(Quintiles 29, 59 / 8:41PM)

  (Luke, Miles, Jack, and Stan)

  (Miles’s thoughts) I can’t see! How am I supposed to fight now!?

  As Jack put the pedal to the medal into the dark and grim tunnel in front of him, they all started to breathe in rapidly, their chests on the verge of exploding. Combined with their eyes clouded with the pitch-bck tunnel darkening their sense of vision, it caused them to perk up their ears and fre their nostrils.

  And to make matters worse, a pack of wolves only hunts by smell rather than sight, even if the dark tunnel clouded their vision…

  (Stan) Where are the wolves?

  Everyone swayed their heads in the dead of night, sweat trickling down onto the roof of the van. Using their ears as their way to navigate, Luke, the only one who had his eyes closed during the whole panic, focused his attention on his sixth sense.

  His breath rexed as his chest started to slowly push back and forth, his grip on both his uzis loosening as his sweaty palms started to stain the grip of his guns.

  (Luke’s thoughts) I think … I think the wolves…

  Gulping down a majority of his saliva down his throat, Luke turned his head towards the presence of the many dangers in the air in front of him. With his feet gripping the metal roof of the van, Luke’s hands started to shake violently as his breath could be heard right in front of him.

  Pointing both of his guns towards the direction of the sense that was telling him, Luke pced his fingers on both triggers, caressing them with his smooth skin.

  (Luke’s thoughts) I think the wolves are going to appear right in front of me in two seconds.

  In two seconds tops, the roof of the van creaked as two to three creatures managed to nd on the van, the wolves’s paws digging themselves onto the metal as their nuzzles reverberated across the tunnel.

  Having his finger ready on the trigger, Luke pulled back the triggers as his lungs were empty without breath. The recoil of both guns on each hand echoed the stone tunnel around them, Luke continued to shoot out the hot lead into the two to three wolves in front of him.

  And fortunately for both Miles and Stan, the light of the bullets firing out of Luke’s Uzi was enough for both of them to notice the wolves on the back of them, pointing their weapons at the wolves as well.

  (Stan) Shoot your guns! It creates light!

  (Miles) On it!

  Firing endlessly at a couple of wolves, Stan turned his head up to see that many other wolves wanted to jump in on the fray, their bodies lunging in the air as their nuzzles were wide open. With the light of their guns in half-second intervals seeing the wolves, Stan pointed his gun towards the wolves, aiming his assault rifle as the light of Miles and Luke’s guns went off.

  (Stan’s thoughts) Those sneaky canines!

  Pulling the trigger, Stan’s right arm and shoulder felt the recoil of the gun shaking his body, his aim less steady as he didn’t hit any major hit points on the wolves. Yet despite this, his eyes sharpened at the bloodthirsty wolves that fell to the bck asphalt below.

  Seeing the hot metal interrupt themselves straight towards the pack of wolves, he gnced at one of the wolves having more tar than usual.

  But Stan ignored it.

  Putting his gun to the side, the light of his rifle dying down, Stan clicked his trigger, but an echoing click barraged against his ears.

  (Stan’s thoughts) Shit! Got to get more ammo!

  Putting his left hand into his jacket pocket, he scoured through it as the many objects continued to graze his knuckles, the slight annoyance of his hand turning red from the bumps. But eventually, he found a small box, causing him to pull it out briskly as he took out a round of—

  The sounds of a wolf’s growl can be heard from the back.

  Turning his head to the sound of the growl, Stan had his hands full with his empty gun on his right hand and a box of ammo on his left. With nothing to protect himself with, Stan didn’t dare to take a step back in case one wrong slip would send him falling off the van.

  (Stan’s thoughts) Why out of all fucking times!

  Hearing the wolf lunge itself towards him, with the metal of the roof being dented as it created a loud thump, Stan pced his hands to cover his face and neck, his chest and stomach pushed down.

