(Reverence 4, 59 / 12:02PM)

  Somewhere not on the outskirts of Culkia.

  Far in the north where the sand was replaced with red dirt, the large town of Dodgerock vibrantly bustled in the sunny afternoon. Automobiles, pedestrians, and a couple of horses, all traversed the sidewalks and busy streets of the dry-end town.

  But much farther up north, laid a large adobe, an adobe that was two stories high constructed with white brick.

  The sun’s deadly rays blasted itself onto the large house, and the chirpings of black beetles and fire ants sang in the blistering heat. Inside the large house, however…

  (Fred’s thoughts) Ooh, nice air…

  Sitting down on the large white leather couch, Fred slouched his back while basking in the cool air. His face dripping with sweat, it stained all the way down to his chest and stomach, his hair already puffing out into a little afro.

  Next to him, three others lay out on the hardwood, letting the cold yet dirty floor nestle the backs of their neck and heads.

  Opening their mouths, their lungs pounded endlessly along their rib cages, pumping out more air than they could take in. Spreading out their arms and legs wide, the three of them looked toward the wooden ceiling.

  (Gary) Remind me … pants … to never work under the desert heat ever again…

  (Diego) You and me both … pants.

  (Stan) Shut it, we just … pants … have to get used to his weather…

  Someone blocked his line of sight.

  Hovering over him, a middle-aged woman with dark purple hair set both of her hands on her hips. Her eyes were cold as the Kepputhan glaciers from up north, and her lips churned downward to form a deep frown, causing Stan to slow down his breathing.

  As more sweat began to culminate on his face.

  (Iris) This is unsightly. Get up.

  (Stan) Ok, ma’am…

  Pushing both of his wobbly feet and legs up, Stan used most of his arm strength to help him get off the ground. Letting his hands droop down to his sides, his eyes pushed down as he stared right into Iris.

  Thirty-six hours prior, she was on the verge of life or death. Since most of her wound was healed none other by Hope, she still wrapped a white bandaged cloth all around her abdomen region. Despite not a single spurt of blood staining the white cloth, she hovered over the closed wound with her right hand, her fingernails trailing the bandage.

  Seeing the old wound, Stan rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, scratching at old skin that peeled off from his stained sweat.

  (Iris) It is also unsightly for a man to stare at a woman’s body, no?

  (Stan) I’m just glancing at your wound.

  (Iris) Petty matters like that don't concern you. It was me that got hurt, not you.

  (Stan) True ….

  Stan let his eyes trail down to the wooden floor, as both of his feet were spread apart from one another. Both of his hands quietly twitched, his eyes pinned onto an open crack along the wooden floor, a crack that wasn’t there before their arrival as guests.

  Puckering up his lips, his breathing slowed evermore.

  (Stan’s thoughts) Just what happened at that ranch? I hope everything worked out in the end.

  (Gary and Diego) Ow!

  Both men yelped together, their bodies hunched forward at the sign of pain along their sides. Rubbing their waists, they looked up and noticed Iris pulling back her right foot, as the speed of her kick was fast enough for both of them to register pain at the same time.

  Their faces turned red, they both had different emotions dwelling inside of them.

  (Gary) What did you do that for?!

  (Iris) I told you to get up.

  (Gary) Fine!

  Letting out a dry cough, Gary used the couch that Fred slouched on to help get himself up. Using all of his upper body to do the heavy work, his body trembled the more he pushed up until he finally let his feet remain flat on the ground.

  As for Diego, he kept his butt on the ground, staring up at Iris with red cheeks. Folding her arms, she tilted her head back while scrunching up her eyes.

  (Iris) Get up, now.

  (Diego) … please make me.

  (Stan and Diego’s thoughts) What the hell man…

  Rolling her eyes, Iris bent down toward where Diego was, placing both of her hands on his shoulders. His mouth slightly open, he let his body be dragged upward by just Iris’s upper body strength alone.

  Standing with both of his feet slightly dragging on the floor, a warm smile glistened Diego’s face. Pulling him close, she let the tanned man close to her body, letting his head be near the distance of her shoulder.

  (Diego’s thoughts) I’m … I’m in—

  She then threw him onto the couch.

  (Fred) W—

  Unfortunately for Fred, Diego landed chest first onto his stomach, whipping out all the air that was stored deep into his lungs. Widening his eyes, clenching his body, his red-strained eyes looked down onto the man who burrowed his face deep into the leather couch.

  Slowly lifting his head, Diego’s glasses remained undamaged, as he tilted his head to the right. Noticing Fred’s darkened face, his nostrils steamed out unwanted air from his lungs, causing him to nonchalantly push down his eyes.

  (Diego) You ruined it, man.

  (Fred) Get off me!

  Since he rested both of his hands beneath Diego’s body, he pressed them onto his legs as well as his chest. His lean muscles bulging out of his small biceps, he tipped over Diego with just the palm of his hands, making him plop onto the wooden floor beneath their feet.

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  The air being sucked out of him, Diego’s throat let out a low monotone groan, his chin turning purple from it hitting the floor.

