How had he ended up here again? Oh yeah, he had been trying to find someone. A rare animal trader somewhere in town. He was going to try to persuade him to see if he could spare a gland or two from one of his Amazon Lily snakes. He had read in some dusty old tome that there had been some ancient witch doctor practice of mixing venom into specific herbs to bring about a cure for what had been described as ‘madness’. This could refer to some sort of mental illness or anything, really. It was hard to say with such imprecise recordings but he had come to realise that there was value in the past. He would have to do his own experiments, of course.

Gilbard had walked into a tavern in order to meet up with this individual, His cloak hood pulled over his head to hide his species. But he didn’t get too far. Upon entering the place, he found it strangely empty. However the place was dressed up in a rather peculiar garb. Tinsel lined the windows, stockings were hung up on the bar. There was a massive tree covered in baubles and decorations. However most suspiciously, there was a lone present wrapped and placed on the table dead centre of the room. Gil felt like it was probably in his best interest to turn around and walk out of the building. Looking through the windows outside, he could see Alabastians going about their day as usual. But there was something within him, it was like a gravity that brought him closer and closer to the present. He had been a good boy right? Why wouldn’t there be a present for him? Wait- what was he thinking? He had too much sense to believe in some children’s story. There had to be some reason… Like it being a Christmas miracle! Gill would pick up the present. It had little octopi on the wrapping paper, and they all wore little red santa hats. On the tag it read: ‘To: My Scaly Friend, From: Papa Claus <3’. Oookay, nothing suspect here. But despite the fishman’s reservations, something compelled him to keep going. He tore off the paper and opened the little box. There he would find a tone dial painted red and green. Pressing the centre of the shell shaped contraption, it would start to play a tune.

Spoiler:

A sense of weariness and comfort began to creep on the fishman. What a lovely little tune. Maybe I will just sit down and close my eyes for a little bit. Gil sat down at the table and rested his heavy head on his forearms and drifted off into a deep slumber…

-----

When he awoke, he first realised that he was in a small area with a lot of people. It was a shock to come to his senses. Whatever spell he had been under had been lifted and he was now in full control of himself. Be that as it may, he was completely bewildered with what was going on and his lack of information. From the lying position, he flicked himself up onto his feet in one movement. He wasn’t the tallest guy and so he had to push his way to the front of the cell to see what was going on.

“Excuse me sir, could you please tell me what is going on?” He addressed a strange hairy creature he found at the front of the room.

equipment: spear pistol

Well, it seemed like he had found himself in a truly despicable situation. Of all the unsightly environments he could choose to be in, this may just be at the bottom of his list. Apparently, this was some form of battle royale that has forced random people to fight each other to the death. “This is surely an affront to natural order.” Gil croaked in response to the mink sharing the information with him. This sentence was ironic coming from him, as his very profession involved interfering with the natural course of death. But the culture of the Kappa Conclave was still deeply rooted in his way of thinking, and some of the language and actions he had picked up there during his stay had become a part of him, even if he didn’t believe so deeply in the philosophies anymore.

Things just got worse when many weapons were introduced to the room. Gil could see that these were mere civilians in this room for the most part. The way they were reacting to the situation was that of shock and horror. Some were in terrible states, others were coping a little better by trying to decide how they would try to get out. Gilbard gritted his teeth as some young hothead clamoured for an axe, picking it up and proceeding to swing it around before being told off by the mink. It was brought up that the mink was actually a pirate - and one that seemed to be reasonably well renown. A rallying call went around to turn against the pirate. This was going to quickly turn into a mob mentality base aggression. Their base instinct was to use their social tools to put themselves in the majority, securing their survival but isolating the outsider which represented danger. Things would turn nasty quickly in this environment. They may be normal people, but these were abnormal circumstances. Even the average human was capable of unimaginable atrocities if they could justify it with their own survival.

“...If you come over here, I'll murder the lot of you.”

Well that wasn’t going to help much at all. Gil wasn’t sure exactly what he wished to accomplish with this response, but the mink wasn’t in exactly the best position to make threats. Looking at the chained body, he could notice similar body language to that found in a cornered rat - it was a look of ‘I have nowhere to run, so I must fight’. Maybe this is where those insightful words hand come from. He could probably get the mink out of there but he thought it would be best to attempt to quell the crowd first. Helping the target would only serve to paint a target on his own back. He turned to the crowd, a couple of men had begun to inch forward, brandishing a collection of weapons. He could just let the crowd turn on the mink and kill him. Who knew, maybe they would stop there. But Gil was a little wiser than that. He realised that once the first life had justifiably been taken, the next step closer to a blood bath would be easier to swallow. Due to his heritage, he would probably be next on the chopping block. No, it would be better for all of their sakes if he could stop any conflict. But then again, whoever was organising this cruelty would probably not like his meddling.

