Chasing Sanctuary

VIRUS base.

A place of peace, quiet, calmness, and love. Or at least, that's what it appeared to be on one fine Monday morning... At least, a Monday morning in the GMT +8 time zone that was. With slaves- I mean employees- from all continents over the world, one wonders whether Cyberpolis' resident vigilante group could be considered a multinational phenomenon on the same levels as Facebook and perhaps 4chan.

Though that analogy doesn't necessarily work, seeing as both Facebook and 4chan have boobs. But I digress. It was certainly an unusually quiet day; the halls were empty, the corridors were clean, and even Devious Dragon's lab was free from intruders for that one beautiful day.

It was the stuff of Silent Knife's dreams. Absolute silence. Picture The Closeted Homosexual and Terribly Silent Knife (TCH TSK) leaning back in his chair, enjoying the stifling quietness, ready for a day of happiness and buttsex. Everything would be uninterrupted and beautifully French, especially the maid outfit that Deadly Bullet would likely be wearing later in the day. And the kisses that he would be giving... Or maybe more than kisses. Ohoho. Commence butt-humping and snoo snoo, but for TCH TSK, it all seemed to be going well until a loud voice shattered the perfection.

Oh fuck yeah.

"Get your hands off me, Hamster!"

A crystal clear, womanly voice rang out from behind the door of the rogue Fighter's office, and this was responded to with a male's deep-throated cackle. "Hamster, that's enough, that's enough- okay, maybe not. That's good. You're doing good. Very good-"

Anyone passing by would have been able to hear the female's loud moan, and the sound of glass breaking could be heard from outside the door. Now picture TCH TSK saying "Non, Non, Non," and covering his ears with his hands. Picture him storming out of his office to ask 'Ampzter to 'zeep eet', but to be greeted by something else. Another feminine voice a sharp, rambunctious giggle, and the male's voice resounded again, a mish-mash of accents and half-truths and lies:

"Come on, man, you like it. Both of you like it when I do this-" a shriek from the second female, and a groan from the first, "And this-" Another shriek, louder this time, filled with childlike mirth and mischievous glee. The other girl snorted.

"You know this isn't the farthest you can go, Hamster. Thrust with everything that you've got!"

Imagine the beauty of TCH TSK's facepalm.

"Mon dieu, merde," he would have said, shuddering and shaking his head before slinking away, his libido all gone at the thought of what sounded likely to be going on behind closed doors. In Dragon's lab, they were testing OH-acidity, but oh flaccidity was the only thing that was probably going through the poor, ailing Frenchman's head as he collapsed onto his chair. And from the other Fighter's office, the second, happier-sounding female resounded, loud, clear, and ear-piercing:

"Hamster, you're really developing an affinity for Asian hotpot, aren't you?"
__________________________________________________________

It was a few hours later when I finally strolled out of that room, Minion Cynical Ace and Fighter Mercurial Air in tow. Not that I was complaining, of course, because we had certainly been doing some rather... Interesting things in there. I'll spare you the grisly details, but let's just say that we were all hot, sweaty, and our clothes looked just that little bit worse for wear. Things had certainly been getting steamy in there, to say the least, and as I glanced towards Ace and waggled my eyebrows, she rolled her eyes, in silent acknowledgement that things had definitely gotten hotter than she had imagined.

It was so damn hot that the place had almost been on fire. And damn if Ace didn't have to buckle down and admit it.

She shall also henceforth be known as Raven, or Lesbo as and when I feel like it.

"Faggot, you've definitely gotten better," she sighed. "You're definitely... More skilled than I thought you'd be." The Minion shook her head, but I could see a semi-satisfied smile creeping up on thin lips. Some people are just so hard to please. On the contrary, Air (otherwise known as Ivy or Bunny Eater) grinned, her entire face lighting up as she spun around and stuck her hands on her hips.

"What can I say? It's both our collective awesome that's lending itself to him. It's us, not Hamsterbutt that does what he did well." She clapped her hands together in glee. "But that's really got me pumped. I say that we should do that again, only this time he is going to get his butt whipped and I'm going to make sure he gets it hard."

"Hey. Hey. I think I'll be doing the whipping next time again, you tomato-flinging Bieber fan. Both of you know you like it when you're spanked. Some like it rough, all right," I smirked, slinging an arm around Ivy's shoulder and giving Lesbo a two-fingered salute as the three of us entered the VIRUS common room. It wasn't long before she immediately stormed off to her lesbian partner and Air shot me a look of sheer innocence, before skipping off into the sunset, presumably to go eat some more bunnies or something.

Note that I've seen her eat way more... Delectable things than bunnies, with my very own eyes, but that's a story for much, much later. Either way, I was alone by the time I strolled towards the nearest couch and flopped back on it. But like in all B-grade movies, not for long. Nobody is ever alone for long.

Commence a dramatic rendition of Star Wars' Imperial March blaring out in the background as Diabolical Muffler sauntered her way up towards me, looking rather dapper and diabolical, even if I do say so myself. Her great, imposing, five-foot-two shadow loomed over me like the great spectre of Michael Jackson on his plastic surgeon, and if my eyes didn't deceive me I could have sworn that she gazed at me with the intensity of the exploding Death Star.

I took a bite of my cake.

Not bad, a little too sweet though. Six out of ten.

"Sup?"

