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Things were getting kind of serious in Gunn's life, which wasn't to say she was crumbling or even teetering a little. She had, to put it bluntly, never felt so sure in herself and her purpose. Negaverse general after her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend? Best friend (and forever unrequited crush) getting married in less than half a year to get said Negaverse general off her back? Corruptions left, right, and center? Sure! Go for it. Gunn had two things in her back pocket: the will to murder, and also, the ability to set people on fire if they pissed her off.

Real fire. Not dumb fake magic fire. Actual fire.

She stretched and took a right where she normally took a left, just because she was feeling dangerous, and repetition was definitely the spice of getting herself killed someday by some ambush of crazy Chaos-infected people. As long as she made it back to her motorcycle in time to get at least six straight hours of uninterrupted sleep, she didn't care. Anyway, even her hazy (at best) aura-sensing skills couldn't miss the lone Chaos aura that evening. It was a tiny baby, she thought, just a little one--a Lieutenant. They were her favorite to get rid of, not because they were easier or more innocent, but because she liked reminding the higher-ranking officers of the Negaverse that they were not untouchable kings. They could not protect those beneath them.

Maybe the Negaverse wanted to pretend they didn't care. Operation Rota had proven otherwise. So she followed the Lieutenant's aura for a few blocks, staying on the street just to amuse herself--but when she got bored of the exercise, she scaled the side of one of the houses and stopped stock still.

The corner of her mouth twitched.

She put a gloved hand over her mouth to smother the sob-like sound and hide her smile.

She tried really, really, really hard not to laugh.

"Oh my <********>, Wolframite, you're adorable," she said, and that was when she lost it, peals of laughter tearing their way out of her mouth. Like, yeah! She didn't like Wolframite. He was terrifying in her dreams. But like this? Like a Lieutenant, covered in cutesy baby bows? "Awwwww," she choked out. "Wow. What did you do, buddy, suck off the wrong General-King? Daaamn."

She hopped down to join him on the street level, and--wow, he looked not at all like he did in her nightmares. The burns on his face had scarred over nicely, no longer red and puffy and leaking clear fluid. His hand was all casted up. Maybe this was the punishment Europa had been so sure had been inflicted upon the organizers of the White Phoenix? She smiled at the thought. At least the Negaverse wouldn't be so dumb as to make the same mistake twice… and if they did… hopefully next time it'd be the White Moon playing along to spring the trap?

That was the goal, anyway. She crossed the space between them quickly, stopping when she was just out of arm's reach for the much smaller Lieutenant. "You're still an officer the same way a youma's still human," said Gunn, rolling her blue-blue eyes at him. "So how'd this happen? I promise, just this once, I'm not gonna hurt you. Call it quid pro quo for not hurting my friend." It was not quid pro quo for not hurting Europa; it was just. Holy ********. It was too rich. "I didn't even know Negaversers could get demoted. How awful do you have to be to earn that? Jesus, Wolframite."

She pulled out her senshiphone and selected the camera function. "Hold on, I have to take a picture. This s**t is inspirational."

"Because I think you might've been involved with my friend, and you really need to leave Europa alone," said Gunn cheerfully, "Because you want to not be dead by the time I'm done taking photographic evidence that somehow you sucked enough to have this happen to you?" The flash on her phone went off and she tried not to laugh again at the picture she'd captured. Oh ********, that was too damn adorable. She wanted to cuddle him, and then break his neck.

Although... The reminder of her scouthood misadventures as a hunted arsonist was not welcome. She may have never burned down an orphanage, but she'd done some pretty awful things otherwise, including attacking and killing a cop. With Ares. Her smile faded for a minute at the memory, and she braced her free hand against her hip casually--but really she was pressing a hand against her bullet wound. "You know, the only orphanage I'd burn down would be one for people like you and Leto," she said. "Know of any addresses for your compatriots in the mirrorverse, buddy? 'Cause you know, if I stop harassing you, I've got free time."

"Hey guess what! I don't care." Gunn was capable of looming over Wolframite even when he had the ridiculous heels he'd worn as a Captain; now that he had flat-soled shoes, it was ludicrous how much taller than he she was. When she closed the space between them again, it was only emphasized. "I didn't corrupt with Ares because I was sick over what I did to you. I regretted it." She'd had nightmares about it for months. In the end, Wolframite looked entirely too familiar to her for her to torture him. Kill him? Oh, absolutely. She could do that. "So I stayed home that night instead of going and getting turned into a mirror zombie. Some people could learn from my example!"

She meant Wolframite.

Gunn leaned back. "I don't work with the Negaverse," she said. "I don't compromise. One day, Leto will die, I will be the one to kill her, and then I will step over her corpse and set yours aflame." Let him chew on that, she thought. "You and she are cut from the same damn cloth, Lieutenant Wolframite. Your power stems from the same corruption in the fabric of the universe, and that's why I'd never dream of working with trash like you."

Gunn laughed, but it wasn't a kind laugh. It was a cruel one, like finding sharp-edged glass under your pillow, or perhaps a razor blade embedded in an apple. "Wolframite, I think you've forgotten who's in control here," she said, her words broken by awful broken-bell peals.

He'd shoved her, but when Gunn recovered it was swinging, closing the space between them in two long steps. Her face was inches away from his, a hand tight on his shoulder to keep him there. "They murdered a child, Wolframite!" No matter what Gunn had done, she had not killed Rota. She had not killed children, senshi barely over the age of majority. "There were witnesses to Tanzanite eating someone's face. While they were still alive! What I did, I did on orders, Wolframite!"

How dare he try to take the moral high ground. What she had done was wrong, but she wasn't a murderer. A warrior, yes! A warrior, always. She had killed, but only those who had killed themselves. She would do it again a hundred hundred times if she had to, she would ******** bathe in Leto's blood and Wolframite's blood if she had to, if what victory called for was eating Beryl's black heart, Gunn would do that and she would smile. Even though it would probably taste like s**t, she would. "A coward. At least I don't need to recruit an army to kill one Dark Mirror b***h."

She shoved him back again. "I didn't cut out Tanzanite's tongue. I didn't gut a girl. I didn't let rats chew on people's feet." And then she smiled, and she said, very gently, "I burned them, Wolframite. And I don't need someone else to make my fire for me anymore. Want to see? Want me to show you why it is I'm in control here?" Under her breath, she incanted her spell, and then she clarified aloud: "Why I'm always in control?"

They recruited children? Yes. But no younger than the Negaverse. Gunn had met fourteen-year-old Negaversers and fourteen-year-old senshi, and while she had heard tales of younger--well, she'd never met one. And if she did, she certainly wouldn't encourage them to fight. Wolframite was lying, simple as that. Negaversers liked to do that. She rolled her eyes, and when he punched her in the gut, she was taken by surprise. Gunn stumbled back, and then with a shriek of something that could really only be described as rage, unleashed her Eternal attack. The vortex of flames spun into being around her, clearing a scant fifteen seconds later.