It would appear that Amalie and Isaak would be joined by one other member of the guild as they made their way into the city, a woman that the commander recognized. Kessicia, one of the first few to join the guild when it initially opened under the order of the Magic Council. However since that time, the women hadn't really crossed paths but that didn't mean Amalie wasn't curious to see what she was capable of. Especially after catching a glimpse of the magic she had cast earlier in the form of some type of prayer. Amalie had wondered if somehow their  magic overlapped in some way, the woman and Anima rather than Amalie. After all, that part of Amalie's magic wasn't really hers. It seemed she would get her chance to observe the woman during the mission at least, granted that she was not too distracted.

As Amalie heard her message in her mind, she found herself even more intrigued albeit slightly concerned. I thought you guarded me against such things Anima, She would ask, speaking directly to the Nephilim. From what he had explained to her, his bindings on her emotions meant he would also ward her mind, thus preventing anything from getting in, and seeing what lurked there. A comforting aspect, because by no means did she want anyone roaming around in her head, reading her secrets. Anima chuckled, I allowed it to pass, It is only a message Amalie, not a malevolent invasion, worry not. No one is going to roaming the depths of your mind, not whilst I'm here. She relaxed slightly, eased by his reassurance. Amalie looked at the woman and offered her a nod to acknowledge her accompaniment.

After arriving at the house, Amalie gave out her orders to the pair, both of which seemed adequately ready to oblige, glancing down briefly at the whip the dark-skinned woman manifested. Following which she would begin her countdown, as she reached one, she spun around the corner of the doorway. As the group rushed in, the room would fall into a wild commotion, both her accomplices not wasting a single second in taking down their targets. Amalie strode forward confidently barking her next magical command; "Shards." Instantly, shards of broken glass would appear around her, hovering in the air like bees. With a flick of her wrist, the glass shot forward towards two of the mages, a man and a woman. As the woman raised a gun to point at Amalie, some of the glass would gather around her hand like a swarm, slicing away at her fingers and causing her to drop the weapon. More shards would fly into their legs, causing them both to buckle the ground with agonized cries as the glass buried deep into their flesh. The magic would crawl up her throat once more as she cast her next spell.  "Frost." the temperature in the room suddenly dropped, the floors suddenly coating in ice and frost, snow began to billow around the room. Whilst this cold would leave Amalie and her fellow Dies Irae members unaffected, each of the dark mages that had been caught would become completely immobilized by the ice magic, unable to move. Amalie stepped over to her two captives, reaching down, she took their weapons, throwing them across the room and out of their reach. She straightened up once more, looking over to review Kessicia's and Isaak's work. Kessicia had pinned one man down with excellent skill and efficiently, whilst Isaak had used his might to knock the other two men out completely. Amalie wasn't exactly one for complements, Commander or not, but it seemed appropriate to offer some kind of statement of approval.  "Good."

She looked back at the man and woman beneath her, eyeing them with a cold gaze. These were the people that did this to the island, to its people. There was a flicker of rage behind her eyes before it simmered away. She had to stay calm, keep her control. Shards began to appear above the dark mages, hovering over them almost playfully. Threatening to rain down on them, she knew she didn't have to tell the mages what they would do if they tried to fight back, the sharp edges of the glass did that for her. "Now then," She began, kneeling down next to the man she had incapacitated. She took a moment to consider her options, trying to figure out the best way to make them talk. The best and only way she could think of was fear and violence. Granted this wasn't a guess for her, nor was it her first time taking part in interrogation, she had seen many during her time at The Company.  Wyatt and Charle's had questioned so many people, they liked information and no matter what they always got it. Especially Charles, he had a knack for getting people to talk, him and his sadistic nature could break anyone. She reached into her belt, grabbing the hilt of her gun. She unsheathed her Goldbrand, bringing it up the man's face. She pushed the end of the weapon into his forehead, "We have a few questions that you're kindly going to answer for us. You see, we know what you've done to Kenrojima. The way you decided to claim it for your own, and the way you desecrated it with your filthy agendas. Something we have come to undo." She pushed the gun further into the flesh of his forehead.  

"Oh yeah, and who the fuck are you guys? Rune Knights? What you gonna do arrest us? Yeah right, we've dealt with your kind before, you won't leave this island alive." Amalie cocked her head, a smirk befalling her lips. "Oh no, we're not knights, and we're not here to arrest you. By the time the day is done, you'll wish the Rune Knights were here to arrest you. Rather, we  are Dies Irae, and we have come to purge your foul existence from this world... but first," Her tone which had been laced with venom would change, suddenly airy and playful, "Where are you keeping the civilians?" Their intel told them there were several pockets of the island where the civilians were being stored, enslaved under the dark mages, kept alive to fulfill any wishes they had. What they needed to know were the exact locations, they hadn't been able to learn that at this point. The dark mage laughed, "And why would we tell you, soon enough our companions will find you, and then you'll all be done. Not before some punishment though, I wouldn't mind taking a go at you bitch, and your tanned little friend there too. Make you beg for mercy, you'll all suffer for this. Even the boy, he's got a pretty face, and we've certainly got a few sodomites that wouldn't mind taking a go-"

BOOM!

The man roared in agony, the barrel of the gun no longer pressed into his forehead before hovering over his crotch, smoke rising from the edges the barrel. It had only been a stun shot, but the force of the bullet would have still been excruciatingly painful, like being hit between his legs at full force with a sledgehammer. Amalie sighed, straightening up, "Does anyone else fancy a broken cock?" She asked casually, before moving over to Kessicia's captive who looked especially unnerved by the ordeal, "Or is someone ready to talk?" Reaching down, she ran the barrel over the man's cheek teasingly, "These thorns look terribly painful, you know I wonder, how tight these binds would have to be, to tear off a limb completely. Shall we see?" She purred, glancing up at Kessicia to meet her gaze for a moment as though about to order her to do so. "The Churches!" The man yelped, Amalie grinned at the other woman, before glancing down. The girl who Amalie had trapped piped up, "Shut up Darren!" Despite her yell, he would continue.

"Churches...schools...communal building, anywhere we can shut in a lot of people without needing too many of our people looking over them. Please, please let me go, I don't want to die." He whimpering, sniveling as Amalie ran her gun over his face once more. She stood up, this was good, they had got what they wanted, however, they would still need to confirm the information was true. She looked down at her gun, wondering what to do next. She knew it was their purpose to kill the dark mages, they were sinners. But like this, it still carried an element of cruelty to it, killing them in cold blood. "Isaak, go fetch some more of our men, bring them here. They can ...handle  these mages, whilst we search for the Civilians." She ordered, looking up at him with a stoic gaze. They had to die, she knew that, but even so, her heart was fully prepared to be the one to do it. Not now at least.

---

The electrocution was unpleasant, but nothing that would damage her too badly. The paralysis didn't completely take hold, though it did give her pause and made her slow since her body's impulses were scrambled. This band might be strong, but she could tell they were just low ranking members of the dark guild here, high on their destruction and oppression. As Nat came to her aid and disrupted her attacker's spell, her face lit up in a way it had never done in battle before. Then again, no one had gifted her cherry cheesecake in the middle of a battle, either. Wasting no time, she gobbled it up with rosy cheeks, though once it was done, her battle-hardened expression with those sharp, dangerous eyes returned. "Thank you, Nathaniel," Sivvy called over the sounds of conflict, next shooting a glance at the metal structure to check on the survivors. She thought she'd noticed Masha arriving earlier, but hadn't had time to make sure. The red-head was protecting the shelter and the people. That was a big help, and thankfully there didn't seem to be anyone mounting an ambush.