"Hamster." Amethyst eyes stared into teal, and I quirked an eyebrow. She looked like she had serious business, all right. "Hamster. You did get the memo from the Overlord, did you not?"

"Yeah I did," I said, scooting over to the left, patting the seat on the couch next to me. Shooting her a grin, I couldn't help but marvel that this was the lovely woman who I had been married to for a grand total of two weeks. Because honestly? Azzy-baby was everything that I'd ever wanted in a life partner: smart, beautiful, and absolutely off her rocker. Of course there was the fact that we had kind of gotten married while we were wasted off our asses by a rather dubious priest that had asked to join us in our post-wedding consummation, and the fact that we had gotten divorced as soon as we possibly could.

All in all? She was good in bed and totally awesome, but things simply just hadn't worked out. At least we were comfortable enough with each other that we could laugh it off, though, which was always a plus... And we knew each other well enough to guess that when the other party was staring down at you like you had shared your sex tapes with Dark Requiem, there was something wrong. Very wrong.

"Hamster." She articulated each syllable harshly, clearly. "You do remember that time when you came to me in my office, didn't you?" My lips curled up into a half-smile.

"Oh. That. The office sex was very good, actually, but what does that have to do with the memo the Overlord sent? Because honestly I'm not going to be banging Chicken Wings any time soon, much as we do spend time in each others' offices-"

"Hamster, are you even capable of being serious?" Her brows furrowed, and her voice had raised just a notch. Which wouldn't be saying a lot for most people, but with Azzy-baby I knew that it was high time I stopped screwing around and actually sat up and listened. My expression darkened, and I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes.

"You know very well that I am." Much as a retarded fuck I can be when I want to, I actually do know how and when to pull my pants up and stop spewing shit all over base. Missions, VIRUS business, anything related? It's common knowledge that I turn into a completely different person, and that the Hamster on the field isn't the same Hamster as in base.

I think it's needed though. People can't be srsbsns all the time, just like how Bullet can't always be bottom, how the Irish can't always be sober and how the toilet queue isn't always short when you really, really need to take a shit. And even if my random crap makes me look like a dumbass, my VIRUS record speaks for itself. FIREWALLS deleted, missions done quickly and cleanly, and the Capture division is one of the most active for a very good reason. I knew it, and if she hadn't realized that by now then there was something very, very wrong. Azrael cleared her throat.

A small smile, more acknowledging than snide, cropped up onto my face, but it wasn't returned. Her tone flat, her brows set into stern lines, she continued, "I was referring to the time when you came to me asking what you needed to do to get promoted."

Oh. That time. Nodding, I allowed her to finish what she had to say.

"Hamster. The Overlord sent you a memo asking you to duel with the other Capture Fighter, Winged Dancer, for a very good reason. You do know that the winner of this battle gets to take the spot for Combatant, don't you?"

"Yup," I replied, shooting her a sideways glance through the visor I wore in base. All the information I had needed had been within the PM the Overlord had sent Nephyl and me, telling us that we were to duke it out in an epic battle of manly proportions. "What about it?"

Azrael's eyes narrowed as she took the seat next to me, keeping a certain distance as she ran a hand through ebony locks.

"I'm honestly surprised that you aren't being more serious about this. Have you even been training?"

I snorted.

"Actually, I have. Did you think I wouldn't be?" A pang of red-hot annoyance crept up in my chest. Want to know what asking for help is like for me? I'll tell you what it is; it's like trying to get an incontinent patient to hold in a piss. It's like trying to get a fat kid (or a fluffy hamster) away from his cake. And yet I'd gone up to her and actually laid my shit out in front of her, telling her what I needed, and she was accusing me of... Sighing, I withdrew a spoon out of my inventory, and took another bite of the chocolatey morsel I had been eating earlier.

"Which is why I'm surprised that you haven't been training, Hamster," she quickly retorted, "I would have expected you to be in the training rooms all the time, fighting and kicking and using the simulators as much as you could. Instead I've been seeing you go into rooms with Mercurial Air and Cynical Ace-" I raised both my hands in defence.

"Whoa there. Whoa there. I can't deny that the three of us have definitely been-"

"Precisely, Hamster." Amethyst eyes stared into teal. A soft hand raised to stroke her chin, and she quirked a dark brow, "Didn't you tell me that you wanted this? Quite frankly, I was surprised that you approached me back then about your position. I'd always thought that you'd be the type who wanted to do things... Alone."

"That just kind of proves how much I wanted it, right?" I said, my eyes drifting towards the floor. I tapped my foot onto the ground, once, twice, three times, before tacking on, "I actually went to someone. Fluffy Hamster ruffled his fur and went rolling off to get some grain. You probably know me better than most, and yeah, asking for help... Really isn't my strong point. I want this," I smiled, and for a moment, I felt a look of wistful desire cross my eyes. "Yes... I actually do."

She nodded, and I knew that she understood. And I was completely prepared for the next words to come out of her mouth:

"So... What exactly have you been doing in terms of training?"

And just like clockwork, my trademark shit-eating grin was back on my lips. I took another nice, slow, delicious spoonful of cake, taking care to withdraw the utensil from my mouth slowly, calmly, like I was going to sexually violate it or something.