  Sensing the incoming threat drawing near, Stan’s eyes shivered despite the complete ck of light, his pupils dited to the max as his throat couldn’t conjure up a yell for help. His feet loosening themselves from the high-speed van, Stan’s hands shook as the objects in his hands started to creak under the tremors.

  (Stan) H-H-He—

  Even if he didn’t say it, a high-speed bullet grazed the tip of his ear as it hurdled its way toward the lunging wolf.

  His eyes, not even picking up the hot metal, managed to lodge itself into a lucky spot on the wolf. Even if the wolf managed to jump onto Stan, it only caused him to nd his back on the roof of the van, with the wolf’s body ying on top of him.

  Being jumped on by the wolf, Stan flinched his whole body back as he felt the cold and putrid air coming from the wolf. But fortunately for Stan, the wolf didn’t budge or move at all, as Stan felt the ck of blood or even a heartbeat at the wolf’s chest.

  (Stan’s thoughts) I wonder who would have shot the wolf in the dark?

  Having his hands pced on the wolf’s chest, Stan used his strength to push the wolf that was on top of him, the wolf nding itself on the incoming asphalt that was below. With the weight of the wolf gone, Stan slowly got up and he used his hands to support himself up, his legs quivering from the close call that he almost had.

  Turning his head to the direction of where the bullet was unched, slight visibility of smoke came out of the barrel of a micro SMG.

  (Stan) How did you know where the wolf was exactly?

  (Luke) Don’t be scared, but I just used my gut to blind fire straight at the wolf. I thought you weren’t going to make it.

  (Stan) Holy shit…

  The three men on top of the van noticed a dim light coming from the end of the tunnel, causing them to turn their heads towards it. Sensing that there were no more wolves anywhere near their vicinity, they all decided to sit down as the pressure of the immense holdout caused their legs to colpse onto themselves.

  Their breathing slowed down as they used their mouths to let the air in compared to their noses. Followed by them wiping off their foreheads, all of them sat down on the van as the weight of the exhaustion that burdened their backs was let go of.

  (Miles) Next time, no more tunnels…

  (Stan) You're preaching to the choir.

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  (Jack) So how’s it going up there you three?

  As the van safely exited out of the pitch-bck tunnel, the four men finally saw with their eyes the smoke-orange-filled sky above them, giving them at least some visibility to see through. As tiny particles of white and bck started to gently fall onto their shoulders and heads, they flicked their noses as the air was ridden with ash.

  Miles, looking down towards where Jack was driving, ground his teeth as he holstered back both his dual-wielding sawed-off shotguns. Now having his hands curling up into fists, his throat shook as his vocals started to constrain themselves from the filthy words he wanted to let out.

  (Miles) You little … you haven’t done anything to help us!

  (Jack) Uhm … I’m driving?

  (Miles) Then take us out of the highway!

  Jack let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes, his attention to the side view mirror where he could see Luke, Miles, and Stan. His right foot was still heavy on the pedal, and with the air breezing through the outside window, Jack noticed a green billboard sign, a sign that had white letters.

  Squinting as he put his high beams on again because he turned them off to avoid the attention of either Harold or Ryan, he looked at the green and white sign, as it told the distance in miles of the major exit.

  (Jack’s thoughts) I think that exit would lead us to the Zirardge building…

  (Jack) Hey, should we help out Gwen or Luna? Those two are facing two really powerful enemies.

  Jack pced his head outside of the van window, trying to gain contact with either three men on the roof. His grip on the steering wheel loosened, followed by the pedal slowly decreasing in speed, Jack’s body began to shift to the left to hold up his head.

  Miles, the nearest one to Jack, turned his head towards the red-haired man as his eyes made eye contact with him.

  (Miles) sighs … Should we? Gwen is pretty powerful on her own.

  (Stan) And Luna is the strongest fighter out of everyone.

  Stan also looked down to see Jack popping his head out, folding his arms as he started to stare into the abyss. His eyes looked at the passing asphalt of the highway, and Stan’s whole body tensed and contorted as he thought to himself.

