Manic.

Pawn's eyes widened from under his mask. She pushed herself from his grip and turned around while falling toward the grass. The last thing he saw were those unforgettable purple eyes. Then, from right beneath his feet, a dragon came flying from one of her shadow gateways. The perpetrator flipped off of the dragon's sharp teeth attempting to bite him, spinning through the air and then throwing both axes at the Beast. He managed to cut open its eyes, leaving bloody holes in the creature's skull.

The dual hatchets vanished once blinding the dragon, leaving Pawn to fall against its face. Wielding a newly-summoned two-handed ax, he raised it into the air and prepared to strike the Beast. Just before he could, two more Beasts in the form of angels ingrained with multiple eyes appeared at both sides, wielding golden spears.

"Gang up on him!" Kim commanded from below.

The winged angels shot their spears at their target. Just before the lances could pierce him, Pawn stepped away, still wielding that two-handed ax. The hatchet extended at the handle. With one swing, he mutilated the surrounding angels by their torsos, the blood from their innards having splattered against his right cheek. Intersecting the ax's sharpness into the dragon's teeth, Pawn slid down the creature's length, all the while manually slicing him apart until he reached the grass bed. Flipping off of the dragon before his soles were implanted against the ground, he split apart his hatchet and aimed to slaughter Kima before she could react.

Icarus jumped in front of her, unhinging his jaw to reveal three swirling lights shining from the back of his throat. Pawn was stunned, and because of that, he was punched right upside the head, thereby launching him into the air once more. He vanished from in front of Kim, reappeared right behind the perpetrator's body in mid-air, and kicked him back toward the ground.

'This guy isn't that tough. That being said, his ability intrigues me. If Jefferson or I manage to steal it, we can have more firepower to use against Alexander and Katie when the time arrives,' thought the Jester, hovering amid the sky.

He manifested again against the grass field, his hands hidden within his trench coat's pockets. Walking toward Pawn's body, he scratched his nape and hummed, opening one eye upon reaching his beaten build.

"Are we done here? I don't wanna deal with any small fry so… can you die already?" Chrollo asked his opponent.

"Would you like to know why I decided to take up this offer and attempt to slaughter you, Icarus Chrollo?" Pawn queried from within the grass.

'Not really but–'

"Sure. Not like I got anywhere else to be right now at the moment," Icarus replied.

"At least there's some part of you that's still admirable." Pawn sat up from his crater and removed the hood hiding his face. This was the first time Chrollo caught a glimpse at the assassin's face. He was dark-skinned, the same as Jefferson, however lighter ever still. "Allow me to inform—"

Then, Pawn smashed against the ground yet again; his mouth covered by Chrollo's prohibiting hand. His foot pinning the perpetrator, Icarus's apathetic features listened to his victim struggling while tearing off his right arm. Following his mutilation, the Jester now held the dismembered arm in one hand, his face and attire bloodied. He sniffled once and then threw the gory limb over his shoulder.

"Sorry about that. I don't care about your pathetic sob story. To me, you're just another pathetic rat waiting to get slaughtered."

Icarus smirked, glaring at his opponent's disfigured form through his inhibiting blackened strands with dull pupils. He stepped closer and bent over a second time, then plunging his palm into his defeated adversary's chest.

"Even with such an extravagant blessing, you lost to someone without a soul. How pathetic. Since this is the end, I'll tell you a secret. One I haven't even told… my insolent accomplices."

Once withdrawing his extremities from his rival's chest, there stood the glistening soul idle amid the palm. The spirit shaped into a blackened ball, thus permanently scarring Chrollo's lips with a smirk.

"Upon ingesting my victims' spirit, I steal their memories, abilities, and Vita—including their innate technique. For a time, I believed it useless to utilize any more powers instead of my technique. You see, half of my soul was destroyed when I fought with Ace Wilder and Katie Moon. However, your 'Phantom Thief' stores abilities after attacking the target enough times with the medium: your axes. After enough slashes, the power is stolen. That's such an irritating condition. On the other hand, I steal others' souls and eat them. Following my swallowing, the ability is added to my inventory and the technique is… extracted."

Icarus threw the stolen spirit into his mouth, swallowing without any resistance. His eyes widened. As previously stated, upon ingesting, the victim's memories, abilities, and Vita are transferred.

