"Man, how do I describe it. Well, after the Aegis program originally overloaded, there was a tiny, tiny little script in there that included the basic Undelete command. Unfortunately, this appears to have given me two forms. My 'demon form' which revolves around the Aegis' inlaid viruses and deletion methods, and the 'angel form' which revolves around anti-virus programs and raw none-destruction based use. So, my demon form is basically a lighter, faster, stealthier version. This one is heavier, tougher, and stronger. So, I think stealth is a dead term against the new First Order enemies, so I'm sticking with this one from now on."

Devin gave Angel a blank look.

"I'm like Smeagol. Wanna' go break people now?"

Jade got Wolf's message. "Well shit, this is going straight to hell." Jade reached for her PDA, but found it broken. "Dammit, this is going oh so well." Spotting a downed soldier, she fished around in his uniform until she found his. "Oh this sucks, it's so old. You'd think MM could at least be a little techno savvy." She shook it a bit and typed in some codes. A Phantom jeep screeched up to them. She and Wraith got in, Wriath driving while Jade worked with the ancient PDA.

Back in the hotel a couple of Colt .45s, a chainsaw, a flamethrower and a sawed off shotgun appeared in front of Kaitlin and Wolf. "Sorry guys, it's all I can do with this ancient PDA and MM's barriers. Try to hold on until Wraith and I get there. Then I can access a weapons cache using Wolf's PDA andget us something more to work with." They sped down the street with Wraith flooring it.

"I see. Well.. you know the cyber world better than I do. Lead on, MacDuff."

"I can't believe you just called me that."

With that said, Angel sprinted at the courtyard wall, jumped onto it, then used it as leverage to jump a second time over the wall. He landed in a crouch, and started sprinting forward at roughly the speed of an olympic sprinter. Not very quietly, he jumped onto a tree and then did a twisting flip onto the roof of an apartment building.

Calmly, he walked forward, then pointed down at a hastily made camp.

"There."

If anyone else had been given those few weapons, they probably would have used them to commit suicide. However, innovation was practically second nature to Wolf and Kaitlin, so they were up to the challenge.

"I call shotgun," Wolf said as he picked it up.

"All right," Kaitiln sighed. "I'll take one of the .45s...and the flamethrower." she picked up the weapon grinning madly. "I hope you like barbecues."

Wolf added the other .45 and the chainsaw to his arsenal. "I do...provided that they don't burn the house down..." he said, giving her a warning she understood.

"Outdoor use only then," she said just before the window behind them shattered in a hail of bullets, and a First Order assassin practically flew into the room from across the street. Wolf intecepted the assassin midflight, jamming the shotgun into his chest and pulling the trigger. The blast blew away most of the zealot's stomach and lungs, but Wolf wasn't done yet. Using the recoil to his advantage, he fired again and nearly took the assassin's head clean off. The dead corpse flew back the way he came, landing on top of a few enemy soldiers as he hit the streets below.

Kaitiln went up to the broken window, pointed the flamethrower down to street level, and started torching enemy soldiers with jets of napalm.

"How about a little fire, scarecrows?" she laughed maniacally.

Despite the hellish blaze, many soldiers managed to break their way into the lower levels and were headed up the stairs, murderous intent in their actions.

Wolf blasted them back downwards with the shotgun, killing a few uninjured stragglers with a combination of .45 fire and his katana. Still the enemies kept coming.

"Kaitiln, we're going to have to take this up another floor!" Wolf said as he started up the chainsaw. Slicing through two oncoming enemy soldiers, the stairwell was sprayed with blood.

Kaitlin sprayed the flamethrower down the stairs, immolating more enemies and starting a small blaze in the lobby.

"You go up first," Wolf said. "I'm going to cut off their approach."

Kaitiln ran up to the third floor while Wolf began firing his .45 at the still persistent enemy forces. As he climbed the stairs, he began to use the chainsaw on the support beams for the stairwell.

"Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay..." he sang as he finished his hack job on the staircase.

