Vision was a blur, reality apparently distorted and wavy. A crimson haze tinted the surreal image as it faded in and out of focus. An assassin, another near-death experience, and... loneliness? No, that can't be right. Someone was supposed to be there with him. Right?

Murmurs floated into audibility and were gone just like a whisper. Was he awake? His eyes lulled, spinning and twisting the already deformed reality around him. He droned off, feeling a loss of balance as he slipped into vertigo. Piercing screeches rang through his ears again, from another location. Where? Nowhere. He felt a pressure released from his right leg for a fleeting moment before it was applied again, yet softer and gentler than before.

He closed his eyes for the second time.

Quinn got up, a searing pain in her back greeting her as she awoke. She winced, stumbling and almost falling back to the ground before catching her fall with her arm. Valor squawked and darted to her as he noticed her wake up. Gathering herself again, she slowly raised herself up from the ground without moving her back.

The sunlight had already filled the room completely. If she remembered correctly, it would have been at least three hours she had been laying there since she was knocked out almost the right moment they got here. She remembered who was travelling along with her and Valor, and turned around to see the swordsman curled up on the floor, clothes torn and soaked in blood. What had actually happened? She got up and observed the setting.

Three feet from her laid a blood-soaked dagger, which she presumed was what inflicted the wound in her back. If he wasn't the one who threw the dagger, Yasuo must have patched up the wound for her, since she wasn't lying in a puddle of blood, which was a good sign. It didn't seem to be him, as outside the door lie a set of footsteps and a trail of blood following them. She looked back at Yasuo, observing the tourniquet on his right leg, and compared it to the retreating trail with blood marking a trail on the left. So there was another one here who seemed to get away.

She got up and looked at the surroundings of the room, bookshelves and tables knocked over and broken, while scattered papers and blood stained the floor. Thankfully Yasuo managed to fend off whoever attacked them during that skirmish, else they'd both be another statistic for the assassin. She looked down and noticed a cloth bandage wrapped around her to cover the wound on her back, which seemed to come from Yasuo's garb.

Quinn looked back at him, and noticed that the knot on the makeshift tourniquet on his leg fashioned out of his belt wasn't tight enough due to its thickness, and had started to seep out blood. She looked around the room for something she could use, as Valor landed on one of the tables on the upper floor with dining cloths on it. He clawed it and swooped down, dropping the cloth to Quinn. It never ceased to amaze her how observant and reliable he was.

"Thanks, Val," she praised as he landed on her shoulder, Quinn stroking his side. She kneeled down, gently untying the thick blood-stained rope, and lying it aside as blood trickled down the cut. She quickly wrapped the white cloth around his leg, firmly but gently tying a knot opposite the wound. The cloth was immediately soaked a deep red.

Quinn got up and sat down at the table with the assassin's documents in them, her turn to wait for the swordsman to wake up. She looked again at the papers that were still on the table, portraits of important-looking targets with black X's sprawled over their faces. As she did with every assassin she encountered, she gave a quick scan for signs of her brother's face.

Of course, nothing.

That moment, he stirred, eyes in a daze as he brought his hand to his head in aching, electrifying pain. "Where the hell..." he murmured in apparent confusion as he tried to take in his surroundings. He got up on his non-injured knee, panting with his head averted down, eyes closed as he recovered from his delirium. After a few deep breaths, he finally exhaled and slowly opened his eyes to find Quinn zoned out, somberly staring at scattered paper on the table with blank eyes, colder than his own.

She broke her daze and finally noticed Yasuo awake, and looked at him curiously. "So, mind telling me what happened?"

He ran his hand up through his long hair and gathered his thoughts. "All I remember is another person trying to kill me. Nothing significant enough for me to remember specifics, sorry."

"An Ionian?"

"Didn't look like one," he recalled, remembering the night purple bladed cloak the man was wearing. Quinn pulled out a drawer at the desk she was sitting at, eyebrows raising as she noticed something of interest. She reached in, revealing a map of the immediate area around them along with what looked like scrabbled military stratagem marking the paper. She picked up the map and got up to leave the house, nudging Yasuo.

"You good to go?" Quinn asked, observing the visibly injured swordsman. "Time doesn't wait for anyone," she added. Yasuo simply nodded, slowly getting up from the chair and walking out the door with a painful hobble. Quinn followed closely behind him.

She rounded the corner, looking for the smallest wall she could scale. While not the shortest, a wall presented itself with a windowsill she could use for a hold. She handed the map to Valor who swiftly perched upon the roof. "Mind giving me a hand?" she asked, gesturing for Yasuo to boost her up. He rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed, and gave her a foothold to jump off of. He had saved her life already, how many more favors could she want? Maybe it was time to part ways, he'd been doing fine by himself and he'll be fine by himself once more. He walked back and sat down, leaning against the wall, letting out a long yawn.

Concrete and crumbled brick trickled down on Yasuo like a light drizzle as she clawed her way to the roof of the house. She unscrolled the map, surveying the location around her to try to determine exactly where they were. If she read correctly, they were ten miles west of the outskirts of the main Noxus city-state where her target was, a member of Noxus' infamous Crimson Elite. Not too far now. She scrawled a few notes on the map and leaped back down to the ground, startling Yasuo.

"Crimson Elite. Heard of them?" she asked Yasuo in hopes of getting some information she didn't have. His heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened. He's definitely heard of them.

"Yeah. What do you know about them?"

"Not much, except the fact that my target is a part of it. Or so I was told. I was hoping you'd know more about them than me."

"Nope, all I know is there's someone associated with them who I think may be at the root of my problems," he mused, remembering reading about a member who had used wind techniques to cut down wave after wave of Demacians and Ionians alike.

"Hunting him down?"

"I'm pretty sure it's a 'her', but yes. And I wouldn't say hunting, everyone's been doing more than enough for me. I'd call it shedding blood to make sure the blood already shed isn't wasted." Quinn smiled, remembering his monologue.

"So what are we waiting for?"