He wore an enchanted item on his waist-- so good it was probably a legendary item. While his knees were on the ground or he was lying on his back, his reflexes were like a tiger's and his slipperiness was like a snake's! 

Also, while he wore it, he didn't have a gag reflex. He tried not to think about that. 

Lone tumbled over his head, curling his body in... and rolling towards the armed guard, he shot both feet up like a bolt from a crossbow. 

POP! He landed a perfect shot against the man's chin and he crumpled to the ground like a stack of swords.

"Flamescarred shite..." Edge let out a long whistle. "Nice work, Lord Ranger."

He offered his hand to Lone, helping him up.

Lone grimaced at his partner, then at the unfortunate guard. 

Yes, he had knocked a man unconscious with a single strike. Yes, it was a very skillful display that made him look very cool. BUT it was like he'd leapt out of a fiery-hot pan into the fiery-er depths of the seven hells. 

He'd just assaulted a member of the Church... in a Church temple... in THE Church-liest temple of all the Church-ly temples! 

Lone was an accomplice... and there was no taking that back. 

"Edge..." He looked over at the Rogue, holding in his tears... "Now, will you finally tell me what's going on?" 

"R-right..." Edge picked up the guard's fallen sword, "But before that, should I...?"

"Let's not," Lone shook his head. "No killing."

They were in enough shite as it was. 

"...Yeah," Edge nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. "Too risky."

Edge dropped the sword, took a bundle of rope off his pack, and tossed it to Lone. Then he took out some cloth, getting to work, gagging the guard. 

"It was supposed to be a quick in and out," He grimaced, "--but it looks like I'm not good enough to do this solo."

"And we're too far in to bail," Lone exhaled through his nostrils as he tightly bound the guard's wrists and arms. 

Edge turned to him, his eyes unusually serious, "Will you help me, Lone? Just like you saved me below Turrim Orientem against the Cataclysmic Rat-Beast?"

Lone shuddered involuntarily, "Yeah, I'll help you, man... I still can't believe that thing was a Circle Mage..."

Edge grinned, nodding, "Hopefully, I won't let you down, this time."

"Hah. You've never let me down."

Edge had always had low self-esteem issues. Thankfully, Lone never had that. Ever. 

Still, to try and cheer his friend up, he decided to change the subject, "So... what's my cut?"

The Rogue laughed, smiling and averting his gaze... "50-50, but after the profits, yeah? --I gotta pay off a few other parties involved..."

The thought of it ominously reminded him of one of Boss Tycon's sayings. 

In their profession... good people are always the first to die. 

...

The two dashed down the hallway, then hid to avoid the eyes of two wandering Church Acolytes. The wing of the Basilica they were in was packed full of doors. It made Lone feel uneasy. 

From the look of the people they saw, behind those doors would be... living quarters. 

Lone steadied his breathing, his back to the cold stone wall, "What are we looking for?"

"Set of items. The owner won't miss 'em..." Edge whispered. "Only problem's that working in the Basilica has a ten thousand percent increased chance of crucifixion."

"What kind of items?" Lone frowned, "Drugs?" Magic?"

"Neither. We're looking for exotics," The Rogue shrugged. 

"Seven hells, Edge... what kind of person are you working for?" 

"Not something I wanted to ask... Even considering the risks, the coin's too good to pass up."

Lone grimaced, "That's pretty suspicious..."

"I'm tired of hurting people, Lone," Edge let out a defeated sigh. "Thankfully, borrowing things is just as lucrative."

"That's called *stealing,* Edge." 

Edge chuckled quietly to himself, "Things go missing all the time... It'd be a waste if no one made a profit off it."

Lone peeked down the hallway... and seeing that it was clear, he waved his partner-in-crime forward. Sprinting past dozens of nearly identical-looking doors, Edge slowed his pace near one it looked like he picked at random. 

"This is the one," He pointed. 

Lone was lost inside of buildings-- not like in the wilds. He figured it was probably a downside of being a Ranger. 

