Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

   “You heard about the incident the other day?”

   “Yeah, I was there. I’m gonna have to work so much overtime to fix this mess. Stupid glitches making maintenance ten times more complicated. And I have to write a report to fill out the malfunction witness database. All that paperwork… Ugh, I’m already getting a headache just thinking about it.”

   “That bad, huh.”

   “It would help if we knew what was causing it. At this point, figuring out any of its patterns would be a massive breakthrough! But no matter what algorithm we use to predict when it’s going to happen next- or what it’s going to do- it always eludes our calculations.”

   “Seems to be happening more often nowadays, too.”

   “Not just that; an unprecedented increase of problems just HAD to happen right when there’s an over-nine event about to take place. So now we’re scrambling to recover the files and reestablish our connection to the void between timelines, all while preparing for another 10.63 chaos spike!”

   “‘Still can’t believe we have a whole unit dedicated to one guy.”

   “Shut up, he’s exhausting to deal with.”

   “D’you think it was intentional? Happening right before an over-nine event?”

   “It crossed my mind, but it’s never been affiliated with 10.63 before. That’s the difficult thing about it, it’s completely unpredictable. Sometimes it’ll appear to fall into a pattern for a short while, but it always changes too soon for it to be identifiable. We don’t know when it’ll strike, or what it’s going to do. The only reason it’s not always at the top of our priorities is because it doesn’t count as being catastrophic. Switching around files, deleting arbitrary information, unsorting our folders… Incredibly annoying, yes, but overall harmless on a small scale. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was a prank or a plain old glitch in our systems.”

   “You think somebody’s behind it?”

   “I don’t believe so, but we don’t have enough information to pinpoint exactly what it is. I have a theory that these ‘glitches’ are the consequences of hooking our computers into the void between timelines. Simply put, it’s unreality manifesting in the digital plane as these malfunctions. No rhyme, reason, or motive. Only chaos. Ironic, right?”

   “I’ve been here ‘round 30 years and this stuff still makes my head hurt…”

   “Hmm, must be a 10.63 division thing. The guy bends reality so often I’ve gotten used to regularly tapping into a space that operates outside of time, and the concept of quantum immortality being a legitimate power. Now that I think about it, it’s a miracle we were able to discover what he’s capable of in the first place.”

   “I heard a theory that he’s the one causing our computers to go haywire.”

   “Like I said before, the mishaps have never been connected to 10.63. He has no history as a hacker and he’s really bad with programming in general, as far as I can tell. The only feasible way I can see him being responsible for this is if he was physically near our mainframe, and the residual chaos surrounding him somehow got past our chaos interference shields and contaminated our systems. But our chaos sensors would detect him coming miles away, so that’s impossible.”

   “Somethin's still not adding up. If it really was completely random, why is it only targeting small stuff? It wouldn't know the difference between our lunch schedule and important files.”

   “Good point, but if you're insinuating it's a hacker, then you have the same problem. If they can reach that deeply into our files, then they can get a hold of much more sensitive information. Such as our bank account information.”

   “I dunno, I have a hunch that there must be some motive behind it… Back when I was an intern, we were able to eh- ‘take custody’ of this kid with very interesting chaos readings. ‘Attracted chaos like a magnet. ‘Never seen anything like it before, an' haven’t seen anything like it since. She was a smart cookie though, stubborn too, and she managed to escape after a while. She’d be an adult by now. Maybe she’s the culprit.”

   “That has to be illegal. It’s basically kidnapping!”

   “What, you think possessing enough nukes to blow the world into smithereens is legal? We’ve never been the most concerned 'bout rules, s’long as we can keep the chaos in check.”

   “Yes but- a child? How old was she when you took her?”

   “I dunno, it’s been a long time. And don’t blame me! I was just an intern, following what I was told. And I thought it was better for her to stay with us anyways. She was gonna be dealing with chaos either way, so may as well be equipped to deal with it.”

   “If she ran away, she clearly didn’t feel safe with you guys.”

   “I’ll admit, we didn’t have much around to entertain a kid. Why are you so prickly about this anyways, huh? You stalk a random guy for a living.”

   “That ‘random guy’ is a 28 year old man. A walking nuclear bomb that can explode at any moment. It’s a completely different situation.”

   “Eh, whatever. It was a long time ago anyways, an' we haven’t done anything like it since. Other than, y’know, containment procedures.”