Now that she could focus more on the task at hand, she turned her cold gaze on the leader and his two side-kicks that remained. This was where most would issue a threat or taunt, exchanging some aggressive talk before the violence continued and a victor was decided. Sivvy, however, was not much for idle chatter. These dark mages needed to die and she would kill them. Just as the lightning mage opened his mouth to inhale, looking to start some bragging or other banter, the ambassador launched a large spike from her hand right into his mouth. It savagely sliced through and protruded out the back of his head, though his teeth and altered the angle enough that his spine was missed and his death was not immediate. Though he gurgled with shock and pain, he could still fight. It became clear that the two with him actually acted as batteries, as he needed to touch them to siphon some power to whip at her, though he was smart enough to hesitate. With that metal in his mouth, he'd surely electrocute himself as well as her. That second of hesitation was all it took. The clone was upon him, spinning in the air and kicking the spike she'd shot in his mouth. As he arced backward into the dirt, she landed on the spike and further stamped it into the dirt, effectively anchoring him there. As his dark eyes gazed wide at her with unspoken pleads for mercy and intense fear, she proceeded to step on his throat and launch another spike through his neck, this time brutally finishing the job.

As she turned her attention to the other two, they slowly backed away. "We didn't think Dies Irae would be like...like this!" one of them breathed, and even though it looked as if they'd run, they didn't. Now that she looked at them she noted they were twins, nearly identical except for which side in which they parted their hair. One stood on each side of her, trying not to look at the dead man she still stood on. They began to glow until they were simply silhouettes of yellow light that crackled with lightning. Their hands were outstretched toward each other, energy sparking between them to form a barrier around her. Judging by the rising of power levels, this was meant to be a finishing move. "I'll see you in hell, brother!" the formerly silent twin called, the two starting to violently vibrate and scream. So this was a suicidal attack. Admittedly, the amount of strength she sensed was enough to damage her and if such a thing happened so early into this mission of cleansing the island of evil it could spell disaster.

Requipping a large, two-headed ax on a chain, Sivvy squeezed the handle and the clockface between the blades flashed blue and spun. Both siblings were frozen in time for a moment, and a moment was all she needed. Gripping the chain, she let go of the handle and begun to spin the weapon, inching out more and more chain until it was sweeping a wide area. Once the range was wide enough, the two detonating brothers were cleaved in half. Four wet plops later, the threat was neutralized.

Now that all the haggard villagers were safely in their shelter and there were no enemies, Sivvy approached Masha. "Thank you for your assistance. We need to start moving inland," she spoke decisively, mapping out their next move. "If we can find out where most of these dark mages are gathered, we can cripple their forces before they become too organized," she mused, just as Nathaniel showed up with a prisoner. "Wonderful," she praised him, taking the man from her mentee. There was no malice in her face, though she did seem to immediately have a plan to get info out of him. Taking him off far enough so that the people in the metal structure wouldn't hear, Sivvy wasted no time interrogating the dark mage by using him as a pin cushion for her spikes and needles. With every evasive answer or refusal, he found another sharp piece of metal very, very slowly being pushed through his skin, muscles, and bones. It was clear she had no qualms about his screams or perhaps more terrifying, she didn't feel anything about the atrocities she was doing to him. She wanted information and felt no remorse tormenting it out of him. No doubt she'd kill him if he didn't talk. He revealed the answers to her, and though he thought he'd won mercy, she simply thanked him and then relieved him of his head. A quick death was the only mercy Sivvy knew.

Returning to the others, she used a cloth from her bag to wipe her hands clean of blood before it could get sticky. "I've confirmed my suspicions," she informed Nathaniel and Masha, her normally stoic face a tiny bit displeased. "These villagers fear you, their saviors, because of me. While I have not hurt them, someone who looks exactly like me did. I don't have time to explain the situation but just know that should we get separated at any time you'll need to ask me a question so I can confirm my identity." The ambassador turned thoughtful for a few moments, then nodded. "Ask me, 'What snack can nearly drown you in apple water?' and I'll respond with 'spicy fruit'. Got it?" The pinkette hardly waited for a response before she cracked on. "Next, my interrogation revealed there are several ambush cells dotted throughout the island waiting for us, but the bulk of the dark mage numbers still remain in the heart of the island, where their guild master has made his throne. We need to move quickly toward the heart, while also killing the enemy cells and building shelters for any survivors we find. Any questions you may have will have to be asked as we move on. With any luck, we'll eventually join back up with Johann, Amalie, and the rest of our guildmates," the woman commanded, turning and leading the way inland.

---

I will never ask for nothing that I won't give in return
You will never have to question the value of my words
Amalie

Amalie would step out of the bungalow, making her way outside. She knew that some might have expected her to take out the mages then and there, but she just wasn't in that place at the moment. Despite her integration into the guild, she couldn't kill in cold blood. Even with that one mages taunting words, she just wasn't angry enough, desperate enough to go so far. She knew what state of mind she needed to be in to kill, she'd achieved that before, on the battlefield with that Rune Knight, Shane Stern. But getting into that frame of mind again, was harder than she expected to be. This was fine though right? The mages would still be punished for their actions, they would still get what they deserved. Just not at her hands, she hoped that Sivvy and Johann would understand her decision. She just wasn't wired the same way, not yet at least.

Her ice blue eyes scanned the area, it was quiet here, most likely because they were still quite far on the outskirts of the city. There was likely to be much more activity the deeper they got in, activity the other groups were likely alright deeply involved with, she would spare a moment to hope that the mission was going smoothly, that there were no causalities. That the ones she grown to care for deeply were okay. She pushed this from her mind, not wanting such thoughts to distract her. Instead she would focus her attention of waiting for the others to arrive. Hoping that the quiet meant that their guild mates would be able to reach them without issue, the last thing she needed was them to lure the dark mages to their location. To trap them with excesses numbers, it would likely end in a rather bloody mess. Fortunately the wait was shorter than she expected, with the group of lower ranked members arriving at the team. Although much to Amalie's displeasure they were mostly neophytes and lower ranked soldiers. The idea of leaving them with the group of dark mages didn't seem like a sensible choice. She sighed, looking at the two that had originally accompanied her, she realised her best option was the leave one of them behind. Someone capable of protecting the other guild mates should the dark mages get out of hand.

"Alright, Isaak needs to stay here and supervise these mages, Kessicia and I will move forward to find the civilians." She instructed, her tone suggesting that there wasn't room for argument. If need be, Isaak could meet back up with them later, but for now this needed to be handled efficiently and whilst Isaak was relatively new to the guild, he was still more superior than the officers than had joined them. After which she turned to Kess, nodding for her to follow. She would begin to move deeper into town, her movements quick but her steps light. Keeping noise to a minimum, whilst moving she kept her gun in hand, just in case she would need to use it at any point.

---

Sivvy found herself a little perplexed by how Masha was referring to her. Calling her Ambassador was nice, but she feared the girl misunderstood how the 'Seven' came into play. Sivvy wasn't the seventh ambassador. There had only been two since the guild was still relatively new. And those two were co-running Dies Irae on equal footing. The clone didn't claim to know Masha all that well, but she did have to admit that something seemed strange. However, this was not the time nor place to get picky about her name. In the past, she'd literally answer to anything, so she'd just revert to that for now. Names didn't matter much until the war was over.

