"Do you want one, Mr. Black?"

Glancing down, Mr. Black saw a small boy offering a chocolate bar. Within his hood, a dark brow arched. Such sweets were a hard find, and if a child got a hold of one, it was more likely they'd hoard it themselves. Why this child was willing to part with his treat was a mystery to him. Perhaps it was because the boy wanted something from him, or felt an obligation to do so for some reason.

Whatever the reason, Mr. Black was feeling somewhat hungry. And he had no problem taking candy from a child. So he reached out and snagged the chocolate. "Thank you," he told the boy.

The boy looked startled. He looked at his empty, outstretched hand, like he couldn't believe it. It looks like he didn't expect me to take it, Mr. Black thought to himself, while unwrapping the bar. He found it amusing.

He ate the bar, watching the boy from within the shadows of his blue hood. Once he got over his shock, the boy looked like he wanted to cry. But he managed to hold back his tears, and gave Mr. Black a brave, determined look. It lasted all of two seconds before he turned and fled.

Ah, reminds me of a certain brat, Mr. Black smiled. He stuffed the wrapper into a pocket, and strode out of the small room. It was more of an alcove, filled with a variety of supplies. Shelves lined the walls and boxes and barrels nearly covered the floor. This room was one of many spread throughout the tunnel system.

As the scavengers came back with more and more useful items, these supply alcoves were gradually being filled. There was still quite a ways to go, but Mr. Black could envision a complete underground fortress with enough supplies for hundreds of people to survive on for quite some time.

He slipped his hands inside his coat's pockets as he walked, allowing a soft sigh to puff into the cool air.

How long had he'd been down here? It felt like years, even though he knew it to only be a few short months. It was cold and damp and utterly stifling down here, and he hated every moment of it.

Yet it was the only option he had left. To stay on the surface would be an extremely foolish and risky idea. He gone above ground a couple of times in the past, but only for a few hours at a time. What he learned then had been enough for him to decide on the course of action he was taking now.

Still, will I have enough time? The hands in his pockets clenched, and his chest twinged with a familiar, dull ache. His chin dipped, his shoulders slightly hunched, yet he didn't stop moving. I'm sorry. But all I can do is rely on you. Buy me some time, that's all I ask.

"Gyaa!" A woman's pained cry cut into his thoughts. And although he didn't want to admit it, it was a welcome distraction. Lifting his head, he followed the sound's echo through the tunnel.

He came across a half-naked woman surrounded by three men. All of them bore the pale, unhealthy skin of the Forbidden residents. The men had cornered her against the wall, blocking off all pathways to escape. One was currently pawing at her waist, tearing off her thin clothing.

Mr. Black came up behind them as silent as a ghost, so that only the woman saw him. She gazed at him with hopeful, almost worshipful eyes. It was an expression that made his stomach twist in distaste, but one that he could do nothing about.

"Mr Black," she whispered. Then louder, "Mr Black, please."

At her words, the three men froze. The one pulling off her clothing just laughed crudely and kept at it. "He ain't gonna save ya this time, whore."

Unfortunately for him, his two buddies had already noticed the tall shadow looming behind them. They wordlessly turned as pale as death itself and started to retreat. It was clear they intended to flee while abandoning their companion to his fate.

Mr. Black wasn't in the mood to let them off this time. Instead, he lifted a hand. They obediently froze, legs shaking. Then he said, "You know the rules."

At the sound of his voice, the man by the woman jerked like he'd been slapped in the face with a fish. Then he slowly turned around, all color draining from his ugly face. He swallowed once, noisily.

Seeing he had their attention, Mr. Black said, "Don't you?"

All of them, the woman included, nodded like small children.

Mr. Black folded his arms across his chest. "Very good. Then, Miss, answer one question for me. Were you willing?"

She looked at the men standing nearby, then seemed to shrink in on herself. Wordlessly, she shook her head.

"Aw, she be lying!" One of the men immediately spoke up.

Another was quick to add in his version: "We was just having fun, yeah? That's all, just having fun. No harm be in that."

