"So, when do you plan on telling me your story, partner?"

Caden stopped mid-stride for barely an instant before resuming his normal pace, but Hawk picked it up. The boy looked up at him, arching one eyebrow.

"Partner, huh?"

"If the skills you showed during that last attack were any indication, it's a real possibility."

Caden smiled at the thought as they walked toward the delicious smell of dinner.

…

Next day, morning

NEST regional installation and temporary HQ, 6 miles outside Pheonix, AZ

3 months after the death of the Fallen

Caden rolled out of his temporary bed and planted his bare feet on the cold concrete with a wince. At least they keep the AC going in here, he thought groggily. Better than dealing with this insufferable heat. Striding over to his small suitcase, he pulled out the outfit he'd planned on wearing: a pair of black cargo pants with his customary black nano-shirt. As he pulled the sleeveless top over his bare torso, he felt the familiar sleekness of its seamless fibers. Damn thing's saved my life more times than I can count. Hastily putting on his running shoes, Caden strode out the door at his usual fast pace, covering more distance with leg reach rather than actual rate of step. Five minutes later, he was entering the mess hall, where the scent of homemade cheese omelettes reached his nostrils.

"Ah," he said to no one in particular, "been a while since I've taken that in."

"You and me both, buddy," said a private seated at his right. "We musta done somethin' right for the brass to start breakin' out the good stuff."

Caden furrowed his brow and nodded at the soldier once before getting in line. Wonder where Hawk is. He'll probably want to know about-

"Hey, so, which do you usually go for in your omelette, bacon or corned beef?"

Caden snapped his head to look at the source of the voice, spotting a man about his height, with jet-black hair and blue eyes staring at him from behind with a grin. The spy's eyes widened. Bright blue eyes.

"Hawk," he asked finally, with wide eyes, fully expecting the guy behind him to look at him as if he were crazy.

The man's smile faded to a look of shock and disappointment. "What gave me away?"

"Seriously, I was right?" Drake took the sour face as a yes. "Uh, if I had to guess, I'd say it was the eyes."

"Damn, have to have Ratchet take a closer look at this thing. If I can't even fool a human…"

"To your credit, I have been known to have...shall we say, an acute intuition." Hawk, or the man who claimed to be Hawk, snorted once before crossing his arms in frustration before Caden did another double-take. "Wait, how are you here, and human, for that matter?"

"Holoform," he replied, face still sour. "Projected when we're not in robot mode, or, can be, anyway. Supposed to let us blend in. Psht. So much for that."

Caden arched an eyebrow at him. "Don't think the general populace knows about it, either. If you had to go undercover like this, you probably could without a problem. Although, I'm not sure how far you'd get as a hologram."

"Not hologram," the Autobot corrected, "holoform. We can see, touch, hear everything through our holoforms. It's a like a secondary body for us."

Both of the spy's eyebrows shot up. "That's...some pretty advanced tech."

Hawk snickered. "Talking to a guy that transforms into a sports car?"

The teen shrugged. "Point." Turning back to the front, he moved up in line and opted for the corned beef with his omelette before sitting. He noticed Hawk sit down next to him without a tray. "Right, you don't need to eat. See? Almost forgot you were a bot." Caden flashed him a wry smile.

The Bot rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

The two friends were joined by Major Lennox, who was busy ironing out the specifics of Caden's status with NEST as a consultant, finding out his duties then relaying them to their new teammate.

"So," Caden said after Lennox finished his summary, "basically, I'm benched. Can't go into the field."

"No," Lennox said, slight annoyance seeping into his tone, "that's not what I said. You can be cleared for a combat role, definitely, but Optimus has concerns that being on the front lines might make you a target. Considering how things panned out last time you were in a firefight with Cons, I'm inclined to agree with him."

Caden involuntarily winced in guilt, remembering the names of the soldiers and civilians who died in the line of fire. After he had been granted access to NEST resources and intelligence, the young spy learned everything he could about those who died, as he usually did when someone gave their life for his, trying to understand the kind of people they were and honor their sacrifice by vowing to do better. Some days are good. Others… He shook his head, snapping out of his pessimism and looking at Lennox, who was getting a death stare from Hawk. The major noticed.