The salty tears she caught scent of were a little troubling. The slayer's relationship with emotions was rocky at best, but her training to cast off all feelings especially in battle still made up her core. It was unfortunate that some of their number had died already, but there was no use mourning them. Perhaps it was a bit cold, but those that died simply were not strong enough. This is why the members of Dies Irae trained so hard to get strong and disciplined. Failure and being defeated didn't aid their cause, and having too many weak links in the guild would weaken the whole chain in situations like these. Grieving could take place once they were finished and this island was rid of its dark plague. The fact that Masha had made it out alive spoke to her strength, something that should be celebrated. "Save your tears for when we're done," the pinkette spoke stiffly, dropping the subject after that.

Now the new addition to her formerly two-man cell inquired about her question. The ambassador pursed her lips a little but would oblige for now. "Yes, the question is odd, that's the point," Sivvy answered Masha with a nod, smirking just a little. She had her own little personal reason for the oddity that she didn't feel the need to explain. "It eliminates the possibility that anyone on this island but me could answer it, thus making it the most reliable security question, right?" she finished up with a rhetorical question, stepping over the pulverized remains of a fruit tree. What had caused such widespread yet consistent devastation?

As they moved on, Masha would continue to talk. This wasn't entirely ideal since Sivvy preferred to stay silent and focused while she worked, but in her time as a leader, she'd realized that people had different methods and needs in battle. Since Masha seemed the emotional sort, perhaps chattering eased her nerves or aided her in some way. She'd allow it for now, since they weren't trying to be stealthy. Drawing out ambush cells was actually what they wanted. The redhead postulated over why Kenrojima was the target for the takeover if it was so easily reached by the militaristic guild. "Honestly, Dies Irae can easily attack anywhere. It makes no difference where evil strikes, we have the facilities and the moral obligation to hunt them down," the ambassador spoke with confidence, having no doubt that whether in the middle of a land-locked country or out in the middle of the ocean like this, no dark mage sins were safe from Dies Irae's retaliation. "The reason they settled here is probably simply the assets of the island and the isolated location. If not for the report we received, we may never have known about Kenrojima and its problem."

The subject came back around to the 'Seventh Ambassador' issue, which Sivvy was a little grateful for. She could now set it straight as they walked through the razed tropical landscape, but even more troubling developments arose. The young woman knew she'd introduced herself to Masha a certain way, giving her the choice of calling her Sivvy or 7. Though she didn't do that anymore and introduced herself more naturally, that was what she knew Masha had known her by. But now she was even asking who Johann and Amalie were, and she knew Masha knew them as well. Now, Aven was a name she was unfamiliar with, but the rest she'd clear up as quickly as possible. "Firstly, I'm not the 'Seventh Ambassador', I'm Ambassador 7. The number 7 is my designation, though my official name is now Sivvy. Ambassador Sivvy," she clarified, taking the folder but pausing before looking inside. She had a strong inkling that she knew what lied within. She also had more than a feeling that Masha had lost her memories somehow. "Dies Irae is a newer guild, so there have only been two Ambassadors, and we lead together. The other ambassador is Johann von Weiss, the man who was speaking with me at the start of this mission. We don't have assigned ambassador numbers, but technically Johann was the first one since he created the guild and I joined a little later. Amalie is our Commander, the next in leadership after the ambassadors. As for Aven, I've never heard of him," she finished, now opening the folder to skim the first page briefly before whipping it closed. She now glanced at the amnesiac, more certain than ever Masha had forgotten everything since she remembered the exact moment she'd seen this folder the first time. "Masha, none of this is true," emphasized Sivvy, handing it back to the crimson-haired woman. "You used to write fictional stories about people you knew, especially in some fantastically crude scenarios. I don't know why, but if you are trying to get your memories back, reading that will not help you," the clone assured her, wishing she'd burnt the file instead. Why Masha had that of all things on her person, let alone in the middle of a war with a dark guild was very odd to the stoic woman, but it'd do no good to chide her about it now.

Since the questions seemed to ebb for the moment, Sivvy turned her attention to her mentee. "Nathaniel, keep an eye out for Amalie, Johann, or Markus," she instructed, knowing better than to ask Masha to identify these people now that she was aware of her condition. On that note, though, she wasn't sure if Nathaniel had ever met Markus, but she didn't edit her words. The point still stood and pointing out anyone he spotted would help, friend or foe.

Suddenly, their leader tilted her head of and sniffed at the air. It was hard pulling scents out too much, since the overwhelming smells of squashed, rotting fruit and splintered trees hung heavy amongst the blood and human decay. However, they were too far inland for it to make sense that she was smelling very salty, fishy. Angling their course to follow the smell, soon her sharp carmine eyes caught something on the ground that was deep black. It wasn't a shadow because there was nothing around to cause it. "Guys, over here," she said, darting forward to stand at the edge of a large puddle of black liquid. She wrinkled her nose at the intensifying smell. The blazing sun overhead wasn't helping the strong ocean odor. Her nostrils burned. "Cephalopod ink," she deducted, stooping to grab a segmented leaf. She touched it to the shiny onyx goop, and it started to sizzle. "Acidic Cephalopod ink. Judging by the size of this pool...it's very big. Maybe that's what destroyed all these trees going inland?" Sivvy thought aloud, wanting to let her two companions in on her reasoning. "Too big to be a regular octopus or squid...and too big for the villagers to fight off. They've brought a monster-"

Without warning, the ambassador shot to her feet and turned to the right. Her hearing picked up just the quietest snap of a twig, though she didn't see or sense anyone. Within seconds there was a large, ornate spear of gold and blue in her hand, chain whipping gracefully behind her along with some cerulean energy. Her arm pulled back and she launched it seemingly at nothing, some point on the outer right rim of the ink pool. A sickening squelch of a blade lodging into flesh sounded, and as blood started dripping to the ground the illusion lifted.

Around the entire rim, a small army of dark mages had formed, all facing the three inspecting the ink. Apparently word had traveled of their strength and the smaller ambush cells Sivvy had thought they'd have encountered on their way had joined together into one large one for better odds. "Valiant attempt to change strategy, but it won't do you any good," she called across the black pond, pulling the chain and yanking the body impaled on its tip back to her. She swung it now, bashing the body into a couple of the now attacking enemies, knocking both of them into the acidic goop as well as ridding her blade of its corpse. The two living bodies sinking in the ink screamed and flailed, but could find no buoyancy to swim, nor could they really function with their skin being eaten off. "Careful of that," she warned Masha and Nathaniel as if she needed to tell them not to fall in or get it splashed on them.

The horde was descending upon them now, led by a tall woman in all black armor of some sort and her band of cherrypicked thugs. With much bravado, the dark mage called for them to tear the three Dies Irae members to shreds, wanting to keep their meat somewhat intact for "the beast". This only confirmed Sivvy's theory, but now was not the time to wonder about that. She'd successfully pissed them off by drawing first blood and immediately killing three of their comrades, so their bloodlust was at a high. That was something the three could use. They'd be sloppy. "Don't die. Kill them all. Let none escape!" Sivvy cried and with that, she shot off like a bullet to face the lady with the delicious looking armor. The clone was craving a snack...