Mr. Black simply looked at them. They all fell silent, shivering beneath his attention. He waited for a bit, letting them squirm in anxiety. Then he spoke. "Do you think I'm stupid? Or blind?"

Four sets of wide eyes stared at him. Three heads wobbled back and forth furiously. None dared to speak.

"If you want to go bang around like rabbits, I don't give a flying pig's arse as long as everyone is willing. And that you do it away from my sight. You've just broken both of those rules. Now, what do you have to say for yourselves?"

One of the men fell to his knees. He trembled violently and sobbed, "I's sorry, I's sorry. Please, Mr Black, please - I's sorry."

The other two fell into place beside their companion, blubbering similar words. "We made a mistake, Mr. Black. We sorry. We won't do it ever again, we swear!"

Mr. Black nodded slowly. Then he said gravely, "You are correct. You will never do so again." He stepped forward.

Leaning down, he grabbed a fistful of the middle man's shirt. He lifted the pitiful man to his feet and held him there with one hand. The other hand, he curled into a fist. Instantly, the man's eyes grew wide with horror, and he immediately began to beg in a shrill voice.

"No, no! Please, I's sorry. I's sorraaaarrrrgghggh!" His voice morphed into a horrible, agonized scream as Mr. Black threw a punch with all his strength. It was angled downwards, allowing him to put most of his body weight behind it. There a sickening thwump as his punch landed, and the man was sent flying backwards into the wall. He slammed into it before dropping to the ground in a crumpled heap. There, he curled up, both hands clutching his crotch while he wailed.

Mr. Black's gaze turned to the next man. This one immediately tried to back away, but Mr. Black seemed to disappear before reappearing right in front of him. Before the man realized it, he was hoisted in the air. A second later, his scream echoed shrilly throughout the tunnels as he joined the first man against the wall.

The final man didn't try to run. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

When all three of them were curled up by the wall, Mr. Black turned his attention back to the woman. He stared at her for a long, long moment, before speaking.

"Your face and reputation are known to me. Next time you bait others, I will let them have you. And once they are finished with you, I will tie you naked to the center post in the main chamber, so that all will bear witness to your shame. Is that understood?"

She stared back at him, her shock written all over her face. She did not react in any other way, so he left her there. The wails of the men echoed behind him in the tunnels, undoubtedly heard by many.

He strode through the tunnels, annoyance and disgust making him move faster than normal. Can't I go a single day without them testing me? A single day?!

It was only to be expected, though. The Forbidden residents were accustomed to a lawless, immoral existence, living like animals that followed their instincts and desires as they pleased. Keeping them in line was a never-ending task, one that required him to showcase strength and brutality to a level that he normally reserved for only the most horrifying of battlefields.

It was exhausting.

A few minutes later, he walked into a large, open area. It was very much like a cavern, with a seven foot ceiling that was supported by five support beams fashioned out of wood and strengthened by sheet metal nailed around them. These supports were spaced about fifteen twenty feet apart from each other, with one taking up the center.

This was the main chamber he'd mentioned to the woman earlier, and it served as a command center of sorts. When he wasn't walking the tunnels, he spent the rest of his time here. Because of this, others also gathered here when they were off duty.

Mr. Black paid them no mind. He merely walked through the room, drawing everyone's attention despite the fact that every step he took was utterly soundless. He flowed through the room like a dark shadow, yet everyone fell silent and turned to look as he passed.

It was a bit annoying, yet he did nothing about it.

He found the small table by the far pillar. There was a fat stubby candle on its surface, sitting in a tin plate. Someone had lit it a while ago, and a little flame merrily danced to and fro, casting a gentle glow across the table. There was short stool set behind the table, and he made a beeline for it.

Flinging his coat back, he sat on the stool and crossed one black-clad leg over the other. His gray coat fanned out behind him as he did so before it settled to the floor behind him. He crossed his arms across his chest, lowered his chin slightly, and glowered at the room from within his blue hood. He cut a rather imposing figure, one that no one would dare approach unless something was an emergency.

Which was exactly how he preferred it. He did not care for their petty squabbles. As long as they followed his rules, things would naturally fall into place as they should.