"Well, you did say that I was going behind closed doors a lot with Ace and Air. Shall we say that these random... Rendezvous have made me more... Flexible, for lack of a better word?" I quirked an eyebrow, and rubbed my hands together. "If you want you're welcome to come along and jo-" Before I could say any more, Azrael's melodious, shrill voice chimed in.

"Very funny, Hamster. What are you doing when it comes to practice-"

"Watching Disney movies." I said, suddenly drawing my mouth into a long, taut line. Trying not to laugh, I quipped, "Have you seen Tangled, by the way? Because I think Flynn Ri-"

"I'm not going to get a straight answer out of you, am I?"

Azrael clicked her tongue as she gave me a long, sharp glare, and let out a sigh. Shaking her head, she leaned backwards, closing her eyes. I snorted, scooting closer towards her with a half-smile on my face.

"Nope, straight answers really aren't the way I roll." I leaned over, and gave her a light punch in the shoulder, more of a gesture of camaraderie than an attack of any kind, really. "Though I can tell you this." I paused.

Commence a dramatic drum roll as Knife demonstrates that contrary to popular opinion, his soul was not surgically removed to make room for all that cake.

"Ehh..."If you haven't realized by now that I don't exactly do this talking-about-emotions thing too well, you clearly need to get yourself some brains. (I believe that's what the Body Shop is for, if you need a good recommendation.) Tapping my foot on the ground, I continued, "I do care about Cyberpolis. And VIRUS. This game means something to me. Something bigger than what you'd probably expect."

"Oh?"

"You don't know jack shit about my real life, do you?" A wry grin. She'd told me a little about herself, not much more than anyone else would have spewed, but I was more than just a little tight-lipped about the kid behind the screen. Sometimes I threw around useless bits of information to people I called my nearest and dearest, things that would give them the impression that they knew who I was, who Knife really is behind the boundaries of the internet, but Azzy...

She knew nothing, yet everything at the same time. She knew who I was, who I am, and perhaps she had some sort of weird flat-chested insight of who I would be, but at the same time she knew nothing at all.

Opening up to people is up there on the list of things that Knife doesn't do well, along with cleaning toilets and dissing the wonders of chocolate cake. Of which I took another bite, and licked my lips.

"Hmm. What can I say..." I frowned a little, despite the fact that a couldn't-care-less grin was etched onto my lips, "What can I say? This game's an escape for me. Like with everyone else. And you don't go fucking around with someone's escape, because it's then when they get defensive. Let me spell this out for you." I narrowed my eyes yet again.

"I want to be a fucking Combatant. I have ever since the reset happened and VIRUS wasn't able to stop the hackers, because I know that if I was at the forefront I'd be able to be out there doing as much as I can. I want to fucking lead Capture, because it's the Division I've been in since Day One and I've been running shit for it since Day One. Black Bird was never around," I snorted, "And I was organizing meetings and training people since I was a Minion, I'm doing it as a Fighter, and you know what my mission record's like. Now."

"Now?" she asked, but I continued to talk. Wow, was I on a roll of self-righteous bullshit.

"You know very well how much I hate narcissists. I hate people with superiority complexes, who think that they're on a pedestal above everyone else when most of us are fucking scum when it all boils down to it. But I'm going to spell this out for you now." I paused.

"I think I'm the best person for the job. I've learned a lot since I was an idiot Underling, and you know it." I was really tooting my own horn, and not even the kind of horn that I liked tooting, but I was trying to make a point and even if I had to sound like an arrogant prat I was willing to risk it.

"Since I got here, I've learned that you've got to put feelings aside when it comes to a job. That you've got to put your foot down and get shit done. That you've got to stop acting like an immature brat and grow up when it boils down to it. That you've got to," I laughed, thinking back to a time when I would willingly have thrown everything down the drain for a certain girl clad in white, "That you've got to separate work and your personal life, because if love or shit like that's the motivation behind why you're doing something, when those feelings are gone your drive poofs along with it. Most of all, though," I snorted, leaning forward.

"Most of all... I've learned that if you want something done well, get out there and take charge of it. You don't have to do it yourself, cause there are things that one man can't do alone." Like sex, for instance, but that comment was completely inappropriate for a Big Epic Speech like that. "But. If you're at the front, you get to show people what you want, where you want it, and I've got epic plans for this place. Training missions, team assortments, better measures for the VIRUS jails. And that's why I want to lead it: because I know that I can do this. I'm ready and I know it."

Another silence, and it was then when I knew that she understood. Her eyes met mine, and I flashed her a thumbs-up. In response, she nodded, her expression still stern.

In the strangest sense, she knew me almost as well as I knew myself. Funny, but ehh. Taking another spoonful of cake, I quipped:

"By the way. One last thing that I've learned in my time in VIRUS?" I stuck the little silver utensil into my mouth and pulling it out in slow motion, licking every last bit of chocolate icing off it as I maintained eye contact with the Combatant:

"Spooning, by the way, leads to forking. Just so you know." I smacked my lips.

With Azzy-baby's facepalm, the cake tasted just that little bit better.

Seven out of ten.
__________________________________________________________

To be quite honest, I'm pretty proud of Chicken Wings for getting to where she is now. Nephyl, otherwise known as Winged Dancer to the masses, that is. For a kid that became a Minion two days after I was appointed as a Fighter, she'd certainly climbed the ranks pretty damn quickly. How long had it been for her to get her next promotion, three months or something? I didn't even remember, but the fact was that the little kid that had used to stutter and blush at everything anyone else said was now a woman.