---

I will never ask for nothing that I won't give in return
You will never have to question the value of my words
Amalie

---

The further they plunged into the city, one thing became clear. The devastation that the dark mages had wrecked on the people here, buildings decimated, the very air around them thick with blood. The rubble and dirt crunched under her boots as Amalie made her way further into the city, there had been a change of plans. After running into injured soldiers, she had needed to leave Kessicia behind and was continuing the search for the civilians by herself. Which was fine, although it provided less distraction from taking in the chaos the dark mages had dealt about the once-peaceful island. Her anger was stewing, she could feel it, and whilst Anima could drain away some of it's intensity, he couldn't rid her of it all. It was still there, growing hotter by the minute. Perhaps he wanted her to feel the rage, to use it in the fight ahead in hopes that it would aid her to enact the justice she knew was yet to come. But if this was his intentions, he was keeping it to himself.

She stalked through the alleyway silently, only those with exceptional hearing might have picked up on her quiet movements. Her magic sensory spread to it's furthest reaches, she could feel the wielding of magic in the distance. Giving her a rough idea where the others were, this was good, the fighting would help her. If they could keep the majority of the dark mages distracted, it would be easier for the Commander to free the civilians. As she reached the edge of the alleyway, she heard the scurry of fighting nearby, it couldn't be more than two or three people. Distantly she heard a cry of pain, a man's voice, her eyes narrowed. It sounded familiar, a voice she often heard back in the halls of the guild. She glanced around the corner of the wall that she had been pressed against, icy blue irises searching for the source of the sound. Soon spotting him, Joffrey. In the throws of battles with two other men wielding swords, one arm hung limply at his side, bleeding profusely. His working hand wielding a longsword which he was swinging at his opponents desperately. Attempting to take them down before they could do the same to him, his form wasn't bad, but there was two of them, and he was clearly hurt. Amalie took a slow steadying breath, she knew it would likely injure his pride, but regardless she had no choice to aid her mousy-haired apprentice. Power would begin to flow through the woman as she began to recite her magical scripture;


The ground where the mages fought began to tremble, and through the earth chains would burst forth. At an unavoidable speed they would wrap themselves around Joffrey's assailants, yanking the weapons from their grasps, and yanking them down into the earth, binding them there. Joffrey stared down at the men with confusion, looking around him, his eyes would fall on the commander as she moved out from behind the cover of the alley. She would approach him, her expression stoic as she stepped up to the younger male. "C-Commander West..." He uttered, short of breath from the fighting he had been engaged in momentarily before. She said nothing, instead she would reach out and take his arm, earning herself a pained yelp from the trainee. Upon closer inspection it was clear that the arm was broken, and the gash that ran from his shoulder down to his elbow was especially deep.

"Hold still." She told him sharply, placing her fingers over the wound. "Heal." Energy poured from her hands into the man's arm he would groan through gritted teeth as his broken bones mended themselves, his flesh stitching itself back together. Moments later his arm was in significantly better condition than it had been moments ago. She would take her hands away, and he would move the arm to test it. "Um, Thank you." He said, a hint of surprise in his voice, and as she had predicted the hint of embarrassment that his superior had needed to save him. Amalie nodded, even if she did help, she had to acknowledge that Joffrey had faired well on his own. As she scanned their surroundings, she spotted two additional bodies. One of a dark mage and one of another guild members. "What happened?" She asked, Joffrey followed her gaze to their fallen comrade.

"Jones and I got separated from our group during the chaos of battle, we were trying to make our way back to the others to regroup when we were ambushed by the men here. I think they were guarding something but I don't know what." Amalie nodded, she shifted her gaze from the dead to their captives. Their bodies had been dragged under the earth by the chains, only their heads poked out from the soil, struggling under the grip of the hell chains. "Where are you keeping your civilians?" Neither answered, they merely continued to struggle against the grip of the chains. Her eyes flashed angrily, and the chains would tighten. "Answer me." She barked, her voice the epitome of intolerance. Neither spoke, however one of them would glance away, a look Amalie did not miss. She followed the line of sight and in the distance she spotted what appeared to be a church. "Come Joffrey," As she looked back at her apprentice, she saw the hesitation in his face as he eyed their dead guildmate. "We'll come back for Jones's body after the battle, right now we need to get the civilians to safety." She told him firmly, although there was a small hint of understanding in her tone.

Leaving the captives in the dirt, the two ran towards the church, the closer they got to the building the more Amalie would feel Anima squirm. Amalie... Anima called, but she ignored him. She didn't have time to talk right now, there were people that needed rescuing. They covered the distance, and soon they were stood outside its giant mahogany doors. Amalie...you don't want to go in there, let me deal with this. He insisted, she scowled, displeased by the suggestion. Was there something in there he didn't want her to face? Something he didn't think she was strong enough to handle? I have to Anima, whatever it is. I can handle it, you can't protect me from everything. She answered, even so she got the strangest sense of dread from the building. She paused, her hand reached out, resting on the iron handle. Anima said nothing else, which she took as him agreeing not to interfere. With a pull, she yanked the doors open, and stepped inside.

Inside was exactly what one might expect of a church of this nature, rows and rows of seats facing toward a platform. On the platform was a podium, additional small benches and an organ. The walls were decorated all over with religious posters and paraphernalia, proclaiming positive messages and praises to the lord. A giant cross hanging over the centre of the room. The place was light up with a multi-coloured streams of light that peered through the stain glass windows. It may have been empty of anything living, but it was not empty of people. Amalie's eyes rose upwards, where hanging from the beams of the church were the bodies of whom she could only assumed were the civilians. Tight binds of woven rope strapped around their necks, holding them there like streamers tied to rag dolls. Their faces the vision of ones whom had suffered in death, their expressions pained and their eyes empty of life. The entire room filled with the putrid stench of their rotting bodies, thick enough to choke you.

Amalie stood there frozen, her eyes wide from the shock, a cold chill running through her. Behind her, she could hear Joffrey scurry back from the entrance, the sound of him vomiting clear within the eerie silence that the room bore. She felt herself trembling, she had seen death in great mass. But this was cruel, and more horrifying than she had anticipated, all of these poor innocent people. Hung to their deaths just for living here, just for existing in a space the dark mages wanted to claim for themselves. The rage the Anima had been attempting to quell was suddenly magnified, the hate for the dark mages escalating to a explosive level.

Magic would swell through her, and she would find herself hissing her next spell angrily, "Translocation." The woman would instantly vanish from the spot where she had been standing, reappearing in front of the men she had partially buried. Wordlessly, she pulled Celeste from her hip, adjusting her grasp on the hilt of the rapier. The men had little time to scream for help, she plunged the lethal tip of the blade through the eye socket of the first one, it's bloody tip burying it's way deep into his skull. Then with a swift yank she pulled it out of him and drove the sword through the others gullet, silencing his cries for help. Her breathing ragged as she sentenced the men to death, her actions fuelled from the convoluted mixture of hatred for them, and remorse for the civilians. Tears threatening to fall, but the woman quickly blinked them away, attempting to compose herself before returning to Joffrey. He said nothing as she returned to him, fool as he could be, he knew better then to question her actions.

She returned the crimson-stained rapier to it's sheath, her voice quiet as she addressed her subordinate. "We...can't leave them this way. Could you help me cut them down?" She asked, her voice soft, the anger quickly fading, replaced with sorrow. Joffrey nodded, he didn't want to approach the bodies, he actually wanted to get as far away from the building as he could. But he knew that there were more important things right now, wiping the remnants of puke from his lips. He would move forth, as Amalie guided him to the first body, the body of an elderly woman. She would summon her shards to cut through the rope, and as it fell, Joffrey would lower the corpse to the ground. One by one they repeated this, saying nothing as they worked to return some dignity to the unfortunate people of Kenrojima.

