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Futuristic Ishtar

Enkerzed

Dusty Wanderer

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WELCOME TO ISHTAR

Equipped with the most advanced technology in existence, the megacity of Ishtar, shining jewel of the world, represents the pinnacle of human potential... and it is at war with itself.

As the disparity between rich and poor reaches unprecedented levels, the city's ruling elite, the Nobles, have constructed an island citadel to separate themselves from all of society's ills.​




Now warlords have risen up in the slums of the outer rim where the people have been left to fend for themselves, utterly vulnerable as territorial battles rage all around.

Occasionally, these conflicts spill over to the inner city where the rule of law and order is slowly disintegrating, day by day and inch by inch as the megacity gradually consumes itself.

This cannot continue.

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To the Arbiters falls the task of taming the outer rim by whatever means necessary.

Will you be a noble protector or a ruthless avenger? The choice is yours.

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Servomechanisms whirred as Gideon Lapierre flexed his neck, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. It was a meaningless gesture for a full prosthetic cyborg, but one born of habit and besides, it made a much nicer sound than popping joints.


Looking out the back of the truck, he watched as the safety of the neutral zone fell away into the distance, its border marked by the presence of armed guards and barricades made of junk and scrap metal.


They might have been any other gang in the outer rim for all Gideon cared, but from what he was told by the local driving the truck, the difference was that those men only ever defended their territory, they never attacked anyone else. Yeah... I still can't tell the difference, Gideon had flippantly replied.


Asher, the man driving the truck, was starting to wonder if helping the Arbiters was such a good idea after all. They were here to restore peace, sure, but just what did that entail?


According to Gideon, it meant kicking the ass of every thieving and murdering scumbag out in the slums, but Asher had hoped that the man was not speaking for all of his peers when he said that, because if that were so, then just about ninety percent of the population would have been guilty.


This is for the kids, Asher reminded himself as he navigated the streets, careful for any gangers waiting in ambush. An end to the gangs would mean a future for the children, but only if they survived to see it. He did not like leaving them behind, but another Arbiter had promised to protect them, and so here he was, guiding one into the heart of hostile territory.


"All right, this is the rendezvous point," Asher said as he stopped the truck with one hand wrapped around a pistol, holstered by the steering wheel.


"Up and at 'em lads, it's time to clear house," Gideon said to his deputies as he jumped out of the truck. "And don't any of you try shooting me in the back again. You saw what happened to the last shitbrain who did that."


Excluding Asher, there were seven deputies in all. Survivors from the last ganger den Gideon had raided and pressed into service. Armed with handmade pistols and rifles, they were a raggedy bunch but had enough experience to know how to use their weapons and, unlike their former leader, were smart enough to recognize who to not trifle with. Well, except for the last shitbrain who didn't.


"But what about your friends we were supposed to meet?" Asher called out.


"What about them?" Gideon blithely responded as he twirled his holo-knives.


"Aren't we supposed to wait for them here?"


"Yeah, we'll be waiting. After we're done."


A kilometre ahead was a walled compound where men were scrambling to shut the gate and prepare for intruders. Although Gideon and his men were hidden from view behind several layers of housing, they must have been spotted from above by rooftop spies.


Any number of vantage points nearby would have been perfect for an ambush, but evidently no one wanted to chance being within reaching distance of an Arbiter. A few months in and they had already struck a fearsome reputation among the outer rim.


Yeah, cower you bastards, Gideon thought with the smug satisfaction befitting a Noble of the Citadel as he dashed forward, his deputies struggling to keep up.


Asher merely rolled his eyes as he pulled down the steel shutters behind his truck's windscreen and windows, opting to wait for the other Arbiters and wondering if they were just as insufferable as the one charging ahead.
 
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Octain wandered the streets of the outer city looking for another "customer" to steal from. No Deputies, no Arbiters, no person that could stop him from stealing from the person of his liking's. He looked around for a person to steal from when he saw a Deputy truck come by and stood there waiting for the truck to go by. He saw a young woman and her son walk by and Octain decided to pick her pockets for today. The both of them stopped while the mother talked to someone on her phone. Octain reached into the woman's purse, grabbed her wallet, and blended back into the crowd of people walking the sidewalk. He saw the women look into purse to find the missing wallet. The bandit watched as the mother mouthed the words to her son that she wouldn't buy the toy the boy earned. The boy cried and they walked home. Octain always felt sad for stealing things from people who were giving things to there children. He got about $40 bucks and walked to the two. "Hey there, have some money for the kid." Octain wasn't much of a talker himself so he spoke in quick sentences when he could. The bandit never heard the thank you as he walked away from the two, hopefully that kid got what he wanted. The bandit walked the sidewalk toward one of the more dangerous parts for a bandit, a deputy station. He never did any major crime, hell, he hasn't killed a single soul in his life. So he wasn't THE most wanted criminal, that title belonged to Overlord Prince or whatever he was called. He and his goons have token 6-12 posts Octain heard. It might not be real but it sure scared the wits out of him to go over to those parts. He got past the place like usual and headed out to look for the truck, he never saw what those people do for living then shot bandits. The bandit was sure he was heading the right way when he past his apartment. He was off to visit a bandits no-mans-land, he knew going crazy.
 
A line of shots from the tops of those buildings trailed the heels of Gideon. Rifleman spat frustratedly with each miss. Calls for action shouted across the noise of twisting metal and stomping feet.


“Light em!”


Above the Arbiter and his deputies, the people held up small lights that sparked in the hands of the people defending the compound. Like stars of Hell they rained down over the advancers. Whatever victory they thought might come from this was uncertain, but no one would speak against Gideon. It was an unspoken code; to directly meddle in the actions of fellow Arbiter, provided that they did not cross, unwittingly or not, into a situation already under a another Arbiter, was distasteful at the least and inexcusable at most, if unwanted.


Six figures astride motorcycles approached rapidly. Suited in exoskeletons fit for no other destiny than battle, each individualized but for the expectation of a diamond on the side of their helmets, the figures stopped in a hard jerk next to the truck. The dust waft like a blow of smoke from a pipe. The rustle of dirt did nothing to detract or add to the grit of the slums. The figure colored in white with light blue trim hopped off their motorcycle first. Next, the dark crimson, then followed by the white with black trim, the black and gold and black, the aqua, and finally the midnight blue. The midnight blue's behemoth of a motorcycle hummed, while the others grumbled hungrily.


