chapter 12 The Duel
"Didn't expect to see me, did you?!" Xolomon's voice thundered through the room. The words were directed squarely at Robert; the other two occupants might as well have been shadows for all the attention he spared them. His grotesque face bore a ghastly grin that was even more unnerving than the depth of his cavernous voice and the faint chime of shattered glass fragments settling across the tiled floor.
Indeed, Robert had not expected the entrance.
His body had reacted before his mind fully could—he stood rigid, posed in a defensive stance. One hand holding the earthen weapon was raised instinctively towards the towering elemental, as though to ward it off. His pulse pounded in his ears as he looked warily from Xolomon to the doctor far behind him. The man stood pressed against the wall, palm flattened against it and breathing tightly. A thin cut marked Wizzlehette's right cheek—a souvenir from the explosion of glass.
Robert's attention then shifted to Miss Greene. She remained by the closed door.
Of all of them, Greene appeared the least rattled by the ice monster's entrance—though certainly not unaffected by it. If anything, she seemed the most bewildered, judging by her slightly open mouth and her curious, unwavering stare. She was studying the elemental with an intensity that suggested questions rather than fear.
Wizzlehette lifted a hand and rubbed beneath his eye, wiping away—or perhaps smearing—the blood streaking his cheek. "What the hell are you?!" he demanded, immediately drawing Xolomon's attention.
The ice elemental turned slowly until he stood squarely facing the doctor. Each of the three steps he took sent a subtle tremor through the floor and cracked tiles. His face twisted in aggravated contempt.
"Incompetent buffoon," he growled. "You fail at even the simplest tasks." With a swift motion, a long icicle materialized in his grasp. He drew back his arm without hesitation and hurled the frozen spear straight toward Wizzlehette's face. And then...
Well, no 'then' here.
Time seemed to slow down for Robert as he watched the icicle speed toward the doctor. "I can't let this happen," he thought. "But you can't take over, Poison. Miss Greene would lose it if she sees me use your... our powers. If principal Carve finds out... I won't be allowed to stay in school anymore. My life would be over!" However, Poison's voice promptly slashed through his thoughts. "That man is going to die if you just stand there and keep speculating!"
As the icicle drew nearer, Robert felt more at loss for what to do. He had to make a decision — expose Poison and save the man who had just tried to kill him, or stay where he was, do nothing, and watch a life end right before his eyes for the first time.
The second option seemed so irresistibly convenient to Robert. After all, he had no personal ties with Doctor Roy Wizzlehette. A little indulgence in his downplaying habit and every trace of guilt would simply fade away.
But...
After a streak of motion too swift for the eyes to properly follow, Robert skidded to a halt just a few feet away from the doctor, the icicle clutched in his fist. The frost bit into his palm. Before anyone in the ward could react, he flung aside the icicle and the rock dagger he'd been holding against the far wall to his left.
Robert then turned his head toward Miss Greene. She did not fail to notice the uncertainty in his eyes. But then as his gaze slowly shifted back to Xolomon, it hardened into something more controlled and resolved.
Slowly, deliberately, Robert's form began to shift—expanding and reforming. His skin broke apart into cascading grains of sand, his frame broadening, height increasing, mass swelling, until he stood tall as a hulking Earth elemental. His limbs were thick, his torso vast and imposing, and every movement was accompanied by the subtle shifting whisper of countless grains sliding into place. Awe-inspiring.
Even as Robert began his transformation, Miss Greene nearly gasped, but the sound never came. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened further as she placed a trembling hand to her chest. She stumbled back a step. Her stunned eyes remained fixed on the imposing sand figure Robert had now transformed into—Poison, her normally composed face stretched to the brink of astonishment.
Robert, somewhere within that earthen shell, noticed it. The shock. The disbelief. A first for her.
And even now, she was still so beautiful.
Xolomon turned and sneered at Greene. A dense sphere of ice coalesced in his palm, swelling rapidly as frost spiralled around his arm. With a roar, he hurled the ball of ice toward her. But before it could hit her the next second, Poison dashed forward and struck the ball away. In the same breath, he scooped up Miss Greene and Wizzlehette with surprising care and bolted out of the ward, out of the building, and onto the lawn.
He set them down upon the lush stretch of green and orange grass.