A pretty smokin' hot one at that, I'd like to add. I mean, just look at that VIRUS uniform of hers, man. Just look at that boob tube and them hips. I've had to pummel various Trainees for staring at her instead of concentrating on training, and if she wasn't like my little sister and still madly in love with a certain unnamed jackass, the two of us had pretty much come to the conclusion that we'd be doing... Stuff. Lots of stuff. A disturbing thought, but hey there. Aren't disturbing thoughts what I do best?

And as she stepped up to the podium and blue eyes stared into teal, she clenched her katana, steeled her gaze in preparation for the battle that was to come. Both fighters on opposite ends of the arena, pitted against each other in a battle for that coveted prize. She smirked, and I understood why she was there. Why she was up for this challenge.

VIRUS for her meant power. A high rank meant control. Control over her romance, her life, everything that had fallen into shambles in what must have seemed to her like a matter of seconds. A strong hold on at least something while everything else fell apart. I knew that look in her eyes; I'd been there before, clawed and screamed my way through times when nothing seemed to work.

And while I couldn't deny that her reasons were indeed valid, the organization came first. This was something that we had to do to prove ourselves to be the best, not just to each other but to the Overlord as well. I knew I could do it, I knew I would do it, but I just had to show the world that I had what I knew I had.

"May the best person win," she said as she started striding forward, and stuck out her hand. It was grabbed hold of in a strong handshake, and she maintained eye contact as she let go.

Both pairs of hands darted towards their respective weapons. Our everyday weapons, of course; it would have been a complete disaster if either party had decided to go ZIRUS on the other's ass. Neon-red words "Fighter Winged Dancer - Burglar" and "Fighter Fluffy Hamster - Assassin" flashed across the screen, and a whistle blew in the distance.

It had begun.

Nephyl immediately pulled her katana out of its sheath in a swift motion, her eyes narrowing as my lithe figure jumped out of the way, pulling out the axe and rapier at once with a flourish. A smirk surfaced on my lips. And for a split second both fighters stood there, eyes locked towards each others', staring each other down, daring the other to move-

The burglar attacked first. Blue eyes flashed with passion as she swung her weapon in a wild slash, activating her Haste skill while cold steel pierced open an abdomen's tanned skin. Blood gushed out of the wound, several drops spilling out onto the floor, and a hand shot towards the gash in instinct. Thin lips parted in surprise, and for a second, it looked as though they were about to speak-

But then my figure turned tail and ran.

Just like I'd done in almost every single round of my PvP, feet quickly set into motion, darting towards the other end of the arena at full speed. The battleground was dotted with various obstacles, rocks and walls and bales of hay, and a flash of blue could be seen darting behind them, running behind them, leading Nephyl on a wild-goose chase around the battlefield.

First a giant boulder, then a jagged rock. Nephyl still had Haste on, which meant that she was pretty much at my speed, or higher, so every time the distance between us closed even just a little there was no choice but to flee once again, to take her on a dance around the battlefield until she got worn out. Behind a stack of wood, and then a lump of sand, purple tailing teal the entire way. Bolts of colour weaved in and out of obstacles, dashing and racing and running and speeding, from the sand dune back to the boulder until blue managed to climb over behind a brick wall that stretched for at least two metres wide, grabbing hold of the top of it and scaling it in a swift motion. A perfect landing on the ground, and the wall had been conquered. A wall that she was too short to follow me over, as evidenced by the lone word that escaped her lips.

"Crap."

So she stood in front of it, knees bent, katana out, jaw steeled. Both parties ready for action, both parties ready to strike. My weapons were raised, fireax lifted high above my head, rapier pointed towards her. The wound she had dealt out earlier was taking a slow but steady toll; a flesh wound it might have been but it didn't mean that it didn't affect movements or stance. Slowly, my feet shuffled their way to the side of the wall, though not with some hesitation. She could have decided to go around the barricade, after all, could have decided to launch a surprise attack on me. My head spun around to make sure, and-

There she was, her Haste skill activated for the third time this battle, creeping towards her target in what was possibly the most deadly combination: on her toes, silently and quickly. It had been sheer luck that a check had been done. Whirling around to face her, my teeth gritted and knees bent. Once again eyes met eyes, and there was no hesitation before both parties lunged forward, ready to do battle.

The axe swung down towards her in a sweeping motion, and she ducked, dodging the clumsy blow. Again the axe was raised and then it came crashing down; this time, meeting cold steel as Nephyl's katana shot upwards to shield it from her. The clashing sound of metal against metal resonated throughout the arena as blows were exchanged, sparks flying as edge met edge in a duel to the death. My eyes narrowed, and she quirked an eyebrow.

"Someone spike your cake today?" Clang! "You're oddly quiet for once, Furball." And then our blades met again, both weapons hitting each other at full force. A smirk surfaced on my lips yet again as we drew back again, and then clashed, this time, my axe pushing against her katana, pushing it out of the way, leaving her open for a blow. Quickly, the edge of the axe darted towards where her neck was. It was her turn to smirk.

"Not so fast, Furball."

