Generator Knight / Obligations, Obligations (1/2)

Summary: Rex wants to be normal, Holiday's still searching for a cure, Six wants a promotion, and Knight is shaped dubiously like a friend. Promises, Promises, if their roles were swapped.
Ships:
None
Verse: Generator Knight (AU stemming from roleswap Rex to Knight, Six to Holiday)
Characters: Rex, Noah, Holiday, Six, Knight
Warnings: None? PM me if you need something on here, though


Sneaking out of headquarters was easy.

Strangely easy. It was as if all the agents were looking away, or blocking Holiday's or Six's view to him. It wasn't as if he stuck out like a sore thumb, white colour palette and all, but a glorified spacesuit was at least noticeable. The boots clunked on the tiles, the joints sometimes rustled, and sometimes Rex let out a panic yelp if he accidentally bumped into someone.

So when he stood in a forest next to a skatepark and a basketball court, miles away from Providence, he was expecting someone to jump out and send him straight back to HQ.

Nothing.

Rex grinned. Finally.

There were some people (just kids, like he should be, not agents or scientists or EVOs) around the vending machines near a building and he could feel excitement bubbling up inside him. Normally nobody was at the skatepark, and this was usually as far as he ran before he's caught.

"Hey!" he waved, and all of them turned with varying expressions of astonishment on their faces, "Let me try something…"

He strolled up to the vending machine, tapped some buttons on his gauntlet, and raised it right above the display.

Cans rolled out of the opening.

"That's pretty cool, man," one of the skaters, with an orange vest and a green t-shirt, said, "Pretty cool for a robot freak."

The four skaters waltzed off, cans in tow.

Well.

For the first new interaction I've had in months, that could have gone better.

"Don't listen to those guys, they're jerks," another kid around his age comes up to him, hand outstretched, "I'm Noah."

"Rex," he pays special attention to not immediately crush Noah's hand in his grip when he meets it.

"So. Since soda's a bust," Noah tapped the vending machine, eliciting empty rattles, "Wanna play basketball?"


"You're holding it like a dodgeball."

"It's basketball! I've seen the ani - real life games, it can't be that difficult."

The ball's whipped towards the basketball net at a frightening speed, spinning and cutting through the air like butter, until it hits.

The hoop bends, buckles, and snaps off completely.

"That's," Noah's at a loss for words, and he points numbly towards the now net-less basketball net, "That's new."

"Oh. Uh. Providence probably has that covered?" Rex's smile is anxious; this wasn't exactly the best first impression, "We can play with the other net on the other side of the court!"

The rest of the net flops over.

"Let's not chance that."


"I just want to be normal. Like you!" Rex motions towards Noah's body, and he catches a glimmer of doubt before Noah's smiling and listening intently again, "You're the epitome of a normal guy."

"And you're not because….?"

Rex gives him an exasperated look, and pats his exosuit. "I've got to keep this on because I'm absolutely 100% nanite-free. Two years ago, they ran some tests on possible ways of curing things, and bleaching was one of the proposed methods."

"And let me guess," Noah tilts his head, unperturbed by the strangeness of his explanation, "You were the volunteer, and that's why you're pasty white."

"Yup, they needed a human to test on after animals and plants made it relatively okay, and there I was — eleven years old, eager to help. Now I run," he put little air-quotes around run to emphasize his point, "Providence."

"As in, world EVO defence organization Providence? Huge recruitment billboard right outside my school Providence?"

"One and only. Sorry about the billboard thing, I can't control that," he sighed, "I don't really control anything. I'm just a figurehead."

"So you're a pawn. A," a corner of Noah's mouth quirks upwards while his eyes dart up and down Rex's exosuit, "White Pawn?"

"I can't believe you made me listen to that with my own two ears," even though Noah's voice is muffled through the suit, even though he can't feel the concrete under his skin or the warmth of the sun, he feels like a normal kid.

"Rex, what are you doing? Who is that?"

Until reality hits him like a subway train.

Noah almost slips down the halfpipe as he whips his head around, but Rex just huffs and rolls his eyes. He could recognize that perfect blend of worried, pissed, and exasperated from anywhere.

He could've sworn he removed all the tracking devices from the suit.

"Just hanging out with Noah," Rex shrugs, "New friend? Doesn't appreciate interruptions?"

The click of combat boots against concrete.

"You know her? She's got a great Darth Vader impression, um," even though the visor is foggy and the viewport tinted blue, Rex can see the faint sheen of sweat building on Noah. He forgot how intimidating Agent Holiday could be, "She's pointing her taser thing at me, Rex —"

"That's just Holiday. She's like," Rex trailed off as he attempted to find the proper words. Ninja Nanny? Holiday could sneak up on people, but anime usually had katana or kunai wielding ninjas, not taser ninjas, "my Chernobyl Caretaker."

