Texas - There are no strings on me. (strings_on_me) wrote in elsewhere_rpg, @ 2017-10-10 09:41:00 |
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A few hours ago, York had left with Ed to go down to Earth, to buy some clothes for them all, after having lost them to tribbles. When he came back through the doorway of their barren apartment, it was with a bag of clothes, but no Ed attached to his hip, and that one blue eye was a little wider than normal. Now, York was a calm man by nature, who took everything in stride. So to see him show that little bit of panic? Well, it had to be telling. “I lost him.” He said immediately to North, the bag dropped uselessly near the door as he came forward to his taller companion. “I lost Ed. We were on Earth and he just faded. He just vanished right there in front of me.” He sounded like he was asking for help of some sort, as if somehow North Dakota could make this all better, like somehow he could bring York’s surrogate little brother back because he willed it. “Delta said he made some sort of dimensional shift. He just vanished from Earth-- D thinks maybe he was brought back here, or sent back home.” Help him. Please. *** Ed had once assured North that cooking was easy. Like a science, really, you mixed a combination of things together by precise measurements over a stove for a determined period of time and food came out of it. Edible food. York had completely failed to understand what that meant in every single one of his attempts at cooking. So, naturally, North took over. North took over when York wasn’t bringing back bags of takeout for half of Knowhere’s population. That was where he was when York came home, sans Ed. He was in the kitchen, his blonde hair having grown out long enough to fall just vaguely into his eyes so he kept sweeping it away, looking down at a recipe with interest while Theta stood off to the side playing with his skateboard. When York came inside, North looked up and smiled. Up until his eyes met that panicked blue eye. The Freelancer’s expression dropped immediately, instinct took over, so he set the mixing spoon down, stepped around the island counter and intercepted his friend as York came closer. Hand on the shorter Spartan’s bicep, he held firmly and directed him by main force toward their shared bedroom before he answered. Even then, he closed the door behind themselves for assured privacy, because no one needed Alphonse to walk on in during the middle of a conversation like that. Once there, the taller man reached up to frame York’s face, looking into that wild blue eye, “Take it easy, York, tell me what happened.” One thing was for sure, Ed wasn’t here. At least, he hadn’t come back to the apartment if he was. *** The shorter Spartan looked like he wanted to fall apart into panic, but he somehow managed to keep himself under control, except for the look in his eye. He was tugged into that bedroom, the door closed behind them, but York hadn’t ever let his attention stray from North, like the taller man was grounding him. He was. Those hands came to rest on his cheeks and both of York’s hands found North’s shirt and gripped. He needed that strength. “We were sitting outside. We had ice cream. He said it tasted good.” Ice Cream. Novel. York had only had it once in his life and he remembered it being incredible. He’d wanted to share it with Ed. “Then he started to.. Fade. He became transparent in places, my fingers went through him. Delta said he was making some sort of dimensional shift. And then he was gone. Just gone, North.” His hands tightened a little and he pulled some on that t-shirt his friend was wearing, stretching it out some (sorry). “I lost him.” He’d never lost anyone like that before. Not needlessly. Not without cause. Not without the other person fighting as they went down. It had been so upsetting because there was nothing the Spartan could do. He’d had to just sit there and watch. He’d calmed himself. He’d told Ed not to panic. He’d told him not to worry, that he would find him, that he’d bring him back home, that it’d all be okay. And now, standing here with North, he was suddenly concerned the same thing might happen to him. *** I lost him. North’s grip tightened just a little bit, he leaned to press his forehead to York’s, “It wasn’t your fault,” he said calmly. “There was nothing you could do,” and that was the hardest reality of all. Sometimes there was nothing you could do in any situation, except to sit and watch it happen. They were both familiar enough with the concept and the reality. North remained standing, allowing York to take whatever he needed, to give his strength where he could. He did lower his hands from the other’s face, wrapping both his arms around York’s shoulders, holding him close when he finally brought himself around to say what came next. “He didn’t come back to the apartment,” he said calmly, “We can go down to the Passport office and see if his is still active.” Still active. If it wasn’t, he’d definitely gone. Maybe he’d gone home. If he’d gone home, then there was nothing either of them could do for real. But then they’d know. And by knowing, you could defeat your fear. *** With North so close, the Golden Boy was able to relax a little more, still holding onto that cotton and refusing to let go. Then those arms wrapped around him and his grip slowly loosened. York had always been the one to carry people, the one to be strong, and be the rock, to make jokes when there was no other alternative. He’d always been the one who held his team up. But North held him up, along with South. Sometimes the Big Apple regretted that, but it wasn’t often. Now wasn’t one of those times. North was always unfailingly calm and reassuring, he had a far more steady temperament, where York leaned more towards the manic side of calm. It’d been these two men who’d kept the Freelancers from devolving into The Lord of the Flies. