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Growing Pains

Flare dropped back to his knees, staring at the girl with Jay's voice echoing through his head. The girl turned to Jay with a questioning look.

"They're your new classmates." Jay informed her. "Sybil Heritance and Flare Wingspan."

Now it was the girl's turn to look dumbfounded. Her gaze returned to Cibbie and Flare as her jaw dropped.

"D-daddy?" she stammered.

Flare stood back up and swung his fist around. Hazard caught it, the momentum sliding him across the floor slightly.

"WHY?!" Flare yelled, his face breaking out into tears as he weakly fell back to his knees. "Why did you tell me she was dead?!" Hazard let Flare's fist go. Cibbie knelt down and pulled him into a comforting embrace.

"Explain yourself!" She snapped at Hazard.

"I do not have to explain myself to you." He said, plain faced. Yet again a card wedged into his clothes.

"Then explain to me." Delta said, walking in and taking the card. "You are on thin ice as it is, Hazard; do not make me tell father about this."

Hazard humphed. "Fine." He growled. "When Fortune was given to me at the conclusion of the Endgame scenario, you told me that you wanted me to keep her alive. That task was, technically, impossible and she died shortly after you were taken by the authorities. I did what you asked me to do and kept her alive, having her mind and soul imprinted digitally into the unit you see before you. She still learns and grows as any child would, as the brain is exactly duplicate down to the finest detail. She is, in every way except biologically, Fortune Wingspan."

Flare carefully got to his feet and walked up to Fortune, looking her up and down.

"You're a bit thinner than I thought you'd have become." Flare said weakly. "But there is something about your eyes..."

She smiled to him lightly. "Hello again, dad."

Flare fell to his knees again, holding her hand. "I'm sorry." He whined. "It's all my fault you're like this... I promised to keep you safe and I... I'm so very sorry."

"Through scientific deducing, how many hormones were already coursing through her body, and some guesswork; the mechanics are capable of calculating exactly how her body would age and change. Because of this, she stands in almost exactly the same body she would have at her age." Hazard said. "Every few months she has to go back and have herself rechecked, slight alterations added and her height modified if she would have grown any."

Flare, still staring blankly into space, slowly got to his feet, stumbled slightly, and walked out with a blank look on his face. Just from his expression and the wordless way he moved, every action long and drawn out, Cibbie could tell that this was indeed the final blow his already weakened morale could take. Hazard had broken him; mind and soul. Blindly and recklessly Cibbie swung, her gun catching Hazard's face with a loud and painful crack. Hazard tumbled across the floor, the faces of all in the room following him with dumbfounded expressions of disbelief. He stood up with blood trickling out his mouth and nose, his muzzle had been smashed from her blow, and he gave a look of complete shock to Cibbie. She had grown a little, her muscles become more defined, and a mist of sorts rose from her figure. Through his blurred vision, he could almost see her eyes; their red colouring distorted from being tear filled, yet full of such malice and rage that even the students in the room backed off a little; despite their incredibly resilient frames they were frightened of Cibbie's change.

"Well... Shit." He managed to mumble.

Cibbie charged at Hazard, her gun swung into an arc that cracked the concrete in the floor when he dodged. She spun around, catching him again across the head, only this time with her tail. Hazard fell, and a blow that would have easily finished him was caught in mid swing by Jay, who pushed Hazard across the floor to Delta.

"Get him out of here and bring your father! I'll hold her off as long as I can!" Jay called, spinning around with Cibbie's gun in his hand, throwing her across the huge room.

She slid to a stop on the other side of the students, and barrelled through their heavy metallic bodies like they weren't even there. Jay caught her in mid swing before she could hit him and hurled her across the room once more.

"My students are to leave right now!" Jay yelled. "Do not get involved, I cannot be more serious about this!" His students ran out of the room as Jay ducked Cibbie's next swing and tripped her up. This didn't slow her down, and she flipped back onto her feet, flailing out at Jay with everything she had. Jay continued to parry and block, swinging her off her feet and across the room. King walked into the room right as Cibbie finally landed a blow, the force throwing Jay across the room and partially into the solid concrete wall opposite the door. He climbed out of the indent in the wall.

"King!" Jay yelled, hurling his card across the room to bury into the wall. "I can't fight Twelve off like this; she's fully Trumped!"

King walked back out and dragged Flare in by his arm.

"What do you want from me?!" Flare growled, unhappy that he had been disturbed from his miserable mood.

"Only the one she has Trumped for can stop her unless she kills her target. The only one who can stop her is you." King explained. "Ace is using up every combat sense he has right now and he won't last long, despite being mechanical. Now go over there and stop her!"

Flare sighed and ran over, grabbing Cibbie by her shoulders and shaking her. "Hey... Hey! Cibbie, snap out of it! I'm fine!" He cried into her face to no avail. She pushed him off her and charged Jay down, once again being harmlesly flung across the room. "It's no good!" Flare called to King. "She's not listening!"

King sighed. "Then send her a message she can't ignore!" He yelled back.

Flare raked his brain for a solution that would work. It had to be quick, or Jay would either run out of patience, or she would wear out. Once again Cibbie charged Jay down, this time firing her gun at him. He dodged the bolts of energy effortlessly and swung her across the room once more. Flare made up his mind, and caught Cibbie as she flew past him, spinning around to cope with the massive force needed to throw her, and kissed her. She stopped, going rigid for a moment before she practically melted in his arms, her hand moving up to his back and pulling him into a deeper kiss. Jay walked around them and stood next to King.

"You knew this was happening, didn't you?" He asked.

"Indeed." King replied.

"How is this possible?" Hazard called from behind them.

King turned to face him, his hand ready to hit him but stopped when he saw Hazard's face covered in bandages. "Broken jaw, eh?" He mused with a light grin. "Serves you right, I suppose. This is possible becuase... Well, look at them!"

Hazard, through a bandaged shut muzzled, growled.

King grinned innanely. "You are in deep trouble, Seven. I told you not to break him, and yet you just couldn't let it be."

Cibbie and Flare broke off of each other and stumbled to the door together, each nervously glancing to the other every so often.

"W-what...?" Cibbie stammered.