“We all want to get out of here. We all want to live to see tomorrow. Don’t you want to go back home and see your loved one’s faces again? Our best chance is to cooperate. Much like fish are safer as a part of the school.”

His hood rode over his face, still deciding to hide his fishman features for as long as possible. He tried to interject as much soothing softness into his gravelly rasp of a voice. He wasn’t much of a linguist, but he hoped the words were enough to at least slow down the encroaching massacre.

“As long as we have harmony, we will get out of here.” Turning his head halfway back to the mink’s direction, he lowered his voice. “All of us”.

He was hoping the fuzzy being would cooperate for now. As for the humans, the young upstart with the axe decided he had had enough of talking and decided to go for Gil. “You’re on his side!” He went for an overhead cleave. Not many people would notice the subtle movements in Gilbard’s shifting stance, but maybe the mink would. Gil’s right foot shifted forward as he pivoted slightly, stretching out his hand toward the swinging axe. The axe would curve down it’s trajectory while the back of the fishman’s left hand guided the axe away from his person, not resisting the force head on but guiding it away from causing harm, much like diverting a channel of water. The man’s forward momentum would carry him closer yet even though his attack had failed. Bending his forward knee, Gil would deliver a precise upward palm strike to the man’s nose, breaking and flattening it. The fishman would stand there with the now incapacitated young hothead at his feet. Maybe he had overdone it, but he thought it would send a clear message. However, the right hand he had used to fight was now displayed, in all it’s webby green glory. Full black eyes returned the crowd’s gaze from beneath the hood.

“Don’t be mistaken, this harmony isn’t optional. But it would be easier with your cooperation.”

Taking advantage of the brief amount of time before the humans made up their mind, Gilbard Noam would turn back to the mink.

“You would be able to get out with a temporarily induced shoulder dislocation. It will hurt and there will be a bit of tendon strain. A recovery time of about three days. Will you accept my help?”

He didn't mind if the mink would take him up on his offer or not. If he did agree, Gil would walk over and quickly pop his shoulder out, hoist him out of his chains and pop the joint back into place.

“It looks like they weren’t kidding when they said you were dangerous.”

Gil would state in response to seeing the mink’s explosive ability. There was a decent amount of power coming from the creature. It seemed as though he was bite as well as bark. That being said, he would step away from the mink rather than let him touch him. Though he bore no ill will, he was still to suspicious to trust someone that was capable of blowing him up by touching him. He would attempt to keep control of the situation as much as possible, even if that meant only being able to control himself. “No offense friend.” He would say.

“Do you see that? He’s a fishman.”

He heard whispered at the back of the room. Luckily he wouldn’t have to see what would come to pass should they have stayed in the prison as the mink brought down the door with a burst of electro. Upon seeing that there was a way out, the people would surge forward in a stampede like air escaping from a depressurised ship coating. Gil would step aside and let them leave, following them out of the prison afterward. An alert would sound, adding urgent need for agency to the situation. Fake humanoid constructs rose to their feet and began slowly waddling toward the group of prisoners like marionettes while someone pulled their strings. It was like something of a nightmare. He heard some of the prisoners shriek and exclaim in response.

“Pick up your weapons. Now is the time for that harmony, let us fight together!”

The men and women were slow to act, but sure enough they would arm themselves against the encroaching threat. These things didn’t look all too strong, what with their slow movements and lack of muscle, but who knew what they were actually capable given the weirdness of the situation. He couldn’t exactly apply normal logic to this scenario. Gill would walk up and stand next to the mink while he faced the mannequins. He was strangely calm in this situation. Maybe it was because he didn’t really know what to feel in such a strange place, or maybe it was that he was so used to the wacky places that contrasted with temple life that he had grown numb to being surprised. He pulled down his hood and addressed him in a low croak.

“‘Jackal’, was it? We could sure use your help getting out of here.”

The mighty pirate burglar that would murder us all, aye?