"Robert will be fine, Miss," Poison said in a low, gravely voice that rumbled like distant thunder. "You should call the cops. If there are any enforcers nearby call them. And call a hospital too... a different hospital."
Miss Greene gazed up at him in quiet wonder. His sandy face bore subtle ridges and grooves that formed a face. The elemental resembled a large, broad, bald man—a living statue sculpted from fine sand.
"So that's where the sand blade came from," she murmured thoughtfully, almost amusedly, smiling faintly.
Poison's mouth lifted in a grin. "It's a dagger," he corrected. Without another word, he turned sharply and sprinted off towards the building, the wind trailing him.
——————
Xolomon's face broke into a wicked grin as Poison returned to the doorway of the ward with remarkable swiftness. The gust that accompanied his arrival swept through the corridor, scattering loose papers into a brief, frantic whirl, and as he stopped, the wind curled forward into the ward itself, pushing back the pale vapor oozing from Xolomon's body.
But there was no joy in Xolomon's smile, only pure resentment.
Poison casually leaned against the doorframe. "Still haven't gotten over that little desecration, have you, Xolomon?" he asked.
Xolomon let out a harsh guffaw and took a long breath. "You have no idea how much I despise you, Gabor," he growled. As he spoke, a thick mist spiralled around his right hand, drawing together to form a long, thin, sharp icicle.
Poison regarded the icicle with a thoughtful glance. "Seems the Icicle is still your favorite spell, yes?" He asked, as though he were chatting with a dear friend. His relaxed posture stood in stark, almost mocking contrast to Xolomon's rage.
"You're not wrong," Xolomon answered. "Yet, you and I both know that those who have attained our level of mastery wouldn't bother fancying spells. We would always prefer... elemental-morph."
And without waiting for a reply, the ice elemental dispersed into thin air.
Instantly, Poison snapped into alertness. "Robert," he muttered, scanning the room as he walked in with slow, cautious steps, "this is what a battle between Legendary wizards looks like."
"Wizards? You two were wizards, As in... actual wizards?" Robert's voice echoed in Poison's mind. "I've always imagined being one!"
"Of course you have!" Poison remarked dryly.
Robert returned the unenthusiasm. "Well, then... best of luck. I'll be happy to watch as long as I'm not the one getting hurt."
But Robert barely finished when Poison felt a sudden, biting cold pierce through him, and at the same time, a long icicle burst outward from his chest in a spray of sand.
"That's right—a true battle between wizards!" Xolomon iterated as Poison collapsed to the floor to reveal his figure standing directly behind him.
Poison pushed himself up slowly, but before he could fully rise, a savage kick from Xolomon sent him flying sideways. He crashed into the X-ray machine, and the large device crumpled under the impact, its scanning arms snapping and hurtling across the room. Sparks sprayed into the air like frantic fireflies.
"Ooo, brutal," Robert quipped. "I wonder what he's gonna thrust into you chest this time."
Poison groaned as he attempted to rise to his feet once more.
Xolomon advanced without haste. Reaching the wreckage, he seized half of the ruined machine and tore it free. He then hoisted the mangled mass high above his head; where its edges scraped against the ceiling, gouging out chunks of concrete while wrecking two light panels. Glass and debris sprinkled downward.
With a grunt, he brought the slab of metal crashing down onto Poison with a heavy thud.
The entire ward shuddered from the impact.
Xolomon lifted the hunk to repeat the assault, but this time, Poison reached forward with his arm and gripped Xolomon's ankles. Snarling, he pulled with great force, causing the ice elemental to break balance and topple backwards, and in that same instant, the heavy slab slipped from his grasp and descended upon his face with a heavy crash.
The ward trembled again. From beyond the walls, Robert could already hear screams and the sound of panicked voices.
Xolomon morphed into a cloud of ice particles and swept across the room. He reintegrated close to the door.
By then, Poison was back on his feet.
As soon as Xolomon's form solidified completely, thick mist spiralled around his hand once more which swiftly condensed into a dense ball of ice.
The large ice ball hurtled from one end of the room towards Poison, but as it was about to collide with his face, he disintegrated into a cluster of fine dust and dispersed before the attack could hit him. The ice ball darted on, smashing through the far wall and blasting an opening into the adjacent ward. A man screamed.
Xolomon materialized where Poison had stood moments earlier. He looked around the ward. Poison was nowhere to be seen. No cloud of dust, no oddly shifting grains of sand, no sound of movement. Nothing to hint at his presence. The ward lay still and silent, save for the sound of settling debris.