"A gas mask isn't going to protect me from gamma ray radiation — what has Six been teaching you?!"

"Stealth, subterfuge, the usual. Relax, I've got science covered," he turned around to instill some assurance into his caretaker. That, or to lighten the mood so his new friend didn't die of a stress-induced heart attack, "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. Everything I needed to know."

Holiday's eyes narrowed, and Rex guessed that her mouth pursed — it was difficult to tell with a gas mask blocking the way, but he could recognize the way her cheeks would puff out just so when news of Rex breaking out reached her. It was usually followed by a stern, yet motherly speech about making commitments for Providence.

Rex could tune her out. Noah probably couldn't. He didn't want his budding friendship to be ruined on the first day again.

Holiday stopped tapping her foot. The sounds of her breathing overrode the rustle of leaves, the drone of traffic in the distant city, even the mechanical whirring of his own exosuit.

Here we go.

"Captain Calan's holding up Providence's resources to assemble a search team. Again. Six isn't appreciating that," Holiday's expression turned amused, "You should have seen the look on Six's face when Calan said he couldn't deliver the EVO carcass. And the look on Calan's face when one of Six's scalpels sped past his face and embedded itself into the monitor right behind him."

"And you're here to pick me up, again. I'm fine! I've been fine for the past, what, twenty times?" he could remember his 'training' clearly. Be unemotional. Be a figurehead. Do what the people really running Providence want you to do, it's your obligation to help the war against EVOs, "And I'd rather go outside and have fun than watch Calan get another scar."

He was a teen — alright, pre-teen — and being the Providence Pawn didn't magically change that. He wanted a life outside of the war. He needed a life outside of the war.

The experience of failing a test for the first time. Staying up all night to finish three projects at once. Cramming to frantically pass a test. Joking around with a study group while they definitely didn't study.

It was all replaced with a synthetic teacher and the expectation that he didn't want to switch jobs. Thirteen and already the leader of a world-spanning organization? What luck!

Holiday gave her best 'I understand, but I'm your mother figure and I know what's best for you' look. With the head tilt and all.

"Some of us have to make sacrifices, Rex."

"Some more than others, apparently."

The sun had almost slipped down the horizon, turning the vivid oranges lining the sky into blues and purples. It was odd seeing the infrequent flashes of airplane lights instead of the blanket of stars that were visible back at headquarters; the sky was muted, the sounds were muted, and he could feel his own anger slowly dying out.

Reinfection was always an option, but where would he go after that? His new home and family was Providence. Rafael, Violeta, Caesar, he could only remember them through the vague, spotty memories of his childhood and newspaper clippings. Brief glimmers of running down a hallway, of someone shouting his name beneath the sounds of machines, of people he should be mourning but couldn't.

Waking up and stumbling across a ruined landscape with a blood-red sky over him. Everything was wrong — last week that clothes store was still standing, yesterday he and his dad went to eat at that restaurant (or was it that pile of stone? The sign was split between them), and the previous month the kind old owner of the toy shop gave him something that wasn't splintered wood. Now there was rubble, plant life, and monsters.

So many monsters.

Green isn't the first colour that comes to mind when he thinks of an angel, but there one is. Fighting a nightmare with a katana. He thinks back to the anime he's watched while waiting for his family to finish their project, and wonders wildly if any of the DVDs made it. Acid almost hits him, almost hits both of them, but he can feel an arm looping around his waist and they were running.

Noah's the first to break the silence. "I should probably go now, shouldn't I," he states it like an obvious fact, something that he should have done much earlier. Rex would've liked it if Noah didn't see the extra baggage that came along with being his friend, but it wasn't as if he could turn back time.

He just hoped his one shot at feeling normal didn't slip away.

"You don't have to, it's fine, everything's —" from the corner of his eye, Rex can see Holiday giving him the nastiest glare he's ever witnessed, real or fictional, "Yeah, you should."


"You know, I made a new friend today," simple, succinct, under ten words. That meant there was an okay chance Six would reply.

And yet, nothing.

Six presses a button and stands back, and Rex is lowered into the large scanner. There's a small window installed in case something went horribly wrong inside or outside but Rex doesn't want to look up; not at Six's stoic face, not at the other scientists staring at him and talking about him.

"His name's Noah. He's around my age, and likes basketball," Rex continues, even though he knows Six isn't listening to all of it; it feels good to vent, and somehow it feels even better when he's venting at a person and not an electronic journal, "I tried playing basketball and I ended up breaking the hoop."