  (Stan’s thoughts) And honestly, we’re nothing more than cannon fodder. We could barely handle Ryan and Harold, and even then we defended against them one at a time.

  Miles noticed the state of thought that Stan was in, and he turned his head towards Luke, putting his hands on his waist as he looked at both of them.

  Luke had his right hand pced on the bottom of his chin, staring at the back of the van with a chiseled look on his face. Rubbing his youthful jawline with his pointer finger, he continued to look straight at the highway in the back of him, his sixth sense starting to spark again as he slowly heard a reverb service bell.

  (Luke’s thoughts) Why am I sensing another enemy?

  Luke pced his right hand onto his right hip, his fingertips feeling the back of his Uzi as he continued to squint. Clearing his throat as he arched his head back, he took a step back as the reverb service bell started to slowly increase in volume, his heart pumping faster as if it wanted to escape his chest.

  Miles took note of the strange behavior coming from, causing him to slowly walk towards him with his eyes gncing at the highway in the back of the van.

  (Miles) What is it, Luke?

  (Luke) I think something is coming.

  (Jack) So … what’s the final answer? Should we help them or not?

  (Harold) You should say that after you battle with me!

  All four men clutched their stomachs and chests, their breathing intensified as their windpipes plowed more oxygen into their system. Looking around their darkened surroundings, except for Jack who had no choice but to focus his eyes on the road, the men rapidly moved their eyeballs to every angle that they could.

  Luke, hearing the reverb service bell loudly in his heart, had his whole body clenched in a heap of sweat as he turned to the direction of where the danger was lurking. Having his fingertips caressing the grip of his right side gun, Luke breathed in through his nose as he arched his body back.

  (Luke) It’s coming to the passenger side of the van…

  Everyone turned their heads towards the side where the passenger side was, their heads coated with sweat as they saw only a head pop out from the edge.

  With all three of them taking a step back, pcing their hands onto their holsters, the three men gulped loudly as the head and upper body, along with its arms, slowly crawled its way onto the roof of the van. Remaining still, the men focused their entire being on Harold’s head and upper body, their feet gripping the van as tightly as possible.

  Steadying himself with only his arms, Harold wobbled as his slim chest and stomach could barely hold his weight, his head trembling with his temples moving with their muscles.

  (Harold) You know, you guys are complete jerks! Because you guys completely demolished me inside of the tunnel! I can't even walk!

  The three men tilted their heads to the right, all in unison as their breathing slowed down to a snail’s pace. Seeing that Harold wasn’t posing any threat to them, Miles sharpened his eyes at the lich’s head, his arms folding onto one another.

  Harold steadied his head as he looked towards the man, his entire body now remaining still.

  (Miles) How did we demolish you? Your body wasn’t present.

  (Harold) Oh, I was present! But because you guys went all gung ho for a bunch of wolves, it’s going to take a much longer time for me to regenerate!

  (Miles) Where then?

  (Harold) What do you think?

  Stan widened his eyes as he continued to stare at Harold’s face, putting both of his hands on the back of his head. His body shaking slightly from the way his eyes continued to stare into the abyss, despite looking at Harold, Stan’s feet started to loosen the grip he had on the van.

  (Stan) There was one wolf that had more tar than usual…

  (Harold) I hid in that wolf, but you went gung ho on that wolf! Good thing you didn’t shoot at my heart.

  (Miles) Or maybe we will, you incel.

  (Harold) What was that!?

  Miles folded his arms near his stomach, not even bothering to pce his hands on his holsters anymore. Letting out a sly smirk, the corner of Miles’s right lip reached to the edge of his ear, his smile causing Harold to grit his teeth immensely.

  Not only was Miles mocking him out of spite, but Stan and Luke also let out smug grins too. For Stan, he put his hands on his waist, his eyes nonchant as the corners of his monolid eyes started to squint at the legless boy.

  Luke meanwhile, covered his mouth with his right hand, barely containing a ugh as his whole body shook.

  (Stan) Just because you weren’t good-looking with women doesn’t mean that you should take your anger out on them.

