Officer Zero - Division (Story Epilogue)

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A bit of an after-story for last month's comic I started on as a little project during a kinky writing group event.

Story is pasted below and attached at the bottom if your prefer it in .doc form for offline reading and safe-keeping.

Stay beautiful, Smooth

_____

The air hums with an aura of tense mistrust; nanites, glowing and uneasy swarm in loose clouds, a sporadic reflection of the mood of the hyper-intelligence controlling them with every subtle shift of her mind. She stares with cold intensity into the unblinking icy blue eyes of this uppity police inspector who has marched so confidently into her spacious, intimidating office and dares to now touch her.

Bianca, that's Dame Bianca Belladonna Vega II to all the little people, measures her “guest's” every facial feature with mechanical precision, her cloud-like aura of near-imperceptible nanites providing angles no human has access to.

Across the desk, smirking confidently, Inspector Emma Gunn of the New North City Police, lets out a soft chuckle as if she knows what this tense silence means. This is a battle of wills, a test, and a deep, intrusive scan through the eyes of the peerlessly influential biomechanical entrepreneur.

No matter how many passes she takes, how deeply she analyses the features and soft tells of the inspector, Bianca sees nothing. No sign of treachery, not a blink of indecision, nor a twitch of any kind that may give away an ulterior motive.

'Talk?' Bianca finally asks with an element of mirth in her sharp, cybernetically-curdled voice in response to Emma's proposition, 'and what prey-tell is there to talk about, Inspector Gunn?'

At the sound of her own name spoken with such confidence by someone she's never formally been introduced to, Emma can't help but tilt her head slightly in surprise. She quickly brushes it away, what's there to be surprised about? It would be more surprising if Bianca didn't know her name... and everything else about her.

Bianca furrows her brow as she continues, 'If one recalls correctly, the last time you and I met, you had a certain slimy little accomplice to aid in your thoroughly improper denial of your better, did you not?' Every syllable uttered by her oh-so-haughty “Ladyship” drips with disdain and an air of utter, unequivocal supremacy. 'What do you imagine, such as you're capable of imagination, would have happened had that living sewer-gunk not intervened?'

Emma can't help but take a sharp intake of breath as if drinking in the pure, undiluted aura of dominance Bianca exudes with every word and action. The way she describes Pixel Duffy like some kind of lower lifeform, like something she might find stuck to the bottom of her flawless, shape-shifting boot on the rare occasions she sets foot amongst the filth of the masses, it thrills Emma in a way she can scarcely explain nor process.

Pixel may be Emma's “partner” on the force, but it's through no choice of her own. In her heart of hearts, Emma's resentment has done nothing but grow since that fateful incident eight months ago. A mixture of necessity and opportunity brought that partnership about, but nothing about it has ever sat well with the Inspector.

The more that she's come to know Pixel, and the more that the hastily deputised Sergeant's physical clinginess has become mirrored with an emotional clinginess just as all-pervasive, the more Emma's feelings have soured. As she stands here, staring down the hyper-wealthy, potential solution to her problem, the more vindicated she feels.

'What do I think would have happened, Dame Vega?' Emma confidently muses rhetorically, 'surely you know what would have happened... right?' Emma releases Bianca's chin with a flick of the finger and thumb cupping her chin with such possessive confidence.

Slowly, her skintight latex catsuit creaking and purring with each subtle moment, she stands up straight, her fist dislodging from the shattered screen inlaid into Dame Vega's desk. With surprisingly sinuous grace, Emma cups her fingers and stretches them up above her head in a languid, almost lewd exhibition of her power and presence.

'Hmhahaha,' Bianca laughs as she slithers to her feet, curvaceous rear leading the way. Her height eclipses that of the otherwise physically impressive inspector, Bianca's ego not allowing her to be towered over by anyone, 'you dare challenge my intelligence and deduction skills, Inspector?!'

'I was mere moments away from insinuating one's nanoscopic fundamental autonomous cellular entities into your circulatory system via your respiratory system. From there, one's systematic infiltration of your central nervous system would have been inevitable!' Bianca grins wickedly and threateningly as she gazes long and hard into the surprisingly unflustered brilliant azure of Emma's eyes.

'Mhmm, I'm sure all that would have happened, whatever you say,' Inspector Gunn shoos away the veiled threat and promise as if it's all technical jargon that doesn't mean anything, 'but none of that really matters when you can't do a damned thing to hurt me, does it?'