"Turn down the strength setting next time. We're the ones paying for it."

"It was my first time playing!" Rex wants to throw his hands up in the air, but the scanner's too confined and he has to stay still, anyways, "I needed all the help I could get."

"Crush the ball next time and tell me how many points that nets you."

"Is that a pun?" Rex narrows his eyes and finally tilts his head up, and unless the stress finally got to him, he could see a hint of amusement on Six.

The scan line passed over his eyes and he blinked, and afterwards Six was back to his usual self. No answer.

A few taps on the screen later, and Six gives a thumbs-up. Or what Rex assumed was suppose to be a thumbs up — Six lifted his arm up halfway, hesitated, flashed a thumb, and put his hand back down.

"You're still nanite-free," Six's sunglasses are pointed downwards at the screen, but Rex is pretty sure Six saw him roll his eyes, "Close your eyes or tint the visor."

"Dude, I know the procedure," Rex prefers closing his eyes; there's nothing new to see after the first time and tinting the visor is an extra step.

"Can't be too careful."

The buzz was unbearable the first time around, and uncomfortable the next few times — Rex has lost count how many times the exosuit needed to be cleaned of residual nanites. It's a normal part of his routine now, no more odd than random mutations in nanite-infected DNA or disliking milk.

Though his eyelids are closed, he can tell the lights are getting brighter and brighter. There's a tugging sensation across his entire body, but he tenses his muscles and wills the exosuit up.

The first few seconds are always the hardest.

It's been two years since the incident, and one year since he started regularly sneaking out, but he still expects the shouting and the chaos and the burn across his being and the knowledge that he's being ripped apart

The pulling lessens as fewer nanites remain on him.

The lights die down, and Rex opens his eyes as instructed. The door behind him automatically opens up, 'welcoming' him into a stark white room — maybe he could smuggle in furniture next time. Bright orange, he thinks, and smiles at the thought of hiding bits of a table inside the food container and the look on Holiday's face when she'll notice there was inexplicably something new in his room, Or bright blue. Maybe both.

"They're planning to repurpose the bleaching procedure soon."

"Um, alright," Rex didn't even take one step into his room before Six — Six, of all people — started up a conversation. Six pushes his glasses upwards in a gesture Rex inwardly describes as 'totally anime'.

"Instead of irreparably damaging the DNA, it's going to be removed along with the nanites."

It takes a moment for Rex to parse what he said, and a moment more for Rex to get over his shock. "What, like," he struggles to find a word and his mouth quirks up in a nervous, please-tell-me-you're-joking smile, "To vaporise EVOs?"

"We can't cure them. We can't contain a lot of them," his sunglasses blocked the way, but Rex felt like Six couldn't meet his disbelieving gaze, "We may as well kill. That's what the board said."

"What? But —" they weren't just nightmare horrors beamed from beyond the abyss, they were parents, siblings, children, humans that wouldn't get to live the rest of their lives. Like him, "There are people in there! Human beings!"

"Are we going to cage the whole world?"

Six's posture is stiff, and if his mouth wasn't moving to talk Rex could've sworn he was talking to a still image. Standing up, hands in pockets, completely neutral expression — classic Six.

He didn't look the slightest bit disturbed.

"I can't believe you guys," anger's laced in every word, and his hands are balled up in fists — if he was out of the exosuit, his nails would've dug deep grooves into his skin.

"It's been three years, Rex. If they — we don't find a breakthrough soon, the governments of the world are going to pull funding. They won't waste any more money on empty promises."

"Providence was founded to clean up this mess and we're just going to shove it all under the metaphorical bed. How long until I'm the last person on Earth and every else has been zapped?"

"While the efforts of Rhodes, Volkov, and Bouvier are admirable, it isn't enough to push back against the growing EVO threat," from the small window, Rex can see that the three scientists aren't present — probably working on their program up in the space station again.

He looks to the scientist in front of him.

"And you've been such a great help."

"I'm in charge of the Petting Zoo. Nanites should be left to the people suited for the job," another question, another blunt answer.

Maybe that's what Six does in his room all day — argue against various versions of me.

"If by 'in charge of the Petting Zoo' you mean 'best EVO wrestler in Providence' then yeah. Hit the nail right on the head."

Six's brows tilted downwards and his lips thinned. For once, Rex was glad Six wore the sunglasses all the time — he had a sneaking suspicion that Six's uncovered glare could literally kill. As in, actual knives would shoot out and strike him down.

He won't back down, though. "What? They aren't even betting on whether you'll win or lose, they're betting on how long the EVO'll last — Bobo's made a fortune."