The white with black trim appeared eerily slimmer than the others, as if they body must be unnaturally slender. Gold and black had a bigger build and stood the tallest. Aqua matched black and gold, but the barrel of the chest expanded wider. White with blue trim appeared to be tall, but slenderer. Crimson stood the shortest of them.


Beneath their exoskeletons, their skinsuits conformed to their bodies, but only slightly did their outer-layers allude to either male or female. Overall their attire exuded ambiguity. Crimson and Mid-Blue being the possible women of their band of fighters.


Hopping out into view off the back of the midnight blue figure was a small, lemur-like creature. It’s sleek, metal body perched on the shoulder. The long tail, ringed in black and white, wrapped around the arm of that side.


The midnight blue figure stepped forward, holding a fist up to command the group to pause.


A feminine voice called to the truck from a speaker in her helmet. “This is S’Rye Hollen with Diamond Division, reporting in for our rendezvous.” S'Rye glanced up to where the sounds of battle came. “Did we interrupt something?" A hint of some disappointment in her tone.


S'Rye and the others wondered if they had come late to the meeting point with the other Arbiters. Diamond Division, sponsored by Nobles in LuxCorp, did not just hold fashion high, but punctuality as well.
 
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(Apologies for the late response, there was a change in events in my day...)


-


The air wreaked of rust, gas, and pollution. It was thick with unhealthy smoke and dust as the female inhaled from under her helmet. Her golden hues watched as her fellow division members rode on there noble steeds of metal's work, keeping a sharp distance of the bike next to her. The female's face and eyes were hidden underneath a slick tinted shield that attached to her mask. She revved her engine, speeding past the person next to her until they came to a stop against the right side of a massive truck.


Hopping off of her motorcycle, Rin's gaze wandered along her Arbiter while she announced their arrival. Rin's lips tugging into a hidden away grin while S'Rye spoke, but it soon faded with the same disappointment of missing something tasteful.


Her eyes wandered along her peers who had taken off there helmets. Black and White had there's hugged around there hip, Light Blue Trim did the same. Welp, time to show your face.


Rin's gloved hands came up to her helmet, pulling off the fitted protector, and shook out her messy locks. Her eyes were a golden brown with her hair a light sandy colored blonde. Her nose was small as well as her eyebrows. Her face was round but with an edged jawline, making her choppy short hair cut look flawless. Her crimson suit fitted her body nicely, and she set her helmet in the bag on the back of her bike, and looked up at the tops of the buildings,


"Hey boss-" her words were quiet but Rin was close enough to S'Rye that she was able to hear, "We have company."


Rin slung her AS-50 Sniper Rifle from her back holster and stuffed a few extra magazines in between her hand gun carriers that rested on her thighs. She pointed her rifle up at the people on the roof, looking through her scope to see what was up and grinned,


"Nah S'Rye, we're just in time."
 
Atop the ruined skyscrapers of Ishtar's outer city, an infamous figure watched as the Arbiter's ramshackle armored personnel carrier arrived worth is squad of knights on steel horses. Their figures were outlined in a bright red despite the distance and from behind the well known mask of the Toaster, a slight huff came.


"Killers all over the shop." He said to himself standing up and lugging that deadly Napalm thrower in his left hand. "They'll all be one of 'em... sooner or later."


With that, the servos in his legs kicked into high gear and he ran from rooftop to rooftop. He moved with a worrying amount of speed for the bulk and cumbersome look of the armor and when he reached the building just above the scrap metal wall, the Ishtar Toaster took a leap of faith and plummeted down fifty feet easy before crashing down onto the wall with a thunderous boom, alerting all to his arrival with the deafening sound of his impact and a blinding cloud of rust.


One of the men mounting the wall's defence was thrown to the ground by the impact just infront of the Toaster. Others on the wall were shaken and stumbled about, many falling from the walls and landing with soft thus on the dirt and concrete below. The man infront of the Toaster however? He should have been so lucky. The vigilante's chest was beginning to glow, a quiet whirring emitting from the chest as he pointed a finger at the criminal before him. The man rolled onto his back and tried to fire his gun, but was interrupted by a blast of steam directly into his face and torso. His agonized screams could be heard over the fighting and shouting and almost caused a cinematic silence among the Fortress's defenders.


"Guilty." We're the words the Toaster said as the flow of steam halted and nothing but the bubbling remains of flesh quivered before him. A machine-like whirring suddenly kicked on as well as a sharp inhale from the back of his armor as he turned on the cooling fan once again, the heated armor begging for oxygen. His suit slowly began to fade from it's bright yellow glow and the man heaved the Napalm cannon up into both hands, leveled on a section of wall and released a jet stream of the glowing, burning, jelly onto whoever was so unfortunate to remain on the wall.


A quick spurt from the Cannon was all it took to cover a 120ft of wall or building with a boiling layer of homemade magma. While the walls burned, the Toaster kicked the gear to the gate and let it spin out of control, violently opening the gate to the walled criminal den. Jumping from the wall he began his own assault ahead of the Arbiters, leaving glowing pools of Napalm and smoldering bodies in his wake.
 
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Pop-pop-pop, pop-pop-pop!


Small dust pockets formed for each bullet that fell short of Diamond Division. Reviewing etiquette, S’Rye called for attention on the walls, signaling with her fingers to her crew to get into formation. It may not be appealing to butt-in on another Arbiters battle when not invited, but defending yourself was always allowed.


If they just hadn’t shot at us. S’Rye tsked in her mind.


“Alright. Knight, you and Morgan go left.” Knight, the gold and black, nodded, waving over Aqua to follow. “Rin, knock off who you can. Stick with me in the center when you’re free—“


“S’Rye” the white with blue trim’s tone protested.


Her wave gave no room for argument, “Oliver, you and RobEn can take right.” RobEn, the slimmer Arbiter, took his place behind the one dressed in the white with blue trim battle-suit. S’Rye whispered to the perky creature of steel on her shoulder, “You go wait with Hatch, Olly.” The lemur leapt off of her shoulder and scurried to the humming motorcycle.


