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The woman was racing across the training fields, toward the lighthouse. Milo was far far behind and as he futilely ran to catch up, two voices whispered in his ear.

Why do you fight?

A limping hunter moved slowly toward Shu. A large, somewhat brutish figure in a garish Hawaiian shirt, the Life Assistant offered Shu a tired but gentle smile. "Gotta lotta whallop for such a tiny thing," Mary Worth commented before squatting next to the sleeping hunter and their vitals. "There's a few more of them down here, dunno if they alive or not, but could you see about finding a secure place for em?"

He lifted his weapon, a small gun, and gave a wry smile, "Mine isn't so great for this business. I'll look for others you find a place, got me?"

infirmary

In the moment, he didn't think of it. Aleria had grown and changed, the crystalline blue expanding-- and the additions were purer, somehow-- enough so he could dive for the patient and hold the club-turned-shield above the falling debris.

Leslie moved like a feline: agile and practiced, loose-limbed and built for this. He held the shield higher, tilting his head at Lex, blinking a few times to register that he was there.

"Oh," he said. "It's you. Take her outside. It'll be easier for you than me. Less dragging." Grey eyes flickered across the infirmary, shaking detritus off his club-turned-shield, assessing.

"I don't know," Leslie tacked on, heart racing, unable to feel it. Another shake rocked the infirmary: a warning. "I need to get to the next one. Do you have her?"

"What I wouldn't give for a bow and arrow right now." Abbi muttered, but even in a moment like this her ghost couldn't really kick up much of a fuss. Too consumed with hissing and cursing, Abbi ignored her as well and summoned the scythe, swinging back as she neared the doctor.

She did her best leap and swung down at him, hoping she could catch even the tail end of him as he dodged through the hole.

The Chase

No, it didn't seem likely that he would be able to catch her but he at least knew he had the stamina to keep at his pace. Maybe close the distance just a little. Milo couldn't count on a slip up, or her making a mistake. The black eyes meant something after all. Just had to keep her in sight, and at least he knew vaguely where she was going. For now.

The Sun weaved around a few of the training dummies, across a few of the pits. There were a few obstacles but he kept his focus ahead, kept his strides long and pushed hard. (He really wished he could take a second to let Noemi know where he was going but he couldn't really waste that). The sudden voices thankfully didn't make him falter, he was too used to Koume in his head to let that happen now. But it was unexpected and new. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and shook his head. What was this now? Existential question time?

"It's. What. Pow. Er. Rang. Gers. Do." He muttered between breaths. Fight for justice, for those who couldn't and to protect those who couldn't against the monsters he knew existed. To help his friends; those he left back home who thought him dead and the new ones here on the island that he would gladly fight along side with. And if that meant chasing down some crazy girl, even though it seemed like a long shot now, then he would do it.

A surge of speed, beyond his normal limits, brought Milo closer to the girl. At his feet and hands, thin blue crystal formed, creating a new armor for the hunter. Within moments, he caught up.

hurricane

It didn't hit him at first what was happening. Things seemed to also break down to simple steps rather than whole colorful picture that would have made him heavy with emotion.

Caly grabs thick piece of debris and pulls it off someone. They don't move. He remembers tablets only from the Weapons Cove, and his eyes keep drawing to them as he handles the bodies like they might suddenly morph again. Marvels at how strangely rubbery the bodies are, how warm they remain. He is okay for a while and remains in on automatic. Slabs with colorful runes against flattened, mangled bodies. Occasional touches to her back, murmured words of comfort: you're doing good, thank you, I'm so proud. He couldn't imagine how hard this must have been for her and couldn't put it into enough words what this meant to him that she was trying. Helping.

As long as he focused on that and the work, he didn't have to think of The Boat.

Only in between could he manage to at last fire off a text and several DMs.


He had to believe Chris' clone could ignore his mission too. That maybe Captain America would mean enough for him to save rather than destroy, or whatever else Merlin had sent him to do. That he hadn't ******** up enough with their last encounter to throw him back to the wolves.

Pocketing his phone (only then noticing he had smeared the buttons with someone else's blood), he wiped his hand on his shirt and went back to work next to Caly. But when he next caught her eye, he thumped his chest and gave a broad, tired, yet grateful look.

"Philia right here, darlin'. Real hard."

And then, after a beat:

"Need me t'keep distractin' ya while we work still?" He was so used to it now that it didn't' seem that odd a request.

With a wry laugh, a rapier appears in Stephen's hand. "Then I've already won, sweet pea." And his blade meets her own, striking where the two meet. His weapon his thin and flexible and not made to hold off such a large blade, but those black crystals grow and grow, lengthening the sword into a staff.

But Abbi, a new sense of power, of righteous purpose fills her and guides her, lending greater and greater strength to her own attacks. The black crystals that grows along her weapon's shaft do not come from the man before her.