Wound watched in frozen surprise as Cruach said that, his momentay hesitation evident in the subtle twitch of his shoulders. While she tore away part of her costume he refocused on her, attempting to amend his mistake.

"My bad, I didn't intend to-" As the sphere hurtled towards him, he instinctively swung his staff with precision, cutting it down mid-air. However, the substance exploded, dark and foul, splattering onto his clothing.

"What the fu-" Wound cursed under his breath, frustration etched on his face. The once-fluid material now clung stubbornly to his attire, hampering him and the fabric."Does this at least wash out?!"

Wound asked, his voice even if not a tinge annoyed. He doesn't expect an answer to come, he didnt plan on pursuing her further either. That misunderstanding had led to the assumption of escalation and Wound did not want his name getting out there as a blood lusted lunatic.

Wound senses an abrupt change as the blood on Cruach's costume begins to break down. Panic sets in briefly, if he loses sight of her he knew the fight would be loss, almost instinctively, he triggers the transformation, hardening the blood into a nigh-invulnerable organic forcefield on the mercenary's clothing.

In three seconds an immense weight may burden her by the from the few blood splatters on her clothing, it wasn't a crushing force at all but just a weight, like dragging around a ball chain.

Wound would seizes the opportunity, drawing his bow with precision. His blunted arrow, enhanced invincibility and weighing 500 pounds, Wound fires it through the smoke, aimed directly at Cruach's shield. The impact would cause a thunderous collision. Wound had anglrf it so the shield would absorb most of the kinetic energy but still transmitting a significant force through Cruach's arm and shoulder.

Wound, not relenting, swiftly reaches for the sling at his waist, a repository of metal marvels intent on pressing the perceived advantage.

Fable's disembodied voice resonates with a hint of amusement. "Connor, they call me. As for our little game of hide and seek, Jan, there's a reason I found you before you found me. But it seems our paths were destined to cross. Mutual curiosity is like that I suppose."

A subtle breeze rustles nearby, as if Fable's presence is woven into the air itself. "Your proposal of a crew and all the fixings for our venture, I'm intrigued. Incentive or not, I'm drawn to potential chaos and the dance of shadows. Count me in, Jan. Just remember, my talents lie in subtlety, not grand reveals. The unseen hand guides more effectively than the one in plain sight."

The eentity calmly and casually moves to lean against the wall of asphalt, seemingly undisturbed by Badger's boisterous laughter and the display of her powers. It listens intently, analyzing each symbol of Jan's words and reading every emotion etched on her face. It's as if this a silent observation, absorbing every nuance of Badger's personality and intentions.

After a moment of silence, the voice speaks again. It retains its emotionless quality, devoid of any discernible inflection.

"You have probably heard of me too, and if you have, tell me where you heard it from so I can beat the idiot who leaekd the info." This declaration was followed by a laugh of its own

Its voice remains neutral, a mere conduit for its words, and it continues, "A crew may be an interesting proposition and on the run. Need someone with brawn and brains."

The blank spot, or "Sneaky" as Badger had aptly named it, remains shrouded in silence even as the walls of concrete and asphalt rise to imprison the narrow alley. Badger's snarky comment hangs in the air, the response from this entity that had been eluding her senses.

But Sneaky remains just that—sneaky. It doesn't show any visible signs of surprise or emotion. It evaluates Badger's ability to manipulate the surrounding earth in seconds, its form seemingly wavering in and out of existence as if toying with her perception.

In the absence of any discernible expression or reaction, It's as if conversing with a void, a puzzle she can't quite solve.

"Geokinetic, you used some form of seismic or earth sense to map me out. You followed the oddity in your senses rather than the cause, clever usage I must say." When Jan asked who it was, the voice feign an indignant scoff the first sign of emotion it had during this conversation and one could have easily missed it if not paying attention. "You don't remember me? That's fair I suppose, I haven't seen you since you were a girl, then again most of our interactions involved me watching you from the closet or from under your bed. Those were the good old days.".

After some silence, no doubt the voice was laughing at their own joke and couldnt be heard doing so.

"You may call me, Fable. I'm sure you can already tell why they call me that?"

As Badger makes her way closer to the strange blank spot in her senses. She would feel the blank spot in her senses pauses in its actions, almost as if it's aware of her presence. The pause is unsettling, but when the blank spot started to move towards her general location it would be alarming to anyone else. The blank spot was in no rush at all, almosy like it was taking a casual stroll.

Amid the silence and tension, a whistling sound suddenly reaches Jan's ears. Calling it a whistle was highly generous, a whistle had a pitch and a musical touch to it, this one held none of those as if it barely existed. The whistle was nothing maintain the illusion of being something at the same time perfectly, one could call it haunting. It seems close, but it also appears to be getting fainter as she approaches the blank spot.