  (Harold) You don’t understand!

  (Luke) I think … chuckles … that’s why his blessing is wolves. He wanted to be seen as an alpha and probably wanted … giggles … to lead a pack of his own … chuckles.

  (Harold) You … you … you …!

  Harold ground his teeth, his entire head bulging with veins as his white skin was being sprouted against his skin. Straightening his neck, he cleared his throat as his eyes started to turn slightly tarshot bck.

  (Harold) You honestly think I’m an incel!? Me!? An incel!? Just because I don’t have many women falling head over heels for me doesn’t make me some incel! They just don’t understand the value that I have, that’s all! I’ve seen men who are scumbags bag the best girls that I y eyes on, and do you know what I could bag!? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Is it me!? Is there something wrong with me!? Am I that hideous or ugly to look at or be near with!? I was practically harmless with women, yet they treated me like I was some sort of creep or weirdo because I had no social skills! But for some reason, they go for the men that would beat them! All I ever did was be nice to them, yet they wanted a man that could do better! Better!? Why better!? Yet those women always say stuff like “Oh why can’t I find a good man?” or “I just want a man to treat me right”! Well, boohoo little whores! I hope those four kids out of wedlock will someday dawn upon you! You know what!? Why do I bother going for those types of women!? Or even women at all!? Do you think a guy like me could bag a woman in this day and age!? Welp nope! Not because nothing’s wrong with me! No, no, no! It’s because they could settle for something better! Does that expin to you why I see women as nothing more than just annoyances? I simply just exist and they wouldn’t take a dime of the day! It’s a good thing that I befriended Gary a long time ago because, believe me, I would’ve gone crazy a long time ago! Does that expin well for you fuckers! WELL DO YOU!!?

  (Luke, Miles, Stan, and even Jack) … incel …

  (Harold) I’VE HAD FUCKING ENOUGH!!

  Harold’s arms that held up his upper body soon started to slowly lift from the ground, his body slowly moving upward.

  Steam poured intensely out of his torso, the burning steam getting into the three men’s eyes as they extended their hands outward, trying heavily to block the burning steam from their faces. Luke, his right eye barely gncing at Harold, noticed that the steam started to emit sparks of fire, the embers sprouting everywhere around them.

  With his legs fully being built up again, Harold’s eyes turned tarshot, as his frail fists were on the verge of breaking apart as his entire body clenched itself shut. Hunching his entire back, Harold let out an eerie low monotone groan from his throat, his pure unbearable anger coming out of him, causing the three of them to holster their guns.

  (Harold) I’LL DESECTIFY ALL OF YOU!!

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  (Luke’s thoughts) I guess we have nothing but ourselves to bme…

  Harold looked up towards the three men closing their mouths shut, their lips puckered up inside of their mouths as they remained still. His entire body was on the very edge of exploding, Harold began to spread his legs a couple of inches away from each other, his bare feet gripping the metal hard as his toenails started to tch onto the literal van.

  And with both his feet, he kicked off the van as he lunged his body forward to Luke directly, his eyes twitching endlessly as he extended his arms to his sides. His hands formed into fists, and Harold thrust them straight at Luke, his vocals a step forward to being teared up.

  (Harold) I’M STARTING WITH YOU!!

  Throwing his right fist at Luke, Luke activated his blessing, enabling him to automatically dodge to the right with no problem. His body moving with his gut, he slid away from the fist that was about to hit right at his right cheek.

  Because Harold is hellbent on rage, and with Miles and Stan having the advantage of a three against one, both men ran towards Harold, having with them a couple of weapons ready for hand-to-hand combat.

  (Miles) Stan, we got to back up Luke!

  (Stan) On it!

  Miles activated his blessing, blue particles emitting from both his arms as he extended his arms back the same way Harold did. With both of his wrists forming a small but sharp shield capable of stabbing and mostly for offense purposes, Miles’s body forehead already started to form sweat.

