him certainly added evidence to that theory. He happily told that part of his brain to sit down and shut up as he ran through the corridors like all the hordes of hell were nipping at his heels. He did not even care where he ran, as long as it was away from his pursuers.

When he came upon a fork in the corridors, he did not ponder which direction to take and just randomly picked a direction. When he reached a staircase, he did not question where it led and simply flew up the steps. And when he came across a window, he did wonder whether he was on the ground floor or higher up, he simply hurled himself at the damn thing in a final leap towards freedom. His gamble paid off, as he bounced across the sidewalk and out onto the empty road. But he was not yet ready to savor his victory as he bounced back up on his feet and kept running, ignoring his new sets of bruises demanding his attention. Only once he was several blocks away did he dare slow down and assess the situation, while at the same time recovering some much desired oxygen to his burning lungs.

First, and most obvious choice for him, was to hightail it out of here and never look back. But he had been in the business long enough to recognize how lunatics like mister piggy worked, it was very doubtful that he would remain safe for long as long as that lunatic walked free. Besides, the bastard somehow tracked him down once before, who could say that he would not be able to repeat that feat? Besides, how big where the odds that he would just give up and- HOLY SHIT THOSE FUCKERS ACTUALLY FOLLOWED HIM! Without hesitation, he was off again as those weird doll thingies chased after him. That was the final straw for him, and he thus defied all his instincts and went looking for the one group he had worked so hard to stay away from: the cops.

Third night now since he found the corpse, and still no headway in finding this Professor Pyg. His usual shakedown of the criminal underworld had proven a complete waste of time to him. No matter how many bones he broke, no matter how many fingers he severed, no one had anything of value to reveal. Guess fear and intimidation was not that effective when your victims did not even know what you were after. Searching the city manually had been a waste as well. No matter how many hours of sleep he sacrificed, Los Angeles was simply too big for one man to search alone. But he was not about to give up now. If at first you don't succeed, try try again.

"Oi, Krieg, you there?" and it seemed like fortune was about to turn as he heard the commissioner's voice of the comm.

"I hear you," Krieg responded.

"Good. Listen, we just picked up a guy who claims that he's been held captive by a wacko in a pig mask. From what he's been able to tell us, his description matches Pyg, not to mention that he was being chased by what can only have been Dollotrons," and indeed, fortune had finally smiled upon him.

"Location?" Krieg immediately demanded.

"An old beauty salon on the east side of Los Angeles called Pretty Dolls Parlor. It's supposed to be closed due to its previous owner going bankrupt. With any luck, these mindless bastards forgot to inform their boss of what they were doing and he'll be completely clueless about what's going on. We're currently on our way there, and should arrive in 20 minutes,"

"I will be there in five," Krieg answered as he leapt off the roof and headed straight towards the coordinates. Once he arrived, he found an unassuming exterior, with the only exception being the shattered front window. Drawing his shotgun, Krieg stepped inside, to find the place in obvious disrepair. But vaguely, he could hear noise from further inside, so he pushed on. Every corner was thoroughly searched for hostiles, but he found nothing, not even when he descended the stairs into the lower floors. Just how sloppy was this Pyg? Irrelevant at this point, as he drew nearer to his target. How did he know that? Because he could clearly hear the music now, along with someone singing along.

Or rather, he assumed they were singing along, because that horrid noise sounded more like the wailing of a daemon to his ears. He passed by a collection of cages, idly noting that they were all empty but carried signs of recent usage. Which meant that the Professor more than likely had a supply of his Dollotrons ready and waiting. No matter, it would still end the same way. Finally, he found his target, hiding deeper inside the surprisingly complex underground structure. There he was, standing over an operating table inside a wide and circular room that would not have looked out of place on an Inquisitor's ship, dressed like a strange crossbreed of doctor and butcher with his silly pig mask hiding his face. Wait, he was not alone in there. Someone was strapped to the operating table, still alive if her cries and sniffles were anything to go by.

"Please stop, I beg you! I can't take any more!" she begged between ragged sobs, which elicited a series of disgusting sounds from Pyg that Krieg supposed was supposed to mimic those of a pig.

