Weeks of work had culminated in the upcoming bust. Cafas had donned his blue and yellows for the occasion. These guys were big time. Judge big time. The people they worked for anyway.

Word on the street was, a large quantity of illicit substances were being traded in the third floor of the basement garage under the condemned apartment building. Brooklyn had seen a rise in those. It was getting more and more of a reputation, especially after the riots.

Alright, should be soon.

Cafas had dug up everything he could without attracting too much attention, or so he hoped. No more than any drug operation ever got looked into anyway. He had way more info for all that though. He knew what was being traded, and he knew it was worth millions.

The parties were a bit harder to find. He didn't have anything solid, but he figured under questioning they'd probably find out.

There would be guns. There were always guns. He had a unique advantage against guns however. They were never as effective as the wielders hoped.

Deep breaths, mentally preparing. He saw the movement. The furtive looks, the guns, the trunk being popped. This was it. The other party had a duffel out already.

Long strides, chest out, chin up, mean and disapproving expression. His baton hung loosely in a ring at his hip, paint chipped back to the metal on the handle. His hand was wandering toward it. No, look confident, act indestructible. There was a lot to be said for intimidation.

"Drop the bags and weapons, hands where I can see them. You're all under arrest."

His voice was well trained. It was loud, commanding, confident, it went with the X-man image.

The smirks and laughter suggested they did not intend to co-operate. Such a shame...

"You all alone X F**? You must be stupider than you look."

Cafas knew the game from here. A gun began to rise. That was all he needed. The baton was in his hand. Swing, connect, the one with the shotgun dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Is was his symphony. He stood before the city like a conductor, a stolen wand waving about as if the chorus were his to command. Who was to say it was not?

The police? The Riots saw the cause of chaos, the cause of change, stronger than it had ever been. It had been his opening chord, and so, so many more would play. Even now, he facilitated hundreds of transactions across the city. They men in blue had successfully gotten in the way of zero of them. So easy were they to string along when you saw their every move.

Still, it appeared some oddities did so enjoy slipping between the tracks. A different type of man in blue had opted to be persistent in poking his squeaky clean little fingers into a mess best left dirty. He was one of those... X-men... Silly, really. What effect could a few human pandering mutants have on the grand scheme of things? Insignificant fools, all of them.

"Tell me only the good news, Vinchenso, Daddy dislikes a sour note." The little bug landed and scurried on over, chittering in his ear before quickly skittering off before the ire could rise.

SNAP! "HOW AM I TO WORK IN SUCH CONDITIONS?!" Chitinous hands tossed aside the bisected wand, ignoring the sounds of it's inevitable impact with the ground. Every reasonable audience member knew you never interrupted art in progress.

He hopped from the ledge of the building he'd skittered up at the beginning of the night. A vigilante was apparently spying on one of his shipments; To make things worse, it was one of Lenna's shipments. These shipments were quite lucrative, and they allowed him to allocate more resources to his plans, which in turn kept the eyes off of Lenna's dealings. It was a delicate balancing act that some daft imbecile was aiming to topple.

His hand wandered over to his buggy temple, where he rubbed, even though it had no effect. "Oh well... I am nothing if not well verse in improv. We shall see if we can't turn this sour note into something more pleasant! Vinchenso, I know you are still there... Fetch the duelist. He should do nicely."

With that, he was off into the city; After all, he couldn't write the notes of this X-Man's dirge without viewing the paper, and gripping the pen!

* * *

Dodson wasn't the smartest person. That didn't matter when you had a big gun and bigger huevos. So when an honest to goodness X-Man popped in to visit him and his buddies during a completely legit business transaction, how else could they respond, but by trying to blow his brains out?

Unfortunately for Dodson, he'd opted to be the closest guy to the Alchemist when he'd expressed that totally natural reaction.

WHACK! He dropped like a sack of... huevos.

His buddies were definitely smarter, and better coordinated. That's why when they pointed their guns, one of them definitely didn't have the safety on, and another definitely didn't accidentally miss and shoot the one across from him in the big toe.

Smooth. One of them had a baseball bat, though, and that was definitely easier to operate than a gun. He swung it at Cafas while the other's got their stuff together.

BLAM! BLAM!

They would need to try a different tactic on Cafas.

THWACK!

Oh...

He blinked back spots, really grateful for the glancing blow. Cafas spun unsteadily to face the batter.

BLAM!

Liquid metal droplets sprayed from his swinging hand.

CRACK

His assailant spun away clutching his jaw. Another was howling in pain on the ground, clutching his foot. Blood spilled through his fingers.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Right, there were still others.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

They seemed scared. Panicky. Emptying the clip. They were not prepared.

Cafas turned slowly to face them. Liquid metal poured down his chest and neck. Bullets vapourised against his face. He looked for the most frightened one.

"You have to the end of the magazine to surrender."