Finally, as she gets within reach of the blank spot, seemingly right in front of it. A voice speaks, it's a voice like no other, devoid of tone, pitch, or any distinguishing characteristics. It's neither male nor female; it's simply a voice.

"Weird, for a moment there I thought my power was utterly failing me but nope, still works perfectly. Well, not perfect evidently...you were able to find me after all. You're clearly a thinker but what kind? Not an empath, precog, or clairvoyant but perhaps..."

The blank spot remains there pondering, the voice of nothing carried no echo in the alleyways. The blank spot was standing therez but it was extremely challenging to unravel its shape or anything on its appearance.

It was like the wind itself had become a controversialist.

Judging from the way his blood was moving some of it had gotten oj the thief. The blood splatter, though partially covering her reveals her general direction she was taking next. She must have a way to navigate the smoke, likely using thermals or some other method. Wound adds a flash grenade to his mental checklist for those sorta of problems. While his blood could help him map out the area, he wasn't keen on fighting blind.

Realizing he needs to disrupt her approach, Wound reaches into a pouch at his side and empowers a handful of caltrops with added weight. Eight of them, now significantly heavier and invincible scatter across the floor in the path of the oncoming thief. This makeshift barrier should slow her down and make her movements more predictable.

With the caltrops in place, Wound doesn't waste a moment. He takes a few quick steps backward to increase the distance between them, simultaneously empowering two blunted arrows to use for later. First the smoke cannister had to go, he scooped the damn thing off the ground then launches outbthe window. In the same motion, he reaches to draw the empowered arrow to take a shot.

He was tracking her every move as she talks. As she suddenly springs into action, he doesn't have time to fire in her general direction before the canisters hit the ground. Instead, he opts for a quicker response.

Wound fires blunted arrows from his bowstring, aimed carefully at the canisters. With a swift release, the arrow strikes true, sending the canisters rolling across the room. He knows that the blunted arrows won't pierce the metal, but they can provide the momentum needed.

As the thief darts erratically, he realizes that a direct shot is unlikely, but he needs to mark the area to track it appropriately. In a well practiced move, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small, red balloon filled with his supernatural blood. He hurls it in the direction of the reception desk where he suspects the thief might be heading.

The balloon bursts upon impact, and the room is splattered with a gruesome looking spray. His intentions were to map out the area and likely mark the thief. He quickly seeks refuge behind a nearby pillar to assess the results of his actions.

Two red arrows pierce throughnthe marble floor infront of Cruach. blocking her path. Behind the mercenary was a man in sleek red plated armor over a black spandex suit, he wore a crimson mask and hood. He lowers his compound bow to quickly nock in another arrow then raised it right back at Cruach. A voice, slightly distorted by his mask, broke the silence.

"Nice night ain't it?" His tone was a blend of curiosity and confidence. "Could be less noisy, but I think you can fix that by dropping that bag?"

Between them was thirteen feet of space, with Wound standing far off to her side. Wound thought it was enough for him to aim where he wanted.

Wound, displaying quick reflexes and agility, stopped abruptly and flipped backward to avoid being caught in the ember spit. He withdrew his bow, empowered an arrow with his blood, and took aim. Without hesitation, he fired the arrow freely.

The arrow soared past Cambion, missing him narrowly, and struck the armored truck's front wheels. With a precise hit, the tire deflated with a hiss of escaping air. It was a strategic move to hinder the thief's escape.

Wound would slowly back away towards the back exit before running out entirely.

As the flames cooled and the immediate threat was averted, Wound was left in complete darkness. However, he had marked the area in his blood.

Suddenly, an unexpected object hit him square in the chest, earning a sharp whine of pain. The impact sent him staggering backward, and hitting the wall. The armor took the brunt of the hit, but his ribs har cracked under the pressure.

Wound's eyes narrowed fiercely as he swiftly took action, infecting the nearby sunglasses rack with 250 pounds of additional weight. In one fluid motion, he launched the rack back in the direction from which it had come, propelling it at twice the speed since it was virtually weightless.

Wound strapped his bow and arrow, then withdrew his mace and shield, darting forward into the darkness. He whipped his mace infront of him twice to send waves of blood splattering on the area to mark his surroundings

Wound saw the fire needed his immediate attention so he knew he had to act quickly to prevent the situation from escalating. Without capitalizing on Cambion's vulnerability, he reached for his tactical hunting knife and made long, deliberate cuts on both his forearms. Blood sprayed freely from his arms, more than any average garden hose could produce, and he directed the crimson flow onto the flames.

The liquid blood sputtered and hissed as it made contact with the burning embers, effectively smothering the flames with a cooling liquid. The fire's progression would likely be slowing but Wound would continue to spread his blood across the room.

Wound's quick retort halted by the sudden impact, felt the shelf slam into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground. He swiftly recovered, rolling with agile grace befitting a trained athlete to his feet. As he regained his stance, he locked eyes with Cambion, with practiced ease, Wound enhances his blunted arrow with 500-pound then lets it loose at the villain's shoulder. The earlier blunted arrows had been ineffective, leading Wound to believe this adversary possessed a brute rating.

