"Thanks for coming, Cyclone," Quake whispered, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

Cyclone smiled softly. "Anytime, Quake. He is my friend as well."

The two of them turned their heads onto the burial ceremony, as the coffin was slowly lowered under the ground.

"He is a great friend indeed," Quake whispered as he knelt beside the newly-formed grave. Cyclone knelt beside him and gathered him in his arms as the younger elemental sobbed onto his shoulder. He brought his own handkerchief to his face and began crying as well.

"Requiescet in pace, Thunderstorm. You will sorely be missed," he whispered hoarsely.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cyclone held the stumbling elemental in his arms as he helped him sit down. They were currently in a bar at Quake's existence, and Cyclone wasn't about to deny him. But after a few shots, it was obvious to the wind elemental that Quake was an inexperienced drinker as he sagged against the table, completely drunk.

"Come on, Quake, let's get you home," Cyclone whispered to his ear as he tried to convince him.

Quake just looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes, his face incredibly pale. "Just one more shot please," he begged.

"One last shot," Cyclone said softly. "Then we go home."

He held the shot glass out for Quake to drink. The earth elemental drank all of it in one gulp and stood up, stumbling.

"Easy, Quake. You're quite drunk," Cyclone said gently as he supported his friend.

"I don't feel so good," Quake groaned as he collapsed and vomited on the floor.

"Quake," Cyclone called but Quake was completely passed out. "Quake!"

But the earth elemental did not even twitch even as his calls became more frantic. By then, they had garnered the attention of the public as they crowded around the two of them. He held his hand near his mouth and sobbed into his handkerchief as he tried in vain to rouse his friend from unconsciousness.

He felt someone drag him away from Quake and he struggled, his body weak from consuming alcohol. His friend was checked by medics (who had just arrived) and became the receiver of bad news.

His friend was dead. From alcohol poisoning.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cyclone arrived home, stumbling into the couch. He held his aching head as he thought about what had happened earlier.

Thunderstorm and Quake were dead.

Slowly, a smile got its way into his face as he sipped the coffee that his maid gave him. It was incredibly easy to pretend. The tears, the sympathy, the sadness.

When his headache subsided a bit, he went into the basement and faced the roulette that he had personally made. Two of the six pictures in the roulette had daggers embedded on their faces.

"Two down, four more to go," Cyclone chuckled sadistically as he spun the roulette once more. A dagger made its way to his hand and he threw it at full force on the direction of the roulette, embedding a third face. When the roulette had stopped spinning, the picture became clear to show someone who was wearing a black and green turtleneck vest and his cap angled in the back.

"Aww... too bad. I wanted to make him last. But I guess I have no choice, do I?" Cyclone chuckled to himself.

"It's your turn now, Thorn."