She'd stopped eating all together the moment she'd noticed the little girl hanging from the ceiling. Roach's out burst about 'cattle not speaking' caused her to swing her gaze his way, as if it was more shocking then a child being murdered in the arena below.

And in a way, it was to her. The bug she knew had his quirks and flaws, yes... but this...? Eveything she'd seen so far pointed to the fact that this was no longer the roach she thought she knew.

"Want to give me a hand strangling a little girl after this? I do so miss bonding with you."

"What, and get muck on my dress?"

Seeing the kid up there, no matter what she may have done to earn such a punishment... it shook Megan to the core. As she looked at Roach... her old, dear friend... she couldn't see anything left of the mutant she'd once loved. He tortured people now, children even... he did terrible, terrible things with no viable reason behind them, and he did it all to entertain the like of people she'd been helping the Judge eradicate from New York.

She had to end this... she had to make it stop.

Her gaze drifted back down to the fight below, resting on the armored form of the Judge. Sadness crept slowly into her expression. I'm sorry... After she put her plan into motion, he'd surely find the note she's hastily scrawled for him.

Glancing at Roach again, she wondered if she was ready...

He felt the glob of venom flying his way, and did his best to avoid it... he was just so tired, though. The venom landed on the armor plate covering his left bicep, and he found himself forced to use a burst of energy to rip it off; he couldn't afford to have any of the liquid soak in and get around the steel plate.

He was already moving as Andrea went about dispatching the poor girl with cold efficiency. He felt the attack kill the child as he collected the nearest weapon, a top heavy mace, from the wall, and used energy to burst forward with startling speed; he'd collected a good bit from fighting and killing 30 people.

As his weapon swung through the air and met her knee cap with shattering force, he couldn't help but feel sick that a child was throwing her life away so that he could get this chance at an opponent he shouldn't have been able to get an advantage over after exhausting himself through hours of fighting in the arena. He let go of the weapon after it hit it's target, opting to slide past and out of her attack range again; they had stripped him of his weapons on the way out, so he was severely lacking when it came to that field...

Just then, something popped out to his sixth sense in the crowd... A hand signal that was being waved over and over again, almost frantically. One he'd used with Megan before. The big problem was that it was rather close to his most likely crippled opponent... He had to risk it, though! He got to trying to hobble past her, trying his best to stay out of range.

Gregory Samson watched the fight with some amusement, letting himself get absorbed in it for a moment; after all, it was good to try and enjoy yourself in these horrid times, right? That was the whole concept of the pit; to forcefully squeeze every drop of merriment out of these people long enough to keep them happy until they wasted away to nothing.

Still, there was business to attend to. He turned his large eyes to Megan, sighing as she responded to his invitation to strangle a little girl with a half hearted response: "What, and get muck on my dress?"

"Come now, Megan... Don't play coy with me... Pretty dress or not, you wouldn't end an innocent girl's life with your own hands. It kills you that I could, too. That's why you were going to blow both of us up, right?" He held up a red wire from the bomb she'd been keeping in the hideous bag of hers. "I don't blame you, though. It's his fault. He tainted your mind. We'll have you fixed in no time, though." He chuckled a little bit. "The foolishness of it all, him thinking you could do this... You could never kill me. I could be about to press the kill switch on the world and you would still love me way too much." Another chuckle rang from his maw, and he turned back to the fight, tossing the vital bomb component. "I know you too well. You are mine, after all."

Just like that pesky girl out there... Too bad she'd been disobedient one too many times. Oh well... He would let her have her fun, and she then would die.

She'd taken her eyes off of her real target for too long. Another damn mistake. Before she knew it he'd armed himself, and had launched an attack she couldn't avoid.

The loss of her kneecap was coupled with a near crippling pain, and to make matters worse he was out of her range by the time he lashed out at him. Another of those damned girls had also landed in the arena off behind him, and would no doubt make herself into a fine distraction.

Cursing under her breath, the Greek waited for the Judge's attempt to get past her, opting to use the strength of her good leg to throw herself at him sidelong once he was close enough. The tactic proved useful, when she quickly closed the distance between then, effectively tackling him into the dirt, and claimed a seat on his chest. A flurry of blows rained down on him as quickly as she could; clawing, punching, and ripping at his protective layers.

The less of them he had, the more likely it was that she'd land a killing blow.

Bare hands left imprints everywhere she touched, affecting leather and skin alike as she pressed her attack. Andrea didn't keep track of where she was hitting for the most part, mostly aiming for anything that looked vulnerable with vicious precision. She found after landing her second solid hit, that striking with the butt of her knife made for a more effective punch, and when she spotted a glimpse of exposed flesh, she flipped the blade around and made to drive it in.

