"He's at the radio station," Henry decisively concluded the moment he had time to process the broadcast.

"What? How can you be certain? Couldn't Guillaume just have… I don't know, left a message and hid somewhere else?"

"Well, sure. It's always a possibility. But knowing him, I doubt it. There's a few things that make me think otherwise."

A call to action was buzzing in the back of his mind. Typically in life, Henry found that opportunities more often slipped through his fingers than fell into his lap. Many a painful experience had made him intimately familiar with the difference, and now that the latter category was so tantalizingly close to him, the realization was steadily breaking down the inertia of accepting that he had fallen short of his own expectations, one invigorated step at a time.

With each repeat of the broadcasted message, Henry was feeling less and less dejected.

It was… electrifying. Exhilarating, almost, but instead of the sudden spikes of fearful adrenaline he had grown so accustomed to from dealing with ambushes lurking around every corner, this was more controlled. Like stretching one of those perfect stretches that loosens you up completely, ready to take on the world and everything else that stands in your way. A symphony in its own right, swelling just in time for action to take place.

He could feel the gears shifting in his mind. It felt impossible to keep still as a path forward to the finish line gradually formed in his mind. So, he didn't. As he discussed his reasoning with Layla, deliberate movements slowly accelerated into a blur of activity.

"Firstly," he began while rooting through the most accessible of the Knights' gear. "There's the bit where he said 'up from the lower floors', so wherever it might be, our direction is still the same for a while. And once we cross the main checkpoint halfway up the building, I reckon all we need to do is follow the trail of destruction."

"But that still doesn't tell us where the radio station even is. Or if he's still there to begin with. What makes you so sure?"

"The second part: I know how that gremlin operates."

Layla quirked an eyebrow in response. "…I think I see what you're getting at, but keep going so I can be sure."

"Certainly," he agreed readily. "Every single time I've ever seen Guillaume be threatened, he has always opted play it safe. Bide his time, lay low, then once he's fallen off the radar and has enough strength to counter, he returns with a vengeance and wipes the other guy off the board. It's very pragmatic, but it means he can be rather predictable sometimes. So, currently, he's in step one of that; he needs somewhere to hide. And – here's the kicker – do you know where the radio station is?"

"Obviously, no."

"Exactly. No one really does, despite it broadcasting near constantly for months on end now. With how heavily the Club patrols this area, nobody's been crazy enough to risk pinpointing it. It's quite possibly the entire organization's best kept open secret. Hell, if it weren't for the werewolves shuffling through here from time to time and forcing them to go dark, any of the boroughs would have been as valid a guess as any other. It's pretty obvious that it's somewhere in this building now, but exactly where is still up for debate."

"Now, tell me," Henry finished, "Doesn't a room so far removed from the streets it broadcasts to that nobody seems to know where it is sound like a perfect place to hide from the perspective of an organizational leader? Especially if, after everything has concluded one way or another, you're in the perfect place to organize the recovery efforts from relative safety?"

Layla opened her mouth to speak, then paused, frowning slightly. "You're sure, then?"

"As sure as I can be," he affirmed, rummaging through the oversized Knight backpack for anything of use before he ventured out to check his assumption. "Why?"

"Because it seems like a long shot, but... if you're right about this… Then we need to start packing faster."

In a single fluid motion, Layla snatched up the pack that he'd been rummaging through, looping the straps over each shoulder.

God, she makes that look easy… I know it's no longer being weighed down by the radio, but you'd think with how bulky those things are getting one on by yourself would be a little unwieldy…

"Lets go," she said succinctly. "Moonlight's burning."

< -|- -|- >

"Where are you lot off to, then?"

There was a slight holdup at the gatehouse. A few noncombatants had noticed their visible rush of activity as they exited the back areas of the prison floor, but in the moment Henry had thought nothing of it. He'd just grabbed whatever leftovers there were and made sure nothing was falling out of the pack as they made their way through the crowd.

Evidently, however, word traveled fast amidst the prisoners. Hence the welcoming party already waiting for them by the time they'd reached the main entrance. While saving their skins had for the most part cleared their rapport with the escapees, suddenly rushing off with a good chunk of looted supplies was still enough to raise eyebrows anywhere, and demanded a damn good reason for it.

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One that they, fortunately, had.

"Guillaume is in the radio station," Layla said hurriedly. "We need to get there, and quickly, so that we can kill him in time."

"In time?", the lead prisoner interrogated further. "If time's so important, surely you aren't going to need all that. Sure, he might be a Devil, but it's obvious at this point that you're one yourself, miss. As for your friend here… Verdict's still out, he might just be crazy."

"Hey!", Henry shouted indignantly.

Everyone else ignored him.

"It's not just Guillaume we need to worry about," Layla clarified. "If he's got hooligans to spare and send your way, then he's almost certainly keeping his top talent close at hand to protect him. No offense, but that raiding party is a far cry from the best he could have done."

"Eh, some taken," said the leader as he waved his hand in a so-so gesture. "But, I get your point. That doesn't answer why you need to absolutely go now, though."

"Because," this time Henry interjected with a raised voice. "Our friend Evelyn is somewhere up there, too, likely getting herself killed trying to put the fear of God back into that bastard as we speak!"

The eyes of every guard in the gatehouse went wide as several hushed conversations nearby went dead silent.

"Sorry… run that name by me again? I need to make sure I heard that right."