Gil couldn't help but wonder where this new person had come from. It seemed as though the cries of the young human spawn had brought out something rather warm and fuzzy in the mink, despite his self proclaimed bad dog image. It was rather sweet, and he did appreciate the effort that Jackal was making to get along with the mob. He could see that the display was having an effect on the humans, with a few of them dropping their intimidating guard against Jackal. It was one of those strange social phenomena at work again. Everybody had their preset profiling when they met someone knew to some degree. This sometimes brought out racism in ignorant individuals. But as these people got to know someone, the easier it was for them to relate to them as a person and disassociate them with the negative characteristics they attributed to that person's group. Meaning, individuals that they had had the chance to get to know would see a waning in the discrimination towards themselves, even if those deeply held racist convictions didn't budge. Jackal may become an 'exception' to the rule in this regard, what with the act of kindness he was displaying. Gil had asked for harmony, and that is what it looked like he was getting.

"What, you didn't get me one?"

He spoke to the mink when he returned to him, referring to the santa hat he was now sporting. Gil's lips turned out in a little pout, the winge didn't match the gravelly voice. Turning his attention back to the threat at hand, he could hear that the mannequins were just about ready to let loose on the crowd. It looked like they would not be getting away today without shedding a little blood. And who knows how much farther they would have to go to escape this nightmare either. This santa was a real bad, bad santa, that was for sure - he would definitely be making Gil's naughtly list. He would have to remember to deliver the coal in person.

"You can call me Kappa if you like. I don't see much other option than to break through the the line. Sooner rather than later." He would step forward, raising his voice just before charging in. "We have no other option than to fight. Cover each other and keep pushing forward!"

Gil would draw his spear pistol from the inside of his jacket and pop a bullet into the knees of two that were facing him. The idea was to knock them off balance as he doubted that the bullets would be able to injure them like they would a person of flesh. He would then dart forward, grabbing one and pulling it toward him and covering himself, using it as a makeshift shield. It was a reckless play for sure, and one that would result in him being shot several times. However he had drawn a lot of attention and began breaking the line. He had a good feeling about his back up, and he decided to put his faith in his fellow beings. At first, a few of the more bold prisoners would join him, charging in to his aid. The weapons that had been given to them so that they may kill each other were now being used to protect and fight for each other as a group.

Several sharpened candy canes smacked into Gil’s body. They dug into his muscle but luckily didn’t go too deep. It looked like the firing mechanism was something mechanical, maybe spring loaded. This combined with the weak structure of the sugar made the puppets less effective than your average firing squad. It still hurt like a bitch though, similar to stamping on a nail. So there he was, charging head on at these lifeless fake bodies, using one as a shield while smashing each he came into contact with using his free hand. He went for the joints, delivering powerful yet precise blows to the joints, disconnecting them. After smacking one’s head clean off, he wasn’t too surprised to see it keep moving. These things were possessed by some sort of malevolent christmas spirit. Still, he managed to get the job done upon separating their arms with their body. He was very glad to see Jackal had come to back him up, flying in with an impressively devastating electro attack. He was too caught up in his own skirmish to see, but he did witness one of the heads of the mannequins explode. After Gil dropped the last lifeless puppet to the ground, he would look up at the mink, panting.

“Looks like you’re the real deal, Mr Pirate” He would then begin to pull out the candy canes one by one and tossing them aside before continuing on. “I feel a sugar rush coming on. Hope I don’t get diabeetus.” Looking up at the way forward, the large letters ‘A-2’ loomed in front of them. “Area two, maybe? Doesn’t give much hope.” He muttered to himself more than anyone else. He would follow behind Jackal into the next room. He would squint his eyes, the pure whiteness of the next room was dazzling.

"Kappa... It looks like our escape is far from now."

He would have to agree with his furry acquaintance on their ill fortuned fate. It was hard to see due to a flurry of snow circling the massive room. Gil would take tentative steps inside the room, his body quickly adjusting to the chilly temperatures, as they were similar to those found in the deep. He and Jackal would be alright for now in this cold but the humans wouldn’t be. They would have to find a way out soon. The strange thing was that this was a summer island with a desert climate. It should be extremely hot out here, why then was such cold place here? It seemed entirely unnatural. After getting about twenty metres inside, the snow flurry would calm and the expanse of the room would be revealed.


A cathedral made of nothing but pure ice. From fluffy whiteness to long panes of deep blue, in which Gil could see his reflection. The grandeur of the place left him in awe. It was hard to imagine. A whimper could be heard from behind. The prisoners had followed him into the cold, but it was beginning to cause discomfort. They weren’t dressed for the occasion at all. The only notable objects in the space were these life sized snow angels, all in various poses as if they were normal people who had just been frozen during their average day.


