“Have you got a plan?”
 
“Do I not always have a plan?”
 
“You [b]never[/b] have a plan!”
 
“An ingenious tactic on my part. I have never had a plan fail before.”
 
“That is, beyond doubt, the worst excuse I have ever heard.”
 
“Malta, 2006.”
 
“Hey, they let me go, didn’t they?”
 
“That doesn’t mean it was-“
 
Alistair would have continued if it had not been for the great streak of fire and ash which cascaded across the sky and instantly caught his attention. It lit the desert up as bright as the midday sun and bathed the two Asylums in a warm orange glow, hot enough to feel the glare even from this distance. The two members of the Broken Pendulum stood there, awestruck by the recent spectacle, and wondered what exactly had caused such an amazing display. The blaze tore its way up into the night sky and then back down again, its source clearly within the larger congregation of Asylums and the much feared kings which battled with them. Vail shielded her eyes with one of her gauntlets, her eyes not used to such a sudden bright light, only to be handed a pair of sunglasses from the suited man beside her. Alistair smiled, another pair of sunglasses falling out from his sleeve which he swiftly put on.
 
“Why aren’t we over there fighting yet?” Vail asked, now wearing her own pair of sunglasses. The pillar of fire had ceased now but cinders still filled the air and illuminated the scene before them. It looked like very potent alchemy and both Asylums silently agreed to approach the situation cautiously. Vail still cracked her knuckles, eager to get into the fight. 
 
“Something of an amusing story, actually. You thought it’d be a good idea to try and break the golem we were fighting in two with a single punch. You succeeded, as you so often do, but a fragment broke off from its skull and struck you on the head with a little more force than would have been healthy. You’ve been unconscious for the past four and a half minutes. I had to both dig you out from the rubble and stop the bleeding.”
 
“…you are welcome,” he added.
 
Vail’s hand instinctively went to the side of her head. She had not noticed until now but the right side did ache, presumably where she had been hit. She felt no blood but quickly realised she was still wearing her mechanical gauntlets. Vail brought the hand in front of her face, peering over the top of her sunglasses. The metal fingertips were stained a little red, rubbed off from the dried blood which matted her hair. There was no open wound though, thankfully. Alistair always had been good at patching her up when she needed it and Vail was surprised he had not changed his official alchemy specialisation to medical support. “Really? Well, it’s dead now, right?”
 
Alistair nodded in response. “I think we should go and help the others. They might need us.”
 
“Damn right we should help,” said Vail, grabbing Alistair by the arm and tugging him along with her.
 
The suited Asylum complied, keeping up with his companion’s footsteps as best as he could. When the situation seemed to turn dire and one of the other Asylums tried to tear the leader of the Kings down with melee weaponry, their cautious walk turned into a alchemically powered sprint. Alistair and Vail both powered across the desert floor, kicking up dust behind them. Their arms were still locked together and their sights were set firmly on the kings in front of them as they closed the gap almost instantly.
 
“Oh,” Alistair gasped. “I have a plan.”
 
[center][b]xXx[/b][/center]
 
With the torrent of cinders and smoke passed, Alistair stepped forward towards Gadrael. The Broken Pendulum arrived as quickly as their alchemy would carry them, now arriving only seconds since the incendiary attack had taken place. They met surprisingly little resistance, the kings that remained being dealt with by the other alchemists, and those that did try to stop them were swiftly met with the sharp taste of an iron gauntlet forced down their throat. Vail currently had a metal hand clasped around a king’s neck and the other fist pummelling into his stomach.
 
Alistair stood before Gadrael. He looked confident but Alistair could not say he felt that way. Gadrael was not like the other kings that battled with the group and Alistair was rather sure that was not a good thing. Gadrael’s skill with alchemy had already been proven with the great torrent of fire that he had created and alchemical energy literally oozed off of him. Alistair was not entirely confident that he could avoid an attack if the king tried it a second time. With the tip of his umbrella dug into the sand and his hands resting on the handle, the pink-suited Asylum nodded politely to Gadrael. He held a hand out to shake but doubted the king would accept the gesture. After all, Seira had impaled the man with her claws only seconds prior.
 
Still, Alistair smiled and cleared his throat, trying to look as presentable as he possibly could. “I think we could do without scorched bones and torn flesh, could we not? We are sensible people after all,” he said.
 
As Alistair spoke, Vail was busy assisting the other Asylums. She grabbed, punched and threw any king that she could get her hands on. Wielding Alistair's chain she fought tooth and nail through the kings. She took a beating but with the help of the other Asylums Vail managed to stave off any crippling injuries. Her goals were not entirely violent though, because she spoke to every Asylum that she passed to deliver them a message.
 
