July 15, 2215 was close, yet the public was unaware of what was really headed their way. The only people who knew were authority figures, the elite, and one messenger short of two best friends.

Morning washed over the wilderness, where that lone messenger, Gilbert, drove with his new team, or rather, partner, since he was only assigned to one person who had also lost his previous team. Gilbert had actually instantly befriended his new co-worker, realizing that their personalities were very alike, and that they had been in similar situations.

He had learned that this man was once part of a five-person team with his lifelong friends, one of which was only a teenager. They had encountered a large group of mutants, and he was the only one to make it out with just minor injuries, even with all of the upgrades and weapons they each had. Everyone else had to be sent to the Center Emergency Hospital, and he was later told that not one of them had made it.

The only thing that Gilbert didn't like about this guy was that he was a former soldier.

An awkward silence fell upon the two as they drove in a small jeep on a path between the Western and Central territories, carrying a metal box containing some kind of new technology. Gilbert found it difficult not to look at every item they were given to transport, being so used to doing so with his friends. In the past few months since they've been gone, more and more rebels had been discovered, but luckily, he wasn't one of them. Soon, it had come down to just him, just like it had been like when he formulated the idea for this whole group. He had debated over recruiting more people, but who could he trust? Maybe his new partner, but he wasn't too sure about him just yet, considering his background.

In the driver's seat, his partner, whose name was Mikkel, turned to him, slowing the jeep until it stopped. "You want to switch? I'm tired." He dramatically yawned for emphasis and stretched his arms and legs outwards.

"Already? It hasn't even been two hours!" Gilbert replied, raising his eyebrows. He smacked an arm away from his face.

Mikkel unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door on his side. "Yeah, but... I may or may not have stayed up all night drinking beer at a bar in Western territory." He shrugged, grinning, and walked to the passenger's side. "I'm not that hungover anymore. Just tired. I only got about an hour and a half of sleep. Please?"

Gilbert smirked at him and said, "Nope! We agreed that we would drive in three hour intervals! This is your own fault!" Mikkel groaned and walked back around the vehicle, hopping back behind the wheel and starting to drive again. "You're lucky you're my friend now. I would have definitely challenged you to a duel over this three months ago." He laughed and sped down the path, sipping the coffee he had in the cupholder to his right. "I would have won, too. I'm unstoppable with these cool armor upgrades I got last year." He tapped one of his mechanical hands.

At first glance, he didn't look like he had much. All anyone could see were his upgraded hands and feet. What they didn't know was that he could instantly cover himself from head to toe in armor, stemming from those hand and foot upgrades. This armor was nearly indestructible, and has saved him countless times. He had explained how it would normally cost a fortune, but he didn't have to pay much as he agreed to be the first person to test this new type of upgrade out. Luckily for him, he's had no problems thus far.

"Hey, what do you think of the King?" Mikkel suddenly asked.

Startled by this question, Gilbert just looked at him with wide eyes and blinked. "What?"

The other turned his head towards him and repeated his question louder. "What do you think of the King? Do you think he's a good guy? I know we're not supposed to talk about him in any way other than in a positive light, but, you know, it's just you and me here. Who cares what we say, right?"

It was rare for anyone to question the King's authority, even if it was when no one else was around to get them in trouble. Most people never even thought about questioning him, being brainwashed into thinking he was some sort of savior or hero. And yet, here was a former soldier and loyal messenger asking about Gilbert's opinion as if they all had a choice in what they thought about him. It was crazy, and Gilbert was all over it.

Excited to finally have a real conversation about their tyrannical ruler for the first time in months, Gilbert jumped at the chance. "He's the least awesome person on the planet! He's controlling, unfair, greedy, and just a really horrible guy. I can't believe my own little brother is a loyal captain in his military. I wish I could just throw him into a pit of mutants and see how he likes it. Everyone works their asses off while he sits and pretty much does nothing! Everybody is so blind, it's insane." He was happy to get that off his chest, but became worried when Mikkel stared at him blankly without saying a word. He was sure he'd turn him in.

But then he smiled. He smiled and pat Gilbert on the shoulder with his metal hand, laughing and turning back around to face the road. "I knew you were a great guy! Finally, someone who agrees with me!" He let out a happy sigh of relief. "I hate that bastard, too. I'd be a waaaaay better king than him! Oh, have you heard of that group of rebels? We should find them and see if we could join 'em! Well, if there are any left."

Gilbert finally made his decision to tell him what he's been wanting to tell him for a while. "Oh, yeah, that won't be too hard." He sighed. Should he really tell him? ...Yes. "Remember how I told you that my team got killed by mutants? They weren't... They were killed by a couple of soldiers—who, by the way, actually knew one of them—because the Western territory found out that they were rebels. I don't know how, but they did, and apparently they never figured me out. I'm the founder, leader, and the last member."