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He said more quietly. Their proximity demanded softer tones. His eyes slipped closed. Home. Maybe Ed was sent home. Maybe they’d all be sent home. Then what? He’d go off to his death, at Tex’s beckon call, and North would go back to his sister-- and his eventual death at her hands, not that any of them knew that yet. “I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to freak out like that, but he was once again calm, thanks to North’s gentle, practiced motions. He’d keep himself together. He could do that. It was easy to fall back into old habits. “Let’s go.” After North turned off the stove, that was. No one needed half of Knowhere burned down. *** It was true, generally, that York took care of everyone. But who looked after the caretaker when the caretaker was too busy not considering himself? North did. North, because North knew that even the strongest person couldn’t be strong all the time and that sometimes you needed someone to pat your back and ask if you were okay. He was good at being that person, one that was steadily present for as long as you needed. So he remained steadily present for as long as York needed, until the Spartan had calmed down, started thinking objectively again instead of emotionally. He stood there with York in his arms until the darker blonde spoke. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, York,” he assured him, “you were scared and that’s okay.” Afraid he’d lost a boy that meant the world to him. Anyone would freak out, and while Spartans weren’t anyone, York still had shreds of humanity inside him. He slowly released his friend from his grasp and nodded his head, “Alright, let’s go find out what’s happening. Then we’ll see to Alphonse..” What were they going to tell him if Ed wasn’t here anymore? North didn’t allow the conflict to show in his eyes. He just gave York an extra moment to pull himself together before he nodded and turned to open the door, leading the other soldier out into the night of Knowhere (but not before he turned the stove off!). *** York nodded once, indicating he was fine, then he moved after North and into the darkness, closing up the door behind. Alphonse was surely tucked away into his room, reading. They wouldn’t be missed. He fell into step beside North-- quite a feat, considering their five inch height difference, but a lot of York’s height was in his legs, so the two men had the same stride. It made missions far more simple when the two of them worked together, because they could count paces and seconds while running, and know they’d meet up at exactly the same spot on the other side of any obstacle. Somehow, Knowhere seemed a little darker. A little quieter. But the night was still, it was almost hot, and the two Spartans were silent as they walked. Delta had flickered to life over York’s left shoulder and was silently conversing with Theta about what had happened, so the other AI would be able to relay the specifics to North without having to trouble York with explaining all of it. The light from the two AIs lead the way, as most of the street lamps had been destroyed by Tribbles. As they arrived at the passport office, York pulled the door open for North and stood aside to let his friend enter first, then stepped in after him, chin lifted some. They certainly weren’t going to like the answer they got, when they got it: the passports were malfunctioning and they couldn’t tell if people were on Knowhere or not. It was that knowledge that surely would spur Mustang into searching for his Lieutenant instead of accepting she’d be sent him-- or elsewhere. “Are you here about someone disappearing?” The woman behind the counter, with blue hair, sounded annoyed. *** No one troubled them in passing. No one ever did. Not here or on any other planet, outpost, or colony they’d ever crossed. They were Spartans and that set them apart from everyone large or small. Terrifying if you didn’t know them personally, given their size, given the things they could do. The crowd parted way for them wherever they went. They weren’t hindered in their path to the passport office. North stepped inside ahead of York and when they pressed into the que of bodies and the relative chaos going on around them, North already knew the answer wouldn’t be a positive one. There were too many people inside. Knowhere was being overrun with movement after the evacuation. Of course the passports would malfunction again. Even so, the steady soldier glanced aside at his friend and when they were finally able to meet someone behind a counter, he stepped ahead of York to take control of the moment. “We are, yes,” he agreed mildly, both hands coming down to splay across the counter, “Edward Elric. He disappeared from Earth,” he explained. “Just before he was scheduled to return here to Knowhere.” The woman continued regarding the pair with flat eyes. “Unfortunately the Passports are experiencing a technical malfunction. The team is working on resolving the problems, but the tracking system is down,” she reported, sounding annoyed as she looked. