°°° Trust °°° • Kingsley Street, Northwest Philadelphia • -Colonel William’s Residence- Before Sean left on Sunday, he had met with the Colonel, and they’d had a little chat about the future. Sean had further explained what Karen had already told her granddad. With his mother’s situation, it was a fact that his future was in his hands. He had very few options, and all of them seemed to require him to be a working man. He didn’t like the idea of dropping out of school, nor did he like the idea of leaving school for an entire session to find something to do, make, and save enough money to take care of his mother and his fees for the next few years of his life. His father, of course, had left enough to take care of his education even through college, but it was all inaccessible till he turned eighteen, plus, three-thirds of it had already been booked. Although the Crest Care hospital management had collectively decided to slash off 45 percent of the bills as a bribe

°°° Guilt of Love °°° Opening his eyes Colonel Williams found himself on the bed of his host, his arms wrapped around her body. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her neck. He looked up at the ceiling and allowed his thoughts to wander, allowing himself to explore his feelings at the moment. His eyes suddenly widened as he remembered something. He had promised Karen that he was going to get back home in time to watch Sean’s Inner Ring battle. "Oh crap," he whispered as he turned his head to the alarm clock on Colonel Jennifer’s lampstand. It was already a quarter after nine in the night. "How could I have let my guard down so easily?" he grumbled and rushed out of her bed to put on his clothes. After gathering his things, the Colonel quickly but silently left the room, trying not to wake Colonel Jennifer. Running to the living room, he quickly put on his suit again. In a few minutes, he was done and was about to open the door when he heard someone clear their throat

°°° Watch Your Tongue °°° • Central City, Philadelphia • The early hours of Tuesday morning were oddly misty. The howling winds were an uncommon phenomenon during the summer. In a rented apartment with the three fellows he had picked to keep him company, the bald Russian mafia boss, Boris Romanoff, sat in the living room watching the news with a cup of hot chocolate in his hand. "Good morning boss," the blonde Russell greeted me as he entered the living room. On the table, Boris had littered a number of newspapers, all of which held a similar headline, the same as the news highlight the newscaster was breaking down. The topic of the attack was a number of military personnel. "Who the fuck is dumb enough to attack the military, though?" Russell laughed and sat down. "I mean, don’t they realize that they would be starting a war with the government?" I mean, these aren’t cops. The government will definitely be pressured to act. "Whoever ordered the attacks and the ones tha

°°° The Magic of Mind °°° • Central City, Philadelphia • In the apartment Boris and his underlings had rented, Boris had just finished brunch when Russell returned from the door with the Mohawk lady, Andrea, and the brown-haired fellow, Jeffery. They had left on Tuesday morning and spent the whole day, as well as the following day, Wednesday, on the streets, waiting for The Wall’s messengers to contact them concerning the hunt for the Colonel they were after. "So… who is it?" Boris asked before they could even greet. "Straight to the point... heh... the boss is really tired of this shithole we leave in," the carefree Andrea chuckled and took a seat. "So The Wall sent his guys to deliver the message. The heat on him right now is insane. The entire White Cross is trembling right now, boss. Anyway, we found Old Man. At first, they thought it was Colonel David Mark, because although Colonel Jenifer Moretti also didn’t flinch, we couldn’t find anything on her. Every time the Old

°°° Raging Bull °°° • Central Oakland, Pittsburgh • -PADomain of Warriors Tournament Stadium- In the massive building, with a thirty-five thousand sitting capacity, the announcer stood in the middle of the battle ground, announcing the battle that was to commence in a moment to the cheering crowd. The middle and upper classes both had their triple threat matches in the morning and afternoon, respectively, that day, and the victors had been decided. Now, all that was left were the tiebreaker matches. The Lower Seven versus Lower Twelve had ended relatively quickly, and the commentators had given their guess as to why. To them and everyone else that had been paying attention to Lower Seven’s previous matches, it was clear that he was a wild boar, throwing in seemingly uncoordinated hits, until he had made his opponents sure that he had no pattern to win, then he would attack them, taking them off-guard, bringing them down with skill and finesse. But today, he barely put