The grinding and turning of metal gears and cogs was a cacophony to any topsiders, but to those who made their homes in the Bleeding Heart, this was the cadence of life, the heartbeat of their society. Imperfections and all, it signified their strength and solidarity, and many turned to sit and soak in its rhythm when they were feeling lost, or in need of guidance or meditation. In spite of all their differences, the people of the Bleeding Heart were attuned to this grinding as though it were their own heartbeats. Any disruption to that heartbeat caused the people to be united, in ways they scarcely ever were, because that often gave them a common enemy.

Tonight was one such instance.

Rowan had just finished pulling a double for demolitions, and was on his way home as he hopped onto his newly acquired -- and not at all stolen -- bike. As the engine turned over, his ears perked up with... strange noise from the topside.

He looked up, slightly confused, at the towering districts above himself.

A short moment of silence, as he thought it through.

"Just my imagination," he thought to himself.

Rowan forgot about it in that moment, and then rode off into the chemfog, toward his home.

A few hours had passed, and Rowan had been at home for some time. The man sat at his table, eating what slop counted for dinner in this place, when he heard that... sound, again. His ears perked up, and he looked around, and before long, Rowan heard a banging on the front door of his home.

Brow furrowed, Rowan stood to his feet. His utensils glowed as they began to float behind him, and slowly, he headed to his door. A fingertip pulled down the blinds, that he might peak outside, and when he saw some of the local runts gathered outside, he sighed.

"What's goin' on, Gadge?" Rowan asked, as the utensils floated back to his table and he began to undo the locks on his door.

"H-h-hey, Rowe, uh... We're playin, ah, hide-n-seek, and..." Gadge started to explain, but the kid looked incredibly nervouse, and his gang of ne'er-do-wells didn't seem to be any more confident in their situation.

"C'mon, bud," Rowan said as he sat down on the steps outside his door. Even beat up and exhausted, he had a kind smile, and it was enough to get the kids to open up.

"... we messed up, Rowe," Gadge explained, looking down at the ground. "We got some, ah... stuff, from topside, but Jig --"

"Don't put it all on me!" Jig growled, the young girl balling up her hands into fists.

"Well it's your fault! You fell behind!"

"Stop," Rowan said, brow furrowed.

"You got caught. But you got away. Did they see you? Who you are?"

They stayed silent for a moment, and Rowan's shoulders sank.

"We - we gave them the slip. And all the stuff, it's--" Gadge tried to speak up, but Rowan put a hand on his shoulder.

"Just... come on."

With that, Rowan took the runts and headed off to an old site that was set to be demo'd in the coming days. It was in an area that'd normally be too dangerous to feel comfortable having children in, but knowing the guards were likely to try and come down here, this was the best place for them right now. So, Rowan had them hole up inside, heading off to a back room that locked from the inside, to keep them safe.

"Don't open this door for anyone but me. Got it?" Rowan would ask.

Gadge nodded, and the two of them exchanged their unique code whistle.

With that, the children were kept safe, while Rowan headed off to the front of the building, where the door was blown off the hingest. He stepped outside and sighed, running a dirty hand through his hair -- leaving more trails of soot through his ivory locks -- before he sat down on the steps. He looked down at his hands, filthy with grime, and fatigued from hours of difficult work... but for the first time in months, there was no shaking. His hands were still, and he wondered whether that was really a good thing or not.

Before long, a commotion could be heard in the surrounding areas. It was clear that the guard tried to advance, only to be driven off by the locals. This made Rowan breathe a sigh of relief, but he was not going to give up his watch just yet.

It took some time, but eventually, Rowan would see as a group of men -- men who dressed like they'd been in the Bleeding Heart all their lives -- approached.

"Hey, bud," one of them would say. "You seen them kids, what went topside?"

Rowan's ears perked up once again, and he slowly lifted his face to observe the men more closely. They dressed like they were from here... but they were...

... too clean.

"What kids?" Rowan would ask, as he slowly ran a hand along the steps he was on before standing to his feet. A good few dozen rocks had been charged... just in case.

"You don't know? They caused ah, a bit of a commotion. Guards are lookin' for 'em. You ain't seen a few runts run through here?

Rowan shrugged.

"Nah."

"So you won't mind if we take a look in there for 'em?"

Rowan smiled. But he did not answer. The man walked up, with several of his accomplices flanking him on either side.