Dame Vega's eyes narrow dangerously, the inner orange fire exciting into an almost searing white-hot glow as the swarms of seemingly autonomous, but truthfully intertwined, nanobots around them swarm more and more intensely, reflecting the ultra-wealthy CEO's frustration.

'You imagine I don't know how your interaction with your slithering little friend works?!' Bianca snaps, striking a gleaming argent fist into her already wrecked desk as she leans over it to stare even more intensely into the uppity police officer's eyes, 'ten minutes... that is how long it takes for your invulnerability to extend, wholesale, to everything within 9 millimetres of your own living mass!'

Emma drops a hip and rests her hands on her svelte yet defined curves, nodding, impressed with Bianca's wealth of knowledge, 'Riiight, so you do know,' she smirks, staring the arrogant cyborg down, 'so then you also know that once my invincibility has extended to something,' she raises one gloved hand from her hip as if showing it off, 'I take total control over it!'

Bianca watches the black latex caked across Emma's fingers swirl to life and grow fingertips as if alive and, as Emma suggests, obeying her. Her eyebrows, as silver and brilliantly polished as the long waves of luscious wires cascading down her back, visibly rise in a slow, surprised motion. Emma smirks as she realises that this is news to Dame Vega, while Bianca's brilliant, AI-enhanced mind whirls in an attempt to compute this new information.

'So like I said, Dame Bianca Belladonna Vega the Second,' Emma uses Bianca's full name out of a mix respect and victorious satisfaction as she lowers her hand to her hip once more, smirking as she finishes making her point, 'let's talk!'

'Alright, Miss Gunn,' Bianca Vega nods with a smirk and steps forwards through her immense, ornate desk. Her thighs become clouds of swirling, spaghettified silver and tangerine as if the physical makeup of the material world is as insignificant to her as every other living being. 'You've presented both an interesting conundrum and a compelling argument for your own worth.'

Emma would recognise those words as high praise indeed, were she not retreating instinctively at the superhuman display of matter-manipulation happening in front of her.

Bianca's self-vaporised legs re-materialise on Emma's side of the desk only for the once more seemingly solid argent mass of femininity to elongate in other, even less predictable ways.

'It behoves one to inform you, however,' her haughty ladyship purrs threateningly as her upper body whip-cracks forwards from her still striding hips and wraps like a boa, long and sinuous, around the inspector's waist to coil her up and face her once more, 'that one is far from convinced by your entreaty.'

'Y-You aren't?' Emma can't help but gasp and show a little disappointment at what she believes Bianca's meaning to be, caught out by the shape-shifting trillionaire's display of power.

Bianca's response is terse and to the point, 'Of course not.' Her body continues morphing and coiling around the latex-clad police officer in ways that Emma can barely understand. It's a show of power, an expression of dominance, but as soon as Emma remembers her own power, her body-language returns to stoic, upright strength.

'You believe you have something to offer me that would see me willingly part with any measure of my incalculable power and influence? HA!' The glistening argent mastermind laughs right in Emma's face, her breath laced with pheromones and sweetness that don't even register through Emma's invincibility.

'Allow me to share a little insight into the expanse of my own capabilities,' Bianca purrs. She raises a hand, thrice wrapped around Emma, up in front of the Inspector's face, a single clawed fingertip extending and squirming like a serpent between Emma's eyes and the razor-sharp tips of Bianca's fangs.

'All it takes,' she murmurs gently, her eyes seemingly narrowing on the brilliant blue of Emma's own, 'is a single microscopic nanite from my billion-strong aggregate... to kill!' The emphasis on the daunting word is accompanied by that squirming fingertip bursting into a dense, puff of a million nanites.

Inspector Gunn's eyes go almost cross-eyed as she watches the effortless act while considering the claim it accompanies, her mouth opening involuntarily as a shiver of amazement and fear-inspired hunger shivers down her spine.

'A single. Solitary. Nanite.' Bianca continues, her voice low and husky as she considers this being wrapped in her thrall and yet, much to her frustration, immune to her usually nigh-omnipotent power.

'Tell me, wage-slave... Are you capable of envisaging the effect wrought by an infinitesimal, unstoppable pinball ricochetting inside a skull at ten thousand miles per hour?' Emma's breath becomes short and stuttering, she can.

'While one would imagine that your experiences with cuisine are significantly inferior in taste and sophistication to my own,' Bianca growls almost sensually, her barely human lips coated in that gleaming silver promise of death hovering inches in front of Emma's own, 'I would imagine you are still familiar with the concept of soup... and of instantaneous liquefaction!'

