Disclaimer: I don't own Xenosaga, Virgil, Febronia, the cast, etc, etc…But I DO own Curtis and Derek. For one chapter. XD

A/N: I'm surprised that I haven't seen more on Virgil and Febronia, but maybe that's just me. They're two of my favorite characters in Xenosaga (even better as a couple), and Xenosaga III made their little scenes together such a tear-jerker. Anywho, I thought I'd try my hand at retelling their story using the script and then adding in some of my own bits and pieces. Oh, and, by the way, it can get pretty violent in this story, but if you've played Xenosaga, I'm sure that that's nothing new. Still, if it bothers you, turn back now.

Starts from right before Shion and her groupies meet up with Virgil. Xenosaga has so much information, it's hard to make correlations. So if anything seems out of place with Virgil, his knowledge, lack of knowledge, etc…let me know. :-D

Let me know what you think!

Nothing Like Romeo and Juliet

Chapter One

He was nervous, just like he assumed that the rest of his comrades who were already in the city were. His anxiety wasn't the result of knowing that their low profiled vehicle was inevitably going to stop soon, or the thought of having to engage in battle against the dogs of U-TIC. He found that he couldn't even ride in his seat properly; his bottom edged up against the lining of the chair where the two seams met and folded over one another. He was peering over the seat in front of him, staring as two of his comrades passed a cigarette back and forth to each other.

He drummed his fingers against the leather of the seat he was looking over. Against his ears he could hear the almost silent hum of the motor and feel the rigid bumps beneath the tires, and his body gently bounced up and down against the turbulence. His comrades weren't talking, but instead were using the universal language of the hands to communicate. He figured that it was because everyone was too afraid to talk. It was no secret that in several days, Miltia would be reduced to nothing more than rubble and dust.

"Hey, let me have a drag." Luis Virgil leaned further over the seat in front of him and reached out for the cigarette. His two companions turned to stare at him. One of them was smiling.

"This is your first year in the Federation Marine Corps, isn't it, Virgil?" Curtis, four years Virgil's senior in rank, asked, handing over the cigarette.

Virgil took the cigarette and put it between his lips. He was eighteen, going on nineteen, and knew he could've passed for a twenty-six year old instead. He had more brains than most of the soldiers in the Federation, and his superiors weren't hesitant to tell him so. Indeed, it was his first year in the military, but he could pilot an A.M.W.S. like he had been doing it for years. There wasn't much to him that couldn't already be explained in his skillful techniques. His father had been a Federation soldier, as had his grandfather. Everything he knew, he attributed to them teaching him. They both had died fighting for their lives, but Virgil was determined to change his fate.

However, he knew he should've kept his mouth shut when the recruiters came by. He hadn't been debriefed about the mission at hand when he first signed up, but after he had, he wasn't sure if his first choice had been the best one. Although his other officers had recommended him specifically for the job, Virgil had never seen so many casualties before in his life. They're just numbers. If you don't see the face behind the mask, then does it really make them human?

He stole a long drag from the end of the smoking stick and pulled it away, blowing away the thin haze from his face. I don't need to think about this now.

"Yeah," he replied to Curtis' question, giving a dry chuckle. "It is."

"Heh," Derek's eyes trailed back to Curtis, the ends of his lips turning upwards in a smirk. "You must be a pretty good soldier to be able to land a position in the Federation's Second and Third Descent operations. Only the most skilled soldiers were recruited." Shaking his head, Derek added, "The Third Descent will be happening here in a matter of days. Are you prepared for it?"

"That's gonna be the operation that ends all operations, right?" Virgil asked, handing back the cigarette. Curtis received it and put it to his own lips.

"Yeah," Derek replied. "Our role is to infiltrate the city on the east end and meet up with the main unit there. After that, we wait for our orders to storm the streets and overtake the Acute Neurosis Treatment Facility."

"So…That's where it is being held?" The cigarette was still hanging out of Curtis' lips, making it almost difficult to hear what he was asking. "Who would've known?"

Virgil sat back in his chair, tuning out the other two. He made a point to stare out the window to ease his nervousness. The outdoors usually calmed him. No matter how hardcore he appeared, he was still human with a heart on the inside. The military wasn't even enough to take away his dignity. He still wasn't accustomed to taking another human's life yet. This mission itself was the first real crackdown against the U-TIC organization that he had to be a part of. Despite how brilliant of a man he was or how skilled his superiors thought him to be, the idea of destroying one planet was still weighing heavily on his mind.

Propping his chin on the flat of his palm, he stared at Curtis and Derek, who were talking about something else that was completely unrelated to their mission. He envied how composed they could be during such a mission, even if it was just a façade. The Second Descent hadn't been as bad as what was being planned next, but many of Virgil's comrades had already met their grizzly end. Most of their enemies had been the U-TIC marines themselves, but when they wanted someone else to do their dirty work, that's when they'd send out the Realians.