One clean stroke brought an ugly wound and blood started to pool. She drew her blade back again, switching to the other side where she'd managed to rip away a large portion of his mangled armor. The point of her weapon made contact... but stopped there. She didn't have time to puzzle over why her knife had refused to bury itself in his chest... as he threw her off a moment later.

Landing on her bad knee caused her to falter, but Sloth covered her by launching an attack of his own at the masked man.

She didn't believe it... He had one of the wires in his hand. He'd known all along? A grim frown settled on her lips, and she curled over to cover her face with her hands. How long had he known...?

"I don't blame you, though. It's his fault. He tainted your mind. We'll have you fixed in no time, though. The foolishness of it all, him thinking you could do this... You could never kill me. I could be about to press the kill switch on the world and you would still love me way too much."

He thought it was the Judge's idea. That she'd been brain washed into agreeing to kill herself, and Roach, for him. The very idea made her want to laugh... Instead, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes. His words hit her harder than she cared to admit, not because it showed a level of how far gone he was, but because they were true. Part of her knew it, too. That she couldn't have activated the bomb even if she wanted too, because she still loved him too much. Reaching down to grab the bag he'd spoken about, Megan hefted it over the edge the alcove she shared with him, into the arena below.

Parts and pieces of the bomb meant to take the both of them out scattered across the dirt in every direction. Megan lifted her eyes from them, to Roach.

"It wasn't his idea, Greg." Fueled purely by the knowledge that if she didn't stop him many more would suffer, Megan was up on her feet and pressing the point of her knife between the plates of Roaches armor in an instant. She'd had a lot of time to train with the Judge, not that she was perfect or in anyway better than she'd been before... but she at least knew where to aim, and how to get it there quickly.

"It was all me..." She pressed the point of the blade into the fold of his chitin armor, where enough pressure would send it through the soft flesh between, and into his heart. She'd agonized for days trying to figure out the best method of killing him, and considering that had been the now useless bomb, she had to move on to an alternate plan. All it would take was one... more... thrust...

But... then she hesitated. She could have drove it in all the way. Ended the nightmare right then and there and then hurried to get back to the Judge's side... but she froze instead.

You could never kill me...

...She couldn't.

Before he knew what'd hit him, he was on the floor. That was it; he was just too damned tired to avoid her pounce, even if her leg was ruined. He tried his best to cover himself from the blows and strikes and rained in on him, but it was just that; a futile attempt to block rain with one's hands. He felt the feeling of scratch after scratch, the wounds hardening like rock as he gasped for some sort of foothold. A growl of pain ripped from his throat as a blade found its way into the meat of his arm, and pulled out, only to seek a fatal blow afterward.

It failed to find that blow, instead meeting an impassable wall; his ability.

NOW! It was his only chance; He got a hold of her, and forced her from him with a mighty heft, rolling to his feet just in time to feel a familiar object being tossed from the hand signaler off to the side... An belt with several J-shaped slivers of metal attached to it. He grabbed it out of the air just in time for another familiar shape to start moving. A confident hand pulled one of the blades, and snapped it out, placing it perfectly between the two fangs of the large snake lashing out at him. A burst of energy ended that tale real quick, splitting poor sloth's head into two very dead halves.

He strapped on the arm belt with practiced ease, ignoring the deep pain in his arm as he acted. He had to capitalize on the distraction of Sloth's death. Two more thrown projectiles, aimed at her spitters, seemed like a good deal of capitalization.

A silent thank you went out to the unknown figure in the crowd, and Megan for most likely arranging it... He wondered how she was doing up there, but didn't have the capacity to reach out and feel. He just had to trust she was in control.

"It wasn't his idea, Greg. It was all me..." He stared at the fight, though it failed to catch his focus. He didn't say a word as he felt metal against his carapace... She knew just where to put the blade, though it was the one in his back that made him hurt. Was this how he would die?

It was fitting. Nice, even. Maybe... Maybe they could die together... With smiles on their faces.

He waited for her to press the blade into him. She didn't.

He turned to look to her... His eyes stared into hers, and saw love. Not that mushy kind you threw about to any passerby who laid in your bed... Or even the kind you gave to the person who placed a ring on your finger. This was the kind that was without condition. He wondered if he even had the capacity for that kind of love.

He supposed at this point, it didn't matter. A hand on his chest reached up and gently grabbed the blade, peeling it from her hands, and tossing it into the arena along with the discarded bomb. With his main set of arms, he embraced her, holding her very close for a moment. "I'm sorry. I must have driven you to this... You would only even try if you had no choice." Was it hollow that the whole time he spoke, his sharp chest hands dug into her flesh, and gently touched her heart? All it took was a little cut, and the organ gave up. He tried to be quick with it. Gentle.

"Something must be wrong with me. Perhaps the same thing that is wrong with the world... But I promise you... I'll fix it. I'll make it right." He broke the embrace, and held her steady gently with on hand, placing the other softly on her cheek... And then he let go, allowing her to follow her knife to the floor of the arena.