  Both of his palms lay flat on the ground yet again, Fred’s hands soon began to clench tightly. Not letting a single drop of sweat press out from his palms, a little vein emerged from his right temple, while closing his eyes shut.

  (Fred) Can you please just let me rest…

  (Diego) Hey, I got more hurt here!

  (Fred) You’re acting like Gary.

  (Diego) So what if I’m acting like Gary?

  (Stan) Can you guys keep it down? Me and Gary are talking with the lady.

  Pushing the camera onto Stan and Gary, they both stood side by side as they spoke to Iris.

  Stan had his arms crossed over his chest while firming his hands inside of his armpits as he overshadowed the middle-aged woman. As for Gary, he had his hands inside of his pockets, only his thumbs sticking out in front of his thighs.

  (Stan) About last night, you told me that you’d tell me everything after we all did our chores. What happened?

  (Jumbo) It was a real fun house, that’s for sure.

  Entering inside the living room, a bunny-human walked while carrying a mug with both hands. His boots squeaking the floor, it croaked as he stood in front of both Iris and Stan, the wood creaking a last squeal.

  Bringing the mug to his lips, he gulped down half of the watery black liquid situated in the cup, circulating it inside of his mouth like a washing machine. Pulling the mug back out from his lips, both Iris and Stan’s noses wrinkled from the smell of bitter coffee grounds and cocoa.

  (Jumbo) As for your friends, they most likely escaped the ranch. But like I said, it was a shitshow for both parties involved.

  (Stan) Were there any injuries on our side in particular?

  (Jumbo) Hmm, let's see here…

  Holding the mug of coffee with his right hand, he didn’t use his fingers to wrap around the handle. Instead, he used the bottom of the mug, causing Gary to hiss out with his moist lips the more he looked at Jumbo’s hand.

  Using his left hand, he placed it on Stan’s shoulder, making a deadpan face as he stared straight at him.

  Nudging his head to the left, his eyes glanced at the white bandaged wound on Iris’s stomach. Pushing down his eyes, Stan let out an excess case of air from out of his nostrils, his upper lips blazing against the CO2 air.

  (Jumbo) I wonder what that bandage is?

  (Stan) I know she’s injured! I meant the question for my friends! Mine! Luke and his group! The Dark Angels!

  (Jumbo) Ok ok, from what I can recall, everyone was good. Except for that one dark-complected man and blonde-haired woman.

  Nodding up and down slowly, Stan put his hand over his mouth, breathing in and out through his sweaty palm. Warming up his hand with his mouth, his eyes wavered to a nearby window, seeing the bright rays starting to be blocked by a singular cloud.

  A cloud that darkened the room tenfold.

  Being next to him, Gary patted Stan’s back two times, keeping his eyes downcast on the floor while having his other hand scrunch up in his pocket. Twitching his right foot repeatedly, his throat quivered as he tilted his head up.

  (Gary) Do you guys know where they are at? Any clues or sayings where they might be?

  (Jumbo) They didn’t tell us anything, other than go back to the adobe. Sean had something in his hand, like a paper, so I guess they found what they were looking for.

  (Stan’s thoughts) Then why haven’t they come back…?

  A single knock was heard.

  Turning their heads to the front door, four of them including both Fred and Diego all stared at the door handle that didn’t turn. Waiting for any response, a voice, or even another knock, all of their feet remained glued to the ground while quenching their breath.

  Breaking the air, Fred pushed himself up from the couch, slowly trailing the wood with his black sneakers. Having both of his hands at his sides, his breath grew silent like a desert night breeze, the soles of his feet softly caressing the old wood below.

  Reaching the front door, Fred began to raise his right hand, watching the door handle for any movement or buckle. Hovering over it, he gulped down a single load of saliva down to his parched throat, his lips growing ever dry the more his sweat seeped down. After god knows how long, he gripped the handle, feeling its golden rough metal that began to humidify from his exhausted state.

  And at long last, he opened the door.

  And in front of him, was a face that he was too familiar with. A face that had its left eye covered by a bang shaded in blonde.

  (Fred) B-B-Br—

  (Agent Briggs) Greetings.

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  (Reverence 4, 59 / 12:06PM)

  Only a man dressed in all black stood in front of Fred.

  Wearing his typical tuxedo suit, black fedora, black slants, and church shoes, the man had his hands inside of his suit as he stared into Fred’s quivering eyes. His frown grew evermore, Fred took a step back, his face shaded in a deathly pale that caused Stan and everyone else to walk to the front door.

  Standing behind Fred, the five of them all hover their hands over their hips, keeping their eyes on the below-average-height man who was shorter than even Iris.

  (Iris) It’s a common courtesy to introduce yourself. Who are you?

  (Agent Briggs) Agent of the FUC, Federal United Corps, we have a warrant for a search and desist.

  Pulling up the right side of his suit, his right hip displayed a small revolver laced with golden metal. Like the flick of a switch, all of them including Fred and Diego withdrew their weapons, wielding them with their primary hands as well as keeping their barrels pointed down.

  Exhaling out a large amount of dry air from his lungs, he lowered his head, letting the tip of his fedora block his face. Moving his jaw left and right, doing it multiple times before he tapped his right foot.

