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During all of this, CAT became frantic as the screaming scared her down the her living bones. Some dark monster like things, which were heartless but CAT was too far to see, came out and CAT's first action was to take cover by the baral she was near.

However, the girl had caught some words from the girl in red she thinks she met not too long ago. 'Deep Dive', 'infection','heart' and a few other possible key points were luckily to waft by CAT's ears and she became afraid but alert at the same time. Whatever this is, it could be bad since it seems to turn people into monster things, as CAT seen from the distance she was.

Shivering in fear, but her curious nature got in the way, CAT slinked closer toward whatever was going on at that house, even though the chances of her being infected is higher than the other people closer to the source...which at that moment CAT had no idea what would happen next. Now a good hearing and seeing distance away, CAT peeked from the barel she was using as a cover and listened in.

The Chaser stood silently from a distance to observe the ruckus. He had been busy escorting the Traverse Town civilians to safer areas before finally rendezvousing with the others. What was really happening now? The cobblestone was starting to stain black as the heartless advanced. Like the sand between the stone, the black ink-like substance began to fill in the crevices. He doubted the the stone would ever regain it's true colors now. Kneeling down, he ran his fingers across the infectious substance only to find that the darkness had already merged with the cobblestone. If they didn't stop its progression now then soon all of Traverse Town would be engulfed in darkness. When the keyblade master looked into the eyes of the heartless he saw no traces of their once beloved friend and neighbor. He looked away in shame, but only for a second. The eyes of the heartless seemed to pull him closer, as if it wanted to fill in the gaps in his heart. Even the hairs on his arm seemed to pull forward the longer he stared at the heartless...No, the Infected.

He drew his rapier in preparation, but even then he had no idea what to be prepared for. Not now. All he knew was that he had to keep his distance or else he'd be taken too. In fear for once, he inched his way to the battlefield. If anyone happened to be infected what were they to do? With no sign of a cure or a reversal he could only question what they would have to precaution. What was also strange about the setting was that he saw no sign of any other heartless. Heartless usually, if not always, traveled in groups. It almost appeared as if the Infection itself frightened the heartless. When the Chaser reached Zife and Thrrais, he raised his rapier in a defensive stance. "What are we doing...?" Prinzaku asked the two in dismay. How could they hope to survive this fight when they had no plan in order? They couldn't retreat either...Unless they wanted Traverse Town to be a cesspool of Infected.

Three dark portals opened in the Third District, and three white-robed figures stepped out of them. Standing still a moment, the smallest of the trio spoke up softly. "She is nearby, I can sense it. Follow me." She turned and ran through the gate to the Second District, leading her companions quickly to the house where the Chasers were holding the Infected at bay. Outside the house, the other two quickly summoned a small squad of Servitor soldiers who surrounded the house, glittering scimitars and heavy blasters in hand as their masters approached the door quickly.

Dorinda nodded her head, though she was still confused on who the man was talking to and the way he was acting to her. She sheathed Sin (k) back into its sheath, nodded towards Rix and both of them jumped onto the heartless as well. With one on each side of the heartless that appeared to have been a friend of Thrias and Prinz, they grabbed the arms of the creature and pinned them down, trying to avoid the scratches and the biting the creature tried to inflict upon them.

Rix made a quick glance at Thrais. "Are you saying you guys found a way to get there? To Deep Dive? How and when did you found this out???"

Dorinda did a small look at her "twin". "Can this wait till after we get there? Stop biting you stupid thing!" She glared at the monster itching to hit it.

Their leader raised a hand, stopping the others in the doorway as she examined the scene, listening to Thrais' revelation. "Interesting...Supreme must be notified at once. See to it, Tycho, and hold a containment pattern in case it tries to bolt." One of her companions nodded, stepping back through the door and taking direct control of their retinue, ready to mow down any unwanted visitors that should come while his focused on the more important matter.

To Thrais, the outsiders looked like rag dolls, pieces of patterns and weaves stitched together by some obscene dark force, save for their leaders. Their native threads burned brightly, a cage of light tightly bound around fragments of shadow that had been twisted through them in a crude yet almost masterful way. The three leaders were each a unique mesh of light and dark, and each bore the signature of the same crafting hand- as did the girl who had followed them from Port Royal.

