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Avalon had not signed up for the Shadows in order to pull this sort of mission, which was a terrible and ungrateful thought to be having, on account of she actually liked Dionsyia. Which was saying a lot, really, because she didn't much like anyone, these days. Not since her run-in with Kerberos. That had been a topic of minor obsession, these past few days; once upon a time, that corrupted senshi had been hers. She'd trusted Natron--Lyonesse--with him, with keeping him safe. Even at the depths of her darkest, Avalon would have never considered letting Kerberos become... that.

He was barely human anymore. Which probably explained her fixation on ending his misery. "They're barely held together with spit and Elmer's glue anyway," she said to Dionsyia's back as they hurried down a back street. Their Mauvian rode on her shoulder, mostly concealed in her hood. "I almost took his arm off with one punch. I get something more useful than a tiny-a** knife and a sheath and he's going down."

Or maybe that asset Babylon kept hinting at would pull through. She wondered if he'd ask the asset (no really who was it she needed to know) to take Kerberos, too, when they went for Sakuradite. Avalon sighed through her teeth when they found the door. It was mercifully padlocked shut, and unmercifully unguarded. She wanted to kill something. Her spine felt taut with it, her hands trembled like an addict sans her fix, but the goal here wasn't to leave tracks: it was to get whatever was in this shipment and get out.

Avalon took a deep breath and said, "Have you heard anything about Naomi and Ava? I heard some of the other estranged families got... news." Not good news, either; the Negaverse was not kind to known relatives of knights. They thought (correctly) that letting them live would just ensure further opposition. She dearly didn't want that to happen to her friend's kids; they looked adorable. Not as cute as Toni, but very few children were as cute as hers. Still, the news wouldn't come through the Shadows. It'd be the Watchers who saw, and Avalon had very little to do with them. Her place was killing things that endangered her people--like she was doing now--and getting information to keep them safe.

Sometimes it took a very, very long time to get the blood out from beneath her fingernails.

"That's bullshit," said Avalon, but the words were hollow before they even made it to her brain. It was bullshit, sure--but his kids had a higher chance of living with him not involved. Antonia was safer in the camp than in the city, true, but… the camp had horrors of its own. Her daughter loved Auntie Hver, for instance, wouldn't be horrified if she saw the woman's scars, but Avalon didn't want that for her. Antonia was bright, innocent, beautiful, and above all else, worth the months Avalon had spent without powering up. Worth the tricks she had pulled on Babylon to make her happen. "I'm sorry, Dion," she said under her breath as they passed through the doorway. It was going to be obvious to any patrols what was going on, probably, but they oughtn't be coming around too soon. "Anyway, you know if it'll help, Toni's always down for showing off her stabs or playing tea party." So what if swords weren't a traditional knight weapon? They weren't traditional, but they were vastly superior. If Avalon had her druthers, the sheath at her hip wouldn't be empty. Oh, no. There would be a black longsword there, dark as night and cold as ice.

The warehouse was eerily still and quiet, and Avalon stepped lightly to avoid the telltale tap-tap of her heeled boots. She'd put on weight, what with the pregnancy, and then quickly lost it again; better to give Toni more food so she could keep growing than worry about maintaining her own muscle too much. Avalon got what she needed, for herself and her daughter, and that was all that mattered.

If she remembered right, what they wanted would be in a side room, not in the warehouse itself. She had a bit of hope that maybe she'd be able to stab at least one person, because--it was in a separate room. Probably there'd be a guard there to keep an eye on it. "Did they tell you why the sponsor had to leave it here," she asked out of the corner of her mouth when they hit a grate she couldn't fit her hand through to get to the switch. "Can you make this go? Sorry, I don't remember if you've got a size limit on your magic." She could circumnavigate the grate, but this was the most direct route, and therefore the least likely to get them caught.

Well, when he put it that way, Avalon almost felt guilty for not sending Antonia to stay with Gwen and Leah. Almost. Not guilty enough to do it. Antonia was hers, her baby, the little light of her life. She would not trade her for all the tea in China or all the power in the Rift--and there was much power there. Avalon had felt it, once, like the crack in the dam feels the force of all those millions of gallons of water, pushing and pushing until finally, she broke.

And here she was, today, apparently helping the mob with a hit. Hey, whatever worked--whatever got the camp what it needed. "Never fear your virginal lips," said Avalon. "I've got you." They hopped over the grate and she asked, "How's your reserves? I don't think we're going to have a problem, but I'd rather be--" she snapped her mouth shut and threw out an arm to stop Dionysia. Safe than sorry, she finished, shifting her hand to cover his mouth.

This is when telepathy would be really useful. But yes, she heard it: a low groaning. Someone waking up? And there, a low murmur, a smothered laugh. There were people, hostiles, between them and where they were going. Even a year ago, she would've missed that telltale sound, it was so quiet--but she was well-versed in pain and well-versed in violence, and getting better all the time. "I take your meaning," she said, dropping her hand. "This way." Thank goodness for the Watchers and their maps. Thank goodness for her own goddamn good sense. She took a right instead of the left she'd intended, stopping in the shadows of a set of stairs upwards.

"How're you for fighting, again? Should I do this part myself?" She gestured the way they came. "I'm not sold on them being Negaversers. I don't sense anything."