  For Stan, he pulled out a simple baton, a bck baton that most police officers use. But unlike the other batons, the front end of it was repced by a high voltage taser, the taser emitting electric sparks that caused Stan to lean his head back.

  With the two men reaching towards Harold, both were on the opposite ends of him, as Luke was gliding and sliding with his blessing unlocked, but his gliding was limited as the roof of the van was small. As Harold barraged his fist in an endless attack to get Luke to fall or get punched, it was interrupted as he caught with both of his right and left eye two other men preparing to attack.

  (Harold) Come on! Bring it! BRING IT!!

  In a rapid motion, Harold swiftly dodged both swings of Stan and Miles, his body dodging each attack that came out of their handheld weapons. Seeing that Stan cked experience in combat, Harold turned his attention towards him but kept his close eye on Miles who continued to try to nd a lucky blow.

  Grabbing the helm of Stan’s colr, Harold spun his body in a 180 twist, his eyes taking note of Luke who didn’t bother to even have a combat weapon.

  (Harold) Special delivery! HELLO!! YOU HAVE A DELIVERY!!

  Just as Harold was about to throw Stan towards the unguarded Luke, his grip on Stan’s colr being a lethal one as he kept his eye on Luke, the motion of the van that was always constantly decided to…

  (Jack) Oh shit, I think that’s the exit. Hold on, dudes!

  Swerve to the exit, as Jack jerked the steering wheel to his right, the van making a sharp turn as there were three men and a lich awaiting the new motion of the turn.

  (Miles) Oh shit!

  Everyone’s feet that were clenched onto the roof managed to find themselves gliding across the roof of the van, the metal somewhat turning into a frictionless state.

  Out of all the men out of the three that were on top of the van, Miles managed to fall as he managed to grip his body onto the van. Laying down, Miles held onto the van with the grip of his fingertips, his nails bleeding as the sudden change of movement caused him to tighten his eyelids.

  As for the other two…

  (Stan) Woah!

  (Luke) Oh no!

  Harold, who was about to throw Stan, found themselves off the edge of the van, their nding being the bck pavement several feet below.

  As for Luke, he managed to fall into the back of the van, his nding being back inside the interior of the van.

  In slow motion, Stan watched the way Harold fell, his feet about to trickle the pavement as his toenails were edging the tips of the asphalt. For Stan, his hand reached towards the edge of the van, his palms reaching out as he focused his entire attention on stretching his arm to the very limit.

  And fortunately for Stan, his hand managed to grip well on the sharp steering van, his body dangling onto the edge as he tried to find his way back up.

  (Stan’s thoughts) Oh shit, how many close calls do I have?

  But there was a problem. Because his right foot had something dangling that caused his arm to rapidly lose its grip on the van. In the present motion, Stan turned his head towards the lich that started to pull him down near the van’s tires, his strength still unmatched as he continued to twitch his eyes.

  (Stan) Can’t you just give up already? Is it an apology that you wanted?

  (Harold) Shut up! If I’m being taken down, I’m taking you with me! YOU HEAR ME!!

  Harold dug his fingernails into Stan’s meaty calves, his grip on Stan unwavering as he continued to contort his eyes with rage towards the brownish ginger-haired elf. As for Stan, his eyes were enclosed shut as the searing pain from the fingernails caused him to loosen his grip even more, his body on the verge of falling until…

  The motion of the van's steering right ceased, causing the van to return to its normal driving state.

  Miles, who held onto the van firmly with his body, let go of his hands as he felt the normal motion of the van in py. Putting his hands facing ft on the van, he pushed himself up as he turned his head towards Stan, his hand on the verge of letting go.

  (Miles) Oh shit! Stan!

  (Stan’s thoughts) I don’t think I’m going to make it.

  Just as Harold was about to pull Stan towards the asphalt, along with him…

  A sniper gunshot can be heard coming from the driver’s side of the van.

  (Stan and Miles) What?