Emma, despite herself and the rumble of sickening horror instilled by Bianca's claim, finds her unstoppable fingers clenching instinctively into and out of fists as if trying to control her emotions through practised physical repetition.

'Mmm, very impressive!' She finally nods gently with genuine respect behind her response that draws a soft, pleased tilt from the threatening cyborg's face. 'Still... You did come looking for me... and you were chased off. You must think there's something more to gain?'

Bianca's soft smirk quickly sours into a death-stare as her entwined nanites all vaporize in an instant, her entire body becoming a hissing, screeching cloud of gleaming silvery confetti and pulsing orange warning lights all around the officer daring to stand her ground and remind Dame Vega of a failure... her failure. What a foreign concept.

'I mean no offence, Dame Vega!' Emma quickly corrects herself as she staggers back, her gaze casting back and forth in hurried motions through the suffocatingly intimidating swarm. Spikes, blades, needles, glowing fangs and scowling eyes form everywhere she looks as warning flash in her most primal brain.

Though her ear-mounted holographic visors allow to see and hear the wicked display of potency, she wishes they wouldn't. 'All I'm getting at,' She continues, noticing the nebulous trillionaire's mood relaxing through the calming state of her swarming gaseous body, 'is that you must have realised what I figured out-'

In less than a second, the intimidating nanite cloud swirls into a chaotic tornado that forms back into glowing, gleaming silvery-tangerine feminine perfection in front of Emma. Bianca growls as she reluctantly finishes Emma's thought, 'That there's still room for improvement.'

'Exactly!' Emma enthuses, gripping her hands into fists as she excitedly takes half a stride forwards, her enthusiasm catching Bianca by surprise, welcome though it is. 'I'm exactly what you need,' she unfurls her latex-coated hands and suddenly reaches up to grab Dame Vega's face as if she isn't even thinking about the consequences.

'Mmm, maybe your are,' Bianca responds, surprising herself with how she welcomes the sudden, unbidden contact, something nobody else on this enslaved, helpless world would dare do to her; well almost nobody.

'But that raises the obvious question, young lady... why do you care?' Bianca counters with the thought that should have an obvious answer, but it's an answer she wants to hear escape the invincible woman's lips. She trails an unfelt fingertip up the curve of Emma's infuriatingly impermeable rubber clad bosom until she traces those very lips she's waiting to hear from.

'Why?!' Emma snaps back, her pupils dilating in something like offended rage, her fingertips digging into the soft, giving features of the argent CEO. Her grip is, quite obviously to Bianca, an attempt to feel something, anything. The side-effects of Emma's powers are not lost on Dame Vega, conceptually at least.

Not being able to feel anything, to find no resistance anywhere, no pleasure, no physicality nor connection; that is Inspector Gunn's every waking moment. Who else but Bianca could possibly understand that experience but the virtually untouchable and unstoppable cyborg this woman so desperately wants to hang onto?

'The only thing I ever get to feel is that chirping, insufferable Sergeant they stuck me with! Her constant yapping, her holier-than-thou insistence on doing everything the “right way”, the “moral way”, bah!' Emma sneers.

'Why should I have to?!' Officer Gunn snaps in frustration. 'What's worse is that not only is that the only way I can feel anything, but that's the only time I ever feel pain!' Emma's hands fully ball into fists in the nano-tech makeup of Bianca's face, drawing a pained hiss and gritted teeth from the CEO as some of her fundamental nanites are crushed into atoms in Emma's unstoppable grip.

'S-Sorry,' Emma gasps, releasing Bianca and stepping back with a blush, realising she got carried away, her inability to feel anything other than her own skintight latex and sweat leading her to doing something she shouldn't have. 'It's so hard to control myself.'

'Understandable,' Dame Vega responds as her nanites swarm and reform to cover for the destroyed mass, mass that she'll need to replace later, but a noteworthy example of Gunn's real power. 'You don't like pain, but you do want to feel...'

Emma's flustered expression gives way to a thankful shrug of her eyebrows, appreciating the understanding, 'Yes.' Her nod is slow and intentional as her shoulders sag, 'You caused me pain when we fought... even if it was only a nick, I felt the stab of your blade, the tear of Pixel's mass away from my skin as if it were my own... and it scared me.'

