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It was early in to the night, but by the time he had gotten off work Wolframite would have already gone out, so Bismuthite was left to patrol alone. It wasn't all too uncommon - Wolframite was Spec-ops and, because of that, didn't have the luxury of time to commit to a civilian job like Billy, Bismuthite, did, although he often worried about how much time the Negaverse took up of his lover's life. Bismuthite contented himself to work Intelligence, and as such had more time to lend to trivial things like a job to keep a roof over their head and food in their bellies. He didn't mind. At least, he didn't think he minded?

Either way, tonight, he walked alone down the streets of the seedier parts of Destiny City. The parts that seemed to have a bar or club on every corner, with dark dank, disgusting alleys and homeless and hookers spaced throughout.

It wasn't the type of place one would find a senshi, for what senshi or knight cared about 'protecting' such an abominable part of 'their' city? Perhaps only those of a less than gleaming moral standard. And it was those types that were most easily swayed to their side...which was what Bismuthite's job largely consisted of; seeking out members of Order that could be talked to, information syphened from, their name passed along as potential candidates for corruption. In a way, Intel and Infiltration were a lot alike. Bismuthite would have easily fulfilled the roles of any of the Negaverse factions. He'd chosen strategically, though.

Everything it seemed was strategy.


As he walked, the air around him suddenly felt off. As far as he could sense, he was the only one around this particular area, but still...

Then they came. Three mirrorwraiths. Bismuthite could feign no lack of contempt or hate for the beings, just as he could not hide his hate for the Dark Mirror Senshi and their leader. But as far as he knew, they were all on the same side for now, were they not? Why then, were these three upon him now?

He had little time to think as the three wraiths attacked him, passing through him once, twice, each merciless in their barrage. Bismuthite was unsure what he was supposed to do, he'd never had to fight the wraiths before! His mind rang with one word though - "Traitors!"

The DMC...were they suddenly turning on them like he had always known they would? Why!? Bismuthite summoned his youma, Fanhir. The dark, acid-dripping youma, vaguely coyote in shape, appeared, growling and mouth dripping a sizzling substance as it hit the ground. It seemed the youma was just as confused as its partner, but at least the wraiths were no longer attacking. All parties were still, but poised for attack. A standoff. Then one of the wraiths moved, and the Fanhir pounced, but not before the wraith escaped back to its mirror fragment, which was subsequently destroyed by the acidic youma.

Back in action, the remaining two wraiths made their move, going from behind. Bismuthite summoned his weapon and in one swift motion cut through one of them who had stolen just enough energy to become corporeal.

And then there was one.

And that one made to flee. Having not absorbed as much energy as the other two Bismuthite could not attack it. Neither could Fanhir, but it lead them on quite a chase across the red light district before getting away from them. Bismuthite snarled, and action mirrored by his own youma. Neither of them liked the outcome of this 'battle.' Bismuthite liked it less because of the connotations. What did the wraiths attacking mean? Was this really the start of the Dark Mirror's inevitable betrayal? One thing was certain though - he was heading straight to the rift and reporting the happening to Zinkinite. The General King would certainly want to know.