   “Yeah, alright. I guess I already knew this job was a little shady going into it. But man, kidnapping?”

   “Don’t think about it too hard. Whatever we do, it’s always for the greater good.”

   “...You said earlier that you think the girl you kidnapped is hacking into our systems?”

   “Yep.”

   “If she was after us for revenge, wouldn’t she delete more important information? Or steal our funds? It has the same holes as any other hacker theory.”

   “Hmm, I s’pose that’s true. She was real petty though, and she could hold a mean grudge. Heh, I remember one time a technician sat her in time-out for messing with somethin' or other, and forgot about her after. For a whole month after that she spilled juice or soda or anything sticky onto his desk before his shift. We tried to lock her out of that area, but she was a tricky bugger. Eventually the guy straight up quit. I don’t judge him, heh.”

   “Well, she does sound like a probable culprit, but there are still too many missing pieces. Why doesn’t she go farther than trivial files? Why is it so random? We run anti-viruses far too often for it to be a virus, why waste her time hacking us so often? And all that is ignoring the question of ‘how’. Our mainframe is isolated from outside networks, so she would need to physically enter our facility and directly tamper with our devices. It doesn’t make sense…”

   “Yeah, yeah, I get your point. Say, how’s that defrag project of yours going?”

   “Pretty well, all things considered. The errors are impeding our progress, and the over-nine event will delay it further, but other than that, it’s nearly complete. We’re in the ‘finishing touches’ stage, which has been stretching on and on. It’s the fabric of our multiverse that we’re toying with, so we need to be extremely meticulous.”

   “How much time do you have to finish it?”

   “The deadline is currently undetermined, but the sooner the better. With the upcoming over-nine event, the best we can do is stall. Without our interference, 10.63 could easily overload the multiverse’s information capacity. That’s why it’s so important for us to monitor him and act accordingly. Once the defragmentation process is perfected and utilized, reality will be less strained, and maybe I can finally get a break. In the meantime, we can only hope our liaison at the Wall can handle the situation.”

Chapter Text

   Henry winced as bright white lights flashed into existence. A headache stabbed behind his eyes and squeezed his brain. Someone with a Russian accent was monologuing at him, but he ignored it in favor of scrutinizing his surroundings as his eyes adjusted. Dingy gray walls, security guards, a naked lightbulb. Back in jail, it seemed. He shivered; why was it so chilly? 

   “-and now we have the infamous Henry Stickmin,” the warden continued with a predatory grin. Henry tuned in as he heard his name, “you’re going to be here for a long time. Grigori, take him.”

   The guard grabbed his arms and cuffed his hands in front of him. Instead of regular handcuffs, his hands were completely encased in a metal shell. He was almost flattered by the high security. None of their precautions would be enough to keep him here- he was the leader of the Toppat Clan, after all- but compared to other prisons he’s escaped before, maybe this one would be a challenge. In fact, he was beginning to feel excited at the prospect of fleeing the complex. Something like nostalgia was weaving its way into his chest. After so many repetitive heists(and paperwork, ugh), he was due for a prison breakout. 

   As Grigori marched him through a maze of halls, Henry’s sharp eyes flicked over his surroundings. The doors to the cells were solid metal, with the exception of a slot near the bottom for food, and a small window. Beady-eyed guards were placed at random intervals, often in groups of two and three. Strangest of all, plain packages of every size were strewn haphazardly along the corridor. After an eternity in silence, Grigori shoved him into a holding cell. Rude.

   “You wait here, until cell found,” he said gruffly. 

   Henry glanced around, scanning for anything to aid his escape. There was a hatch on the ceiling, but he wouldn’t be able to reach it on his own. He peeked at the redheaded woman sitting next to him. She was lean, but muscular. Her shoulders were slumped in defeat, and her furrowed brows betrayed deep thought. She looked like she could use a friend. Not his problem; he didn’t want any unknown variables messing with his escape. He turned his attention to the more viable options.

   He could play dead; surely they didn’t waste cuffs on their dead prisoners. Just as he considered doing so, a pang racked his whole body. It jump started his headache, causing him to close his eyes to block out the irritating light. On second thought, with a high security complex such as this one, they would probably check his vitals to confirm he was truly deceased. He couldn’t fake a still heart. 