"Oh...I'm sorry, I...I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Caden said, cutting him off. "I'm used to dealing with it." The table remained silent, all of them eating except Hawk and not saying a word until breakfast was almost finished.

"So Cade," Hawk said, breaking the silence, "I can call you Cade, right?" He saw the spy nod. "I told you my backstory, and I gave you enough time to mull it all over, I think."

"So," Caden asked with an arched eyebrow.

"So, I showed you mine; show me yours." Hawk drew his eyebrows together in confusion at the strange glances that were pointed in his and Caden's direction. Looking at the spy for help, he just saw the kid shake his head and roll his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing," Lennox answered, giving his men a glance and breaking the stares.

Still confused, Hawk turned back to Caden. "So?"

Drake sighed heavily as he gulped down the last of his omelette. "Fine. But not here." Caden saw the Bot throw him another confused look. "It's private." Hawk's eyebrows shot up high, as if to say, "Wow, that bad?" Pressing his lips together, Caden led the Autobot out of the mess hall after dropping off his tray, making his way to his borrowed room. Entering, he left the door slightly open, and Hawk didn't close it. Caden sat heavily on his bed and let out another long breath as it bounced him in response. "Okay, so...hell, where do I even start?"

"The turning point," Hawk answered immediately. "Works for me."

"Yeah, but, the problem is, I don't exactly know where, or when that was."

Hawk shrugged and sat on a desk in the room. "Then just start at the beginning. I've got a massive attention span."

"Heh, I bet." Drake sighed again, his previous mirth vanishing completely as his face morphed into a mask of sad concentration, a single trace of grief visible even to Hawk's inexperienced optics. "Okay...it all started about...oh, eighteen years ago, when I was born."

Hawk's eyebrows shot up. "You're only eighteen?" Caden nodded. "Damn. None of the soldiers here are anywhere near that young, and from what I've seen, your skills are at least on par, if not greater than theirs. How is that, exactly?"

"I'm about to explain." Caden saw him nod once and press his lips together in focus. "There was this girl...Kara. She was born a few months before I was, and...we met when I was fifteen." The spy paused for a few seconds, becoming lost in a memory for a moment before regaining his focus and continuing.

"My parents, Caden and Alexandra Drake, stole several billion dollars and a highly advanced genetic formula codenamed Achilles that could completely change the genetic makeup and traits of a developing fetus. Raden Jadselit and his secret terrorist organization, the Keystone, had been working to develop it for years, basing their research on two previous projects: Dragon and Amazon, the latter of which he used to enhance Kara when her mother became pregnant. My parents were aware of this, and so took a single viable sample of the treatment, destroying all the rest, along with the project's research data. Three months later, as they entered the second trimester of Alexandra's own pregnancy, the couple injected the fetus with Achilles, giving him increased muscular density, unparalleled hand-eye coordination, improved cellular regeneration, and a host of other genetic modifications meant to create the perfect human-me."

Hawk's eyebrows shot up, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself as Caden continued.

"The former NSA and CIA agents trained me, teaching me everything they knew about their respective tradecrafts. I took in information, tactics, and techniques like a sponge from the moment they started me, at age three no less, preparing me for what you might say was an… inevitable battle against Raden and his legacy, yet not telling me either about that or the reason that I could learn and adapt so quickly. After the Keystone had my parents killed, I went into hiding at age ten and managed to stay one step ahead of them for five years before they finally caught up." He stopped and breathed in deeply, smiling wistfully in remembrance. "The year I met Kara, or, as I knew her back then, Janet. Within three months, she wormed her way into my heart and became my best friend, as well as something more the night she was kidnapped by the Keystone.