"You don't lie very well, you know."

"Look. I don't know who you are, but you're not getting past me," Rowan shrugged, and several rocks floated beside him, glowing and pulsing with kinetic energy. "You'll try, but this can only end two ways."

"Enlighten me," the man spoke as he stepped forward, pulling a baton from under his coat. He pressed a button under his thumb, and a jolt of electricity shot up from the guard to the tip.

"One: You realize I'm not lying, and you turn tail before the rest of the Bleeding Heart collapses on your ass. Or two: you manage to put me down... but in the time that takes, you'll be outnumbered ten to one, and this night ends with you being tied to the bottom of the wastes."

"You're a cocky bitch, ain't you," he cackled. "Alright... get 'im, boys!"

Rowan cursed under his breath, before flinging half of the rocks forward. The first ones to charge were pelted with rocks that would normally only sting, but once there was a close group before him, Rowan would detonate each and every one in unison. A cantankerous Kaboom! went off in the middle of the demolition zone. Normally, that wouldn't cause any issues, but at this hour?

To put it simply, they'd started the clock.

Four men fell, arms struggling to up after taking the brunt of so many explosives at once. They'd crawl back, as other men charged up to clear the distance between him and them as fast as possible. Rowan sent the rest of the rocks he controlled skyward, while a guard threw a haymaker for his face. He stepped to the side, before slapping the ground and causing all of the rocks to plummet, detonating in rapid succession as they did. Popcorn explosions would follow, making short work of nearly a good dozen individuals, and Rowan remained their with a smile on his face.

"That all you got?" he asked as he stood back to his full height.

"Not even close, punk."

The man blew a whistle, and as he did, all the guards who'd been keeping watch made a mad charge for the building. Rowan's eyes widened, and he scrambled to charge more debris -- but before he could gather much, he found himself getting jabbed in the side by an electrified baton.

"GFF--" Rowan spat out on the ground as he stumbled back, clutching his side as he nearly fell through the open doorway. The man moved forward, striking at him once more. This time, Rowan caught the baton in his hand, eating the electricity while charging the baton with his energy in the same motion. As he screamed, the pain rushing through his body, the baton began to glow. When the guard finally realized what was going on, it exploded, causing him to fly backward.

Rowan remained standing in the doorway, panting, saliva running past his lips. He leaned on one forearm, staring through his hair at the assembling crew. He cursed under his breath, wondering, for a fleeting moment, if this was worth it... but as he realized what would happen if he didn't get involved, those thoughts flushed out of his mind.

"You think you're gonna get through me?!" he growled, leaning his head back. "Over my dead fuckin' body!"

Over the next fifteen minutes, the guards would continue to assail Rowan, as he served as the only line of defense between those kids and their pursuers. It was a long process of Rowan blowing up what he could get his hands on, or getting beat around, and the guards being blown back and getting back to their feet to keep at it. While Rowan was able to do damage, he was trying his best to hold back and cause any lasting injury. Meanwhile, he himself was now bloodied and bruised, and only able to stand because he held onto the door frame.

Rowan's body shivered and shook, as he struggled to remain that staunch defender. The guards, most of which remained standing as well, continued to stand before him. Still, with no other way into the building, and with time wasting away, they knew they were running out of options. Even if they took Rowan down, the commotion the demolitionist caused was going to have people here any second.

"You're tough, kid, I'll give yout hat," the captain of the guard spoke with a frown.

"If you're g-gonna run..." Rowan spit some blood from his mouth, and onto the ground.

"... it better be now."

His words were not lightly taken, as it bruised the ego of aggressive men to turn tail. Still, he spoke true, and this could not be denied. So, before long, they gathered their wounded, and took off. They'd barely left the area before a mob from the Bleeding Heart proper had arrived, and some stayed to check on Rowan while the rest ran off to chase the pretenders out of their turf.

"In the b-back," Rowan said with a cough, moving to the side to let someone in. As they tried to pass him, though, he grabbed their arm, and they looked to him with confusion.

"They're... not gonna open the d-door for ya..." he laughed, then pointed to his own chest, signaling that they were waiting for him. The individual nodded, and put his arm over their shoulder, allowing him to use them as a crutch as they brought him to the kids.

Once that whistle left his mouth to let them know they were safe, Rowan's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he saw nothing but black.