He managed to enjoy about five minutes of peace and quiet before a young woman burst into the main chamber, followed by a thin man swathed head to toe in dirty linen bandages with only his eyes showing. The young woman was survivor of Shann Tei's destruction, one that Mr. Black recognized immediately, as he'd selected her himself to be one of his scouts.

"Mr. Black!" She ran up to his desk, so out of breath she could hardly speak. "There's flyers! In the city - we saw them!"

"Oh?" He tapped one of his folded arms idly with a forefinger, sounding unconcerned. "How many?"

"Three of them," she answered. There was confidence in her voice - she was sure of what she saw, and Mr. Black appreciated that.

"Hmm." The finger kept tapping in an uneven rhythm that seemed to make no sense. "Can you describe them to me?"

She drooped a little. "No.... they were too far for me to make anything out."

"It's all right, Alainna," Mr. Black said, then looked towards the bandaged man. He was an oddball, even for a Forbidden resident. Yet, he'd proven to be quite the reliable asset, to the point that Mr. Black suspected he'd been a private investigator or something along those lines before he became a part of the Forbidden Zone. "Seb. What did you pick up?"

The bandaged face lifted, and a pair of striking green eyes peered into Mr. Black's hood as if he could see through the shadows. He spoke with a raspy, almost melodic voice. "One a Scout, two a Medic, three a Mountain. I see ... a strange trilogy."

A strange trilogy indeed. "What are they doing now?"

Seb remained silent, allowing Alainna to speak. "They split up, each going into a different part of the city. Some of the boys are keeping an eye on them. From a safe distance, of course."

"Good," Mr. Black softly said. "They'll be digging for something, then. Seb."

Those green eyes watched him carefully. Whatever was said, whatever was done, they would not miss a thing.

Mr. Black smiled within his hood. "Give those flyers what they're looking for."

"Huh?" Alainna looked between the two, confused.

But Seb merely dipped into an odd, regal little bow. "As commanded by the Black, I shall impart what they lack." Turning lightly, he immediately left the chamber, as silent and eerie as a ghost.

Frowning, Alainna put a hand on her hip. "What was that about? Why would you give those flyers what they want? How do you even know -"

The finger that was tapping paused in the air, cutting her off. Her frown deepened, her dissatisfaction showing clearly on her face.

"Keep your eyes open, and your mouth shut," Mr. Black said. "Those are the first steps to learning useful things."

"I know that!" she exclaimed. "But -"

"Then why is your mouth open?"

Her teeth clicked as her mouth snapped closed. She scowled for a second, then stilled. She pressed her lips together, eyes narrowing as she seemed to think of something. Then her face lit up. "Hey, do you mind if I -"

"Do as you wish." With a little wave of his hand, he dismissed her. She gave him a dark look before scampering off. He watched her go. The finger resumed its idle tapping.

I need more time....  Ah, I wonder how he's doing?

~*RW*~

"She's doing it again," Robbie complained. He sat on top of an empty oil drum, his feet kicking against the side.

The annoying sound made Tarrod glance up from the radio he was working on. He frowned. "Your sister?"

"Yeah." Robbie didn't say anything else, content to keep kicking the barrel. Grimacing, Tarrod bit back the sharp words that threatened to come out. Robbie didn't have many friends in this camp. The adults seemed to tolerate him, while the kids made fun of him, even those younger than him.

Tarrod had been nice to the kid once, and ever since, Robbie had taken on the annoying tendency of following him around like a lost puppy. There was a strange sadness to the kid, though, one that Tarrod recognized. One that he understood.

And so while others bullied him or ignored him, Tarrod made the effort to at least be kind. "What's she doing now?"

"She's scheming," Robbie said. "She's planning something, and it's going to get us all in trouble. I just know it."

Tarrod sighed. "What makes you think she's planning something?" He frowned at the radio in his hands. He couldn't figure out why it wasn't working. He'd taken it apart, but he still couldn't see anything wrong with it. Admittedly, he was no expert in this sort of thing, but it was something he'd recently started tinkering with to pass the time.