"At the time we met, she told me that she had a major case of episodic amnesia, and had no memory whatsoever of her early childhood, just extensive skills in hand-to-hand combat and the basics of espionage. We ran away together after I rescued her, separated, came back together again, and fought the Keystone for months in New York City, picking up two people in witness protection that quickly became like family. When she...'died,' I met the source of my five-year torment, an assassin known only by his Russian codename, Drakon. Drakon explained part of my parents' history, how I'd been the sole product of the Achilles project, and how my Jan was actually named Anne, and was, ironically, the daughter of my parents' arch-enemy. I killed the assassin on the same night, breaking his neck with a single punch after nearly half an hour of non-stop fighting, pushing my Achilles enhancements, of which I was finally aware, to the limit."

Hawk raised another eyebrow, clearly impressed, but remained silent.

"Needless to say, I mourned for her and threw myself into vengeance on them, taking Aria Bensen, the only remaining partner I had, and waging war against my parents' old enemy. After I dismantled a branched-off terrorist organization run by Carmine di Carmello, Ari all but forced me to take a break, seeing just how cold and self-abusing I'd become in my single-minded quest for revenge. I eventually relented and agreed to it, finding out a month later that Janet was actually alive and well by...indirect means. The girl I had watched die was actually a perfect, high-end clone of my friend.

"After my discovery, then seventeen, I took Aria and scoured the world for any information on Jan's whereabouts, eventually leading me to Moscow, where I discovered the Keystone's base of operations and its leader. I also, for the first time in a year and a half, saw Janet, then dubbed Anne Jadselit, her original birth name. She had been informed of her true parentage and taken the opportunity to get close to her father, to try and change him, to save him from the monster that he'd become." Caden shook his head mournfully. "As you might expect, it didn't work. For months, we played a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, Anne trying desperately to find balance and the way to reconcile the parts of herself that loved both me and her father. Eventually, it all came down to what happened nine months ago.

"I had been collecting data and intel on the Keystone's final solution for months, and, just five days before its execution, sent everything he had to the CIA, to the NSA, Interpol, to anyone that could or would do anything about the worldwide initiative known as Obshchego Vraga, which translates to "the Common Enemy." Raden's final plan was to have his forces spread throughout the globe and commit various acts of terror, then have the Keystone take credit for it and cause all the nations of the world to fight against him. By sacrificing a few hundred thousand people, he assumed, the Keystone could unite the people of the world and end the 'petty conflicts' they had been embroiled in since the dawn of civilization."

Caden snorted contemptuously. "Psycho. With the U.S. spearheading worldwide operations against the organization under a temporary international initiative dubbed the 'Joint Task Force,' I went personally to Moscow, omitting the city as the location for the Keystone's headquarters in my communique to the JTF. I confronted Raden in his office near the headquarters' top floor and fought him with everything I had, finding the battle much more difficult due to yet another project brought about by the Keystone. The Russian had used his daughter's chromosomes to reconstitute Project Amazon, jumping his current research forward years and starting on a new iteration: Project Hercules.

"Hercules was designed to be used on a fully grown subject, and, after I almost single-handedly defeated him in a fair fight, the Keystone director used it on himself. This was a fact the Russian was most grateful for, since the very next day, I, following my parents' example, destroyed the Hercules lab, the formula samples, and all of his research data, even getting to several hidden drives that were off the main servers. Understandably angered, Raden sent for Anne and had her meet him in the main headquarters, where I was waiting for him. When I attempted to assassinate the director, Anne stepped in and fought me, our styles different but skills evenly matched.

"Desperate to stop her best friend and former boyfriend from killing her father, Anne tried to talk me down, refusing to fight her hardest, and instead was knocked unconscious after an extended fight. Enraged, Raden tackled me, beating me half senseless before pickin' me up and throwin' me off the second floor of the building. I survived the fall and continued my intel collection on the Keystone. One month later, when the hammer fell and the Joint Task Force stopped Raden's efforts, we fought hard while a conflicted Anne looked on helplessly as the two people she loved the most beat each other to death."