"Looks like you killed a lotta people! To think you stole all of their abilities, too. There must be dozens here. So many souls to toy with… Hehe~ how interesting…"

While Icarus had been dealing with Pawn, more assassins appeared to challenge Natalia and Jefferson.

"Do these guys even know what they're fighting for?" Nat asked, instinctively throwing herself back.

"Guess not…" Jeff replied, steadying his footing.

'Mimic: Black. Directional Copycat - Death's Source.'

The two dashed forward and clashed with both assassins. Jefferson's opponent was female, as observed from their bust and long grey hair. He kicked at her face, to which her arm raised and she used her free hand to aim her fist toward his bearded face. He slapped her punch away, grabbed her by the waist, and slammed her against the grass. His foot raised---seconds before his sole could squash her face, she rolled away.

Stumbling into a tall-standing stance, her fists raised once more, and she started inching closer. Formulating a shadow blade from nothing, he aimed the sword ahead, pointing one hand ahead. He beckoned her forward with one movement. She obeyed. However silently, she ran, now branding her newly-furnished skin shaded grey to match metal's gradient.

'She can solidify her skin into metal? Is it just her arms or can it be anywhere?'

She punched past his face. A scrape staining his right cheek, he zipped ahead and simultaneously slashed his sword at her arm. The metal extended to her shoulder, to which she caught his wrist and pushed him away with one slap. The shadowy blade he welded had fallen from his hands--but he'd managed to witness something interesting.

'It's not just one area. She can spread the metal across her skin unconditionally. If I'd only copied Death's Source, I'd be dead right now. Luckily for me, though...'

One week before this fight, incomprehensible red lightning bolts flashed by his face. That unforgettable feat Ace had achieved all on his lonesome... how could he forget? Jefferson's eyes changed; his Vita started increasing. The female assassin's wide-eyed expression slowly dissipated once she spotted him assuming another stance. The metal reached down both limbs and eventually ended at her hands.

'I'll bombard her with superior speed and imbued attacks before she realizes what's happening. Thank you, Ace Wilder. You showed me the way.'

She swore he started smirking the moment she initiated combat once more, having sprinted ahead, jumped into the air, and kicked at his skull. He easily ducked under her attack, dragging his arm across the ground to punch at her chin. Once she landed, her legs split and she grabbed Jefferson by his shirt's collar, interlocking her legs around his neck. She started choking him... but his dull eyes had another idea. Instead of relinquishing his will here and perishing at this pathetic assassin's hand, Darrell glared over his shoulder.

"Bloody Individual."

With one simple invocation, they'd suddenly switched places, and Jeff's legs had enchained the woman's throat. Instead of choking her, he clasped both limbs against her head and launched her over his head; across the grass field. He vanished from his seat against the grass, now sprinting around to catch her flailing body with a charged punch digging into her gut.

The attack blew her in another direction--he ran after her flying body yet again. His legs subconsciously threw him against the ground. Presently, the next second that'd pass, he'd already reach her. In this little world of speed, he reigned supreme--for she was utterly powerless to counterattack. Instead of perpetuating this needless conflict any further and punching her another time, the second he bypassed her, she was... beheaded.

'I don't have any time to deal with small fry so I'll kill you. I hope you can forgive me.'

In real-time, the moment her corpse collapsed into the grass, he'd already run past. Noticing Natalia fighting her opponent from his peripheral, he went for the plane. Within seconds, he was sitting in the pilot seat, having already finished checking the remaining length. The door to the cockpit closed behind him. Before he knew it, Rizia had revealed themself, now with a Glock pointed to the back of his head.

"You're here, too, huh?" he asked.

"Uh-huh. Wanna chat? We go way back, after all," they answered.

"I'd rather not. Cuz, you see, Kosuke, even if you did pull that trigger... you'd be killing a man who lived without regret," Jefferson declared, smiling at his would-be executioner.

They clicked their tongue. Removing the barrel from his skull, they snickered. To Darrell's surprise, what replaced that arrogant smile was now a sinister smirk.

"Are you sure about that?"

Just before he could ask what that meant, he was yanked from within the cockpit. Thrown out the front windshield, he tumbled across the field and regained composure after rolling onto his knees. After momentarily searching his surroundings, he noticed no enemies around him--only Natalia fighting her battle. He redirected his attention toward Rizia, still visible from this angle, locked inside the cockpit. The two aimed their weapons in unison; by the time Kosuke had raised theirs, their fate was sealed.