Virgil had always been taught in the Federation Military that Realians were built to serve humans and that their main objectives were to kill everyone and everything. They would even attack children if necessary. It was hard to refute this claim when he watched many of his friends that he had known since high school and comrades he had met in the military die before him by the hands of these creations. He had seen these Realians fight and he had seen these Realians kill. The more he thought about them, the angrier he became. Curtis and Derek were the last two he had met solely in the military to be on this mission. If they died, he would be all alone.

Curtis was a stocky brunette who was four years higher in rank than Virgil and almost seven years older. The two had met in training for this particular mission and became friends in those short few weeks. He smoked like a fiend and was always trying to foist the habit on Virgil. Every time he'd light up, he'd try to get the younger man to take a drag. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't. Virgil had never been big on the idea of smoking, but there was the need to relax every once in a while when things got tough. Although Curtis was a great A.M.W.S. pilot and a brilliant tactician, he was too laid back in the younger man's eyes. Some things he should've taken more seriously he chose to be lax in. Virgil knew, deep down, that that would be his ultimate downfall.

As for Derek, he was a man with a dark complexion, and a deeper understanding of the situation at hand. He was extremely bright and knowledgeable in his field. He was also the commanding lieutenant of the unit. Virgil met him through Curtis a little while back when the plan for the Second and Third Descents were leaving the infant stages. He had seen many battles, and Virgil surmised that his cool, collective behavior attributed to that fact. Once you've seen it all, I wonder if there's really anything left to be surprised about…Deep down, Virgil wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know the answer to that question.

His thoughts were interrupted when the car came to a sudden halt and he was jerked forward. He caught himself on Derek's seat.

"Woah, men," Derek stood up and looked to Virgil and then Curtis. "This here is just a pit stop. Take a breather while I calculate our surroundings and try to contact the main unit."

"Gotcha," Curtis grinned, finishing off his cigarette. "We'll scout ahead and meet back in ten. That all right with you, Lieutenant?"

"It's fine," Derek replied, staring at the driver. "Keep in mind our current location so you can come back without delay."

"You talk to me like I haven't done this before," Curtis said, but his tone was playful. "We'll be back in ten."

He stood up, stretched his back, and moved towards the door, sliding it open. It resounded with a screech as metal rubbed viciously against metal, and he hopped out. Virgil followed him from behind. Taking a look at his surroundings, Virgil kept the most important land features in mind.

The large vehicle had parked in the middle of a clearing, trees abundant from all sides, giving them a boundary to look to. The sky could be seen if Virgil looked directly upwards, but it was harder to look beyond the horizon without his vision being blocked by heavy limbs full with leaves. It was almost a cloudless day with a bright blue tinge staring back at him. Everything was incredibly green here, as though nothing malignant had ever interloped upon it to destroy its beauty.

Virgil was knee-high in fresh blades of grass, and he could smell their liveliness as the wind brushed by. He lifted his legs high in order to march forward behind Curtis, and he looked once back at the vehicle. Derek was still inside.

"Come on now, Virgil. You heard the Lieutenant. Let's make this fast." Curtis was already tapping away at his communicator, several screens popping up that showed pictures of their current position.

It was only a moment or two before the two broke through the barrier of trees and wandered into the forestry. Virgil knew that they were treading upon enemy territory, and he inattentively held his breath to keep from being noticed by others. He was startled a few times when songs from birds broke the silence between him and his comrade, and when other inhabitants of the forest roamed back and forth from tree, to log, to bush.

It didn't help that after he had become distracted, he was tripping over his own two feet, getting entangled by vines, and stumbling over large tree roots that had emerged above the surface of the ground. The light had also dimmed by the shadows of the trees above them. Virgil glanced up and realized that he couldn't even see the sky anymore, save a few patches in between limbs and leaves.

Curtis kept his eyes glued to the screen, but was able to successfully maneuver around without crashing into bushes and falling into ditches, unlike poor Virgil. He wandered around a bend, hugging a rocky cliffside closely, and ventured further down the forest path, which had opened up to a sizable distance that contained fewer roots and plants blocking the way.

Virgil had to swat several times at mosquitoes and large flies, but Curtis seemed too busy with his work to notice them. He cringed once when a horsefly bit him on the back of the neck. This is what it's all about, though. There's no use complaining. He bent down to pull broken blades of grass that had gotten trapped inside of his military boots. Tossing them aside, he quickened his pace behind Curtis. The brunette finally pulled his eyes from his communicator screen and looked up to gaze upon a shallow valley.

Virgil stopped in beside him, shoving his hands into his pockets and exhaling deeply. Only a few feet below them was another forest path, leading into a thicket that couldn't determine what was on the other side. Large plants lined the flowing pathway, abundant with multicolored flowers and heavy bushes. A bulky tree sat far back, its branches looming with the immense weight caused by the mountainous gathering of leaves.

