Rotundum is the name of the galaxy that was stripped of all its languages, customs, identities and everything it owned after losing a war that got a little out of hand. This war was known by the State as the Unum War and started in the year 2399. Earth, as the textbooks had it, where all humans were originally from, was at the peak of its technological advancements and its economy had never been better. Apparently, not even a century before, humans living anywhere but Earth was unheard of. However, due to population increase along with plain curiosity at the time, they were soon everywhere in the galaxy. A company, what is now known as the State, was growing popular, as they dealt with families, their health, and insurance and the like. Everyone invested in it. It decided to better the universe and run it more smoothly with big plans and ideas. The people didn't like that and rebelled. And the company did what it had to.

It was an excruciatingly long war, lasting about two hundred years. Billions lives were lost, and in the end, the State overpowered them. Now, in the year 3000, it is the dawn of a new millennium, and there is peace and harmony between everyone. No more rebellion, no more crime, only love for the State.

'Bull,' the exasperated teen huffed audibly as he finished reading the passage in his textbook. Luckily, he didn't have to stare at the words for much longer when the chiming of the bell announced the end of the school year. He let the grin he'd been suppressing to spread across his face, ignoring the teacher scolding him for rushing out the door without dismissal. He also ignored his brother as he passed him in the hall and dashed out into the courtyard.

Now, technically, the school's courtyard was only used during assemblies and sometimes lunch. But this was the fastest way to the shortcut he took everyday. He passed by the fountain and soon found the small dent in the black iron fence that he'd been using for years, somehow slipping through the bars and landing on the ground (there was a small drop, you see) with only a small bit of resistance from his mid-section. He let out a sigh before continuing down the gravel alley. He'd have to hit the gym again.

He eventually stumbled down into the road next to the ocean, which held a harbor for shipping most things on the planet from their small town of Haven Port. He was greeted with the sharp, sudden smell of salt and the sound of gulls. Even though Rotundum was extremely advanced, this was Sector 0, or Old Earth, as the textbooks say (though, he was starting to consider whether trusting what the textbooks said was a good idea), and while majority of technology was made there, they weren't allowed to use it. Instead, it was shipped everywhere else. This particular sector is notorious for getting next to nothing from the State, since it was where the original rebellion started, after all.

Most people lived in the small spaces behind the stalls, selling fish, fruits, maps and the like. Many of the places had been rebuilt or refashioned with metal sheets of iron or alloys covering them. There were also posters, advertising and other things, but they were all layered over each other. The place had a rustic feel, which, being by boats and the sea and all, wasn't entirely odd.

He arrived next to one of the boats and looked around to see if anyone was looking, though it was pointless. Besides, anyone there probably either didn't care, or were too busy doing it themselves. State Knights haven't bothered with their village for quite some time. Still, you can never be too careful. He coughed and caught the attention of a younger-looking woman with gray hair. She held a clipboard in her hand, overlooking everyone piling up the boxes onto the boat.

"Al!" She grinned. "Alfred F. Jones, what brings you here today?"

Alfred coughed, looked around once more, and muttered, "Nothing much, Sue, just enjoying the nice breeze and the atmosphere. How're the waves?"

Sue raised an eyebrow. "Of which do you speak of?"

"Right under our noses," he looked around once more before he returned his eyes to hers expectantly.

Bingo. She nodded in understanding. "Yes, well, this has been fun, but I'm afraid we're to set off soon." She held out her hand and Alfred immediately reached back, taking her hand in a firm shake and pretending not to feel the cold metal pressed onto his palm. She released and walked away quickly. Alfred did the same in a different direction. He fingered the key that was now deep in his jacket pocket and allowed himself to grin (even more so than he was before) childishly.

The sun was going down soon, but Alfred knew Matthew, his brother, could handle himself and things at their small place. This certainly hadn't been the first time he'd gone out to do this. Crap, he remembers doing this not long after his parents left. The Knights took them from them one day when they were coming home from elementary school. It had been violent. Ten years later, and he still wakes up at night hearing Matthew murmuring for them to run in his sleep.