"No no no no! Pyg make it all better. Pain is just the body's way of saying thank you," the deranged Pyg answered as he continued his work. As for Krieg, he had heard enough and burst in, shotgun raised and aimed squarely at the Professor. A squeeze on the trigger, a rubber bullet to the shoulder. A second squeeze, a bullet to the head. And a third squeeze, but the bullet missed as the fat lunatic stumbled away from him while squealing like his moniker. Krieg was undeterred though as he marched forward, putting shot after shot into the disgusting pile of meat. But despite suffering obvious pain as he kept squealing, the bastard would not go down. In the end, Krieg ran out of bullets before he could put down Pyg.

"Please, help me!" the youngster still strapped to the operating table pleaded, causing Krieg to spare a quick glance her way. It was not a pretty sight, as her face had been mutilated into a crude caricature of a doll's face. A shame too that she had not died of trauma as well, because now she was a liability to his mission. Oh well, that could easily be rectified.

"Get out of here, girl, before you get further hurt," Krieg ordered as he drew his kukri and sliced off one of the arm restraints.

"Thank you, thank you," the girl sobbed out as fresh tears spilled out of her eyes.

"Your gratitude is unnecessary, just make sure you stay out of my way," Krieg answered as he sliced off a leg restraint.

"NO! You can't take her away! She's not ready yet!" Pyg suddenly cried out as he lurched to his feet, as if untroubled by the beating he had just taken.

"I would say you are," Krieg replied as he sheathed his kukri and reached for his ammunition.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no! She's all unique and wrong. All messed up, inside out. Pyg make her better! Pyg make all of us better!" the madman ranted, completely uncaring of the fact that Krieg was standing right before him with a shotgun.

"No, you are just a criminal, and I am taking you down," Krieg retorted as he began loading his shotgun.

"But Pyg can fix you too! Make you perfect! Like the others! Heeeeee hehehe!" Pyg implored, which suited Krieg just fine. Gave him more time to reload.

"Not after I am done with you," Krieg answered as he pushed in the last round.

"Bad, bad, bad. Heeeee! Pyg is like clay! Pyg is like God! Pyg is here to fix us all," and the madman just kept on rambling. No matter, Krieg had heard enough as he raised his shotgun and took aim.

"Look out!" right before the girl's warning had him turn around just in time to be tackled by a new combatant. Blasted thing was wearing a face similar to the girl's current looks. A Dollotron then. Well then, let's see how much of a beating it can take, Krieg mused as he flipped the damn thing off of himself before jumping back up on his feet. He gave his opponent no time to recover as he put a rubber bullet straight in the Dollotron's stomach before closing the distance to drive a knee up between its legs and an elbow to its face. But that hardly even seemed to face the Dollotron as it headbutted Krieg with enough force to break its own nose.

"Pyg make you invincible! Perfect and invincible! Dollotron feel no pain!" Pyg happily sang from the sidelines as Krieg continued to hammer the accursed thing. He ducked under a wild swing before coming up with an uppercut that knocked the thing back and gave him room to bring up his shotgun and place a rubber bullet right smack on its forehead. That seemed to finally put the creature down for good. Tougher than I had anticipated.

"Rise up, my precious! He cannot keep you down!" and then the Dollotron stood right back up, completely untroubled by its blood-drenched face. WAY tougher than anticipated.

"Annoying," Krieg grumbled as he knocked aside a fist before bashing it straight in the face with the butt of his gun. Temporarily stunned, Krieg rapidly closed the distanced to grapple with its right arm. Then, with a quick tug, he dislocated the shoulder while sweeping it off its feet and shattering its knee with a vicious stomp. And stay down.

"Encore! Encore! Show him how perfect you are!" but that was not the end of it, as Pyg's command had well over a dozen more Dollotrons swarming into the room. Where were they hiding up until now?

"Come on then," Krieg challenged, and they obliged. He put one bullet in one Dollotron's head, a second in another's knee, and a third into another's stomach. Then they were too close and Krieg resorted to melee. He ducked under a swing and brought his gun down on an exposed knee, breaking it with an audible crack before he rolled clear of a kick. He came back up to be met by the same one he shot in the head, now charging him like an enraged bull. Krieg sidestepped the charge and allowed it to keep on going until it knocked over one of its own comrades.