…

9 months ago

Moscow, Russia

"Raden!" The name was screamed out furiously, its release dragged out over the course of three seconds as the speaker stormed toward the office door of the man in question. Finding it open, he entered and stood in the doorway, fists clenched, watching the man on the far side of the 30-yard room, who was looking out the window intently, hands clasped behind his back, body faced away from the young man addressing him. Slowly, he turned his head to face him and spoke.

"Drake," he hissed out with similar fury. Striding up to his desk, the Keystone director keyed on a holoprojector that showed a ghostly, transparent representation of the globe, with several large red dots all over the world. "I take this is your doing," he asked with extra venom, indicating the dots.

Caden smirked with a snarl. "Had a little help, but yeah." Striding toward the director at an angle, the seventeen-year-old spy walked slowly, to give his emphasis to his words and his enemy enough time to understand that it was over. "Sure, CIA, NSA, MI6...they all set off the explosion that's gonna destroy this place-" he waved to figuratively indicate the building and headquarters, "-but I'm the one who gave them the grenade."

"Bastard," Raden hissed out again. "You've destroyed the only chance for unification in the world."

Caden laughed derisively. "You. Idiot. Did you really think that hundreds, thousands of years of gripes would suddenly vanish overnight? Under any circumstances?" He laughed again, making the fire in Raden's eyes burn even hotter. "That's just rich."

"Nothing unites like a common enemy," the older man defended.

"Maybe, for a little while, but humans are stubborn, and the one thing they tend to hold onto more than almost anything is hate." Caden gave him a pointed look with narrowed eyes and slightly flared nostrils. "I would know. You may have had a day of unity, a week at most, and then the people of this world would've gone right back to killing each other, over money, pride, revenge, bigotry." He leaned toward the director, hands braced on either side of his desk. "And nothing would have changed."

Raden snarled viciously before turning back to the window. "You've ruined…everything." His head snapped back in the boy's direction, anger twisting his features. "Everything!" The director stormed back to his desk and slammed his fists down. "You've taken my daughter's love, my research, my plan…" He looked down in grief before adding, "My son."

Drake's eyes widened. "Son? I...killed your son?"

Raden's cold gray eyes met his. "Yes, you did. Two years ago. In New York."

Caden's eyes narrowed in concentration at who he could possibly mean before his expression changed dramatically and it all hit him like a freight train. "Drakon." The subtle change in Raden's face was enough to let him know he was right. "The Dragon...was your son?"

"Not...technically, no." Raden turned away, grief and rage warring for control in his features. "He was my clone. The Dragon Project was my first iteration of physiological enhancements, and we used my DNA as the test sample. Rapidly grown. What would normally take nine months in the womb of a woman took mere weeks. He...he looked just like me."

Thinking to himself, recalling the Dragon's face with his photographic memory, he admitted to himself that he could see the similarities, though the assassin's "father" looked far older and harder. End results of leading the life of a murderer, I suppose. Since Drakon had been raised by him, he suspected he didn't think anything wrong about what he did. Looking at the man responsible for the deaths of his parents, of countless innocents, of Aria's parents… He shook his head slightly before staring at the director's back. I almost pity him. His teeth clenched slightly. Almost.

"Yes," Caden said, his voice surprisingly even given his train of thought, but still more gravelly than normal, "he did. Can't believe I never made the connection. Not something I usually miss." Raden shot him a glare and kept it up, but Caden's face remained impassive and he kept his stare without flinching. Without breaking his gaze, Raden spoke again.

"It doesn't matter now. Because he's dead." He gave another long pause, nostrils flaring slightly. "By your hand."

The words sent a familiar pinch through Caden's system, and he turned around and paced away at hearing his own words to Raden's 'son' almost two years before when the topic of his parents came up.

"Why not just destroy both the data and all the formula?"

"They knew about Anne. About what she would be able to do when she got older. Because of that, even they had cause to fear her."

"They why not just kill her and eliminate the risk?"

The assassin rolled his eyes at him. "Because, unlike you, they weren't murderers." Caden's face twitched. "Killing the yet-unborn child would have involved harming the mother, an uninvolved woman my employer essentially used as an incubator."