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

<sub>click

click</sub>

Clatter

"I'll go quiet now! I swear!"

His friends didn't seem to agree, they ran for new weapons.

Cafas had already started his attack.

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

Cafas smiled darkly.

"Too late."

Now where were the others?

They had failed at their simple mission. This was of no consequence; not to the one who was sent to rectify this. On the other hands, the consequences for the laughable toadies would be quite dire.

Chin-Chin-Chin! The testing of an instrument; it wouldn't be very loud, it might not even be noticeable to the shining night, lest he noticed the wounds opening up on the downed men around him, or the subtle wiggles in the air, traveling to vital areas and ripping open just enough flesh to do the job.

One man was running; A soft note made him falter and fall, a couple more opened up an artery.

The duelist walked out into the street to inspect his handywork. He'd just earned 3 grand per head, after all... And that wasn't for the big fish. The man, roughly 6 feet tall, was dressed to the T in concert garb, sporting a top hat and a rather expensive looking violin.

"You're the reason I was sent? Oh my; I thought this job might be dangerous. Well, better safe than sorry, no?"

Chin-Chin-Chin~

Three small notes sent very dangerous wiggles through the air in the X-man's direction. The Duelist turned to walk away, as if his job were already done.

"You're the reason I was sent? Oh my; I thought this job might be dangerous. Well, better safe than sorry, no?"

Cocky little s*** wasn't he? Cafas spun to face him. Okay not so little, reasonably tall. Also dressed even more strangely than Cafas.

Chin-Chin-Chin~

Lines in the air, and Cafas REALLY didn't like the way he just turned away. He threw himself out of the way. The notes struck the car and bit into the metal and plastic. Boy was he glad he'd moved.

Looks like lethal force just got authorised.

"Your D string sounds a little sharp there."

X-men battle rule #46: Always taunt your enemy with appropriate puns for the situation.

This seemed like the perfect time for some armour.

Cafas touched the point where the mutant's attack had bitten through the car's paint.

"The same can not be said for you."

Boil that bit, bend that bit, shape that bit. What once had been the hood of the car was now a shield. A lovely red tower shield. Cafas advanced on the other mutant.

Cafas was grateful for an older model of car. Steel made a much better shield than lighter metals they liked to use in newer cars.

Who had a good seat?

Roach had a good seat!

He was perched on the roof of a nearby building, in a lawn chair; How did he acquire it, you ask? STOP ASKING QUESTIONS! He gnawed absentmindedly on the baton he'd been waving about earlier; it was quite delectable. The dark figured watched as the Duelist started his attack, killing the expendables first; oh, good. Roach didn't exactly take kindly to failure, and they were all human, so it wasn't exactly a sad loss..

The Duelist then announced himself, and promptly attacked. Could he frown, The bug might have? Would that be the start and end of it? How disappointing! What did he pay this guy for, again?

But wait. The X-Man dove out of the way, and then made a shield out of a car... Roach sat up in his chair. My, this might be worth the money, after all!

* * *

The Duelist paused in mid step as the Alchemist quipped. "Hilarious." He jabbed dryly.

"Well, then, my friend, it looks like I will be putting on a bit more of a show than I thought. I warn you though, if the devil himself could not beat me, I don't think you will."

He readied his instrument, dancing back as the man, weighed down by a shield, approached. As he moved, his bow ran across it's instrument, making sweet, high noes ring out, and lash at the shield. The notes would dig into the metal, but the attack was mainly meant to seek out any holes in his defense and open up little cuts.

"Hilarious."

Well, Cafas had thought the puns funny...

"Well, then, my friend, it looks like I will be putting on a bit more of a show than I thought. I warn you though, if the devil himself could not beat me, I don't think you will."

"Ah, Georgia, I thought I recognised that accent." Cafas ducked behind his shield as best he could. Blood welled from a few cuts across his shins and one across the head. The X-man stood as the assault ended. "I'd assumed the gold to be tacky paint."

He closed in, the man danced away again. Well he sure was light on his feet. Cafas did have the advantage that the man clearly did not guess at just how fast he was himself, else he'd have put more distance between them. He smiled over his shield at the man. "Never underestimate your opponent."

Quick as a flash Cafas charged in, and when he was right next to the musician sung his shield hard into his back, trying to knock his opponent flat on his face.

The Duelist watched as some of his attacks found purchase, but not as much as he'd hoped. Moving backwards was challenging, when trying to match speed with someone who was moving forward; Cafas was nearly on top of him before too long.

He cursed under his breathe as the Aussie charged in and attempted to lay him out. A blast of pressure rocked out as the assassin aimed his instrument at the ground and ran the full bow across all of the strings aggressively in one wave.

CCHHHHNN-VWOOOSH!

A burst of air followed by a shockwave would likely send both of them flying a worrying distance in opposite directions.