   Grigori was facing away from their cell(he must be overconfident), but with his hands still cuffed, he doubted he could fight through all the guards that were certainly out of sight. He sighed, and inwardly resigned himself to transferring to another cell. At least then he would be free of these cuffs.

(a distant burst of anxiety followed his decision, but it wasn’t an intuition ache, so he ignored it as always)

   “Pssst, hey!” a quiet voice broke through his thoughts. Henry glanced at the woman. She jerked her head towards the ceiling hatch while keeping eye contact. It seemed she wasn’t as averse to trusting random strangers as he was. He hesitated, then nodded and crouched into a lifting position. When she stepped onto his cuffs, he flung her up and forward. She wall-jumped to gain more air and  hooked her cuffs around a loose pipe. She proceeded to unlatch the hatch with her foot. While she was swinging into the ceiling, he pondered his own escape. On one hand, a convict on the loose was a very good distraction for the guards. On the other hand, if they caught her, they would be more alert than ever. 

   The ladder screeched to a stop in front of him, and he looked up to see an inviting smile. She had her legs hooked onto the ladder and was hanging upside down, her arms outstretched. He smirked and took her hands. She flung him clear up the ladder in a shocking display of upper body strength. After gaining his bearings, he broke his handcuffs on a chunk of concrete and nodded at the woman in thanks.

   Now that they were presumably allies, he considered recruiting her as a Toppat. She was fit, willing to work with others, and had a promising amount of talent. He'd consider their break out as a test of sorts. 

   They crept through the maintenance vent, and emerged in a storage room. The exit was blocked by security guards. Henry rolled to a nearby box for cover. The woman followed behind him, remarkably silent. They were facing away from the sneaky duo, watching over the cells down the hall. No one could reasonably suspect escaped prisoners would come from the storage room. Unfortunately for them, Henry never liked doing things the conventional or expected way. 

   He analyzed the situation. The redhead was strong, but she was unarmed, and therefore at a disadvantage. He could get their attention and distract them with a dance while she knocked them both out. Or maybe they could disguise themselves as one tall guy and intimidate them- 

   A tap on his shoulder jolted him out of his musings. The woman leaned in to whisper.

   “Let’s sneak up on them and choke them out simultaneously,” she suggested.

   A twinge of annoyance swept over Henry(he was supposed to be the leader here!), but he brushed it off. It was boring, but efficient. He was going to consider that option anyways. 

   She was still looking at him, and he realized he forgot to answer. An invisible vice squeezed his throat and choked out his voice. A nod would have to do. 

   The guards were talking; distracted. Their voices covered the sound of near silent footsteps. The one with a spear had a relaxed and lazy grip. Two undetected figures got in position. The clatter of his weapon dropping to the ground and the abrupt halt to their conversation were the only indications that something was amiss. No one heard nor noticed.

   Henry’s throat was still closed, so he offered a congratulatory smile and a thumbs up. If he was going to convince her to join the Toppat Clan, he needed to show her that underlings were appreciated. Happy henchmen made a happy leader, or so said Reginald. She let a small smile slip in return. 

(A distant part of Henry was glad to see that smile)

   They walked through the hallway, past countless cells. There were very few guards despite the amount of prisoners, and they were able to slip by without a hitch. He felt a little disappointed on how easy it had been to break out so far. Given the quality of the handcuffs, and their successful ambush and capture of Henry himself, he had assumed this was his first high security prison breakout. He glanced at the woman beside him. If nothing else, at least he was gaining something from this. Maybe bringing in a skillful recruit would get Reginald off his back for offloading his paperwork onto him last month. 

   At the end of the cell block awaited two locked doors. The side door on the left gave no indication of what lay beyond it, but the one in front of them had a window next to it. They peered through it together. It appeared to be a security office, with an open elevator shaft, a door leading to the West block, and- peculiarly- a ceiling hatch. He wondered what purpose the ceiling hatches provided(other than being convenient entrances for fleeing convicts). 

   Henry shared a glance with his fellow inmate.

   “If we could get you up there, you could get in, and open this door,” she said quietly. He nodded. Looks like they were on the same page. 

   He surveyed his options. Maybe the woman could throw him to the top? An ache reminiscent of a split skull blazed through his head. He gritted his teeth and suppressed a pained hiss. Despite his best attempts to cover up his pain, the redhead saw through it and gave him a concerned(and sheepish?) look. On second thought, despite her obvious athleticism, the top of the security office was very high. Henry may be thin, but he was still 6’0. He was too heavy, and the ledge was too high. 