A new scent caught his attention as the wind flowed by and he turned his head to the right. There, he saw, was a rather full bush plentiful with red, ripe berries. They seemed almost perfect, most coming in a natural round shape with just a perfect tinge of white from the reflection of light coming from up ahead. Looking at them made him realize how hungry he was.

"Location confirmed," Curtis' voice broke the long silence, causing Virgil to whirl his attention around to the open communicator. "We are approximately two-hundred and forty kilometers from the back gate stationed by unit one. They'll be awaiting our arrival so that we can head into the city and rendezvous with the main unit. Any questions?"

"Yeah. About how long will that be if we take all of these back routes? You know we can't take the main path because of all the security from U-TIC." Virgil cleared his throat, realizing that the fresh air was becoming a little too much for him. He hadn't been outdoors in a real forest for quite some time.

"Heh," Curtis closed his communicator and stuffed it into his pocket. "That's a good question. We'll have to ask the Lieutenant about that one." Withdrawing his infamous pack of cigarettes and lighter, his other hand plucked out a white stick and held it in between two fingers. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry."

"Way beyond that," Virgil chuckled. It felt good to laugh. Nothing much was funny these days. "I wonder if there's anything good in the city to eat, eh?"

"Well, along with Derek's map of Miltia, it's pretty good about having landmarks and rest places. We'll take a look when we get back to the vehicle." Lighting his cigarette and pushing his box and lighter back into his pocket, Curtis turned to stare at his companion. "Say, what we were discussing back in the van…"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't realize that you weren't a transfer."

Virgil looked at the other man awkwardly and folded his arms over his chest. "No, this is my first year."

"You never told me that."

"You never asked." Then, giving a soft bout of laughter, Virgil added, "My old man and his old man were in the Federation Marine Corps until the day they died. I learned a lot from them, so I guess you could say I got my training from the real deal."

"Man, I'm looking forward to when my term is up…" Curtis flicked away the ashes from the end of his cigarette. "The only reason I'm here is so that I could get away from my disciplinarians for parents." He paused for a moment. "Why did you join then?"

"Had to make a living," Virgil answered honestly. "Mom can't do much on her own, and I'm all that she's got left. With my being here, she gets more money than she could earn from her local job."

"Ha, you're such a saint," Curtis joked. "Guess that's what separates us, right, Virgil? I can't stand my parents."

Virgil turned away, watching a pair of chipmunks scurry into the bushes below. "To be honest, I don't mind being here. It gets my mind off of the real things in life. And besides, piloting an A.M.W.S ain't so bad either."

"You must be a real good pilot to get assigned to a mission like this," the smoking brunette commented. "Heck, even I was lucky to get here."

"You, Curtis?"

"Yup. In all actuality, Derek told me that the Federation wouldn't take any lower than a Sergeant for this mission. I'm not even that yet."

"It's no big deal," the blonde man shrugged. "What matters is what's about to take place here, right?"

"Yeah," Curtis agreed. "In a matter of days, the Third Descent is going to happen and our attempt to seize Labyrinthos will finally become a reality. There are just a few more things to figure out." He grinned, "The U.R.T.V.s for example."

"That's right, what are they going to be used for again?"

Taking another long puff from his cigarette, Curtis waited a moment before replying, "The objective of the U.R.T.V.s is to cut the connection between the A.M.W.S. belonging to the U-TIC organization as well as the Zohar."

"The Zohar," Virgil echoed softly. "That's their dependency for their power, right?"

"Yup. Anyway, the U.R.T.V.s are responsible for detaining U-DO. Ya know, that thing that's supposed to be main mechanism for controlling the Zohar."

"I see…" Virgil looked back to the shallow valley, chewing on his bottom lip. "Hey, Curtis?"

"Yeah?"

"…Have you given thought as to what may become of this planet if this gets taken too far?"

"Hmph," the brunette smirked, holding the cigarette to his lips again. "Coming from you, that's an odd thing to ask. Just the other day, I remember you saying that you could care less what happens to the planet."

"I said that I could care less what happens to those heartless monsters that try to pretend to be humans!" Virgil spat back, as though the subject was touchy. And indeed it was. "I watched my friends die to those Realians and their cold and calculating machinations! As far as I'm concerned, my highest priority in this mission is to exterminate them until the last one falls dead at my feet!" Growling, Virgil turned his back to Curtis. "They're the ones I could care less about. They're nothing more than filthy sacks of flesh that make my skin crawl. Even talking about them now makes me want to take a shower."

He could hear Curtis chuckle. "You know, Virgil, I've never seen you get this jumpy over a single species. One minute you're calm and collective, and the next moment, you're a fiery torch being waved around. I mean, sure, I can understand how you feel. A bunch of my friends were slaughtered by Realians." There was a short pause before he added, "Of course, my other friends were killed by soldiers, too. Soldiers…just like us."