  (Agent Briggs) With one finger on those triggers, then we will have no choice but to consider it self-defense on our part.

  (Iris) Explain your reason for your warrant.

  (Agent Briggs) Is Fenix here?

  Iris placed her hand onto Fred’s shoulder, leading herself to be in front of the group. Being the same height, Iris couldn’t look into his cold desolate eyes, while keeping her left hand on the handle of her wooden rolling pin.

  Lifting his head at a snail’s pace, his right eye was drenched downward, his eyelids darkening in a milky black.

  Seeing this, Iris moved her left foot back, while keeping her body motionless to the ground. As a tiny, single drop of sweat began to form along her forehead, the handle to her weapon started to creak under her grip.

  (Iris) Who’s Fenix?

  (Agent Briggs) We know you and The Dark Angels are in alliance with one another, so try not to lie. Also…

  Briggs glanced at the creaking rolling pin, her fingers digging into the wood like she was trying to stab it with her nails. Lifting his eyes, he jabbed them into the deepest pits of Iris’s soul, causing her to move her right foot back to put her in the same distance as Fred.

  (Agent Briggs) We’re finding a way to make them go to us.

  Using his right hand, he pulled out his golden-laced revolver.

  As soon as he held the grip of his gun, the rest of the men and one woman all aimed down their guns or weapons straight at Briggs. Their fingers were on the sides of their guns, they gulped down whatever saliva was situated inside of their mouths.

  Exhaling out another batch of air, he lowered his head.

  (Agent Briggs) This is not a path you guys want to go.

  Two agents came running behind Briggs.

  Glancing from behind by using his peripheral vision, he took note of the tall, silver-haired man along with a short woman wearing glasses. Both of them wearing their all-black tuxedos and fedoras, their breaths mingled with the dry desert air that sunk deep into their lungs.

  (Agent Eren) Briggs!

  Reaching in back of him, both Eren and Ada pant heavily, their faces tilted upward as they pinned their eyes at the unbothered agent. Noticing that Briggs didn’t pay any mind to turn around, Eren placed his hand on Brigg’s shoulder, nudging it back and forth with a quivering face.

  (Agent Eren) We got reports coming in! Luke and his group are planning to raid the Zirardge Train!

  Briggs turned his body 90 degrees, keeping his right side pointing to the defenseful men while his left side pointing to his fellow agents. Nodding up and down, not even a smile or smirk broke out from him, as his lips couldn’t churn nor push up along with his cheeks.

  Instead, Briggs put his gun back inside his holster, his eyes staring down at the long trail of fire ants crawling along the wall of the adobe.

  (Agent Briggs’s thoughts) So they’re planning on raiding it…

  (Agent Eren) Should we travel to Ridgemente?

  (Agent Briggs) In a bit, but first…

  Briggs turned his body to face the group of gun-wielding men in front of him, all of them still having their barrels directly pointed at the agent.

  Raising up both of his fists, he began to crack them one by one, letting the excess stress leap out of his bones. His frown deepened evermore, both corners of his lips began to deep down into his jawline.

  (Agent Briggs) We still have to recover those four extras.

  Stan, Gary, Fred, and Diego all began to walk backward, their sneakers creaking the old wood as their breaths and hearts fastened. Their eyes widened, the blood flow slowing down inside of their legs and feet, it was as if their toes were being stabbed by needles.

  But stepping in front of them, both Iris and Jumbo towered over Briggs.

  Scoffing, Iris pointed her rolling spin straight at Briggs, with a switchblade sparking up as it hovered right near his nose. While Jumbo wielded a Thompson with only one hand, he used his other to separate the four men and the agents in front of the door.

  (Jumbo) Iris. Your orders?

  (Iris) Get those men out of here. And tell the others that we have a brawl on our hands.

  (Jumbo) Noted.

  Jumbo and Stan’s group sprinted into the adobe’s hallways, watching them take off with her barely wrinkled forehead and cheeks.

  Glancing from his back, both Eren and Ada took a fighting stance, watching any movement or twitch from Iris’s fingers. Letting his golden revolver continue to situate inside of his holster, his nostrils began to clean out any unneeded air that was trapped inside of his lungs.

  As his voice drew as low as a timpani.

  (Agent Briggs) You two follow those men and make sure that you bring them alive.

  (Agent Eren) Understood.

  Both Eren and Ada sprinted back the way they came. As the two of them tried to find other ways inside the building, it only left Briggs and Iris to stare at each other.

  The desert plowing scorching wind into his pale neck, he raised both of his clenched fists up to his face, keeping his thumbs on the sides of his hands. Buckling his knees, clenching his teeth, and releasing his breath, Briggs's eyes slanted inward to form a cold glare.

  (Agent Briggs) I don’t care if you’re a woman. I’ll break both of your arms.

  Sliding her left foot back, she made a lunging position while keeping her rolling pin knife hovering at Brigg’s face. Letting out a small smirk, her right lip arched up, keeping her right hand inside of her pants.

  (Iris) I suppose I shall treat you the ways to a woman’s heart then.