Something suddenly leaped onto his back, strong arms trying to wrap themselves around his throat. Krieg drew his grapple gun and fired it up into the roof, yanking himself up and free from the swarm of Dollotrons. Then he dislodged the grapple hook and let himself fall back to the floor, with the Dollotron on his back serving as cushion. Its grip slackened as they both slammed into the floor, and Krieg quickly pried himself free and stood back up. Just in time to take a fist to the stomach from yet another Dollotron. He gave it a good whack to the face with the shotgun that sent spit and teeth flying, but was forced back on the defensive as two more came charging in.

"There's no perfection without a little pain!" and Pyg just kept singing in the background as Krieg fought on. He tried to aim at the madman, to make him shut up, but a Dollotron jumped in between and took the shot meant for its master straight to the chest. That momentary distraction cost Krieg as he was hammered by a flurry of blows from two attacking Dollotrons. He lashed out with a kick to knock one back before sidestepping the second and giving it an elbow to the neck. Then another came charging in with a fist aimed at his face. Krieg caught it and slammed it back into its owner before sweeping the thing off its feet, right before taking a blow to the head from yet another Dollotron. He staggered back from the blow as his attacker pushed on, raining blows upon him that he barely managed to block or dodge in time.

"Destroy him so daddy can rebuild him!" then the Dollotron overextended itself, and Krieg acted quickly as he grasped the outstretched arm and threw the Dollotron over his shoulder, slamming it into the floor before giving a kick to the elbow with enough force to fracture the whole thing. Yet the damn thing still tried to attack him, even when he gave it a hard kick to the head. And then another came swinging at him, and Krieg had no more time to make sure his victim stayed down. He blocked an overhead swing as he gave it a firm punch to the gut, followed by grabbing it by the head and dragging it down into his waiting knee before throwing it straight into another advancing Dollotron. It finally bought him some breathing space.

"That's it! That's it! You're perfect!" Pyg sang as the Dollotrons picked themselves back up and fell into ragged lines facing Krieg. Even the ones with broken limbs were back up and ready for action, even as they were dragging along their useless limbs like unneeded baggage.

"Why won't you stay down?" Krieg growled out as he fumbled with his ammunition.

"Dollotrons never stay down, not anymore! The bad Bat always ruined it for Pyg, always took away his precious darlings! Oink, oink, oink! But not anymore! Pyg has found nice friends, friends that appreciate Pyg's work! They gave me knowledge, gave me the means to make my perfection eternal! Heeeeeee! Now Dollotrons will remain perfect forever, they will always be with Pyg!" the lunatic boasted as he did some form of happy dance. That caused an idea to spring into Krieg's head.

"So the process you put them through is irreversible?" he questioned.

"Yes, irreversible and eternal!" Pyg jovially announced, as if delighted that someone showed even the tiniest interest in his work.

"And this process, it has removed their ability to think independently, as well as their ability to feel anything, correct?" Krieg continued as he began loading his shotgun yet again.

"Yes, yes. Such useless, imperfect things. My precious Dollotrons has no need for such imperfection, not when they have Pyg to think and feel for them," Pyg answered with a bit less enthusiasm, as if he was growing suspicious by Krieg's sudden desire to chat.

"Then, from a technical standpoint, would it not be possible to say that these Dollotrons are already dead?" Krieg mused as the final cartridge was rammed in.

"By your broken idea of what living means, then I suppose you would be right," Pyg sneered at him. And behind his mask, Krieg felt the corners of his lips twitch ever so slightly upwards.

"Good," he stated as he raised his shotgun and fired a single shot at the nearest target, the buckshot shredding its face and blasting parts of its brains out the back of its skull. Before its body hit the ground, Krieg had already switched targets and sent another round into a new victim. The shot blasted part of the jaw clean off and ripped the cheek open all the way to the bone. Then a third shot was sent flying all but decapitating its target as it hit dead center in its throat and utterly shredding it. Fourth shot away, and only now had the Dollotrons started moving again when another of their numbers fell over with a third of its skull missing. Fifth shot fired, and it ripped a chest cavity wide open to expose the organs hidden within. Sixth shot splattered the floor with a Dollotrons mangled intestines, and then they were too close for the shotgun. Melee it was again.