Though Sivvy had dismissed most of what Masha said in favor of keeping her focus on the crusade at hand with a "now's not the time", she couldn't help but find herself thinking slightly about the theories on Dies Irae's capabilities and her theories about her 'double' and the island takeover being a trap even as they entered into battle at the ink pool. How could she explain to the amnesiac that her clone being present was something unique to her situation of being a clone and not something that could happen to everyone in the guild? It hadn't been on the radar as guild business before now. The ambassador knew there were many, many copies of herself in various situations, not including to the five clones active within the Magic Council. There was only one incident a few months ago that had her looking into some of her sisters with a nagging hunch, but she hadn't found any confirmation that any clones were active dark mages. Well, she hadn't had any confirmation until now. Until she'd seen the fear in the eyes of the survivors here. Fear of her. The connection was clear. Honestly, she didn't know what would happen if and when they came into contact with whichever clone was here. It wasn't ideal.

The slayer needed to focus. The fact remained that her clone wasn't here amongst the dark mages facing them at this ink pool. Not that she could see. One of the unfortunate aspects of her sisters being identical to her was she couldn't smell them like she could other people. She was nose blind to her own scent, and thus the scent of all of her cloned 'siblings' unless they used magic that carried a scent she could identify them by. Since she didn't have any relationship with them, there was no way she'd be privy to such information. Among the faces she scanned of the enemies that rushed her and met their ends in droves, all were visible and none were her own. Unless an illusion continued to ask more enemies, this clone debacle would wait until this small army was decimated.

Upon charging through the riff-raff in her way and leaving a wake of blood and death, Sivvy reached the woman in the bleak armor and the smug face. As predicted, the woman seemed to have little care for the carnage that just befell her underlings. Two of her more immediate henchmen began to mobilize in her defense, but she held an arm out to disarm them. "I'll handle her, boys," the dark mage grinned toothily, waiting until the two fell back to a safe distance, curiously inert.

As a good guild master should, she quickly glanced to make sure her two companions were doing alright. Masha seemed to be getting reacquainted with her abilities and Nat was fighting a man with a hammer. Both seemed fine, so she focused on her fight instead. As per Dies Irae's values, her guild members should be strong and disciplined enough to handle any threat. Their convictions should drive them onward, giving them no option of failure. Falling to a dark mage was unacceptable. The wrench in that was Nathaniel's newness and Masha's obvious aforementioned issues, the latter of which was a complication she wished hadn't been introduced. This quest to save an entire island's population and utterly eradicate the shadowy threat was not the place for an identity crisis and relearning lost knowledge. How had she even ended up on this expedition? No, again she told herself to focus. Whatever happened would happen, but Sivvy could not fail here. The armored mage slowly baring down on her deserved her deadly attentions.

The bulky female launched an attack that brightened Sivvy's eyes, a reaction she'd clearly not been expecting. The jagged pieces of dark metal that jutted out of the back of her metallic suit at such speed usually brought at least a little alarm from her enemy. All the ambassador saw was a much-needed snack. Her mentee's cake and its buffs were still with her as were Masha's magical support, but the belly of the metal dragon slayer was never satisfied and even rumbled at the thought of the meal she was about to be served. Carmine eyes eagerly watched the ragged ribbons that tried to slice and rip her flesh, but she merely danced out of the way and then lunged back in to try and grab it. Reflexively the dark mage yanked her flexible blades back, unsure why the woman didn't just deflect them or continue to evade. Trying to grab it could mean nothing good. Her mind whirled at the implications. To test the waters a little more pragmatically. Lifting an armored arm, she launched a black iron spike at her Dies Irae foe, wisely becoming wary of the ambassador.

A loud clash of metal on metal sounded, and the armored lady thought she'd figured out her gaffe. The legal mage also had metal magic. No matter. She was confident in her expertise...for about a second. "You've made a mistake," Sivvy spoke, almost sounding taunting to anyone who didn't know her. While not a taunt, the confidence in her words was unmistakable. The metallic spike she had stopped in her own metal-skinned hand was wrenched from her enemy's control and brought to the ambassador's mouth. Teeth bared down on it and easily ripped a chunk out of the black metal, and after a few chews, she swallowed it and returned to it to devour it more quickly. "Delicious." Truthfully it wasn't delicious. There was a strange acrid taste to it, and the slight burning she felt inside was telling. The metal's scent wasn't unlike the ink pool, though the amount it was laced with wasn't enough to put her down. Had she dipped her armor into the ink beforehand? If so, that was more clever than she'd given the evil woman credit for, but would deal with later.

Beneath the darkened helmet's open guard, the scowl was clear to Sivvy. A few more test attacks were thrown by a foe that was hesitant to believe her mastery wouldn't best the metal eater, and Siv was more than happy to devour them to keep up the intimidation. Just this little bit of skirmish between the two mages with similar magic but highly different values took mere seconds, potentially blurred to the average onlooker, but it was enough. Knowing her attacks would only fuel the enemy and that dodging the precise attacks that followed would result in her death, the Highbrand knight quickly changed it up. "Ma'am!" the two watching from afar cried, but again she held up an arm to keep them at bay. "Don't worry! I'm no one-trick pony!

Though it was a dent in her ego for sure, the knightly woman did not possess the virtues normally indicative of wearers of such armor. Sivvy was stronger than he expected, and now knew the bulk of her ambush team was dispatched so quickly not because of their inexperience or weakness, but because she was extremely skilled. Now that she was closer, sensing the gap in their magical strengths was staggering, leading to her fighting dirty. Reaching an arm out, a spin of a black finger bubbled and swirled the ink in the pool. There was a reason she was so valuable to this dark guild. She controlled the Kraken's ink. She controlled the Kraken. Levitating a handful of viscous goop, she twitched the finger and the blobs launched at Sivvy like corrosive bullets. Knowing they would eat through her metal and skin with ease, Sivvy teleported out of the way and closer to her enemy in a dodge and attack combo, her summoned sword's blade jabbing toward to pierce her armored neck.

"I wouldn't," the woman said sharply, grinning as the blade stopped with its tip lightly pricking the tender flesh of her throat. So much for the armor's protection. The blade had pierced it as if it hadn't been there. She felt blood dripping from the contact, soaking into her underclothes. Still, the devilish light in her eyes gave Sivvy lightning-fast pause. This enemy knew something she didn't and was about to reveal it. As much as she'd love to believe this was just a cheap ploy to delay the inevitable and she could skip it by pushing the blade forward, it just made sense that there was more to this ambush than an unwise head-on attack. "Explain," Sivvy demanded, giving the blade a nudge hard enough for the woman to flinch and swallow hard. The pinkette had no patience for games, especially not when she was being corroded from the inside and had to pretend it wasn't affecting her. "Just look at the pool," the dark knight chuckled, gesturing with the same hand that had swirled the ink, though this time it seemed to be intended for one of her underlings.

One of the mages, now clearly the one with the illusion magic, dropped the last illusion at the center of the pool. It was a plateau with a group of innocent survivors, huddled together and terrified atop their small piece of safe earth. "Stop fighting. Call off all your little friends all over the island, or these simple fruit farmers will fizz away into nothing," she put forth her threat. The other mage hanging back, reached both arms forward, shaking the plateau just enough for the poor islanders to scream and drop to their knees. Sivvy's strained eyes shifted from the innocents to the woman she held at her blade's tip, pausing.

