Dandy walked down the steps of the arena, her words hanging in the air for a single quiet moment.

“Hello world, I am Dandy Casanova. I am your Cicero.”

After those words, a deafening rain of bullets came down on the crowd. Scores of suited individuals behind Dandy fired wildly. Some of the shots made the wood and stone crack, while others blew holes in random victims of the audience. Blood sprayed on thousand-dollar suits and million-dollar diamonds. Screams pierced ringing ears as panicked people ran for the exits and fell to the floor. Caliban hid behind his seat, trying not to get trampled.

“It’s Dandy?”  thought Caliban, “it isn’t possible! How is Dandy that psycho!”

It was every man for themselves. The Director managed to slip behind another aisle and pull out her phone. Action needed to be taken swiftly. Cicero had shown her true colors.

A choice few managed to fire back with hidden firearms. Some of the suited assassins were taken down but it was hardly a dent to their massive number. There were still at least 30 or 40 of the blank-faced killers, holding down the trigger with no sign of relenting. Bullets whizzed left and right, making chair stuffing and maroon cloth fly up into the air and yet Dandy was not hit by a single stray shot. She stepped down the stairs calmly and with that same smile on her face. A smile of disgusting enjoyment and thrill. Her wide yellow eyes were set on a single trembling figure. Figaro looked back at her from the stage, still on his knees, blood dribbling to the floor from his severed tongue. Dandy held out her arms, the plastic trigger in her hand illuminating red through the dust and debris.

“You did this Figaro!” yelled Dandy, “We had a deal and you broke contract!” Dandy’s grin widened, “Now I’m just getting severance!”

With one firm push she pressed the button and the sound of locking metal followed. Just like that the sprinklers overhead turned on, pouring on those down below. Yet what it showered wasn’t water but a crimson blood that splattered against every person in the concert hall. Figaro looked up in horror as his stage was consumed by the smell of iron, red pattering against his face and staining everything it touched.

Dandy giggled as she danced in the pelting blood, twirling with her arms spread, “I’m siiiiiiinging in the rain! Hahahaha! Drink the blood of your children you fucking prick!”

The hall was pure mayhem, bullets ripping apart everything in its path. Blood soaked hysterics shoved each other out of the way, trampling any in their path to get to safety. A stream of lead turned towards the stage ripping through curtains and plaster and then firing through Figaro’s arm. He fell on his back and cried out a horrifying and gurgling sob. Two slender legs straddled his chest as Dandy looked down at him, her blood-soaked hair tickling his face.

“It’s not like I’m surprised you betrayed me though,” said Dandy her eyes shaking with excitement, “But it’s SO much more fun to trap a mouse when you can see its about to STEAL FROM YOUR FUCKIN’ CABINET!”

Tears welled up in Figaro’s eyes. They ran down his face but they were quickly eaten up by the raining red. The maniac grabbed the broken man’s face in her hand, squeezing his cheeks tight. She was so excited she could kiss the pathetic little artist.

“KILL THE GUNNERS AND SHOOT THE GIRL!” yelled the Director from the top row, a squad of Avaes soldiers pushed through the manic crowd and fired on the suited assassins. A crisscross of fire that added more death to the overwhelming stench. Four of the Avaes soldiers aimed towards Dandy.

“MOVE!” commanded a voice as a gloved hand pushed her away. The Avaes men’s bullets narrowly missed Dandy striking the wooden stage. She looked back to see Sinclair pointing his gun at the soldiers. In a single beautifully elegant movement Sinclair fired what sounded like a single shot but it was not by any means just one. Four bullets twirled through the air with deadly precision slicing through each of the soldiers unprotected necks. The four-gunman collapsed in the blink of an eye, throwing more blood upon the walls. Shells continued to hit the blood pooled floor as Dandy’s suits continued to spray upon the remaining soldiers through the crimson rain. The Avaes’s hired guns had begun to lose the battle and were completely focused on the suits. Sinclair turned towards Dandy, his carved pale face stained with streaks of red. His eyes tore through it all, the blood, the dust, the violence, and made the mighty Cicero quiver in delight.

“That was a close one,” said Dandy, “I was so distracted I didn’t predict them, but even so you saved me again Sin-”.

Her words came to a squeaking halt as Sinclair grabbed her by the throat.

“Where is the girl you stole?” he said his voice brimming with anger.

Dandy blushed as her tongue moistened. This contact with Sinclair was almost too much to handle.

Her voice came out weak, “Sin-clair… I jus-t… want to sa-y..”

His grip tightened, “Where?”

Dandy squirmed in ecstasy, “Gar-age…Level 6…Bla-ck Truck.”

Sinclair stared into her eyes for a moment before releasing her. She collapsed to her knees and looked up to her wonderful silver jackal. Sinclair took out his phone and quickly typed a message to Adam.

“Parking Level 6 Black Truck. Go.”

The girl was almost within reach. Soon it might all be worth it. Holly’s death, his separation from Avaes, the killing of the 17, and the destruction of the Keller-Dale airport, it would all come to fruition. That girl that Cicero, no that Dandy stole, was the answer he had been looking for and it was all so close.

---------------------------------------------

Sinclair flew down the concrete stairs down to the parking garage and sprinted past rows of gaudy limousines. He turned a corner and there it was, a massive black box truck bigger than an ambulance just sitting there. As he approached the back doors kicked open and with it came gunfire. Sinclair without hesitation sidestepped and took cover behind a car. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

“SINCLAIR!” yelled a hoarse voice.

Sinclair through the reflection of the car window in front of him saw into the back of the truck. There were four people in total. One was an Avaes soldier with their gun trained on Sinclair’s cover while the one by his side was something different entirely. The figure was in a tight fit tux with a silver arm.

Havok’s frown deepened, “I’ve got your boy here! Move anyway I don’t like and I’ll END HIM!”

The third person was indeed Adam, an annoyed look on his face. Havok’s human hand pointed a gun at the boy’s temple while his silver one whirred, clamping tightly around Adam’s wrist.

“Why am I always the one that gets captured!” whined Adam, “It’s so boring being the damn princess in the tower.”

Then Sinclair shifted his sight to the final person in the truck. It was a small body in a narrow bed, laid out in the back of the box truck. It was a little girl, completely unconscious and hooked up to a multitude of machines. She couldn’t have been much older than Holly, with her chestnut hair brushing against her blushed cheeks. It was her. It was truly the one he’d been looking for. It was the girl known to him only by her code name.

Project Test Subject: Avarice, The Technician.