So many questions and yet, the unexpected revelations at the hands of the fairweather traitor, 'General Riberia,' had enlightened the former warden of the bay. Liafadors, Cardinals, and a plot involving the False Bay had all been revealed, had all been brought to light before the disgraced General had fled leaving behind his extravagantly tailored battle suit.
Every compulsory impulsive screamed at the fallen warden, 'home!' 'go home!' But the hero in him would not allow such an act of selfishness to govern his motivations. After all, years earlier; alongside his father, the dynamic duo had led a mass exodus out of Venezula and into the Kwazula Alcazar. Rescuing hundreds of displaced refugees. As overnight, humans were hunted down and executed to make way for the then, new mutant kingdom of Venz. It was an act of noble sacrifice that had earned him the moniker of the Prince of Orphans. And should he succeed in freeing the mentally manipulated children, caught up in the indomitable dogma of Cardinal influence, the Prince would become a King. The King of Orphans.
His feet galloped atop the auburn dirt covered road with graceful strides and gait, keeping his senses sharp, though dissociated from the chaotic conflict brewing between the more well known super-powers. Even if he had wished to test his metal against those directly responsible he somberly understood that it would accomplish nothing. A fight of that magnitude would take too long, expend too much energy, the risk vs reward wouldn't justify the forfeiture of so many resources when the true objective was the freedom of the children.
Sticking to the edges of the encampment, Ali began to slowly incapacitate the weakest and smallest of the child soldiers. A nerve strike here, a rear-naked choke there, he pressed each position with surgical stealth and a whisper's whistle. Then, he saw it, saw her, as a small armed contingent drug her towards the center of the camp. "What are you doing heah" he thought. Recognizing the archer instantly from his own sorta dealings, their past a complicated one. Seemed fate had deemed that they cross yet again.
With a deep breath his emerged from the brush and underbelly of the lockout tower. "Sir! We caught this one just outside the perimeter." Ali remained silent but kept moving forward. "Sir?" without hesitation the Vibranium Maharajah reached out and grabbed the unsuspecting solider by the barrel of his machingun. Quickly jerking him forward into a throat crushing close-line while simultaneously dropping the General's military belt and somersaulting forward. "GRENADE!" someone roared, scattering the unit in all directions and leaving Abigail unattended. The false alarm would hopefully open a window for the disoriented archer to reclaim her freedom. Everything else, would have to wait.