"It's not the same!" the blonde retorted, his voice becoming sharp like a saw's edge. "You don't get it. Humans are capable of feeling pain. Realians have no remorse when they murder women and children." Whirling around to stare Curtis down, he said, "My father was killed by those things during a start-up test. They turned on their own masters and killed them."

Curtis said nothing after that, though he continued to gaze into Virgil's heated eyes. It took a moment for Virgil to realize what he had just said and he tore his attention away to stare at the ground in shame.

"I'm…sorry I said that," he mumbled. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's my pain to deal with, not yours."

"Don't worry about it," Curtis dropped his half burnt cigarette to the ground and stomped it out with the sole of his boot. "You needed to vent. We all do. While I may not agree with you, I know that you have your own feelings to tackle. I'm not going to reprimand you for that." Then, adding a smile, "Just let the Lieutenant do that instead."

"Yeah," Virgil forced himself to chuckle, though it came out dry and bitter. He was still angry. The thought of Realians made him angry. He couldn't expect Curtis to understand. He couldn't expect anyone to understand.

Realians weren't exactly a new thing. They had been around for a little while. After all, his father had died when he was twelve. His mother called it a "freak accident," but Virgil just called it "murder." Since then, there had been a deep seeded hatred for those things called "Realians." Whenever he had seen one on the street, he thought of his father. When he had met the platoon of them in the Federation Military, he thought of how his father had most likely pleaded for his life. He thought of all the pain his father had probably gone through and how those things called "Realians" didn't even give his father's life a second thought.

For as long as Virgil had known about the army, the battle was always with U-TIC and always involved Realians. For the whole first year of being in the military, Virgil watched many of his friends fall by the dozens during battle with Realians. His friends, comrades, and even superiors all died the same way. The more the Realians took from him, the more infuriated he became. He didn't want anymore of his friends and comrades to die by their hands. And if he was granted to power to do so, he would stop every Realian in his way.

They couldn't feel, couldn't love, couldn't feel regret…They could kill children without thinking twice. Women were no exception either. Innocent civilians who were caught in the turmoil were more than probable victims. The Realians lived to kill and they would kill if they could.

"I guess I can't blame you," Curtis broke Virgil from his trance. "I think it's time to head back now."

But before the two could turn around, they were deafened by gunshots and loud explosives. The world around them shook and they fought for their balance as their mind sought to understand what was going on. The quake only lasted for a moment, but it gave enough time for a large flock of screeching birds to evacuate from the trees that both Virgil and his comrade had just come from. A plume of smoke rose upwards into the sky, far from where the two stood, and it wasn't long before the smell of burning rubber was carried upon the wind.

"Something's gone on…" Curtis mumbled. "For us to be smelling rubber and metal this quickly…that explosion was a part of the aftermath, not the beginning of an attack! Derek!" Quickly leaving Virgil behind, the brunette darted into the forest, screaming for his friend as he jumped upon a protruding rock, and pulled himself over the side of the cliff. A moment later, Curtis was gone.

A dumbfounded Luis Virgil was left standing by himself, face pale and eyes wide. For some reason, he was out of breath, too. "C-Curtis…" he whispered, and then realized that he was all alone in the middle of nowhere. "Curtis!" He sprung back into the forest, lifting his legs high, and sprinted up the mountain after his comrade.

What just happened!? Where did Curtis go!? Were we…Were we ambushed…? Losing stamina fast, Virgil could feel his chest begin to burn. He wasn't out of shape, but the uphill climb was beginning to wear on him. He wasn't even sure of where he was going. I wish I had paid more attention to our location rather than the broad surrounding of it… He skidded to a halt when the forest path divided and his mind began to reel in reverse to see if he could actually remember if he had come this way before.

I…I don't think so. I don't remember this path. Did we…did we turn another way? He spun around in a circle, panting heavily, and his eyes sought desperately for the form of his companion. "Curtis!" he screamed into the open sky.

The heart inside of his chest ceased to beat when another round of gunshots echoed in the trees, driving off more squawking birds. Where did those come from? He tried to pull himself together, stepping back to observing the black haze that was rising into the sky. Northwest of my position. All right, I'm headed that way! Leaping over a set of thick bushes, Virgil nearly tripped over his legs during his landing. Catching himself and rising to an erect position, he looked back for a moment to view his small victory before pushing his body into an intense sprint.

Giving a sharp jerk to the right, he rounded the large rock that he vaguely remembered passing from before, and pulled himself up the hill, despite the protests from his aching muscles. He crossed over the forest path and back into the knee-length blades of grass, nearly swimming through certain overgrown patches in order to get back to where he had started. Some of the grass had already been greatly trampled, but Virgil wasn't for certain if that had been done by Curtis alone or when the two had ventured out this way the first time.