Jay held up a hand. "I shall explain." he said. "Each of the Dozen's cards is like a name tag, yet it is also a key to a hidden power that we each have. Each one tells who you are in the order. As Twelve, you are the Dozen of Kinship. The bonds you form with others are vital to your power, and if one of the people you treasure has their mind or spirit broken, is killed, or is seriously injured; your card ability, called a 'Trump' fully activates; sending you into a Juggernaut like rage. As you may have noticed, you became a great deal stronger, faster and resilient. It takes more than even Flare can dish out to smash part of Hazard's jaw like that. Out of all of our card abilities, only mine, Jack's and Queen's are equal in strength, but it would take both me and Queen together to stop you when Trumped. You must remember, however, that activating your Trump fully is extremely dangerous, as only the person for whom you went into your rage can break you from it unless you kill the person who has caused it, and if you are Trumped too long your body will react violently, and it can have dire consequences." Jay explained. "All of our Trumps are different, and we can activate them at will, accessing a small portion of the full power for the duration, however yours is the only one with such a price for prolonged use." Jay finished.

"...S-so Flare... K-kissed m-me because...?" Cibbie blundered, barely able to form coherent words.

"Yes. If he hadn't you might have died, we did not want to take that risk." King said. "Although I'm not too sure you didn't enjoy it, hm?"

Cibbie blushed brightly and turned her head away. "...I..." She mumbled quietly.

"C'mon." Flare said calmly. "Let's go back to the others. They will want to know what has happened." He tugged her arm to get her walking, and they were soon back in Pride's room. Cibbie had fidgeted nervously the whole way there, shying away from Flare's touch when he reached out to guide her around a corner she had passed.

Michael was still here, as were Pride and the Mochtroid girl, but Priss and Hashim were gone, so were Silence, Faith and Melissa. Michael and Pride were talking to the female passively when Cibbie and Flare wandered back in. She gave a friendly wave to them, and Flare returned the gesture before pulling Cibbie into the room. Michael's phone rang and he answered it, being strangely polite to whomever was on the line. Cibbie toned him out, listening was too much strain on her depleted energy reserves. She walked to a chair and slumped into it before a loud yelp from nearby her made her almost jump out of her skin. Venom had taken up residence in the next seat, and she was none too pleased to be disturbed from her rest. Cibbie slowly sat back down and tapped Venom on her head in a tired yet playful manner.

"You're not winning any points, kid." Cibbie mumbled as she scratched under Venom's chin with a claw. "Where's your master?" She asked the little green practically purring in her hand.

"I'm here." Melissa's voice called from the hall. She walked over to Cibbie and knelt down infront of her. "You can stop petting my Venom and start caring for your Amanda." She said, carefully putting Amanda into Cibbie's arms. Cibbie swooned as the little white bundle unraveled in her arms and looked up at her with sleepy eyes. Amanda's tail waved at the sight of Cibbie.

"Does she recognise me as her owner or anything of the sort?" Cibbie asked. "I don't want to take her from someone she has grown attatched to."

"Through special training and a mixture of psychological therapy, she knows you as her mother. She shall do whatever you ask her." Melissa informed her. "I trained her myself, what with me having a little extra free time lately, and I've found that she is incredibly playful for a drake, so remember to play with her and love her."

Cibbie hugged little Amanda with her one arm tightly. "Thankyou!" She said cheerfully, rubbing Amanda's ribs lightly. She gave a critical look at her left arm, sadly sighing. "If only I had two hands, I could take better care of her..." She mumbled.

Amanda, spooked by something, yelped and leapt out of Cibbie's lap. Cibbie looked about, unable to find anything that could have scared the little drake. Suddenly pain shot up her left arm and she froze, the pain making her curl her spine reflexively. She struggled to turn her eyes to her gun, which clicked loudly as it moved and contorted. Plates that were seamlessly together shifted, moving and repositioning as she watched. As her arm moved, she took note of things that would have been impossible to notice otherwise. A large, glowing cell sat in the very core, roughly the same size as the bone in her arm would be and about half as long; different cables running off it, all varying in size from as small as a pencil to as thick as her thumb protruding from one end of the core. But as soon as it had started, the movement stopped, all the panels clacking back together noisily. the gun had changed, reshapen into a perfectly proportioned hand and forearm. She finally remembered to breathe, her breaths sharp and fast as she tried to catch up with her change. She lifted her new hand, turning it and flexing the fingers. She watched panels on the inside of her arm actually move to simulate the movement muscles would make on a real arm.

"M... Michael!" She yelled.

Michael came jogging over. "What is it- woah." He said, stopping as he noticed her arm. "That's... not right."

"No kidding!" Cibbie said. "All I remember thinking was how much better life'd be with two arms and it changed just like that!"

"It's much more streamlined than your leg." Melissa noted. "Maybe your leg was not completed yet?"

Cibbie nodded. "If we could get something to cover this up seamlessly, I could almost pass as normal!" She said, cheerfully.

"You are already normal, Cibbie." Michael said firmly. "However, you could almost be passed as an ordinary citizen if we could cover your arm and leg up; I'll get the tailor and droidsmith right on it, she still has your measurements, and he makes the 'skin' material that Androids like Jay wear to look like living people, so she should be able to collaborate with him to easily make a sleeve for your arm and leg."

"Almost normal?" Melissa asked, tilting her head until Cibbie tapped the glowing panel on her chest.

"Cannot hide something like this in the baths." She said. She offered her arms to Amanda. "C'mere!" She called. The little white drake gave her a quizzical look before climbing into her lap, and contented herself by nuzzling Cibbie's stomach. Cibbie wearily stood up and motioned Flare over. "I'm heading home." She mumbled.

"Alright, I'll escort you there." He replied.

They said their goodbyes and walked to Michael's office. Flare knocked and Saharah let them in and teleported them back to the hotel. After a brief ride in the elevator, they went their seperate ways for the night. Terry was impressed to see Amanda with Cibbie, and prepared the basket they had bought for her, putting it next to Cibbie's bed.

"Thanks, Tez." Cibbie said to him.

"No problems miss." He replied. "I'll go plug myself in for the night. Have a good rest."

Cibbie nodded, pulling the bedsheets over herself. "You too."

Cibbie awoke the next day feeling refreshed. She sat up in bed and carefully slid out, making sure not to disturb Amanda as she walked to her closet, pulled on her bathing clothes, grabbed a towel and left. She stepped into the hall to meet Flare already there, sitting outside her door.

"Good morning, Flare." She chimed. "Is there any reason you might be seated outside my room?"

Flare, turned his eyes up to her. "Good morning, miss." He said apathetically. "I was headed towards the Onsen reserved for us this morning when I noticed two suspicious men hanging around outside your room. I shooed them away, and have been waiting here for you in case they came back."

"Thank you." Cibbie said to him, pulling him off the ground. "Now, let's go have our bath, shall we?" He nodded and she led him down the hall and into the elevator.