They had barley gotten ten feet into the fight when a whirl of air and high pitched whistle announced the shot of a dust bomb, aimed right at Morgan. He lifted his arm in reaction. A colored light expanded between him and the projectile; inches from his forearm, about the length of his body.


BOOOF!


Tiny metal shards exploded over them in a cloud of coarse dirt. Shell-shielding did nothing to prevent scratches, but at least the impact had been nulled. Knight glanced up, following the pulsing yellow outline.


There. Knight spotted a man loading another dust-bomb into his launcher. Kicking his MegaBoots into gear, Knight signaled Morgan to evade with him, letting Rin take out the left wall-men for them. It was the people along his side that mattered.


S’Rye had taken center, quite a bit behind Gideon, but she was catching up. Like Morgan and Knight, she and the others flung up momentary shields when anything bigger than a bullet came at them, or they sped up using their enhanced speed. Each suit had general abilities. Any alteration had to be requested at the design stage. Sustained flying took too much power, but S’Rye knew she just had to take it up a step. Tailored to her specifications, shock absorbing extenders flipped out from S’Rye’s boots when she made a small jump. To anyone coming upon her, it looked like she grew a yard taller with mutant legs that bowed in a crescent shape. Scrunching her joints, S'Rye pushed hard off the ground and soared above eye-level of the gate. In that same motion, she pulled out her plasma pistols.


Byoo-BOOM, Byoo-BOOM


Balls of blue heat hit flesh. Men shrieked and held their arms, or fell silent off the walls, some abandoned their posts even now. But far more yelled and pointed when that thud of Toast came upon them. Many ran off when the figure came toting liquid fire. S’Rye’s calculated jump landed her close to the gate now. Spatters of Toast's signature weapon sizzled on the shell-shield that conformed to her body in response to sudden heat, where it just might have landed on S’Rye’s suit itself. Instead, the burning liquid rolled off the shell-shield like droplets of water off a waxed car. The ground suffered it’s boiling tears. So much for charging straight on to the front of the gate, with all that Toaster had spewed.


Hm. S’Rye didn’t know what to make of Toaster. Looking left, Morgan and Knight were battling out on the wall. Turning right, RobEn and Oliver were engaged in ground battle. They looked in control. While they were busy, why not just—


“S’Rye, wait for us.” Oliver private com’d-in to S’Rye in a grunt.


“Oliver, stop.” S’Rye pursed her lips. Oliver couldn’t see, but he could guess.


“S’R—


Sprinting forward to the steaming gate that dripped in burning napalm, S’Rye came several yards closer before jumping again. The ground shrunk as she soared over the trail left on the wall by Toaster. Her tracker counted a dozen men gathering beneath to meet her. Several of the ones on perches and make-shift towers shot at her as she dropped amongst them. S’Rye acted in kind, scattering them; clearing a path. Her body twisted so that her fist met the ground, forming a dome-shield around her in a ten-foot radius. hand grenades and dust bombs ricocheted off of the pentagonal shapes of light guarding S’Rye. Turning behind her, she caught sight of the door and transmitted the image of the locked gate, just in case she failed to unlock it herself. Gang members already were surrounding her.


“Dam it S’Rye.” Oliver growled, sticking a knife through his enemies head before facing the gate.


“Sir,” RobEn spoke up, not a hint out of breath. “ Three of the last gangers on our side are too injured to come face to face. We are clear to assist Madam.”


Oliver frowned at the thought of turning his back on an unfinished fight. Yet, it’s not like he couldn’t leave those three to the others. Oliver nodded, going off to the gate. He could jump it, with some difficulty, if he didn’t have to worry about all that napalm. Any other time would have been great for Toast to suddenly appear like a phantom out of the shadows.


I really got to get those boot extenders. Oliver thought to himself while looking at the height S'Rye had jumped.


Running scans, Oliver mapped out alternate routes, but he did not need to worry about it anymore. The doors before him jolted and then burst out. The sound of shrieking metal made Oliver cringe.


A sea of faces turned to him.


The floodgates were opened.
 
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Before S'Rye's assault and just after the Toaster's sudden appearance, Gideon had leaped clear over the wall and completely ignored the gunfire spattering after him as he dashed further into the small fortress, inside the buildings themselves. He had lost track of his deputies and had no idea who the man with the flamethrower was, but if he was burning gangers then that made him an ally, for now at least.


Tackling through the closed door of the main building and shattering it to splinters, Gideon bulldozed into a narrow hallway where he was immediately met by a hail of small arms fire.


"This is our house, motherfucker!" one of the shooters shouted as he fired. "We ain't going down without a fight!"


"Cute," Gideon said as he raised his knives, ignoring the rounds ricocheting off his armoured skin as he bulldozed into the defenders.


With a violent burst of speed, he slashed both knives in a cross through the body of the first man within reach, who died with his finger still on the trigger of his gun, spraying down all of his comrades to the left. Turning to his right, Gideon plowed through the rest of the men in his way, not even having to use his knives as he crushed them into a brick wall, all three of them.


"Shit, I should have left one of them alive," he muttered regrettably as he stepped away, letting the men fall to the floor in a heap, their bodies crushed into gristle. Amazingly however, just as Gideon was about to walk away, one of them gave out a choked cough and managed to spit in his direction.


Crouching down next to the dying man, Gideon pointed his knife at him and said, "Tell me where your boss is and I'll end it quick."


"Fuch oo, mang," the ganger replied in a gargle of blood as he laughed feebly. "Yoo gon die her, mang."


Gideon jammed his thumb into the man's crushed ribs, making him gasp in agony before asking again, "Where?"


"Hesh gurn... gurn already. D'know wer."


"What a pain in the dick," Gideon muttered as he delivered a swift thrust into the side of the man's head, silencing him for good.


A dying man could still lie of course, but Gideon had no choice but to search the entire compound to verify his words and the more time spent doing that meant more time for the leader of the den to gain more ground if he had in fact already fled.


Punching a hole through the wall into the next building, Gideon proceeded to begin his search, clearing one room at a time. By the time he had reached the last building, dispatching the remaining defenders along the way, he was sure that there was no sign of the leader.


Where the fuck did he go? he thought as he turned back the way he came.


