"No way!" Dita gasps in horror as Aelita slams her to the ground. The ebony girl offers no resistance.
"Now, you dirty little rat," I say, "you're going to pay. Restrain her, Aelita."
Aelita twirls her vine tentacles, gagging Dita's mouth and tying up her arms and legs.
"What now?" Aelita asks as she touches my chest, healing me.
"Well we wait for Mr Anwar to kick Lady Caitlyn's ass and then we go home," I answer.
"Well in the meantime perhaps somebody can hand me at least a health potion," Alice grunts, "You're not the only one with a hole on her stomach."
"Help her, Aelita," I whisper after I see her hesitating, "She saved my life."
Aelita's restorative spell heals Alice quickly, the glaring hole on her stomach hastily closed.
"Tiryag: Eagle Talon!" Mr Anwar shouts outside, as a huge eagle drops Lady Caitlyn-now back in humanoid form-to the rocks below.
"It's over," Mr Anwar calmly says, "You clearly are not powerful enough to defeat me."
Lady Caitlyn is heavily wounded. Her blood oozes from her gash wounds. She is barely supporting herself with broken legs.
"Until then," she mutters, then turns to a black bat, escaping the scene.
"Mr Anwar," I say after Aelita lifts her barrier.
"Vio. Glad to see you sa-" Mr Anwar flinches. His eyes catch the presence of Alice.
"Your power is formidable. Who are you?" he asks.
"I am–was, actually–an assassin of the Empire," she answers.
"And I take it you betrayed the Empire?" he asks again.
"Yes," there comes Alice's decisive answer.
"Then, perhaps, you can bring us to Lady Caitlyn's HQ," Mr Anwar orders.
"Well, why not?" Alice replies.
Alice leads us to a secret underground entrance. "Be careful, there are lots of traps here, yeah gotta push this button," Alice warns.
"This scorpion thingy has to be clicked, and then this barrel has to be moved here, and voila! I present you Lady Caitlyn's HQ!" Alice cheers.
"It seems like our reinforcements have just arrived," Mr Anwar remarks, "Charles, Arctus. This can be our key to winning the war."
"I understand that, Anwar," Mr Charles replies, "I suggest you, Arctus, and I go check the intelligence. Meanwhile, the Twelfth here rescue the Dolls."
"Agreed. Where is the intelligence data, Alice?" Mr Anwar asks.
"Go straight from here to the main storage room–there are lots of stuff there, but mostly junk–then to the left, that's where the real useful data is," Alice answers.
Mr Anwar, Mr Charles, and Mr Arctus leave immediately.
"I'll lead you to the Dolls; but I must warn you that the sight isn't going to be pretty," Alice says.
"We're ready," I reply confidently, "Show us."
We walk quickly through the corridors, reaching a huge, metal door. Alice swallows her own spit as she opens the door. I can hear muffled screams and moans from the room.
The sight is truly horrible: dozens, no, hundreds of the so called Dolls are locked up in individual barn-like rooms. Collars decorate their necks and they wear little clothing. What little sanity abuse has left them must have been sapped by the damp air.
Many have whip marks on their bodies, or multiple bruises, or even knife wounds. There are a plethora of race and age here; even, gosh, underage teenagers!
There are atrocities and there are atrocities.
"Looks like dying is a better option than getting locked up here," I comment. My teeth grit. Killing is a matter; enslaving is another.
"It is," Alice affirms, "you two okay? You look pale."
Aelita and John look like diarrhoea patients; their face barely have any colour and they are on the verge of vomiting.
"Get out," I nod. Those two don't need to be told twice.
"Just where do they get so many slaves ...," I mutter.
"Oh, that's not a hard matter," Alice answers, "You know about Madu, right? That thing is sold at around one hundred times its production cost."
"There are entire teams whose purpose is to simply corrupt the youth with them ... when they go bankrupt, they sell their sisters, mothers, cousins, and eventually themselves. Their target is nobles; they are expensive slave material."
"Well, let's do our job," I sigh as I break open a jail door.
"Wait, no!" Alice shrieks.
"Why?" I ask confusedly. I don't hear my answer; the girl I have just released suddenly lunge at me.
"Where is Master!?" she shrieks maniacally, "Master! Give me my drugs, Master!"
Alice forcefully pushes her back, and the blonde young woman retreats behind her cell. "You are cruel! You don't give me my drugs!" she sobs.
Alice conjures the cell bars back. "That is why. Most of them have lost their minds–all they care about is their damn Madu drugs!" she hisses.
"Well, then, how the hell are we getting all of them out?" I ask.
Alice pulls my hand. Now we are outside the Doll room. "We use this," she explains as she hands me a pair of red lenses.
"Dollmakers–those people who train these Dolls–are given glowing red eyes by the Dollmaster to intimidate the Dolls," Alice continues. As far as I know, red eyes are owned by the perhaps extinct werewolves.
"I see," I murmur, "We'll get those poor souls out of misery."
"Ms Vonville!" someone greets me.
"Who!?" I instinctively shout while raising my sword.
"A Dollmaker!?" the woman shrieks, raising her walking stick. Her legs are trembling.
"I'm Violleta Vonville, leader of the Twelfth Imperial Guard Division! Who are you!?" I shriek back.
"Liar!" she hisses, "Ms Vonville's eyes are brown; not red like Dollmakers!"
"These are just lenses, damn it!" I curse as I take them off, "And you haven't answered me. Who are you!?"
"Ah, pardon me. This old woman was shocked. I'm Felicia Thompson, leader of the Irvine Special Services. Agusman invited me over here," the old brunette woman replies.
"Alright, can you help us with something?" I ask.
"That's why I'm here. I have a large force of healers behind to cure those poor Dolls," she replies.
"Alright, Madam Felicia, I suggest waiting with your team while my friend Alice and I get them out," I say. Judging from her age and frail stature, she probably can't even survive a shove by a Doll.
"Let's finish what those damn Dollmakers have started," I say as I put my red lenses back.
"I'm afraid you're wrong," Alice smiles sourly, "Even though we take down one, many more will spring and take its place."
"This is the best we can do," I mutter.