"Dear friends, I urge you as strangers and exiles to abstain from sinful desires that wage war against the soul. Conduct yourselves honorably among the Gentiles, so that when they slander you as evildoers, they will observe your good works and will glorify God on the day he visits.
Submit to every human authority because of the Lord, whether to the emperor as the supre authority or to governors as those sent out by him to punish those who do what is evil and to praise those who do what is good. For it is God’s will that you silence the ignorance of foolish people by doing good. Submit as free people, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but as God’s slaves. Honor everyone. Love thy brothers and sisters. Fear God. Honor the emperor." -1 Peter 2:11-17
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{3:27 A.M.}
[Faithful Friends Firehouse]
Inside the quiet firehouse, Abby smiles under the protection of her brand new ho.
The tank’s painted on eyes are looking at the view of the descending moon through the open, broken off corner to the building. A few flakes of the falling magic snow manage to find their way in through the damaged roof.
The unrelenting mating calls from cicadas and grasshoppers can be heard through the quiet night until suddenly a free falling Apache Helicopter zips by.
*CRASH!*
From the sa broken opening in the firehouse the flash from the destructive crash can be seen. Abby continues smiling while the explosion outside makes the ground shake underneath the stored war machine inside her bricked protection.
Atop the firehouse, the twin DæMons, wearing their matching Money Tree cloaks, covered in their similar SanguineSoulSeiõrShields, land softly after their own flight, and look down upon their chaotic work with snickering grins.
They take deep breathes of the late night/early morning air, paired with the electrical fire and smoke from the crashed helicopter.
MaMmon DæMon: "Do you suppose the Yang Vessel sohow knows the ’objective’ of our Holmgang, and he was relatively training Skalmönd in secret?"
MamMon DæMon: "I know for absolute certainty he was.
When I had t him the other day, sohow he had already known of our plans of a contest and was brimming with confidence about it.
I don’t have the slightest idea how, because even with Nye omnipotence or any forms of foresight, our movents should be completely classified only to us."
The impact from the crashed helicopter has broken open the aircraft’s fuel tank and the highly flammable liquid has sprayed, wetting the nearby grass and dirt. The fires continues spreading with ease.
MaMmon DæMon: "It’s all quite beautiful, isn’t it?
The fixating sight of a crash.
The echoing sounds of an explosion.
The sll of fire burning.
Destruction surely is more satisfying than creation."
MamMon DæMon: "It is.
Unfortunately, we only feel this way due to the warrior blood given to us by our Hell burning mother."
They both deactivate their double layer gold SanguineSoulSeiõrShields before jumping off the roof of the two story building and landing on their feet at the sa ti, kicking up dust.
The two identical won walk in unison through the flas, approaching the broken cockpit portion to the crashed heli.
MaMmon DæMon: "Originally, I figured the pilot would be the first casualty to this war his own side started...but that’s quite the lucky eye ability he has."
A few yards from the total wreckage, there is the pilot, Shenron 2, laying on his stomach in the grass, fire quickly growing around him.
However, around the immobile human is what appears that be a giant soap bubble.
As the flas get closer, they don’t pop the safety bubble. In fact, the spreading fire keeps it’s distance.
A scared blue, non corporeal aura passes through the pilot’s face covering helt and the man weakly attempts to get up, but fails.
MamMon DæMon: "Hmph, that is a quirky ability to say the least.
Seemingly no offensive threat."
The struggling man’s chest hits the ground and he breaths heavily. One single piece of his helt falls off, revealing the man in danger has had a left alien symbiote gifted to him. The IceEye is in 2nd Stage, releasing the sa worried blue aura that was flowing through his helt.
MamMon DæMon: "An indestructible bubble, blown from the pupil of the symbiote. It covers the host and protects the both of them from any damage."
Struggling to keep his current blurry consciousness, the man with the codena "Shenron 2" sees both his beautiful attackers approaching him from the inside of his bubble.
Shenron 2: "Sher...iff..."
MaMmon DæMon: "However, it appears that is the only provided protection, outside damage.
Crash force still has an impact on the human body.
Without a SoulSeiõrShield, I can’t imagine how the boy is still breathing in there."