The enemy soldiers tried to run up the stairs, but they collapsed under their weight and the soldiers fell down back into the lobby.

The other soldiers began trading shots with Wolf and Kaitiln as they waited for their backup to arrive.

Darkness was all Monk could see, then he opened his eyes. The only problem was that darkness was still the only thing he could see. "What? Where am I?" He tossed his head around to try and get a grasp of what was going on, but to no avail.

"Was that too easy for you?"

The voice was all too familiar. He had heard it so many times before, grown to hate it for so long, was afraid of it for even longer, but it was only a few days ago that he had grown to be friends with it, with him. "Myth?"

There was an chuckle from the background. "I see you are still quick to know what is going on."

"That is not entirely true. Last I checked, I was taking on an army of Mastermind soldiers when I just blacked out."

"Taking on an army? Don't you mean beating them down like nothing?" Monk lost where the sound had originated, and was now trying to locate it again. "It was too easy, wasn't it?"

Monk got to his feet his head slowly scanning the darkness for something, any kind of hint. "That battle? You mean the fight with the army? No it was not easy, they outnumbered me... I couldn't even tell how many there was, it was just a mass..."

"A mass that you handled without breaking a sweat."

The fist fighter couldn't help but agree, lowering his head. "It was... I must admit." There was a long pause as his brain whirred to action. The reason why he felt so empty, the reason why he felt like he could use his entire brain, the reason why he felt like he was himself once more. "Myth!?"

The stealthy assassin lowered his head with a grin, although no one could tell, "So... you've finally figured out why fighting has been so easy to you? You now know that I'm no longer with you, that I have been removed." Another pause as he could sense Monk's nod. "Do you know why... I left?" The third pause was enough of an answer. "It was because I was interfering. I was getting in the way of our mission."

"Our mission? Myth, my mission is to kill Mastermind, your father."

"Father? No father would turn his back on his son like he has. No father would play favorites like he has. The First Order? That wasn't because he needed a new weapon, that was because he was disgusted with me." The normally dark raspy voice now had a tone of hurt. "He did not need me anymore. He casted me aside, and soon thought of me as a threat."

"A threat? Aren't you his loyal son?"

"Hm... Loyal son? I was, once. But not now. Just as he had backstabbed me, I wish to backstab him, that is why I left you." There was another pause as he collected his thoughts. "You don't know this, but he had always kept a tab on me, never really trusted me as I lived in side of your head. As long as I lived in here... Father was always watching. I couldn't stand it anymore... then I truly met you."

"Met me? What do you mean?"

"This is going to sound corny and the like, but all that I say is true. You taught me what it was like to be a fighter, how you need a reason to do the things you do. A reason to take another person's life." Myth knew the peaceable fighter was about to speak, so he countered before he could start, "I know you dislike taking life... but you have done it. Don't run from it." Myth's ears could pick up the rustle of Monk's hair as his head dropped. "I look back on it, and I'm not proud of it. I'm not proud of any of it. All the death, all the orders, everything about working under that crazed AI."

"Aren't you an AI yourself?"

"I am, but there is a different path between the two of us. He gave this AI a brain and a heart. I could think and feel on my own, it was just in my programming to hate, to obey, if you want, I was brainwashed. But not anymore, no, I'm now my own man." There was another momentary pause, "Well... not really a man, so much as a soul looking for a body."

"And that is why I am here. You want to take my body."

"No... That's not all of it."

"Then what is it!?"

"I brought you here to see who would be better off fighting Mastermind. From the two who knows this body best, I want to know who has the better heart and brain to take him on."

Monk shook his head, “We have done this so many times before… why must we do this again?”

"Because this battle is fair, one on one. Me vs. You. I want to see if I can really defeat you."

“And if I win…?”

"To the winner in general… Whoever wins this fight will go to Mastermind’s fortress itself and fight him."

Monk grinned and took the Spiritual Fighter stance. “So… the loser dies… and the winner gets sent on a mission where he dies. Sounds like a lose-lose situation to me.”

Myth took the Hapikido stance, "I never said you had to fight me. You could just give up, go home."

