He was here. The news tore through the ranks -- faster than wild fire. She hadn't glimpsed him yet. Hadn't seen a single inch of the enemy she'd grown incrementally fixated upon since she'd sawed his wings off on a hot August day. Years ago, now.

She wanted to find the General, but first she had to find someone else. Jack Sparrow. So the Slayer abandoned her post and the fight, slicing raggedly through one last Cultist before ducking down one of the moon city's streets. Her too-tight-for-comfort suit was already well spattered with blood. Some of it hers; most of it not.

Her one hope was in the possibility that the pirate hadn't yet heard of the new player in the game. Perhaps, she wouldn't have to hunt. Perhaps, she thought with a sick twist in her gut, he'd be happy to see her.