In front of the hall a large stage was set up, and a crowd of thousands gathered around it. Troops in uniform stood guard with rifles in their arms, keeping a perimeter of several metres from the base of the stage. Above, helicopters hovered around; on them were journalists, cameramen, and some of the police.

Len walked with Oliver, Gumi, and Luka, waded past the crowd to keep low and simultaneously try to spot some of the would-be attackers. Luka's informant had told them of their descriptions. One of them was muscly, big, and red-haired, and the other has short white hair, with a female-like stature—but the informant said they didn't know if they were really a boy or a girl.

They walked around. Waited, and waited. But nobody matched their descriptions.

"'s there a way to disguise looks?" Len asked.

Oliver shook his head, but then he stopped in thought.

"There is a way to change how old you look, but you can never change your identity completely," she replied, taking a step forward. But then she stopped and thought again. "Actually there is a way, but it would be really obvious if you pay close enough attention."

*That doesn't help much,* Len thought, *What does obvious even look like?* And so he went back to scanning the crowd.

It was noon now, and the summer sun stung his skin, and the air was stuffed with sweat. Len wiped the drops trailing down to his eyes and looked at Oliver.

"I'm just glad I don't have my bandages anymore," Oliver said, and he looked up to the stage.

Len followed his gaze. The stage was still empty. The military stood ever still—there was no sign of change. The crowd grew restless—the murmurs grew to a chatter. And the president was yet to be found.

Len huffed a sigh, and a hand touched his shoulder and he jumped.

Luka said, "Len."

Len turned to her and nodded.

"We're going into the building. You and me."

Oliver spoke up, "What about me?"

"Stay here with Gumi in case they show up."

Oliver nodded, and glanced at Len.

Len smiled, but it was only to reassure his boyfriend. He was just as worried that if things go wrong, they couldn't be by each others' side. But Gumi is very capable with magic—and Len trusted Luka's decision.

＊＊＊

They walked into the hall with little difficulty. Stopped first by some security guards, but as soon as they showed their badges they were let through.

But as they reached the second floor, the halls were eerie-quiet. Not something you'd expect from a busy political hotspot, on one of the most important days of the year. Len took a deep breath and looked at Luka for directions, and as she walked forward he followed beside her,

"Where—" Len started to whisper but decided against it.

Luka paid no attention, and they continued to walk until a large door emerged. Wooden, traditional and unpainted. And as they took steps closer a conversation could be heard from beyond.

Len looked to Luka and she focused.

"...on, can't I play with him for a bit? Having one of the most powerful humans powerless in my hands is so exciting."

Deep voice—"no, we're here to execute him. No sex."

"You're boring. It's just a little detour from our plans. Besides, it'll make him look a lot weaker in front of the humans."

"New recruit. And you're already trying to tweak Pride's plans?"

"Excuse me? I was chosen by the sin. Not just some new recruit, you know."

"We were all chosen. You're nothing special."

"Then why did Pride give me the honour of sucking his blood, and not you?"

Luka pushed the doors open, and Len readied himself to attack. The two vampires looked at them. The one to the left, the red-haired muscly guy, stomped his foot, and the one to the right smiled.

"Remember me?" they said, holding the president aside and showing their naked body. A girl.

Len tried to ignore their question but she asked again, and she glared at him with her purple eyes. "Blondie, I asked you a question. Remember me?"

And Len had to answer. "N-No."

"Too bad," she sighed, "If you-"

"Enough chit-chatting!" The guy said, pointing to Len and Luka. "If you two so much as take another step I'm going to blow him into pieces."

And Len froze. What should he do? He's never had to make a choice like this before. Look at Luka. What's she doing? Her—

"Hey, that wasn't the plan—"

"Shut up! I'll do what I want."

And Luka lifted her hand and a bolt of lightning beamed to the angry man. Len closed his eyes—the afterimage—yellow burned in his eyes and as he realised he should keep his guard up a hand caught his arm.

"Hi," the girl—and Len didn't even know if it was right to call her that—smiled and directed his hand to her right boob.

Len felt it with a horrific twist in his stomach. He pulled his hand away and as he tried with his other hand to attack the girl pulled the president in front of her as a shield. Len changed course but with his focus diverted a kick sneaked into his crotch and he jumped back in pain.

