(Been waiting for this moment since I first posted this RP. Ladies, gentlemen, enter Casius Magnus!)



Ana sat in the sand with Stryker's duster covering her bare legs and the zipper of her jacket done up to the chin. She shivered as the sun set. She firmly regreted choosing a skirt again the morning before. She could never have anticipated spending an entire night in the desert. Truth was, she was uncomfortable, home sick and terrified. Still devistated and in shock from the night before. But she blocked it out, keeping the thought of her friends as far from her mind as possible. But the memories would flood back in flashes when she let her focus slip, weighing heavy on her emotions like a vice around her heart, tightening every so often. It didn't help that Stryker had left her alone to gather materials for the fire and perhaps procure some food or a source of neutrition for the journey tomorrow morning. The sun was going down, the air was cooling off and she didn't feel safe anymore. But the large rock formation behind her, and the high dune in front of her would provide decent cover from the elements and any Zenobian troops that may pass by.

As she leaned forward into the warm radius of a small fire, hugging her legs, shaking gently, a tall figure emerged in the corner of her eye to the left. She examined it, assumed it was Stryker, and stood up, intending to help him with whatever he had gathered. Upon a closer look, the shape was very tall, dark, and wide. Stryker was a lean man, tall, but not that tall. Even from a distance, the mysterious form looked very large.

As she examined the approaching figure, she heard a mechanical beep and the scratching sound of radio static followed by a muffled, grainy voice.

"Target confirmed. Take her down!"

As she turned around, praying it wasn't so, six Elite Troopers in black, bullet-proof body armor emerged from behind the rock formation with automatic weapons at shoulder level. Ana froze with terror. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. She hadn't even been out of Zenobia for 24 hours and they had captured her. She should have known better, it all seemed so silly now.

They screamed at her viciously, all at the same time, adding to her fear and sadness.

"Don't ****in' move!"
"Get down, now!"
"Hands in the air!"
"Face in the sand!"
"Down, now!"
"Ana Grace! On your knees. Keep your hands where I can see 'em!"

So many different instructions, it was confusing, but she had no choice but to comply as best she could. They would hurt her, shoot her, or worse. She thought for a moment that she would have been safer in Zenobia, as opposed to the damn desert. She was a needle in hay stack within the city, but she stuck out like a sore thumb in the desert. She had made their job so much easier.

Ana dropped to her knees, hands at her sides avoiding eye contact. She was terrified, and kept thinking they were going to hit her and beat her up. She was worried they would kick her, or strike her face with the butts of their guns. She just didn't want them to hurt her.

The leader of the group whispered instructions to two of the other men while the remaining three held their guns on her chest. The red dots dancing across her breasts scared her to death. She was in tears, sobbing uncontrobably as the leader approached her with a pair of handcuffs. He was rough with her as he slapped them on, pulling on her arms carelessly, locking them so tight they bit into her skin.

When he was done, he stood up, placing the heel of his boot on the back of her head and pushed her face first into the sand. As she tried to roll over, one of the troopers yelled at her again.

"Stay still! Face down!"

She pulled her knees up to her chest, weeping into the sand. It was over. Stryker would come back, they'd kill him in a fire fight, and bring her back to Zenobia. She'd be executed, or spend the rest of her life in a Zenobian prison, raped and beaten until she was old and grey, or dead.

All she wanted was to go home. Spend one more night in her bed, kiss her mother one more time, and tell her sister she loved her once more. Why did she have to be the hero? Why did she have to take matters into her own hands?

None of it mattered now, it was done, and she had to face the music. A feeling of calm began to wash over her. She was still alive, still here to tell their story, and fight another day. Jin, Kato and Willow had paid the ultimate and highest price. She had been spared through it all, despite how bad things seemed.


That's when she felt it. A wave of heat washed over her body, stinging the exposed flesh of her hands and legs. A bloodcurdling scream shot across the desert as bright orange embers danced around Ana, fluttering to the ground as they faded and died. She quickly rolled over to inspect the bizarre commotion.

One of the men was engulfed in flames, rolling around in the sand, kicking and screaming in agony as flame melted fabric to flesh and superheated his body. The other men shouted to one another and scrambled to locate and assess the threat.

Before anyone could make sense of the situation, a bolt of lightning flashed before Ana's eyes, striking one of the men in the chest. The tail of electric energy was gone as soon as it had arrived and a roll of thunder cracked the sky in it's wake as the trooper dropped lifelessly to the sand.

By now the stench of burning flesh and fabric had invaded the air, making Ana gag. She was startled by the sound of rapid gunfire as the four soldiers opened up on something. She followed their aim and to her amazement, she saw a tall, wide man hooded and cloaked in baggy black clothing advancing on the soldiers. The bullets seemed to reflect off of his form, leaving no visible effect on him. The soldiers stepped back as he came closer, and Ana was so terrified she began to pull herself away from them all, crawling and scooting up the dune in a panicked state.

The hooded man began to move faster, gaining quarter on the first soldier. He took two massive strides toward him, his tattered black cloak waving behind him as he grabbed the soldier's assault rifle by the barrel, yanking it from his hands as he landed a swift and powerful push kick to the solar plexus. He tossed the gun in the sand as his victim hit the sand hard, grasping his chest.

He continued toward the men at a growing pace, almost jogging now. One of them began to flee, running in the opposite direction as he quickly realized that his weapon was useless against this man, and that horrified him.

The remaining two stood their ground, falling back on their combat training, instead of their firearms. But they were no match for this man.

He lunged to his right, ducking low and landed a vicious elbow to one of the men's midriff. As the second soldier advanced on him, he moved back to his left throwing a flaming right fist that exploded in the soldier's face, igniting his skull in flames. As he held his face, screaming in pain and collapsed to the sand, the hooded man threw a right chopping blow to the other soldier's throat, dropping him instantly. He stood up straight, and in the distance, another bolt of lightning struck the last soldier down as he sprinted through the desert, yet another clap of thunder peeling across the sky.

Ana gazed at the tall, menacing man, frozen with fear and amazement. He looked to his left, locking eyes with Ana. Beneath the hood she could see no face, no flesh, only shadow, and two bright white eyes glaring back at her.


Stryker appeared at the top of the dune, twin pistols drawn and set their marks on the hooded man. As he focused his aim for the top of the skull, he could have sworn he saw a glint of light flash over the cloaked man's figure. It distracted his aim and startled him.

"Ana?" Stryker called out to her with concern. She didn't reply, and he quickly glanced at her to see if she was okay. That's when he spoke. With a hoarse, deep voice he spoke only three words to them.

"Leave this place."

Stryker's gun sights followed him for what seemed like forever as he calmly walked away, back on the path he had been taking before those fine gentlemen had interupted his travels.

Strykers heart was pounding, and he slowly lowered his weapons as the cloaked stranger got far enough away that he felt the threat was over. He dashed down the side of the dune toward Ana.

"Are you okay?" he asked her intently, cupping her chin in the palms of his hands. She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Get me out of these," she pleaded, pulling her arms around the right side of her body.

Stryker nodded, getting to his feet and approached the wounded men with his pistols locked and loaded.