Eventually, he arrived to a larger ship at the end of the docks, the final border between their small land and the ocean. It resembled an old-fashioned cargo ship made from sturdy pines and light oaks. A long, black, quilt-like cloth was spread over the mast, covering half of the ship. He waved to a tall, bulk, intimidating man guarding the stairs that lead on board. The man relaxed and lowered his spear, smiling back at the bright teen. "G'day, Alfred. Here to see ol' Cap'n again today?"

"Nah, I'm on a schedule today. Tell him I said hi, though." Alfred smiled and walked up the stairs, adding, "And, also tell him not to overwork himself as usual!" and climbed up the boards arranged in a ladder-like manner on the side of the ship. He heaved himself on deck, waved to a few more of the crew, and headed down below deck. It was dim and the air smelled musty with a hint of alcohol, which didn't help his poor eyesight already. He walked up to a table of more intimidating men drinking and playing cards. He 'ahem'ed and caught their attention.

They stared him down for a few moments. "Aye," It was more of a demand then a question, but it didn't phase the teen.

"Five baunts' worth, if you don't mind," Alfred threw the silver key onto the table, all eyes turning to it. It looked worse for wear, but they soon realized the value it held. One grinned lopsidedly and motioned for Alfred to follow, which he did, and led him to a storage closet. Three filled, wheat-knitted bags fell out of the closet. The man pushed them with his foot in Alfred's direction.

"Lucky lad, ye are. Don't findkeys like that everyday," He smirked. "Ye're also lucky that the Cap'n fancies ye so, or else ye'd have no place to bargain. Care to join us for a round, lad?"

Alfred lugged the bags over his shoulder, only stumbling for a split second under the weight, sending a friendly smile to the men. "Nah, thanks for the offer. Also, tell the captain, 'I'll visit soon, so don't rant all day.'"

Alfred will admit, carrying the bags were a little odd. Not that he couldn't handle the weight- no, of course not, he did this often-, but doing it discreetly around all the merchants and buyers, all giving him weird looks, well, it was a little unsettling. He wasn't in a mood for assholes who felt like stealing. It wouldn't be the first time. Sometimes, he felt lucky to live in his little town, but at the same time, he didn't. For example: he picked up a bunch of defensive (and offensive) moves from living around here, but at the same time, the circumstances that led him to learning such things weren't so great.

Alfred eventually got to the abandoned, Victorian-style house on the other side of town. After their parents were taken, Matthew and Alfred didn't go home for days, too afraid of seeing the tall men with white, stained, royal-looking uniforms and long, blue capes. Their twisted smiles as they robbed them of what they loved dearly. When they finally, reluctantly, came back, it had been burned. Nothing remained but ashes and a single blue rose growing in the center. Needless to say, the elder sibling had soon grown a hatred for the artificially grown weed.

The sun had long gone down, and he could hear Matthew trying to cook inside. Knowing that he still had another place to go, and that if his younger brother knew he was around he'd keep him there, he slipped one of the three bags on his shoulder through the crack in the door and started towards his next destination.

The blond teen was close to a nearby blacksmith, and while why he was in the town was a mystery, he made some freakin' good equipment and the like. They weren't for sale, but he also made weapons that were shipped off to the state. Many of the people like Alfred himself found that this meant that if you wanted something, you'd have to trade, which was illegal. He lived near the edge of town, the opposite direction from the ocean, near the mountains so he could get pretty good ores and other raw metals and minerals.

Alfred had to go down the alley way- you know, the one by the courtyard- to get to the entrance. The man didn't exactly like company, so the front door was always locked. He kept the back door open all the time, though. He maneuvered through the metal scraps that littered the yard and pushed open the door to the house (But could one really call it a house? It looked more like a shed) with the fire inside illuminating the floor in an amber glow. He knocked once, twice, three times before walking in, already hearing the hammering of metal and the steam from cooling it in the water.

"Mr. Ludwig!" He called out, "Hey, it's me, Alfred! I brought the usual!"

Alfred got a grunt in response and followed it until he came upon the man. Ludwig Beldischmit was from another Sector (Sector 6, Alfred guessed) with a thick accent and features foreign to the area. His hair was pale, his blue eyes were pale, and his skin was pale, too, no matter how often he went outside in mountain range's brilliant sun. Most that lived around Haven Port were tanned from being out on the water and had dirty shades of hair and almost unnatural shades for eyes (like browns on the verge of orange, greens on the verge of sea, blues on the verge of violet, etc.). Mind you, Alfred himself was an exception, for his eyes were also a natural-looking blue, but that was because his mother was from a different Sector. Because of the man's differences, he was often rumored about, called odd if you will. But Alfred was never one to listen to that sort of thing, anyway.