The attack may have bought him some time, but the Duelist clearly felt the effects of it as well. He climbed up from the ground, his tailored suit in disarray, his hair unkempt. "You've done it, now, you little shit..." He seemed far less composed than before. "I'll make you bleed from every inch of your body. You will know PAIN, and then I will KILL YOU..." He huffed. Was that a chuckle off in the distance? Roach's amusement at the scene would be audible to careful ears.

And then nothing else would be.

The wide eyed angry composer started his tune. A solo that could beat a fallen angel. Waves of sound and air pressure rocked about, slicing chunks out of buildings, crushing and crumpling cars, shattering windows. Roach dove for cover.

There was no aiming, here. Attacks shot out in random directions and intervals. The Duelist stood still in the center of his stage, seemingly oblivious to the outside world.

Now, Cafas was heavy. At 6' 3, training every day of his life, with a naturally bulky build, he was clocking in well over 250lb. Keep that in mind.

Cafas did not like the duellist's wind up. As he watched him bring the bow across the strings he liked it even less. Then he found out why. The blast rocketed the X-man across the parking lot.

CRASH

Cafas stood up from what had formerly been a perfectly good car. Now it was mostly metal nicely formed around every non-metal piece of the car. It had cushioned the blow, but certainly not enough in Cafas' opinion.

"You've done it, now, you little shit... I'll make you bleed from every inch of your body. You will know PAIN, and then I will KILL YOU..."

"I've killed worse than you. I've bled for better. Known pain you couldn't begin to imagine. None of it killed me. Neither will you."

The bow raised, then all hell broke loose. Cafas dove for cover. Cover practically exploded as a shockwave hit it. That did not bode well. Cafas scrambled to his feet, shield forgotten in favour of mobility. The car he ran for crumbled in front of him as he slid to a desperate stop. Cafas looked up just in time to see a similar shockwave coming right at him.

Through more arse than class he avoided it, dodging out of the way. A rain of concrete dust and pebbles fell on him. This had to be stopped quickly. The guy was going to bring down the building, and several around it. Probably kill someone too.

A length of metal pipe flew through the air. No doubt some vital car part. Cafas grabbed it, an action his hand regretted immediately. He bit back the gasp of pain. The time for play was over. Cafas flattened out the metal into a blade. Then he charged headlong at the duellist.

The world was shattering all around him. Clouds of cement dust erupted, Glass shards flew through the air, cars turned into unrecognisable wrecks. He knew he had to stop this guy fast.

Uh oh...

He saw it a moment too late. A shockwave advancing alarmingly towards him. there was nothing he could do. It hit him hard and rocketed him back. Something in him knew he was dead if the fight didn't end right then. That part of him had no intention of letting that happen. That part was his X-gene. It activated. Oh boy did it activate.

Above the chaos he heard a crack, much as he felt the pipe-come-blade leave his grip. All he saw was the aftermath. A splintered violin, and what remained of it's owner.

...

He'd never stood a chance. Slightly over a pound of solid metal going slightly over Mach 3. It had passed through him, his instrument, and the solid concrete wall behind him.

...

Cafas felt faint. His head hurt like crazy. His vision was swimming. He knew it had nothing to do with being hurled dozens of yards. He knew because the feeling was familiar, from days long past when he was still finding his limits. He wanted to be violently sick, but he couldn't. He picked himself up unsteadily, holding on to what had once been a solid concrete pylon.

Trying to clear his head and vision he looked around. The paperwork on this one was going to be a nightmare.

Somewhere, nearly a mile away, an unrecognisable lump of metal embedded itself in the road.

My, oh my, what a show this was! Before he knew what was what, Roach was standing, his cover forgotten as the solo raged on. It was beautiful...

This was the power of mutant kind. The world crumbled before them, streets made by man quaked and crumbled, and they wondered why some mutants thought they should be on top? They were better. And truly, the Soloist was a shining example of that superiority. How would this X-man fare?

That was the question of the day. It was like seeing a spider tossed into a cage with a scorpion.

This was a battle for survival of the fittest.

As the Australian was thrown through the air, it appeared as though the scorpion would have his way...

But then... Something happened.

Almost faster than the giant bug could comprehend, the Duelist was gone... once a brilliant and deadly artist, now a red mosaic about the walls and floor.

His head darted about as if to seek some explanation, but it wasn't long before the options where narrowed down... somehow, the X-man had managed this...

Cafas would almost definitely hear the sound of four hands clapping.

"OHHH HO HO! BRAVO, BRAVO! BELLISSIMO! WELL DONE!" He placed his hands behind his back as soon as he'd pulled the man's attention.

"You really are something, aren't you... astonishing! I am a fan, truly... Sad, though, that you fight as a slave to man, and I... Well, I fall on the other side of that thin red line... Because of that, I simply can't let you leave this area alive. You understand."

From behind his back came his signature four thompson machine guns.

BRRRATATATATATATATATTATA!

Wow.

So gun.

So many bullet.