Shock and excitement smacked Mikkel in the face. Hard. So hard that he started asking a million questions per minute. "Woah! That is so cool! Do you have any plans? Are you going to let more people join? How close have you gotten to the King? Have you found out any secret information? Is the King doing anything evil? Do you have a secret hideout? How do you stay so hidden? Do you think you'll ever be caught? Can I join you, please?!"

Gilbert took a second to process all of the questions hurled at him, and then opened his mouth to gladly answer them. "Ja, I do have a few plans, but they're not that ready. I do want to start recruiting more people, and I suppose you're cool enough to be the first. I've walked up to the king and handed him a letter before. Well, handed it to one of his guards, but he was right there, so close enough. I have actually learned about a few secret things, but I'll tell you that later. The King is definitely doing something evil, and I'm going to stop him because I'm awesome! I don't have a secret hideout. And I can stay hidden because, again, I am awesome. Also because I'm so awesome, I'll never get caught. Oh, and if you're going to be the first to join, you'll have to help me find more people."

"Oh my god! I know exactly who we should get first!" Mikkel exclaimed, a big smile still on his face. "We were in the military together before I decided to become a messenger. She's pretty cool. She was the only person to survive the test flights over the wilderness, so she's a trained pilot! I mean, I guess that's a little useless since we're not allowed to fly above the walls anymore. Anyway, she's strong as hell, and pretty hot at the same time. And I know what you're thinking. 'She's a soldier; isn't she loyal to the Center?' Yeah, but I've heard her criticize the King. They do things to soldiers to manipulate their minds, you know? She really tries to fight her loyalty, I can tell."

"Sounds great!" said Gilbert. A feeling of hope began to form. Sure, he wasn't with his best friends, but he might actually have a chance of finishing what they had tried to start. "Man, this is going to be fun. We could totally be...hmm...an awesome trio! The awesome trio of rebels, fighting against the big bad King in the awesomest way possible!"

The two messengers began excitedly throwing ideas and plans back and forth. It became clear that both had been waiting for this opportunity for a very long time. Each voiced idea after idea, building upon each other, connecting two separate plans, or creating completely new ones. They had finally found someone they could trust, and it was the greatest feeling in the world considering the lives they were forced to live. Others didn't understand, and so they were all at least somewhat content. But rebels knew better.

The jeep drove on towards their destination in Central territory, surprisingly without any threats. A scan of their surroundings for a hundred miles in every direction would show that the wilderness was completely empty of any hostile living things. A few small, harmless mutants could be seen every now and then, but ignoring those, the messengers were alone, surprised themselves at this rare occurrence. However, in the wilderness, it was almost impossible for this kind tranquility to last.

Before they knew it, the two men finally reached the first resting area and parked in one of the few spaces in the garage, securing the door afterwards. Then, they entered the building, where they could eat, watch the news, sleep, stock up on needed supplies, and many other things.

After getting themselves settled, they sat in the living room-like area and watched the news. Gilbert, with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, turned to Mikkel, who sat back in a comfortable-looking recliner, nodding off. "So, Mikkel, exactly why did you leave the military? You never specified." When he didn't answer, Gilbert began to throw popcorn at him until he woke up.

Mikkel jolted awake, sputtering out, "What? Huh? I wasn't asleep! Why am I covered in popcorn?" He looked down at the popcorn littering his torso for a moment before he began eating it.

"Suuuure." Gilbert smirked. "Anyway, I asked you a question. Why did you leave the military? I was just wondering since you never really told me." His hand hit the bare bottom of the popcorn bowl, so he shrugged and set it down on a nearby table.

"Oh, right," his companion said, sitting up. "I'd give you a really cool story about that, but I'm tired, so here's the short version. Basically, a couple mutants had gotten into the Northern territory, so I was one of the people ordered to kill them and calm everyone down. Someone threw a grenade too close to the wall, and part of it collapsed. I got hit by falling pieces, suffered some brain damage, got emergency upgrades, and by then I just decided I was done being a soldier. But hey, now I have better vision, coordination, muscle control, and balance, so that's pretty cool!"

The other nodded, amazed. This guy had obviously been through a lot, way more than him, and yet he still behaved like an energetic, happy child 85 percent of the time. Of course, that still didn't make him more awesome than him, but that was impossible, anyway. "Oh, and about that girl you were telling me about, where can we find her?"