One was sitting on an ice bench reading a snow book, one was admiring a framed painting carved into the side of the wall. One had a carrot for a nose, another had stones for eyes, another had a scarf wrapped around its neck. These things were creepy in their lack of movement. And the humans didn’t react well to them either. Regardless, the only way was forward. He would continue on until he reached a round room with a grand dining table laden with food, cutlery and decorations, the whole setup being solid ice. More snow angels were sitting at the table motionless,  There was a staircase that spiraled around the outside, all the way up to the top of the roof. There were doorways all along the staircase, one of which about five metres up from the floor, opened. An actual angel entered the room.


Well, that is what she looked like at least. Flowing white gown, white hair and white wings. Soft caramel skin. The light filtering down from above played on the glass like ice around her, creating a bouquet of colour.

“Oh goodness deary me, you’re all here already!” The angel exclaimed while pressing a hand to her chest. “I wasn’t expecting this many guests. This early too! Have you finished all of your business already?” She exuded pleasantness while talking about the prison they had just escaped. She turned back to the open door and called. “Jack dearest, company has arrived. Come and make yourself seen. Don’t be rude!” She punctuated each of her sentences with feminine fluttering gestures.

“Excuse me miss, but I am afraid we are going to have to decline. These people here-” He pointed to the shaking humans, “-are going to catch pneumonia or worse after long. If you would please show us the way out-”

“Oh you wouldn’t be so rude to decline this invitation, now would you? But we would be so disappointed, we’ve been looking forward to this for so very long.” Just as Gil’s attention was taken by the angel in the room, a shriek from behind him made him twist around abruptly. It was one of the females, and she was now pointing at the snow angels. They were standing there now, still motionless. They would be positioned between the party and the the way they had come. Things were just getting weirder and weirder.

“Hey Jackal. Any chance you can make me some water from this ice?” Gil would ask in a low croak.

"Everyone! Listen to me carefully!"

Gil's heartbeat seemed to slow as he realised what sort of nightmare he had been caught up in. He listened to Jackal explained what he had discovered about the trap they had just fallen into. The snow men shaped into angels were at their front and back. Their innocent and graceful expressions seemed a lot more daunting now that they had shown to be a threat. He could feel the horror in the air, exuded by the humans. As his attention was brought up to the ceiling, he noticed the frozen cocoons. His first thought was of attempting to rescue and treat the victims of the unholy creatures. But he soon realised that they were in no situation where they could choose what to do. He had to worry about his own survival and the rest of the remaining pack before he could give thought to those already taken. It was not as though Gil had much particular care for the humans, other than the fact that he considered them patients that needed his help. The thought also struck him that if it had not been for those at the back, he may have very well fallen victim to the angel's silent ambush. Thanks to the fact that they had made it out of the previous area without most of their numbers, he had lived to see the next moment.

A small patter of snow would then hit him on the cranium, awaking him from his thoughts. Looking up at its origin, his heart leapt out of his chest. One of the snow angels was falling down, directly above him. It wasn't moving its body at all, but its arms were outstretched like ot was throttling the air. Unfortunately this realisation only happened when it was half way down already. Jumping to the side, the snow angel would barely miss him. Instead of crumbling into a heap like he would have expected a snow construct to do, it would crash through the floor, like a solid, heavy statue. It would create a hole and reveal that below the blue pane of ice was in fact water. The angel would plunge into the water, spraying it up into the room. Cracks would form around the hole, but the whole event would be slow enough so that anyone close to Gil would have enough time to get out of the way. Gil attempted to evade by scrambling up from his lying position, but as he pushed up from his back foot, the foot fell through the ice. Just as it did, he felt a cold hand enclose around his ankle. It was colder than any deep water trench. With one wrench from the hand, his lower half would disappear into the water. Holding on with his forearms, he would take one last wide eyed look at Jackal and the others.

"Fly, you fools!"