Meanwhile back at the rendezvous point, Asher was hunkering down in the cab of his truck, which was like a mini-bunker with its steel shutters rolled down. Watching the battle through eye slits in the shutters, Asher saw a small unmarked car surreptitiously passing through an alleyway and into the street.


As the car passed by, Asher caught a glimpse of the driver within and immediately recognized him as the gang leader of this area. Wiser men would have sought to maintain their anonymity, but then were others who wanted to be seen and feared by all. This gang leader was one such man and judging by how quietly he was trying to flee from battle, it had proven to be his downfall.


Gunning the engine, Asher moved to follow at a distance and he wondered just where the gang lord was planning to go. It was worth finding out before calling in reinforcements.
 
Jumping into the fray, Morgan dropped down with Knight among the gangers and fellow Arbiters. Bodies exploded, heads flew. Gangers thinned until men thought better of it and chanced running for safety. S’Rye had no blood-lust. Anyone who could make it out of the battlefield, could go, if they made it. They were meant to keep gangs controlled, not exterminate the human population in the OC.


Not everyone agreed.


Morgan chased the two men he had been fighting between a slender alley, taking a sharp turn through pillars of broken housing. He shot blasts of plasma at them as he went. Cement and sheet rock flew out at the sides on impact. The cloud of dusty mist smudged the image of the fighters. The three of them found themselves in an enclosed space, surrounded by buildings with a half dozen marksmen in the second story. The two gangers grinned, turning around to face Morgan whose body lost footing. Ropes hidden beneath rubbish tightened. Morgans body swooped into the air, arms tangled in a mess of wire.


The idiom ‘trapped like a rat’ just wasn’t sweet enough.


Gangers all around indulged in mocking banter. The two men Morgan chased didn’t hold back their own mirth. Without hesitation, they all shot at the Arbiter. Morgan’s body flickered and then vanished. A roar of disbelief and dismay rose up. Confusion mounted as shots fired from someplace, picked off the visible ambushers in the second story. Morgan appeared out from behind the pillar where the three had come running, raining plasma hell on the gangers until each one fell silent.


Scanning quickly, he saw only five life-signs in a building adjacent to him. One of them being Knight. Wait, no, four life signals. The loss of a light indicating a death. Morgan felt intrigued. Knight wasn’t usually a person to kill sitting ducks. Sauntering in to the room, Morgan heard them talking.


“—is Lucia, and I am Alashanee.” The Native American girl said. Her big, brown eyes were weary beyond her young years, just falling short of matching the hazel gaze of the old Spanish beauty beside her. Black hair streaked with strands like milk.


“What’s this?” Morgan asked, interrupting any current conversation.


Knight inclined his head, “Charity workers; Neutrals.” Knight told Morgan that he came upon them shortly before Morgan came.


“And him?” Morgan gestured to the wide-eyed man next to them.


“He’s their patient.” Knight answered.


Morgan sized up the man laying down with his leg wrapped in a cast.


Summer stripped away the need to wear much clothes. Tattoos, knife scars, track marks. There it was to see.


“He’s a ganger.” Morgan corrected apathetically.


Knight’s visor retracted at that. Morgan did so too, as if to meet the quiet challenge. They argued with expressions first. Knight giving Morgan reproachful glares and Morgan criticizing Knight with his umber eyes. Disagreements of the past would have no mutual satisfying resolve within this moment. What to do, what to do?


“I came in here first.” Knight reasoned firmly. “I’ll handle the situation.”


Ah yes, fall back on general courtesy.


The other exhaled forcefully and jerked his head to look to the side. “As if you would just turn the other way if I wanted to ‘handle’ it myself if I came in here first.” Morgan responded wryly, shifting his weight to look back at Knight with a hard stare.


All the while Alashanee’s temper increasingly suppressed the warning in her head not to involve herself. Her copper complexion colored with impatience and indignation. “Enough!” Alashanee pushed away the hand of her older friend to stand up to the Arbiters. “I don’t care what power the people over the wall say you have. It’s sick, the way you stand there talking about killing Ethan, like his life is decided on by your whims of preference.” The impetuous Native American stood between the Arbiters and the injured man. Arms outspread, palms facing back protectively.


Morgan looked down amusedly. “How old are you, twelve?” Knight briefly hit Morgans shoulder with the back of his armored hand.


Salvaging the situation, and subtly impressing upon the people present that he, in fact, did not have a heart carved from iced obsidian, Knight said, “Look, we— I mean I, wasn’t trying to talk that way. Ethen, and you guys, will be fine.” He assured them, glancing sternly at Morgan.


Morgan flipped his visor down again. Knight did so too. After a moment, Lucia began to help Ethan from his slouched position on the mat. Warily, Alashanee watched the Arbiters with her peripheral as she bent to help her comrade. Just as Knight offered his hand, the com blipped.


“Diamond Division report to the gate.” S’Rye’s voice announced. “Alpha”





“Bravo” Morgan responded.


Oliver com’d in “Charlie”





“Delta” Knight said, pulling back his hand and running out with Morgan. The rest of Diamond Division answered likewise; Echo for RobEn,Foxtrot for Rin. Now that roll-call had accounted for all members of Diamond Division, S’Rye felt more at ease.


RobEn and Oliver arrived first. S’Rye didn’t have to see Oliver’s face to know he would be giving her an earful later on. Just the way he walked and the intent focus his ambiguous visor aimed towards her was enough to make S’Rye try and occupy herself with keeping an eye out for the rest of Diamond Division. Morgan and Knight were running up to them.


Oh good, here they are. S’Rye sighed in relief.


Now for the other two. S’Rye com’d Olly and Hatch. The motorcycle came rolling up without a rider, or rather, the traditional sort. Olly hopped, taking flight to land on S’Rye’s shoulder. Hatch parked himself right along side S’Rye.


“S’Rye.” Knight made a nod. Morgan only stood in silence.


“Anything of consequence?” S’Rye asked them, avoiding Oliver.


Morgan shrugged. Knight shook his head. “Nothing much. Just another gangers den.”


Oliver spoke, “Well, there is something new.” he gestured towards Toaster. S’Rye and the others took notice.


“Anyone know him?”


“Toaster.” Knight answered.


Morgan added on, “He’s brutal, he’s ruthless. Look at that monster he’s toting. Gotta have strong muscular arms for that, bro. Toaster is Ishtar’s OC legend.”