“Ready your heavy hitting alchemy, kids. We’re going nuclear on the big one!”
 
“…and I am sure that we can come to some to some resolution that does not involve quite so much bloodshed. First though, let me introduce myself. I am Alistair Julius Delacour, A.M.R.O. Asylum, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You seem to be the leader figure of this motley crew of kings and so I hope that we might discuss our options before this goes any further. Might I know your name?”
 
"Doesn't involve bloodshed?" The King scoffed, an expression of disgust on his face. "Your kind......you dare say this to me, when it is your kind that took everything from me?" Gadrael's voice had taken a more sinister tone, as if it were a dialogue with a demon.
 
Alistair hid a smile. [I]Why do the villains never answer your questions the first time?[/I] "I know a little of your organisation," he said. "You are part of the Forsaken Kings, yes? Some of the reports I've read are truly heartbreaking, both in the monstrosities you've caused and the monstrosities that drove you to them. For that I will formally apologise but your loses do not give you the right to take from others, especially when your anger is with the organisation and not the individual. We as individuals, with a few small exceptions, have done nothing to you or your fellow alchemists, and in turn you have done nothing to us. Many of us are still alive and can recover with proper medical treatment. We could easily go our separate ways right now, unharmed."
 
"We do not need to fight. I’m sure that we can come to some kind of compromise," he suggested, looking up at Gadrael.
 
"Where was this sense of compromise when my wife was hacked into pieces? You bastards are what threw my child to the hounds." As he spoke his clench loosened around the blade, the steel claymore eventually dropping to the floor, licking the ground as the King stood unarmed. 
 
"My name is Gadrael, I am one of the four of the Council of Kings. I am the manifestation of a rogue's despair. Can you hear it? Hear our frustration... feel our anguish!" His palm now stretched open, revealing a small alchemic sigil painted on it. The seal radiated energy, glowing in an eerie azure. 
 
"Fuck you and fuck your masters!" the King screamed, capitalizing on the fact that Alistair's proximity annulled any chances of evasion. Gadrael’s fist planted itself onto the Asylum's chest, the sigil instantly imprinting itself on Alistair and encasing his body in a giant pillar of ice. Alistair never even attempted to flee, holding his stance firmly as ice covered him, chilling him to the bone and rooting him in place.
 
‘Now!’ Alistair called out, a telepathic message to the other Asylums.
 
He wished he could help in some capacity, firing all he had at Gadrael with all of the other Asylums, but he had completed his primary goal; buy time. He had half-expected Gadrael to do something far worse than trap him, especially when he heard him announce himself as one of the Council of Kings, some of the strongest rogue alchemists alive. Instead, Alistair did the only thing he could do. He tried to survive. With alchemy he warmed his blood, raised his heart-rate, and tried to keep his body temperature stable. He would wait here, conserving energy and keeping his core temperature high, and hope that the other Asylums could break him out before he tired.
 
Through the cocoon of ice, however distorted it was, he could see the events unfold. It helped keep his mind off of the ice which bit at his skin and tore away his constitution, giving him the drive to focus on resisting Gadrael's alchemy for a little bit longer.
 
The moment Alistair had called out his telepathic message, Vail made her move. Gripping one end of the metal chain Alistair had given her moments earlier she hurled the rest over Gadrael's shoulder. Dragging her foot in a circular motion and then backwards the thrown end of the chain moved with it, silver wrapping itself around Gadrael and binding his arms to his torso, only for the end to fly back and land at Vail's foot. She picked it up, pulling both ends and tightening the bind.
 
Gadrael resisted, tugging and pulling at the chains that bound him, but Vail had expected it. She pulled firmly, her muscles forced to work ten times harder than they should be able to because of her alchemy, and dragged Gadrael closer to her. Wrapping the chains around her gauntlets, Vail's grip was strengthened still. When she pulled Gadrael within arm’s reach, Vail threw a punch at the bound Gadrael, striking him in the side of the head as hard as she could. She kicked, striking the back of his leg at his popliteal, and then brought a single punch down on the back of his shin. There was a sickening crack, enough to make even Vail cringe. 
 
Vail was about to hurl an insult at him, something about get revenge for what he had done to Alistair, but the words caught in her throat when she saw a great flaming bird emerge from one of the Asylums, rising into the sky and sweeping down to strike Gadrael. Whatever pyrotechnics the king had produced earlier, this dwarfed it by comparison. ",,,oh boy."
 
She dropped the chains and ran.