After the long battle that had just occurred, the lone Alpha stood over his fallen comrades. He kneeled, and removed their helmets. They were all just as deformed as him, but they were his brothers. He closed their eyelids and said the only words he know how to.

"Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood." He got up, and walked away.

He was injured from the fight, a few bullets and pieces of shrapnel lodged in his left leg. He was clenching the wound as he limped away. As he neared the home of his deceased allies, he felt eyes fall on him. He turned around, and saw a shadow creep out of sight. He drew his machine gun, and entered the home. Unlike his brethren, he carried a belt fed machine gun. He had a backpack that carried thousands of shots, and was always prepared for a fight. The war of the civilian of Rapture was over, but his war never ended. He could hear them in his head, laughing at him. Not all the splicers attacked him, but they were all mocking him behind his back. He didn't care though, he was the only thing he cared about, his brothers dying in the fight earlier.

He sat down, and attempted to dress his wound. He did a poor job, but at least it stopped bleeding. After that, he went out to find a vending machine. His brothers taught him how to rip them open, and take the insides. They were always refilled the next time they went. He found a Circus of Values, and found the correct spot to pry open. He succeeded, and found a bounty of items. He took some 50 cal ammo, a few cans of fruit and meat, and a bottle of Old Harbinger. He was still nervous from the fight, and he thought a drink could help steady his nerves. Again, he felt eyes upon him. He thought it was just his paranoia. Unlike all the other Alphas, he admitted he was paranoid. But it didn't mean he wasn't right about it.

But unknown to the Alpha, he was being followed. His stalkers were a patrol of fresh Big Sisters who had taken a liking to his combat style. Reckless, aggressive, and deadly efficient. As he walked along the emptied streets, the patrol followed hopping from walls. The Alpha began to learn of their presence bit by bit. Rattling, shaking, and communications between the patrols had alerted him to their presence. Being one of the few, half sane Alphas left, he began to run. They still followed, and he ran even faster. Finally, the Alpha got sick of running. He stopped, and drew his machine gun. He prepped it for battle by loading the chain in, and as a habit he had formed, taunted by flicking a switch on the side of his weapon. He began frantically searching for his stalkers, and never found them. He got frustrated, and let out a low pitched shriek.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" He was about to put his weapon away, when one of the freshest Big Sisters let out a return call.

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!" that alerted the Alpha to their location.

He looked up, and saw four orbs hovering above him. Having a rarer plasmid for Alphas, he let out a burst of telekinetic force, which brought all the Big Sisters flying to the ground. As they hit the floor, he aimed carefully, not sure if they were hostile or not. They drew to their feet, and he let out a confused call asking if they were friend or foe.

"Gaaa?"

"Screeee." He seemed to understand them, and put his weapon away.

He began to limp away, and the Big Sisters took notice to it. They also noted that he left a trail of blood as he turned the corner. They all followed, wanting to help him. Even though he didn't know it, most of the teenage girls were already producing pheromones and hormones, making them ticking time bombs. As they followed him, he wondered what they wanted. He was completely unaware of the age of the girls, and knew only one thing. He didn't know them. That was all he knew, so he was very cautious. He was getting weaker, and he had to stop and rest. He found a bar that he had heard a few splicers talk about. He entered it, and was greeted with a cheer. He had no idea who anyone was, or why they were cheering but he didn't care. He just needed to rest. He sat down at an open booth, and the Big Sisters all followed him cautiously. Three of them sat across from him, and one right next to him. He was still confused, but he didn't have time for questions. Even if he could ask them. He had to find a healing station. These old, rusty med kits weren't going to do it for him right now.

After a few minutes, the jukebox stopped and a splicer was hitting it. He was trying to get it to work again, but it wasn't working. The Alpha hopped over the back of the booth, and walked over to the splicer. The splicer stepped out of his way, and the Alpha pulled a panel off the machine. He pulled a few wires, and put them together. The jukebox began playing again.

"Hey, nice work. You ain't that bad tin man. Here, let me buy ya a drink." He walked over to the bar.

The Alpha followed. The man put a 10 dollar bill on the bar.

"Gimme the usual, two of em." The bartender pulled two Old Harbingers out from under the bar. The splicer popped on open and began to drink it.

The Alpha depressurized his helmet, and pulled it off. He slammed it down on the bar, and grabbed the bottle. He snapped the neck off the bottle, and drank it. He emptied it out in a minute, and put his helmet back on. He felt a bit better, and began to walk out of the bar. The Big Sisters noticed him, and chased after him.