MamMon DæMon: "He must’ve barely survived and now his poor little symbiote is clocking overti to not only keep his ability active, but also heal the host’s bleeding internal organs."
As the DæMons stop in front of the giant soap bubble covering the vulnerable soldier, MamMon DæMon covers her green nail painted right hand with her respective golden SanguineSoulSeiõrShield.
MamMon DæMon: "Yes, ’poor little symbiote’ indeed."
She throws a magic covered right haymaker and almost like plastic, the bubble stretches but the witch’s strength easily makes the protective barrier *POP!*.
Once his ability is defeated, the crashed pilot has a jolt of pain go through his temples and down his spine. The aura fades, his IceEye returns to it’s base-kit, and he passes out.
As if they were not speaking to each other but soone else, MamMon picks up the first PoW to the war while MaMmon turns around.
MaMmon DæMon: "Isn’t that right, ’Sheriff’?"
Where the twins were just standing on the roof, an angry Sheriff Jesse Jas is now perched.
Her trench coat flowing in the wind. The woman’s scar is twitching as she clenches her teeth, looking down at her enemies in the process of kidnapping one of her soldiers.
Jesse Jas: "So there are two of you after all?
Put him down.
He wasn’t part of an offensive mission.
That was only a scouting chopper."
Both DæMons chuckle while hearing the command and explanation.
MaMmon DæMon: "Isn’t he the one who launched all those missiles I had to shoot down earlier?"
Jesse Jas: "I ordered it!"
MamMon DæMon: "It’s too late now, 2nd Gen.
Today will be the perfect test for my new team, as well as a good way to study Skalmönd’s possé a little more closely.
All sides have now been involved, and this ’scrimmage’ of war has already begun, my dear."
As if insulted by the response, the irritated sheriff’s nose twitches above her lip scar.
Jesse Jas: "What do you an by ’scrimmage’, this is a real war.
I swear, if you don’t drop Pon-... Shenron 2, and if you don’t surrender now, all your soldiers will die and your land will be seized by the end of the day."
Totally unintimidated by the threat, smiling MamMon, with the unconscious man over her shoulder, shakes her head in dejection as the twin sister rubs her eyes and yawns.
MaMmon DæMon: "So you do admit we are currently at war, no?
And you also admit, it was you who initiated that air drone strike earlier in the night..."
The blonde woman smirks and gives a harsh blue Below Sanpaku stare through the cowgirl on top of the firehouse.
MaMmon DæMon: "...’Ms. Jason."
The true na reveal seems to set off sothing in the cowgirl’s head. Her golden pink SanguineSoulSeiõrShield quickly activates and bursts brighter than Shelly’s.
Rage filled tears coat her tired pink eyes.
Jesse Jas: "Don’t call that!"
Without much effort, MamMon DæMon tosses the grown, unconscious man over to her sister who one arm catches him,then holds a SanguineSoulSeiõr covered pointer and middle finger up to Shenron 2’s exposed neck.
MaMmon DæMon: "We were planning on keeping this one alive, but if you want, we can take the eye ability to soone else for our hubby to copy later on."
Seeing the nails from the two fingers already drawing blood from the pilot’s bare neck, the commander and chief of Vinland deactivates her SanguineSoulSeiõrShield.
Both DæMons smile at the submissive cooperation to their strategic hostage situation.
MaMmon DæMon: "Good.
Now turn around, nice and slow."
Jesse Jas takes one last look at all three of the individuals, but takes the longest stare on the hostage pilot.
Finally, she does as she’s told and slowly turns around, showing them the badass illustration on the back of her trench coat.
MamMon DæMon: "Here’s how this will work.
We won’t hurt this young man who clearly ans more to you than the rest of your military put together."
Jesse Jas: "He’s loyal!
Nothing ans more in this world than loyalty!"
MamMon DæMon: Hmm. That’s sothing we see eye to eye on.
Now, I can understand why saying this sounds asinine, but we aren’t truly your enemies.
So I’ll warn you again, ’Sheriff Jesse Jas’.
’If you do not take that young boy out. The one whom you’ve been ’infatuated’ with, he will flatten all your territory and your people before you will realize it."
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