Operation: Sequence Break

"I dunno', man. Something feels off about this." Thomas mumbled to himself as he and his partner Mike walked along the concrete balcony of a three-story apartment complex's top floor. "Fish always does what the boss says. He doesn't have a choice, for Christ's sake."

"I know." The dark-skinned police officer grunted, wearing a basic black zip-up hoodie over his police uniform and bulky torso. "I'm thinking he might've done something to himself."

"Boss said he wasn't allowed to kill himself, either. Remember? The prick tried to slit his own throat after he saw what the boss had done to his wife, but we both say what happened there."

"How could I forget? I still think about it every now and then. Trying so hard to end it all, but his hands just couldn't make it happen. Gives me chills." Mike chuckled. "And that was my first day on the job, too."

"Oh, yeah! Wow, I can't believe it's already been three years since then."

"You're preaching to the choir, buddy. Time flies when you're having fun."

Tom and Mike stopped outside of room 321.

After the fair-skinned officer pulled out a set of keys from his jacket pocket and found the correct one on the ring, Tom stopped his hand an inch away from the door's handle as he noticed something odd.

"What's the hold up?" Mike asked, leaning forward to get a look.

"Shh!" Tom hushed and held up a hand, watching as the knob gently vibrated every few seconds. "Do you hear that?

It was very faint, as if far off in the distance, but when the two of them listened close enough, they could hear a low thrumming sound that accompanied the vibrations they saw.

Without warning, the next thing Tom knew was that he was being grabbed by the collar from a black soot-covered hand that had exploded through the center of the door, causing Mike to stumble backwards and reflexively cover his face to protect himself from the splintery debris.

The hand now balled-up with Tom's hoodie pulled itself back into the hole it created faster than either of their eyes would've been able to register, slamming the muscular officer against the damaged door and sending him tumbling backwards against the balcony's steel railing.

The rest of the door seemed to shatter on impact and a massive cloud of ash escaped from the entryway.

Mike quickly composed and readied himself as he drew the handgun from the holster on his hip and pointed it at where the door once was, while Tom was coughing and struggling to get back on his feet because of the pain that wracked his body.

"Drop it!" A woman said through bright white teeth that were ground against each other as she stepped out from the darkness and onto the balcony , which along with the whites of her furious eyes, were practically glowing in contrast to the layer of black dust that was completely and utterly caked to her slim but athletic figure.

To Mike's astonishment, his hands instantly relaxed and the gun fell from his clutches, dropping to the ground and firing off on impact.

BANG!

"My arm!" Tom screamed, clutching his right bicep as blood began seeping into the fabric of his jacket's upper sleeve.

"What the-... Who the hell are you?!" Mike shouted, taking a step back as a deep sense of fear began to creep into bones.

"On. Your. Knees." She spat, ignoring his words. "Both of you!"

Their bodies began to reply without hesitation.

Mike quickly dropped to his knees with his back completely straight, groaning as he struggled in vain against his own body's involuntary movements and the following paralysis.

Tom, in too much agony to fight back with the same willful resistance, felt his muscles forcibly shift him upright and onto his knees in the same position.

Sitting looking up at the strange terrifying woman, each of them wondered how they were about to die.

Mike seemed ready for it, biting his tongue as he awaited her to draw the gun on her calf.

Tom, however, had tears streaming down his face while he whimpered some incoherent gibberish about wanting his mommy.

"Omie, how much time do we have left?"

Mike cocked his head, a hint of confusion adding into the hateful expression on his face.

"Shit..." She said, as if talking to herself, her own rageful expression fading and being replaced with one of defeat, then looked into Mike's eyes. "These two, are they users? ... I see."

The woman blinked, and Mike felt some kind of shift take place.

He wouldn't be able to describe what exactly happened if anyone asked him, but he noticed that the once-open hands hanging down beside her midsection had instantly become slightly elevated and balled up into fists.

"Grab a hold of your weapons."

Their bodies dutifully obeyed her words.

Mike reached forward and picked up his smoking gun from the ground while Tom undid the strap on his holster and brandished his own.

"Put the barrels in your mouths."

