15 seconds.
Time.
He didn't have.
An audacious grin enveloped Alexandria as a pale gold aura burst from him. Within a split second, the pale gold aura morphed into a bright blue pool of water that floated behind him.
Gold Tiered Awakened. Peak one at that.
Blanc reevaluated his entire game plan on the fly. He ignored the aches gutting his insides by the second and lunged. Alexandria's aura baited him into submission, the purity of an Awakened against the likes of him. He bit his lip, maintaining clarity. Alexandria moved with the precision of a two-year-old and the speed of a crawling toddler: slow.
"Gold Grade Art: Snakes in the Abyss," Alexandria chanted.
The water behind the noble formed tens of supple, slippery tentacles that wormed through the air. All wariness froze under their speed. Blanc moved like flickering light, seemingly far ahead of the noble. One, two, his figure zipped past the first flurry of water tentacles. Two, three, he breached Alexandria's defenses: too close to attack, too far to react. He struck, aiming for the noble's eyes. The untrained man staggered in panic, swinging an arm for protection. Blanc used it against him, striking hard and fast into the midsection, followed by three successive whips to the knee.
Alexandria fell to one knee. Blanc went for the finish. When the needle made contact with skin, Alexandria whispered. Water claimed them both in that instant. Blanc reacted a moment too late. The water flooded them both before it froze over.
Gold Grade Art: Frigid Prison. Alexandria's favorite trick.
Awakened. He hated them all the more. Blanc racked his brain for immediate solutions. Only twelve seconds were left before the battle became impossible. Alexandria smirked, slowly removing himself from the awkward position Blanc had put him in. He spoke a few words too. Blanc read the man's lips: "Have a taste of that, many fucks, dear motherfucker."
Blanc denied him the satisfaction. To the horror and pain that swept through him, Blanc redirected the anti-gravity fields outward, plunging himself right through the frozen spherical prison. Alexandria barely reacted, and the syringe punctured the skin on his neck.
Crack!
The frozen prison lined with cracks and shattered an instant later. Blanc waited for the truth serum to work. Alexandria's body went limp, and then, as if awoken from a nightmare, his eyes shot open.
Nearly screwed me over.
Blanc knelt down, only ten seconds to spare before the suit lost its marvelous abilities to keep him hidden. He missed his golden core. With it, a more robust plan under the current constraints would have worked perfectly.
He dragged the fool by his golden hair and threw him back onto the Aeon Tiger-furred chair, setting him exactly as he had been when Blanc found him.
"So, Alexandria. When next are you meeting with Bonny Clyde?"
"Next week Tuesday, under the Faraway Bridge, in a secret tunnel. Invite only," the man said, slurring his words like a drunk.
Blanc paused. Faraway Bridge. The location rang too many bells. Dangerous ones. Intuition scratched his neck. Something big was coming into the city. He didn't care. He had better plans and bigger worries instead.
5 seconds.
Blanc disappeared through the path he had come from, putting everything back in place with skill. The escape went much faster than the entry, not because it was easier, but because he simply had no choice. He pushed his cracked core into overdrive and blasted the suit to its fullest potential. Mere seconds later, he was two blocks away, panting.
He pushed himself to wind through the city once more, layering a thick shell of anti-tracking before making his way back to the safe house. He tore away Blanc's costume and fell back into Lariat, collapsing onto the chair in the kitchen. A lot of work was cut out for him, and he understood that. But tonight, he needed to rest and gather the few bits of energy he had to keep going.
Pain finally seeped into his bones. It humbled his stoic features, drawing squiggly ravines along his face. Wrinkles and tightly knit frowns kept sounds from gurgling out of his throat, and the warmth of his goal kept him anchored. Sleep embraced him at some point.
Bright morning light and the sound of roosters cawing pried his heavy eyes open. Blurred vision focusing on the cabinets in front of him signaled his exit from slumber. The migraine pulsing like a tennis-ball-sized tumor among fragile nerves reminded him of his living status. He rolled up, walked to the sink, and washed his hands. The chilly water was what he needed at that instant.
His fractured morning routine remained somewhat. Only, there was no one to get wood from the forest, and the suburban bustle rose along with the burning sky. Lariat went downstairs after a quick shower. Downstairs led into a small basement. No furniture except for a board, desk, and stationery decorated the place. Back then, he and his wife had planned for the place to serve as a daycare for their little girl, but they changed plans and moved to the country instead.
To the tune of his deep, steady breaths, he began his work. He traced the order of events to the best of his abilities, even if it seemed inadequate. First on the board was the Emporium, with a big question mark. Their goal interested him. Why him in particular? That, he couldn't understand. Sure, he had skills. He was legendary within the business. But in his crippled state, there wasn't much he could do in the grander scheme of things.
Next, he slammed the note with Beth's name on it and drew a relationship between her and the Emporium. Somehow, they knew about her. And for him, that meant someone had betrayed him long before he realized it. The thought pinched his heart. Only, it was to be expected in his line of work.
And next, he put up Faraway Bridge. He had a gut feeling that the moment he went there, he'd become part of events he didn't want to sink into. Yet, for the sake of his sanity, he needed to go there regardless. Finding his colleague needed proactive searching, especially when everything lined up perfectly. Missing this chance meant six months of searching. Six months he didn't have.