Clown

"Turns out we didn't know as much as we thought we did when we first got here. Like on the Island, they, too, have their law enforcement here. They're called the 'Meta Registration Group' (MRG), and their soldiers are named 'Enforcers.' Who runs them is the Bureau and at the top of the Bureau is the 'Head.' He's personally responsible for overseeing the Capital itself, and though that is so, he takes liberty in personally seeing rogues take retribution when put on trial. When their punishment is chosen, they'll be taken to Paradise; the prison off the coast of the Capital to the east. Its waters are surrounded by remnant beasts so the only way to get there is by air. I haven't scoped out the prison yet, so I can't say I know where Ace is but based on pure speculation- I assume he's on Level 0, below the water."

June watched as Kate pointed the pocky box to her, taking one of the sticks out of the container, she plucked it between her lips, crunching the snack with her abundance of teeth. Embers flying elsewhere, chewing around the fragments, she turned her head right toward her cousin across from her,

"So, whatcha think? Got a game plan already?" Asked the white-haired wielder of Convergence, swallowing what she'd been given, satiating hunger's faint roar within her stomach's pit.

"Course not, it's only us two. Together, we're powerful, but we need more strength. And it's not like putting up flyers in the street's gonna work. Hmm... you said Kima left you and Ace, right? Got any idea where she is now?" June shook her head to her cousin's question, leaving Moon to scratch her chin and chortle, pointer's finger cracking her thumb's knuckle unleashing a satisfying snap effect,

"Bummer, too. I wanted to find and kill 'er for abandoning you two like that. Not to mention steal her artifacts. Speakin'a which, she still got uncle's sword?" Katie intoned curiously, patting at her head with her hand, she grunted, an indistinguishable muttering exiting her lips inaudible to June as she spoke over her,

"I heard the Ketsueki got found and added to the Bureau's collection, same with the Key. I suggest we allocate the blade and the Key. That way we don't need other people," June offered an alternative to a problem that didn't have a solution, but even still, Kate scratched at her chin with a singular extremity.

"That could work, but it'd prob'ly take a few to locate those things' whereabouts-" Katie was intruded via her cousin's youngish vocals suddenly questioning,

"I forget how impatient you are," June remarked, speaking out her mouths' sides, puckering her lips to the right,

"S'not that. You said Ace killed around 300 innocent civilians, whether it was accidental or not doesn't matter. Whether it's Riverton or the Capital, there's no doubt he's getting the death sentence. So, we need to act fast... before he runs outta time."

Unknown to the two, as they deduced a new orchestration to break their relative pit of the underwater prison of Paradise, an unknown variable had heard everything. Wearing that striped hoodie, letting her brown hair move with the wind as her lips were painted with red, she turned her head and only said but one word…

"Bingo."

He could feel the air getting thinner with each passing moment, every new second the time wasted with a nap as his tanned eyelids shut over Divergence's red glow. Those trains automatically blinked emerald, just barely, an emerald coloration could be faintly sensed through that which blinded him. At long last… as his fingers rubbed at his wrists with an exhausted moan exhaling out his mouth, he attempted to reach his limbs further into the air, but there was a sting in his nape. The slightest electrical bolt could barely be visible to the camera engraved into the padded chamber's corner, leading Ace only to turn his head as he only scratched his neck's rear.

That which laid behind those cameras, the worker donning a black trench coat with all fingers interlocked, a surplus of monitors revealing Paradise's inner workings. Convicts on the upper-most layer walking around with trays in hand, others taking seats at tables. Needless to say, it was rather... inconsequential and boring- well, at least compared to such threats like Wilder, not to mention the remainder of the Rate S metas locked on Level Zero.

"I'm surprised. Whenever I stare at that, I get so sick in just a matter of 30 minutes. How you can stomach gazing at those monsters knowing what they've done; I can only imagine what kinda person you are... Doctor Chrollo,"

The chair's wheels slid him back as his hands provided a force against the table's edge, grabbing with his palm's centers, he stood tall, and flicked out his tie, letting his locks, previously kept into a ponytail, fall over his shoulders. Adjusting his collar as the subordinate continued to laugh politely, Chrollo swept his strands back with but a powerful push, effortlessly letting them fly back only momentarily before letting them drape over his back. Though it was but a glimpse, he still couldn't believe his eyes. Had he witnessed the truth or was that simply a chimera illusion? But a hallucination after not being deprived of slumber thanks to last night's unfortunate curse? All possibilities never got the chance to fully meet the day's light, for the life was snuffed out the young man with an easy backhand to the cheek.