Xolomon's countenance illuminated with a wry smile.
"Do you imagine hiding will suffice, Gabor?" He growled. Though his eyes saw nothing, he could feel it—the subtle hum (Or pressure... tingle... the sensation cannot be described) of energy that marked Poison's presence. "Just as Ice bullets unfailingly find a mark, your transgressions will ultimately be your undoing!"
Xolomon closed his eyes and remained still for a second. Then, he thrust both hands downwards. At once, the ice shards that littered the ward shuddered. Slowly, they lifted off the floor, rising in the air until hundreds of ice splinters hovered around him. More began to materialize.
"Ice bullets!" Poison whispered in alarm, his voice a mere breath of air; he was invisible, standing still against the wall near the window.
"Ice bullets? What are those?" Robert's voice echoed in his mind. His tone carried little concern. Even if Xolomon were dropping half the planet on them, it technically wasn't his problem. Enjoy the damage and give me a show, Poison!
"Ice bullets are a Mystic Ice spell designed for wide-area devastation, but they take a while to cast," Poison thought swiftly. "Once they're released, though, thousands of ice shards would shoot out in all directions. Perfect for mass killing... and flushing out invisible enemies." A pause. "The good news is that it takes roughly fifteen seconds to gather and conjure enough shards to attain maximum effect, so we've still got a few seconds to spare."
"We?" Robert asked amusedly. "I'm only spectating, Poison. This is your fight. Besides, you were the one who pissed him off."
"Whatever," Poison whispered, still invisible. "I've got a surprise for him."
With a subtle sweep of his left hand, a dozen rock daggers materialized. They hovered silently.
Just as Xolomon completed the Ice Bullet spell, he opened his eyes — only to see a hail of rock daggers hurtling towards him. Reacting quickly, he crossed his arms, conjuring a thick wall of ice that materialized mere inches from his face. The Earth daggers struck into the Ice wall with explosive cracks, splintering fissures that spiderwebbed across its surface.
No sooner had the daggers been obstructed than a massive boulder smashed into the ice wall, obliterating and shattering it into a thousand fragment. Xolomon dodged to the side just in time, avoiding the wreckage. Even as he regained his balance, he spotted a smaller rock projectile hurtling towards him, which he effortlessly slapped aside.
But that wasn't all...
Before Xolomon could spot Poison, the sand elemental materialized directly in front of him and began to unleash a flurry of ferocious blows that reversed the tide of the battle in an instant. Xolomon struggled to defend himself, but Poison's relentless assault quickly overwhelmed him as he struggled desperately to block each strike. A strike to the jaw slipped partially through his blocking hands, snapping his head sideways and slightly cracking the ice along his cheek. That single, barely deflected punch told him everything.
He was losing.
And he had to do something.
With a surge of energy, his body dispersed into a gust of air and blew around the room. The gust re-converged close to the wall just where the ice ball had slammed through, a few feet behind Poison who was still looking around for him.
Reforming in a blink, Xolomon wasted no time. Thick mist spiralled into his palm, shaping itself into a long icicle. Thrusting savagely, he lunged at Poison, who, at that very instant, swerved around.
But he had no time to defend.
Xolomon drove the icicle straight into Poison's head with a jab so powerful, the sand elemental was sent flying backward across the ward. He crashed violently into what remained of the x-ray machine. Metal and wrecked components went flying in all directions, accompanied by electric sparks that illuminated the ward like fireworks.
Xolomon sneered. He turned toward the shattered window, clearly intending to use the elemental-morphing ability, but then a long, thin spike of rock suddenly stabbed through his side. The blow tore a roar of rage and shock from him.
Despite his power and ferocity, Xolomon knew Poison possessed one crucial—annoying—advantage: super-rapid regeneration.
Though beings like them—elementals—did not experience pain in the conventional sense, damage to their forms produced a relentless, intrusive discomfort that gnawed at their awareness like an unseen parasite. It was not agony in the normal sense, but a persistent irritating disturbance that clawed at their senses like an itch. Unlike Poison, Xolomon's own recovery would require a relatively substantial amount of time. He knew the injury would take a significant toll on his strength.
Xolomon's eyes were wide with fury as he turned and fixed a glare upon Poison, who had completely focused on wrenching the icicle out of his head with both hands.