Krieg sidestepped the first attacker while drawing his kukri. As the Dollotron turned to face him again, Krieg rammed the kukri straight into its neck before ripping it wide open in a burst of blood. Another Dollotron came at him, but Krieg jabbed it in the throat with his elbow hard enough to crush the Adam's apple. As that Dollotron fell over choking on its own blood, Krieg was already moving on to his next victim as he dodged under a clumsy swing before ramming his kukri into the underside of its skull and driving the blade all the way to the brain. Yet another Dollotron tried to take advantage of the distraction, but Krieg used the last round in his shotgun to blow apart the attacker's knee. And as he fell over from the loss of balance, Krieg stood ready to catch it in a tight headlock. A few twists back and forth, accompanied by an audible crack or two, and the Dollotron ceased moving for good.

"NOOOO! My Dollotrons! My darlings! You are ruining my work, you are destroying their perfection!" Pyg wailed from behind the safety of his slaves, but Krieg paid him no heed as he hacked and slashed his way through the mindless automatons. Funny, they no longer appear as dangerous now that I don't have to restrain myself.

"Come, you poor victims of madness. Come, and I will release from this torment," Krieg spoke as he dived headfirst into the mob of Dollotrons, shotgun in one hand and blood-drenched kukri in the other.

The gunshots alerted Adrian of intruders in Pyg's little shop of horrors, and that a frantic battle was being fought just above his head. And judging by the way that Pyg was squealing and wailing, he was willing to bet that he was losing badly as well. A shame, he and his Dollotrons had such potential. He would have certainly fit in well with the growing group of Slaaneshis. Alas, they could not afford to tip their hand just yet, so it seemed like poor old Pyg was going to serve as scapegoat today. Tragic, but necessary. At least Adrian had managed to keep the good professor in the dark about just who he had pledged his allegiance to. Neither the Light nor the Justice League would ever be able to get anything of value from him, no matter what extreme methods they employed.

"Fear not though, your art will live on," Adrian assured him, as if Pyg could actually hear him. Then he set about collecting the assortment of documents and formulas scattered about him. Pyg had been so kind to write down his work, so it should be no trouble finding someone else to continue Pyg's work. After all, an army of Dollotrons would be very useful in the coming war. But then a curious thought came to him: just who was it up there that was tearing through Pyg's supply of Dollotrons? He really should collect Pyg's work and leave before he was discovered, but he could not help his curiosity, so he reached out with his psychic powers to probe at the intruder upstairs. And ran headfirst into an impregnable fortress of hatred and devotion that sent him reeling back. He recognized that single-minded determination.

"Keled," he spat out like it was the most heinous curse in existence. That insolent brat that almost ruined everything for him twice over. Reason and logic took a backseat then as rage stepped to the forefront. He had reined in his anger, had postponed his revenge, had allowed that accursed boy live, all for the sake of the mission. But now, with the boy just within his grasp, he could no longer resist. The boy died today, he decided as psychic power began crackling between his fingertips and he strode towards the stairs.

"Going somewhere?" and promptly stopped dead in his tracks when he found his path blocked by a stranger, its identity hidden behind a hood and cloak. Odd, he had not detected a second intruder.

"Who are you?" he demanded to know as he looked the stranger over with a critical eye. Physically slim and small, hardly the most intimidating of opponents. And yet, there was something off…

"That's for me to know and you to never learn," she retorted, and it was most certainly a she now that Adrian could hear her voice.

"Then what are you doing here?" he instead asked, already preparing to obliterate her with a single spell.

"Stopping you and your daemonic masters from doing whatever it is you're doing," she answered, and Adrian would have suffered a heart attack then and there if this stolen body had still been in possession of a beating heart.

"What do you know, little girl?" this was very dangerous, very dangerous indeed. Had they already been compromised? How many others knew of their existence?

"That you're playing with powers far beyond your ability to control," the intruder warned, and that made Adrian laugh out loud. Great, another one of those self-righteous bastards.

"Brave and foolish talk from a dead girl," he taunted as he unleashed a ball of eldritch fire on her, watching with glee as she was swallowed up by the powers of the Warp. That smile then promptly vanished when the flames died down and she remained right where she was, completely unscathed.