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience. You’re going to have to wait like everyone else.” Wait. Wait for what? North furrowed his brows. They’d have to wait and see? Neither of them were good at that. They were soldiers used to clear answers. Direct problem solving. There was no waiting around except between missions. North glanced at York. *** York clearly didn’t like that answer. He stepped up to stand beside York, a veritable wall of Spartan, shoulder-to-shoulder, leaned in to stare at that indifferent woman. They were nothing short of intimidating, North with his height, York with his scarred face and missing eye, both of them with their considerable bulk. “My friend and I aren’t very good at leaving things to chance, ma’am. It’d be very much appreciated if you’d give us some indication of another route we might be able to take. Maybe we could check the standard areas that travelers return to? Do you have a list of transport locations on Knowhere?” His eyebrows went up some. The woman stared blankly. But, after a moment, she turned and grabbed a small flyer from her desk, and pushed it across to them, to North’s flat-pressed hands. “Next.” She called past them. York straightened up some and turned to look at his friend. At least those places would be somewhere they could start. Some place they could look for the missing Alchemist. They couldn’t just sit around, after all. Waiting was the worst. *** North looked from the woman down to the paper she’d passed to him, taking it in hand. He regarded it then her, before he nodded his affirmative. “Thank you,” he said and somehow managed not to sound sarcastic. He was a good person, after all. But he wasn’t perfect. North turned and with York, they pressed back through the growing crowd, his eyes scanning the list of locations and an unexpected advertisement that had found its way to the bottom of the page. The passports malfunctioned enough that the Wizard Dresden found lost people enough of a problem in Knowhere to make a business of looking for them. North’s lips curled into a slight smile. Lost items found. “We can ask Harry,” he said, “Didn’t he find Ed once before?” North asked. *** “We can ask Harry.” York agreed, suddenly brightening up. He elbowed his friend. “Come on.” And with that, the dirty blonde was taking off at a run for Harry’s lab and apartment. No one dared to get in their way, people moved. Of course they did. They parted like the red sea as the two Spartans barreled towards the edge of the town and the apartments found there, back towards home. A home that they passed on their way to the large building half a mile off. As they neared those double doors, York pulled up and slowed, just enough so he could yank open the doors and head inside. “Harry?” He yelled out, jogging into the massive lab and looking around. “Mouse? Harry, you here?” No answer in the lab, he headed up those stairs with heavy steps. “Harry?” He called again, tugging open the door to the apartment (why wasn’t it locked?) and stepping inside. “Hey, Harry, we need your help!” He called out, moving immediately for the office he thought the tall man might be in-- but Texas stepped out of a room first, her chin lifted and cold eyes set to the other two Freelancers. “He’s gone.” She answered without hesitation. It made York’s face fall a little. Harry was gone. Ed and Harry. Who else? Oh. Fuck. Briefly, his eyes closed and he took a breath. Right. They just needed a way to find them. They needed to focus on that. Who else knew magic? Someone had to-- The General. General Mustang knew Alchemy, maybe there was some sort of summoning.. Something? “We should find General Mustang.” The golden boy told his taller friend. “He might be able to help.” *** Back through Knowhere they ran, down lanes, across the residential quarters and toward the warehouses. Not the least bit out of breath, North had fallen a step or two behind York out of habit, because York was the point man. The shorter blonde reached the lab two seconds before North did, but he followed behind close enough the wizard’s wards didn’t react poorly to their presence. North followed York’s lead, up a staircase at the back, into the apartment where Theta buckled down and went silent in his bid to keep himself and his host alive. When Texas stepped out, pale eyes met pale eyes and North’s heart sank a little more. Gone. Who else? He looked aside at York, reaching a hand out to touch his friend’s shoulder. They were used to loss. York had lost his entire unit once, down to the last man. North had been in similar straights before. But this felt.. Different. “Okay,” he agreed. Would York hold if General Mustang was gone, too? He was worried for his friend. He squeezed the shorter