In the end, he felt a void in his chest that he wished the knife could have filled as he plopped down into his seat. He wondered if this was what it was like to lose someone you truly loved.

He materialized those damn weapons as if out of the very air, and suddenly Sloth was dead weight. A flash of agony zipped through her, setting all of the nerves up and down her spine on fire. An inhuman growl left her lips, but before she could gather herself up or another attack, two more snakes dropped from the battle.

"Aiie!" Hands flying to her hair, she felt the blood flow. Squeezing her eyes shut couldn't stop the panic that filled her, the brief flare of terror. He was going to eat her! No! No!! That was just a #$%@ing MEMORY! It wasn't real!

He was starting to get to her again... slip in past the armor she'd set up to rile the broken parts beneath. "Stop it!" Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to drop her hands from her face, locked her eyes on her target through the pain and threw herself at him again. Two more powerful slashes at his chest severed another chunk of armor, but she couldn't seem to land a hit. He'd slowed her down by crippling her knee, and had taken long range attacks out of the game. Even sloth was useless now, a slowly bleeding handicap that left a decent trail of red wherever she moved in a frantic, agitated trail.

Moving in to slash again, she felt something warm smack into her back, and suddenly there were hands tugging at her hair and snakes. The Greek cursed, dragged off course by the clone she'd chosen to ignore before her attack could hit.

The duplicate tugged on hair and snake alike, her legs wrapped around the Gorgons waist and locked firmly in place, while the snakes hissed and snapped at her. A few managed to sink in fangs, but other than causing her concentrated burning pain, and wounds that would stick around until she melted later, they didn't distract her from remaining on the offensive.

When Andrea finally managed to reach back and secure a grip on the child's throat, prying her off like a human-sized leech, she tossed the girl away from her and tried to collect herself.

She didn't know what to do... Her only weapon was gone, and she'd failed her mission. He was still alive, and if she knew him like she thought she did... she would soon not be. Everything was lost... because of her. Letting her cheek rest against him, she didn't bother to fight the embrace. Tears distorted her vision, escaped, and were soon rolling down her face, and his armor.

It felt like one of those moments when you are supposed to have a lot to say. Some kind of confession... some kind of hateful, angry slur. She had nothing. Not a single thing to say.

"I'm sorry. I must have driven you to this... You would only even try if you had no choice."

The pain was... intense. The single most painful thing her body had ever been though. In some distant, sick way though, it was nothing when compared with the mental anguish she'd gone through years before. When he'd died on her the first time.

She struggled though, weakly... more of her bodies natural fight to stay alive than anything conscious. She even made the most terrible sounds, like a dying animal, until he nicked her heart and everything just... stopped.

She could still hear it beating for a second or two, in her ears... and then slowly, that faded as well. His visage dimmed as she closed her eyes and leaned on him fully. Before he'd finished speaking words that she could no longer hear; before her body slipped over the edge, or crashed onto the cold, hard arena floor below....

...She was gone.

Even after his successful string of attacks, she wasn't letting up. There was only a short pause as she yelped, and then yelled for him to stop... They were way past that. This was going to end in one of two ways, and neither of them involved both of them leaving here alive.

She came in for another string of attacks, subtle jukes and dodges helped him avoid any direct blows, but he did get a few more cuts out of it, and his armor was literally hanging by scraps. He would have to end this fight soon if he wanted to grab Megan and...

What was that? Something was falling from the balcony. Had she done what she'd set out to do? No... The body was too small... too familiar. A small child jumped on the gorgon, affording him the perfect chance to finish her... but he didn't even notice.

As if in a dream, he numbly floated toward her, feeling her out with his sense until he came to a stop at her side, and sunk down slowly to his knees. He didn't need to check her pulse, or feel for breath... her heart was still. It was broken.

The promise was broken. The flame was out. There was nothing left.

Well... Almost nothing.

A flying J cut through the bindings holding the girl to the top of the dome. "Run... Someone has killed the guards." It was true... One by one the five gunmen aiming at the arena had been dispatched... "Don't ask questions. Just go. And live."

"Andrea Gordon."

He wavered as he stood, and seemed almost as if he would fall over. Her face was engraved in his mind... Into his very being. It had changed slowly throughout the year they'd spent together... So had her heart. She'd become such a strong person. A good person.

"Crime... Murder."

A hand moved up to his chest plate, and with a solid yank, he broke the last strap holding it into place. The hand print on his chest, her very own, showed her who her executioner would be. The crowd watched in a transfixed silence as he shot forward with blinding speed, guiding a boot to kick her other knee in sideways.

"Sentence..." A finger was place squarely against her forehead... He had just enough energy to end this... For a moment, he couldn't help but open his eyes and try to see her own... It was just a blur.