Drawing back as quickly as she could, she had only managed to pull backwards just in time for the blow to fall onto a less crucial area, creating a nice, deep gash that stretched from her shoulder blade to the middle of her right bicep. She winced a little in the pain, before thrusting her sword upwards-

And cold steel pierced through blue as she drove her katana straight through my chest, the end of it piercing through my back. Blood splattered over the battlefield as the fallen form of Fighter Fluffy Hamster dropped onto the ground, and the disbelieving murmuring of the crowd could be heard as she pulled the tapered blade out, soaking in crimson liquid. Sheathing her sword, she frowned.

"There's something fishy about this," Chicken Wings muttered to herself, her eyes scouring the audience for any signs of possible foul play. Man, was she high-strung or what? I could see tension from the rigidness of her shoulders, and the stiffness of her stance. A decidedly feminine voice resounded from where the audience sat.

"Hey there, Chicken Wings!" Her line of vision shot up towards the source of the voice, zooming into the face of the speaker. Her eyes widened in shock and horror as I continued to speak:

"Don't get your panties in a twist. Take them off instead!"

Oh how I love you, Genderbender potion. You have never failed to disappoint me.

Glancing down towards the battleground where my body double lay dead, I clicked my tongue, still in a rather effeminate form. To put it crudely, I was currently a pussy as opposed to being a dick. And damn was I a sexy piece of pussy, even if I were to say so myself- long blue hair held back by my usual headband, and large doe eyes behind my visor. Did I forget to mention my boobs? Because I swear, they were probably bigger than the rest of VIRUS' put together. I giggled.

The best thing about body doubles is that they take the shape of the form you were in when you created them, so you can do anything to yourself right after you've created your clone. Good old Knifeybot had done what he was supposed to do, and I would mourn his loss after the battle.

The battle that I was fully prepared to win.

Rising from where I had been sitting in the audience, I gave Bunny-Eater a high-five, and Lesbo a fistbump before I sauntered down towards the arena, leaping nimbly across the barrier that separated the battleground from the crowd.

Chicken Wings' jaw was still hanging open, and I heaved a heavy, girly, sigh.

"Oh my gawd," I drawled in my best Valley Girl accent. "Surely you didn't think that I'd be going down so easily, did you? And I'm sure you must have noticed that I, like, wasn't talking you know? So not me. Like, silence is so yesterday. And," I added, raising a single finger and waggling it, "How do you girls go around with boobs? They're like, so heavy. They're so hug-" I paused, casting her a scrutinizing look.

I swear, her mouth was so wide, you could have fit two dicks in there.

"Oops, I forgot. You don't have that problem. The boobs one, I mean. But I feel like, so odd without my balls. How do you chicks do it? And do you like, know how hard it is to fit boobs and hips in my VIRUS uniform? This was so not tailored for my badonkadonk. And like-"

Before I could finish my sentence, though, Chicken Wings was charging towards me at full speed, unsheathing her sword as she ran from the other side of the battlefield, eyes steeled in determination. Tossing my hair, I shot her the dirtiest look I could muster.

"Oh my God, you're such a whore. You wouldn't even let me finish my bitchfest!"

With that, I bent my knees in a battle stance, and pulled out my weapon, ready to strike.

Not just any weapon, though.

It had been the one I'd been training with for the past few weeks, the super-secret training that I hadn't even spoken to Azzy-baby about. A wondrous gift blessed to humanity by the gods, it was the greatest, most multi-faceted tool in the history of mankind.

It was better than cake. Better than sex. Better than cake sex.

It was a...

"Frying pan?"

Neph's eyes widened as she shot me an incredulous look, just before lunging forward, evidently in a vain attempt to try and skewer me with her fancy schmancy Japanese barbeque stick. Smacking her katana away with my new weapon in a swift blow, boobies shaking and ass wiggling, I shot her my best, most coy, diabetes-inducing smile.

"Never underestimate the power of cooking, darling. Hasn't yo momma ever taught you that?"
__________________________________________________________

"Get your hands off me, Hamster!" Raven shouted as I grabbed hold of her neck in a strangling chokehold. The three of us had been practicing frying-pan kung fu in my office for the past few weeks, and this had been the first time that I'd managed to disarm her. Pulling away from the younger girl, I bent down to pick up the kitchenware that I'd dropped, and waved it around, signalling that I wanted another go. She rolled her eyes, grabbing the katana that I'd bought her specifically to aid in my training.

One small step for a man, one giant leap for hamsterkind.

Metal met metal as our weapons clashed against each other, and she groaned as I continued our parrying with more energy that she'd probably ever seen me muster. Complete with happy bouncing and cheesy grin.

I must have been high or something, but whatever it was, it felt like awesome. Raven nodded, and Ivy let out a giggle from the other side of the room, playing the role of referee and peacemaker. Lesbo smirked.

"Hamster, that's enough, that's enough-" I shot her a death glare, and she rolled her eyes, "Okay, maybe not. That's good. You're doing good. Very good-"

"Come on, man, you like it. Both of you like it when I do this-" I swung around for extra power, causing a glass statue to fall off my desk and shatter. Ivy shrieked; Raven groaned, but I swung the frying pan around again before sending it crashing down towards her. "And this-" A porcelain bowl that had once contained chocolatey cakey goodness fell from the table as well, inciting another shriek from Ivy, louder this time, filled with childlike mirth and mischievous glee. Ah well, it had served its purpose. The other girl snorted, leaping away quickly and easily.