This was quite a moral dilemma for a girl who doesn't truly know how to gauge these things. Kill the bad guys at all costs, even if that cost was some of the people they were trying to rescue? Or should she risk letting the dark mages win and live, just to save the small group over the island as a whole? It seemed clear that it'd be pointless to save these innocents only to leave them in the tyrannical rule of their oppressors. They wouldn't be saved at all, just maybe alive..and who could tell how much longer they'd stay alive. Every bit of her training by Dr. Raelin screamed that it was most efficient to the mission to disregard the doomed group. Just a casualty of war. But it also felt like letting them die was wrong per her newer set of parameters. Much of her creator's teachings hadn't lined up with those of Johann and Dies Irae, leading her to slowly drop them and relearn. It was wrong, right? Letting them die? But how could she keep them from dying without agreeing to the demand and pulling back? Sivvy longed for Johann or Amalie to tell her the right answer but knew she was on her own. Her anxiety became palpable, reflected back at her in the wicked eyes of her opponent. Nathaniel being launched off far into the distance put her in an even harder position because that made them even more outnumbered and she can't count on anyone to try and save the people at the center of the pool in time. There was no way to mount a proper rescue. Masha didn't have control enough of her magic to somehow pull that off, especially without coordination. She didn't have the luxury of coordinating an attempt. From what she could feel, Johann and Markus were already in battle closer to the heart of the island and likely couldn't come to aid them, even if she did sense her mentee near them now. The likelihood they'd all make it back here in time was just as unlikely as Johann and Markus abandoning their positions. This was a split-second decision, one of Sivvy's growing number of weaknesses.

The armored lady thought she'd won. The stressed look on the legal mage's face was telling. No matter how strong a filthy legal mage was, they were always soft. Spare the innocents! No doubt she'd decide to bring the islanders to safety and then would call off her guild to regroup, and by then they'd be far more prepared to do to Dies Irae what Dies Irae planned to do to them. They'd round up all the innocents this time to use as leverage and meat shields. The island was just about depleted of resources anyway! They hardly needed any locals to harvest the last of the fruit trees, and before long this small cell of Highbrand mages would move on to their next victim. Toting a win against such a supposedly strong force for justice, their influence would only spread! A deep laugh bubbled up from her gut, forcing its way out of her throat despite the movement digging the blade deeper into her skin. The pain was nothing in comparison to the euphoric high from this power she now held over someone so much stronger than she was. The laugh was sick and twisted, relishing in the confusion and anguish on Sivvy's face.

The evil knight had again misread the situation. Even as the conflicted confusion faded away into anguish and then back to stoic acceptance, the armored woman guffawed. "Hahahaha! Didn't see that coming, did you, justice-guzzling trash!" she celebrated, reaching up to try and move the arm with the blade, but it wouldn't move. "You've lost! It's time to lick your wounds! Hahahaha!" Sivvy still didn't move, though an involuntary spasm of her diaphragm pushed some blood from her damaged esophagus and stomach out to drip from the corner of her mouth. "Hahaha! You're not even as tough as I thou--"

The crimson dripping from Sivvy's lips was soon matched by her antagonist but on a grander scale. The blade that the woman had thought would never move forward did just that, lodging deep within her throat with a sickening squelch. The two stared into each other's eyes, and though the knight could no longer speak, her widened eyes spoke loudly enough. This was not the outcome she'd expected and justice was much colder than she thought. If the ambassador's eyes were any indication, she and everything around her would become a frozen wasteland.

Sivvy didn't linger. In a last-ditch effort to have her cake and eat it too, she left the blade in the knight's neck, leaving her to choke, bleed out, and die. Sivvy rocketed to the island in the middle of the inky black, not even having a plan on how to get so many people off it at once, but no plan would have helped. As soon as her foot touched it, the screaming earth mage behind the down knight violently whipped his hands downward, and the plateau promptly sank. Sivvy could only grab the closest villager, a single female child, before the acid licked at her boots and rapidly ate them away. The relief on the mother's face was bittersweet as she kicked off at the last moment with only the little girl in her arms, leaving the other fifteen to cry until they dissolved. Landing with burned bare feet back on the pool's edge. She turned the crying child's face away from her mother's fate while she gazed upon the consequences of her actions. The feeling in her gut was unfamiliar, but it was very different than the pain she felt from the acidic damage. This was something complex, something emotional, and thus something she couldn't quite understand or deal with right now.

Since that was over and there appeared to be no more traps and ploys, Sivvy moved the young girl out of the way and instructed her to shut her eyes and cover her ears. The slayer was awful with children. She didn't understand them. She did know that it would only hurt the child more to watch what Sivvy was about to do, so if that could be avoided it'd be best.

By the time Nat made it back, it was already done. The group of innocents was dead and dying in the pool of acidic Kraken ink and Sivvy was beside herself. Literally. In her thirst for the heads of these dark mages, she accessed the time magic held within her requip weapons and summoned a version of herself from somewhere else in time, something she hadn't been aware she could do before this very moment and would have been much more helpful in the previous moments to try and save the people. What could have been utilized to help would now only reign decimation down on the remaining enemies.

In the blink of an eye, both Sivvys flickered out of view. The summoned Sivvy copied the pale blue ax decorated with a wolf's head that had appeared in the summoner Sivvy's hands. Both Big Bad Wolf axes crackled with sinister electricity, and though the chains they were attached to were hazardous from spikes, both women gripped them tightly to keep control. What happened next was not for the faint of heart. Embarking on a righteous massacre, the two channeled the requips' abilities and blinked around the battlefield as if they'd become the crackling lightning themselves. Everywhere they appeared cause dozens of the remaining leaderless dark mages to fall into bloody piles, or others crumpling in on themselves from electrocution powerful enough to either stop their hearts or stun them long enough for the blade to swing out and make easy work of them. Dismembered bodies thumped to the ground at an alarming rate, even the ink-combusting dogs and their handlers that had assaulted Nathaniel upon his return. Any enemy that wasn't currently being taken care of by Masha and Nathaniel was put down like the rabid beasts they seemed to be. There was not a shred of mercy in her for these dark souls. She felt that even the ground was too good to be painted with their gore.

In a puff of blue aura and time-winding script, her summoned self returned back to its proper point in the timeline. She returned to the child she'd saved and took her by the hand, walking ahead enough to but the sights and scents of demise out of range. The child was probably in shock, given the terror and grief she was probably experiencing, or maybe she was blindly obedient because she dared not cross the blood-spattered warrior that tugged her along. Either way, they two silently waited for Sivvy's guildmates to rejoin her, presuming they didn't need her help further. If all things went according to expectation, they'd once more begin making their way toward the center of the island, where the other ambassador and the rest of their guild were likely already in the thick of slaughter.

---

I will never ask for nothing that I won't give in return
You will never have to question the value of my words
Amalie

Body by body they would descend, lowered by the joint efforts of the Dies Irae mages. Her heart panged with pain for every member of the dead they brought down, for the indiscriminate slaughter the dark mages had put upon them. As the blue-haired woman looked upon the others, she could only hope that they were at peace, although something told her that this wasn't the cause. An innate feeling, she couldn't place it but there was a knowing. They hadn't moved on, not all of them. Anima... can we do something? She asked the Nephilim, his magic was tied to souls and to the other side. I can.. but Amalie, it is frowned upon to intervene in the laws of nature. The remaining souls, the ones you sense wandering limbo. They are there for a reason. It may not be what you wish to hear, but this is all a part of Father's plan. Just trust that you have eased their eternal sufferings by taking them down from their shameful hanging.

