((Asuka, I PMd you but didn’t get a response. Let me know if you’re not cool with the bunny and I’ll change my post around.))

By the time he thought to move, it was on him, the attack he should have seen coming, the assault that he should have evaded easily. Asuka had sprinted at him, her feet tiny pistons in the earth, her body a scarlet blur across the Cell floor. When she launched a vicious assault at him, he was able to turn slightly and rock to his heels before being ravaged by the terrible attack. He wouldn’t know what hurt for some time, his head knocking hard on the steel bars that lined the cell around the fence. The lights went out quickly, and as the world dulled he heard the passing of more fleet feet.

It was Damon moving past him, but he was nowhere near cognizant enough to stop the lad. The boy would continue on safely, and Veritas was in no position to challenge anyone. Were he to stand against any of them now, it would spell doom for him.

Urgh… whore… bring it together…

In his weakened state, he was not surprised to find himself alone again, Sarah Dahlios nowhere to be found, nowhere to aid him. It was fortunate, rather, that none took the opportunity to strike down a wounded man. He was certainly vulnerable enough, and hadn’t exactly found a home for himself amongst the upper echelon of Althanas’ most loved. After a few seconds, painful, punch-drunk moments that passed like hours, he could stumble forward, rocking himself to a crouch on unsteady feet. There was noise and screaming and chaos, but the disrupting element now was the smell of smoke.

Oh shit, it’s spreading much too fast…

And so this would be it. Damon and the demon thing were gone, out (could it be) through the fence and out of sight. A tumult from above, and he saw the goblin-thing leaving through a hole in the ceiling of the cage. Perhaps the only way out. Climbing to the top would be perilous, however, as he would be a sitting duck the whole time. Curiously, a pang of compassion hit him as he looked at the downed Asuka.

Yeah, you came for me, fair enough. Just payback, I suppose. Can’t die here, not like this. Not now.

The potential for being heralded as “heroic” didn’t escape him, and it was a romantic notion. He couldn’t climb the cage, he sure as hell couldn’t go through the weak fence, but there was another way. Suspending his hands inches around one of the fence rods, he fired a tremendous pulse of energy between his long fingers. At first, the resistance was negligible in the steel, but over the spanse of a few seconds he felt the heat to his palms. The metal softened, and finally yielded in a molten drip, the bar bending slightly. He repeated the process for a section lower on the same bar, the section falling to the ground with a gentle, hollow thud. Checking over his shoulders, he was forced to cover his face with a cloth covered hand as the smoke began to burn his eyes.

Not much time. Keep moving. Keep moving.

With a dagger in his hand, he sent his charge once more, the blade glowing a fiery orange in seconds. He was able to cleave the links of the fence quite easily with a smooth, sliding loop. The deliberate circular motion left a large section of fence falling to the ground, disconnected and lifeless. A giant mouse hole remained, and he felt perfect as the rat to sneak through. He lurched a foot through the metal before he stopped, turning in spite of himself.

Don’t leave the girl. You would deserve better, and so does she.

He fought with himself as he moved, unsure now of what he was doing. Textbook idiocy, suicidal, foolish, and irreparably moral. Hooking the warrior woman under her limp armpits, he turned her and dragged her back. Stuck in the back with a metal bar for his troubles as he tried to escape, he was met with well-wishers who quickly stepped forward to the scarlet-haired soldier, grabbing her with the intention of ushering her to safety. She would be fine.

Fine and set to kill you another day, you f*cking fool.

He was able to stumble outside in a drunken haze, relishing in the cool breath of fresh air as the inside burned to hell. There were still others inside, but he felt as though that Murakama girl had likely survived. He had done something good, but the smoke in his lungs forced him to hack half a lung in vile reproach of the entire set of events. It probably wouldn’t matter that he had helped, his equity of evil well founded upon Althanas.

But it felt damned good, he thought. Within a few moments, walking away from the amphitheater of brimstone and fire, he was searching suit pockets for a cigarette. This one would take some time to soak in.