Igniting a darkened flame. // SBI

Finding sanctuary.

Prometheus was running.

Because how the fuck did this happen to him.

He panted as he legs slammed against another rooftop glancing over his shoulder to the person behind him. 

"I just want to talk Prometheus, come back." A looming voice yelled.

"Oh yeah sure, why'd you try to fucking stab me then!?" He screamed back not stopping his sprint. 

Ichor, one of the three leaders of the Syndicate, was running after him in the middle of third. Tommy felt anger anger bubble underneath his skin, Villain or not but no one chases him out off his own district.

Ichor laughed dangerously from behind him.

Some people could chase him out of his district, but in Tommy's dense he literally had two boomerangs as his weapon and a tiny dagger the guy had a fucking sword.

 He swore at himself for not covering his forearms as they were now littered with scratches and marks from where he was catching himself on rooftops. Ichor hadn't actually hurt him yet but he did wave a giant blade at him and threatened to stab him, Tommy thinks his reaction was justified. 

Tommy saw the borders of second and stopped in his tracks.

He couldn't fight Ichor there, he couldn't.

The Craft's lived in second.

Wilbur was in second.

Before Ichor could catch up to him he jumped into an alley. He scattered through the alley and cursed under his breath when he found a dead end. He looked around before his eyes landed on an open dumpster.

He grimaced before diving into it slowly closing the lid. He gagged silently at the smell but quickly covered his mouth as he heard footsteps.

"Now were did you go." He heard from the head of the alley.

Slow dragging footsteps echoed bounced along the walls. The footsteps came to an abrupt stop in front of the dumpster, the silence making his breath quicken.

"Shit." Ichor mumbled frustrated and with that Tommy heard receding footsteps.

He dropped the hands from his mouth and let his body go limp with ease. He face screwed up again as the smell hit him full force. He opened the lid slowly, looking around and sighing in relief as he saw nothing. He hopped out of the dumpster and wiped himself for any trash stuck to his clothes.

He forgot to look up.

Footsteps landed right behind him and he felt strong arms wrap around his shoulders and forcing him to his knees. He lit him arms up in flames instantly but stilled as he felt a arm move to his neck squeezing slightly.

"Turn of the fire if you know what's good for you." Ichor growled tightening his grip slightly.

He lowered his hands into a surrendering position before letting the flames retreat back into his skin. He felt the grip on his neck relax slightly but he heard a sword unsheathe beside him.

"If you're going to kill me do it in ninth." He blurted out.

"What?" The Villain said, clearly taken aback.

"I said if you're going to kill me do it in ninth. I am not dying here." He said now with more confidence.

"Why Ninth? It's a wasteland, no point in going there."

"Only a wasteland because of your fucking Syndicate."

"Muse also owns the Syndicate and you like him."