Nevertheless, he followed the blazed path through the meadow of hazel colored wheat and evergreen grass. His mouth ran dry from allowing his lips to hang open to grab twice the air that his nostrils could not intake. His legs were numb and his chest was sore. His heartbeat felt like a hammer, pounding at his ribs. Even his throat was stinging from the rapid air being inhaled and then immediately exhaled from his body. Coming to the edge of the meadow and breaking through the barrier of trees, Virgil spotted the military van that he had come on, but it was no longer in one piece.

The smoke that he and Curtis had seen came from their vehicle, a large fire erupting from within. Several blonde men in red uniforms sported guns in both hands, and were circling the van looking for something…or someone. Virgil stood there at the boundary of the clearing watching as his small unit had been overrun by these men. The van's front end had been completely torn away from the rest of the vehicle, which was where the fire had started in the first place.

All of the windows had been smashed in, and the van itself was dented all over, presumably from when the intruders had attempted to first get inside. It was too smoky inside the van to see if anyone else was still inside, and the grass was too tall to spot any bodies on the ground. The flames were quickly spreading, catching fire to the wheat and plants below. In a matter of minutes, a little less than half of the clearing would be engulfed in flames.

What…What happened here? Virgil could not find the words to speak aloud. Even his thoughts were unorganized and scattered. He could not believe what he was actually seeing. We were only gone for a moment! How could this happen!? He inattentively had begun to trudge forward, his eyes on the fiery van. Upon closer scrutinizing, he recognized the men as a battalion of Realians. Realian scum!? They're responsible for this!? How dare they…!

Virgil was screaming. He had withdrawn his gun and was charging at the Realians, firing round after round into the body of the closest Realian. The U-TIC Realian finally dropped its gun and fell into the grass with a soft thud. All attention turned to Virgil. The blonde Federation soldier stopped, panting like his lungs were going to burst, and suddenly thrust his hand into his pocket in search for more bullets.

His eyes did not leave the five Realians, who were stalking closer and loading their own guns.

"I'll take you all to hell with me, you murdering, slimy, rat-sucking…" Something in the grass caught his attention and he looked towards the ground. There was the form of a body lying facedown in the field, the back covered in blood with evident holes in his clothes. Found only a few feet away was a Lucky 7s box with cigarettes scattered about.

Virgil's eyes burned with the image of his friend dead, as his knocking knees collapsed beneath him and he fell on top of Curtis Larson. Holding him by the shoulders, it became evident that the brunette was no longer breathing. Virgil closed his eyes, trying with all his might to hold back his anger. He must've…come running up when all of this happened…and they turned and filled him full of lead. "Curtis…" he whispered. "I'm…sorry…"

The sound of a cocking gun brought the blonde soldier back to reality. The Realians were above him, guns aimed in his direction, and their attention was solely on Virgil.

"Virgil, get back!" shouted a voice from the far off distance. Virgil whirled his head around, searching for whoever it was that knew him, and several gunshots sounded off, catching two of the Realians in their sides.

They fell, and the remaining ones looked right, grunting and growling amongst each other. There was a quick rustle in the grass, and a hand on Virgil's shoulder. He gazed heavenwards to recognize Derek above him, gun in hand.

"There's too many of them," the lieutenant observed. "We have to retreat into the trees."

"But, sir…!"

"Come on, Virgil!" Derek's grip was strong, and Virgil was too scatterbrained to argue anyway. There was so much to take hold of. His unit had been attacked, Curtis was dead, and Realians were swarming the area.

"Where are we going?" Virgil found himself asking. It was a stupid question, he realized, after he had said it.

"We're going to find another way into the city," Derek answered, jumping through the grass. The blonde man was following on his lieutenant's heels. They didn't have to run far before breaking through the boundary of trees that Curtis and Virgil had crossed through earlier. "Realians can transmit information from one unit to another. We have to stay off the main path!"

"What?" Virgil blinked, the command not hitting him quite the way he knew it should've.

Derek gave a quick jerk, grabbed Virgil's arm, and yanked him off to the side. He suddenly turned back and continued running. Not knowing what else to do, Virgil mirrored his movements, swerving over bushes, leaping over tree roots, and crossing underneath a fallen log that had been caught upon the ledges above. Rising back over the hill that was beyond the log, Derek paused to give a quick reconnaissance of the area, and Virgil could hear his breathing from far off.

Waiting for further orders, the blonde soldier took this small window of opportunity to reload his gun, withdrawing spare bullet straps from inside his uniform. His chest was rising with such a heavy, hollowed pain coming from strained lungs and burning muscles. Virgil knew that now was not the time, but that he would have to rest soon. He brushed his nose, attempting to rid it of the burning sensation that came from the cold air hitting his face as he ran.

He was unable to give a thorough examination of himself because Derek looked back a short while later to bid him to follow again. Though tired, Virgil could not protest. He took off through the remainder of the trees on the hilltop, and descended to the bottom, facing off against bushes and thick plants. Derek pushed them aside with both arms swatting at stray leaves, and Virgil was forced to do the same, though he tried to keep quieter while doing it than Derek was. He knew that the Realians did not give up a pursued search so easily.

