They lay in wait in the cold womb of a forgotten glacier hidden away on the outskirts of Montreal.

Muffled steps could be heard from above and crystal-like snow floated gently upon their backs with mesmerizing grace.

The scout had returned safely.

They started to shimmy forwards with different, yet stylish movements.

Those layered with multiple tall tees acted as damage-soaking shields at the back of the surprisingly uniform group.

How close were they to actually finishing their quest?

It had been a long and grueling four years.

From the mountain tops, they marched forth.

Day after day, week after week their army grew in numbers.

Vancouver was the first to perish in dust.

Even London was no more.

The stories told of Judges, once seemed unbeatable, defeated one by one.

The spoony bard McMurray often told embellished stories of the heroes feats in war.

The generals were no mere mortals.

They had truly ascended to the level of demigods.

Master, what should we do if we run into any members of the AFP Committee?

LJ scoffed: Spence is a lost cause.

He was once one of the two Rookies of Poor Boyz, but the Flame has ensnared him completely.

He wont be of any trouble to us.

He fondly remembered the times when Spence could kick it with the rest of them.

Enough, Casabon declared.

We will change up our runs so as to cover our tracks and to battle against repetition.

We will possibly even run into Head Judges, although their whereabouts and health are unknown.

The generals looked worried.

This is where it all ends.

Henrik… might still be alive.

I can feel a faint presence of thugs and the silent echoes of a Meth and Red mixtape.

It might be a trap, but Im willing to take that chance.

Click in, and prepare to meet a new dawn.

A dawn for the end of this oppression, and the rise of our call.

Our call to honor the Oath!

The gypsies attacked with all their might, but their edges were far too dull.

The tall tee shields amassed upon the abomination as it hissed and snarled from underneath its ringed cloak.

The creature sliced through their bodies like butter.

Yet he missed and was cut in half from the waist down.

It just wasnt stylish enough to defeat the evil being.

Casabon stood his ground, taunting the beast with his French.

It stood as tall as Downey, yet seemingly more agile for its size.

B-Dog closed his eyes.

The mass lunged towards with amazing speed setting up a razorblade of rotations up to 1440 degrees.

Only inches away from the Leader, it stopped dead in its tracks.

The blood started gushing from its beak and it screamed in bellowing agony.

It didnt see it coming.

The skiers still alive huddled around their Leader, waiting for his commands.

Tomorrow… Freedom will flow once again!

The crowd cheered and pulled their lines back into formation.

Soon, it would all be over.