There she was, right back in Handsome Bill's den of lost boys with the most lost boy of them all in her care. TK was as silent as usual while she tended to his wounds. He was banged up, but when he stumbled into their camp initially, he was in much worse condition and even then, he remained relatively quiet, reserved and didn't let it show what kind of pain he was in.

Those were traits that were important in Branch's new world, just not the kind of traits that Jordan Branch wanted in his subjects, she supposed. His game was control and Tom had defied him at every turn, which did him no real favors considering his current predicament, although Ruth was just as unsure of where she stood currently, knowing better than to ask questions. At least she knew Stuart wouldn't let anything happen to Elsie. The boy had taken a liking to her and would care for her without having to be asked.

"Alright, fella." Bill lumbered towards them, clipboard in hand. "Yer up."

"Alright," TK replied.

"Good luck out there, yer gonna need it."

"We'll see," he said, the chain-link gate opening up while the larger gate to the arena slowly cracked open. The rumble of the crowd became louder and louder while the mighty gate swung open. TK gripping onto his bat before he looked back at Dr. Faraday and gave a slight nod. Would that be his last gesture? Was this their last moment? The anticipation was eating away at her and she wasn't sure how he was so composed, heading out to what was most likely his inevitable doom. The energy coming from the crowd was similar to his previous foray, but this time, it felt ominous and deadly. He might not survive this time, no matter how hard he tried. Tom had tried to avoid killing last time, making some sort of bold, sweeping statement, but this time he wouldn't have those luxuries, not unless Branch's sick game took another twist that she couldn't predict. Hopefully Tom was able to.

The air smelled of rotten flesh, fresh blood, and the stench of the bodies packed into the stands. Watching as Tom slowly walked through the arena felt surreal, as if he was moving in slow motion from one of his movies. There he was, the action hero, the man who was there to save the world only the world had really ended, and this wasn't a movie. A voice boomed over the loudspeakers and the crowd noises created a cacophony of madness unlike she had ever experienced, making her skin crawl. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the gates creaked open. Having just came from the cells, she knew the Crusher was out of commission, at least for now. Two men in light leather armor charged out, one with a makeshift mace, another with what looked like an old, rusted machete. Tom hunkered down into a fighting position while Dr. Faraday's heart felt like it would beat out of her chest.

By the time the two reached him, the larger one with the mace was already huffing and puffing, while the one with the machete was stumbling over himself. This was clearly the warm up. This was a test from Branch to see how Tom would react to fighting another set of unprepared bozos. He acted without hesitation this time; the mace swinging at his head, TK holding the bat out and letting the chain wrap around it, him jerking the bat backwards while he twisted his body so that his leg was planted on the ground, the buffoon tripping over his leg and the inertia doing the rest to send him crashing onto his back, the air escaping him in one violent burst.

The machete wielder planted his feet before he began swinging at TK. She gasped at the narrow miss of the rusty blade. Being afflicted with tetanus during the apocalypse wasn't something that she would be able to just patch up on him, not without the proper medicine. There was no pattern to the swings. They were wild, unpredictable. The blade kissed his right boot, brushing against the metal shin guard he wore. Just narrowly, he ducked a shot that came for his head, the sound of the blade whirring by his ear. He brought the bat up and struck the man in the chest; the blow sucking the air out of the man and sent him to the ground, grumbling and cringing in pain. The man swung from his defensive position; it catching the sleeve of TK's jacket but the leather able to prevent it from tearing into his flesh.

"C'mon you fucker," the man snarled at him. He dashed at TK, with TK just barely able to sidestep another swing with the machete. The man went for an upswing with the machete, but TK was able to bring the bat down just in time to block the shot. The bat and the machete clashing violently. Both men went to pull their weapons back, but found themselves connected. The bluntness of the machete kept it from cutting clean through the wood, but it found itself buried in the bat's bulk. There was an opening now, TK snapping off a kick with his left leg, the shin connecting with the leather armor across the man's ribs, him huddling over in pain, howling.

Something was wrong, though. Tom huddled down, tinkering with his left boot and the shin guard on there. What was he possibly doing? Vera had talked about the explosive charge she had created for Will. Was Tom expecting the same thing? "Tom! Tom get up, my god!" Dr. Faraday shouted, hoping that her voice would carry over the chaos while he fiddled with his boot. One man was up and charging at him. The mace was swinging around the makeshift handle while the bigger man was bowling right towards him. Tom rolled out of the way, then dodged another shot, still stopping to fiddle with his boot. Another shot came dangerously close to his head, Tom kicking his foot out and tripping the man before fiddling with his boot again, this time stopping and springing back up.