On the other side of the bushes lay a level surrounding with shaved grass, most likely a result from an animal that had been commonly found grazing at this location, and fewer trees. It overlooked the main path, but Virgil found that he could run no more and his lieutenant was in much of the same state. The blonde soldier collapsed to his knees, leaning back against a tree for further support, and watched as Derek did the same.

"This…this isn't safe…" the lieutenant of the unit panted, coughing a bit.

"Yeah," Virgil agreed, tilting his head heavenwards in order to allow the air to move freely through him without having to feel pain in his muscles. "But…just for a moment, okay?"

He looked at Derek, whose eyes were scanning the ground, as though something interesting was to be found there. "Yeah," the dark haired man agreed. "Just for a moment."

Virgil couldn't help his wandering mind to think of all of the events that had just transpired. Curtis' death, the flames overtaking the van, and the enemy unit of Realians wandering around all burned images into his mind. He cursed himself for his earlier thoughts of Realians and losing friends. He wasn't a superstitious man, but somehow he felt as though those thoughts had led to a chain reaction, resulting in all of this.

The Realians had killed his friend. Curtis…don't you see now why I feel the way I do? Perhaps if you had had a little more common sense, you'd be alive right now… He grunted, looking away from that trivial thought. It didn't matter now. Curtis was dead. He had been killed by those heartless machines. He had been killed just like his father and friends during the Second Descent had been killed. The pain was too much to bear. He hated Realians far more than he could ever imagine.

He hated them with such a burning passion that left his blood boiling like water on a stove…no…Like an erupting volcano, where the magma overflowed with such detestation all over his body, scarring his mentality entirely, but left a reminder of how much these machines had a piece of his withering heart. He wanted to take them by the neck and show them all that they had done to kill his kindness for them.

His face would reddened at the very thought of a Realian, and his hands would shake, often possessing something of hateful instrumental value, and he would quickly turn to rid the world of what had plagued it. Virgil knew his mission—his sole purpose in being a soldier—was to rid this planet of the infectious disease known as "Realian."

Curtis had been brutally killed. So had his father. And the people of his unit had been inside that car when it had been set aflame. They had been burned alive. All the work of these Realians, who probably had never given his friends' lives a second thought. Virgil could feel his fists tightening and his chest hardening with such vicious thoughts. He had been powerless to save every single one of them, but he was still alive, and he could still carry out this mission—his mission! The Realians would be killed, just like they should be. He would avenge their deaths with the deaths of their executioners.

Virgil would make himself that executioner. He wouldn't stop until the very last of them were gone. This was no longer a mission to be taken lightly. This was his personal quest, a vendetta of sorts. He would make this a reality.

"Virgil, what's wrong?" Derek, from across the way, asked. "Your face looks like it's ready to explode."

"Those Realians," Virgil spat. "They killed Curtis…" His eyes shifted back in the direction that he knew his van was in. "They killed our troops!" Eyes glazed with such anger, Virgil stared his lieutenant down, pounding a fist into the grass. "How!? Derek, how did this happen!?"

"Virgil," Derek gave him a stern face before tearing his eyes away from the blonde soldier's. "It was our fault."

"How!?" he shouted, anger overwhelming him.

"Keep your voice down!" Derek hissed. All of a sudden, the anger fled Virgil, and he sat calmly back against the tree.

"Sorry…" he muttered.

"You must learn to keep your anger in check! If you get angry, your eyes will be clouded and you won't be able to help anyone!" Virgil growled. Derek always was full of lectures and strategic planning. When the lieutenant finally calmed himself as well, he said, "We were out in the middle of an open field. An enemy aircraft probably caught our signal overhead. By the time our driver spotted them, it was too late."

"What do you mean by that?" Virgil interrupted, refusing to believe that the cause of the Realians' heartless actions was the fault of his own soldiers.

"Our driver caught the life signals of the Realians, but they had home field advantage. The grass was thick enough for them to crawl through without being seen." Derek shrugged. "I thought that their signals were actually coming from underground rather than just there in the grass. It wasn't until after we saw them surround the van that we realized our error."

"You made a mistake like that!?" Virgil couldn't believe it. It was unlike Derek to make such a silly error. "How could you…?"

"I know," Derek interrupted. "We locked the van and loaded our weapons. I went out first, feeling responsible for the enemy being able to get the upper hand. I hadn't trudged out far before I blown off my feet from an immaculate explosion."

"Immaculate?" Virgil asked. "That's such a way to put it."

"But it was perfect," Derek shook his head. "No one saw it coming. Not even me. They had planted a bomb underneath the van, and detonated it after they were able to crawl quite some feet away. They did it all so fast and so quietly, no one would've suspected it."

Virgil looked down at his dirty boots, the reminder of why they were so dirty haunting him. "What did you do?" he asked, almost below hearing audibility.

