Disclaimer - I do not own any characters within this story, nor do I own Wicked.

"Go!" The people screeched, yelling and screaming their support. "Find her! Hunt her down!"

The streets were overflowing as they were filled with crowds, all of their fists raised up in the air as they cheered on the group of Ozians who had congregated right outside of the Wizard's door, waiting for their march to begin. Their cheeks were flushed red, and bloodthirsty smiles were plastered across their faces as they raised their weapons of choice- from pitchforks to muskets- into the air. Glikkun, Gillikinese, Munchkinlander, it did not matter. Man or woman, it made no difference; all of their previous differences- race, culture, gender- had been put aside for now. No more bickering was to be done amongst them, for now, they all had one thing in common:

One goal that they would all stop at nothing to achieve.

"Kill the witch!"

There, overlooking the self proclaimed 'Witch Hunters' was a member of the core four challenged to kill the Witch, the Tin Man himself. His metal fingers clenched onto the railing of the balcony he stood on, and his jaw hinges squeaked as he gritted and meshed his iron teeth together.

"And this is more than just a service to the Wizard!" He snarled to them all.

"I have a personal score to settle with Elph-"

The Tin Man stopped, mid-sentence, as his mind struck him with one thought that had enough force behind it to make him freeze.

Once he said this... there was no going back. He would forever be an enemy, and no longer would he be the same person that Elphaba knew.

'Can you do this?' The last human shred, the last part of his old self asked him. 'Can you really give up all these years of friendship and finally seal your own fate?'

Pressing a hand to his chest (a move that he often did in times of self-conflict) he heard an empty 'thunk' echoing in his ears. Even though he was used to it, he was still surprised to realize that it was coming from himself.

With the feeling of sick shock that had never really left him since he had been turned into the Tin Man, he remembered that there was no heartbeat now to calm him down. There was no steady pulse to assure him that no matter what, he would get through these troubled times.

Within that second, with that simple action, his resolve was made hard as steel.

Although he was heartless, although he could not truly feel anything anymore, the Tin Man's eyes burned with pure, cold anger.

And it was Boq, not the Tin Man, who roared,