"You know this isn't the farthest you can go, Hamster. Thrust with everything that you've got!" Raven snarled, the blade of the katana sweeping towards me in a slashing motion. Again, I swung the pan in her direction, swatting the blade away, leaving her open for an attack.

Watching that one fight scene in Tangled on loop had really taught me well, I grinned as I sent the pan crashing down towards her at full speed, stopping just before I hit her head. Our eyes met, and we knew that the battle had been won.

Now all I had left to do was win the war.

Raven nodded with approval, and the two of us stepped away from each other, me still beaming from ear to ear like the moron that I was. Whoever could have thought that training in an office would be so much fun? But then again, when I had sat down with Lesbo to strategize, she had pointed out that throughout the PvP I had had the upper hand because I'd been in huge arenas where I could run, with plenty of hiding places that I could crawl into. This time, I was going to be in a small, enclosed arena with plenty of obstacles, so we'd agreed that I needed to learn a few lessons in close combat.

The training seemed to be paying off, all right. I'd actually defeated her twice in a row, but it would remain to be seen whether I could continue to do so. It was an achievement nevertheless, and I was feeling pretty good about myself for the moment. Too exhausted to talk, the two of us made a beeline for the other end of the room. There was a small stove and oven in my office that I used from time to time, and Raven had bribed me with food in the event that I managed to defeat her tonight. Shooting her a glance that read "Now make me a sammich," the Minion rolled her eyes and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge.

Leaning back against the wall, my eyes met Bunny Eater's. Apparently she and Raven were cousins in real life, and they met once every couple of months when they went back to China for family gatherings. Who would have thought that they'd both end up in VIRUS on their own accord, huh? Funny how this world worked. I was about to open my mouth to remark, but that was when Ivy produced a wok from her inventory, and walked up towards where Raven was standing. She chortled, whipping her head around to face me.

"Hamster, you're really developing an affinity for Asian hotpot, aren't you?"
__________________________________________________________

And so the battle continued, her lunging at me wildly with her katana and me using the frying pan to shield the blows from my face. The sound of metal clashing resonated through the arena, loud and clear, and I could feel the vibrations from the weapons slamming into each other ringing through my arm. The blade was sent darting towards my left, and I ducked; not quickly enough, though, and its edge brushed lightly against my cheek, causing it to leak out blood. I gasped, narrowing my eyes, channelling all my strength as I gripped hold of the pan tightly, and darted towards her at full speed. Swinging towards her torso, I screamed in the most high-pitched voice I could muster.

"How-" Clash! Her blade against the edge. "Dare-" Clang! Her blade against the middle. "You-" Wham! Her blade against the edge once more- "How dare you hurt my beautiful face? This is like, so not cool!" With that, I pulled the pan backwards, and sent it flying in the direction of her jaw, ready to knock her out with an uppercut.

It didn't connect.

Again she activated Haste, and her sword pushed my weapon out of the way. She couldn't possibly have that much MP, right? She was a Spa'ring-ian like me, for fuck's sake. The thought of running off once again to deplete her mana crossed my mind for a second, and then I narrowed my eyes, darting towards her again, swinging the pan around in a circular motion and whacking her straight in the chest, causing her to jerk back a little in recoil.

I steeled my jaw, taking the chance from when she was still in shock to send another couple of hard blows smashing into her chest, a weak spot because of the wounds she'd received on the last mission she'd been on. The mission where she had been injured so badly that she had had to PM me, begging for my help; I was the only person she trusted and I knew it all too well. At the same time, there were many things that she knew about me, including the way I thought and the way I fought... Or at least, she thought she knew them about me. Her eyes widened as I took another two leaps forward, and I couldn't help but allow a grin to surface on my lips.

She'd expected me to run away. It was exactly what I'd done in almost every round of my PvP, what I'd done in almost every single battle, and what I'd done throughout my fucking life. And in my self-delusion that I'd catch up to myself if I took one look at my problems and scurried away, I'd managed to fuck up almost everything and everyone that I'd ever cared for; I'd succeeded in ruining the few things I had left and destroying most of my chances at my own personal goals. But as she got back onto her feet and charged towards me with katana in hand, ready to strike, our eyes met. And it was then when she knew and I knew that something had changed.

I wasn't going to run away from my problems any more. And when I thrust the frying pan upwards and our weapons clanged against each other once again, the back end of the pan shielding what would have likely been a fatal blow to my chest, I knew that this was what was best for me. This was what I was going to have to do for now, in the future, heck, for the rest of eternity if some random shit did discover immortality and I lived to be a gazillion years old or something.

The sword shot to my left, and I bludgeoned it away with a single-handed strike; it danced over to my right, and I pushed it away from me with a quick swat. Again, she lunged forward, and I whacked her weapon away with the side of the pan. Having assets in the way was starting to get very irritating, I thought as I clicked my tongue, watching as my breasts bounced up and down. Perhaps investing in a bra would have been a good idea, or perhaps I should have used tape. Oh well, too late now. Activating my own Haste skill, I hammered the pan against her sword one last time for good measure as she attempted to strike me once again, taking a step forward in a thrust. With all the speed that I could muster, I whizzed my way one step to the right, pounced one step forward, appearing right behind my nemesis-

"Hey there," I said, in a voice that was much more masculine than the one I'd been using for the past while or so. Well what did you know? Giving my chest a quick glance, I smirked as Neph turned around, but not quickly enough to escape the sharp blow to her back that I gave her, grabbing hold of the handle with both my hands for extra strength. Watching as she fell to the ground in a stiff, almost comical notion, I couldn't help but jibe:

"You are so fucked. I don't have boobies any more! Now it's time to do this like a man!"