  Everyone turned their heads toward the direction of the sniper shot, they all noticed a red-haired man hanging on the driver's side door wide open, his feet barely holding on with his right hand wielding a sniper. Followed by his left hand wrapping around the door, it looked like he didn’t aim the sniper well, as he only shot with just one arm.

  Yet where the bullet nded though…

  (Harold) coughs coughs … I hate you all … I hate you all … I hate you all so much…

  The bullet managed to nd right at where Harold’s left chest area was, lodging itself right at the lucky center. Tar pouring onto the fastening asphalt, Harold put his left hand onto where the bullet was located, rubbing the area with his fingers as he continued to cough.

  Stan’s grip was taken to a helm as Miles grabbed Stan’s right hand with both of his hands, tightening it as he put his feet on the very edge of the van. Slowly pulling Stan out of the air, he turned his head towards where Harold was dangling, his eyes sharpening at the weakening lich.

  Harold held a weakening grip on the outer edge, dangling in the high-speed air as both men looked between one another, gncing at the lich who continued to widen his eyes.

  (Miles) What do we do with him, Stan?

  (Stan) I don’t know … should we ask Luke?

  (Miles) Yeah, but where is he?

  As the two men looked around to try to find Luke, they noticed that the car was in motion despite Jack holding onto the driver’s door with his sniper. Looking into the driver’s side mirror, they found a light-haired young man with a side bang on his right eye, his left eye having a fiery red eye.

  Seeing that Luke was in the driver’s seat, having his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, Miles put his hand to his chest.

  (Miles) Oh, thank god. I thought Jack was dumb enough to let the vehicle go forward.

  (Jack) What do you take me for? Some kind of idiot?

  (Miles) A smart idiot.

  (Jack) Whatever. What do we do with sir hates-women-a-lot?

  Miles and Stan looked towards Jack, putting their hands underneath their chins as they felt the cool summer night breeze hitting their faces. Noticing that they were still on the highway despite taking the exit, Miles turned to where Luke was, seeing Luke’s face in the side view mirror as he yelled at him.

  (Miles) Hey Luke. What exit did Jack take?

  (Luke) He only took the junction to the main highway, the real exit that takes us to the tower is in a couple of minutes.

  Nodding at Luke's words, all of them, even Luke, turned their attention to Harold, his body still dangling onto the edge. Seeing that Harold is having a hard time pushing himself up, as well as trying to keep himself from falling, all of them looked down onto the passing asphalt as they saw Harold in this state.

  Harold widened his eyes at Miles, as Miles took a step back his eyes sharpened at the lich, his hands slowly curling themselves into fists as he looked at his pathetic face.

  (The Coach in Miles’s thoughts) Be the best man you can be…

  (Miles’s thoughts) How can I be a good man when the person in front of me is a psycho…?

  Harold jumped forward towards the two men, his st push of attack as his hands extended outwards, his fingernails sprouting out like knives.

  Thrusting both of his hands onto the unguarded men, Harold widened his eyes as his eyes returned to his tarshot bck stance. Seeing that the two men jumped back from the sudden turn of events, Harold pushed up his face.

  (Harold) I’LL GET THE LAST LAUGH!!

  (Stan) No, you ain’t.

  Stan pulled out a nylon rope edged in razor bdes, wrapping it around Harold as soon as he was about to pounce. Despite leaping through the air, Harold was unable to nd on the van as the force of his st push was too great even for himself.

  In slow motion, the two men only saw as Harold lept right into the fast asphalt.

  (Stan) Oh shit, I shouldn’t let him be grazed by the asphalt—

  Unfortunately, as soon as Stan gripped the nylon rope firmly with both his hands, thrusting the rope against himself to pull Harold back to them…

  An ear-piercing scream stabbed all of the men’s ears, causing everyone except for Stan to cover their ears as the pain thumped into their eardrums.

  (Harold) AAAAAAHH!!

  They heard the grazing sound of something being grated as if the flesh was being spit upon on a molecur level. Almost like the sound of a chainsaw failing to cut down wood because of the engine or chains being faulty, the hearing of skin and flesh falling off was enough to put their hands to their ears.

