Gladstone only wanted some time alone. Just an hour or two in silence with his own thoughts. That was all he needed to calm down. Instead, he was called in for a meeting with the RHG and the other clan leaders in another town. He didn’t even read what it would be about, sighing in annoyance all the way to the airport. So desperate was he for some silence, which he wasn’t getting from the woman who ignored all requests to tone down the overly loud music emanating from her headphones, sitting to his right, that he didn’t even notice who sat on his left. Aiba, another clan leader. He, in turn, didn’t notice him back. Apparently, something was on his mind as well.

Not even his pixels, trying to calm him down with their wordless attempts at consolation, were succeeding. Only one sat snugly on top of Sebastian’s head as the plane lifted itself from the ground, hidden inside his hair.

But now, due to the negligence of some engineer, there was an engine on fire and a plane bound to crash on the ground. People were in panic, fastening the seat belts they had removed just minutes ago and hugging their loved ones, if there were any, in between screams. Gladstone however, would have none of that. He too was scared, but when he looked out the window again, he realized something.

The plane was falling down way too fast.

If he were to do as the other passengers, he’d likely die alongside them, so he thought of something else. There had to be some parachutes in the plane. If he was quick enough, he might still be able to get one; if not, he’d just have to hope luck was on his side when the plane eventually made contact with the ground.

Practically jumping over the woman that sat next to him, who, until then, was still unaware of what was going on thanks to her music, he darted as fast as he could to the nearest door and looked for a parachute. There were none. Only panicky flight attendants who were insisting that the pixel spawner would go back to his seat. With a less-than-polite shove out of his way, Gladstone succinctly explained why he wouldn’t, his voice filled with threat, and kept going. He could have asked them where the parachutes were, but the thought just never crossed his mind at that time.

There was another door along the way, his seat was pretty much in the front, and he still had to pass through the first class area, which had already seen most of its occupants jump out, probably realizing the same as he did. Unfortunately, the ones that remained had no chutes of their own, so Sebastian pressed on.
It was only when he reached the cargo area of the plane that he found what he was looking for. From above the sea of baggage and crates that were on the right side, there was a straight line of emptiness on the left where he could see there was one last parachute right next to one last door at the very end. The only one out of the obvious five that initially existed.

Then the muffled sound of an explosion came and the plane shook for a few moments, almost throwing the blonde pixel spawner off balance and making the chains holding the various crates and travelling bags that the plane carried break loose, letting some of the luggage fall on the ground. The problem though, came when the chocolate lover felt a hand on his shoulder and heard in a fairly blunt, but somewhat tense tone as Aiba walked past him:

- Sorry, but I’ll be needing that parachute.

He was basically the same height as him; had short, but spiky grey hair; wore a black jacket with a hoodie of the same colour underneath it and in the eyes of Gladstone, he was not going to steal his parachute.

Aiba could not walk more than five steps before it was Sebastian’s turn to grab the other man’s shoulder. This one however, only said a single word, “No.”, before he gave a light kick on the back of his competitor’s knee and pushed him down, continuing on in a hurried pace.

Just moments after, a slight breeze passed by the pixel spawner, quickly followed by a figure of Aiba zipping by him and landing a few meters in front of Gladstone with electricity quickly dissipating from his legs. He didn’t waste time though, raising one of them and delivering a horizontal kick aimed at Sebastian’s chest.

Reacting in time, the pixel spawner instinctively managed to block the attack downwards with his palm, but the other clan leader used that to get a new foothold and spin counter clockwise, going for a circular kick aimed at the blonde’s head with his heel. With barely any time, all the undercover gladiator could do was use his arms as defense and take the blow with a slight grunt, but, when he saw that the black and white aggressor went for a third kick by inverting his spin and trying the move again with other heel, he made use of the opportunity by kicking Aiba in the supporting knee just hard enough to disrupt his balance, nearly forcing him to do a split.

This would have gotten him the time he needed, hadn’t the plane slowly started to tilt to one side, not only disrupting his balance again, but also causing numerous bags to start sliding in both men’s directions. Aiba, being in no position to quickly recover his footing, fell to the side when the plane turned and quickly saw various stray luggage falling on top of him, while Gladstone, who still tried to jump past one of the crates coming in his direction, failed to gain enough height and tripped on it, falling with an unpleasant thud and a painful moan; almost immediately assaulted by a few more bags himself.