Alfred watched Ludwig for a moment in the doorway before approaching him. He noticed that he was currently inspecting a sword. Alfred recognized it immediately and beamed with excitement.

In all the years he'd known him, ever since ten years ago when he and Matthew began living on their own, that same sword had always caught his attention. The blade was about four inches in width and a few inches or so longer than his arms. It gleamed a pale blue, and along the handle were purple swirls that lined it. Ludwig had always told him it was amethyst dust in glass, which always made his blue eyes gleam in wonder and amazement. Where the hilt and blade met, there was a blue jade dragon engraved with some sort of lettering he didn't recognize across it. Apparently, it was a mixture of Latin and English. But he had never heard of either.

No matter how much he offered, Ludwig never sold him the sword. And it pissed the crap out of him.

Alfred dropped the two bags onto the ground, allowing Ludwig to inspect them with a raised eyebrow. "In exchange for...?"

"Nothing, of course," He beamed. "It's to repay all you've done for me and Mattie over the years."

"That's absolute bull, and you know it." Alfred's smile twitched at the comment, but didn't fade. Ludwig didn't even bother letting him respond, neither did he look up from the sword. "You've been refusing trade for months now. What is it you want? Supplies? More fixtures for your house?"

Alfred sighed. "Ludwig, both you and I know that I want that," he pointed to the sword, "So why not just get to the point? I figured it'd be a good present for me, what with my birthday in a month or so,"

"Alfred," Ludwig set the sword down on a wooden stump used as a makeshift table before turning to the teen, "I'm afraid I can't do that. You need to get it through your head. Besides, it's not my sword to sell..."

Wait, what? This was new.

"What do you mean, 'not your sword'?" Alfred frowned. "Didn't you make it?"

"Partially," Ludwig took a swig of water and grimaced. It wasn't the beer that he loved, but he didn't want to get dehydrated working near heat all of the time. "... Before I moved here, I worked with some others to make it. Technically, we'd all have to give consent for it to be sold. But that's not possible now,"

"Not possible?"

"... When I left, it wasn't just a simple move," Ludwig sighed. "Alfred, listen to what I'm about to tell you very carefully. I've waited years to tell you this, but I fear there isn't much time."

Alfred had a billion questions already. Time for what? Simple move? What the crap was he talking about? The rational part of his mind, however very small it was, told him to keep quiet, so he only nodded.

"First, the State's royal family's youngest son is missing."

"Oh, hell,"

"Exactly," Ludwig grunted. "The State isn't to be trusted. You should know this. You remember the Knights, yes?" The wince Alfred gave in response answered yes. "They exterminate anyone they believe is thinking of rebellion. That is common knowledge to all, but there are things... That they keep secret from the public. Do you remember the story I told you as a kid? The one about the five heirs to the throne?"

"Vaguely," Alfred answered honestly.

"The Queen and the Fae Queen were sisters bound to be apart, one being human and the other Fae, but they were each other's best friends. When the Queen had three sons, they were each given a gift from the Fae Queen as a gift, but when the Queen asked what she should do in return, the Fae Queen only said, "In due time,". The eldest son inherited power. The second eldest inherited the gift to see the truth. The third eldest inherited extreme artistic skill. But they were greedy and kept to themselves. The eldest son found himself becoming very angry and vengeful. The next was soon driven to madness. The third never learned communication and believed his art was the only thing real in the world.

"The Queen was horrified, and her sister very disappointed. She told her older sister one day, "Your sons did not meet their expectations, and they are forever doomed to their self-pity. Since they did not, you must give me something more valuable than my gifts." The Queen thought and thought, and in the meantime, had two more sons. She had seen neither high nor tail of the Fae Queen and thought her family would be safe. However, the younger sister appeared one day and said, "In exchange for majority of my power, those gifts that I held dearly, you shall give me one son." The Queen was heartbroken, but did so. When her sister left with the fourth eldest son, she used the tiny bit of Fae in her blood to cast a spell on the Fae Queen. Her soul was to be suppressed in her older sister's body, which surely meant death for them both, but for her son, she deemed it worth it. On her deathbed, she cast her blessings, along with the two final gifts the Fae Queen had left in her, to wherever her son may have been."