Henry was a bit puzzled by the sudden change in demeanor. "Uh… Evelyn, but.. why? Right now we really should be going so we can help her in time-"

The leader about-faced in a split second to boss around the two closest armored escapees.

"Don't just stand there, you two layabouts! Get that barricade down now! The rest of you, follow their lead!"

The gatehouse immediately descended into mostly organized chaos. A bustling hive of activity sprung up near instantaneously as the guards took to the order with unexpected fervor. Broken furniture was hastily removed by teams of the more able-bodied prisoners, working in tandem with each other to rapidly disassemble the shoddy reconstructed barrier leading into the stairwell.

What on Earth...?

Henry had little time to be shocked by the sudden reversal of the tensions simmering below the surface. Seeing that his orders were being taken care of to his satisfaction, the leader snapped back to them with a slight frown, though strangely enough this time, not a hostile one.

"You never said anything about your friend being the bloody Harpy of Woolwich," he told Henry sternly.

"Wait... that's what this is about?!"

"In all fairness… we never got the chance, really," Layla readily admitted. "But why the sudden change of heart? Don't you need to make sure we're not robbing you blind, or something?"

"Are you kidding?!", the man hefted his pike aside as now it was his turn to look indignant. "We'd still be in those godawful cages if it weren't for her! Not sure what caused the change of heart now, considering that a good chunk of us got put in there on her watch, but… hey, better late than never, right?"

Layla and Henry shared a look. "I… suppose so…"

The leader gave up a pacifying gesture. "Way I see it, you did right by us, she did right by us, and that makes you lot alright in my book. If you need anything before you get moving, just let us know. I'm sure any of the other mages here would be more than willing to lend a hand!"

Now it was Layla's turn to be taken aback.

"Mages?", she blurted. "You've had mages this whole time?!"

"Well, yeah," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're all mages of... some talent, at least. How else do you think we've been keeping the enchantments on this gear fueled?"

"I thought you were just… I don't know, using whatever charge was left in the Domain crystals? I was more paying attention to not getting shot, honestly."

The leader grinned. "I understand perfectly. And, you're actually a bit correct in that regard, too. None of us are blessed enough to be strong enough to fully recharge one of those, but in a pinch we're able to squeeze a bit of extra juice out of each of 'em. The ones fighting were the only ones who could do more than light a candle, but since we had a bit of time to get ready the rest of the folks who stayed out of the way were able to fit a lot of candle-lighting into each crystal ahead of time, if you follow."

Henry nodded along. "Then, in that case…" He fished around in one of the pouches he'd grabbed along the way, pulling out the handful of Fire Domain crystals he'd swiped from the pallet earlier. "Got anyone who can make something nasty with these? Doesn't matter if they burn out later, I plan to use all of them pretty soon here."

Stepping away from the wall, the leader peered in close to scrutinize each individual stone more closely. "Hmm… yeah, I could probably work something up for you myself. You looking for slow, steady burn, or all at once?"

"All at once," he clarified. "And don't worry yourself with keeping them stabl-"

Layla caught his words mid-sentence and elbowed him in the shoulder. Not seriously, but hard enough to sting and get the point across that he really should worry about his own well being.

"Ow!"

"The hearing damage is bad enough," she chastised him as he massaged his upper arm. Turning to face the apparent Fire mage in their midst, Layla added her own stipulations.

"Try to make sure they at least don't blow up in his pocket," she clarified. "This idiot can and will get himself killed if you let him."

The two of them shared a chuckle at Henry's expense.

"Loud and clear, ma'am," came the eventual reply. Quick swiping the assorted orange crystals out of Henry's hand, the three of them got to see what, surprisingly, was something rarely witnessed within Hallow London.

Some actual, proper magic at work.

Closing his eyes to concentrate, the lead escapee curled the collection of stones in his hand and started breathing in an even, almost meditative rhythm. Around them, the temperature raised by maybe a degree or two, just enough to be noticeable, as a warm orange glow steadily flowed in waves from a point close to his heart throughout his body. Slowly reaching his fingertips, it caused the handful of Fire crystals to glow just a shade brighter than they had before.

There were a lot of existing 'methods' mages used in order to cycle Domain magic through them, typically varying from person to person. Back when Henry had been avidly studying the practice in hopes of getting into Liverpool, he'd memorized countless anecdotes on the subject of how individual mages cycled mana.

Meditation-like practices were commonplace, though in general it seemed low-stress movements or patterns were mostly acceptable for the purpose of doing it. A few mentioned humming a melody, a few prolific mages from China swore up and down on tai chi, and by far the weirdest one Henry had ever heard was the one where an Earth mage could only get any work done by performing a handstand.

That people put up with antics like that in the first place showed just how useful Domains really had become to the world at large. Nigh inseparable, even.

"There," the man said at last, sounding a bit exhausted as he handed back the crystals. The orange light surrounding him faded away, leaving only the newly-empowered product to shine brighter than they'd ever before. "Hope it's everything you'd want out of 'em. They can jostle around a little bit, but if any crack, well, they're primed and ready to dump everything at once."

"Excellent," Henry responded as the last piece of the barricade dropped out of the way. He clapped the helpful man on the shoulder. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, but best of luck to you out there, yeah?"

"Likewise," came the response. "Wish I could tag along myself, but… I've got people here I need to protect. If you get the chance to finish him off yourself, tell 'im Martin sends his regards."

"I'll keep that in mind, then."

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