Her fist's clenched, his words only fuelling a soft rage brewing inside her once more. Her frustrations at hearing such reasoning, it was events such a these that always brought concepts such as 'Gods plan' into question. And if it wasn't for the fact that this was a tragedy caused by the hands of dark mages, then the full extent of her rage may have been redirected. All that mattered now was saving the civilians and ridding this island of it's dark inhabitants. As the final body came down from the beams, Amalie and Joffrey stood side by side, solemn. Unsure of what words befitted this situation, she could feel Anima's coaxing, feel his suggestion. He wanted her to say a prayer, although he was holding back due to her rage. She sighed, despite her feelings it was better than nothing. After a moment, the words spilled into her mind and she would speak them softly. The large halls of the church causing her words to echo as she spoke; "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."

The church fell silent once more, a small tear rolling down her cheek as briefly her resolve was broken. Whether Joffrey saw this or not mattered not to the woman at this point, he himself was a sobbing mess, reeking of regurgitation. Amalie wiped her face of the tear, before addressing her assistant with something else on her mind. "We should search the rest of the church. It's faint but I can sense magic in the building." She told him, turning away from the bodies now resting on benches, pushing deeper into the building. She guided her own magical senses, probing the magical signature with her own. The closer she was to the magic, the more it would resist her own, pushing back as she pressed forth. It was stronger towards the podium, the tension she felt increasing as she stepped closer. She moved to the alter, feeling it's intensity rise but not quite. She would step toward the chancel, her blue irises searching the space around her. As she glanced down she noticed the edge of a  burgundy rug, it's corner dog-eared slightly, as thought pulled in on itself on more than one occasion.

She crouched down, grasping the edge of the fabric, she pulled it back revealing as she had suspected; a trap door underneath. She called Joffrey over, before reaching down and pulling back the handle. She felt resistance, as though it had been locked from the inside. Which only suggested to the woman that someone was down there. She clenched her fist, rasping her knuckles against the wood softly. "Hello? Is anyone there?" She called softly, listening for a response. It was soft, but she heard a small scuffling from beneath the wood. "We're hear to help you, to stop the dark mages who have taken this land for their own." She explained further, before pausing, trying to think of a way to coax them out. "I won't hurt you, you have my word." She would look over at Joffrey, kneeling there in pause. Several moments passing, stretched out as they waited in anticipation for something. For anything.

Until finally, there was a moving inside, hushed voices whispering hastily and then a loud click that reflected that of an lock being undone. The trap door would lift open a young pair of wide-dark eyes peering out at her. A boy, no older than fifteen with a face full of suspicion and fear. Amalie's expression softened, "Hello, my name is Amalie, I am a Commander amongst the soldiers of Dies Irae. We are a faction who have come to free your people. What's your name?" She asked delicately. The boy glanced from her to Joffrey, he was cautious, she could understand that, given everything that he'd endured. "Mason." He answered quietly, following which he would ask.  "How can I trust you?" She smiled softly, "Because If I meant you harm I wouldn't have knocked. Mason, our guild, we're fighting the dark mages, the people that have wronged you. I assure you, we will defeat them, but to do so easily we need to get as many civilians out of the way that we can. We have ship, it's protected, I can take you and anyone else hiding down there with you to safety." She told him, hopeful that she might be able to convince him. She could see the turmoil in his gaze, his wavering trepidations combating with his attempt at bravery.

"We... they can't. Our parents they... I can't let them see it." He said, his firm tone weakened with sadness, the Articulation mage's eyes filled with sorrow as she put the pieces together. The others she could sense, they were children, the children of those who had been hung. Those that had died had done so in the hopes of keeping their children safe and hidden from the dark mages. It added an element to her determination in saving them, to do so and ensure that those who were murdered did not die in vain. Suddenly Joffrey spoke up from behind her, breaking his own silence. "I can help. With...not letting them see."  He said, Amalie glanced to him as he meaning dawned on her. Joffrey wasn't especially skilled with combat magic, but something he did have was illusion magic. "With Joffrey's magic, they won't see them. It'll be as though the church is empty, right Joffrey?" She confirmed to which he would nod. Despite her words, he still seemed uncertain. "When this is all over, we'll come back and lay them to rest properly, that I promise you."

Minutes passed as he considered this, each moment feeling as though it was dragged out longer than it was. Until finally, he nodded, Amalie sighed in relief. Keen to get a move on, the longer they wasted the more likely they were to get caught. She signalled Joffrey to start the spell, an action he quickly obliged. Turning from her, he brought his hands up, waves of energy rippling from him. The spell itself was harmless, one of the things she'd learned when training with Joffrey in the past, but nonetheless effective. Once the room was camouflaged by his spells, even to Amalie it appeared empty, just a church, no bodies.  "You can come out now." Mason's pushed open the trap door fully, softly he called to the others further into the hidden cellar. And so, one by one they climbed out, their small petrified faces causing an ache in Amalie's heart. Small feet climbed out of the trapdoor, gathering around they looked on. Amalie did a count, fifteen of them, an assortment of various ages. Mason was the oldest, and the youngest would appear to be around six years of age. Which brought another question to her mind in regards to their ages, although it wasn't something she was ready for to deal with the possible answer. Right now she couldn't allow herself to be consumed in more devastation, she needed to focus on saving them.

"Stay close, follow my lead. I will save you all." She instructed, before turning to Joffrey, "Cover the rear, make sure the kids remain between us at all times." She ordered, the two of them ushered the children into pairs. Swiftly they would begin to guide them out of the churches,  returning once more to the outdoors. They begun they're path across the remains of the city, Amalie following the path she had taken prior in order to guide the children back to the ships. They managed to keep a steady pace, it would have been better to move faster, but she knew that the children would only be able to keep such a speed for so long. It was a fair stretch between the church and the beach. They had covered quite some ground before one of the smaller girls shrieked in alert, causing Amalie to whip her head round. Her momentary panic quickly settled as she laid her eyes on a familiar pink-haired woman.

"Sivvy! Thank goodness, Don't worry she's my friend." She assured the children, before returning her attention back to 'Sivvy'."I'm bringing some civilians back to the ship, how is the mission progressing thus far?" Those familiar carmine eyes would look upon them, although Amalie noticed there was something off about her friends gaze, as though there was nothing behind it. Entirely empty. "Siv?" Suddenly the pinkette leapt forward, moving at dangerous speed towards the Commander. Her hands brandishing two wooden blades that Amalie was barely able to avoid. "Sivvy! What are you doing?!" she asked, instinctively moving to create space between them and the children. Joffrey rushed forward, standing protectively in front of the young.

'Sivvy' surged forth again, moving in a rhythmic dance of well-aimed attacks. Amalie barely ducking and diving out of the way, narrowly avoiding her. When she saw an opening, the blue haired leapt forward, grabbing the girls arms, she would pull them across, holding her in place. "Sivvy stop! What has gotten into you!" She barked, her eyes exploring those of her friends, and yet as she did so, she found nothing. They were void of anything, almost as if Sivvy wasn't there anymore. The sharp pain rippled through Amalie's body, looking down to her side her eyes fell on a what appeared to be a vine that had torn into her side. Amalie let go of one arm, reaching down to tear it out of her. Letting out a agonised groan as it's bloody tendril tore from her flesh.  A gunshot fired out of nowhere, the bullet narrowly skimming past 'Sivvy' causing her to jump back in caution. Suddenly Joffrey was there, grabbing his Commanders arm with his free hand, he yanked her back with all his force. The act of which would cause her to stumble back onto the ground, reeling as more pain shot through her side.