"I dashed into the forest, not really thinking clearly. Two of the Realians chased after me through the forest for quite some time. However, I was able to escape from them and came back to the burning van." Derek's face grimaced, a pang of guilt flashing through his eyes. "The Realians were still there, and I had just seen Curtis running up through the field."

"No…" Virgil shook his head, knowing what was coming next.

"I tried to grab his attention without giving away my own location for fear that the Realians still in the field would shoot us both. But Curtis was screaming and flailing his arms in such fright at the sight of the explosion."

"That's not like Curtis at all," Virgil protested, slightly skeptical of his lieutenant's story.

Derek straightened his back and looked at Virgil with such intensity. "You didn't really know Curtis all that well then, did you?"

"Huh?" the blonde soldier blinked, Derek's words striking him in an unusual way.

"Curtis always appeared cool and collective, but why was it do you think he had to smoke so much?" Derek didn't give Virgil the time to answer, "It was because Curtis was easily overwhelmed by his emotions. He always panicked at the first sight of an explosion or bloodshed."

"How do you expect me to believe that that was true!?" Virgil shouted, his own feelings getting the best of him.

"Because," Derek leaned in closer, but he wasn't shouting, "he was my best friend. I'm the one who got him into the military in the first place. He was just like you—an incredible soldier, but couldn't keep his emotions under control." The lieutenant straightened his back, "That's how I know."

Virgil could feel his breath being snatched from right out of his lungs. Derek's words were sharp, like a knife, and cut deeply through him. He said nothing more for fear of what else Derek would say.

"Curtis came running up through the field, screaming, and I couldn't stop him," the dark haired man continued. "The Realians turned, aimed their guns, and—"

"I know…" Virgil couldn't bear to hear anymore. His heart was wrenching in untold pain. He just couldn't take it. "I showed up shortly afterwards."

"Yes," Derek agreed. "And the rest is history."

Both heads were diverted from each other when there came a rustle in the bushes.

"We've stayed idle for far too long," the lieutenant said, rising to his feet. Virgil did the same, using the tree behind him for support. "It's time to move on." He began on a short jog towards the edge of the small cliff.

Virgil jumped down first, immediately breaking into a run on the main path, and he looked over his shoulder briefly to see his lieutenant do the same.

A gunshot rang throughout the sky.

There was a sharp cry and the sound of something heavy hitting the ground resounded in Virgil's ears. He gave a quick jerk and turned his body back towards his lieutenant, who was now lying facedown in the dirt.

"Derek!" Virgil shouted, hurling his body to the other man's side. His eyes immediately caught sight of the blood coating Derek's pant leg.

"Gah…" Derek struggled to pull his face away from the ground and Virgil helped support him from the front. "I've been shot in the leg. I…I can't move."

"Give me your arm and I'll help you stand up," Virgil told him trying to throw his lieutenant's arm over his neck. Derek pulled back.

"Don't. I'll just get in your way." Falling back to the ground, Virgil watched him fish into his pocket and emerged with a balled fist. "Give me your hand," Derek commanded, the side of his face pressed against the dirt. Virgil obediently obliged.

Derek dropped something in his hand that was small, cold, and heavy. Virgil pulled his hand back to stare at a small key in his palm.

"Lieutenant…" Virgil breathed. "What's this?"

"It's the key to the old gate to get inside Labyrinthos. The…the main unit needs that key in order to infiltrate it." Putting a hand on Virgil's knee, Derek added, "I'm entrusting this to you, Virgil. You must get this to the main unit!"

"Are you asking me to leave you behind!?" Virgil exclaimed. "I'm not going to do that, Lieutenant! We can still make it!"

"Don't be stupid," Derek said as the blonde soldier hastily put the key into his pocket. "I'll only slow you down. Now…get out of here!"

"Derek, I won't do that!" There was another gunshot and a stinging sensation overwhelmed Virgil as he clutched his right arm. It's numb…My right arm is numb…! He tumbled to the ground, screaming into the sky.

His arm felt as though thousands of pins had been driven simultaneously into the flesh and a cool liquid was trailing through his fingertips that were clenching the skin so fiercely. His eyes seemed like they had been nailed shut when he closed them, and his muscles were on fire. His voice was hoarse and he was running short of breath. I…I've been shot!

"Those Realians," he barely heard Derek over his incredible wails. "They…were the ones that followed me. I can't believe…they're here now…"

There was the sound of boot on body, and there was a cry of pain coming from Derek. Virgil's eyes shot open, and he forced himself to sit up, still holding his bleeding arm. Two Realians were above Derek, kicking him in the side and beating him with the butts of their guns. Acting upon impulse, Virgil jumped up and attempted to tackle one of the Realians to the ground.