They arrived on the ground floor, stepped off the elevator and walked to their reserved onsen. Thankfully, people had gotten the hint from the other day that if one of the baths is reserved, people that it is not reserved for are not welcome, and would most probably get a knuckle to teeth conversation if they didn't stay out. Cibbie and Flare sat in the water and leant back to relax for a short while before cleaning themselves with soap they had brought. There was a sharp rapping at the door after ten minutes.

"Is this onsen reserved for a Miss Heritance?" asked a muffled voice.

"Who is it?" Cibbie called in response.

The door opened and Fortune stepped in, clicking it shut quietly behind her. "Me." She said, cautiously walking to the side of the pool. "Am I welcome? I-I thought we got off on the wrong paw yesterday and wanted to introduce myself properly."

Flare went to speak, but Cibbie hushed him. "Of course you are welcome. Come and sit."

"I-I do not have any bathing clothes." Fortune replied in a mumble.

"I'm sure you have nothing we have not seen before." Flare said to her. "But if it means that much to you I have a spare shirt and pair of board shorts in my stuff in the changeroom." Fortune nodded and headed off, returning shortly after and sitting in the water next to Cibbie. Cibbie grabbed her hand.

"Hello." She said, shaking the confused lamb's hand. "Cibbie Heritance."

"H-hello." Fortune replied. "Fortune Wingspan. I'm your classmate and I, in a way, am the daughter of Flare Wingspan; the man who is currently your bodyguard."

They sat in silence for a short while, Flare and Fortune avoiding one-another's gaze until Cibbie stood up.

"Alright, I'm headed back to my room. If you two want to come along to talk, feel free to join me." She said. She waded out of the water and into the changerooms, where she promptly dressed in her casual clothes before being joined by Flare and Fortune. She gave them time to change before taking them both to the elevator. The door opened and they got in, just as Silence and Faith were stepping off.

"Good morning you two." Cibbie greeted them.

"Good morning, Cibbie." Faith responded. "We just came from breakfast with Markas on the top floor, and I thought I heard some strange noises from your floor as we passed it on the way down, just so you know."

"Noises?" Flare asked.

"What sounded like two men breaking into a hotel room, but it could have been anything. We'll see you later." Faith said to them as the doors closed. Flare pushed the intercom button on the elevator keypad.

"Hello, security? This is Sybil Heritance's bodyguard in elevator two, I want an emergency override on all elevators that go to the seventh floor except this one." He said.

"Reasoning, sir?" the intercom spat.

"I believe there may be intruders in Miss Heritance's room, I do not want them to escape." He said, releasing the button.

The elevator rose to the seventh floor, and they quickly made their way to Cibbie's room. The door had been forced open, and a man stood just outside. He looked panicked. Flare grabbed him.

"I thought I got rid of you!" He growled.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?!" Cibbie demanded.

The man struggled in Flare's grip for a moment before replying. "I'm a photographer, and I came up here with a friend to take a few photos of you."

"What for?" Cibbie snapped.

"A professional photo camera magazine. I swear, I didn't know he was going to do this!" The man flustered.

Cibbie stepped into the room in a panic and looked about. She could hear a soft whining coming from her bedroom, and she followed it straight to Terry, hunched over Amanda's bleeding body. Flare had dragged the man in, and Fortune had followed. Fortune gasped at the white and red huddle on the carpet.

"What happened?!" Cibbie asked, kneeling down and looking Amanda in her eyes.

"Another man and this gentleman forced their way in. This man asked if he could wait here for Cibbie, but the other man pulled a knife out and stabbed Amanda in the ribs before fleeing back out the door. I have called the medics, and they shall be here momentarily. Your appointment with the guild's Drake handler is scheduled for ten minutes time, so this could not have been more inopportune." Terry said automatically.

"Where did he go?!" Flare demanded, shaking the man.

"He ran down the stairs! I swear, I didn't know what he was going to do until he had already done it!" The man pleaded. Cibbie ran to the window and leaned out.

"Is that him down there?" She barked. Flare dragged the man to the window and held him out it.

"Yes, that's him." He said with a terrified voice. Cibbie motioned to Fortune.

"Fortune, we're going down the quick and easy way. Pick me up and we can jump." She ordered. Fortune carefully lifted her, stepped back a bit and leapt out the window. The fall, while exhilirating, would have easily killed Cibbie if she had leapt alone, but Fortune's completley metal body could take extremely high jumps like this easily, and they landed on the pavement below with a crunch, the concrete smashing below them. Cibbie leapt out of Fortune's unresisting arms and charged the fleeing man, narrowly missing him when she swung her hand.

"Missed me, freak!" He spat.

"You stabbed my drake!" She roared. The man flicked a bloodied knife out of his pocket.

"And now I get the master!" He said, thrusting the blade. Cibbie, in her rage, almost didn't dodge it in time, the blade scratching her right arm as she moved. She went to retaliate, but had to narrowly dodge another swing, this time the blade sliced into her thigh. The pain made her stop, reflexively putting a hand to the cut. He took his chance and went to thrust again, but stopped when he was mauled to the ground by another, much larger white drake.

This drake was actually the right size and shape, large wings, huge scales that looked like protection, and the tail had a wicked looking spiked club on the end. Royal's horns that curled around the ears and little horns that showed the dragon's gender told Cibbie that this one was female. She looked quite angry, snarling right into the man's face with her claws digging into his skin. His hand that had been holding the knife, was bloodied and useless, riddled with holes that the drake's teeth had filled it with. A woman in casual clothes walked over and picked the knife up.

"Explain." She demanded. The man simply chuckled.

"Even with your pet drake on me I 'ain't going to tell you nothing!" He said.

"Then I will." Cibbie snapped. "This man was with his colleague, who simply wanted to talk with me about some things. He broke into my room on the seventh floor and promptly stabbed my week old drake, Amanda before fleeing." She growled. "If you hadn't shown up here now, either he would have killed me too, or I would have been forced to break something of his in a very painful way." The woman looked puzzled for a moment, as if remembering something important, and put her hands on her hips.

"You must be this Miss Heritance that the Guild organised us to meet." She said, putting a hand forth. "I'm Commander Sarah Ironfall of the Drake regalia. This is Snowball, my drake."

Cibbie shook her hand nervously. "I'm Cibbie Heritance, and yes; I am the person you were instructed to meet."

Sarah returned her gaze to the struggling man. "Breaking and entering is one thing, but stabbing a week old Drake?" Snowball growled louder. "I should have Snowball freeze you solid; instead, I'm going to let the police handle you." She clicked the knife closed and pocketed it. Fortune came running over.