Eyes rolling to the head's back, blood splurting out barely-open lips, an echoing snap bellowed out his neck's side, to which Icarus couldn't help but stare at his victim's corpse. As stated earlier, the slap to the face had not knocked the target unconscious, but snapped his neck in the process, rendering him immediately deceased, however, the attack, by all means of the word- wasn't silent. The moment he rose from the kneeled posture, analyzing the sufferer's pockets, he turned his head, noticing the light leaking in from the golden corridor, illuminating the darkened security room. Those rifles charged with bullets that intended not to damage or simply incapacitate, but kill, he couldn't help but glare at them all. But frail attempts at keeping those dominant in check, for all he could do in the face of such pure powerless was smugly reveal a smirk. For he dared not even to turn his body fully to face them, instead, he revealed his hand from the spot it was kept at... his body's side.

"You're all pathetic."

Like a magnet drawn to metal, the pointer snapped to the thumb, connecting like a spider spinning a web, they all glared with fear in their eyes for their former superior as he simply did but one action that held no damage to their bodies. Even then, for reasons unknown to them all, it was like a centipede crawling up their spines, unable to shake it off. That indescribable feeling of existential dread, that the second they looked into his black eyes or noticed that Sigil glowing blood-red engraved onto his hand's back... they knew, without a shadow of a doubt.

They were going to die.

As his hands dug into the buns of a burger, it was destined to meet that fate, the patty and bread inhaled into his mouth so he could seep his teeth into this food. Despite the horrible taste, Ace couldn't help but cherish his existence, for the very fact he still lived despite his sins was, needless to say... unbelievable. This wretched excuse of food, the chatter of lunatics, a hollow cell. What he did was 'wrong', there was no doubt about that. For if it weren't fact, why else would he be here? They were righteous in putting him here, but there was something so horrible peeling away at the seams of his mind- maybe all that time inside that cell was driving him mad- but, even now, five months later, he felt nothing for the lives he so swiftly snuffed out that day.

That pact he'd made for the price of accessing more of Divergence's power, had it been worth it? Kima had all but left him, June was on her own, Katie, Alex... who knows? Would she ever return, would he ever get the chance to locate his mentor, alive or not? How did it all go so wrong so fast? In the end, he couldn't help but damn himself to Hell, for he was the same as those he, himself called demons. Incapable of feeling anything but the determination in his heart driving him further to achieve that higher goal. The power to persist - Determination. Was it a curse to be human, in nature, to continue moving forward without faltering or turning your head in judge of your character?

"I can't help but wonder what you'd say, if you were here... Dad."

A faint plea of guidance slipped out his cracked-pink lips, thinking back to memories of events that occurred in a world that no longer existed, he leaned back and put his hand on the blindfold's tie on his head's rear. Words of another began to resurge, but before he could focus and listen, there was an echoing voice, one he recognized from the past, not too far, though.

"Go wild,"

Though it sent chills down his spine, he couldn't help but be soothed by the nature of those vocals. As the binds unraveled, Divergence's scarlet coloration shined, like the sun blessing the Earth's inhabitants on spring's gracious days. Grinning from ear to ear, he cracked at his pointer knuckle's side with but a push from the thumb, moaning at the pleasurable touch, a giggle relinquished its hold on him and poured out his lips.

The doors to the cafeteria spread wide, soldiers wearing shields and batons crackling with electricity, all with different builds stared down the many lunatics of the lowest layer. Just before the opposing sides went charging ahead at their foretold enemies, Ace, not to mention his tons of allied prisoners, heard but one last instruction before they carried out the order given.

"Make it a big show."

The notes of an opera choir started to cry out as the beasts that lay in waiting outside this very dome foamed at the mouth just begging to sink their teeth into new treats, bordering on the line between the Evolutionary's jurisdiction and the Remnants' chaotic outskirts. Ace couldn't help but smile as the blackened tendrils of darkness poked out his spine, tips sharpening as they only elongated further, those delicious looks of pure dread that painted their expressions- there was nothing tastier than that.

"You looked like... you needed saving."

"Heh... you were right about that, brother."

Scratching at his temples with nails that shifted to claws tearing at his dry skin, blood dripped out his nostrils, just begging to get but a drop of fresh air to slick back his hair, Ace snarled at the sting he'd just so abruptly received at his head's center. The horde only grew larger like a painting widening when hungover at a museum... museum. Just the slightest thought of that day, that horrid Thanksgiving that put him here, in this godforsaken place. There was but one thing he could do, and as he pounced ahead, baring his fangs at those who dared, he could only yell but one thing like those same psychotics he dared to damn in the first place,

"I feel so goddamn SICK!!"

To Be Continued.