"Yeah, that long story, I remember," Alfred nodded dismissively, trying his best not to yawn. That used to put him to sleep as a kid when he was actually interested in fantasy tales. Now it just bored him more. Ludwig did not seem fazed by this, for he blinked and continued.

"The State has been going around looking for anything that mythical powers could have to do with. There's a bunch of science involved, but I'll spare you the boring details," he cleared his throat, "While society has progressed in science amazingly in the past millennium, it's also given us an insight to the beings—the Fae – that co-existed among us. They were hidden for a long time, but we eventually gained the ability to communicate with them. Our science is their magic, and their magic is actually our science."

"Yeah, Mom used to research stuff like that I think," Alfred mumbled. He was sure that's what his mom researched. He remembered his parents staying up by the candlelight and keeping occupied. He remembered the lines growing darker around their once vibrant eyes beneath their glasses (that they didn't need until then). But he wasn't going to say anything. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The State, they," Ludwig frowned, "They are after any sort of science not practiced within the capital's walls. The people who helped me make this, they... We fooled around with some things while making it. Science, you know..."

Alfred leaned in, waiting for him to conclude this ridiculously long explanation, when Ludwig jumped back into his military-like posture. "It is late, Alfred," His face drew into lines of slight discontent. "Go home. Matthew is probably worried."

"What?" Alfred blinked and stood up as the older man ushered him out. "But—I – What are you—," He turned around just in time to see the old wooden door close for the first time in a while.

Matthew had just about given up on waiting and was about to eat Alfred's portion of dinner when the latter had toppled in gracefully through the window. It had snapped him out of his sleepy state and straight into alarmed. He stared at the window until he heard another thud, this time followed with a loud, "Ah, crap!"

"Al?" He called tentatively.

"Yeah! Sorry I was out so late," Alfred came tumbling into the dining room with his hair disheveled and out of breath. "Talkin' with Ludwig again, you know how it is,"

Matthew raised an eyebrow as his brother sat in the chair across from him, watching him closely as he shrugged his blazer off onto the chair. "I don't, really," He sipped his drink. "But okay."

The atmosphere was tense in the dim-lighted room, the only sound being Alfred's noisy eating and Matthew's sighing every once and a while. He glanced at his reflection in his drink, shaking his caramel bangs out of his eyes. He blinked. His reflection blinked back at him, daring him to speak, so he sighed louder and said,

"You don't need to lie, you know,"

Alfred stopped himself from tearing into his meal to look at his twin. "What? Lying—I'm not lying, Mattie," He grinned it off. His grin immediately fell when Matthew just blinked. He could never lie to his brother. "Okay, fine... I traded at the docks..."

"Again? Alfred-!" Matthew huffed quietly. His voice dropped to a low whisper, "Alfred, you know you shouldn't be doing this. You remember what happened to Mom and Dad. Do you—"

"-They've got nothing to do with this," Alfred's eyes narrowed as he interrupted.

"—do you want the Knights to come back? They have everything to do with this! They went out a-and did these illegal things," he gestured wildly at a spot at the table with his eyes trained there, as if his point was right there, visible and proven. "They did those things and spent all that time doing who knows what with all the stuff they got! And they got in trouble!"

"Matthew, that has nothing to do with it!"

"I'm telling you, Alfred, it does! God, get it through your head! You're going to get both me and you in trouble-"

"Shut up, Matthew..."

"Alfred, let me—!"

"I said shut up!" Alfred's voice projected throughout the room, lower and deeper than per usual as he stood and hit the table with his hands. He held the startled teen's violet gaze for a few seconds. Then he sighed. "I have to provide for us. They weren't providing for us when they went out and did this," He used the last amount of a glare he could muster, and it matched his tired voice, "It was for them, not for us."

And so he stomped upstairs to bed. Matthew sighed and glared at his drink again. He heard footsteps come back down the stairs. Alfred showed up at the doorway again, looking tired. "And what the hell have you been doing for us? You don't do anything! The only time you leave the house is when you go to school, and it's never been alone!"