"That robot's a bad influence," each word was forced out as Six focused on smoothing himself out to the detached air he had before. It was subtle, but Rex had enough boredom and time to look for tics — it was something to do in that room other than watch the news.

There was nothing but bleakness on TV, anyways. Diane Farrah, reporting that this city and that city has been lost despite Providence's best effortsDiane Farrah, here on site of the latest giant EVO attackthere's a record number of Class 1 EVOs appearing this weekSentient EVO hate groups are growing in numbers, especially in Hong KongShips are disappearing in the Pacific, rumoured to be sea monster EVOs.

"He's the only influence I have, Six," other than various anime characters, but Rex had a sneaking suspicion they didn't count.

"You also don't contact anyone on comms. Make this easier on all of us and stop sneaking out, alright?"

"Pssh. Alright."


"I can't believe you sneaked out! Again! Especially after," Noah cupped his mouth with his hand and breathed loudly, "That."

"Holiday? I'm use to it. It's Six you have to look out for," Rex grins as Noah leans forward, eager to learn about the other's life, "Did you know he keeps a knife in his jacket pocket at all time?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I was watching the surveillance cams and he just," he made the motion of grabbing something near his waist and pulling a sheathe off, "Took out this dagger, from the inside of his jacket. Then he stared at it for a few minutes when nobody was looking."

"I don't know what's creepier," Noah said, a devious smile making its way onto his face, "The knife, or the fact that you were watching the surveillance feed."

"Well, I've gotta do something to keep myself entertained."

"Gross."

"Not like that!"

Rex lightly punches him on the shoulder — strength turned way down. He's learned his lesson from the first time he tried to do that. With Calan. Hutton had to fill in after Calan was put into the hospital ward and Rex had to get another lesson on suit safety.

They sit in silence, enjoying the peaceful scene. There wasn't anyone else in the skatepark that they could see or hear — just the ambient noises of nature and the city blended together.

Noah took another sip from his soda, and Rex stuck another open soda can into what was lovingly referred to as the 'food compartment' near his chest to get the nanites removed. The feeding tube was slightly awkward, but Noah hadn't said anything yet, so he supposed it was okay.

"We just have juice, milk, and water in Providence," Rex says between sips. Some of the citrus soda spilled over his chin and he resisted the urge to bring up his arm to wipe it — what good would that do? He had nanites and a faceplate in between his hand and his face. Noah nods and motions for him to continue, "Going outside, experiencing unhealthy drinks, what a miracle."

"An act of divine providence, even?"

"Noah!"

Both of them laugh, and continue enjoying the tranquil moment. Despite the clutter, the graffiti, the horns blaring in the distant, this was somehow more homely than the organized rooms of Providence headquarters.

"Milk doesn't sound half bad," Noah speaks up, seemingly after intense thought.

"Okay. Juice, I can get. Water, I can respect," Rex copies Holiday's concerned, motherly expression, "But milk? Out of all of them, milk?"

"What? It tastes good!"

"Unbelievable. It wasn't even originally on the menu! Six was the one petitioning to add milk, and he's lactose intolerant!"

That wasn't an exaggeration — the one health risk in Six's sparse file (it didn't even have his birthday on it, how else was Rex going to birthday prank him?) was that he was lactose intolerant. That was it. Complete confusion on Rex, and now complete confusion on Noah — they didn't serve lactose intolerant milk at the cafeteria yet.

"What if you mixed the milk and juice together? Like, with orange juice? Or lemonade? Would that make it taste better?"

"Oh my god."

"I think yes."

"Remind me to take you to Providence so I can prove you wrong."

He can feel his worries, his stress, melt away as they're cracking up. They're on top of the world (or at least the skatepark) and it feels as though nothing's wrong — the clouds are distant, the sun's shining, and someone's fixed the basketball hoop already.

Noah tips the last of his soda into his mouth, and wipes it with his sleeve.

"I'll go do the government fund thing to the vending machine, I got this," Rex hauls himself up, cutting off the flow of soda into the tube, and stretches a bit before heading off.

"Sure," a buzz comes from Noah's pocket, and his gaze flits downwards as he checks the notification. There's rapid movement in Rex's peripheral vision, and Noah's hand slapped onto his shoulderpad, "Wait! I wouldn't want to, uh, take money away from the war on EVOs, right? Besides, I have to leave now. I got a message from my mom, really strict about curfew."

"It's like, 6 o'clock."

"You don't know the shady Bellwood types!"

He's nervous, fidgeting with his fingers, can't meet Rex's gaze, sweating much more than a small six feet sprint would suggest, Why's he nervous?

C'mon Rex, he's your new friend! You can't go around demanding that people tell every aspect of their lives.