blonde’s shoulder then looked at Texas. “How long has he been gone? What happened?” He asked. They had to know if it was similar. Otherwise they could be dealing with separate things. “Ed’s gone, too.” Meanwhile, half a mile away, General Roy Mustang was gearing up to burn Knowhere to the ground. He’d woken up to an empty apartment and no signs that Hawkeye would return. He was already halfway to the lab, the last place he’d check for her to be before he knew something was amiss. *** Texas crossed her arms over her chest, regarding the two of them flatly, but her eyes lingered on York a few seconds before they settled on North. “About an hour. We were making dinner.” Yeah. Making dinner. Yep. Ahem. “He started fading.” They’d both freaked out a little. Harry was lucky he’d gone to Elsewhere wearing any clothes at all, ‘cause Tex had stripped him mostly bare by the time he’d begun fading. “Then he was gone.” It’d been more complicated than that, but she wasn't going into details, thanks. “If Ed’s gone, there’ll be more gone. You shouldn’t count on Mustang still being here.” Uncrossing her arms, she moved past the two of them to the front door, then out. “Come on.” The weapons were downstairs with their armor. Their armor and weapons. Yeah. They’d need those. Because if they were anywhere on Knowhere, the Spartans were going to find them. It didn’t take but a few moments to grab a gun (or five) each, before the small group was heading out of the lab-- and nearly running directly into a rather displeased looking General. Tex drew them to a stop and lifted an eyebrow at him, not that he could see it through the reflective visor. York came a step around and closer to him, leaving Tex and North a few steps behind. A hand pressed to the side of his helmet and it unlatched, then he took it off and turned that single blue eye onto his friend. “You’re still here-- have you seen Ed, sir? Or Harry?” They were missing. Like Riza. *** Harry didn’t know when his lab and apartment became an armory for giants. But he had, somehow, ended up housing all three Spartan’s armor and their weapons. Harry had looked at them once or twice, impressed with the sheer size of the dual sniper rifles that North favored and the other guns neatly shelved or mounted to the walls. Every time the wizard had looked, it was all nice and ordered down in the lab, which made it easy for the trio to dress down then back up inside their armor. They were quick. Efficient. And then the mechanical behemoths were moving. Mustang entered the lab amid the dull thud of heavy armor marching across concrete. He stopped in face of that, of the three giants who he could see clearly now in the light of the lab. York came forward, Roy’s dark eyes--angry--turned up to meet him. Ed was missing. So was the wizard. So was Hawkeye. Roy narrowed his dark eyes. “No, Hawkeye’s gone too. I might know who took them.” Unlike the others, Mustang hadn’t been present when Hawkeye had disappeared. He could only speculate, and speculation said something more nefarious was afoot. “Ed and the wizard pissed off the wrong people,” and while he didn’t think Gambit was behind their disappearance, the warehouse was the next place Mustang would look. “You and Hawkeye pissed off the wrong people,” he told York. “We’ll find them first.” *** That caused a small look of concern to cross his features. “You think someone’s behind this? You don’t think it’s the passports?” Well, maybe the person doing this was using the passports as a weapon, transporting people to him. The golden Spartan nodded once and turned his head to look back at the other two. “I think we should go with the General.” He didn’t think they should split up. He could have handled it if Roy had been gone. He could handle Tex disappearing. North? If North was gone, there was no telling how he’d handle that. Sure, he’d probably soldier up, but just because he looked good on the outside didn’t mean something wouldn’t break on the inside. “Fine.” Moving forward, Tex would pass by the both of them, to move outside into the night once again. If they were going to do this, they needed to do it. She wasn’t going to just wait around and hope Harry brought himself home. Like Hell she was letting someone keep her wizard. *** Passports? What did the passports have to do with anything? Roy glanced down at the one Hawkeye insisted he continue wearing since that fiasco in the collarverse. It hadn’t occurred to him that it could be another malfunction. Roy took it off and stuffed it into his coat pocket alongside a second pair of gloves. Then the soldiers were mobilizing and he headed out with them, a small man in a dark coat with white gloves. He was nothing beside them. He was everything beside them. And Knowhere would burn. North fell in behind them all, neither the point man nor Texas’ assault, he was the eyes keeping everyone in his sight and scanning the field ahead. “York,” North directed his commentary directly to private communication with the Golden Soldier. “What are we doing, exactly?” *** With that communication winking at him in the form of a little purple-colored light inside his helmet (which he had put back on), York turned his head as if to look back at North, but didn’t turn enough to actually