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Numbers were certainly on the side of the shadowlings of Chaos, but she had forgotten to account for a simple fact:
Yes, she had a lot. But they were chumps.

Easily a third of them fell to the initial blast, even those simply caught in the shockwave as Joe found himself melting walls and floors with more mana expended in a second than he'd felt in his whole life up until then.

One shadow, entirely separate from those annihilated, rose up.

"Greetings, humans. You may know of me as Sindhlot. I'm afraid Legion does not desire for you to destroy his anchors," the shadow intoned, twirling a pistol around its fingers.

Joe turned and raised a hand casually at Sindhlot. "Hey hey, long time no see! How's it been, amigo?"
Instead of feeling tired, he felt rather exhilarated.
Roland mused to himself.
Joe ignored him, taking some fire and turing it into a ball of flame on a string of fire. He connected it to his finger and began to...yo-yo?
"You gonna go after the ones really after the anchors, or are you gonna stand there staring at us?"

Joe smiled and nodded at Sindhlot's gun. "Hmm. I'd like to say that ou have no bullets and so no advantage, but...you're a demon, after all."
He stepped in front of the other two. "You and me, demon. Let's do it."

Pushing past crowds of terrified coffee-drinkers, Paul aimed for the counter - behind there, his senses (third eye, he supposed, although that didn't exactly strike him as quite the right word for it) were catching a powerful glow from behind it. As he pushed past a couple, who upon seeing his handgun shrunk away with a sort of whimper, an idea struck him. "You know, Alex, this whole deal obviously isn't going to stay underground for long, now that LA's been stolen. I think we need to talk to the government before the Army talks to us with M-16s. And we should probably get some uniforms - sloppy as our organization may be, we ought to at least be recognizable as Hunters." Reaching the counter, he flung himself over it as casually as possible. Closing his eyes, he tried to rely fully on his third eye. While objects blurred slightly, people became slightly clearer, and he could even spot some people he hadn't been able to see before because they were hiding behind things.

More importantly, though, there was the glow. It came from a little further back, and it was letting off a magical aura that definately had to be something Legion had put together. Finally Paul spotted the object itself, and groaned. It was a Slushee machine. The problem was that it appeared to be wrapped in magical steel cable, so thick that his third eye could barely even see the outline of the device itself. "Well, first things first," Paul muttered, taking a step back and firing an exploding round into the machine.

The explosion, unfortunately, was affected heavily by Crossover, and the windows of the shop shattered. Paul was pushed off balance. His third eye closed tight and his normal eyes flew open as he stumbled backwards, only catching himself a moment before tripping over a plastic bin full of (now spilled) plastic silverware. After a moment's recovery, Paul drowned out the screaming now coming from the rest of the shop, and focused again, opening his third eye. The cords - and the glow - were gone.

"Well. Let's just hope the other anchors - presuming there are any - are just as easy to destroy," Paul said, checking himself for scorchings.

said Keldan matter-of-factly.
Siber responded in irritation. Sindhlot, the most powerful among Legion's allies, was trying to kill Joe, at the very least. Siber had not yet shown any aggression, so it appeared he was, for the extremely temporary moment, immune to the thing's wrath.
He watched the exchange for a few moments.
Keldan said quietly.
But he was thinking about it.
Madam Rusalka, he tried, concentrating on his Muladhara,
What? she answered in her freakishly low, choking voice.
Siber licked his lips. I need your help.
To fight Sindhlot? First, mortal, I hate your ancestor and second, I don't know that you know with whom you're dealing.
No, no. Of course not to fight Sindhlot. I want to fight the girl, and I think you can get me past Sindhlot and to her.
You'll be abandoning the boy.
I'll warn him. If he doesn't come, I'm cutting my losses and splitting.
The hanged water nymph, or at least the burned-to-death young prostitute who had taken that form, was silent for a time. You forget that I will try to kill you when you summon me.
I was hoping to avoid that.
How?
You tell me.
Give me your word that Gurul will be killed at your hands. Finish the job you started with me.
Done. He didn't even need to think about it. Immediately, he felt the Rusalka's readiness to be summoned.
"Joe, if you plan on living, shield yourself and follow me. Otherwise, you can stay down here. I'm cool with that, too- the others might be able to help you."
The Rusalka, pale and ethereal, an adolescent, white figure hanging at a strange angle from a rope that extended up into forever, faded in. Her torn lilac dress fluttered briefly in a nonexistent wind and Siber leapt towards her to take her hand. "Thank you, Madam." And he bent and kissed the translucent hand.
"Joe, are you coming?" He stood tense, ready to ascend to where the enemy Warlocks were stationed.

Snarled Apolline, extremely untrustworthy of Siber, who had made his own feelings known earlier.
She looked rather skeptically at the adolescent hanging from a rope thats end she couldn't begin to fathom where it ended, and at Siber holding her hand. Then she glanced back at Joe, and then pointedly at Sindhlot.
After a moment she shrugged and decided to stay out of this battle and go up to follow wherever Siber went and help whatever she could. But she could get up on her own. She pressed her palms together and murmured a word. A small cloud coalesced at her feet and she stepped on it, then it began to raise to the next floor up. She stepped onto solid floor and looked down at Siber awaiting his approach.
"Coming?"


((Excuse my following abscence, but my job has placed me on twelve hour shifts and my times online will be,... rather uncertain. So if Legion needs to place my character somewhere to keep the story moving if I haven't been on go ahead. n.n thx! ))

"Suit yourself," Siber called lightly, his eyes dead as he glanced up at Aurelie. Suddenly, the rope holding the Rusalka swiftly shortened and Siber, feeling no strain on his arm and seeing none on the Rusalka's throat or hand, went with it. They passed Aurelie and Siber dropped off on the floor above, spreading his weight to prevent further cracking and now uncomfortably close to the Warlocks. He felt vulnerable beyond vulnerable, with Aurelie almost out of his field of vision.
Don't worry, murmured the Rusalka, As long as Gurul is alive, I won't allow you to die.