Mikkel shrugged, replying with, "Not sure, exactly. Normally the soldiers are either in the Center or patrolling their home territory. I guess we can check the Center first since that's a little closer to Central territory, and then the Western territory when we get the chance. That's where she's from. Her name's Amelia, by the way." He sat back, ready to drift off to sleep again.

"Amelia?" Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the strangely familiar name. As he came to the gradual realization while putting puzzle pieces together, his eyes widened and he shook Mikkel awake again. "You said Amelia, right? Does she have short hair and an arm upgrade with built-in weapons?!" His friend's horrified face flashed in his mind with some of his last words: "Do you not remember me, Amelia?"

Mikkel groaned and sat up again, nodding. "Yeah... Wait, you know her?" He looked at him, confused about why he looked like he had just seen a dead man come to life.

"N-Not really... She... Mein gott..." He tried to speak, but couldn't bring himself to pull together a full sentence. Her smug face was the next thing to flash in his mind, along with her reply to his friend: "You're like a big bro to us," shortly followed by her merciless, "Anyway, don't move. It just makes this complicated." Two blasts. Two bodies collapsing. A laugh.

She laughed.

Mikkel got up from the recliner and sat beside Gilbert on the couch, giving him a concerned look. "You okay?" He put a hand on his shoulder, but he continued to stare into space, utterly terrified, muttering to himself. "Gil? Gilbert?" He waved a hand in front of his face and snapped a couple times, frowning when it didn't work.

She killed them. She can't help us. Why would she? She's loyal to the King and no one else. They're dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead. Blasted away like they didn't even matter. My best friends. Dead. I fucking hate the King's soldiers. I hate them. I hate all of them.

"I'm sorry I gotta do this, I really am."

Then why did you kill them?!

"But it's my job, and I hope you understand."

How can he understand when he's DEAD?!

Dead.

Dead.

Dead...

OW!

"Gilbert!"

Gilbert snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a sharp stinging sensation on his left cheek. He looked up at Mikkel, who stood in front of him, retracting his arm from the hard slap he had just given him. The blonde held an empty water bottle in his other hand, and Gilbert suddenly realized that his own hair and shoulders were wet.

"What's wrong?" his partner asked, visibly worried.

"Amelia, she..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "She killed them. She killed Francis and Antonio. We're not letting her join us." His voice was firm and serious with that last sentence, filled with anger and hate. He stood up and walked to another room, the one with all the beds, and picked the bed furthest toward the back to lay in and pull the covers over his body.

Mikkel followed him, frowning, and stood by his bed as the other turned his back to him. "I didn't know that... Sorry, Gilbert. But I swear, she isn't always like that! Actually, she doesn't usually kill people...I don't know why she would, especially if she knew one of them like you said." He exhaled loudly, sitting on one of the empty beds. "Give her a chance, pleeeaaase?"

"No. Not her."

"But..." He trailed off, deciding to let it go for now. Getting to his feet, he gave Gilbert a pat on the shoulder. "I guess I'll take the first shift," he said to him as he exited the room quietly.

Back in the living room area, Mikkel plopped down on the couch and continued to watch the news kept on a low volume, keeping his blaster safely right beside him. He was just in time to hear an overview of the upcoming news to be reported on.

"Tonight on the King's News: Four messengers were found dead between the Northern and Eastern territories this morning. Was this the work of mutants, or something else? Also tonight, the Center cautions citizens about upgrade dealers. Friendly reminder that getting upgrades installed by unauthorized figures is indeed illegal, punishable by life in prison. And finally, July 15 is just around the corner. We are all excited to learn what new things our King has to announce on this date, and we encourage the public to get new upgrades in celebration of his day."

Too lazy to listen to the details on the stories, Mikkel shut the television off and stretched. It was quiet and cool that night, so he decided to sit outside, reaching into his backpack and grabbing a glossy piece of paper before heading out.

Breathing in the somewhat-fresh air, the man leaned up against the outside wall of the building and slid onto the ground, staring at the paper he held in his hand. It was a picture of five boys ranging from four to eleven in age: a tall, intimidating one standing close to a shorter and more welcoming one, a serious one who seemed to be slightly annoyed and was holding hands with the youngest, and one with a big grin and crazy hair standing right in the middle. All of the boys wore costumes and held wooden swords. Mikkel smiled sadly at the picture from his childhood, remembering the fun times he had with his best friends, who eventually became his messenger team.

The team he let down.

With a heavy sigh, he slipped the picture into his pocket and stared out at the unforgiving wilderness. He knew how Gilbert felt, but he held onto the belief that Amelia could help them. He was still shocked that she was the one he had heard about. She had always talked about how she hated killing people because that wasn't what heroes did, and she definitely saw herself as a hero. Something wasn't right. Heroes didn't just become villains on their own.