A flicker of concern crossed Wound's face as he reached for another arrow, only to realize his supply was dwindling. Time was running short, and he couldn't afford to waste a single shot. In a burst of speed, he sprinted across the store, seeking cover behind the nearest set of shelves, plotting his next move with precision.

What was in this gas station that could be used as a legit weapon? The canned food? Damn it.

Wound bursts through the back entrance of the store, his movements swift and controlled. His compound bow is held in a unyielding grip, the tension of the string evident. He quickly scans the room, his sharp eyes honing in on Cambion at the front entrance.

Without hesitation, Wound releases two unenhanced blunted arrows, each one designed to inflict pain rather than lethal harm. They speed towards Cambion, aiming for his back leg and back. As the arrows leave his bow, Wound's movements are seamless, already preparing for his next action.

With practiced skill, he swiftly nocks two more blunted arrows, ready to fire again if necessary. In one fluid motion, he ducks behind a nearby shelf, using it as cover. Wound is prepared to respond swiftly to any further developments

Wound's attention was momentarily drawn towards the direction where the trash can lid had been thrown, creating a loud clang against the opposite wall. The distraction made him briefly lose sight of Cambion, but he quickly refocused his gaze as he saw the thief making a break for it.

Cursing under his breath, Wound wasted no time. He swiftly descended from the rooftop, climbing down carefully.As he reached the ground, he sprinted around the gas station, to cut off Cambion at the back entrance.

Wound couldn't help but sound almost offended by Cambion's response. He retorted, "I assure you, the plan isn't to put any holes in you. But the second, your accomplice tries to off me, I'll tip that truck over on its side."

Seeing the Gremlin creature now in the air, Wound had to think fast. He reached for four marbles, his fingers deftly charging them with weight and invincibility, making each one relative to 500 pounds. With a quick, practiced motion, he tossed the marbles in a cluster at the airborne creature, hoping to score a hit. The marbles sailed across, making an attempt to disrupt the creature's flight pattern and bring it down to the ground

Wound from his vantage point on the rooftop, hesitated for a moment as Cambion called out.

Lowering his bow slightly, Wound considered his next move. He had no intention of causing harm to someone who might not pose a serious threat. Instead, he called out in a measured tone, "Come out from behind the truck, and let's talk this out. I'm not here to hurt you."

However, if Cambion remained hidden, refusing to reveal himself, Wound was ready to take a different approach. He reached into a pouch on his belt and retrieved a small marble. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the marble sailing toward the truck, causing it to shake and tilt slightly due to its lightweight. It was a subtle display that was meant to urge the thief to reconsider his options or to come out of hiding.

Wound hadn't anticipated the arrows punching all the way through the armored truck's doors. He cursed under his breath, realizing his initial attempt had created more chaos than he'd intended.

Hearing the colorful exclamation from the thief, Wound couldn't help but offer a wry apology, "My bad on that one man, forgot it had a little power behind it. You and your friends wouldn't happen to be brutes by any chance?"

Wound's attention shifted to the Gremlin-like creature flapping around. Hitting something so small would be a challenge, he decided to focus on the larger target.

Wound smeared his blood on the tip of another arrow, coating it until it was dripping wet. He took careful aim at the truck, his eyes never leaving the creature's movements. He released the arrow, which sailed freely toward the truck, smearing the blood across its surface.

The blood smear would start its gradual spread, bonding with the truck on a molecular level. The entirety of the vehicle was becoming a red tint. Timing that Wound would swap focus on the Gremlin in his line of sight.

Wound quietly patrolled the rooftops of the city, he couldn't help but admire the potential this new city held for his mercenary career. The presence of numerous capes meant there were plenty of opportunities to make a name for himself and get cash in his pocket, the influx of villains would be his new prey. Lost in his thoughts, he scanned the cityscape below, enjoying the calm before any potential action.

However, his moment of reflection was abruptly interrupted when he spotted Cambion and the demon perched on the truck. It was a curious sight indeed, the demon added to that curiosity. Was it a minion or a changer partnering up with a second cape. Either way, Wound needed to test the waters in this city somehow. Getting into a skirmish with potentially two high leveled villains was appealing.

Crouching at the edge of the rooftop, he swiftly loaded three arrows onto his bow, pulling it back and infusing them with his blood. With practiced ease, he supercharged three of the arrows with an additional two tons of weight. He aimed carefully and released the arrows, watching them streak through the air toward the armored truck.

The invincible arrows punched through the metal door of the truck with a loud clang, swinging the doors shut and preventing Cambion from gaining entry. Wound couldn't help but smirk at the successful shot but he didn't waste time, nocking in his next arrow and empowering it in the same motion.