'Why should I have to feel pain if all I want is to feel pleasure?! Why can't I have this incredible power and use it however I want without consequence?! Why can't I be powerful and unstoppable and-' Emma pauses as she sees the glide of Dame Vega's fluid, mirror-sheen hands across her body, even if she doesn't feel it.

The look in the influential cyborg's eyes is one she never imagined she'd see, one she wasn't sure Bianca was even capable of. For her own part, Bianca can barely believe what she's doing and thinking either.

'Such assspiration,' Bianca hisses, her eyes glazing with excitement. She's deeply impressed by the depths of this woman's passion and honesty about the selfish, individualistic cravings in her heart, 'such hunnngerrr!' There's a chord, somewhere deep down inside Dame Vega that's been left untouched for decades if not centuries, a chord being struck by every word, every arrogant gesture she's soaking in.

'I honestly didn't think you had it in you, Inspector,' Bianca swoons, her mercurial body doing unimaginable things against and all over Emma's utterly impregnable body; swirling, slathering, coiling and uncoiling as she drinks this surprising woman in. 'one sees now why you crave my empire, my influence, my own abilities to enhance your own.'

'You believe I can give you that freedom, that my supremacy could become yours,' Bianca coos, her voice low and sultry as her face presses against Emma's in a surprisingly intimate kiss, her dispersible face smothering against Gunn's like a formfitting, smothering mask before parting and becoming a pair of heads, each one with lips pressed flush to one of the Inspector's ears.

'And yet, despite everything you have said, you've still yet to tell me why one should put myself into a position where you could, theoretically, seize everything I have worked so hard to establish over centuries or growth and self-refinement.' Her challenge comes in stereo, two pairs of lips speaking slightly out of sync to provide an unsettling yet arousing ASMR-level whisper into Emma's earpieces.

Emma closes her eyes softly, inhaling slowly as she drinks in Bianca's breathy words. The confidence, the dominace exuded by every act and word cuts through Emma's defences, rousing something almost spiritual in the pit of her being. Still, does she really have an answer to that?

'I-I guess you're right.' Gunn admits, her eyes gently fluttering open to find Bianca's own forehead now pressed against her own, glowing orange eyes presenting something like a jump scare that reminds her of Bianca's own potency and unpredictability.

'You have everything, Dame Vega,' Emma admits, her shoulders shrugging before sagging with a defeated sigh, 'the power, the security, the influence, the comfort... Everything I wish I had.'

Bianca's lips curl in a wicked, yet somehow warm smile, pleased by the reinforcement of what she already knows, yet delighted to hear it directly from such an exquisite specimen. Is that respect she senses growing inside her? How peculiar, she shudders.

'Mmm, I do, don't I?' She chuckles knowingly, 'and while you continue to serve on “the force”, there's always going to be that nagging understanding, deep in the pit of your soul, that whatsoever I deem, that will become your reality.' She sighs in self-congratulatory bliss.

'Ahh, but it's wonderful, isn't it, Inspector?' She asks, drawing a confused expression from her delightful guest, 'to know that such power exists, tantalizingly out of reach? Denied to you by your one and only better.'

Emma wishes she could argue with that, her set jaw and bared pearly whites say as much, but what is there to argue with? 'wonderful for you, maybe.' She casts her head back and looks up at the ceiling as her body-language becomes even more defeated with each long, frustrating yet unnecessary inhalation.

'Hmm,' Dame Vega reads Emma's frustration and disappointment for what it is as she steps back and perches on the edge of her desk. For some reason she isn't taking the same schadenfreude, satisfaction, she expected to from Emma's reaction. 'Still, this does present a vexing enigma.'

As Inspector Gunn's head slumps back down and her arms cross under her rubber-locked bosom, she tilts her head and shrugs, 'does it? Seems to me that you hold all the cards. What do you want, Dame Vega? From me?'

Emma doesn't care if she's interrupting Bianca's thought-process, getting in the way of some diatribe or monologue, she's hurting. 'I can't go on like this,' she admits, drawing a slightly shocked twitch from the potent CEO leaning back on the desk in front of her.

'What do I want?' She echoes, the question surprisingly difficult to answer for a second.

'Aye,' Emma shrugs again, 'do you want me do get on my knees and beg? To debase myself and stroke your ego even more?' Her arms unfurl and she drops a hip, standing akimbo with a testing pout. 'Just... tell me what I need to do. I'm done pretending, we both know I belong to you whether I like it or not.'