Replacing their chest was blood. A hole, revealing dangling intestines and displaced innards. In their final moments, Riz stifled another snicker before collapsing against the wall and sliding to their bottom.

"Regret, huh?" Remembering what they'd lived for up until their present demise, the former Harbinger chuckled at the irony. "I've forgotten what that feels like..."

An image of Callum Rivers streamed through Riz's mind as they recounted their life. Their eyes finally closed, relinquishing their spirit to walk Hell's barren wastelands for all of eternity. Rizia Kosuke was dead.

Jefferson, having dealt with the former Harbinger, resorted to searching for whoever yanked him from the cockpit. He needn't look far—his red eyes trailed up the plane in front of him, finally reaching the perched girl and her glowing white hair flowing with the wind.

"June…"

She jumped from her perched stance. What he expected… wasn't a hug as tight as her arms could muster, entangling his neck while sobbing into his neck.

"I don't want to fight anyone anymore… not Katie… not you… I just want things… to go back to the way they were…"

Her lamentation into his neck was unfortunate. While he was reluctant to do so, he knew it was his duty to stop Katie, no matter what. His hands slipped onto her shoulders, removing her face from brief within his neck.

"I know how you must feel. But… we have a duty! We've been gifted these abilities for a reason. We can't just sit back and do nothing while Katie massacres the rest of the human race! I'm sorry to say this, June, but you're either with us or against us."

He'd expected her to step back, maybe the mission held too much pressure for her. However, what he didn't expect was the way she looked at him. He seemed to witness it firsthand. Within her emerald eyes cursed with Rivera blood, there glistened but one light brighter than all: Dark Determination. Running away wasn't an option for someone like her.

"Then let's go."

That being said, it was still a shocker. Would she want to go out there and kill against the people who'd cared for her? She'd throw away her youth for the sake of others' lives… he didn't believe it fully until she said it for herself; loud and proud.

"Let's save everyone!"

But she wasn't the only one surprisingly switching sides. Having finally finished his forceful venture across the sky, Ace crashed into an abandoned city's lone buildings. He tumbled out the structure's front door after falling through all the floors from the rooftop, repeatedly bouncing against the road until his eventual stop in a gas station storefront.

When he came to, he'd finished subconsciously wandering through the messy store and exited through the front door. Ace's chest rose and fell following his heavy breathing, gazing ever further through his bloody wounds to his swordsman opponent standing before him.

"You look unwell. Are you sure you'll be able to fight properly against me? You could heal those injuries with Rejuvenation but it'd probably cost most of your Vita considering they're such big wounds. So… what'll you do?" The Crow questioned.

"What a stupid question."

Ace raised his hand, silently activating his Rejuvenation technique. Expectedly, the Crow dashed forward, still wielding his mechanical gauntlets as sharp as a talon's claws. Seconds before the attack hit, the ginger had suddenly vanished.

"Tch."

The Detective sighed. Now standing where his redheaded opponent previously did, he glanced over his shoulder and spotted him standing idly in the street. After walking across the gas station's vicinity, he positioned himself right across Ace's build. Pointing his right arm forward, the Crow's claws glistened under the sunlight.

Removing the shades covering his crimson-marked eyes, Wilder asked, "Are you fighting with the intent to kill?"

"Aren't you?" retorted the Detective.

"I suppose so. How about we make a deal here, unc? If you win, then… I'll join your alliance with June and we'll set off to slaughter Katie and Alex with you," Ace suggested.

Azazel began lowering his arms, gazing straight ahead at Wilder's youthful features. "What're you talking about? Aren't you the number one advocate for slaughtering the rest of the world?" he queried.

"I used to be. But… recent events… give me pause. For a while now, I've been deluding myself. Slaughtering innocents, trying to be a hero—no matter how many people I try to save, it doesn't make up for the selfish behavior I've so often displayed. I don't want to be like that anymore. I love Katie and Alex with all my heart. That's why I can't let this persist any further. I'm the one who saved her way back when. I should also be the one burdened with the responsibility of ending her. For the sake of the future of humanity… I should be the one to kill Katie Moon," Ace confessed.

Shadows covered Azazel's eyes. Raising his head, his spiky hair jolted; his hands removing the gauntlets he donned. At the end of his action, he found himself unarmed. Without weapons, he pointed his body forward and threw two fists ahead. The springtime's cool wind blew away the stray strands hiding his eyes' blue glow.

"Have you ever killed someone that ticks you off? It feels…

Better than I expected."