And then suddenly there was quiet. Amalie looked back over to where her assailant was. Joffrey stood in front of her, one palm facing her. It took Amalie a moment to realise that he was putting up another mirage, she watched at the woman who would be her ambassador watched whatever it was he was showing her. Although Amalie couldn't see it, it seemed to be convincing enough for her to turn away. Kicking off the ground at immense speed, she moved on as though moving to hunt down another target. After several excruciating minutes, she was out of sight completely and Joffrey turned back to them. He moved over to her, kneeling down, "Forgive my... intervening Commander, I couldn't stand by and do nothin, I showed her us teleporting away, which should hopefully buy us some time." He said, Amalie met his gaze, shocked by the actions of her assistant. It was a risky move, had she seen past his illusion she could have cut him down. But it had worked, his reckless bravery sparing them. "It's fine, you did what you had to. Thank you Joffrey." She looked down at the wound in her side, blood staining her clothes. She pulled forth her magic, surging it at the point of her wound. "Heal."

Pain rippled through the women once more, she cried out clutching her side which was now throbbing. Something was wrong, she looked down bewildered, checking the wound. It had healed over, no longer bleeding, but the skin was marred and the flesh there was tinged with green. It's Poison, you need to return to the ship immediately. You are no longer safe on this battlefield. Anima said, his voice strained with frustration. "I don't understand, why would our Ambassador attack you? Was she bewitched?" He queried, Amalie looked at him. Remembering the nature of the attack, it wasn't a spell she'd ever seen Sivvy used. At least not in that element, Sivvy's attacks were usually weapons or metals, but this was more... organic. Then there was another detail she knew about her friend, that she was made artificially made. Which begged the question, was she the only one. "No... I don't...I don't think that was Sivvy at all." With great strain, she climbed to her feet. Straightening up, she pushed past the pain, she needed to appear strong for the children after all. "We need to move quickly, I need to get back to the others to warn them. But first, let's get this kids to safety." With that they would continue their path to the ship, moving with even greater haste.

---

One by One They Fall at My Feet

Sivvy

Waiting for the others to join her wasn't her style, but she did. For now. The bloody ambassador was still, unnervingly so despite the chaotic little soul mourning and suffering at her side. Something had her attention, though, and it wasn't Masha fighting or Nathaniel's post-mortem beheadings. The distant rumbling that met her ears was concerning, as was the subtle tremor underfoot. So she was right. The battle at the heart of the dark guild, in the capital city, was beginning, and she was vaguely annoyed that she wasn't there. She was too slow, too easily getting hung up too long fighting this large group at the ink pool. The pinkette wondered if it was worth it since most of the innocents perished anyway. Was this one life worth it? The few lives her ally saved, were they enough to justify the delay? Sivvy stretched her sensory as far as it would go, trying to feel the various magical signatures of her friends for an update. Markus and Johann had made it to the final showdown, and though the enormous display of power from her co-ambassador was concerning, she harbored no worries. Sivvy had complete confidence that he could handle things until she and the others got there. He was her mentor, after all.

As Masha finished and finally approached, Sivvy was certainly grateful to be rid of the child. Dealing with such an emotional little person tugging at her hand and sobbing so brokenly drained her in a way that no amount of fighting ever could. For someone who struggled with emotion, the little girl's ease and ferocious use of them was jarring. The discomfort in Sivvy was palpable, even through her darkened stoic expression. Once the child was gone, she would answer Masha's many questions, despite Nat's concern. While she was feeling some unfamiliar things deep down, Sivvy was the last person to allow it to affect her enough to impact the mission. "Yes, many innocents died today, both before we arrived and after," she replied flatly, her mind recalling her own moment of failure, visualizing the faces of the ones she couldn't save dissolving into the acidic goop. It was a bitter taste. "That's the last of the patrols I can sense. If they are cloaking like this one did, there could be more ambushes, but by the size of this one I think was their last-ditch effort to stop us and it failed. Moving on to the center city takes paramount. Johann and Markus are already there and fighting. We need to hurry. The strongest opponents will be there, and in larger numbers than we've already encountered," she said with finality.

The clone wasn't expecting Masha to ask for a break, but she wasn't angry. Sivvy wasn't emotional in that way, but she was also very no-nonsense in the face of such a great threat. As her carmine eyes trailed to the ragged remnants of her other soldiers, it was clear not everyone had the stamina she had. She wouldn't push them or the woman to fight on if it would only get them needlessly killed, but she also wouldn't hang back with them. Dies Irae soldiers should be more than capable of protecting themselves should they need to bunker down. Besides, it was all clear of enemies now. However, before she could announce such, Nathaniel was doling out healings and cake, which was much needed. The burning in her stomach and veins lessened just a bit, though it didn't disappear. It seemed the ink she'd ingested with that tainted metal would be staying with her for a while. She placed the to-go cake in her bag, nodding as her mentee stated he was heading on ahead now. Having a healer in the heat of battle as quickly as possible was wise. "Thank you, and be careful," she told him, lingering behind, but not for long. "If you need a break after Nathaniel's aid, feel free to rest near here. I, however, won't be staying with you. If you feel recovered enough, continue inland to the capital. If not, feel free to return to the ship and protect the children."

Once she was finished speaking to what was left of her squad, Sivvy wasted no more time. She turned her back and blinked out of sight in a flash of light and metallic sparkles.

---

Now that she was on her own, the ambassador could move much faster. Teleporting in quick succession surely had overtaken even Nat's position, putting her in the farmland outside the walls of the city. Her senses were assaulted with the same grotesque deaths Johann had had to suffer, though naturally, she wasn't as affected by them as he was. Yes, she saw failure, same as he. They'd come to save the people of Kenrojima, but here they were seeing that the greater majority of them were dead even before Dies Irae's ship could kiss the shore. The way the bodies were displayed, rotting in the tropical sun on pikes and feeding scavengers, had little effect. Her face was still a shaded blank, even as her nose stung from the stench.

Her sharp gaze shifted down the road to where a gate and part of the wall had been obliterated. That must have been the thunderous rumble and earth-shaking entry of her mentor. Smoke rose overhead from smoldering flames, overtaking some of the rot. Yet, despite all the overbearing smells in the air, her sensitive nose picked up something that managed to shake the stillness on her face. Amalie's scent and blood. It wasn't coming from the city, but from the farmland to her right.

That's when she laid eyes on her.

Standing a distance down the path leading back out into the part of the island Amalie and some other squads would be was a mirror image of Sivvy. Though it had already been all but confirmed by the terror the survivors had displayed, it was a relief to know for a fact. The two 'sisters' stared at each other for a second that seemed like an eternity before they moved in unison, the clone colliding metal blades to wooden ones. Sivvy's eyes were bright with alarm, separating her from the dead-eyed doppelganger. "K?" Sivvy asked, not needing to see the tattoo to somehow know which clone this was, which seemed mutual as K responded with "7," as if her voice had never held an ounce of feeling in her life. Why was K still alive? And why did K smell like Amalie's blood? It was very distressing for the ambassador. Sivvy wasn't one for chatter while fighting, and she knew full well her sister was the same way. All she could do was hope her friend was okay...and destroy the defective clone for daring to lay a hand on someone so precious to her before she could hurt anyone else.

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