Bianca chuckles under her breath and raises a finger, curling it with a dip of her head, ushering Emma to approach through hooded eyes. 'That's what I want, Miss Gunn, that!'

Emma pauses for a moment, taken aback by the power behind that curling, clawed fingertip; this feels like a decisive moment. Does she give in and surrender any concept of holding real power? Could she do that? Wouldn't that undermine everything she's actually searching for?

'Well...' Emma puffs out her chest, making her decision, 'you can't have it.' Short, sharp, to the point, Emma stands her ground. 'If giving up what I've got to escape the prison of duty means just surrendering to someone else's control, then I don't wanna know!'

Dame Vega stops her ushering, demeaning gesture and pauses for a second before turning her hand over to look at the back of her nails with a gentle intake of breath, the soft tone beneath tinged with digital static.

'Silly thing,' Bianca purrs, 'you don't get it, do you?' She asks rhetorically, she knows Emma doesn't and at this point is just making a show of her superior wit and intelligence.

'I don't want your absolute surrender,' she explains, causing Emma to squint in confusion, a lip raised as if Bianca's making no sense, 'I want your adoration.'

'My... adoration?' Emma asks, eyes slowly trailing down the undeniably perfect curves of the cybernetically-enhanced woman leant so confidently and dominantly against the unimaginably expensive bespoke desk.

'Well you have that already.' Emma reaches up to stroke her own neck, stretching and flicking her ponytail out of the way as her neck cracks, a sound-wave surging out that makes Bianca's barely solid body ripple in response, 'but I don't see how that answers anything.'

'Goodness gracious me,' Dame Vega sighs, shaking her head as she stands and strides forwards to close the gap between them once more, 'are you just playing dumb at this point, Emma?' She asks, suddenly pressed against the stunned Inspector, her slick, silvery hand caressing the side of her invincible face.

'Let me spell it out for you,' Bianca insists, her other hand roaming over the slick coating of the invincible woman's catsuit, 'everyone adores me, the whole world answers to me. From your Chief Constable, to the Prime Minister, to the filthy plebeian on the street.'

'If you want to be my bodyguard and vessel, then you're going to have to start thinking like me, aren't you?' Emma's expression is a picture: shock, realisation and delight. 'Can you think like the most important person in any room? Can you give orders knowing that your every decision decides the fate of all the little people beneath you? No, you can't... But I can teach you, my dear.'

'You-you mean-' Emma gasps, taken aback by this apparently sudden shift in Bianca, 'but you already said it's too much of a risk for you!'

'Mhmhmhm,' Bianca chuckles in response, 'no, I didn't.' Her luscious silver lips open to reveal her literal silver tongue, letting it glide out across her lip, 'I said that you've yet to tell me why I should take that risk. I already know why I should.'

'You do?' Emma asks, her hands almost instinctively rising up to glide gently onto and through the shape-shifting hips of the domineering yet seemingly playful CEO, wishing she could feel anything, 'why?' She has to know, giving herself over to Bianca's superior wisdom and intelligence without second thought.

'Because I can,' Dame Bianca Vega purrs with a soft, sultry whisper, 'because I can shape you into the perfect, unstoppable extension of myself.' Her words lack nothing in confidence, not a flicker of doubt in her mind.

'B-but, like I said-' Emma tries to counter her point, no matter how transfixed she is with the ruthless confidence and beauty pressed against her.

'I know what you said.' Bianca cuts her off, 'I touch you for too long and you will take control; threat this, helplessness that...' Bianca chuckles, dismissing these concerns as paltry at best.

'By the time it comes to that, and believe me it will, you'll be so confident in my mental superiority that you'll gladly give your mind over to me... as I'll gladly,' Bianca looks down, her body once more unwittingly reaching out in liquid and gaseous feelers of lust to take in every inch of Emma's sculpted, invincible form, 'give my body over to you... with a few modifications, of course.'

'Modifications?' Emma asks, still reeling from Dame Vega's predictive words, but intrigued by the proposition, 'What did you have in mind?'

A wicked smirk crosses Bianca's beautiful, freckled face and she flicks her head to the side, directing Emma's gaze to a pair of portraits on the wall, 'take a look at the woman I used to be.'

Inspector Gunn turns her head to glance at the two pictures, each labelled “Bianca Belladonna Vega”, one as “the first” and one, with a damehood, as “the second”. At a glance, with timelines listed beneath each, it would appear that the former is Bianca's mother, but on closer inspection, the “death” of the former coincides with the “birth” of the latter.