Matthew simply stared at him with an unreadable expression. "Say something! Aren't you angry?" No response. "You know what? Maybe if you weren't so afraid of the world, maybe we wouldn't be here."

The words stung both of them. But it had been repressed for far too long. Alfred knew he was partially to blame, but he couldn't take back anything he said. It's how he felt, and he was never one to lie, regardless of how cruel the truth was. Matthew's lack of response only made him that much more agitated with himself, which made no sense. He should be mad at his brother. Right?

"… Fine," Alfred huffed and involuntarily stomped his way upstairs. He thought he heard Matthew make a sound, but he didn't want to hear it.

When he reached his bed, he literally fell onto the mattress face-first and let out an exhausted groan. He wished Matthew understood. It was all for their survival, wasn't it? Why is Matthew against him supporting them? Why doesn't he help? If life were more simple… If his parents were here…

He didn't even understand his last thoughts before he passed out, which were blurred:

If he had that damned sword…

Hot.

When his eyes snapped open, instead of feeling the need to yawn and stretch, he was assaulted with a dry, scratchy throat and a watery feeling in his eyes.

Hot.

Alfred snapped up and gasped, which proved to be a bad decision as he began coughing something awful. It felt as if every cough wracked his body and came from the bottom of his throat, tearing everything up with it. He tried to open his eyes, but they clamped back shut after catching a stinging glimpse of a foggy, bright light.

The next thing he tried to do was stand. As soon as he did, he felt a burning sensation in his stomach as his knees wobbled. He clutched onto the bed for support with one hand and squeezed his stomach in his other, every cough seizing all of his movements.

Hot.

Alfred began to wonder why on earth it was so hot and why he wasn't sweating. Also, why was his throat dry? And why did his nose burn when he attempted to inhale?

That's when he caught the scent of smoke and realized that he needed to move.

Despite his body's protests, Alfred shakily rose to his feet and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. He pressed them closer to his eyes unlike he usually did, normally preferring to keep them on the bridge of his nose. He then tore of a fair portion of his t-shirt, simultaneously rubbing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to try to gather some moisture.

As his vision began to clear, he wrapped the cloth around his nose and mouth, biting a portion of it afterwards, wanting to shout at it, 'Get wet, darn it, so I can breathe!' He then began to move.

About halfway down the stairs, he heard a creaking noise from above amongst all the crackling of fire. He quickened his pace, taking a shallow breath through his now-damp piece of fabric he was using to filter for at least a drop of oxygen and held it. The roof was about to cave in, and he didn't want to be in the house when he did. Adrenaline pumping and his heart beating against his ribs so hard he feared they might break, he jumped down the last few steps right as the windows began to pop. A few shards nicked him on his face and on his arms as they fell, causing him to wince. But he bit his lip. It hurt, but he wasn't about to open his mouth and loose what little oxygen he had left.

Alfred finally, after what seemed like forever, made it to the door. He could practically feel the cool night air radiating through the cracks of the old wood. Then he heard wood snapping from above him and stopped fantasizing about what was on the other side. He banged his shoulder against the wood, fearing that the doorknob would burn his hand. He did this until his lungs felt like they were about to give out, as well as his shoulder, and finally felt a rush of cold air hit his face as the door fell forward. He immediately dived outside just in time for the entire skeleton of the house to creak and pop loudly, shifting at unnatural angles.

In the back of his mind, something finally managed to surface out of the chaos that was remembering how to breathe and rest. Where was Matthew?

The house gave in with a loud groan and crash.

Alfred immediately began to panic, though from what, he was not sure, when a wave of nausea swept his balance from under him. He felt it coming before he threw up once, then twice. It didn't make his throat feel less dry, if anything, but torn and scratchy. He didn't feel like he could get up, but somehow he found himself up on some deformed-feeling noodles clearly mistaken for legs.

It felt like a few hours later, as the sky seemed to brighten overtime, but he found that it wasn't until he'd gained some distance from what used to be his house before he could begin to breathe and think properly. Where was Matthew? Did he get out in time? There were no feasible answers to these questions now, so he skipped them for an easier one. Why did the house catch on fire so suddenly? It didn't seem natural. It was evenly spread and he didn't hear anything explode. Therefore, he deduced that it was probably synthetic. However, by whom?