Like an explosion, he shot up from his feet, driving his knee into the face of the mace wielder, blood streaming down from his nose at escape velocity. He jerked the mace from the ground and swung it at Tom with a wild overhand shot Tom could counter with his right knee into the ribs of the man. He went for a violent backswing only to miss by a mile, TK bringing his left fist up to connect flush on the jaw with a big uppercut that sent him staggering back. TK dug his left heel into the ground while the man went for a giant swing with his right arm, twirling the mace above his head. In a flash, TK had snapped his left leg up towards the man, rotating on the ball of his right foot and popping his hips, his left leg unfurling at high velocity and his left shin snapping at the man's head. There was no time for him to cry out before the shin guard connected, the spikes digging into the soft folds of his flesh before a pop went off, light emitting from his boot followed by a rain of blood, his shin not being stopped by anything but instead moving with momentum towards the ground, causing him to almost stumble. She had done it; she had made him some sort of device, or he had stolen one.

"What in the fuck?" The machete man, who was charging at him, stopped cold. "How the...?"

Before he could complete his thought, TK smashed his right elbow into his temple while the body of the other man lay on the ground, headless and twitching. The crowd was once again in disbelief at the scene. They had seen Farrington with his gauntlet, but never anyone else with anything similar. The machete man tried to regain his composure, only for TK to drive his left knee into his sternum. TK swung with a head kick, the man ducking under it just in the knick of time, only for TK to catch him with a right back kick to the stomach with the momentum from the first one. This sent him down to one knee, doubled over in pain, and TK didn't hesitate while he planted his boot, measured the shot and unloaded another kick towards the man's head. He screamed, but another buzz and a splat interrupted it, his body falling over in a heap on the ground while chunks of his brain and skull rained down on top of his lifeless body.

A sense of calm washed over her, only offset by the absolute horror of the carnage that was laid out on the sand. She knew he wanted to make a statement, to not kill, but he had no choice, did he? The game was rigged and survival meant dispatching these goons and doing it in an emphatic manner that drove the crowd crazy enough for Branch to know better than to kill him in front of them. It was either him or them, as simple as that. Of course, it didn't need to be that way. That was just how Branch wanted things to unfold. TK craned his neck towards Branch's private box, seeing him stewing up there with Farrington by his side, his arm in a sling. Branch's two guards were by his side, Stuart trying to restrain him, but Branch charged up to his podium.

"Quite a show, Mr. Gabriel," he boomed. "We're all very entertained, aren't we? Looks like a certain prisoner helped you out after all with that contraption of yours, huh? Just full of surprises, aren't we?"

The crowd was unsure how to react. Branch was unraveling before all of them, but trying to project the image of being in control. They didn't know that TK Gabriel was a prisoner; they didn't know that Vera was the woman who had helped to build Farrington into the legend that he was, or how she had been helping him and was now locked up in a cell watching Demoreo decay further and further into being the Crusher. This wouldn't be an execution for TK tonight. Instead, it would be the night that Branch lost control, she thought. He was up there raving like an absolute madman. There was no way that these people could see that, could see how insane that man was, and still want to be a part of his world. My god, he was doing it.

"Well, you aren't the only one that is full of surprises tonight," Branch cried. "Oh no, you see, I'm in control here. I always will be, and it's about time that you understand how things work around here. Bring her out!"

The "her" caught Dr. Faraday by surprise. There was no way that they'd make Vera fight, right? She wasn't there to fight, she didn't deserve to die. The great gates slowly parted ways, and Dr. Faraday's heart pounded an offbeat rhythm inside of her chest. He was a monster, but not that much of a monster, was he? Farrington already had to be upset at Vera's imprisonment, if Branch had her killed he'd lose completely control over him, maybe even over Stuart. Stuart was a soft-hearted boy. He had talked about Vera, about what she had done for Will. There was no way he'd sit back and let that happen. The gate paused, and a lone figure appeared in the shadows, slowly walking out towards the arena.

The figure kept approaching, moving from the shadows into the lights of the arena to reveal that yes, it was definitely a woman, but walking with a noticeable limp. What had they done to Vera? Why even get her involved? She never wanted to be involved with any of this. That was when the setting sun caught her face, showing decay and rot. That wasn't Vera. She limped closer and closer yet, but Dr. Faraday couldn't make out who it was. Tom stood there, unmoving, until the figure drew closer and closer yet, only for the bat to fall from his hands into the dirt, him dropping to his knees.

"Jess?" He cried out, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. "Jess, no."