"Alright? I'll just," Rex attempts to hide his suspicion, so he awkwardly smiles and walks back to his previous location, "Sit back down, then, and wait for a jet to pick me up."

Rex boosts up the volume receptors in his helmet (he couldn't resist, it was morally questionable but he had to know), wincing at the onslaught of sound. Maybe the car horns honking weren't as quiet as he thought.

Steps. Paper shuffling. Someone who definitely wasn't Noah, but somewhat familiar, mumbling. Too low for Holiday. Too gruff for Six. Not western enough for Calan. Faster footsteps moving away.

Slower, heavier footsteps moving towards him.

"So. You're the hotshot who's nanite-free, huh?"

Rex whirled around; the blond man in front of him looked innocent enough, other than the fact he looked like he came straight out of a gym instruction video — muscular, tall, a white tank top with cargo shorts.

His expression would have fit well with Six's expression — indifferent, but somehow slightly angry at the same time.

"Yeah," Rex nods, and looks around for Noah; he's out of his sight, and Rex hopes he wasn't tied up in the back of a van somewhere, "That's me."

"I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm sure you have. Providence is a pretty big organization, after all. We're looking to expand to the moon later on, gotta keep an eye on those aliens," if he kept joking, he wouldn't remember the fear — there was something about the man in front of him that screamed danger, just like Six when fighting.

Less than a minute into meeting someone and they're already threatening you?

Rex stood his ground, turning up the strength to his suit; a mixture of his own pride, the knowledge of his exosuit's capability, and the halfpipe beginning right behind him keeping him there. He could probably make a run for it if he broke the other's arm in a surprise attack.

"And if you know me, you know my status as the leader of Providence! I've got a lot of people watching my back, like, my," Rex's eyes light up and he snaps his fingers, "Assassin Au Pair! That's the phrase I'm looking for!"

There a small, confused pause before he reverts back to his irritated air. "Noted."

"Alright! I'm Rex Salazar! Head of Providence, no nanites, but you already know that," Rex shrugs and plans his trajectory — he'll stand out in the forest, but in Bellwood someone's bound to notice a scuffle, "What's your name?"

"Knight."

"No first name? Or last name, if that's your nickname?"

"Only one I remember. It's mine," the m — Knight says, with the strong sense of control only seen in people defending their only possession. A hazy look of uncertainty passes his face —

Rex runs.

His boots are boosting every step, sending him sprinting in speeds even unknown by him —

And now he's tripping at speeds now known by him —

I couldn't have tripped, I'm still on concrete, I'm not that bad, he thinks as scratches appear on his faceplate as he slides forwards; no cracks yet, thankfully, but enough for warning signs to appear. There's a pull on his legs and he finds he can't open them, like they're bound together. He's sliding backwards now, strangely.

He looks to his feet.

Oh.

There's grey rope tied around it, with a huge mechanical claw on one end. It's taut, and despite Rex kicking, they don't budge.

Where'd he hide that?

And on the other end of the rope was a boxy mechanical fist that melded with Knight's skin. There was an opening on the top of one with electricity crackling around it.

"Thrill me."

His expression was sadistic, mouth twisted into a wide, smug grin and eyes watching Rex as if he was a predator watching his prey. Scratch that, not just watching, but playing with their prey before their teeth would snap down and swallow the prey whole.

"Out of all the one-liners, 'thrill me'?! I could probably come up with something better in way less time. At least open up with 'thrill me'!"

The content look never slipped off his face and he started whistling while reeling Rex in. Glass against concrete, metal against metal, screeching noises filled the air but he wouldn't. Stop. Whistling.

One of the boxy mechanical fists — smack hands? Better than calling them 'boxy mechanical fists' all day — shot out a projectile with a cable fastened, lodged itself onto Rex's exosuit. The projectile didn't pierce it, but the blunt force would probably leave a bruise that he would have to take care of himself in his room, and his confusion and shock slowly morphed into rage as he realized —

Paperwork! Six and Holiday nagging! More suit safety training! Nobody's going to let me out of headquarters for months!

He flips himself over and aims his gauntlet towards Knight, laser charging up —

Electricity courses through his suit and Rex screams.

His suit's power is falling, he can hear the whistling stop, only to be replaced by jovial laughter, there's screaming and he recognizes one voice as his own but someone else, faint, calling his name —

"I'm going to enjoy smashing your faceplate in."


A/N: Knight's builds look like his mechsuit that appeared in Plague, I hope that was clear. also Calan got his scar early because why not.

thanks for reading, and I hope this all makes sense!

(the rest of the snippets from expiration date are probably going to make it on here)