“Oo-la-la, he sounds like your kind of guy, Morgan.” Knight nudged, chuckling as he paraphrased Morgans words teasingly , “Gotta have strong, muscular arms.


“Shut up the fuck up Knight.” Morgan snapped quietly, kicking a bit of dirt his way.


“Settle down.” S’Rye waved. She had to get on track with her schedule. Taking apart a gangers den was all in good fun, but now it was business. “Where’s Gideon?” She asked, looking around.


“Asher isn’t here either.” Oliver frowned.


“Hm.” S’Rye whispered to Olly, and the little lemur leapt into the air, flying around like a birds-eye view. Olly swooped around buildings and in-between cars. Each of her Arbiters were given access to Olly’s vision. “See anything guys?”
 
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The smell of Napalm, the sight of fire, the grim duty of culling the ravenous hordes of gangsters and criminals that festered in the Outer City like a fetid cancer. All these things were familiar to the Ishtar Toaster, the arrival of Arbiters and Deputies were nothing of concern to him. They were potential targets just as much as the criminals who desperately tried to fight back against the Over Powered armors of the Arbiters. The fire was consuming them as much as the bullets, while the Arbiters seemed to let those who run, run... The Toaster had far more gruesome plans and moved with the agility and speed thought impossible by the hulking suit of hand-fashioned power armor. Any that he could catch would get a face full of steam to boil their skin away, or a power armored fist caving in their skull. Those who could outrun him, got a blast from a firehose of fire.


The Arbiters that now dotted the field of battle were irrelevant. While he didn't particularly aim at them, he certainly didn't bother trying to avoid friendly fire- if they got in his way or walked into the path of the jet stream of jellied hell, they'd feel the burn. By the time the gunfire had died down and the boiled carcass of the former Gangster's Den could be surveyed, the Toaster began kicking in doors and burning whoever and whatever waited inside. He noticed the Arbiters leaving a building and noticed that his motion trackered picked up someone in that building from the window. The hulking man approached the Arbiters and held his Napalm cannon in his left hand alone.


"Who's in that building?" the Toaster demanded, he hulked over the Arbiters in his power armor, as wide as two of them and just as tall. He pointed a finger at the building where these 'charity workers' were hiding and repeated himself. "I saw someone in the window. Who's in that building?"
 
Listening to what Toaster meant to the OC, being the outer city, and the IC, the inner city, S’Rye decided that he fit the description of a Blood-Rouge. She had little respect for Blood-Rouges. They often killed whoever, whenever. The worst sorts held ‘ideals’, whatever they might be, and acted on them regardless of who they affected.


“Well, he can do what he wants, as long as he doesn’t interfere with our business.” S’Rye concluded.


Just before she gave a command to make a temporary hold at their rendezvous point, the scanner showed Toast coming towards them. S’Rye made motions with her fingers, and her division came at her side in formation. Knight and Morgan took left, Oliver and RobEn took right. Rin knew where to go. Then, she made a fist to command a pause.


Toasters landing made the ground tremble. ”Who's in that building?" the Toaster demanded. "I saw someone in the window. Who's in that building?"


S’Rye stepped forward to talk, but then she tilted her head. In Toasters view, all he could see was that she looked back at the set of Arbiters to her left. The three of them looked intently at each other. Lacking the queue’s of expression, Toaster wouldn’t be able to make out their hidden conversation.


Tell him to go f’ing look himself, we don’t have to hold his hand like he’s some little kid.” Morgan snorted.


Knight interrupted, “S’Rye, we don’t know if he is the kind of guy who would kill people who help gangers. If we tell him, and he kills that girl and old lady…


For once, Knight has a point.” Morgan and the others discussed what might be done, and despite Knights subtle protest, they made their decision that included various scenarios in case things fell apart.


Finally, S’Rye stepped aside to let the aqua Arbiter forward. “I’m Cody Morgan of Diamond Division, I have been in that building and I know who is in there. An old lady and young woman, apart of some Charity, are attending to the injuries of one of these gangers. If you want to kill the ganger, be my guest. However, I’ll be coming along to make sure that the child and old woman are not harmed. Got that?”
 
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The cold steel face of the Ishtar Toaster's mask was all that responded. One could only imagine what such a hulking figure had in mind, having showed he already had little respect for the dead and burned his enemies with fire, boiled their skin and flesh with steam. He was quiet for a long while, running the idea through his head; the charity workers were only doing what they thought was right, they had the best intentions in mind... however some of the worst things imaginable were some with the best intentions. Was the person who sold a gun to an Assassin not as guilty as though they pulled the trigger?


He made his decision.


He didn't say a word, he merely lugged the Napalm cannon over his shoulder to rest it's weight on the armor's pauldron. Pivoting at 180 degrees he stormed off to the building, walking with intent, his giant strides almost making as fast as a regular person jogging. When the Arbiter followed the Toaster spoke to him alone.


"Those who help evil, are evil. I will give them a chance to absolve themselves of their deeds, but if they are guilty I WILL judge them. " he said, his head and eyes facing forward. "If you are truly intent on stopping me, then I insist that you get your allies. I've faced Arbiters before, they're bold, over confident, I don't want to kill you or your allies. But interfere, and you will leave me with no choice." He explained, awarding Morgan a glance down towards him. "Be thankful I'm giving them a chance to explain themselves."
 
Keeping up with his strides, twice the arms distant away, Morgan’s facial response could still not be read due to his helmet. He listened while Toast spoke to him alone until the napalm-toting beast had said his last word.


Do not judge, lest ye be judged. It had just popped into Morgans head.


Probably because of Knight. It must have risen out of Morgan’s subconscious because Morgan was sure that he often tuned Knight out when the man got into—well, tried to get into— philosophical discussions. Morgan didn't dwell too long on that verse. To him, it was merely sentiment.


“Seriously? Those who help evil, are evil?” Morgan’s brazen tone inflected rhetorically. “Don’t rationalize killing a little girl and a crippled old lady to me, Toast.” Morgan responded coolly. “We are men of action; our weapons speak for themselves.”


The aqua suited Arbiter gestured to the pathway he had to go through. Junk piled in new places when the battle had finished. The only way that was clear now, had been the one Morgan gone through with the men that tried to ambush him. They passed through the pillars, stepped over dead bodies Morgan had shot, and then through the short alley to the room where three life-signs pulsed in blue on his screen.