“This is my home.”

"And I am invading it?"

“Yes… I’m going to kick you out. This brain ain’t big enough for the two of us…”

Myth dropped his stance, "Tell me your kidding. That is the worst line I’ve ever heard."

Monk shrugged, “What? I heard it in a movie…”

"That’s what I mean…"

The two fighters just paused in front of each other glaring at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. That’s when they both vanished in a blur, then reappeared in front of each other fist swinging.

"Angel, you wait this one out."

Devin shrugged his coat off, and ratcheted his Patriot back with one black-gloved hand.

"I'm going in."

And then Devin did something very stupid. He jumped. Well, maybe not so stupid. It would have been stupid for most people, being that most people didn't have arms of iron, nerves of steel and balls of brass like he did (and to some extent, this was literally true as well). The augmented man leapt down, immediately grinding his boots against the wall to slow his fall while hanging on to a drainpipe by one hand. He got about thirty feet down before the thing's moorings gave way. Devin didn't let go.

Instead, when the pipe bent, he let it fall, then kicked out at the opposite wall and bounced off and down, aiming for a tiny, inch-wide ledge some three meters below him. Obviously it was too thin to stand on.

But Devin didn't intend to stand.

He leapt from wall to wall, and in less than three seconds he was above the largest tent. A quick glance took in the entire area and informed him that his descent had been seen, and that Mastermind's men were zeroing in on his position.

Then he burst through the makeshift tarpaulin canopy.

He landed in the wreckage of a large table. Around him, frightened comms techs stared in stunned silence just before footsoldiers burst in from behind them, assault rifle preaching the lethal gospel of Steyr, Heckler, and Koch. Devin threw himself low, not caring which direction he went as logn as it was away from his previous location, hitting the ground shoulder first and coming up flat against the wall, which was made of canvas, couldn't support his weight, and gave way under his full-body impact.

His backwards fall saved his life as the soldiers pivoted and fired, their rounds lacerating the wall of the apartment building which he had just come down from, supersonic volleys passing no more thn three inches above his near horizontal torso. He hit the ground again, with his shoulder, then with impossible grace he did a full-body twist, launching himself off the tarmac with his extending arms, bouncing back up in front of them.

And of course, as he spun, his finger closed on the Patriot's trigger.

Trying to hit multiple armored adversaries with a fully automatic weapon while pirouetting in a manner remarkably similar to a ballerina's would have required a miracle, or at least the Dark One's own luck. But Devin knew that the reason Fortune favored the bold was because they made their own luck. His cybereyes relayed targeting information to his brain, which initialized the sarcoplasmic ion rotors within his muscles and compensated for the rotation, the recoil, and even the local temperature.

A heartbeat later, all six soldiers were dead. They were dead because living people have a lot more head. Devin recovered from his ukemi and went low in a half-crouch, just in case there were more surprises waiting for him. Now he could properly survey the camp.

It was a converted parking lot, festooned with tents and places to park jeeps and so on. Through the hole he had torn in the command tent, he could see techs fleeing...

... and a black-clad form stepping into view, the single point of ebon calm amongst the fleeing greens and browns.

It was a woman. She had dark hair and had eyes that suggested she gave kohl manufacturers a lot of business. She was tall and slim, yet had a figure which suggested many things to Devin, most of which were inappropriate to the battlefield. Said figure was also made very appealing by the fact that whatever she was wearing would have fit behind its price tag.

She also had a pair of oversized machete-like blades, which she brought down on either side of his neck with a blood-curdling screech.

Deviin lashed out with a serpent-swift thrust kick to her chest, launching her back and away, but not before the swords nicked his shoulders. Pain flooded his mind and was promptly blinked away by a mind which knew distractions from danger.

He thought of pressing the attack, thought of pouncing her and tearing her limb from limb, as was his custom, but instead did the sensible thing of firing on her with his Patriot set to full-auto.