"Hello, Miss. Ironfall." She said. "I can take it from here."

Cibbie didn't wait to see what happened next. She ran back into the building as fast as her legs could carry her and told the front desk that the elevators could be reactivated. She rushed into the first available one, rode to her floor and hurried to her apartment. Flare and Terry stood guard outside her bedroom door, through which she could hear mumbling and the occasional clink of metal on metal. She moved to enter, but Flare grabbed her shoulders.

"I need to be in there!" Cibbie demanded.

"You can't go in, you'll contaminate the room." Flare firmly stated. "Amanda will be fine, the Broodmistress herself came to operate." He told her. Cibbie felt something brush past her leg and she looked down to see Venom looking up at her quizzically. The little green drake gave a toothy grin before hissing playfully and pretending to bite Flare's foot.

Sarah Ironfall and Snowball came round the corner. "The Broodmistress is here?" She asked. "Excellent, I've been meaning to talk with her for some time; not that our conversation won't be held, mind." She held a hand up to Cibbie. "Don't worry too much, kid. Drakes are extremely durable; I'm sure that your little one will bounce back nicely."

Cibbie sniffled, nodded, and walked into the kitchen. She pulled open the refrigerator door and gave a long, pointless stare at the contents.

"Would you like something to drink Ms Ironfall?" She asked.

Sarah walked into the kitchen and looked into the fridge before pulling out a beer. "This'll do nicely, thanks." She said, and sat in a chair at the table. "I'm sure you had some questions you'd like to ask me, so let's get them out of the way."

Cibbie closed the fridge door and sat opposite Sarah. Their conversation started rockily, uneasy questions about the facilities that the Hunter's Guild provided for drake tamers, the size and shape of dorm rooms, how much customisation could be done to one, and how much exercise drakes required daily; but eventually evolved to the kind of orders that she might be given, breeding cycles, and what co-workers were like. Sarah didn't hold back, filling in each little detail she knew and even used Snowball as a reference model for several questions, much to Cibbie's embarrassment.

"How long do drakes live for? And how large do they grow? Is it known or...?" Cibbie finally asked.

Sarah scratched her chin in thought. "Well, it all depends on the handling and lifestyle of the drake. The estimated age they can live to is about fifty, and they don't get much larger than Snowball is. Snowball's roughly ten, so she's only a youngling herself." She said. "But drakes could die at younger ages from a whole manner of things; like injury, disease, abuse..." She mumbled before noticing Cibbie's face. "N-not that your little Amanda will die from this!" She stammered. "If Broodmistress Melissa herself is here to do the surgery, then there is no chance for her to die, trust me on this." Cibbie nodded lightly.

"The Broodmistress... Tell me about her." She quietly asked.

"The Broodmistress, Melissa Wingspan, is the direct blood younger sister of Flare Wingspan, and the adopted sister of Hazard Wrathgaze. She is the older sister to the Broodmother, Shan'any Wingspan, whose children she raises until they are old enough to be cared for by their owners. Head Broodmaiden of the Roost, she controls the distribution of young Drakes and is the head teacher of all schoolings of drake care, from handling, hatching, all the way to medicine, anatomy, and surgery. She was once married to another handler, Richard Wingspan, and almost fathered his child. The reasons for her miscarriage are unknown and confidential to her, and her husband tragically died attempting to rescue a group of drake eggs from a falling tower of pens. Only three of twenty eggs survived the accident; her Venom's egg, another that went on to be owned by a fellow Guild trainer, and your Amanda's. It came as a horrible blow to her as her personal drake of the time, a red by the name of Blaze, also died in the accident. She's a good judge of character, and is supposedly going to be giving the Guild's drakes a physical in the next day or so." Sarah said, her hands moving to simulate the accident. "She also is supposedly involved with a group called 'The Dozen', but no actual evidence has been brought to light." Snowball growled lightly and Sarah smiled. "Hello, sir." She said.

"Hello, Commander Ironfall." Michael replied. "I heard part of your conversation just now, and I'm pretty sure that I've told you not to go spreading your propaganda about the Dozen group."

"Give me a reason to." She replied. "Anything you do will easily tell me whether or not she's really in on it, so I've got myself a nice little niche. You're the only public member of them."

"And as the only public member I'm warning you to stop." He said. "Anyway, I came when I heard from Makas that there was a stabbing in your apartment. I see you are unharmed?"

Cibbie nodded. "Yes sir." She said. "But Amanda is..." She trailed off.

"I understand." Michael said. "Flare told me that his sister was performing the operation, so you have nothing to worry about." He wandered to the fridge and motioned to it. "Can I?"

"Sure, got ahead." Cibbie said, waving a hand.

"Thanks." He replied, pulling out his own beer and opening it with a crack.

"Should you be drinking, sir?" Sarah asked. "I mean, I have Snowball to guide me around and such, but..."

Michael gave her a stern look as he took a long drink. "One beer and she thinks I'm going to lose it! Honestly, you're worse than my mother!" He said sarcastically. "Look, missy, I can hold my own with alchohol, so don't go telling me I can't drink one beer!" He put the can on the table with a heavy thunk. "Besides, I'm not the one on duty here."

Cibbie chuckled. "He's got you there."

Sarah rolled her shoulders. "Sue me."

Melissa stepped into the kitchen, blood on her hands, and washed off into the sink. Cibbie stood up and pulled another beer out of the fridge, offering it to her.

"No, thanks." She said. "That stuff gives me heartburn, I'll just take an orange juice if you've got it. Amanda will be fine, we had a little accident when we were putting her onto the bench, cutting her leg, but we've sewn her closed and she will make a full recovery in a few days. Luckily the knife missed any major organs, but with the amount of blood lost she will not eat for a little while; when she does become hungry she will become ravenous so make sure you have plenty of food at your disposal."

Cibbie practically leapt on her, pulling the shocked dragon into a hug. "Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!" She cried.

"It was my pleasure." Melissa replied. "Just keep an eye on her for the next few days. She will be unable to walk until later this afternoon, so keep her company while she recuperates. We have put Sealing lotion on the stitching, but she will have a scar where the knife got her. Have your P.R.A. re-bandage her in the morning, and I'd suggest taking her to the baths downstairs to get the blood cleaned off her; she does know how to swim." Melissa finished.

Cibbie nodded and walked through the apartment, knelt down next to Amanda's sleeping body and started to stroke her scalp. She could hear Michael talking, but didn't put much thought to it, content to be with her little drake. Terry meandered into the room and climbed onto Cibbie's shoulder.