"What…?" was the most eloquent response he could muster up.

"My turn," the intruder replied before she raised a hand from underneath her cloak, and then unleashed a bolt of pure darkness straight at him. Startled, Adrian hastily summoned a barrier to shield himself, but the bolt smashed right through it and sent him careening across the room. But the intruder was not done yet as she stepped fully inside, dark energy surrounding her like an ominous aura.

"What the hell are you?" Adrian spat out as he unleashed a blast of pure Warp energy at the girl, which hit nothing but empty air as she vanished and reappeared at another place.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he answered, right before every piece of furniture was encased in an ink-like darkness and hurled at Adrian. Growling in irritation, he summoned the powers of the Warp to himself and unleashed them in a shockwave that incinerated the projectiles and sent the girl flying into the wall with a pained grunt.

"Whatever you are, you've made a grave mistake challenging me, the master of the arcane," he boasted as he threw a bolt of burning energy at her, which washed harmlessly off a shield of dark energy that sprung up to protect her.

"Gee, someone's got quite an ego," she commented sardonically as a wave of her hand sent a crescent blade of darkness rushing towards Adrian, an attack which was battered aside by a blast of Warp energy.

"Don't you dare mock me, girl! I have gazed into the realm of the Gods themselves! I have studied their ways and learned their secrets! I am a god compared to you lowly mortals!" he screeched in rage as multicolored lightning danced across his frame before it was unleashed in a massive storm that ripped and warped everything in its path. The girl in turn raised her hand and summoned a barrier of pure darkness, taking the full force of the storm head on. She gritted her teeth from the strain while the barrier began cracking, but she stood strong even as the floor and roof around her was shredded.

"You're nothing more than a parasite, feeding on those around you to prolong your own miserable existence. You are no master of anything, you are just a frightened little man who can't accept that your time has long since passed," she stated, eyes closed in concentration as the very shadows around her seemed to come to life, rising up to shield their mistress. And yet still Adrian's onslaught continued to push her back.

"Silence, you worm! I have transcended death itself, and I have I walked with Gods made flesh. Compared to that, what do you know of the glory that is mine for the taking?!" he screeched in outrage, pumping more and more power into the storm of lightning. Suddenly, he felt something change, something very bad. The scarce light present in this room seemed to dim, the warmth slowly seeping away and leaving a bone-deep chill in its place. It was like something dark and sinister had just awoken.

"What do I know? Far more than you could possibly imagine," slowly, word by word, the intruder's voice grew deeper and darker. And when she opened her eyes again, Adrian found four blood red pits of hatred and malice staring straight into his very soul. Suddenly, he was no longer facing an amateurish witch meddling in his affairs, but a daemon in human flesh.

"Impossible…" Adrian whispered in horror.

"You wish," she answered sardonically. And now, it was Adrian's power being pushed back, as the intruder's onslaught of darkness surged forward with a thousand ravenous eyes glowing inside its depths.

"No! No! I will not fall here! I am immortal, I am the master of my own fate! I will not be cast aside like a mere pawn!" Adrian roared as he desperately tried to drive the darkness back with massive bursts of Warpfire that burned hot enough to turn solid stone into liquid goo.

"I don't know what is more pathetic, your obvious fear of your own mortality or that you actually believe the nonsense you're spewing," she commented right back at him, her darkness now encroaching upon her target from every direction, closing in like wolves circling a wounded prey.

"You can't beat me, witch! Do you hear me?! YOU CAN'T BEAT ME!" was Adrian's final scream of denial as he unleashed his power in a final shockwave of pure psychic energy. It would have been enough to turn men into piles of ash, but it only managed to push her back a few steps.

"I think I just did," she said as a wave of her hand sent the exhausted psyker hurling through the air and slamming into the wall with an audible crack. Adrian cursed as he tried to stand back up, but his broken body would not obey.

"MEND, CURSED FLESH, MEN!" he roared as he forced the few shreds of power left to heal the damage inflicted.