Xolomon grasped the rock spike protruding from his side and ripped it out. With it in hand, he began advancing slowly toward the Earth elemental.
When he got to the center of the ward, he halted.
Then, he raised the spike high above his head. But instead of attacking Poison, Xolomon gathered his every might and drove the spike into the floor.
The impact detonated through the building like a shockwave. The ward convulsed violently. A cacophony of shattering glass erupted as windows throughout the hospital burst simultaneously. The force equally caused Poison to stumble backwards.
The low sound of concrete cracking immediately followed, and, right on cue, huge cracks began to appear on the floor.
Poison, still trying to comprehend what just happened and hands still tugging at the icicle lodged in his head, looked down to see a large fissure tearing through the tiles. The fracture raced outwards, crawling up the walls and branching across the ceiling.
Xolomon had compromised the building's structural integrity!
"And once again, Gabor, your actions have led to misfortune of many!" Xolomon said grimly. "How will you accept responsibility this time?" With that, his body dissolved in a swirling cloud of ice particles. The cluster drew together and shot out through the opening where the tinted windows had once stood.
"No!" Robert's voice echoed in Poison's mind. "You can't let him leave!"
"How exactly do you expect me to stop him?!" Poison snapped, finally wrenching out the icicle with a violent pull. The hole in his forehead instantly filled with more sand.
"So this is it? It's gonna be like this forever?" Robert asked. "He keeps coming. We keep fighting. Over and over and over again. Poison, I can't keep living like this!"
"I told you to get used to it."
"I can't get used to this. No one can!"
"Kid, now's not the time."
Poison tossed the icicle aside. "Right now," he continued, "we have to make sure not a single person in this hospital meets their end today because of us."
"But wait..." Robert cried. "Xolomon could be outside. He could still be out there hurting people—Miss Greene—!"
Poison cut him off sharply. "You see that spike Xolomon just plunged into the floor? It's damage is so severe that this building is going to collapse." The groaning of splitting concrete and twisting metal was much louder now. Poison was nearly shouting. "I have to do something about those still inside immediately. After that, if Xolomon's still nearby, we'll take care of him!"
The floor lurched beneath him, and a fresh crack split across the tiles with an ear-shattering snap.
Poison lowered himself onto the fractured ground and shut his eyes, pressing both palms flat against the trembling surface.
It was a strange, almost absurd sight—an enormous sand elemental kneeling amid destruction.
"What are you doing?!" Robert's voice demanded.
"I'm trying to fuse this building back together," Poison answered. His 'eyes' remained tightly shut in focus. "Fortunately, my magic energy is Earth-branded, and If I can access my Mystic-level power, I might be able to stabilize it."
He reached out with his senses. He could feel the lattice of concrete around him, and he tried to will it back...
Then—
A violent jolt rippled through the floor directly beneath him.
The next instant — Poison did not even bother to react — the section of the floor he was kneeling on broke off completely and plummet downward into the ward below, crashing down onto the floor with a deafening, jarring thud. Poison landed heavily amid the wreckage and opened his eyes in silent self-mockery.
Whatever he thought he was doing apparently was not working.
The ward he was in now had no one in it. It had cracks everywhere, light panels hanging askew. From the equipments and instruments that lay scattered across the floor, he could guess it had been a surgical ward.
"Damn it!" Poison roared, shooting to his feet. "The damage is too extensive. In your body, I do not have enough of my power to rebind something this far gone. Last option is to evacuate everyone before this place comes down."
Above and around them, the building groaned like a dying beast.
Robert could feel the tremors through Poison's body. "They're already evacuating," he said. "The entrance has to be jammed by now. We just gotta make sure no one's left behind... but how are you gonna check every single ward in time?"
"How else?" Poison replied calmly, pausing briefly to allow Robert a thought.
It took Robert two seconds. "Ah," Poison heard him say, "why do I keep forgetting...?"
...ZOOM.
Like a sports car on the open road, Poison sped off.
And then...
As usual, there was no then.
At a rapid pace that was quite difficult for the eyes to follow, Poison raced through the hospital, generating winds that rippled through the corridors.
When he encountered occupied wards, he scooped up individuals and tucked them against his side before surging onward to search the next. The individuals had neither time nor clarity to visually comprehend what was happening. To them, it was all rapid motion.