see him. “We’re going to a warehouse that Gambit, Harry’s landlord, owns. He kept Ed captive there for a little bit, I’m sure that’s where Tex will want to take us first. After that, I imagine we’ll go wreak havoc on the Collector.” A hand gestured out to the side some. “Come up here where I can see you.” He didn’t have to come very far-- and York could see him in his motion tracker, but he wanted a visual if he turned his head. He wanted visual confirmation his friend was still alright. He couldn’t lose North. He couldn’t. This place would burn down around them if Mustang didn’t find Riza soon. *** “Does that seem like a good idea? I think that’s a terrible idea,” he replied. “We still have to live here.” And storming into someone’s warehouse on the premise of prior kidnap seemed like a great way to sour relationships with the locals. But none of the group were thinking rationally, except North, and North wasn’t someone anyone listened to. He didn’t have the authority to stop them, because his role was never as authority figure. His role was as backup, support. He supported the endeavor to make sure everyone came home alive. He frowned behind his visor. He’d have to make sure everyone came back from this, too. “I also can’t keep eyes on everyone if I can’t see everyone, York. Put your motion tracker on,” he insisted. He had his on, of course. Plus Theta relaying information to him about each member of the group. *** York was being surprisingly rational. Not entirely rational, but rational for what he was going through. He was calm, he was sure, and he was still able to think. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea, but it’s better than doing nothing and I can’t do nothing.” He blew out a breath and finally turned his body to look at the taller man behind him. “When don’t I have them on, man? And you can see me well enough from right beside me, you don’t have to walk behind.” He didn’t want him to walk behind. He wanted to see him. He wanted to watch him. He needed to know he was there. The Golden Boy’s pace slowed so he could get closer to the other man. And, if North allowed his friend to come in closer, he would bump arms with him, bump shoulders, and let the backs of their hands impact now and then as they walked. “Do you think he’s gone back home? Do you figure he’s happy there, with his brother? Do you think we’ll end up going back home?” A pause, then: “You’ll get to see South again.” He knew North missed her. Maybe it was best they all went home. It was good for everyone. Except York. *** Behind was where North operated best, but his friend was feeling vulnerable and North didn’t want to make things worse. So he allowed York to slow just slightly, their shoulders touching occasionally, making them a unified wall of armor behind the vulnerable form of the General walking in the middle of them. North looked at his friend, head tilted just slightly so that everyone else (okay, Roy and Texas) remained in his peripheral while he examined the golden soldier. How did he answer those questions? They spoke volumes of York’s stress, it made North’s heart clench just a little, he wanted to ease his friend’s pain. But there was nothing he could do except join him in the hunt for the people he loved. “I don’t think he’s gone home. I hope when he does that he’s happy, York,” North paused at the mention of South. He did miss her. He missed her with everything he was. “I hope she comes here,” he admitted. “I worry about her…” What was she doing without him? Getting into trouble. Getting hurt. He wanted to see her, but not at the cost of his friend’s life. It was complicated. He loved them both. North looked away, and when their hands bumped together again he turned his around to catch York’s just briefly before their natural swing broke it apart again. He was there, that’s all it was. A reminder. “Don’t worry about any of that, York, focus on the objective.” *** York turned his head some to look at North when their hands caught-- just briefly-- and he lifted his opposite hand and drew a smile with the tip of his finger along his visor. He didn’t actually touch it, he left no mark, but the elongated U shape was made with his finger, it was something the Spartans had done on missions during the war, when they were radio silent. Unable to see each other’s faces. It was a way to tell one another that things were okay. Things were okay, North. “Have I told you how wonderful you are today, North?” He questioned with a smile in his voice as they walked, though he turned his head forward again to watch the back of Texas, and the small, blue form of Roy Mustang silhouetted against the black wall ahead of him. “Not as incredible as Wash, mind you, but decently okay, I guess.” Wash, the third half of them. It had been North and York first and then Wash had come along and the two of them had welcomed him in. He wasn’t as good as either of the other two Spartans.. But he was good. He’d made it into the higher single digits and he’d stayed there. “We’ll find him, and Harry, and Riza, and we’ll hope South shows up. And when she does, she’ll kick our asses a little, try to intimidate Tex-- fail at it-- and then she’ll settle in. And we’ll all be okay.” It was a nice little fantasy. Wishful