"Killing is something I deeply abhor, an action I try to avoid if possible. However, you've willingly torn and mutilated your soul to the point that you can no longer even be considered a living being anymore. I'll definitively not be losing any sleep for this tonight," his attacker commented as she raised a hand towards him, dark energy gathering in the palm, just waiting to be unleashed. For the first time in a long while, Adrian actually feared for his life. His condition was meant to render him untouchable to mortal means. Destroy the body, and he will just find another. But this girl, this witch… this daemon. Somehow, he knew that she could, and would, end his existence. Faced with his imminent doom, Adrian did the only thing he could do.

"Azkillon, my master! Save your loyal servant, don't let me fade away!" he screamed to high heaven. Something must have answered, for just as the intruder's dark powers began closing in on him again, another power burst into the room. He could hear the witch scream in pain as her darkness was swatted aside like an insect, right before he felt this new power wrap itself around him and drag him away. For a few fleeting seconds, he experienced the utter insanity that was the Warp, before he was roughly deposited on cold stone floor. Adrian rejoiced, for he could feel the Rift pulsing just behind him. He was back in their base, he was safe. But then he felt the suffocating pressure of his master's power bearing down on him in full force, forcing him to prostate himself on the floor like a lowly worm.

"For your sake, I do hope you have a very good explanation for this debacle, Adrian Forge," Azkillon warned. And suddenly, Adrian began wondering if maybe it would have been better to take his chances with the witch.

Now that Krieg thought about it, these Dollotrons did not pose much of a threat when he no longer had to restrain himself. They had no armor, no weapons, and acted like mindless automatons. So what if they were immune to pain? Not like it did them any good with a shotgun shell in their head.

"My Dollotrons, my darlings," Pyg wailed as Krieg drove his kukri through the eye socket and into the brain of the last standing Dollotron.

"And then there was only one," Krieg muttered as he turned towards the professor, picking up his shotgun and reloading it along the way. Realizing the danger he was in, Pyg bolted for the door. He did not get far as Krieg took aim and fired a single shot that blew his right knee to pieces.

"Do not worry, you will live. Assuming you make it to a doctor in time," Krieg commented bitterly as he approached the whimpering lunatic. As he came to a stop next to the quivering mass of flesh, he gave the professor a hard kick in the stomach to flip him on his back before planting his boot on his chest to keep him firmly pinned down.

"Now then, you mentioned friends in your previous rant. I want to know who they are," he demanded as he glared down at the filthy heretic.

"Pyg doesn't know, Pyg isn't supposed to know! Too important, too secret for poor newcomer Pyg to know! Heeeeee! Needed to prove my worth first, needed to prove that I could be valuable, that I could do better!" the maniac wailed. It grated on both Krieg's nerves and his hearing.

"Wrong answer," Krieg pointed out as he lowered the aim of his shotgun and blew apart Pyg's remaining knee. Sadism had never really appealed to Krieg, but there was something oddly satisfying at hearing this abomination scream in pain.

"Still don't know?" he inquired as his aim travelled upwards to rest at a very sensitive spot.

"No, Pyg don't know anything! Pyg can't tell you anything!" he all but shouted in desperation. Krieg was sorely tempted to keep going, just to make sure that Pyg really did not know anything, but his instincts were telling him that further interrogation would yield nothing. Besides, any further brutality, and Pyg might die of either trauma or bloodloss. Damn the Justice League.

"Then I would suggest you remain were you are until the police arrive to take you away. Further movements will only serve to worsen your condition," Krieg advised as he turned to leave, confident that Pyg would be unable to escape in time.

"That's it?! You're just gonna let him go?!" someone suddenly screamed at him in outrage. Turning to where the voice was coming from, he found the young girl he saved crawl out from under the operating table she had previously been strapped to. Huh, I had completely forgotten about her.

"I am not letting him go, I am handing him over to the authorities," Krieg replied, and was met with a glare of hatred and betrayal.

"Like that will do any good! He's been arrested before, he'll just escape again! The fucker don't deserve a cell, he deserves a bullet!" she screamed at him, tears beginning to gather in her eyes.