   He had a GraviToR v2.0 on hand. She could change his personal gravity to float him to the top. Just as he was about to get her attention and hand her the device, a dizziness swept over him. The disorientation was so strong, he could hardly stand. He swallowed down the bile rising up his throat. Okay, so maybe the GraviToR was defunct? Or using it caused a discombobulation so potent, it rendered the subject unable to function? Whatever the reason, his intuition ache told him enough. 

   He could use the Force to lift his ally up to the top instead. He didn’t remember having the Force, but most of his powers manifested whenever he needed them, so this one shouldn’t be any differ-

   The woman’s eyes, narrowed with focus, was the last thing he noticed before an invisible grip tightened around his neck and stole his thoughts away. He choked. His fingers scrabbled against the empty air, searching for a way to relieve the tension. His feet left the floor. His lungs burned. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision, but before it could claim him, the pressure released and he dropped onto solid ground. 

   Henry breathed. And breathed again. His eyes watered. His head pounded.  The concrete was rough under his hands and knees. He breathed. He sat up and fluttered his hands around his throat. The bruises he expected to feel were absent. He breathed, and thought. That… was alarming. He had never met someone else with powers before. It was disturbing to realize how easily she(nearly) incapacitated him, with no warning. He breathed, and his heart finally stopped racing. 

   He would have to keep a closer eye on her from now on; she was a bigger threat than he realized. But Henry loved high risk and high reward, and this woman could be a great asset to the Clan. Besides, she didn’t know who she was messing with, so she could be excused for now.

   He shook his head to dispel his thoughts, and focused on the mission. They were here to escape, he could worry about everything else once they achieved that. He stood up and took note of his surroundings. He appeared to be on the roof of the security office. There was a guard on a nearby balcony, and it was by pure luck that he never bothered to look in his direction. 

   It occurred to Henry that his accomplice hadn’t seen him since choking him with her Force powers. He peered down. Despite the distance, her rigid posture and creased brow were easy to read. She was worried. Her foot tapped out a nervous staccato, and she perked attentively when she saw him. He reluctantly gave her a thumbs up. The reassurance that he was unscathed prompted her to smile and sag in relief. Strange. Why was she concerned with his wellbeing?

(A detached part of Henry was endeared by her concern)

   He heaved the hatch open, and hopped down. He was not prepared to land, he realized in the brief second he spent in the air. He face-planted. A short burst of snickers were quickly muffled with a gasp. He looked up to see the woman covering her mouth, eyes wide. Her hand did little to shield her furiously blushing cheeks. She was evidently as surprised by her own sniggers as he was. A part of Henry bristled at being laughed at.

(distant inner voice reasoned that she wasn’t making fun of him)

   Ignoring how hot his face felt, Henry inspected the unlabeled keypad next to the door. He shrugged and pressed a couple random buttons; his luck had gotten him this far. Two affirming beeps and a low tone accompanied the hiss of the opening door. He straightened and walked through with a smug grin, hoping she would forget his ungraceful landing. 

   Before either of them could plan their next move, the swish of hundreds of doors, the blaring alarm, and the excited shouts of freed prisoners queued the next stage of their escape. Henry smirked; finally, things were starting to get interesting. Causing a prison outbreak was on his bucket list! He stepped aside to avoid being trampled by the flood of inmates entering the security office. He noticed a Toppat among the crowd, but didn’t bother calling him out.

   “Quick, in here!” the woman jerked her thumb toward the open doorway behind her. They slipped through the left door, and immediately side-stepped behind the scattered boxes to let more criminals rush past them. He couldn’t help but stare as a 4-armed alien ran by. 

   “Hold it right there, inmates!” an unfamiliar voice barked. Henry instinctively ducked behind a box. Three guards stood in their way. One had his gun trained on them. Ellie was on the other side of the hallway, crouched behind a set of boxes for cover. 

   Henry frowned. He instinctively felt there were four options to choose from, but he only had access to a sniper and a grenade. He grabbed the grenade on impulse; he was never reliable with guns, after all. He glanced at the woman. She held a taser. Maybe if she tased one of the guards, they would be distracted enough for him to throw a grenade at them unnoticed. The burning sensation consuming his entire body persuaded him otherwise. 