"I saw her sneaking jerky and cans of beans from the kitchen," Robbie said. "And lots of water packs. I think she's trying to go somewhere."

Pausing, Tarrod glanced up. "That does sound weird. Where would she even go?"

"Maybe to visit that flyer." Robbie made a face. "She's talks about him a lot. I don't know why. He scares me."

Him? Scary? Tarrod set the radio aside. If he were honest, the white flyer himself didn't seem all that frightening. It was the suit he wore and the abilities and training that it represented that made Tarrod wary and mistrustful. And the fact he became exactly what he said he wouldn't. Liar.

"You know, I've met him before he was a flyer," Tarrod said, before he even realized what he was saying. The words came of their own accord, along with a hint of bitterness. It wasn't something he wanted to talk about, but yet, here he was.

"Really? You've seen him before? When?" Robbie's eyes lit up with interest, and in that moment, he looked eerily like his sister.

"Back in Shann Tei," Tarrod sighed. "It was before he became a flyer."

Even though a lot of things had happened between then and now, he still remembered that moment as clear as day. They found a scared, injured kid by the river bank. He appeared more dead than alive, and more mad than sane, but somehow, that defiant determination had convinced them to help him. Even Jerrick had bought the act, extending a helping hand to a kid who would later become one of them.

"What happened?"

"Heh," Tarrod shook his head. At least, he knew better now. Flyers only brought destruction. His home fell because of them. He rose, brushing the dirt off his pants. "Never mind about that. C'mon, let's go see what your sister is up to."

"Okay!" Robbie brightened. To him, his sister was the more important subject than the flyer. He slid off the oil drum, nearly knocking it over in the process.

Tarrod left the room, only to nearly walk into a thin, wiry man. He was halfway through a muttered apology before he realized who it was. Instantly, his expression grew distant and cold.

"What do you want, Gant?"

A sinister smile grew on Gant's narrow face. "Looks like we have the same concerns," he said softly. "I figure you might wanna talk about it."

"What makes you think I want to talk to you?" Tarrod tried to keep the unease from showing. Talking to Gant felt a lot like bugs were crawling under his skin. The man had always been a little .... off, but it seemed like he'd only gotten worse since the move from Shann Tei.

"Don't be like that," Gant said. He reached out and gave Tarrod's shoulder a solid pat. It was meant as a friendly gesture, but Tarrod didn't get that vibe. A friendly Gant was a creepy Gant. "Look, there's a good opportunity coming up, and I think we'd be stupid to not use it."

"What are you talking about?" Warily, Tarrod glanced around the area without trying to be obvious. Unfortunately, no one else was in sight.

The barn they were in no longer housed animals, and had become a place where spare parts and extra, non-perishable supplies were stored. No one really frequented this area, which was why Tarrod preferred to hang out here.

He was regretting it now, though.

"Jerrick and Darren have a job for our friend." The way Gant spat the 'word' friend made it seem like it was a putrid, foul thing. "They're being stupid, thinking a flyer's gonna help them. But ya know, it's still a chance to kill two birds with one shot."

"The flyer?" Tarrod stared at Gant, not sure if the man was being serious. "You want to take out the -"

"Hold on," Gant cut him off. His eyes flickered briefly to a point just behind Tarrod. "Why don't we talk about this someplace.... quieter?"

It was then Tarrod remembered Robbie. He half turned, and saw that Robbie had been quietly listening in. Not that it worried him any, but Gant clearly did not want to discuss this in front of others. To be honest, Tarrod wanted nothing to do with Gant, and even less to do with the flyer.

Yet, a part of him was curious. Curious as to just what Gant was planning to do. Besides, he thought, if it turns out to be something crazy, I can just tell Jerrick.

"Fine," he said. "Robbie, you go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

Robbie gave a him a long look, then wordlessly headed down the narrow corridor. Each step kicked up a small puff of dirt, even more so than usual since the teen purposefully dragged his feet a little.

When he was gone, Tarrod turned back to Gant. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Gant smiled a chilling smile. "I knew you'd be interested."