'For the first 127 years of my life, I was human. Enhanced, sculpted, perfected, to be sure, but human nonetheless.' The harder Emma looks, the more obvious the facial similarities between the two portraits become, but it's difficult to believe they are the same person, 'the moment one achieved full nano-biological apotheosis, I considered myself to have begun a second life.'

'Those are... both you?!' She asks, shocked by the obvious differences, not just in facial form, but in her other physical attributes. She realises this is what Bianca means by “modifications”, a refusal to be limited even by Emma's natural physiology.

'Indeed,' Bianca purrs, satisfied by the inspector's surprise, 'and yet there's still room on my wall for another portrait, don't you think?' Emma's head slowly swivels back to meet Bianca's eager eyes as she soaks in that statement and proposition.

'From human... to bio-mechanical immortality... to dual-intellect, synergetic invincibility!' Bianca hisses in excitement at the proposition, 'Your body, my mind, both of our wills entwined... doesn't that strike you as a new level of human evolution, Emma?'

'It... does.' Gunn's amazement slowly warps into a dark, hungry excitement tinged with a slight nervous edge, 'and you really trust me to be that... second intellect?'

'Hmm, trust is a strong word, don't you think?' Bianca contemplates, one hand gently considering the face of the woman she still considers lesser, despite her undeniable attraction. 'Hence,' Bianca suddenly straightens her arms to shunt herself back away from Emma before they can linger together too long, 'why that won't be happening today.'

Emma's brows rise once more, her lips parting as if parched, denied, robbed of what she was just beginning to believe was coming her way. 'Aww, poor little thing,' Bianca purrs with mocking sympathy that comes across as far more genuine than she had intended, 'I'm just as intrigued by the possibility as you are, but as the saying goes: “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”'

'Besides,' Bianca continues before Emma can even muster a word to the contrary, the subject changed in a heartbeat, 'I have an important job for you, Inspector. Call it a test, if you like.'

A sense of unease, dread almost, glosses over the excitement and anticipation growing in Emma's mind. This isn't going to be pleasant, she knows it. 'You want me to get back on the job... don't you?'

Slowly, with a surprisingly regretful expression, Bianca nods. 'You see,' She inhales sharply, set to explain something she's sure is far above Emma's pay-grade, 'there's someone else out there... someone far more intimidating than anyone you've yet crossed paths with. A thorn in my side operating out of the shadows, curdling the foundations of everything I've built!'

'Who?' Emma asks, balling up her fists as she immediately identifies this person as her primary foe, a threat standing between her and everything she craves.

'I don't know.' Bianca admits through gritted teeth an a stunned silence falls over the sleek, minimalistic office.

'You... don't know?!' Emma can't believe she just heard those words; is there really a blind-spot in Dame Vega's knowledge? Especially about someone that seems to have her genuinely concerned?!

'She-' Bianca is cut off my a stabbing pain like a dagger thrust into her skull as she doubles over, squinting with a hand held up to her temple. The soft orange lights around the room turn an ominous, boding shade of crimson as if the entire facility has suddenly entered emergency conditions.

'Dame Vega?!' Emma exclaims and lunges forwards to try grabbing and supporting her grunting ladyship, nanites altering into drippy puddles, livid clouds and writhing tendrils all across her silvery form, 'Bianca!' Emma can't help but suddenly let the lovely silvery CEO's given name out with a concern dripping with hurt as if she's feeling everything.

This connection, this concern, how has it grown so rapidly when Emma can't even bring herself to be anything other than cross with Pixel, despite the eight months they've spent gestating their relationship? Emma doesn't know, but she feels personally affronted at this unwelcome... attack?

'Grrr, Duffy...!' Emma growls and backs up as it becomes clear that Bianca is fighting this off, focusing and causing the lights to flicker back and forth between her own orange and this oppressive, invasive red, 'what the hell did you do?!'

Emma turns and begins striding with ferocious, furious strides towards the elevator, 'I'll deal with this!' She insists, even if she doesn't know what she's dealing with. All she knows is that she's been given a job with the promise of everything she desires at the end of it... she won't fail!

'N-No,' Dame Vega grunts, causing Emma to pause and look back, 'it's not... your partner.' She's clearly struggling and Emma can barely stand seeing her like this, stripped of her usual elegant poise and faultless control.

'It's her!' Bianca hisses, 'the one I need you to find,' She shoots Emma a gaze that tells her to go, to hunt, to destroy, 'the woman in red!'