"I never actually got to play with her yet, either." Cibbie mumbled to him. "I should never have left her alone..." She arced her spine in pain, throwing her metal hand out as it changed, rapidly reshaping to the familiar gun it was before. Michael came rushing in just after it had finished.

"I heard it that time." He told her. "Good timing, too. I just got a call, an Archethal Polaris matching a familiar description has been spotted down the beach."

"What does that have to do with me?" Cibbie snapped.

"Cibbie, it's your brother!" He replied automatically. Her eyes widened and her ears drooped a little in shock before she shook her head.

"Broodmistress!" She yelled. "You're bringing Amanda!"

"Where to?" Melissa asked.

"We're going for a trip to the seaside." Cibbie replied, a growl in her voice.

They arrived at the beach in a flash, Cibbie in her bathing suit so as not to damage her good clothes in the sand. The beach was deserted except for one lone figure that stood just on the edge of the water. He had a gun much like Cibbie's own, only replacing the opposite arm. His vibrant red hair was roughly shoulder length, and he looked much like she did. Both of his legs were prothstetic, and they both looked more advanced than Cibbie's, verifying that her leg was incomplete. Tall, yellow and focused, his horns were pointed slightly differently, but still arced around to his face. The panel on his chest was a bottle green, and didn't glow in the slightest. He wore but a loincloth around his waist, and looked like he had been trudging through the ocean. The minute Cibbie stepped onto the sand, he turned around and raised his gun, a blast plowing into the dune behind her.

"He doesn't know who you are!" Michael told her. "And he is connected to the Hive; he is etremely dangerous! This can end in only two ways, you die or he does!"

Cibbie grinned and turned her face up to him, a light mist rising off her body. "No one shall be killed, and I do not need to fully Trump." She said.

"If you die, Cibbie..." Melissa said.

"If I die, Amanda is to be left to Flare." Cibbie said, facing her brother once more. "And Michael shall use Sparkplug to disintegrate my brother." She growled, a tear rolling down her face. "Here I come, brother!" She yelled, charging him down.

Her brother steeled himself, and the two guns clanged together loudly as he parried her swing. He didn't have much time to react, however, as Cibbie soon headbutted him to knock him back, and planted her gun into the sand, swinging her metallic leg up and smashing it clean across his face. Relentlessly she continued to club and cut at him, jumping one of his swings and clean over him, landing a kick into his back before it all started again.

"Can she win?" Terry asked nervously.

Michael watched intently, his hand over his gun. "I believe so." He replied. "She's only partly activated her Trump, but she's trying to fight him to submission, she doesn't realise that he cannot submit. No matter how much damage she does to him, the Hive will only let him stop when he has died." He said, before yelling: "Cibbie, you've got to destroy the crystal in his chest and plant the message device in him!"

She seemed to acknowledge this, and the little glass panel from her front whizzed into Michael's hand. She waited, carefully biding her time as her brother's blows swung by, narrowly missing her as she dodged and parried. Finally he left himself open, and she leapt over him; sweeping his feet from under him when she landed. With one blade extended, she shoved her gun to his chest, the blade sliding into the crystal on his chest with a soft silken noise. He looked stunned for a moment, and his chest followed the blade when she withdrew, all the debris and crystal pulling out. Quickly she pulled the little black device from her own chest and shoved it into his with a clack. The voice of her father played, only this time it was different. He would say 'son' instead of 'daughter', and told of how Cibbie had just saved her brother from a fate worse than death. The message ended and his eyes turned completley black before the colour returned and he put his hand to Cibbie's cheek.

"S...Sis?" He mumbled. She nodded to him, making him smile lightly before passing out. As he slumped, a playing card slipped from his tangled hair.

The Three of Diamonds.

Cibbie rose from her kneeling position, picked the card up and threw it as hard as she could at Michael. He dodged it narrowly, and it buried itself into the wooden railing of the walkway he stood on. He pulled it from the wood and idly looked at it before descending the stairs.

"Why didn't you tell me that an entire half of my family were of the Dozen!?" Cibbie bellowed.

"It was not important." Michael replied. She lashed out at him with her hand, but he caught her and pulled her to the ground. "Who the dozen are is not important, what the dozen are is not important, only our mission matters!" He said to her angrily.

"He's my brother and you never told me!" She angrily snapped. Michael's grip tightened.

"He's one of the deck!" Michael yelled back. "His name, his race, his age is unimportant compared to what he may know about our objective! He is Three, the Dozen of Despair!"

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?!" She yelled back.

"His entire life was known to King the minute that your brother took the card! The only bright spark in his otherwise bleak and pathetic existance was you, a sister who loved him unconditionally for his entire life before you were both taken by the Polaris! His unique despair at this has led him back here, to his blood! Back to you!" Michael yelled. "His card grants him the power to manipulate an element we call dark matter, it's a very potent material that is so cold that it's practically fire. When he became Polaris, his card must have taken a mild control over him and drawn him back to where he could get help; back to you!"

The King of Diamonds card plowed into the sand next to them, and Cibbie looked at it weakly.

"How do you always do that?" She asked King as he stepped down the boardwalk.

"Magic is a power that even you can manipulate, Twelve." He said to her. "Give me the card."

Michael faltered. "Why?"

"He does not need the old Despair card any longer, I have created a new pair for him. He needs to bleed on the twin card again though." King said, ever shuffling his deck. Michael handed him the card, and King slipped the deck into his pocket, holding the Two of Kings in his other hand. He placed the two together and tore them. Cibbie had expected something more dramatic, but the cards simply tore like any regular piece of paper. King shoved them into a pocket and pulled out another pair of cards.

Cibbie's brother shifted, opening his eyes to see the three of them standing around him.

"What's..? King..?" He mumbled, before sitting up and putting his hand on his head. "Gods I've got a headache. All I remember was being shoved onto the factory line for conversion and then blackness until my father's voice brought me back to my senses..."

"Look down at yourself, Three." Michael instructed.

Carefully opening an eye to see despite the blinding sun he looked over himself. His face turned to shock when he saw the prothstetic legs and arm, and finally the large hole in his chest. His horrified gaze flew up to Michael. "Eleven, what's happened to me?!"

"You and your sister are Polarii." Michael said flatly. Cibbie leaned in close to her brother and looked him in the eye.

"...Inheritance, is that you?" Her brother asked.

"Yeah, it's me." She said. "But I've few memories of my past before we became like this..." She sadly mumbled. "I do not remember your name."

"It's Brenton." He replied. "What kind of life do we lead now though? No people, no home..."