Within two and a half minutes, Poison had searched the entire building and delivered every occupant to the lobby, where, though stunned by how they got there, the rescued people promptly joined the crowd pressing toward the main exit.
Invisible, Poison watched from a side of the lobby as the crowd scramble for the exit. He listened to Robert's voice suggest something and responded with a small nod.
Then, Poison lowered his hulking body slightly into a sprinter's starting posture.
In the next heartbeat, he sprung forward.
He slammed through a section of the wall near the entrance door—deliberately choosing a point where the damage would not endanger the crowd. A new opening was created and a brief cheer rippled through the people as many rushed to the new exit.
Moments later, Poison swiftly relocated to the parking lot, ducking behind a service truck at the far end of the assembly of parked cars just as he slowed down, yards away from the structurally compromised building. He then reformed into Robert, who immediately felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion wash over him, leaving his heart pounding, hands trembling, and his breath coming in gasps.
"Are you alright, kid?" Poison's voice spoke quietly inside his mind as Robert placed a shaky hand against the ground to steady himself.
"I'm fine," Robert managed between breaths. "Just a bit… winded."
"Maybe I shouldn't go fast anymore," Poison said. "Your body doesn't seem to be able to handle it. I noticed you reacted the same way back during…"
"The springball game," Robert finished. "Yeah, I remember."
He exhaled slowly.
"Still, you did it. Everyone's safe—or at least they should be. And the way you charged through that wall... amazing!" he said, managing a weak but genuine grin.
"Thanks," Poison replied ecstatically, but his tone changed completely when he immediately exclaimed, "Oh, crap!"
"Crap what?" Robert asked, confused.
"Xolomon!"
"Xolomon? Where?"
As if to answer his question, the sharp rattle of gunfire erupted across the grounds. Robert stepped out from behind the truck and looked toward the noise.
High above the hospital building, suspended in mid-air, floated a frosty wind elemental. Its eyes scanned the crowd below as the bullets ricocheted off its temporarily denser patches or passed straight through the vaporous portions of its form.
Even from a distance, Robert could make out the small hole visible in its abdomen — clearly the damage inflicted by Poison's rock spike.
"Xolomon can fly?" Robert muttered, unable to tear his gaze away from the floating figure. The elemental looked like an imposing humanoid mass of frosty gale—highly dense steam—hovering in the air.
"No he can't," came Poison's reply. "I mean... technically. He's using the elemental-morphing ability in a way that his body is in a liminal state, mid-shift between solid and gas. If done right, it creates buoyancy... Nevermind that, this shouldn't be our concern." A pause. "Robert, wave your right hand."
"What? Why?"
"You're about to cast an Earth spell. Rock dagger."
"An Earth spell?" Robert mused, startled—but there was unmistakable excitement in his voice. His hand twitched excitedly before he lifted it and gave an uncertain wave through the air.
"Now visualize a rock dagger," Poison instructed calmly. "With your eyes open."
The moment Robert focused, he felt something unfamiliar stir within him—a strange draining sensation, as though raw strength were being siphoned from his core and funneled outward through his arm. At the same time, a brown, smoke-like substance began gathering in his palm.
"What the hell is that?" Robert breathed.
"Earth magic energy," Robert replied briskly. "Now focus, kid. Picture a dagger crafted with sand or carved from stone, whichever you prefer... just try to picture the one you conjured at the ward."
"Alright, I've got it—wait—whoa, look at that!" Robert exclaimed as the brown 'smoke' fused together into an impeccably smooth stone dagger which hovered inches above his hand.
"Not bad. Now, focus on the intention to send the dagger straight towards Xolomon with great speed. Aim for the hole in his belly of you can."
"Got it," Robert closed his eyes and ("You have to keep your eyes open, kid.") opened them again. He fixed his gaze on Xolomon and concentrated with all his might.
But instead of launching forward, the dagger shot backward.
"Argh!" he cried as the shard drove straight into his eye.
He staggered, yanking the dagger free in shock. Even as he did, the injury healed up immediately and his eye regrew without so much as a scar.
"Try again, but this time without wondering if it's going to pass through him."
——
From his position in the air, Xolomon surveyed the scattered throng below. Faces were tilted upward in visible horror, mouths agape, hands trembling as countless phones were raised to record the spectacle.