Boom, and a wall crashed down the side. Len looked at it. Water poured down from the broken pipes and with a flourish Luka shot it at the enemy. And with just a stomp of his foot he caused an explosion and vaporised it all.

Yeah she doesn't need help.

Len turned back to his assigned enemy and she let a tongue out. She said, "What're you going to do?"

Len looked at a crack below her, and as he directed some energy there, and pushed his hand up, a stone spike shot up. But she dodged back and pinned the president's clothes—and it stuck under his vest and as her hands waved the spikes turned into a blade, cutting, ripping his tops apart.

He stood there, shivering, and with one step ready to run he stopped. His eyes narrowed in fear, and he turned to her, trembling, as she sauntered to him with leisure—Len raised a wall of fire between them—but she ghosted through it, and took his arm.

Len tried to think of another way to separate them but in a blink her arm was around his neck. She whispered, and her breath wormed in his neck, "I really would've liked to play with you a bit more—maybe watch you cum—but Pride wouldn't let me—"

A shock on his back, rattling his spines and shooting through the cord, Len coughed, and the blow tugged on his head and made it split. He waved his arms to save himself but they were too slow, and he didn't know what to do—and he looked to Luka who turned to him, shooting a bolt to the girl behind him but the man directed his hands at Luka, and Len wanted to warn her but his mouth staticked shut. And a drowned garble mumble and as Len brought in his arms, pain blasted through his body and everything went black.

＊＊＊

The dust settled after a few minutes, and even though his whole body was bruised, full of wounds, he was still alive. Luka stood before him, offering a hand, but given how she was closer to the centre of the blast, she did not look much better.

Len pushed himself up, and looking at himself he felt glad Oliver didn't come with them. He'd hate to see him in pain—bruised in his beautiful face, scratched and scorch-marks on his milky arms. Sure, it'd heal, and Oliver would survive, but seeing all that would twist him.

Though, he had to wonder, how Oliver would feel seeing him like this.

He muttered, "Let's—see how Ollie, and Gumi are doing."

Luka agreed, and they walked out of the thrashed office.

Through the second floor window, the girl stood on the stage. She held the president in front of her, and bore her fangs by his neck. The crowd rumbled around but in a second they froze, and turned robotically back, looking up. She held her hands on his parts—he moaned into the microphone and a scream and blood erupted from his neck.

Len limped forward—he wanted to do something but there was nothing to do. Nothing he could do. They had already lost. Wounded, bruised—Len stood no chance.

A gush of brown—mud—entered the stage and wrapped around the man. He struggled against it but it swallowed him and pulled him back.

A tug on his hand and Len followed Luka trudging as fast as they could.

Gumi? Oliver?

And Len returned to the window to check on the girl but she was too busy to notice.

"Where are we going?" Len asked. "We don't know where they are."

Then he looked down. Luka held her phone in her hand.

"We do."

＊＊＊

In the apartment Luka had rented, Len still panted from the run back. And the idea that they might be followed by Naked Vampire Girl wasn't fun either. But they got home, safely, so maybe he should calm down a bit.

He looked at the brown mound on the table. Explosion Man was cocooned up in some sort of hardened clay. His eyes were closed, asleep, and a small wound was visible on his upper arm.

"What're we going to do with him now?" Len asked.

Oliver said, "Kill him?"

"No," Luka replied, "We can't just kill him. The Sin would just transfer to another host."

"Then what do we do?"

"I," Luka paused. "Nobody knows how to get rid of them. So our best bet would be to just—keep him from doing anything."

Len looked at him.

Oliver replied, "We can't keep them all forever. They're going to break out eventually."

"You're right," Luka replied, "but if we can contain them, then we'll have time to figure out how to neutralise them."

Everyone nodded, and they were silent for a while.

Then a shout from the table. "You talk too much—"

Len's eyes stung and shut and a blow blasted him to the wall. His back shivered in the impact but he was able to hold it. Keep from crying. But it was different from the first blast Len endured. This one felt a little empty—there was no heat to it. Sure it scratched him a bit and it felt a bit warm, but it wasn't the fiery hell the first one was.

Len wiped the soot of the edges of his eyes and tested it open. And the cloud boiled around, and when he checked around, all the walls, floor, and furniture seem to be untouched.

But another blast came and shocked him back to the wall—his head, back, legs, crushed against the concrete, and though he closed his eyes the pressure made it bright. And with another knock, crushing, the sounds, the pain drowned out.