"Your sister has eked out a nice quiet life for herself with the help of some friends;" Michael informed him, "I am sure we can help you gain the same freedoms."

Terry hopped off of Michael's shoulder and onto Cibbie's own, holding her horn to stay put. "This is Terry." Cibbie told her brother. "He's a robotic companion that belongs to me."

"G'day!" Terry cheered.

Brenton nodded to the little furry noisemaker as Melissa walked over. This was someone he recognised.

"Broodmistress?" He hazarded. "Is that actually you?"

Melissa nodded and handed Cibbie Amanda. "Amanda's awake, she would be better off in your hands." She said. "We must go soon, the media will be here shortly, and this is not exactly the kind of publicity that the Guild needs right now."

"Then it is too late to worry about it." King said, turning to face the sea. "Angela Red is hiding under the boardwalk."

Michael sighed. "Cibbie, can you go get her please? Be subtle." He said to her. She nodded, held her breath in pain as her gun changed shape with a loud series of clicks, and slowly walked onto the boardwalk, standing next to Flare.

"S'cuse me." She said, punching her metal hand through the wood and pulling the struggling canine out. Michael came running up the steps and stood infront of the bemused reporter.

"Angela Red;" He began with a smile, "allow me to introduce you to Sybil Heritance. Cibbie, this is Angela Red, world's most annoying reporter."

"Good morning, Miss Red." Cibbie growled. "Tell me, what happens to people who spy on royalty on the beach?"

"Usually they get big fat pay rises for the juicy news." Angela said smugly. "Tell me, what is this Dozen group?"

"Tell me," Cibbie retorted, "why I shouldn't just gut you here and now and save us all the trouble of dealing with you later?"

"Your diplomatic immunity won't protect you from killing a civillian in front of an official." Red said. "Stop bluffing." Flare stepped out from behind Cibbie.

"What makes you think that I would find diplomatic immunity a problem?" He snarled. "It's interesting, actually; that the monster of the Mutenagenix war would have a direct line to his elder brother, the head of the Underground, but there you have it." He said, waving a cellphone infront of her face.

"You wouldn't dare." She snorted.

"He already did." Hazard's voice boomed. "Angela Red! I have warned you many times not to tap confidential lines or the like, but time and again you don't listen! What must I do to make you stop?!"

"Kill her, probably." Michael quipped sarcastically.

"I have a suggestion." Cibbie started. "Why don't we remove her from her position in reporting and confiscate all of her recording and wiretapping equipment?"

"You don't have that much power!" Angela snapped, poking Cibbie. With her hand pusing a finger into Cibbie's stomach, little Amanda snapped at her, her sharp teeth ripping holes in the unsuspecting canine's hand. Angela pulled back with a loud yelp.

"You have that affect on people, don't you?" Melissa quipped. "I still remember that time you broke into the Broodmother's den. I don't know what you said to her, but you're damned lucky I could stop Shan'any from crushing you into the pavement, or you'd have become a puppy pancake."

"You did what?!" Hazard bellowed. "What is wrong with you?! Losing your job is nothing compared to what should befall you!" Angela winced as Hazard dropped his rage on her like a falling piano. "The Drakes are one of the few exports keeping the Underground afloat, and you go in to snoop! Do you have any idea how much damage you could have done?!"

"I, and my viewers, wanted to know where forty five percent of your salary goes each month." Angela said. "I don't think it's unreasonable to wonder why the money is being spent on a bunch of drakes!"

Hazard put his hand on her shoulder and lowered his face to hers. "Shan'any is my sister, Angela. That money goes towards keeping her children fed and their pens well maintained. I don't know if you noticed while you were there, but the place is devoid of any kind of luxury, as is the Phoenix Hatchery, the Breeding Penns, and even our hospitals! We're as close to going into debt as we can get, and you're flaunting around acting like you're god's gift to the world! Don't make me laugh! Our Faction may only be blooming, but it's going to take a very long time for us to get back the amount of wealth that we had before the Mutenagenix. I should have you know that I spent money out of my own pocket to start the Hunter's Guild, and if there is one thing I do not want you to destroy it is that. Give me the recording devices you have with you and never let me see you do this sort of shit again."

Angela sighed defeat and pulled black recorders and camreas from almost every vantage point she had on her, eventually climbing back under the boardwalk and handing up a whole stack of mechanical items she had for spying. She, eventually, walked out of view with her tail between her legs.

"Damned woman." Michael mumbled.

Cibbie shook the encounter off and returned to her brother's side, still cradling little Amanda in her natural arm. Amanda seemed strangely pleased with herself, licking the blood that she had gotten from Angela's hand off of her teeth with a sense of satisfaction that even Cibbie could feel emenating off her.

"Cunning little devil." Melissa said happily, scratching Amanda's chin.

King handed Brenton the card with three crowns on it. "Bleed on it." He instructed. "And you shall recieve your renewed card."

Brenton sighed, cut his hand on his gun and wiped the card over the cut leaving a smear of red down the middle. the symbols shone brightly and King took the card back, exchanging it with a Three of Diamons.

"Your trump has changed with this card." King announced. "You're still the Dozen of Despair, and your power over dark matter remains the same, but your Trump is now like that of Twelve's."

"Speaking of, who has replaced my late father as the new Twelve?" Brenton asked. Cibbie slid the card from her own hair and put it onto his lap.

"I have." She promptly informed him. It was now that her brother really actually got a good look at his sister.

"Holy crap, Cibbie, you've grown up well. You were still... Undeveloped when I last actually paid any attention to you physically." He admitted.

"That's either the worst compliment ever or the biggest eye opening in months." Michael joked. Cibbie tugged his shirt and looked at him in a pleading manner. "Oh, alright, I'm sure that you wouldn't mind a second armoured jumpsuit anyway. Just file it directly to my spending budget, alright?" He said, handing her a pair of cards from his wallet with signatures on them.

"C'mon, I'll take you to a couple of places I know that you really should visit right about now." Cibbie said, smiling brightly to her brother and picking him up. "First off I believe should be the tailor, so we'll go there." Her voice trailed off cheerfully as she went back to petting little Amanda in her arms.

Cibbie, Flare and Brenton walked into the shopping mall idly chatting to eachother and looking at things in shop windows, their footfalls echoing through the strangely quiet shopping center. Mrs. Snippit's shop was only near the entrance, but when they noticed the security bearing down on them, it suddenly seemed like it was lightyears away. Customers ran and hid in the various little shops, dropping things in their panic and leaving their trolleys behind, or simply frantically running as fast as their legs could take them. As security pulled their pistols, Cibbie finally broke the silence.

