Mithias looked upon the bloody mess that was his brother's corporeal form. It contained his heart, and for all intents and purposes *was* him. He'd have a lot of healing to go yet, but it was a start. The faintest flicker of a smile came to Mithias' face. "Thank you, Martin. I wish that there were more time to convey my feelings toward your decision, but there are extremely pressing matters at hand." He tilted his head. "Air strike?" Mithias brought up a small computer, control pad that was strapped to his arm. He checked both the Terebithia and Nightingale as sources. "Terebithia is armed and ready for war, but she has no reason to fire here, nor is she within range of us... I believe. Nightingale's radar finds only clear skies..." He entered the command to return the fighter jet to them. "I highly doubt Stein had any kind of death-weapon launched into orbit in the last two decades, yet, if you say this place is going to be bombed, then we must leave while we still have time.' He lowered his arm and looked off toward where Rhyss and Onikage would be. "When the jet arrives, Martin, get in. I will join you promptly, and we'll leave thousands of miles behind us." Mithias looked strained between several tough decisions. "I can't wait. I am going to help Rhyss." And he was gone.

For whatever reason, Rhyss' summoned backup and equipment were not coming. Instead he could see in the distance the flash of a blade against a swiftly approaching back shadow.