At the edge of a cluster, Xolomon spotted Miss Greene staring up at him as well, but her expression was strikingly different from that of the others — instead of horror, her face reflected fascination and curiosity.
Plus, she had a certain... aura.
Xolomon's visage tightened in confusion.
Yet a sneer soon followed as a thought occurred.
"The boy would never forget this."
In his palm, frost began to gather rapidly, spiralling inward as a ball of ice began condensing. It grew larger and denser by the second. The sight of it sent the crowd into renewed panic. People shrieked and scattered in all directions, pushing and stumbling over one another in desperate retreat.
Clearly, the gale-ish entity was preparing an attack.
But even as Xolomon raised his arm, aiming the massive frozen projectile downward—directly at Miss Greene—he hesitated.
She had not moved.
She, in fact, was the only one who had not scrambled away in terror.
She still stood there, gazing up at him with that calm, searching expression.
There was something challenging in her stare, and it disconcerted him more than he was willing to acknowledge.
Remarkable bravery, thought Xolomon.
Foolish.
His lips curled again. "Good riddance, teacher."
He drew back his arm to release the ice ball.
And then he heard it.
A faint whistling sound. His head darted around in search of the source, but before he could locate it, a twelve-inch shard of smooth rock struck directly through the hole in his abdomen, scattering bits of ice and gusts of wind in every direction.
"Aaarrgh!!!!"
The furious roar shook the air. The ball of ice he had conjured instantly dispersed into white particles that faded away.
Below, the fleeing crowd faltered. Many stopped to stare up at the elemental. Miss Greene remained where she stood, though a subtle breath escaped her—something close to relief.
Xolomon's eyes darted around sharply, searching for any sign of Poison. He found nothing.
He then disintegrated into a swirling cluster of ice particles. The frozen mist twisted away from the hospital grounds and drifted off into the distance.
Only then did Robert step fully out from behind the delivery truck.
"You nailed it, kid! Right on target!" Poison exclaimed ecstatically. Robert did not miss the thrill in his voice.
"Yeah, I did," came his flat reply.
Poison caught the tone. "Thought you'd be more excited. What's the problem?"
"Xolomon won't leave me alone," he said, not whispering, but out loud. "I mean, you're the one who burned his body or whatever, not me. I don't know how you're gonna do it, but you two better settle this soul to soul, cus I truly can't take any more of this," Robert sighed, looking up at the hospital. The structure had cracks and jagged holes everywhere, but somehow remarkably still upright.
Poison's voice grew more measured. "It's not solely about desecrating his corpse. There's also the ancestor-seal."
Robert's jaw tightened.
"I told you before, it holds the power to transport our souls to the unconscious zone. There's only one of it, and that alone makes it a coveted prize. If any one of us gets it first the others remain stuck here in the body of their descendants forever. Given our... complicated history, eliminating each other becomes an even more compelling motivation."
"Don't you ever get tired of it, Poison?"
"Tired of what?"
"Making up stupid stories."
"Kid—"
Robert cut him off. "For the record, I've never really believed any of these things you tell me."
"Really? Not even the part about Xolomon's corpse?"
"Yes, that too," Robert said bluntly. "There's more to everything you've told me—you admitted that yourself. Until you decide to tell me the 'adult-friendly version of events', I'm going to struggle believing anything you tell me about your past." He shook his head and added sarcastically, "A house crashing down on your father, unconscious zone... you gotta be kidding me."
A low chuckle rumbled through Poison's voice. "You know, for a kid like you who has crazy imaginations constantly flashing through his mind, you're one heck of a skeptic. You naturally should be more open to possibilities."
"I guess that's what happens when a 'kid like me' ends up sharing his life with a... spirit like you who refuses to be honest from day one," Robert shot back.
Poison fell quiet after that.
After some seconds, he asked cautiously, "What about the ancestor-seal? You don't believe that either?"
Robert thought for a moment and answered, "Alright, I may believe that one. But I don't believe what you told me it's purpose was; there's always more with you."
"Smart kid..."
The silence between them lingered. Robert began walking toward Miss Greene, who stood a short distance away watching the hospital staff scramble about. Some were attempting half-hearted efforts to clear debris; others were discussing what had just happened. A press van was arriving.
As Robert approached Greene, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for him and Poison. What would happen if any of his 'siblings' got their hands on the so-called ancestor-seal first? Most especially, Doom... If Poison's stories were true.