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The entire ordeal was still so fresh on his mind as he headed the only direction the fragments that had come out of that beast pulled him. So many lives were lost. He toyed with seven lives. Spun them into worlds unknown. Dark, twisted realms where the only way out was in. And he was the sole survivor. Nathan Kross never in his wildest dreams expected he would be hunting down some crazed sorcerer in Northern Canada. But the things that this man had done to him and the lives of six others were too horrible to just let things go. He looked through the teal colored glass in his mechanical helmet that served as eye holes, giving the world a light blue hue to it. It suited the weather. While he wasn't freezing by any means, thanks to his mechanical suit of armor, and beneath it a climate adapting suit, there was definitely a chill. However, he paid no mind to it. All he could think about was getting this guy. But as a large tower came into view, even with his heated suit, his blood froze and he stopped dead in his tracks. It was huge. Just like last time. He drew them all into a large, distorted castle that seemed to have a mind of it's own. This structure was much different, but the fact that the fragments that belonged to this guy were pulling him towards another place that was in any way, shape, or form like the castle that got him in this whole mess was enough to make him almost want to turn back. But as the thought of his fallen comrades returned to his mind, he only stepped forward and quickened his pace. He would pay.

As he became within range of the tower's front doors, he started to doubt that this was the doing of the same man from last time. Labeling his place of torment at all was strange, let alone the name Club Orion. Still, he had to keep his guard up. This guy could be spinning him into a while different world right now and he wouldn't even know it. That thought made his hand stop on the doorknob. What if he was just walking right into another trap? What if this entire things was just a fabricated world of that monster's sick desires? If he was already locked into the game once again, he knew there was no getting out of it unless the source was stopped. With that thought, he took a breath and turned the knob and shoved his shoulder into the door, opening it. What he saw surprised him. No dark corridors, no warped appearance, no wormholes tearing themselves open. A circular room with...Couches? Tables? An elevator? He couldn't be here. This couldn't be what a psychopath like him did in his spare time. But as his eyes found the inhabitants of the tables, he saw a lone man and his blood turned to fire. He quickly stepped towards the man, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Heavy metal dropped on wooden floors as he carried himself over, his elbow touched his waist and his palm face up. Pressing a button on his forearm, a storage compartment in his armor opened up, revealing a cylinder metalic object. He withdrew it and the compartment shut. Holding it in his right hand, he switched a button with his thumb and a teal plasma blade sprung to life at a solid four feet. He extended his right arm and the blade was now positioned in not but an inch away from the black haired menace's throat.

"Looks like you won't be playing anymore games." A mechanical voice erupted from the shelled assailant. The face of the helmet he wore split into three sections and shifted backwards, into the back of the helmet, exposing a young man's face. Brown hair hung was matted to the sides of his face and angry blue eyes held the figure in front of him. He locked eyes with the man. So much as a single move and he would make this guy rip his own head off, assuming his blade didn't get to it first.