A short rustling was heard before Morgan and the Toaster opened the door and saw the bald ganger hobbling quickly away on a make-shift crutch. The young girl and old woman were tied up on the ground, with a cloth wrapped around their mouths, their backs facing each other. Angry tears stained the girl's cheeks, and the old woman was saying something in Spanish, but it was too muffled to understand.


Morgan looked over at the Toaster, wondering just what he might think of this situation. He inclined his head towards the scene, as if to ask Toast if he were ready to inquire if the Charity-workers were willing to absolve themselves of their deeds.
 
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Standing still, the Toaster didn't even seem interested in the hobbling Raider. The empty glass eyes of the mask seemed to slowly pan over the room, eventually making its way back to the fleeing criminal. A sharp breath of air escaped the mask as power armored figure heaved his Napalm cannon into his left arm and aimed the hulking weapon with a single hand. He just barely tugged on the level and out sprayed a large blob of the molten jelly. Splashing against the fleeing criminal, he immediately ignited into flames and the room was haunted by his agonized screams for a seldom few seconds before nothing but a writhing charcoal mass was left in his place.


The Toaster turned his head to face the Arbiter, his silence said it all. Lifting the Cannon into both arms he turned it on the two tied up together and visibly had his hand on the lever, it'd only take a twitch and they'd be toast.


"Like a muddied spring or a polluted fountain is a righteous man who gives way before the wicked." He said before silently staring at the girl and the elder. "Take this as a lesson, you're fortunate he merely tied you up and tried to escape. Under different circumstances, had I not come busting through this wicked place bringing fire and death -you may have been dead. Or wished you were." He spoke his peace, drumming his fingers on the lever of the Cannon before turning it away from them and setting it on the ground beside him. The hulking figure crouched down, still he towered over the two, he matched the height of the Arbiter. With a massive gauntlet, he pulled the cloth from their mouths and used a jagged piece of the ramshackle armor to cut them free.


"Acts of goodness are not always wise, and acts of evil are not always foolish, but regardless, we should always strive to be good." He said to them, with an affirmative nod and a surprisingly gentle hand places on their shoulders.


The Toaster stood up and turned to the Arbiter. "Next time, be wise enough to not leave a child and an old woman with a murderer."
 
The smoldering body left nothing on it unscarred. Even the ring on his pinky melted a little into his black skin.


Being released, Alashanee turned her face into the shoulder of Lucia. “Gracias…” the old woman whispered to Toast.


Alashanees sobs poured into the old woman’s heart; so it might receive all the young ones pain. One day Alashanee will have the experience to contain such vast amounts of sorrow, but until then, what else could Lucia do but take on her grief? Morgan stood for a moment, watching them. He wasn’t the touch-feely kind of guy. That was Knight.


Speaking of, “You guys are taking a bit long.”


It’s all fine, Knight, damn.” Morgan com’d back.


How are things?


They are alive. Gangers dead.


And the other two, how are they?


A mess.”


A short pause made Morgan grumble. He was sure he knew exactly what Knight was thinking about doing. When the man com’d Morgan back, he gave himself a score-point on the ‘I am right’ board.


Ask them if they will come with us. We can drop them off at their nearest base, or charity building.


Morgan understood it as ‘tell them’, so he said to the two grieving women, “Hey. It’s dangerous out here. Where is your base?”


“We don’t have a ‘base’, Arbiter.” Alashanee had gained some steady breathing, allowing her to talk, but her voice quivered.


That biting spirit made Morgan feel like there was sizable amount of spunk in the girl. “Whatever kid. Do you want some kind of escort or not?”


It would be prudent to take help from such noble assistance, would it not? Lucia glanced up at him. “Sí por favor. No estamos lejos.” she said.


The words translated immediately into English, “Yes, please. We are not far.”


Morgan held up a hand to show Alashanee he didn’t need her to tell him what Lucia had said. “Come on.” He offered a hand. Not in the habit of being considerate, he let the two stand up off the floor just as Knight said. “Help them up, will you?” Morgan responded blandly with, “Whoops.”


The two stood, but Alashanee asked for privacy to relieve herself. Lucia decided to wait outside the door with Toast and Morgan while she had her moment. Once she was done, Alashanee walked with Lucia behind Morgan. The young girl still sniffling, whispering to Lucia about her woes. The old woman wrapped an arm around the girl, nodding compassionately. For a moment, as they passed through the pillars, Alashanee thought she saw a shadow of an unknown person. To her realization, it was just Morgan passing behind a pillar.


Morgan felt uncomfortable with sentiment, so he stayed beside Toast, heading towards his band of Arbiters. “Now…just curious.” He said to Toast. “When you say they would have had to absolve themselves, would a simple ‘We helped him because he’s a human’ been enough?” That had been interesting, that part. What was a ‘good reason’ not to kill the people willing to aid the enemy?
 
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Keeping his face forward, the Toaster rolled his shoulders and lugged the Napalm cannon onto aforementioned shoulders. He started walking away from the old lady and the child, keeping quiet as he stirred Morgan's question around in his head. Cocking his helmet slightly towards Morgan as they trudged through the smouldering remains of the Criminal den.


"No." He said said bluntly as he made his way outside, ensuring Morgan was always in front of him, even if it was just slightly. "If I was not here, and that... person got away." the Toaster shook his head, returning his helmet to stare directly in front of him. "Any manner of things could've happened. He could've recovered, joined a different gang, killed more innocent people." his seemed to fluctuate, the very idea of this seemed to make him upset. "He could've violated those two, killed them, taken them hostage, forced them into slavery. The list goes on Arbiter, the enemy is just that. The ENEMY. They are not human beings, regardless of their reasons they fought against us. If those two had been forced to fight us, they would be the enemy and I would kill them all the same. There is NO justification for being a slave... to Criminal Kings, or to Nobles who think themselves so greater because they hide behind their technology." The Toaster stopped and heaved the Napalm cannon in both his hands now, looking down at Morgan once again. "So Arbiter, your answer is; No. It would NOT have been enough."
 
Morgan allowed Toaster to walk behind him. He knew why Toaster wanted to do that, but Morgan didn’t let that bother him. Shadows are impervious to napalm.