Both of their eyes widened with panic, helplessly watching themselves slide the steely black ends of the guns into their mouths.

Mike winced at the intense heat of the metal on his tongue, then bit down hard on the gun out of spite and looked up to the grinning psychopath that had a power over them that was all too familiar, only he'd never experienced what it was like to be on the receiving end of it to this degree.

"Smile." She hissed, the one on her face growing wider as the word escaped her lips.

Mike felt the muscles in his mouth contract, opening up around the gun into a wide and joyful smile.

Tom experienced the same thing, only he began sobbing harder at the horror of his situation and from the devastating wound in his arm.

"Pull the triggers."

As adrenaline pumped through their trembling bodies at a rate it never had before, they watched the hammers of the guns cock back, seemingly in slow motion.

Click-Click...

After keeping their eyes closed for quite a while, Mike and Tom eventually opened their eyes and realized that they were still alive, and found that they had complete control of their bodies once again.

While Mike exhaled the breath he'd been holding since brought to his knees and took the gun out of his mouth, Tom let out a loud wail and began sobbing uncontrollably as he collapsed and curled up into the fetal position.

The woman sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction, opening up her hands and letting the bullets from their pistols chime against the concrete floor as they fell from her grasp.

"Now, sleep." She said, looking Mike in his eyes.

They glossed over and closed, his body falling limp in suit.

Tom fell silent as he too lost consciousness.

The tall, ash-covered woman took a moment to savor the fresh air, as well as her victory over whoever these two puppets were.

"Cunts." She chuckled.

"That was cruel, Trixie." Said a short and very tanned woman with a pink pixie haircut above her striking face as she walked out from the cloudy doorway of Lawrence's apartment, her tone a bit more than disapproving of her Master's actions while her body was completely devoid of any of the earlier explosion's residue. "I mean, I get it, we kill people for a living, but what you just did was... Wrong." She said, stepping beside the dirty woman and giving her glowing pink eyes a blink.

The ash that coated Trixie's body quickly dispersed and disintegrated around them.

"They're lucky I didn't kill them." Trixie said with a flat tone as she rubbed her cheek. "An 'authorized user' is just as dangerous as a standard one."

"That's not my point." Omicron said, crossing her arms over the large, jiggling breasts that were contained in a skin-tight, bright pink, latex bodysuit that cut-off just above her elbows and knees. "What you just did was no better than what the people we're after do to their victims."

Trixie ignored her comment as she reached for a pocket on her hip containing her phone, then pulled it out to check the time.

"Twenty minutes, Omie." She whispered.

Her genie sighed, impatiently tapping an index finger against her arm. "We really screwed the pooch on this one, huh?"

"I'm starting to think Delta knew exactly what he was sending us into. Why else would he have a Cerberus on stand-by for a simple extraction?"

"I-... I guess I didn't put two and two together, on that one. You might have a point." Omicron said, her eyes widening.

"And when does one operate without her sisters present?"

"... Never."

"Looks like the Pillar of Duty set us up." Trixie seethed between grit teeth, watching as the digital clock on her cellphone went up by another minute. "Who did you say his last Command was directed to?"

Omicron glanced down at the ground as her bright pink eyes flickered with activity for a moment.

"Matthew Woods. Thirty-two years old. Lives in an apartment with his sister on the other end of the city. Owns a comic book store several blocks away from there. Hosts a Castles & Conquerors game at that shop every Sunday at noon. He is there now."

"Alright." Trixie sighed. "So, the majority of Lawrence's Commands were set to start at that same time... Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"If you mean, can we get there and neutralize him before the final Command takes place in the hopes of saving the city? If so, then yes. If you're about to ask me if I can get us there in less than eighteen minutes and twenty-three seconds, I'd say... maybe?"

"That's better than nothing." Trixie said, then hopped up on the railing of the balcony and bent her knees in preparation for her next move. "I'll leave the logistics up to you."

In the next instant, Omicron vanished, Trixie's eyes and hair became a bright shade of pink, and the expression on her pretty face flashed from angry to amused.

"I'd be scared if you didn't!"

The young woman kicked off of the railing and shot off through Imperial City's skies at the speed of sound.