"Aww, crap; where's Maxine when you need her?"

She pushed Amanda into Flare's open arms and shoving him aside, tripping Brenton to the ground as she dove to avoid the oncoming hail of bullets. She felt them bounce off her leg, and even heard them thud into the tiles of the floor as she quickly recovered what little nerves she had left and pulled her brother along with her, tugging him into a run for the doors. They got within inches before the solid steel shutters slammed closed, trapping them in.

"Brenton, how nimble are you?" She asked hurriedly.

"I'm not sure, but I should be pretty nimble with these legs!" He shouted over the din of bullets bouncing off the metal shutters.

"Good enough!" Cibbie yelled. "Run!"

They turned and ran in different directions, both of them skipping along the walls lightly before rolling along the ground when gravity took its toll and breaking into another run. They crossed paths in the middle of the room as they made a beeline towards the tailors.

"If you have to fight, don't kill anyone!" Cibbie yelled to her brother as they passed eachother. She lost track of him for a moment, searching for Flare in the chaos, but she couldn't find him. There was only the large group of security, Amanda lying in a heap on the floor and...

She slid to a stop. Flare's body lay next to Amanda's, blood seeping from a bullet wound in what looked like his chest. The security stopped aiming at the overly nimble Brenton and took aim only for her, but by now it was too late. Bullets bounced off her body as if she herself was made of pure steel, her muscles pulsed and she grew a little. Tears welled up in her eyes. Brenton made it into the tailors in time to see Cibbie throw a security officer through a shop window.

"Aww, god dammit." He growled to himself. "She's Trumped, Flare must've got hit."

Michael Starfury, the Earth Sphere's youngest head of power, walked into the hall past Brenton. The security, or at least what was left of it, ran for their lives as Cibbie dove at them, but stopped dead when Flare grabbed her by the leg and pulled her down. She struggled against him, but when he clawed his way up to her and pulled her into a hug she stopped. The mist faded from around her and her eyes finally dropped their held tears.

"I'm alright, Cibbie!" Flare yelled.

"F...Flare?" She murmured.

Michael walked over to them and knelt down, pulling them off the ground. "Not only is it indignant to hug him that tightly on a cold tile floor whilst only in a bikini;" he said, "but it's also counter productive. You ran off without a Guild escort you idiot."

Cibbie looked around the now destroyed area. "I didn't hurt anyone too much did I?"

"They will live." Michael said. "But Amanda won't if you don't get her off these ice-cold tiles."

Cibbie snapped to her senses and quickly lifted the now unconscious drake off the floor.

"Flare, are you alright?" Michael asked.

"I am fine sir." He replied. "It's a flesh wound, honest. One of the guards called me a 'damn disgusting sympathiser' and promptly tried to shoot me. It was all I could do to avoid him hitting Amanda."

"We have business to attend to, are you sure you will be alright Flare? I'm sure Michael could get a medic here to check it whilst our clothes are being sewn?" Cibbie asked.

"I am fine, miss." He replied, blushing slightly as he pulled her away from his bleeding shoulder. "Let us continue with what we came here to do."

They walked back to the store, Brenton was already on the pedastal having his measurements taken. He looked humiliated as his inside pants length was taken, but tried his best to stand still. Eventually it was Cibbie's turn to take the pedastal one more time.

"Why do I need to go back up there?" Cibbie defiantly asked. "Didn't you already have my measurements?"

"Yes, but I need to take far more accurate measurements for your leg and arm, so get on the damned pedastal." Snippit retorted, pulling Cibbie across the room.

Brenton sat next to Flare, who had Amanda sleeping peacefully in his arms.

"She was really persistant to get me up there." Brenton said to him.

"I know." Flare mumbled back. "She's a very righteous woman in her own store."

They sat in silence for a short period, each too nervous around the other to say anything. Flare busied himself cleaning Amanda's scales and Brenton was picking bits of sand out of his legs when he finally tried to break the silence.

"So, you like my sister?"

Flare, completley thrown off balance by this, almost threw Amanda into the air when he jumped at the sudden bluntness.

"Wh-wha?! What makes you say that?!"

"Well;" Brenton started, "your attitude around her is much more cheerful, and that hug was sorta more than a dead giveaway."

Flare, still idly cleaning Amanda's scales, sighed. "She's a great friend." He mumbled. "But I doubt it could go much further than that. The only times we've been close have been to pull her from being Trumped. A relationship can't blossom out of that..."

"I dunno." Brenton replied, stretching his arms behind him. "I'm sure something'll come of it, even if it's only a crush. Frankly it doesn't matter to me who she eventually ends up with, as long as she's happy with her decision." He said.

Flare nodded lightly and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wiped Amanda with it, her scales gleaming healthily where the fabric cleaned. After he was content with how clean she was, he put the cloth to his face.

"What're you doing?" Brenton asked. Flare simply smiled and exhaled a flame onto the cloth before shoving it onto the bullet wound in his shoulder. The wound hissed.

"Ngh! I hate doing that!" He growled through gritted teeth. "There is no bullet in the wound, and it'll heal quickly, but if I don't seal the damage I'll lose a lot of blood."

"Won't cauterization seal your wound shut as a scar and stop all healing though?"

"Nah, I've got an increased healing metabolism. Most Undergrounders do. Scars are hard to get when most wounds heal too quickly to form them." Flare replied as he extinguished the burning cloth. "Physical scars, anyway." He added.

Michael, obviously listening in on their conversation, sat down next to Brenton with his arms crossed. "Psychological injuries scar instantly." He said to them. "Your clothes should be ready shortly."

"Whose is she, anyway?" Brenton asked, motioning to Amanda.

"She belongs to your sister." Flare answered. "She's... Not exactly a prime example of a drake. Her wings are too small, and her front feet are wrong. But she is very hardy." He stroked Amanda's back. "Though your sister has little knowledge on how to raise drakes, I'm more than willing to help her raise one of my nieces."

Brenton looked confused. "Uh... What? Niece?"

"The Broodmother and head Broodmistress of the den are my sisters by blood; our genetic makeup is roughly identical, and my own blood was used in their conceptions; so they're my clones and my sisters even though they are both vastly different from me, as such, any children they have are my nieces and nephews."

Cibbie came skipping back over happily and took Amanda from Flare's unresisting hands.

"Everything will be ready in roughly two hours." She said. "So we'll go around to Cut'n Run and come back when we're done there."

"Alright." Michael chipped in. "We'll go there. You two ready?"

Flare and Brenton nodded and stood up, following Michael and Cibbie out the front door again.