He missed, received a blow to the head, and a swift elbow strike to the mouth. Dazed, Virgil felt his body being tossed backwards to the ground, and another gunshot rang out. Again, Virgil could feel his body let out a terrible howl as his good arm moved to his side. I…I can't believe this…I've been shot…again…

He had no time to think about the pain when a blow came to his chest, knocking the wind from him and crushing his ribs. His body was violently overturned, and his face met the ground all too abruptly. Giving a heavy moan, he could feel the point of a gun meet with the flesh on the back of his neck.

"Stop it!" Virgil heard Derek's voice and another gunshot rang out.

The gunshot sounded different than that of the Realians' guns. The gun belonged to Derek, and he was up on his knees when Virgil found the strength to open his eyes and turn his head. Derek's aim was at the closest Realian to Virgil, but he had been unfortunate enough to miss.

"Derek…" Virgil wheezed, "You fool. You should've…You should've escaped…"

The furthest Realian doubled back, swinging the barrel of the gun upwards, like a baseball bat, into the jaw of Derek's face. The lieutenant was thrown from his knees and landed vehemently on his back, blood pouring from his mouth. He coughed and sputtered, slowly bringing his hands to his mouth to ease the pain. The Realian whose attention had been focused on Virgil joined the other Realian by Derek's side, beating him with the gun in his arms.

"Stop it!" Virgil cried out, forcing his body upwards onto his knees. He turned as Derek's body went sailing into the air and landed facedown once more. Virgil could do nothing more but watch his friend be beaten to near death, his own injuries rendering him immobile. The Realian who had aimed his gun at Virgil now placed the barrel to the back of Derek's head. "No! Stop!" Virgil screamed, nearly toppling forwards. He caught himself just in time to see the Realian pull the trigger, a gunshot reverberating in Virgil's ears, and Derek moved no more.

It's so much to be expected… Virgil watched the Realians kick the body over to make sure that Derek was dead before turning their attention away from the corpse of his lieutenant and aiming their guns at him. He gave his life to make sure that I survived. But…I can't move. Derek… Quickly withdrawing his own gun, he unsteadily aimed it at the Realians. They looked unconcerned with him. He cursed inwardly to himself.

"I can't die before I rendezvous with the main unit!" Derek…Derek told me to meet with them…It can't end here! Suddenly, his eyes were unfocused on the Realians as a group of people charged down from the hill behind them. A young woman in her early twenties led the pack.

"Take that!" A fiery redhead dressed in black came out with guns blazing, taking down one Realian by surprise. A blonde Cyborg, which was unusual to see in days like these, skidded to a halt behind the small redhead, taking the second Realian behind the neck with one arm and using his other to break its neck.

Both Realians fell quickly and easily. It made Virgil somewhat disgusted that he could not have done something so easily himself. When the fight was over, the entire group stepped up to surround him. People like these…they're dressed differently than what I'm used to seeing. Still…they could be spies!

The woman stood before him, crossing her arms over her chest. She was a brunette with green eyes and silky features. Behind her stood the redhead and the Cyborg was to his right. Around her were several others, ones who ranged from a little girl in a red beret to an older man who carried a samurai sword. It didn't matter to Virgil. He wasn't going to be taken down by the likes of them.

"And just who are you supposed to be?" Virgil was panting hard, the loss of blood finally wearing him down. He wasn't sure if it was right to be grateful or not just yet. But it was his instinctive nature to be rude—especially to people he didn't trust. Finding the strength to withdraw his gun, he aimed it at the woman in front of him, trying his hardest to appear daunting and ferocious. "Drop…your weapons…!" Taking another breath, he added, "I'll shoot you if you don't follow—" My side…My side!

Dropping his own gun and doubling over in pain, he gave a loud moan and clutched his side. "Nghaa…" he clenched his teeth, feeling the blood rush between his fingers.

He heard the woman gasp and say, "It can't be!? Lieutenant Virgil!?"

Lieutenant who? I'm barely an officer as of now! Virgil wasn't given the time to make a protest before the redhead gave the same reaction and looked back and forth between Virgil and the woman.

"Virgil? The Testament!?"

"Yes," the woman agreed. "He looks a little different, but there's no doubt it's him." Then, her eyes became unfocused from the boy and she looked back at Virgil. "But how?"

The blonde Federation soldier's eyes vacillated from the boy, to the woman, and then back to the boy. They…they know me? "How do you know my—" Gods! My side! I…He doubled over again in agonizing pain.

"He's hurt," the woman said, observantly. Great eyes you got there, lady. It only took you…Gah…! Virgil grimaced again and cursed underneath his breath. He heard her footsteps come nearer to him and he reached for his gun again.

"Don't touch me!" he shouted, aiming his pistol at her midsection. The woman jumped back in surprise more than in fear. Her face was resilient, and she placed her tiny hands upon her hips, looking annoyed.

Sighing, she said, "Don't move and let me treat your wound."

Like hell I'm gonna…oh…gods…the pain…I can't see anymore… His gun dropping from his hand, Virgil could no longer keep up his strength to stay conscious. He felt his body tumble backwards and all went black.