Her hands weaving with impossible speed, she crossed the giant machetes in front of her, whirling them around like a bladed shield. Devin kept firing, closing the distance, and she kept blocking, and as he reached striking distance he spun to give her a full roundhouse and was promptly slammed to the ground by a deadly hook kick which caught him just over the right ear.

Half-stunned, head almost between his female adversary's feet (a view, which he later noted was not too unsimilar to the heaven which he would be denied entry to) Devin avoided his fate by dint of his unconscious reflexes, which brought his Patriot in the way of the two blades chopping down on his neck. He brought his legs up, caught her around the neck in the fleeting moment when her guard was down, then used his contortive talents to jerk her down and forward, off her feet, slamming her into the ground face-first. Her hands went limp, he grip slackened, and she released her blades.

Devin picked himself and dusted himself off. It had been surprisingly fast. No more than ten seconds, the way a fight should have gone. Drawing it out was for amateurs and/or movie stars. He picked up a sword and stepped over the woman, who was trying (and failing) to get up on all fours. He held the machete high, and the sun glinted off it.

Of course, you had to make concessions for drama sometimes.

There was very little blood, and then it was over.

Or was it?

"Drop the weapon and turn around slowly."

Devin turned to face a trio of similarly-dressed men, all bald with blue tattoos on their faces and nasty guns, which were currently not trained on him.

However, the eyes of the fifty-odd soldiers behind them were.

"You are good, Devin. Beating Shahdee like that... You should have joined the First Order like the rest of Red Cell. You could have fought beside her, then."

"Well, I could have joined you guys..."

His expression hardened.

"...and of course, you can all eat shit."

The middle one of the three furrowed his eyebrows.

"Kill him."

And as fifty rifle bolts ratcheted back in unison, Devin found himself praying for an angel to save him...

"We need reinforcements." One of mastermind's soldiers said. He had hidden in a storm drain the birds had blinded him and his unit and he had shot his comrades in the confusion. Blind and disoriented he crawled into the storm drain. "It is total chaos out here there are to many of them." He felt the talons rake his face. "NO!!! TAKE THIS YOU BASTARDS!!!" He fired his SMG wildly, and was pierced by his own ricocheting bullets. While he killed two ravens, he also mortally wounded himself. "...so many." were his last words.

The commander had his arm raised to tell his men to fire. Then he dropped it.

Not a single bullet fired. He turned to find a glowing man standing at the end of the line of soldiers. Behind him, the heads of all of the soldiers fell off.

Angel twirled his large sword. "Here's the problem with dramatic entrances and conversation. They're distracting. While you were giving your nice little speech, I just flew down here and ran along the line."

Angel then bolted forward at the same speed as Devin was fond of moving, and slammed the butt of his hand into the leader's chest, momentarily stopped his heart, breaking his ribs, and sending him flying backwards and through a whole tent.

Angel stalked towards him, and unlimbered a single gun.

"This is how you kill someone."

Then he fired. The man slumped down, a hole in his forehead.

That's when Angel heard Devin say, "Angel, there were three!"

All Angel said was "Oh fuck," before something grabbed his from behind. It was very fast, and very strong, and didn't flinch as it threw Angel a good twenty feet before having Angel roll another 20.

Angel stood, and got the mother of all clotheslines. Then he forced himself into a crouch, and glared at the figure. He'd missed two enemies. Go figure.

"Devin! Get the other, I got this one!"

One turned to shoot at Angel, but Devin was already beside him, seizing his pistol in one hand and backhanding the First Order assassin with the other. Amidst the confusion, Devin wrenched the arm back and hard, and he was gratified to hear a small crunch of cartilage and a clatter as the man's nerveless finger automatically released the pistol.

Then the First Order assassin hooked a leg between Devin's, dropping him to the ground. Devin broke his grip and somehow did a backwards roll, the assassin's foot cracking the ground two inches from where Devin's head was.

Devin completed his roll and ended upright, glaring at the assassin through ice blue eyes. His hands were out, ready to grab. The assassin saw this, and went into a Muay Thai stance.

For a timeless instant, their eyes locked.

Then it began.