I was about to give her a sharp kick while she was still on the floor, but again she activated her Haste skill. Scrambling to her feet at top speed, Chicken Wings started towards me again, her high co-ordination and balance obviously doing her some good. Well, it was time to change that, I grinned. All I had to do was stick my left foot out-

And she paused. Narrowed her eyes, shot me a laugh.

"I saw that coming a mile away, Furball," she smirked as she pulled out her katana once again, swiping at me with a swift sweeping motion. Dancing backwards, I narrowed my eyes as they fell onto her torso. I now knew why my constant attacks at her chest wound weren't doing as much damage as I thought they would be; she had worn some light armour to reinforce the blow. Well, it was time to go for her head now, wasn't it? Pulling back my shoulder for extra strength, I was about to smack the pan into her face when she suddenly paused, sent her knee swinging towards me, and I felt a crunching, more than just slightly mind-numbing pain at my crotch-

"Ow. Ow. Double-fucking-ow. Why you little bitch-" I grimaced, though not without a little grin on my lips. Not that I hadn't deserved that coming, huh? After the number of people who I'd kicked in the nuts during the PvP and in other- Falling backwards in surprise, I felt the grip on my pan loosen and heard it crashing towards the ground. Shit. Shit. Shit. Karma was a bitch, so was Chicken Wings, and damn if I didn't feel the burn-

Yeah, right.

It did hurt; I'm not going to lie. Hell, it hurt like the hearts of Internet nerds all across the universe when the Arvixe servers went down. But this is coming from a kid that's been through more physical pain in the first twenty years of his life than most people will face in a lifetime. She had raised the sword upwards, looking like she was going to pierce it through my stomach. My pan lay a couple of feet to my right, and I had to make a split-second decision as her weapon came crashing down-

My right hand quickly shot out to clutch hold of the blade, and I clenched my teeth as I felt the sharp edge slice my palm open. Grimacing as its tip grazed against my stomach, I winced as I felt her put more on her weight onto the katana, attempting to skewer me like a shish kebab, crimson liquid dripping from the weapon bit by bit. Fancy Japanese barbecue stick was fancy and all, but I didn't exactly fancy being the next item on the menu, if you get my drift. She smiled, a mixed look of surprise and joy crossing her eyes.

"I... I've won," she said matter-of-factly. "It's over, Cal. Surrender now? I don't want to have to kill you-"

I snorted, my grip on her katana tightening despite the sharp sting of the wound.

"Yeah right. As if."

Sticking my left hand into my pocket, I grabbed hold of a pair of balls. Not that kind of balls. Get your minds out of the gutter, children, though considering the person who I borrowed these from dick and nuts might be oddly relevant. I pulled out the smoke bombs that I had stolen off TCH TSK, and tossed them lightly behind her, smirking as they hit the floor and exploded into grey clouds of smoke.

For the record, I'd also jacked a couple of sex toys off him, and all of his clothes, so if you see a certain Fighter sneaking around base in only a baby pink face towel you know exactly who to blame. But my diversion worked; it had bought me more time, as evident by the coughing and hacking sounds emitting from Chicken Wings, and the fact that her grip on her weapon was no longer as tight. Pushing her blade away with my bloodstained hand, an easier task than I thought it would be because of the arm wound my body double had dealt her earlier, I grimaced at the intensity of the pain coursing through me. I would have to deal. Smoke, ash and dust flew across the arena, and I mentally thanked myself for the day that I'd decided that my VIRUS uniform needed to have a visor for times like these. Using my not-exactly X-ray vision, I managed to vaguely make out where my pan lay, and grabbed hold of it with my left hand, before scrambling to my feet and uncorking a potion that I'd bought from Ether.

"Thank fuck for friendship," I muttered as I gulped the contents down. Well, if you could call my relationship with Ethie-baby a friendship, anyway, but I liked the guy, and we got along decently. And he'd agreed to sell me some custom potions for an okay price. One of which was now running down my throat- my HP bar was slowly refilling, and even though the wound on my hand wasn't fully recovered I was ready to go.  In the midst of the slowly subsiding smoke, I could see where Neph was, having sprung back from her coughing fit, and she was glancing around, searching for me. Being the kind charitable person I am, though, I decided to go to her. It would be a surprise. Hey hey, everyone likes surprises! Quietly, I crept towards where she was, and swung the frying pan around with my good hand before sending it flying towards her back. Before it could make contact with her, though, she whirled around, a small smile on her lips.

"Felt your presence there, Cal," she said, my real name slipping from her mouth once again as she thrust the blade towards my abdomen. Blocking the blow with the middle of the pan, I pushed her sword aside with a swift movement of my lower arm, knocking it as far away from me as I could before attempting to clobber her from the side of her head. Far away wasn't far enough, though, and her sword danced in to stop my attack before I could even get close to hitting her. I steeled my jaw.

