When the Water's Dried

Thirteenth Hour

Happy New Year's Eve!

Ten minutes should be enough time, Diane assured herself. She pulled her hood and mask back over her head. She looked over into the direction of the police station, then the view she currently had of the cityscape. Her mask may have made her look how anyone would view the Crimson Paw: fierce and cunning. But underneath, a mixture of fear and indecisiveness crossed her face.

From here, cruising over to the police station would only at most take a minute thanks to her fancy motorcycle, but she also had to consider the time that would be added the further she went away. She closed her eyes, listening to her words from earlier echoing in her brain.

Luna...I promise, we're gonna save you.

While the trucks were rerouted, dropping the money bags off at their rightful locations, Luna was still in Marmalade's captivity. Brainwashed or not, being in the presence of the Bad Guys now was far more in her best interest. Maybe being surrounded completely by those who cared about her would be enough to wake her up, no matter how cliche that may sound.

Thanks to her sharp vision, which allowed her to view her surroundings up to two hundred and sixty degrees, combined with advantage in noticing movement and contrast, Diane was able to see a lone helicopter sailing through the sky. For a second, a faint, blue glow emitted through the opening.

Having already wasted two minutes from her pondering, Diane headed straight for a stair railing. Using one of her tricks, she lofted her motorcycle off the ground, giving it enough space to land on the railing and accelerate upward. When she reached the end, she pressed down harder on the pedal, skyrocketing through the air before skidding to a halt on a rooftop.

She hopped off her motorcycle and tossed it up, rapidly spinning in the air before converting itself to a briefcase. Now matching the helicopter's altitude a little more, Diane observed it, deciding on which move to make next. The sounds of scampering disrupted her thoughts.

Breaking eye contact from the helicopter, Diane turned to the source of the sound, which were hoards of guinea pigs scurrying up the sides of the buildings and leaping towards her, knocking her off of her feet. Of course, she knew she wouldn't be rescuing Luna without a challenge.

Straightening herself up, Diane leapt up into the air, not letting go of her briefcase. Just as she landed on the other side of the rooftop, another hoard of guinea pigs came pummeling down. Rogue guinea pigs now covered every square inch of the rooftop. Others stood on platforms, prepared to see what Diane was going to do next.

If these were humans or any anthropomorphic animal, Diane wouldn't hesitate to put her combat skills to work. Good thing she had her whip on her. She took it out, waving it around like a lasso before ensnaring several dozen guinea pigs, then flinging them on top of those in the

back, creating a little more space. She repeated the process a few times, never taking her eyes off the helicopter.

Five more minutes.

Locating an opening on a platform between this building and another, Diane vaulted toward it. A barrage of guinea pigs sprung up from below, forming the shape of a massively oversized worm.

Shit.

🐺🐍🦈🐟🕷️🦊🐹🌙🖤

Much like the guards who had her centrally cornered back at the S.U.C.M prison, the guinea pigs were no match for Diane either. But in the chaos and rush to escape, she and her motorcycle made a rocky landing back on the street. Back where she started. She closed her eyes and sighed.