[Sparks has been unusually quiet, leaned against a back wall with his arms folded. He still looks tired, though maybe not quite as exhausted, as when the murders were going on.

While he doesn't say much of anything, he is listening. After most folks get their pieces in, he finally steps forward. He slaps a hand down on a table and leans on it, leveling a look at everyone in the room.]

We're not involvin' citizens. If anyone of 'em comes forward and wants to help, if they got a combat Job and won't get themselves immediately killed, send 'em to the military headquarters and have 'em talk it over with them. Don't stop 'em. But don't encourage them either. We're here to protect 'em, not throw them in the line 'a fire. Let them have their festival. They need it.

We get as much of the military on our side at the site as possible. But some need to be left in Aqures Ixen to keep an eye on things. I'll have the force out in droves that day.

I only got six Jobs mastered. Soon 7. But that means I ain't Onion Knight material. What I do have is a Magitech robot, so you better believe I'm gonna be on the front lines for this.

[That's all he really has to say, and now he feels awkward without knowing how to end this. He looks at everyone, standing up straight, clearing his throat. After a beat, a thought strikes him.]

Should... Should I send someone out after Deadpool? I should, shouldn't I.