Eventually the group walked into Cut'n Run; the small hair salon was rather empty, no customers at any of the chairs.

"I guess the security must've warned everyone that we were here and told them all to evacuate." Cibbie said sadly.

"But of course I knew that they meant you, young miss, and so I stayed." Palware's voice called. He walked into view and eyed Brenton critically. "Mayhaps you come with a challenge?"

Cibbie nodded. "Hello again, Mr. Palware." She said. "I've brought my brother here to get his hair done, it's almost as bad as mine was when I first came here."

"Of course, of course." Palware replied. "I've recently discovered a new men's style, and I've been waiting for one with hair long enough to try it on. Come sit in a chair, boy."

Brenton sat down in one of the empty chairs and soon his hair was full of foam whilst Palware grumbled under his breath as per usual. He was a nice enough man, but a blunt attitude when dealing with his work was one of his little quirks that often got him a bad review despite being possibly the best hairdresser on the Curse stations. Eventually he put a towel around Brenton's head, sparing his muzzle, and walked into the back room once more. Soon he came back, grumbling about the complexity of the style, and opened the back door to the store to let in one of his employees. She promptly squealed in fright and hid behind the wall, and Palware pulled the frightened brown Canid back into the room.

"Look, kid." He said. "If they wanted to hurt us I'd be dead already; now get over there and put that girls' hair back in a neat plait." He motioned to Cibbie, whose hair had gone through rough treatment the last few days, especially at the beach. "Wash it first, watch her cuts, and show her how to do it so she can do it herself in future."

Cibbie nervously stepped up to the newcomer, who cowered like she were covered in sharp barbs. "Hello, miss." She said, whirling her hair around and untying the purple ribbon on the end. The hair tie underneath had snapped, and it fell away letting her long red hair flow freely as it unwound itself and draped down her back like a cloak. Michael choked for a moment, but it was inaudible to all but Flare.

"Something wrong, sir?" He asked quietly. Michael shook his head sadly.

"She... reminds me of her mother is all." He replied slowly and quietly. "They look very much alike."

They watched in silence for a short while before a familiar voice jolted them from their thoughts.

"Hello, guys. Waiting your turn or just waiting?"

Flare jolted, turning in a flash to see who had spoken before calming down. "Oh, it's only you. Don't scare me like that Delta."

"Sorry, it's the only way I know how to scare someone." She said, before leaning down and holding her card out. "The rest of the Dozen want to talk with Three." She whispered carefully. "He may know things that could potentially help us in the long run. You are to take him to the reserved onsen at the hotel, a room has been booked for him."

"Who're you to-" Michael began, before realising just who he was talking to. "Ah, right. Sorry." He blurbed. "Yes, Queen."

"Cibbie won't like being away from him." Flare said.

"Or you." Michael added slyly. "But if it is something that has been asked for by the majority of the Dozen, we shall comply."

"Good boy." Queen said, putting her card away and walking back out.

"I swear that woman knows just what buttons to push." Michael mumbled. Flare nodded his agreement.

"The only way we're going to get Cibbie away from both me and her brother is if my sister takes her to the Den again."

"Well then, we'll organise that." Michael said, rifling through his pockets.

Flare, not prone to quick political thought, didn't grasp this well. "You know my sister'd never allow such a rushed visit." He said.

"It's not going to be a visit." Michael said. "She's going to volunteer her time for a short while. Melissa can give Cibbie whatever she thinks is suitable for her."

Flare growled. "Heavy lifting."

"Heavy lifting." Michael said in tune with Flare. He pulled out his phone and hit one of the speed dial buttons. "Broodmistess? It's me, Michael. I've got a request..." He trailed off as Brenton walked back over. Palware had done well, now his hair curled around from behind to frame his face, and he featured the same sort of bangs that Cibbie did at the front. His vibrant blue eyes gave Flare a worried look.

"Well? He asked.

"You're asking the opinion of a guy who has no hair?" Flare asked sarcastically.

"Good point."

Brenton sat down and waited for Cibbie to finish. She walked back over, cheerfully waved goodbye to the girl and Mr. Palware, and lifted Flare from his seat.

"Alright, it should be about time for us to go get our clothes." Cibbie said. Michael clapped his cellphone shut and looked at Brenton's new hairstyle. He tilted his head curiously for a moment.

"Fair enough." He said, standing up. "Alright, I just got off the phone with the Tailors, they're ready to give you your new clothes." He lied. "Let's go."

Idly they walked back to the tailors, where they got their clothes and promptly changed into them before Melissa showed up with Venom in tow. She eyed their matching outfits critically.

"These two would confuse the hell out of the boys on the front lines." She said, laughing at her own joke. It was true enough, their outfits were almost identical. Comfortable shirts under loose Ironwool jackets and Ironwool pants. They had aquired 'skin' gloves for their legs and hands, and after Cibbie instructed Brenton in how to change his arm, they slipped them on.

"Now, the gloves are unique." Snippit said. "We recently got in contact with some nanotech scientists and they programmed nanobots that will activate when you change your arm. The nanobots remember the exact shape, composition and makeup of the gloves and sleeves of your arm, and dismantle it all down to conceal it within the hollow portions of your weapon until you change back."

"Clever." Cibbie breathed, demonstrating the effectiveness of the nanobots.

"Thankyou." Snippit replied. "Now, for payment..?"

Cibbie changed her arm back and walked over to the desk. She paid for the clothes and returned to Flare, who handed her little Amanda.

"I'm going to be taking you back to the Den today." Melissa said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "While we're there you'll have two jobs; Keep my sister entertained for a short while and socialise Venom with your Amanda." She jostled the green ball in her arms playfully. "I advise caution, she's been biting people lately." Venom's small green face looked up at Melissa's with an indignant 'have not' look.

"Why do you need me to entertain your sister?" Cibbie asked.

"She's been bored lately, and I figured a firendly face would get her out of her slump."

"Alright then." Cibbie said, shrugging.

"I'll not be going with you." Flare said. "After the other day, Shan'any would probably not be too pleased to see me."

"Can I come?" Brenton asked.

"Not this time, kid." Michael said, grabbing his hand. "I have some old items of yours that would be best in your hands, and I'm not going to bring them out into the public eye."

Cibbie waved goodbye to her brother. "I'll see you later." She said, walking out with Melissa.

Brenton watched Cibbie walk out of sight and waited until Mrs. Snippit had walked out of earshot before his disposition changed and he turned to the other males. "What does the Dozen ask of me?" He growled.

Michael chuckled, put a hand to his shoulder and they vanished in a flash of light.