   He reluctantly readied the gun, peeked at his ally to check if she was prepared, and did a double take. She had a crossbow now. The pieces clicked together in his mind. His intuition told him there were four options total. He had access to two choices, so the redhead must have the other two. Their combined choices acted as the options themselves.

   This was new territory; his subtle foresight had never accounted for someone else quite this thoroughly. A tendril of anxiety squeezed his chest at the thought of someone affecting his powers so deeply, even if the results appeared positive. Now that he thought about it, every option so far added her to the equation. She always had a part to play, this time she was simply more… involved, regarding his abilities. Was it because she had powers as well?

   Shelving his thoughts and unease for later, Henry chose the sniper rifle. He wasn’t a good shot, but that never stopped him before. Just as he considered jumping out and 360° no-scoping them, a peculiar feeling stilled his hand. It wasn’t a physical ache, but it was present all the same. Guilt. This option foretold an intense feeling of guilt. He was no stranger to pushing aside his emotions for the sake of the mission, but he trusted his intuition aches.

   While he was thinking, the woman swapped her crossbow for the taser once again. She briefly met his eyes, glanced at the sniper in his hands, and nodded absentmindedly. Henry turned his attention back to the guards, glad that he didn’t have to explain anything to convince her to switch weapons. 

   The zzzt and a light punch to his back were all the warnings he got before the electricity arced through his body and locked up his muscles. His trigger finger spasmed, but the resulting bangs sounded and felt distant. His muscles burned. His insides clenched uncomfortably. The gun bucked in his hands from the kickback of firing. It was all he could do to remain standing. When that seconds long eternity passed, he finally had the room to think.

   The immediate threat was neutralized. Henry himself was holding the gun. His muscles ached and he felt exhausted, due to being tased. The red head was holding the taser. 

   Henry angrily swiveled to face her. 

   Questions, demands, and frustrations all bubbled up, threatening to spill out. They never got past the growing lump in his throat. His thoughts raced, and his anxiety climbed higher with each one. Why would she-the guards were right there- was he really that useless-betrayed-he shouldn’t have trusted her-why did he trust her-

   A warm hand touched his shoulder. He flinched back.

   “Hey, hey! I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me," her voice broke through the haze. She was leaning over him; when did he sit down? He felt lightheaded. “Just breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.”

   He mustered an indignant ‘duh’ through the fog in his head. He focused on leveling his breathing. Having a panic attack in front of someone was embarrassing enough, but being pitifully vulnerable in front of a dangerous stranger? Not acceptable. She could hurt him an any moment, and he was just sitting there- useless- she’s too close- can’t breathe- pathetic- get a hold of yourself- 

   “C’mon, we don’t have much time,” she urged him. Under her breath, she muttered, “ugh, I’m not good at this… Gentle, Ellie, be gentle.”

    He could barely hear her over the ringing in his ears. She kept glancing around cautiously, and it took him far too long to notice that she piled more boxes around him to shield their presence. 

   “Here- can I touch your hand?” she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her chest. Taking an exaggerated breath, she said, “like this, deep breath in, deep breath out.”

   The petty part of Henry wanted to resist her calming technique out of spite, but the rest of him was tired of spiralling. He followed her measured breathing as best he could. Slowly, almost unbearably so, his panting lulled and his pulse settled. Rattled as he was, spoken words were not an option. His expression alone would have to get his feelings across for him. 

   “Are you back?”

   He nodded shakily, and glared at her. She raised her hands in surrender.

   “I’m sorry I scared you like that, it wasn’t my intention to betray you. I honestly don’t know what came over me. It felt like a good idea at the time…”

   Henry continued to glare at her. She sighed.

   “Yeah, I’m an idiot. I swear I usually think through plans more thoroughly than that! I’m surprised it worked at all! You must be pretty skilled to nail all the guards like that while being tased.”

   His expression remained unchanged, despite the very much unwelcomed pride swelling within him. She tased him! He shouldn’t care about what she thought of him! Even if it was positive, and made him feel worthwhile… No! She was a threat. A few meager words did not change that. 

   He was so busy viciously stamping out the warmth in his chest and remaining stoic, that he nearly missed her next sentence.