Tiring her out was an option. Continuing this chase was another. But as my mind was darting from place to place, wondering what the hell I could do, her katana lashed out again, too quick for me to step away. Using my right arm to block the blow, the weapon slashed my bicep, and blood gushed out of the wound with insane gusto. Gnashing my front teeth against my lip to stop me from yelling, I sent the pan crashing towards her once again, aiming to whack her on the head with its tougher edges, only for the katana to push it out of the way. I winced.

Looked like I would have to wear her out before the blood loss got to me, or to get her blade out of the way, because I had to end this battle by getting to her head. Somewhere. Somehow, literally... Or metaphorically, perhaps? Mind games were an option, I mused to myself as I lifted my pan to my neck, blocking a blow that she had evidently aimed to slice my throat. Mind games were definitely an-

No. This was someone I would be working with for ages to come, and for fuck's sake... For fuck's sake, I could bring her love life up to her and use it to screw with her mind, but you couldn't establish a working relationship based on mindfuckery and dirty tricks. It was a tactic I'd use against FIREWALL, but damn not on someone who you needed to ensure could stay strong for the next few ERAs to come.

She was an asset to VIRUS, as was I. And if one of us reached the Combatant rank by completely breaking the other down, the organization wouldn't have gained a damn thing. We all had a common goal, and the reason I was fighting for it was because I believed that I'd be better up there than she would be, not because I wanted the rank for the hell of getting it. That, and she was a friend: I could come up with mind games but I wasn't willing to play them if her mental stability was at stake. I would have to force her sword away, somehow. It wasn't impossible. I slammed the side of the pan against her katana once more as she sent it lunging in from the right, my arm darting across my chest so my weapon could shield the blow.

Thank fuck I no longer had boobies to get in the way. Again, metal met metal as we parried, her pushing forward and me stepping back to defend. Sword met pan's centre as she went for my arm, sword met pan's side as she went for my leg. As she withdrew her weapon slightly in preparation for the next blow, I tried to dart forward to slam the centre of the pan against her head, but yet again Nephyl lifted her sword to block the blow, her two-handed grip overpowering my one-handed one by far as she pushed my pan back, and sent me stumbling backwards. Quickly regaining my balance, I glanced around me, and gulped.

She'd managed to pin me into a corner of the arena, between the circular barrier that separated us from the audience and a brick wall that stuck out from the middle of it.

By now, the smoke had completely subsided, and her figure came closer and closer towards me. I'd never thought that I'd have described Neph as looming, not in any universe, but if you were in my place, the lighting meant that she was practically casting a shadow over me as she pulled out her katana once again, her arm twitching slightly from the wounds that I'd given her earlier on. Her eyes met mine, and I shot her a sad smile.

"You're good, I have to admit," I said, laughing. The blade of her weapon darted towards my abdomen once again, and I blocked it with the pan. There was only so much more shielding I could do, though, before I ran out of steam. "You're good. Damn, you're fuckin' amazing..."

A smirk.

"But not good enough."

It was a gargantuan effort, but I'd somehow managed to dig my right hand into my inventory. Ignoring the sharp throbbing that pulsed through my tendons and the dripping blood, I pulled out the very first item on the list.

Chocolate cake, of course.

What else would appear at the forefront of my inventory?

Her jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. Nevertheless, she kept a firm grip on her weapon: she had been prepared for insanity, of course, but not the fact that my high tolerance to pain meant that I could still muster enough energy to pull my arm backwards, stick out my tongue, and send the confectionery flying into the right side of her face. Dropping my arm as soon as I was done, I winced at the sheer intensity of the throbbing, before allowing myself a second to inwardly gloat at the fact that my plan had worked. Get her overconfident, disorient her with something she wouldn't see coming, and then bring it all crashing down.

Besides, come on. Bloodstained cake. That sounded like a bad protection name or something. Maybe if I ever got bored of Fluffy Hamster, I could change mine to that- it definitely sounded infinitely more badass. Swinging the pan towards her head once more, I whacked her in the jaw using the centre of the weapon, taking the chance to get her injured while I could. Now it was her turn to stumble back in shock, and mine to dart forward. My grip around the pan tightened as the sword lunged towards me once again, this time aiming for my chest. But it was a blind dash; one done in frustration, and the blade met my frying pan in the crevice between the handle and the round-panny-bit-

Momentum dictated that when I pushed her katana aside, it would follow the motion of the pan because it had been trapped, leaving her open for attack. Momentum also meant that she wasn't quick enough to bring her katana back to dodge the swift blow from the frying pan.

The swift blow that hit her squarely on the side of the head, completely knocking her out, and caused her body to collapse onto the ground.

One...

Two...

Three...

I waited a few seconds to make sure that she wasn't trying anything funny. Then again, there wasn't much that you could do against a whack on the head with a hard object. A childlike, somewhat gleeful grin made its way onto my face as I blinked once. Blinked twice.

And then I fell to my knees, panting and heaving, gritting my teeth. There was no dramatic background music, no victory fanfare; the crowd was clapping and cheering, sure, and maybe Bunny Eater was screaming "Hamsterbutt!" at the top of her voice, squealing with glee. But at that moment only a few things were going through my head:

One, that I was Combatant of Capture, which meant that I could finally get shit moving the way I wanted it to.

Two, that people should never underestimate the power of Asian cooking, Disney movies, friendship, and cake, because those things? Yeah? They got you places, all right. Including the highest ranks of a secret organization.

Three:

I really, really needed to go to the infirmary. Like. Now.