Miller greeted them as they arrived.
"Welcome home," He said, and even though he was dressed in his nightclothes, the look on his face was pure ice.
"Miller," Hawthorne said nervously. "We–"
"Save it," The man snapped, then turned to the four Witnesses that surrounded him. "Get them freshened up, then drop them off at my office. We're gonna be having a long chat."
The four agents did so, and Hawthorne could only grit his teeth as he was dragged through the scanners and taken upstairs. He didn't see why he had to be punished as well when the whole thing had been Miles' fault. He was the one who had dragged them into the obvious trap, and he was the one who might as well have aged that harbor to dust. It wasn't Hawthorne's fault that his mentor was an idiot.
The agents dragged them into a darkly lit room and shoved them in. "Go get changed and wake up your friend. We'll be coming back in five minutes."
"Assholes," Hawthorne muttered as they left, then noted the gray prisoner's clothing that was rolled up for them both, alongside the curtain that was set up a few feet away. "Well, might as well get to it."
He shook Miles. "Wake up, dumbass."
"Mmh." The gunslinger groaned as he turned, but a loud shocking noise was heard, and he jolted awake. "Gah!"
"Welcome to the holding cells." Hawthorne said as he walked over to the curtain. "As you can see, they didn't take what you did too well, so now you gotta get changed."
"Great," Miles sighed as he reached for his own set. "Gonna have a job explaining this to Miller this time."
"What the fuck was that anyway?" Hawthorne asked as he finished, opening the curtain to see Miles as well. "You never quite explained yours."
"You know Kronos?" Miles said, and Hawthorne nodded. "Well, sometime after I joined, I ended up getting my hands on a piece–a relatively tiny bit, mind you–of his power. It let me reverse time to an extent."
"Then how can you accelerate?" Hawthorne asked, and Miles chuckled.
"It has the little benefit of growing whenever there's another time manipulator using their abilities." He said as footsteps began to approach, and he swallowed nervously. "Now, I believe you should get ready."
The men entered the room once more, and one of them chuckled upon seeing Miles. "Not every day you're on the chopping block, Blackwater."
"Shut it, Parker." He growled, but another man slammed the butt of his pistol into his head.
"Both of you, quiet. I don't want a peep until we get to Miller's office." He said, then grabbed Miles by his arms with another Witness. "Let's go."
"Right," The other Witnesses replied, and the gunslinger and the magician were marched to Miller's room. Miles was silent the whole time.
"Here we are," The leader said, and the witnesses thrust them to the door. "Good luck. You'll need it."
Miles offered no reply as he reached for the door, and Hawthorne could have sworn that the man was scared. His face was white, and even though he'd had his normal demeanour earlier, his face was pure fear.
Just how dangerous is Miller? He thought as they entered the room. Every damn time he comes up Miles freezes. The other Witnesses seem to be nervous as well...
"So," The man said as he drummed his fingers on the desk. He'd changed back into his officer's attire, and the glare he sent them both made Hawthorne want to shrink back. "Mind explaining what happened there?"
Miles opened his mouth, but Miller cut him off. "No, I want the magician's account. You'd try bullshitting me."
"You know I can't," Miles snapped without thinking, then gasped in pain as the shock hit him again. "Bastard."
"Keep up the insubordination and I will do a lot more then these little shocks," Miller said, and the gunslinger's eyes widened. "Good. Now then, Hawthorne, correct?"
"Yes," The magician nodded. "We had just been coming off of getting attacked by a couple of Crusaders he'd ended up pissing off."
"Why am I not surprised?" Miller sighed, then waved a hand. "Continue."
"Riiight." Hawthorne said nervously. "So anyway, some guy told us that a group of people were asking around for him."
"And you fell for it?" Miller asked incredoulously as he turned to Miles.
"I wanted to know who they were," Miles said tiredly. "And I ended up getting good information."
"Not at the cost," Miller snapped, and his hand blazed for a second before flickering out. "But go on, Hawthorne. I want to see what happened."
"Thank you," The magician said. "Now, we went, and he talked with a Satanist and his group. I don't really know all of what it meant, but it sounds like quite a few people want him."
"Who were they?" Miller asked, and Miles sighed.
"Let the man finish, and then I'll tell you." He replied. "I know you, Trevor. You'll get carried away."
To Hawthorne's surprise, the man nodded. "You're right. Go on then, Hawthorne."
"Thank you," Sam said, then went on. "He refused their offer, things escalated, and he had to accelerate time."
"To prevent capture, or life or death?" Miller asked.
"Both, in a way." The magician said. "They were going to kill me, and convert him."
"Then that explains things," Miller asked, and a grey fire burned in his eyes. "But that does not change the fact that you destroyed that harbor."
His voice changed drastically at the last part, and Miles shrank. "It was us or them!"
"But that was unnecessary," Miller snarled. "I expected better from you, for how long you've been with us."
The gunslinger said nothing at that, and Miller went on. "If it were the magician, I would give it a pass, but you're a veteran. You know time-related damage is difficult to repair."
"So that means there are worse consequences." Miles whispered.
"Correct, but before I lay them out to you, tell me the intel." The higher-ranked Witness said. "I want to see what you've got that you're so sure will get my attention."
"Our old gang lives," Miles said, and the reaction was instant.
"WHAT?" Miller shouted as he shot to his feet, and the same gray aura burst from him once more. "Do you have any idea what this means?!"
"I do," Miles said, and he seemed to find his footing again."They've joined the Crusaders and Satanists alike."
"Any Void or Chaos Acolytes?" Miller demanded, and the gunslinger grunted.
"I'm not sure."
"Still, you know what you'll have to do, if the Satanists want you." Miller said grimly. "I'd hate for you to be a turncoat after all our time together."
"You know I won't, if I'm still here." Miles growled. "But you should watch out, next time you take a mission. I suspect they'll be after your head as well."
"They can try to take it." Miller retorted. "Now then, I believe I was assigning you a punishment."
"That's right," Blackwater said, and the resigned demeanour he had returned. "Now give it to me."
"You're going after the Saint of Killers." Miller said, and Miles shot to his feet.
"No," The gunslinger whispered. "You can't."
"I can, and I will." Miller grunted, and Miles' eyes widened
"My crime isn't that big." He said. "I know everyone you've sent after that man since he became aware of the multiverse wound up dead."
"Your crime may not be drastic, but you're the only one who I trust has the skill to bring him down." Miller replied. "I recommend abusing every trick you have in your arsenal. Your time manipulation is useless here."
"Right," Miles swallowed, then nodded nervously. "Fine, I'll do it. Not like I have much of a choice. Hawthorne?"
"He's not allowed to help." Miller said. "But he will report the result."
"Great," Miles groaned. "Am I dismissed?"
"Yes, you are." Miller said. "More details for you are in the armory. Good luck."
With that, the two left.