   “-seem to have recovered. We need to get out of here soon, who knows when more guards will show up! I’m surprised they haven’t already. Must be your luck,” she shot him a hopeful grin, and gently nudged him with her elbow. He didn’t know her well, but it wasn’t a far stretch to assume this was her way of asking if they were still on good terms. 

   For a moment, Henry hesitated. Was it smart to cut ties with her right now? They came this far, he had no doubt she would be able to break out on her own from here. And yet… he prickled uncomfortably at the thought of letting her out of his sight. There was no reason for her to mess with him or his clan, but he didn’t know that for sure, did he? She was a total unknown with immense strength and skill. This situation would be better handled with constant monitoring than cutting her loose, perhaps never to be seen again(or worse, coming back as an unforeseen problem). 

   He shot her an unimpressed look and started down the hallway. Maybe they were still working together, but he had to make it clear he wasn’t happy with it. He needed to observe her more; figure out her motives. She was capable and willing to hurt him to further her goals. Using the Force and tasing him were proof of that. But then why would she help him out of the resulting panic attack? Why didn’t she ditch him when he was a burden to her it was most convenient to do so? Help him or hurt him, what did she want? What was she playing at? It didn’t make sense! Her actions contradicted each other, and that’s what scared him the most. She was unpredictable.

   Henry heard voices up ahead and slowed his approach. He peeked around a tall stack of packages. Two guards stood in an elevator, conversing about the current situation. Glancing behind himself confirmed the woman was trailing after him, holding two security caps in her hands.

   “Hey, I just grabbed these,” she bobbed the hats, “maybe they’ll come in handy?”

   He thought over his options. They could blend in with the guards and ride with them to ground level, but then they might have to talk, and he wasn’t really feeling it. Surely there were more elevators down the hall, they could just find a different, less occupied one. Disguised as security guards, the real ones wouldn’t pay them any special attention, with a bonus of no small talk! The pain of being sucker punched in the stomach convinced him otherwise. The hats were apparently too conspicuous to be useful while wearing them. But guards were stupid, and attracted to noise…

   He threw his hat past the elevator. The dull thumping sound was just loud enough to draw the suspicion of the guards, and sure enough they were lured out of the elevator. Henry and his ally quietly filed into the now-vacant elevator as exclamations and the sound of a skirmish filled the hall. Once the door shut with a ping , the woman offered a celebratory fistbump. He leveled her with an aloof expression. She crossed her arms and looked away, but not quickly enough for her humiliation and faded smile to escape his notice. 

(That separate part of him was dismayed to see her so downtrodden, Henry strangled it to silence)

   The cheerful ding of the elevator heralded the absolute chaos occurring in the prison yard. The roar of inmates battling the security guards, the crack of shots fired, the wailing alarm. The conglomeration of noise hit them like a physical wall. As tempting as it was to flee the overstimulation, they had to find a way through to escape. Good thing he thrived in chaos, even if it was ear bleedingly loud. They ran for cover.

   “Henry!”

   Henry stopped in his tracks. That sounded like-

   “Help!” his ally yelled desperately. She struggled in the arms of a familiar guard.

   “Back to your cell, inmate,” Grigori growled, dragging her back by a few steps. 

   Henry could hardly register the situation. She knew his name. She knew his name. She knew who he was, and still Force choked him, mocked him, and tased him!? This prison complex specifically targeted Henry- the Toppat Chief- so what did she do to garner their attention? He needed answers, but his escape had to take priority. Becoming a target of her ire was risky, but considering the warden’s right hand was apprehending her, she would be going to maximum security. Without his help, she had no chance.

   He vaguely felt 3 options, but they fizzled out as his goals changed. Adrenaline surged through him and static filled his ears. He took a couple of steps back. The woman gaped at him. He turned tail and ran.

(A visceral panic not of his own leapt upon him so suddenly, he thought he was having a heart attack)

   Henry stumbled and gasped, clutching at his chest. His heart was still beating, albeit a little faster due to that scare. The feeling of dread did not leave. He pushed it aside all the same. He didn’t have time for this! 

   He spotted a nearby abandoned motorcycle, and made a beeline for it. As he hopped on, he heard a familiar, annoying voice.

   “Oh no you don’t!” the warden seethed, leaping in front of Henry’s motorcycle. “There has not been an incident here in 50 years, and yet the day you show- huh?” 