Spoiler:

Before being pulled down into the depths. What would be left was a hole in the ice about a metre in radius toward the middle of the room. The body of water was big. So big that he couldn't see the bottom, or the sides. It was cold too. Very cold. The wounds he procured from the candy canes began leaking warm blood into the subterranean lake. Luckily he was a fishman and he could breathe and move underwater unhindered. He wouldn't get the chance to before the hand around his ankle would be replaced by sharp teeth biting down on his foot. The pain was immense. Looking down, he could see the snow angel. However, its serene face had been replaced with a frenzied expression, its small mouth contorted to bare monstrously oversized fangs. This thing could only be some sort of snow man demon, with the carrot was still implanted in the middle of its face. The bite hurt, but what was more worrying was the creeping feeling of coldness. It wasn't a natural feeling like you would expect from the water, this was something else all together. At first he struggled, attempting to wrench himself free of the bite, even if it meant losing his foot. He would kick and kick at the unmoving snowman as they drifted further down into the depths. But he would start to slow. The pain coming from the bite would begin to numb. The coldness began to spread up his leg. And with it, came a sense of relaxation, like a depressant had entered his system. It was some sort of paralysis that dulled his will to survive. The blood in his veins began to slow and coagulate, his leg turning a darker shade of purple. His head tilted up, looking back at the light shining down from the surface. All thoughts of escape ebbed, and to replace them, came the flow of another.

Maybe I should just let it all go.

...
.....

Ebb and flow, ebb and flow.

It was a whisper from far away. It wasn't a voice that spoke those words, but rather the crashing waves on the distant shore. The swish of the tide through the reefs. The roar of the sea kings in the deep.

It was a sound he had not heard for years, ever since he had left the conclave. And in that moment, regret flooded his body. Kappa's head tilted down and his eyes closed. His hands came together and clasped.

For my loss of faith, for my lack of conscience, and for my waned connection,
"I must repent."


A fire was lit inside him, and a surge of pure will flushed the cold out of his system in a moment. And then he began his worship. His core and shoulders twisted, and his arm thrusted forward. A column of condensed water smashed into the ice angel, smashing her into chunks with the pure brute force of his kata. With a fluid motion he moved onto the next, powerfully pressing down on condensed water with his feet and then releasing it, using kata #7. He instantly accelerated upward like a torpedo, keeping the condensed shape of Kata #3 against his body. He breached the surface, coming back through the hole in the ice and shooting into the air. Taking the element of surprise for himself, he would strike out at the 'real' angel while midair, the massive column of water twisting like a snake, came crashing down on her like a falling tree. Swamped by the sudden appearance of the massive body of water in the room, the angel would fall from her elevated position on the staircase, onto the sculpted ice dining table. There he would rest for a moment while continuing his kata. His left fingers stretched out into a pinching shape, and his right hand sculled behind his back. The column of water would come to rest standing upright, with Kappa submerged in the middle of it.

"Could I ask you to watch my back for me Jackal?"

Kappa would take ragged breaths. The group would be able to see that the fishman's ankle had been ripped up, and the whole leg up to the thigh would be in the early stages of frostbite, and the wounds around his foot being completely black. Despite his condition, he was now focused, his strength of will holding him in the moment. Full dark eyes watched the downed angel get up, and reach for her sword. However, her appearance had become much more unsettling. The colour of her skin and features was running. Like it had been painted on, the angel's caramel skin was melting away with the water. Even the metallic tint of her sword would run, revealing it to be a large shard of pure ice. She would smile sweetly, as started looking a lot more like the other snow angels. However, she did not seem to be bound by the same movement restrictions as the others.


"Alright alright, I'm here honey." A male voice would call through the doorway up on the stairs. A pale human-ish type presenting himself in a dapper suit. His hair was long, blue and spiky, and hand strange features, even for a human. "Are our guests not behaving themselves, dear?" He would smile down at the group of prisoners before raising his hands to reveal a chisel and a hammer. "I've made this 'winter wonderland' with my own two hands, and with a little help from my sculpt-sculpt fruit." He would smile with rosey dimples. "My name is Mr Frost, but you can call me Jack. Please enjoy your stay." With that said, he would raise the chisel up to the wall of the room around him and tap it with his hammer. A large crack would run along the wall and toward the group of humans. When the crack reached the ground beneath them, metre tall sharp conical spikes would erupt from the ground beneath them.

The situation just kept getting worse. They were facing a bunch of demonic snowmen and a devil fruit user in his own domain. Kappa's attention went back and forth between Mr Frost and his wife. How could they get out of here?