Still, he had a trick or two-- one of them, he'd learned only recently. 

"Let me give it a try," Lone smirked. 

"Really?" Edge glanced nervously down either side of the hall, "You pick up some Rogue skills, Lone? If your class has been Hero, all this time, I'm gonna kick your arse, y'know."

"You wouldn't be the first to try, nor the last to fail," Lone stepped past his friend and gently pressed his hand against the wood... "Open the door, little one..."

He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, and opened up his senses to the world of mana. There, he searched for 'life'... hoping to find the presence of the Door Spirit. 

He couldn't find anything, though. Unlike in the forests, everything around was just dull stone. 

Wherever the Door Spirit was, he wasn't skilled enough to find it. Or maybe... there wasn't one? 

...Tycon made the whole process of Door-Whispering look easier than it actually was. 

"Uh..." Edge prodded him, "Is it working?"

Lone retracted his hand, placing it on the back of his head, "N-nah. Go ahead."

"Um... alright. Watch me while I take care of this." 

Taking Lone's place, Edge took his glove off his left hand, and held it over the door's locking mechanism. His eyes glowed with mana as he channeled his skill, "⌈Unseal.⌋"

Lone carefully watched their surroundings... but twice as carefully, he watched his partner. 

There was a reason Edge kept his left hand gloved. He held a forbidden curse inside of his body. He'd only seen glimpses of it... but what little he'd seen made him glad that he wore a set of enchanted Never-Soil Trousers. 

It was also why most people were smart enough to avoid working with him. Lone was different, though. He was immortal. 

That uneasiness didn't leave him, though-- and he watched beads of sweat form and drip down the blonde Rogue's face... 

"Can you handle it?" He asked. 

"I'm stronger than you remember," Edge growled. 

He sounded more confident than he looked. Lone watched him for several more moments... his entire hand turned pale... and then his entire body began to tremble. 

"Don't push yourself too hard," He whispered. 

"I can control the-- ARGHHH!!" Suddenly Edge's eyes turned ink black. A thick liquid of the same color streamed out of his mouth as if he'd bit his tongue. 

Lone narrowed his eyes, slowly and calmly drawing his sword... "If you lose control for even a second... I've got to put you down."

"Wouldn't... ergh... have it... any other way... GrrrraARRgH!!" Edge's hand glowed bright with mana... and finally, the door gave way, pushing wide open. 

Grabbing Edge underneath his arms, Lone dragged the man into the room. After he closed the door behind them, the Rogue dropped to his hands and knees, desperately gasping for breath. 

Lone took a quick look at his friend. His eyes had returned to normal and he'd wiped off the bile on chin with his sleeve. It looked like whatever was sealed inside of him hadn't won... not yet. 

"Looks like you figured it out?" 

"Y... yeah," Edge nodded. 

He reluctantly swallowed whatever was in his mouth before shaking his head and getting back to his feet, "I only dare to use all my power, with you keeping me in check. Not many people can defeat me, you know."

"We got wrecked in the Martial Tournament," Lone reminded him. 

"I'm not gonna use my full power in a coliseum full of a hundred thousand people," Edge shrugged. "I've at least that much sense."

Lone laughed... then paused to examine their surroundings... "Uh... Edge?"

"Yeap?"

Large wardrobe dresser. Expensive mirror. Small pots of hair products. Makeup trays. Colored sheets and luxurious pillows. And most damning of all, the room smelled... nice. 

Lone gulped... "Why... are we in... a woman's room?"

The blonde Rogue had his back turned and was rifling through what appeared to be... a hamper for dirty clothes, "Aha... not what I expected."

Turning dramatically, he revealed his prize stretched between his two hands, "We're lookin' for these."

Lone's eyes widened, as he stared in disbelief at a triangle of black lace... "Please... please don't tell me that's what we're looking for."

"Behold," Edge smirked. "These are the used undergarments of Archbishop Natalya Crucis."