   Henry grinned and revved the engine. He shot forward, ramming into the Russian man and flinging him to the side. He checked the rearview mirror. The limp figure of the warden sat up. Unacceptable.

   “You are going to regret-!”

   Henry shut him up by running over him again. The Russian remained still.

   “HEY!” a pair of guards spotted him near the unconscious warden. They trained their weapons on him. That was his cue to leave. He gunned it, and the back wheel skidded for a moment- spraying snow all over the warden’s body- before finding a purchase on the slick snow-covered ground. Henry couldn’t help it, he burst into a mad cackle as he shot away. Bullets peppered the ground where he was mere moments ago. The thrill of escaping once more filled his veins. He weaved between the scuffles and general mayhem a breakout yielded. 

   He espied the crumpled remains of a Humvee near the closed gate. While the motorcycle wasn’t bulky enough to crash through the gate unscathed, it was light enough to get some air if assisted. The broken Humvee happened to be vaguely ramp-shaped. 

   Henry sped up as much as he dared, angling his trajectory away from the cliff. Guards and inmates alike scattered in his wake. The broken vehicle jolted under his motorcycle, but it held. His speed and the steep angle of the Humvee were barely enough to get him over the barbed wire on top of the wall. But it was enough. 

   The motorcycle sounded an unhappy ker-chunk as it landed, but it didn’t stop under his command. Henry let out a victorious fist pump! With the gate still closed and the outbreak keeping the guards busy, he was homefree! 

   The elation and adrenaline coursing through his veins died down as the complex winked out of view, leaving him in the cold alone. Snowflakes rushed up to meet his face and clung to his thin prison clothes. There was little comfort Henry could find besides the heat from the motorcycle’s engine. If he didn’t find shelter before nightfall, there was no doubt he would freeze to death. 

   Henry sighed as he ran through the logistics of getting back to the Airship. First he had to find a town, or any shelter in general. From there, he could call the Toppats and sit tight until they retrieved him. Once he was all settled, he would regale them with the riveting tale of escaping the inescapable! Ruining the precious reputation of an arrogant warden, who hadn’t had an outbreak like this in 50 years! Needless to say, he would skip over his meeting and subsequent teamwork with the redhead. Reginald wouldn’t understand the threat she was to Henry the Clan, not without exposing his own powers.

   Of course, he couldn’t let the warden get off scot-free for kidnapping and imprisoning him. He’s been to jail before, but this time it felt… targeted. Escaping his prized penitentiary and humiliating him weren’t enough. He wanted to raze the Wall to the ground. That would teach them not to mess with Henry the Toppat Clan! Not to mention that he wanted his top hat back. He worked hard to earn that stylish hat!

   The relentless frigid weather caused time to slow to a crawl. His trip felt hours long, even though it couldn’t have been longer than one. The trail led to a shady bar at the edge of a rundown town. In fact… This was just the sort of place to find Toppat Scouts. Henry parked his stolen bike, and headed into the pub. He gave himself a chance to warm up before approaching the two Toppats in the corner. 

   “-don’t wanna be on caravan duty,” the one in blue made his disdain clear. 

   “Oh, it’s not so bad. You get to sit on the train and hang out!” the one in red reassured him. He was certainly the more mellow of the two. 

   “Yeah, but-” he looked around for eavesdroppers, and immediately noticed Henry approaching, “bugger off, we’re having a private conversation here!”

   Henry tsked and shook his head. There was a stone lodged in his throat from their pointed stares, but he was well-practiced in talking around it. He focused on their top hats(although the red one barely counted). They were allies, and they could help. He was their leader, so they had to listen. 

   “Wouldn’t speak to your Chief like that, if I were you,” he chided, his voice raspy. They were taken aback. Red leaned forward and squinted at him. 

   “Chief Stickmin?!” he exclaimed. Henry nodded. 

   “Just broke out of the prison northeast of here, so I don’t have my hat or anything,” he said with an apologetic grin. He basked in their matching amazed expressions. The lump in his throat loosened and gave way. 

   “The Wall!? We’ve lost so many good members to them…” Red trailed off.

   “How long have you been there, Chief? If I recall, you’ve been missing for quite a while,” Blue asked.

   “Not even a day. I caused a prison outbreak on my way out,” Henry boasted. He was rewarded with their awestruck faces once again. “I’ll tell you about it later. For now, I could use your assistance.”