Upon Hearing the answer, Morgan felt he may not have had to ask the question. Still, curiosity had won out. And a little, tiny part of him, wanted those two behind them to hear it.


“You didn’t disappoint, Toast.” Morgan grinned beneath his helmet.


The two were not looking back at Alashanee and Lucia, but if they had, they might have seen confusion on the young ones face, and resignation for Lucia. Not that the old one agreed, but that it had not been anything new for past experiences. The old one continued to talk with the girl, soothing her.


They all reached the rendezvous point, where S’Rye and the others waited for the two Charity workers and Morgan. Seeing Toast, Knight grew tense inside. Oliver placed a hand on his shoulder. Rin stood in wait near S’Rye and RobEn. She never really stood too close to Oliver. Even Olly was hard to interact with.


Once they reached them, Lucia and Alashanee were given to the care of Olly, who had come back from his search to check them over with scans and heal wounds with his technology.


A flying med-unit. The best thing I could bring. S’Rye thought. Then she turned to the others. “We’re waiting to see what happened to Gideon and Asher.” She began, then looked at Toast. “You can stay, as long as you don’t interfere…but I prefer you go.”


Morgan vanished from in front of them all, and from behind them he came sauntering over out from the direction of the buildings. His cloaking now deactivated, making his life sign on the screen blip where it was appropriate. “Looks like my holo-figure finally played out.” he shrugged, taking his spot with them. A tiny ball that hovered zipped over to Morgan and set into his armor.


Knights left foot stomped lightly, and he shifted his weight. “Did you even plan on saving them?!” He com’d directly to Morgan alone.


Don’t get your panties in a twist. I had my own plans, Knight. They’re safe, aren’t they? Cool it.” Morgan stopped it at that.


They awaited news from Gideon and Asher. While they did so, S'Rye took Rin aside momentarily.


"Look, you're new in my division, so I won't give you a penalty for it today, but never- NEVER- take your helmet off unless given permission. Arbiters die from mistakes more than they have died from enemies." She said gravely.


Rin nodded, having understood. Apart of her was glad S'Rye had taken her aside. Scolding her in front of people wouldn't have been appealing. Putting her helmet back on, Rin let a blow of air out of relief.
 
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Asher drove his truck down the street, tailing the gang leader's car from a distance as he turned one corner after the next, apparently zigzagging his way towards an apartment building. It wasn't very far away from the walled compound and the neutral zone would've been within sight even from ground level, so what on earth was that ganger thinking of by going there?


Approaching another corner, Asher turned to find out, but what he saw next immediately made him slam down on the brakes then change gear to reverse. His heart leaping in his mouth with a shock of adrenaline, he frantically hit the accelerator to back away and out of the street as the gang leader climbed out of his car with a grenade launcher.


"You think I didn't notice you, dumb fuck?" he shouted before pulling the trigger.


The first shot blew a crater in the road just a metre away from Asher's truck, throwing up a shower of dust and bitumen. Asher cursed repeatedly as the shockwave buffeted him around inside the cab and in a moment of sheer panic, he kicked the door open then dived out before a second explosion tore into its engine.


The truck was instantly turned into a flaming wreck and Asher ran away just far enough to avoid the inferno as a secondary explosion roared into the air, a black combustion of burnt fuel. Taking refuge in an alleyway, Asher peeked around the corner to see the gang leader fleeing into the apartment building with what looked like a detonator in his hand.


Why the hell does he have that? Asher thought as he ran out to follow.