Alfred glanced over at the collapsed house before something caught his eye.

Feeling as if he'd just woken up from a nightmare, he scrambled over to the pile of wood. There was still fire, but both it and the heat was less concentrated and mostly kept itself around the edges of the pile. If that wasn't a dead giveaway that it wasn't a natural fire, then what he found as he reached the center of the wood (there seemed to be a clearing of just ashes mixed with dirt) definitely was.

There sprouted a single blue rose. Alfred felt his heart stop and his blood boil.

He needed to run.

Alfred yanked the rose out of the ground without thinking and took off. He was sure that Matthew wasn't here now, but that didn't quell the storm brewing in the pit of his stomach. If anything, it only conjured more things that made him worry. He wasn't sure where he was running, but he didn't really care.

Mattie's leaving. They're taking Mattie. Mom's gone. Dad's gone. They're all gone.

In his frustration, he ran faster. He felt the urge to run after something. Was it Matthew? Was it them? The answer seemed to be none of the above. After a while of ceaseless running, he found himself facing an all-too-familiar place which he wished wasn't. He found himself facing Ludwig's house, back door halfway open as always. He initially felt relief. A dose of stability for his confused, heroic-and-definitely-not-scared state, if you will. Then his eyes just so happened to look down for a second and he saw footprints of boots. Not the ones Mattie had received for his birthday, either, which were two sizes too big. Before he could contemplate this further, he heard something shatter from inside and he was pulled from his thoughts, followed by a shout in an unidentifiable language. It was Ludwig.

Alfred dashed inside without thinking, finding himself face to face with his exhausted, slightly ruffed-up-looking brother. Initially, Matthew stumbled from trying not to bump into his brother, opened his mouth once, letting out a mixture of a syllable and a gasp, and then shook whatever words he had out of his head and proceeded to try to push past. Alfred, still mostly confused, grabbed his arm and pulled back, earning himself both an almost-fall on his part and a loud squeak on Matthew's. The noises inside ceased, as well as Matthew's movement, as if someone hit a pause button.

He took this moment to inspect his little brother before him. His dress shirt looked worn and torn in places, and his pants had burn holes around his thighs. Instant over-protective older brother mode had been activated. Matthew had a few cuts around his face, the ends of his hair uneven. Alfred wondered exactly had happened to his kin.

Then, when Alfred began to speak again, everything stirred to life once more. There was a thud from inside, followed by shouts. At this, Matthew collected himself and pushed by Alfred once more, more forcefully than before. This caused them both to tumble to the ground, however. Given the opportunity finally, Alfred huffed. "Mattie, what—"

That's when he saw the figures in the doorway, the familiar white uniforms and everything.

Knights. Two of them. Right in front of him.

Alfred would later lie that he did not freeze up and lose every bit of oxygen, common sense, and train of thought at that moment. He felt seven again at that moment, with his brother next to him, the smell of ashes still lingering around him. Small. Weak. At the mercy of these people who are supposed to lead the galaxy in peace. What a joke, he would've spat had he not been trembling on the ground.

Matthew's breathing became erratic in a way that unsettled him. The two men before him turned to each other and shared a look that made him wish he wasn't there. There was an angry, almost hungry look in their eyes.

"Matthew Williams," Spoke one with a red beard and piercing teal eyes, "...correct?"

The noise Matthew made was indefinable. It was almost a squeak, but it was heartbreaking in a way that an abandoned puppy in the middle of the road would make you feel. Alfred was certain now that whatever was going on was completely beyond him.

The other one, that had an air of arrogance about him, grunted impatiently, "Come on, little man," he said as if he were asking a little kid if they knew where their mother was, "Are you the son of Mr. and Mrs. Williams or not?"

Alfred straight away felt a wave of understanding, yet... he hadn't figured anything out yet. There was something nagging at him in the back of his mind, screaming at him to remember, but he couldn't.

Finally, in a small voice, Matthew replied, "... yes."