   “Of course boss.”

   “What do you need?”

   They gladly lent him a phone and a secluded space to talk about important matters. 

   “Yes, hello?” a distinguished voice with a British accent answered.

   “Hey Reg. I’m in Canada apparently, and it’s really cold, could you pick me up?”

   “Henry? You’ve been missing for-” a pause “over two weeks! What are you doing in Canada?”

   “I was doing some personal heists- you know how I am, too much stuffy paperwork and I go stir crazy- and I got ambushed and imprisoned by the Wall,” he replied nonchalantly.

   “Of course you did,” Reginald sighed, and Henry could picture him rubbing his temples, “wait- the Wall?! Do you need us to break you out? If you can get outside, we can be a quick getaway-”

   “I’m offended you thought I needed help breaking out of prison. I’m already out. How else would I be calling you?”

   “You’d find a way,” he muttered away from the phone, clearly not for Henry to hear, “er- right, of course. You needed a ride? We’ll eh- we’ll be right there. Where are you exactly?”

   “In a bar near the Wall. My coords are… 68, -137.”

   “Rerouting now. Sit tight, I’ll let you know when we’re close.”

   “Sounds good. While you’re at it, put together a raid team for me.”

   “Already? You just escaped prison and you already want to pull a heist?”

   “A raid, not a heist.”

   “Henry, no one is going to fault you for being ambushed and captured. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone for your self-perceived failure. Your jailbreak at the Wall alone will overshadow any doubts your kidnapping may have cast on the Clan. You need to rest .”

   “Says you, hypocrite.”

   “Er- yes, but- while that is true, I’m more than qualified-”

   “And this is time sensitive,” Henry cut him off, “I need to hit the Wall while they’re still weak and reeling from the outbreak I caused.”

   “...You want to raid the Wall?” 

   Henry was simultaneously irritated and inwardly laughing at the incredulous tone to his voice. 

   “Yes, so put together a highly skilled team, with extra arsonists and demolitionists. I want to raze it to the ground!” 

   It went unsaid that if a certain redhead got caught in the crossfire and died, well, that was one way to solve his problem. Otherwise he could ‘recruit’ her, if only to keep an eye on her. If she resisted, the brig had plenty of room for another prisoner. She could keep that one guy they had company. 

   “Henry,” Reginald said in his gentle and reasonable ‘are you stupid’ voice that he loathed, “this is far too dangerous. That Warden is proud, zealous, and obstinate. We can not wage war with him if we can help it. I understand that you’re feeling upset about recent events-”

   “He waged war with us when he kidnapped me! You said it yourself, we’ve lost good assets to the Wall before so-”

   “Henry, you know what I’ve said about calling our people ‘assets’. This is our Clan, we have to take care-”

   “Exactly ! So when we launch the raid, we’ll be freeing our imprisoned members-”

   “The risk is too great! That prison complex is a fortress in disguise and we could easily lose more members- permanently- than we rescue!”

   “I just proved that the Wall isn’t as impenetrable as the warden wants us to think!”

   “I can’t let you risk the Clan for some- some revenge fantasy!”

   “Well it’s a good thing it’s not your choice! I’m the leader here! I make the decisions!”

   “I can’t allow this! I won’t! I won’t let you destroy this clan, Terrance!”

   Henry’s boiled-over temper compressed, burning hotter and brighter and about to erupt.

   “You said you’d stop comparing me to him,” he murmured darkly, his rage simmering under the surface. Reginald faltered.

   “Er- yes, I forgot myself. I’m sorry. But you can’t seriously entertain this-”

   “You’re going to put that team together, and we’re going to raid the Wall. That’s an order,” he commanded.

   “Henry please,” he asked softly, “I beg you, please consider the safety of the Clan.”

   He paused. Reginald was proud. He kept his appearance crisp and clean, and never arrived late to any meeting, no matter how short the notice. He demanded the respect of his peers, and stubbornly refused to rest out of fear someone would catch him in such a vulnerable and unseemly state. To lower himself and beg Henry… He was serious. He was dead serious.

   “The Clan will be safe after we demolish the Wall,” he dismissed his concern. He’d get over it when they succeeded.

   “Very well,” Reginald said coldly, “see you soon Henry.”

   He hung up with an air of grave finality.