Having had no time to take his pistol from the truck, he was completely unarmed saved for a knife at his belt, but he had a strong feeling that whatever the gang lord was up to, he had to be stopped now before it was too late.


~~~


Meanwhile at the walled compound, Gideon was passing a room he had already cleared until he noticed something on the floor inside. Halting by the doorway, he scanned the ground using his augmented vision and saw the outline of a trapdoor hidden beneath a carpet.


Steeping into the room and dragging aside the carpet with his toe, Gideon hummed with satisfaction as he expected to find the leader of the den hiding below and quivering in fear. He could have used his thermal vision to confirm this, but he did not want to spoil the surprise for himself.


As it turned out, the trapdoor was flush with the floor and needed a key to unlock, but Gideon simply jammed his holo-knives into the edges and levered it out, using his hard-light blades as crowbars. Anticipating gunfire, Gideon jumped down through the trapdoor with knives at the ready, feeling for all the world like a triumphant predator.


That feeling was quickly quashed as he came face to face with a tactical nuclear warhead, just big enough to level the entire compound and the surrounding streets. Sending out an emergency signal, he shouted as he broadcast his alert to all nearby Arbiters, "There's a fucking nuke under the compound, everybody clear out!"


Gideon didn't even look back as he jumped out from the basement and tackled through wall after wall in his haste to get as far away as possible.
 
C’mon, Morgan. ‘Panties in a twist’? I’m not in the kidding mood, these are lives we are talking about.” Knights tone implied a frowning face.


Morgan ignored Knight, cutting off his com to him. The two may have only ever gotten on each others nerves once in a while, but it was just often enough that Morgan wondered how he ended up in this position, in this particular Division, with this particular guy.


It must be cruel fate. Morgan sighed inwardly. Maybe being stuck with Knight is karma for when I lied about drinking my brothers last expensive beer, or when I seduced my ex’s best friend out of spite and then dumped her. Morgan mulled over those possibilities while blocking off Knight.


However, his thoughts were interrupted with a little ditty that went something like— “AAAAH!”


There's a fucking nuke under the compound, everybody clear out!” They heard from Gideon.


S’Rye got everyone in motion, “Bikes! Now!” She yelled, and then pointed at the two Charity workers “Knight, get the—“


“Got it!” Knight ushered the old lady and young woman onto Hatch. They were the most vulnerable of the group; Hatch was the best bet for their survival. Toast was left to decide on his own which way he might go. Diamond Division had concerns enough at this point, and besides, he was probably gonna be just fine.


S’Rye jumped onto Oliver’s bike, and just glanced back to see Gideon was still quite near the compound. “Knight, get over there and snatch up Gideon, and Asher if you can see him. But don’t risk yourself unnecessarily.”


“If you wanted less risky, you should have asked Morgan. I’ll be right back.” Knight zipped over for Gideon, ready to grab his hand as he stretched it to the left. If he timed it right, he could have Gideon on his bike, and ready to swerve around in a 180.
 
Silently observing the Arbiters in their panic, the Toaster rolled his shoulders. Lugging the heavy cannon onto his shoulder once again as they started to clear out.


"What's the problem?" He tried to say as they all began to ride off on their motorcycles. Figuring they were off to face a new enemy, he gave pursuit. Crouching down and locking his legs in position, a loud his was heard before he was spring shot into the air at incredible speeds. Arcing over some buildings he could see the fireball caused by Asher's truck and when he landed with a thunderous explosion, he immediately took off in a run. Much faster than any thing as large as him had any right to be.


Arriving at the destroyed truck in just a few minutes of running, the Toaster screeched to a halt just infront of the truck, his breathing hadn't changed at all and he scanned the area for life, spotting Asher almost immediately. Heaving the Cannon into his hands he twisted a canister into place, ensuring it was loaded.


"You! What's going on?!" He shouted at Asher, loud when emulated through his mask's speakers. His finger on the dispersal lever, cannon aimed at the hiding Arbiter deputy.
 
"There's a WHAT under the compound?" Asher replied when he heard Gideon's alert through his earpiece.


That explains the detonator, he thought as he ran for the apartment building... until the Toaster arrived, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and aiming his monstrosity of a weapon at Asher. Like a towering demon knight, the man stood in front of the burning wreckage of the truck as though he were the one responsible for it. The stench of oil filled the air, but did little to overpower the fear Asher felt at this very moment.


Stopping dead in his tracks, the deputy threw up his hands and frantically replied, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, I'm not armed, look!" Then jabbing a finger towards the apartment building, he continued in a swift babble, "The guy who blew up my truck is in there, he's got a grenade launcher and the detonator for a goddamn nuke, right in the middle of his own territory. All the Arbiters are after him, I'm just the guide, I swear!"


Just as Asher finished speaking, Gideon's voice came through in his earpiece, "Asher, what the fuck is going on? Who are you talking to?"


"I-" Asher pointed at his ear and said to the Toaster, "One of the Arbiters."


"Asher?"


"Gideon, jesus, I saw him, I saw Barzoi. He's in the apartment building we passed on the way to the compound, he's got the detonator. What the hell do I do?"


"Do nothing, wait until I get there. Now who were you talking to just then?"


Asher looked up at the Toaster and merely said his name.


"The what?" Gideon replied incredulously. "The fuck kind of a stupid name is that? Well whatever, what's his deal then, is he friend or foe?"


"I guess that's up to him."


Gideon did not like the sound of that, but then again there was very little to like in the outer city. Riding backseat on a bike with another man for example was not at all favourable, but if it got him away from the compound faster than running, then so be it.


Tapping Knight on the shoulder, Gideon relayed everything Asher had told him. "And for the record," Gideon added. "It's my deputy who found us this mission in the first place, so I'll be calling the shots. Is that going to be a problem?"
 
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“Providence has seen fit to send Diamond Division to assist you, Sir. I’m in the unfortunate position of confirming that you call the shots.” Knight revved the engine harder speeding up his motorcycle even faster. "Tell your man not to engage Toaster in anyway. It's best if he just lets the large man know you're on his side and get to us safely." What Morgan had told him of their conversation left no trust in Knight for Toaster.
 
Unsure of the man's honesty, the hulking vigilante was ready to hose Asher down in a healthy coating of chemical fire. When he shot his hands up and confessed to being unarmed, the Toaster didn't flinch, didn't falter, he could of easily been lying but inside the advanced mask utilized by the Toaster; he could see no charred remains in the truck, and Asher had been running towards the building when he arrived.


"You're a guide? Then guide me to Barzoi, if what you say is true than there's a reason he hasn't detonated the bomb yet." The Toaster held the Napalm cannon in one arm, fingers in the trigger as he grabbed Asher by the shoulder with an armored hand the size of his head. The Toaster ushered Asher towards the buildings and took a few steps behind him, aiming the cannon at his back once again.


"I don't care what your fellow pretend soldier, Arbiters have told you. We aren't wasting time standing here while he prepares to detonate a nuke." He said scanning the buildings, he couldn't see any highlights so he probably wasn't in a window. "If he has a grenade launcher, I suppose I should go first. I'll take point once we're inside, now MOVE." He ordered and started walking forward, pressing the barrel of his cannon into Asher's back and forcing him to walk forward with him.
 
Azure stayed in position. Sure, he didn't like this Barzoi person, but a job was a job, and he had a debt to pay off, and the sooner that was done, the better. The Arbiters down there seemed to be worried about something, he mused, shifting slightly to get a better view through the scope of his sniper rifle. The person with the napalm launcher didn't look much like an Arbiter though, but he had to be. After all, he was, after a fashion, working with them. Azure frowned he needed better jobs, that preferably didn't involve the Arbiters. Barzoi was probably gonna die anyway, and, although he had half of his payment, it'd be... annoying, if he didn't get all his cash.
 
Knight, have you cleared the bomb?” S’Rye com’d.


I think we’re near the edge at least.” Knight responded.


Well I don’t see you guys, where are you?


Gideon is directing us towards Barzoi, the crime Boss, Asher his deputy, and Toaster—


Ugh. Him?


Yeah, him. I know what you mean Boss, it’s not who you want to hear about. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but here’s hoping we stop that detonation.” Knight said. “Where are you guys?


Here.” S’Rye sent him the coordinates. It was a cluster of blue dots, a few blocks off from where Knight and Gideon were now. “When you get back we’re heading to drop off these two Charity workers.


Right.” Knight hoped that Toaster would not be coming with them. It was like having an annoying fly buzzing around your head. Except this fly was clad in armor, holding a gun that could spew lava, and whose whims Knight couldn’t predict.


To Knight, Toaster might think he is judging wisely, but there was little mercy in his actions besides letting the two women live. That, Knight was sure, was allowed for the fact that they had been punished in a way, for having helped the limping ganger…


Mercy without Justice is dissolution; Justice without Mercy is cruelty. Knight recalled. No two virtues complimented each other as perfectly. At least in Knight's opinion.
 
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