"This is not about deserving, this is about procedure. By the degree of the Justice League, I am prohibited from killing a living, sentient human,"

"Fuck procedure! Fuck the Justice League! And fuck you! That sick fuck should be dead! That bastard has ruined my life! I can't fucking go back to society with this kind of face! He needs to pay!" but the girl just kept screaming, letting her tears fall freely now. It annoyed him, but it made him turn his attention back to Pyg with a contemplative frown hidden behind his mask. Then he turned his attention back to the still crying girl and made a decision. She almost jumped out of her skin when he started walking towards her while drawing his kukri. A few hesitant steps were taken backwards as she eyed him and his weapon with growing trepidation. Then he came to a stop before her, his expressionless mask staring straight into her nervously shuffling eyes. That was when Krieg suddenly flipped the kukri around so he held the blade and offered it to her hilt first.

"Take action," he said, to her ever mounting confusion.

"What?" she found herself asking as she stared at him in incomprehension.

"Just a short moment ago, you voiced your dissatisfaction over how the Justice League operates. If it such a great issue to you, then do not simply stand on the sidelines and verbally complain, step up and take action. Do not wait for us to protect you, protect yourself," he explained to her. At first, she simply stared at him with wide and unbelieving eyes, as if she was trying to process what she had just heard. Then, she slowly raised her hands and grasped the kukri in a trembling grip, looking between it and Pyg.

"Police will be here any minute now, I suggest you make it quick," were Krieg's parting words before he turned to leave. He did not get far before someone grabbed onto his leg.

"You would not leave Pyg like this, would you? Pyg never hurts, Pyg heals, make works of art. Too much left to give, too early to die. Oink, oink, oink! You serve the Justice League, you save lives, you don't take them!" Pyg babbled as he desperately clung to Krieg's ankle.

"I am prohibited from taking your life, degenerate scum. But she is not," Krieg retorted, right before he delivered a kick straight to Pyg's face that sent his mask flying away and crushing his nose. And boy did he squeal from that. But Krieg did not care as he continued to walk out of the room, never once turning back. Even when he started hearing steel cutting into flesh, to be quickly drowned out by Pyg's screams of pain, he did not turn around. He just kept on walking.

As far as Killer Frost was concerned, this had been a real shitty day. Oh, it started off nice, with the break-out attempt coming sooo close to succeeding. But then it had all gone straight to hell thanks to that Martian bitch and her Super boyfriend. And now here she was, back in her cell with that thrice accursed inhibitor collar around her neck. Needless to say, she was in a really pissy mood. Even the image of that alien skank turned into a popsicle could not cheer her up. What she really wanted, or rather needed, was something to kill. Slowly and painfully if possible. Alas, to do that, she needed her powers. And to have her powers back, she needed to be free.

"God, I wish I was out of this stinking hellhole," she groaned to herself.

"Perhaps I may help you with that?" someone inquired of her. Killer Frost did not yelp in fright at the sudden voice, and she most certainly did not fall out of her bunk in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets.

"Relax, I'm here to help you," the voice spoke again once Frost had managed to get back up on her feet, her icy eyes glaring around her cell in mistrust.

"Then show yourself," she demanded of him.

"A bit hard for me to do at the moment, considering I'm not physically present. However, I can do this," and suddenly, where it used to be a solid wall, there was now a gaping maw that led into a swirling mass of colors and madness that made Frost's head hurt just looking at it.

"The fuck is that?" she asked as she stepped away from it, not trusting it for even a second.

"Your ticket out of here. It will take you somewhere safe where we can meet and discuss certain matters," the voice explained.

"Step into the swirling mass of weirdness because a voice in my head is telling me it's safe? Yeah, that doesn't sound suspicious in the slightest," Frost mocked, arms crossed defiantly over her chest.

"If you don't like it, then you're free to stay where you are. Looking forward to hearing from you whenever you make parole," the voice cheerfully answered, right as rapidly approaching footsteps could be heard approaching.

"Smartass," Frost growled as her eyes went to the bars of her cell.

"Well, what will it be? We're on a bit of a timetable here, and can't really wait all day," the voice urged on. With a scowl on her face, Frost kept glaring between the portal and the bars, weighting the pros and cons of each one.

"Aw fuck it! Go big or go home!" she finally declared before hurling herself headfirst through the portal. The second she passed through, it flickered and died like a candle deprived of oxygen, just before the guards came around the corner to behold an empty cell.