thinking. There was nothing wrong with that. *** Things were okay. It was enough of a visual confirmation. It was alright, or things would be. Then York opened his mouth and the words came out, reminding North why he sometimes wanted to punch the shorter Spartan in the teeth. North loved his friend, he also sometimes wanted to stick his head in a bucket of water. It was sibling privilege that made North entitled to abuse York a little in that moment though, so he took full advantage of the fact and elbowed the Golden Soldier roughly to knock him off balance. North was bigger and heavier. In a game of force and resistance between two Spartans, it was a gamble about who would win. “Tell me again how wonderful Wash is,” he said, playfully chiding him. He laughed, his chuckle a little wry. Because York’s fantasy was nothing but a dream. They both knew it, they both knew the other was letting them believe it was possible because it was all they had to hold onto. Ahead of them, Roy cast a glance over his shoulder, watching the boys play, his dark eyes masked behind his floppy hair. He adjusted his gloves as he straightened, taking an extra step to bring him closer to the wall of black armor towering above him and barely visible in the dim lights of Knowhere. “What are you going to do if they’re not there?” he asked her, quiet so his tone wouldn’t carry. *** York laughed, knocked a few steps to the side before he swayed back to where he belonged: beside North. “Well he doesn’t make me feel like a midget.” He joked back with a smile, not realizing that Roy had turned to look back at him. Them. He was too busy reminding himself that North was still here. Still okay. Ahead of them, Texas tilted her head slightly, but didn’t bother to turn or slow. “Kill everyone.” She answered simply. “If the entire planet is nothing but a pile of corpses, it’ll be far easier to find them.” Ruthless. Cold. Soulless. Texas wasn’t a human being, she was a Spartan. She could do evil things, but they were all in the name of love. Yeah, love. And she’d kill everyone to get those idiots back. “What are you going to do if they are there?” Asked back to him. An entirely different situation.. But Tex had the same answer. She’d kill them all. *** The boys joked, they played to blow off steam. It was alright. Mustang didn’t mind, because he was focused on Texas’ answer. He stared at the matte black of her armor, examining the profile he couldn’t read but taking in the words she said. Somewhere inside, Roy was dark too, because her answer resonated with his own feelings on the matter. If they weren’t there he’d burn the place down. If they were? “I’ll burn everyone else to ash and piss in it,” he replied steadily. He’d make it hurt. He’d draw it out. He’d make them regret their choice through every layer of flesh on their bones while it melted away. His eyes said as much when he went back to staring straight ahead. This, the two of them--the General and the Spartan--juxtaposed with the laughing pair walking behind them. Knowhere had screwed with the wrong people. Ahead of them, the warehouses came into view. *** Inside the warehouse, the crew of twenty was working away-- Gambit nowhere to be found. He was gone, sent off somewhere by that passport. No one would know until tomorrow.. But for those men? There wouldn’t be a tomorrow. York and North were not ruthless, unfeeling creatures. But the same couldn’t be said for the two darker of the four, not when people they loved were in danger. Not when tempers were flared and there was no one to temper them. The warehouse door was kicked open by Texas. She didn’t ask questions, she shot the first man closest to her. It caused the rest to take mind and they might have fought back.. But Roy walked in next. Then the two more colorful monsters just a few steps behind. And those men would be all too happy to talk.. But their answers were found to be entirely unsatisfying. The only question was, who would break first? If not Roy, it’d be Tex, who would just start firing. No one but the three Spartans and lone Alchemist would walk out of that place alive. No one. All of Knowhere would burn as the little quartet searched for their missing pieces. Tex would make sure of it. Give her back her fucking wizard. *** It wasn’t what Roy wanted, but in the end it was the only choice that made sense to him. Lost behind a haze of fear, worry, and the desperation of finding the one person left in the world that meant so much to him, Roy didn’t flinch when the dark Spartan began shooting. Not her first shot or those that followed after. She snapped first. He stood back, left with unsatisfying answers, and very little to go on from there. And once the noise of gunfire died and the collected Spartans stood amid the mass horror of the murder Texas committed, the General raised a gloved hand and with a snap of his fingers called fire. Fire answered. The warehouse went up in flames. He stood amid the fire that roared and swept out before him, his black coat flaring out behind him from the backlash of the energy. He watched it burn before he turned sharply and stepped back into the open air of Knowhere without a word to the others. All of Knowhere would burn. There was no one left to stop him. |