Sticking his head out of the pile he was under almost as if he was part of a cartoon, Sebastian removed the rest of his body as fast as he could and made a break for it with the help of his pixels when he saw that Aiba was still preoccupied.

The football-sized white cubes appeared and disappeared from under his feet as needed, giving him the stable footing necessary for him to move towards the parachute unhindered.

And yet he fell. Sebastian, just a few steps away from reaching the parachute fell and was left at the brink of consciousness while something right next to him broke into thousands of little glass pieces and the plane stabilized. A snowglobe. That was what hit him in the back of his head. It was a pretty nice snowglobe. The glass, before broken was thick and on top of its wooden base laid, still glued to it, a small scene of three men in futuristic looking armors, armed with weapons that fired deadly looking green blasts against what looked to be three different types of aliens: a tall and lean one that looked mostly human, a large and bulky one that looked like a brute and a small, almost bug-like one with a huge head and rust-coloured skin. For some reason, one of the soldiers’ armor was in bright pink. That was all he could see, his vision blurry for the most part when he felt himself getting grabbed and unceremoniously thrown against the large cargo door as if he were a sack of potatoes.

- I’m sorry, Gladstone - claimed the white haired competitor in a cold, but determined manner- There’s no way I’m dying here.

There seemed to be more to it than just the unwillingness to die, like something from the whole situation was disturbing him. At that time however, all that the ActaSanctorum’s leader was focused on was in recovering his vision, not even putting time into getting a better answer.

- That’s lovely. - Sebastian slowly replied in sarcasm - But that parachute is mine.

Clarity was returning when the pixel spawner saw that Aiba had just picked up the parachute and was about to open the plane door. At that moment, a third explosion came and the plane shook violently for a few more seconds. The leader of the Wind Chasers couldn’t keep his balance, falling almost immediately with the chute still in his hands while Gladstone, who was on the ground, immediately took the opportunity to sprint towards his opponent as soon as he recovered his pixel footing.

In no mood for chivalry, Sebastian pulled his leg back as soon as he as in range and kicked the rising man in a fashion not too different from how you’d kick a football, pushing him close to the door that they both intended to leave through.

By now, the plane’s shaking had ceased and Aiba, who was probably having some problems with the left side of his jaw, managed to raise himself by using the wall as a support, still holding onto the parachute on his left hand and a bat that had rolled over with the plane’s shaking on the other. With a determination that seemed to border on desperation, the black and white aggressor started swinging the weapon in a frantic, but well chained, pace, trying to mostly knock out the adversary who kept dodging back, looking for a moment to counterattack.

And then the cargo door opened.

The hinges on the big metal door meant for the unloading of all the plane’s cargo suddenly blasted themselves open, falling down with a loud clang and the deafening sound of the wind caused by the plane’s speed and difference of air pressures, pulling luggage out by the dozens.

Despite the force the two of them were feeling from the air, forcing them outside of the plane, Aiba kept going because he knew Gladstone wouldn’t let him get away unless he was unconscious. The problem now was that there was baggage and crates sliding in their direction while on their way out of the aircraft.

The fight kept going, Sebastian every once in a while managed to get a blow in in the midst of all the dodging and Aiba kept trying to leave the pixel spawner out of comission long enough for him to leave, but both of them now kept an eye on their sides, ducking, sidestepping and jumping every bag that came their way in a graceful display of agility from both sides until the black-hooded fighter forced Gladstone to put himself with his back towards the rest of the cargo. It wasn’t without a pretty solid kick on Aiba’s ribs in punishment, but now he was at a disadvantage.

Or was he?

The kick he gave put just enough distance between the two for the blonde clan leader to notice something: in one single movement, he could steal the parachute, pass by him and jump out of the plane.

Prepared to do just so, he waited for the white-haired assaulter’s next swing. A high one aimed at Sebastian’s temple from his left side.

With practiced ease, he continued the motion with his body and grabbed Aiba’s right wrist with his left hand while doing the same with the parachute’s strap that was on his shoulder with his right. Now in position for it, Gladstone forced his opponent to continue his spin with him until they had swapped sides, where he let go of Aiba and projected him against a crate that was sliding down; but not before taking advantage of the force he had employed to yank the military green backpack that he had been trying to get ever since he entered the cargo area.

Without even stopping, Sebastian confidently skipped back a couple of times to the end of the cargo door as he wore the parachute with a huge grin and yelled at the defeated black and white man glaring back at him before jumping off with an obscene gesture on both hands and plummeting with his back to the ground

- Have a nice flight!