His body didn't want to move. He was at that level of trauma where your body actively resists efforts to use the injured parts. So instead he watched. As Jack launched his ice spike attack and as Jackal rescued one of the humans from the angels. All he did was keep cycling through his kata motions in some sort of distant trance. They were in a dire situation where he could probably help, but he didn't want to do anything. Like a dog that had become too old to keep up with the pack, a gnawing seed at the back of his mind asked him if he would rather just curl up and die. His eyes hazed over, Jack's words no longer stringing together meaningful sentences and instead washing off him.

Maybe it was this weakness that the wife angel sensed. She lunged up at Kappa, gliding upward with an unnatural diagonal flight. Her mouth parted to display a row of gleaming blue fangs. The ice shard sword stretched out in front of her, she meant to impale him. Kappa reacted with much less of a calm and focused approach, and much more of an instinctual fight or flight response. Adrenaline pumped him full of clarity and he managed to react enough to satiate his body's scream for survival. He twisted sideways, gripping the water in a clawed left and and twisting it, making the column of water rear up and smash into the angel like a battering ram. The weight of the condensed water would drive her back to the ground, but not before she managed to grab the middle of her sword and throw it like a spear. Reacting on instinct, he had forgotten to take account for his leg injury, and had used it during the move. Everything went white as he was blinded with pain. The angel would hit the ice dining table and be crushed under the force of the kata, being blown to pieces along with the grand table.

However, the sword met its target, albeit barely. The blade pierced the side of his right pectorial, reaching an inch past his rib cage. The unanticipated blow made him flinch and lose the focus he required for his kata. The water fell, and Kappa went with it. He splashed back into the hole he had first entered the lake in. He wrenched out the ice shard sword and let it go. He shivered with cold and shook with shock. The cold, creeping death had spread a little around the wound, but luckily enough he had been able to free the blade to stop it from going any further. Had the sword been a little to the left, his lung would have been punctured. He could feel the frostbite almost reaching his lung, and now he could only take shallow, pained breaths. Kappa would lay there face up on the surface of the water. Rasping gasps, his black eyes wide and the rest of his body motionless.

...
.....

He could hear dim screams of terror around him. The sound of the horror that the rest of the group was experiencing came through his ears muffled due to his pain induced delerium. If he closed his eyes and pretended that this wasn't happening, he could almost hear the wash of the waves on the beach. That was the easy option, wasn't it? To just pretend it wasn't happening and let the nightmare consume him. He would die quickly, much quicker than if he resisted. Resistance would only serve to prolong his suffering. The idea of giving up was oddly satisfying. He could almost feel the soothing apathy begin to numb his pain.

How dare you give up on your bretheren! He could hear a familiar voice in his mind.
What is it? Go away, leave me alone...
Look at what they have done to your brothers and sisters! Why do you even consider acting against the conclave. Have you no respect? Have you no shame? Oh, it is a memory. It was a memory of the last conversation he had had with his best friend. The conclave had been his one true home, his everything. What could have possessed him to give it all up so readily. The man lying there in the lake of icy water could not understand what could have motivated him to leave such a sanctuary. Whatever it was, it had to be something important.
Sinner! Oh yeah. That was what it was. An act of compassion had driven him to give up everything for the sake of another. Did he really do that? It seemed so far from the apathetic creature who he exuded now.

Another scream came from one of the humans several metres away. But this time, it wasn't muffled, but loud and piercing, echoing inside his head. It broke his mood and brought him to the present. So he acted. Not because he was necessarily 'good', but rather because he was a doctor, and he wouldn't turn away a patient in need.

Gilbard acted on pure force of will once more, pushing his body to the extreme. He would grab the water and twist it around him, rising upward into a half sphere of 10m radius. He would swim inside the water dome toward Jack Frost so that he would be in his way if he wanted to attack the rest of the group. Stomping his right foot and thrusting his left palm forward, he started a kata. The water towards the side of the dining room wall would condense and shape into a stairway. Jack had diverted his own staircase away from the door on the higher level, but Gil was making another so that the group may reach the door a couple of stories up that read 'A-3'.

Should Jackal and the others decide to make use of this stairway, he would expand the water around their feet when they stepped onto the staircase, shooting them upward with a speed similar to soru. He would do this continually until all of the group had reached the doorway. At least, that was his aim. "I'll hold them off here and catch up afterward." His eyes firmly planted on Jack who would chuckle with amusement. "Oh aren't our guests just the most interesting dear?" He would speak before bending down and tapping his chisel on the ice staircase once more. Another angel, identical to his previous 'wife' would rise out of the ice. "I couldn't agree more" She would smile in response, showing her fangs.