The Knights wasted no time in plucking him off the ground in a way that reminded him of when his father caught him and his brother watching their parents working late at night. How nervous and suspicious he was. And, all of a sudden, this little detail brought the answer to the front of Alfred's thoughts.

The teen remembered talking with Ludwig, how his parents would research. And then how Matthew said that they had illegally traded as well. That was why his parents had been sent of to who-knows-where, and he knew this. But he knew, now, why this current situation was happening.

Someone tipped off that the Williams' son had been doing the same. And he himself took his mother's maiden name. This would mean...

Oh no.

When Matthew reaches around to adjust their hold (whether because he had given up and it was uncomfortable or he was trying to fight back, Alfred wasn't sure. He hoped it was the first), he's finally brought out of his stupor. He finds a way onto his feet as a strangled cry escapes his lips. "Mattie!" He continues his outbursts as he struggles to put each foot forward into a clumsy sort of run. He charges and tackles one of the Knights to the ground, catching him off guard.

It's funny how he, normally, could carry 100-pound bags of things to trade- things that got him into this mess- but all of a sudden, he had almost little to no strength in him. It felt like that, at least.

Ludwig appeared in the doorway, as if out of nowhere, and within seconds he was on the other man. He yelled something at Matthew, who was still standing, before the startled man retaliated. Ludwig tried his best to keep him down. Matthew took a few seconds to break his trance before he turned into the house and began to run.

Alfred, distracted by his brother's departure, didn't notice that the Knight under him had enough time to recover and was pushed off and onto his back yet again. The man touched a spot on his collar and spoke, "Backup, Williams is on the run,"

No sooner than when Alfred realized what he was doing and pressed his forearm into the man's neck, seizing his actions, they all heard a familiar cry from the front of the house. Alfred leaped up and rushed, hoping and praying to no one in particular that he wouldn't be too late. He jumped over the toppled over boxes and scraps of metal until he got to the front door that was off a hinge. There was a weird sound that reminded him of the motors on the skyboats at the harbor. They were rare, since they mostly shipped off to other places in Sector 0, but every once and a while, he'd hear one far off. This sound was immediate and loud, vibrating on his ears. Wind blew his hair back. "Mattie!" His voice struggled to be heard.

There was a scream, and he held onto the wall as he watched his brother being lifted into an aircraft with a flag of the State on the bottom. His blood went cold. So many of his nightmares materialized in front of him. He felt as if he was suddenly launched into a dream-like state, only feeling the ground that supported his feet against the ground as he dived forward reaching for his brother's hand.

Matthew was in hysterics, thrashing about and panicked tears threatening to spill. He managed to get a hand out of the netting he was kept in and reached forward. Alfred grabbed a handle on the aircraft to stay up. Their hands brushed once, twice, each time having to stretch farther. That's when Alfred got distracted for a split moment, watching a person in a white lab coat inside the aircraft with a dart. When his attention was back on Matthew, he noticed his brother was out cold and his hand was limp.

"No," passed up his throat before he realized what had even happened. "No! Mattie, lil' bro, come on. We need to- need to stay up now! Kay? Mattie!" By the end of his cries, his voice had risen to a considerable volume. Suddenly, there was a pinch in his upper arm, and suddenly the world was fuzzy. There was black on the edge of his vision.

'No, Alfred! You have to stay awake!' But... He was so tired. He felt like there was something important he needed to do, and the feeling was stronger when the last thing he saw was a distinctive white hair and red eyes lift someone all-too-familiar looking in to this... thing and...

God, he was so tired... And so, he slept

Whoaaaah. Longest thing I've written in a while. It was inspired while listening to the Orchestrated Zelda CD that came with Skyward Sword. When I listen to music, scenes come into my head and I fabricate long-winded, epic-adventure-like plots to fit the scenes into. I drew a poster-like picture for it. So then I had to write it.

(But that was in late December. Like, a few days after Christmas. This is how dedicated I am. .)

So this is gonna remind you a lot of an anime, like Bleach or FMAB, because of the way the plot flows. But I hope you all will enjoy anyhow, or that it doesn't hinder your thoughts about reading. I'm planning a lot for this AU!

Also, I won't be updating my other stories until the end of the Summer Camp event on the usxuk page on LiveJournal. It'll be the first time I'm doing anything from that! Wish me luck!

~Hari Sama