Isabel merely nodded a confirmation, pushing her former captive back towards the door. A gust of cold wind whistled around her blade, making the enchanted steel sing excitedly. Her pattern pulsed brightly and seemed to breathe, and there was something tangibly familiar about it, as if Thrais had seen it before somewhere. But what stood out the most was the weave of flickering threads around the young woman's eyes, as if the pattern of space were pulled, bunched and tangled around them. The threads were dark now, but sparks danced along them like the faint glow of flame at the wick of a snuffed candle. With a whispered, "I have him," Isabel cut across and behind the Infected and slashed fiercely at the thing's back.

[x]

The gravity of the situation felt only heavier in the direct presence of this Infected creature, but the silenced warrior listened intently to the words Thrais spoke. It felt unreal. To be this close to the suffocating void once again, and this time, they were to step into the depths of its domain. Deep Dive. It was as if the name itself was alive, pulsing in her head as if with a threat, and Alice further tightened her grasp on her blade. The familiarity was unsettling; she felt the pull of the darkness inching towards her core. The woman wasn't so pure yet after all. While she could still wield her weapons, while the traces of her former self remained--that would always be the truth. She could not speak as long as Shackle remained in her hand, but it gave her the strength she would need in facing an enemy she was not familiar with. However, like all her weapons, the seven-bladed sword was a part of her soul. Yet it radiated with such dark energy. A pure black energy that connected with her vessel, reaching into its center to feed it the power she needed for battle. There was no mistaking it, the blade was weapon that rested in the shadows of her soul. Mako, darkness--these allowed Shackle to serve its purpose. It wasn't all that bad. This was the only way she would be allowed to stay whole even when submerged in the coldest depths of the dark.

And the SOLDiER had her orders. The light would always draw the darkness to it. That would not do for her purpose. They said you should fight fire with fire. Alice would use the dark to stab the darkness in the back.

Holding a straight face, the young woman shifted the weapon in her hands, pointing it down diagonally to her side as she swiftly went forth. The closer she was to the creature, the more violent the blade in her hand became. It had begun to shake in her fierce grip the moment she drew it out, as if excited by the presence of this strange new foe. Alice knew why, and she would have to use that to her advantage. It felt bitingly cold in her hand, and were she not wearing gloves, she was sure it would burn right through her skin. As much as Alice Breaker hated fighting, Medea Ender lived it. That was a soldier's only way. Her eyes for the slightest instant glowed that familiar electric green as she rapidly closed in on her target, spun right before it as she ferociously brought all seven blades up across the creature's body.

Just as she expected, the weapon liked this--this contact with its own kind. And as the blades connected with the creature, Alice felt the dark void pull against her, as if it were taking back what belonged to it. Through her own weapon, wrapping around her hands, crawling towards her arms and reaching further still. She grimaced. The proximity was suffocating. The warrior could succumb to this, but she wasn't that weak. She wouldn't let it overcome her. Not a second time. Instead, she used this gravitation to pierce the endless dark, twisting the blade as if to bury it in as she practically dug her feet into the ground.

His hard, gray-blue eyes regarded Maki for a moment. His mind reeled back to the Chaser's would-be final assault those few years ago. A smirk crossed his lips, but left as quickly as it appeared.

"Apparently not." Syric's response was flat and as cold as the ice crawling across the floor.

While his apprentice kept the "heartless" occupied, the large man wound rings of frost around the creature's form from a distance. Though it grated immensly on his nerves to be gentle, the only outward display of this was the sudden clench of his powerful fists. A loud crack! filled the air as the frost surged forward, upward, and outward, resulting in a thick layer of ice. It covered the heartless' lower body and pinned it's feet to the ground.

He wasn't sure how long it would hold but, if he concentrated on it, Syric figured it would at least hamper the beast. The retired assassin knew just how quickly a plan could turn south, however, and decided not to become overly confident. While keeping a hand clenched, channeling enough energy and moisture to keep the ice solid, Syric's free hand pulled a saber free of it's scabbard. His whole body tense, the towering warrior adopted a defensive stance.