The Plot Thickens

Assassination.

Weaver had left before Doodle could properly thank him. He couldn't blame the kid, after all, he had just saved his life.

Before he even knew it, Doodle was sprinting to Wings of Fire HQ. He knew if he didn't act fast, all that he knew would be gone. Much to his dismay, he had ended up on the path. The path. The one he had walked many times, the one where he'd been mugged. The one where he had lost.

But there was little time to reminisce. He continued to sprint as though his life depended on it, and it very well could have. But after what felt like hours, he had made it.

"Welcome to flavortown, make sure to read the rules!" A sign wrote. What the fuck.

Ignoring that, he made his way to the front doors of the facility, only to be met by one of the dreaded bodyguards. Thankfully not the one from earlier—this one he didn't recognize.

"Stop. We are currently not allowing any visitors to general chat—there has been an...incident," by the way she spoke, Doodle knew she must have been new to this. Her incredible lack of height added to her insignificant intimidation.

"Incident? What happened?" He asked, furrowing his brow. Had he been too late? Surely not, they couldn't have gone through with it so quickly.

"That is confidential. You may take any business you have to chat 2, if you so desire." What a bitch. If Doodle had ever wanted to kick a child so much in his life, that would be today. Tied for when he drop kicked a baby that one time for vomiting on his lunch.

"Well you see, I am actually a former moderator here. Yeah. But I...retired. So I should be able to see, no?"

"Well...I guess I can make an exception, just this once," She stepped aside, and opened the door, and the sight he saw was horrific. There lay on the floor was (former) moderator Autumnfrost. Surrounding her was police tape, and beside her stood several other admins.

Autumnfrost was dead. Assassinated.