"Andrea Gordon."

She whipped back around, the body of the second dead clone clutched in a curled fist. Her knife was stained red, and she was on the verge of losing herself again. She snarled at his words in response. The pot calling the kettle black. Murderer. Murder didn't exist in her world. Murder implied that the thing dying was worthy of life in the first place.

The angry, resentful comeback she had already waiting on the tip of her tongue was stopped short the moment she laid eyes on the scar he wore. It was too old to be from their last encounter... and she was sure that she hadn't been able to land significant hits on him that time, anyway. But.. there was definitely something familiar about it, eerily so, that captured her attention and held it.

It hit her seconds before he took her violently off her feet. Her eyes widened, shock written all over her face. "...S-Saphirus...?" How long had it been since she'd said that name? Since the day she'd left his body behind, sure that he was nothing more than carrion food. That part of her that she'd been struggling to hold back, the part that she kept hidden from the world because she needed to seem strong and terrifying, came rushing forward. She shook, unable to control herself, and stared at him-- through him-- to another time.

First dates... fireworks.. his lips against hers and the booming in her chest... Waking up in his bed... picnics... the way her hand fit just perfectly into his....

She'd killed him, she knew she had... and yet here he was, alive, and... and... He was going to kill her. Truly, someone was having a good hearty laugh somewhere. The fates had thrown her into such chaos, ripped her love from her when she had only just begun to settle in, and then in the end they brought her back together with him.

She should have felt happy, because he was back now, and that meant they could walk off into the sunset, hand in hand. They could be together forever, and she'd always feel complete.... she could let go of all the demons that had shaped her into such a monster, because he was back to keep them at bay while she was wrapped safely in his arms... right? No. She wasn't foolish enough to believe in that fairy tale logic anymore. The fact that he was alive and breathing before her filled her with an emotion all right, rage. Complete, overwhelming... fury. He had been the Judge the whole time? Even before the city had fallen.. he'd been the masked Vigilante out murdering people? She felt like an idiot.

As she looked up at him, the surprise and confusion in her expression gradually shifted to hurt, before it faded away completely. She still shook, but it was from anger now. "....you... you didn't tell me?" She flat out ignored what he'd been saying before. She didn't care what he was sentencing, not in the slightest. "...You didn't tell me you were alive..." She still knew herself well enough to know that if she'd found out before meeting him the first time, who he was, she'd probably have dropped everything to give being with him one last shot. Instead, she'd spent the time between finding out that she "killed" him, to the present day, torturing herself every moment she had alone.

All of the blood on her hands could have been avoided if she'd known that the man she'd loved was still alive. She felt like telling him about how she'd waited for him after the first blast. For days and days, she'd waited. Then she wanted to tell him about Charlie, and how she went to the mansion to find him... and how she'd kept hope alive for months and months, never truly giving up until the day her child was taken from her... She wanted to tell him that she thought she had died that day, until she'd killed a random wanderer running at her, and it had turned out to be him. That day... she'd died inside.

No words left her lips as she stared up at him blankly. Instead, she stared up at him, not bothering to move away from the finger he had touching her forehead. All of the physical pain in the world wouldn't make her feel any better... he would still walk away, and she would die. She wanted him to suffer as she had... She wanted him to feel the same kind of pain.

"This... is the first time I have been able to look you in the eyes, and tell you I love you."

He stood perfectly still as she spoke. His breath, his beating heart, the pains all over his body, and deep in his chest... They were all of him. He hadn't pulled the trigger yet... He couldn't. He needed something... Maybe she could say just the right thing, and he could embrace her... They could leave this horrible place and live happily ever after.

What a sad, pathetic thought that was. It hurt even deeper to even think of it. She'd crossed a line. She had become something the Andrea he knew... The real Andrea, would never think to become. Maybe that was his fault. Maybe he didn't look hard enough for her. Maybe if he'd told her who he was the first time he'd met her, when she'd already killed that poor family... Maybe things would have been different.

But those things didn't happen. You only ever got one shot at life, and the cards had fallen this way; He was the Judge. She was a murderer. He had to do his job.

"This... is the first time I have been able to look you in the eyes, and tell you I love you."

His eyes closed again. Of course.

"Death."

CRACK!

Her body fell to the ground. The crowd around them cheered. He didn't hear them; didn't feel them. All he felt was his breath, his beating heart, the pains all over his body, and deep in his chest.

He knelt, a blind hand searching for her own, and finding it within moments. It was still warm.

A breath in. Thump thump, thump thump.

He grasped the hand tightly in his own, feeling the pain as the venom started to seep into his fingers.

A breath out. Thump thump, thump thump.

He lifted the hand to him, and placed it upon his chest... It still fit perfectly.

A breath in. Thump thump, thump thump.

"I love you too."

Thump thump... Thump. Thump.