Bagged takeout in hand, Greg was in the process of retracing his steps back to his family's apartment. About a third of the way through, he chanced to look up at the sky. Though of course his ability to judge the time wasn't perfect (anything, though, was better than his ability to judge the age of others), he was fairly sure that it was about five-thirty. The sun was just starting to hide behind the city buildings, playing a game of peek-a-boo with him as he walked past the obstructing structures. While some families preferred eating at this earlier hour, he knew that his father would want some to to himself to catch up on daily events after work. Dinner usually occurred anywhere from six to half past six, so Greg gauged himself to be a little early. With this in mind, he decided to take the longer way home; the food would have to be reheated anyway after the walk, so there was no harm in it.

Fifteen minutes later he was strolling by a lengthy brown fence when he heard voices on the other side, one male and one female, obviously not trying to remain quiet. Usually this playground was deserted this time of day, and Greg guessed by the others' disregard for secrecy that they knew it too. Though normally not one to pry, he judged the voices to belong to adults, and couldn't help but wonder if anything unusual was taking place, so he sidled up to the edge of the fence.

Wrong again. Not adults, but a boy and girl about his age; actually he recognized them from school. “What a coincidence,” he breathed. Aiko and...Ken-something. If he interfered he'd have to avoid addressing him. As he watched discretely, it appeared that Aiko was about to do something, if her warm-ups were any indication. He wondered exactly what, but decided he had better show himself before they discovered him—he wasn't the most covert at the moment, and it was perfectly reasonable for a couple who thought themselves alone to be very upset at someone spying on them. He rounded the corner of the fence and gave a short wave with his free hand. “Hey there! Am I interrupting something?”

-=-=-

A minute passed before any noise at all could be heard beyond the huge, heavy doors. Rough, metallic footsteps resounded from within, growing in intensity as they approached the entrance. The door shifted somewhat as it was gripped from the other side, was silent for a brief moment, and then uttered a protesting creak as it was wrenched open with great force.

Inside, a dozen feet from Fantasy Sky Breaker, stood Quicksilver Seraph. Cast from behind by torchlight and illuminated in front by the afternoon sunlight, she herself radiated beauty and serenity. She was unarmed, with fingers clasped across her waist. Though her bow was nowhere to be seen, her eyes shone with the same sort of azure energy that had characterized the corkscrew arrow that discombobulated the negative. She seemed regal, which was appropriate for the fortress she inhabited. Smiling warmly, she gestured for Sonata and Breaker to come inside.

Once they had crossed the threshold, Ironclad released the door and sauntered, clanking with each step, to Seraph's side. As the door slammed shut thunderously, it became obvious that despite the enormous contrast between Ironclad and Seraph -friendly warmth versus disdainful cold, flesh versus metal, blue and purple versus black and orange- the two were rather close. The metal warrior wiped a trace of molten fluid from his cheek and began brusquely, “You really need us to tell you which way northeast is?”

Seraph sighed and weighed in. “What my colleague is trying to say is, how can we help you? I don't believe we've met. My name is Quicksilver Seraph, and this is Ironclad. You may know him.” A few hundred feet behind them and to the right, Midwinter's Envoy suddenly emerged from an alcove, flask in hand. He watched from afar.