The Escape Plan

-20 HP
-4 HP

John was thrown backwards when Michel hit him. His body didn't go very far because, thankfully, Michel didn't seem to hit as hard as Moira or Cassandra did, but it still hurt to feel his back slam against one of the nearby, broken down cars. He watched his health drop on his status screen out of the corner of his eyes and coughed when the hit threatened to knock the air out of his lungs. He choked, only for a moment thanks to his Gamer's Body, and watched as Michel stomped towards him with a grim look on his face while the man working the Fateweaver box fiddled with more of the buttons. Even with his 'superior gaming form', catching his breath was still only like working with one lung in this barrier. The air was filled with stuffy, acrid smoke.

Taylor Rolt
Level 10 Tinkerer
<Zealot>
94/94 HP
RP: -90
Effects: None.

The one plan John had seemed quite simple. He could either try to talk Michel down and end the fight that way or get to the man fiddling with someone else’s Fateweaver box and use it to get out. He couldn't fight him. Even if John had wanted to fight Michel, and if the rumors about 'the Cabal' had been true, Michel had still been a friend to John. He wasn't about to try and fight another living being over something as simple as Mana. John regenerated Mana like it was nothing! If he could talk him down and deal with him, then he could have not only saved his life but also the lives of the other girls... or stalled him long enough to run away until Michel gave up on trying to capture John at the very least. He just had to-

"You're not going to outrun me, John," Michel grunted as John's eyes flicked over to the side and glanced at one of the possible alleyways he might have been able to duck into before Michel suddenly appeared there. The air shimmered and wavered in front of John's escape route as Michel walked out of the thin air right in front of it and continued approaching the young gamer. A small, green glow shimmered from one of Michel's fingers as a single ring made itself noticeable for just a second before it disappeared. "I can see you thinking about running, John, but I already planned for that. Come here," the large, blond giant growled at John as he approached and reached out again with one of his large, meaty hands.

"Wait!" the young gamer cried and pushed up from the car. He stumbled for a couple of steps, lurching in the direction of the man with the Fateweaver box, and held his hands up placatingly between the two of them. "Alright? Just wait! You don't have to do this!" There was a moment of pause where Michel hesitated before he took his next step, but he didn't stop walking, so John didn't stop stumbling away from him. He kept staggering towards the box. "You said it yourself, right? You like me, because we are friends. I'm sure... I can..." he was grasping at straws, straining already to think of anything he could say to keep his own buddy from killing him. "I can help you!" That made the blond giant stop. Taylor, the tinkerer, looked up from the metal box for a moment as John spoke, but neither of them said anything yet. "If you need Mana, then... maybe I can donate it... or help you find somebody else to give it. You don't have to take it from people, Michel. You can-" Michel interrupted him before he could finish.

"No," Michel all but spat the word out as he spoke. He was curt and went straight to the point, clenching his fists at his sides while John quivered at his tone. "It's not just donations, John. We need Mana, we need workers, we need..." he let in a slight pause as John tried to speak up, but there wasn't really anything for the Gamer to say. "We need souls." John swallowed and Michel took another step towards him. "You can't donate what we need. I'm sorry."

That last part made John's heart sink. He could feel his chest burning like Michel had just said something to try and hurt or anger him, but John **** himself not to retaliate and swear at Michel. If he was going to talk his way out of this, or stall him, then John needed to remain calm.

He had to remain calm.

"So that's it then?" John glanced at the box. He was only a dozen feet away from it and almost close enough to reach it and then start trying something before Michel could reach him. He wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to work the box, but it had to be better than trying to fight someone four times his level! "You're going to trick me and then abduct me, just like that? Has anything you've told me over the past week been true? Were you actually being followed by someone with a gun or was that just another ploy to try and get me to trust you?! Do you do that for all the people you kidnap?!" John snapped at him... but Michel didn't answer. His silence was telling enough.

Less than six feet away from the box. It would have to work.

Fuck staying calm. Stay-

"You know what, Michel..." If he left, it meant that he was leaving the girls behind too... but they had already tried to kill him multiple times. More than that, everyone was more than twice his level. He couldn't fight them. The girls stood more of a chance of surviving than he did. "You may not be willing to let me go or let me join you... but I'm sure as hell not going to let you take me, you son of a bitch! I'm-"

"You're not leaving, either," Michel snapped, and then once again, he appeared right in front John's escape route. The large blond giant towered over the young gamer as he turned to try and run to the Fateweaver box. He didn't shove John away this time, or attack him. He just stood there staring at the young gamer and looming over him as he lifted one foot up...

...and then brought it crashing down right through the top of the metallic barrier controller. The little Fateweaver box exploded into a thousand different pieces with Michel's single stomp, and the Cabalist Taylor who had been working on it jumped backwards in surprise. The world around them shimmered and twitched at the sudden violation to its connection, flickering weakly for a moment as the sky shifted away from the angry red darkness that pervaded the area and into a gentle blue color... before it hardened and solidified once more. The skies darkened once again and then boomed thunderously as trails of lightning connected through the various plumes of smoke stretched up to the sky, and John watched as the other low leveled Cabalist scurried back out of Michel's way while the fighter stared down at John. Taylor's large, black, metal rifle swung wildly from his shoulders as he kicked away from the two of them. He was watching the both of them with wide, bright, green eyes, but he wasn't getting involved.

Taylor stayed out of it, either on Michel's orders or out of respect or fear.

"This only ends in one of two ways, John." Michel stepped right up to stand in front of John. His large, black, kevlar uniform pulled taut around his massive form as John stared at him, **** to stretch nearly to its limits whenever Michel simply breathed. One of his meaty hands hovered around the pommel of a large, military knife for a moment before he continued talking.

"Either I win... or you do." he said and clenched his hands into a pair of fists.