The Trick to Falling in Style

Corruption

Vermillion grabbed hold of a thick rope crossing between two balconies. He pushed his feet off the railing to gain some momentum as he traveled down the length of the clothing line. He lifted his legs up before he dropped down onto a balcony from across the street. He wobbled along the railing, jumping off the side to land in an alleyway between two buildings. He rolled as he landed, popping up right before he slammed into a dumpster. He took a few steps back to put some distance between him and the spray-painted trash collector. He looked around the area he found himself in. It was a standard alleyway with dirty walls and a muddy ground. But, in the mud, there was a set of tracks purposefully made deeper. He followed them.

At the end of the alleyway, right before it deposited back into the street, a young woman was leaning against the corner. She was twisting a knife in her hand. Her sharp glare flickering to anyone who strayed a little too close. When he took a step towards her, she looked over at him. Her expression wavered, but she retained her easy composure. He gave her a half-wave. She didn't return it, instead she spoke, "You've taken so damn long. I already found your lady."

"I got mixed up in some shit. Suffice to say, the Corrupted Cauldron is no longer a problem. The only villain we have left is the Ender Heart," Vermillion told Beau. She was dressed in a black bodysuit with a light brown aviator jacket covering up her wings. She wore thick boots that could mask her talons for a short while. Her eyes were obscured by tinted goggles, the straps hanging loosely around her ponytail. Even with her new appearance, Vermillion could recognize her. It wasn't difficult since he knew what she looked like with and without a mask on, but he knew that other people would have some trouble with it.

"You didn't ask me to find the fucking Ender Heart, whatever the hell that is," Beau said with a glare. She was assuming Vermillion had sent her on a wild goose chase. He had not. Beau would never be able to find where the Ender Heart is, not on her own. The Ender Heart was a monster the scientists of the science facility managed to summon by using the essences of hybrids that were touched with a special property they called the void. The Ender Heart was a pink gemstone surrounded by a silver gyroscope. It managed to project a form that resembled an Endermen, a void Mob that spawned outside the walls, with some modifications. The Ender Heart killed everyone who came near it except for the Arch-Illager and anyone the boss deemed his ally. As a test, Tommy had once been sent in to see if the Ender Heart would kill him or allow him to live. As evidenced now, he was allowed to live and deemed a success. Vermillion doesn't know what became of the Ender Heart after the Arch-Illager defected, but he assumed that Clara was using the beast for her purposes. "You asked me to find-"

"I know who I asked you to fucking find. I'm not an idiot. The only way to find the Ender Heart is to find the Arch-Illager. And the only person who knows where to find him is her," Vermillion started with an eye roll. "Now, where is she?"

"You should have told me that at the beginning," Beau snapped angrily at him. Even as she spoke the words, she was pushing herself off the wall. Her knife slammed still into her palm. She tucked it away in a small scabbard hidden beneath her aviator jacket along her waist. She began to walk down the street. Vermillion followed behind her. He made sure to keep his eyes pinned on her swinging ponytail. It was common knowledge that people shouldn't meet eyes in the Ravine. All that led to was a fight or a persistent salesperson, usually drug dealers and the brothel workers. Vermillion didn't have time for that. They needed to get all of this done as fast as possible.

Beau swung into an alleyway that led directly to the wall. There were a couple of tents set up over here, most people huddling close to the wall to stay away from the filth of the rest of the Ravine. At the very end, cushioned between some random building and the wall was a small shack. It was made from wood, quickly falling apart and audibly creaking. The places where windows would have been were covered by thin curtains sealed shut with clips. The roof was dotted with blank spaces in the shingles. The porch steps were missing a few planks, and the railing devolved into a single beam at the end of the first step. It was a hobbled together place, but it was still standing. It seemed like it could function for a few more months, if not a couple of more years. The toolbox sitting on the porch implied that someone was fixing it up.