  The van started to contort as one of the wheels, particurly one of the bottom right wheels started to shake and wobble. Almost losing control of the van, Luke pced his right leg onto the brake pedal, but couldn’t work as something was blocking the wheel…

  Followed by the immense tightening of the nylon rope that Stan wielded in his hands, the rope being pulled towards where Harold was, which caused—

  (Stan) Holy shit!

  (Miles) Stan, get him out of there!

  Harold was on top of the bck paved asphalt as well as being grated by the van’s wheel at the same time.

  His legs were being grated first by the wheels, his feet and calves being completely and utterly shredded as tar and bone were girded against the highway.

  Soon after, his entire stomach and chest were being cheesed, slowly grinding the front side of his body. With his organs and lungs smearing a huge line of tar, it was as if his body was losing mass as his body seemed to be shredded by the tire and asphalt.

  Hearing the hellish shriek of pain coming from Harold, the only thing that Miles and Stan did was look the other way, clenching their eyes shut from the shriek. Even Luke and Jack, who were the farthest from Harold’s demise, let out a frozen shiver from their upper to lower backs, their souls unguarded from the unholy way Harold was going out.

  Luckily for them, the shrieking died down, the van stopping the rumbling from the back end of its right bottom tire.

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  (Quintiles 29, 59 / 8:54PM)

  (Luke) What have we done…

  (Miles) I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

  (Stan’s thoughts) I killed him, didn’t I? If I let go of that nylon rope then he would’ve lived, but I tried to pull it towards me…

  (Jack) I guess … we should just go towards the Zirardge building right now.

  A few minutes after defeating, or rather killing Harold, Luke and the others safely went to their normal seats in the van, with Jack being the main driver and Miles being in passenger, followed by Luke and Stan in the back.

  Not even bothering to stop and check the bottom right tire that grated Harold’s entire body, all of them looked forward with darkened faces, their faces coated with cold sweat. Jack, the driver of the van, turned his attention towards Miles, his eyes softening as he continued to grip the steering wheel tightly.

  (Jack) Miles?

  (Miles) Yeah?

  (Jack) Are we good men?

  Miles put his right hand in front of him, his right hand slightly having bits of tar as he focused his attention on his rough hand. Letting out a sigh, Miles looked towards Jack, his eyes on the verge of tears as his teeth ground between one another.

  (Miles) We … we did the best we could … if only we could’ve—

  (Stan) We’re not good men Miles…

  From the back end of the van, Stan had his head down as he put his hands inside of his pockets, his eyes soulless as he moved his upper body back and forth. Exhaling an abundance of fresh air out of his lungs, Stan’s body started to shiver coldly, his eyes glued to the floor as he couldn’t nudge his head towards Miles.

  His right pocket contained a lining edge of a rope, he squeezed it tightly, his fingertips cwing the nylon as if to imprint his DNA on it.

  (Stan) We needed to kill him, but … that’s not a death that would be best suited for the average psycho.

  (Miles) Then what is good and what is bad? What’s the worst and what’s the best we could do? Who decided that we did well?

  Miles’s throat started to tremble, his vocals holding the hellish words from coming out as put his hands down onto his thighs, his palms facing upwards. Looking down to see his palms shaking, his fingers on the verge of curling up to form fists, Miles’s breathing started to thin, his upper back pinching him like crazy.

  Jack, noticing Miles’s distraught nature, saw a high-rise building, a building pitched in all bck with many tinted windows on the top floors of the building.

  (Jack) Sorry to break your existential crises, but is that the Zirardge building? I know every building to me looks the same but it's the highest tower, right?

  Everyone turned their attention towards the building that was the highest they saw, the orange night sky covering the entire night sky. Turning both his hands so that his palms were holding his thighs, Miles straightened his neck as he breathed in and out, his chest expanding more than usual.

  (Miles) Yeah. Let’s just … let’s just help Gwen and Luna…