"I guess none of that matters now. They're all dead because of you."

Against his judgement, guilt started to seep into Caden's veins. I've done no less to cause this man pain than he has to me. So what's the difference between us? Meeting his eyes again, he saw the man staring at him with an almost imperceptible smirk and glanced at the holographic display again, noting the red dots with purpose. That's the difference.

"The people I've killed," the boy said finally, "the lives I've ended...whether they ended with clean deaths or not, they were all...evil." Caden saw Raden's mouth twitch at the word as the younger spy started striding back around the desk to his side, slowly, with purpose. "What you've done-is evil." He pointed at the display sharply "What you planned to do-was evil." Facing the director with nothing between them, a mere four feet away, he scowled and started another tense staring contest. "There's just no comparison."

Raden's gray eyes bore holes into Caden's dark brown ones as the two of them just seemed to stare at each other, completely immobile to any onlookers. Contrary to their physical appearance, both of their minds were running a million miles a minute, sizing each other up in anticipation for the inevitable fight. Setting his face, the Keystone director finally broke the silence.

"Then we have nothing more to discuss."

Immediately, Raden went for the P90 under his desk, but Caden was expecting the move, and lunged forward, kicking his hand away from the gun and following with a right cross that his opponent ducked and countered with a thrusted right elbow. The blow knocked him back slightly, Raden's now-enhanced strength giving extra force to his attacks on top of his previously considerable physique. Drake withdrew a bit more before spinning clockwise and delivering a powerful left roundhouse kick to the desk after his first rotation, causing the oak desk to glide several feet across the polished wooden floor of the office before resuming his engagement.

Going on the offensive, Caden leapt into the air and delivered a flying right cross to Raden's jaw before staggering back against the impact of the director's left knee and narrowly jerking his head out of the range of a right hook. As they fought across the spacious room, Caden noted that the director's style was strong, favoring aggression and brute force over tact, but with its own flow and grace as Raden seamlessly transitioned from attack to defense to counterattack and back again. Every time Caden lunged forward, Raden pushed him back with superior strength, leading the younger and less experienced spy to adapt his environment to his needs.

Rushing for the desk, he leapt horizontally over it, right hand grabbing a ballpoint pen from a caddy as he fell and rolled, knocking it over and scattering its contents as he uncapped his makeshift weapon. Raden kept eyeing the desk, and he knew the director was waiting for him to go for the gun. He wouldn't. No, Jadselit. After all this time, all this pain and heartache, I'm not going to end it so easily. I'm going to prove I'm better than you. Body, mind, and morals. Caden strode closer to him again, striking a defensive stance despite his weapon advantage. He held the pen underhandedly, favoring this position due to versatility and striking with his unarmed left hand.

Raden parried the jab easily, almost expecting it, and delivered a 360 roundhouse kick aimed at Caden's midsection. The spy shifted backward six inches, feeling the wind rush off his opponent's limb before he moved back in. Landing a solid push-kick on Raden's left hip, he lunged forward and drove a right uppercut into his lower ribs, then flipped the pen to an overhand position and brought the tip to bear on his neck with blinding speed. The director caught his rising wrist just as fast, the tip three inches from its target as Caden struggled to free his arm from Raden's iron grip.

Snarling in contempt, Raden drew the spy's right arm to the side, then head-butted him solidly, kicking him back and off his feet. Caden recovered mid-air, driving his hands backward and cushioning himself with a backward roll. Raden took advantage of the temporary vulnerability and tackled his shorter opponent into the air, right hand on his throat, left keeping the pen well out of reach as he shoved him roughly against a nearby wall, hand constricting around the spy's windpipe.

"Father, stop!"

Caden's eyes glanced behind Raden's head at the voice, flashing an emotion between shock and relief. The director's grip didn't relax.

"Look away, Anne!" he shouted to her. "I don't want you to see this."

"Father, please!"

He turned his head to look at her. "I said go!"

Caden took advantage of the momentary distraction to drop the pen from his right hand and use his left hand to catch it underhandedly, stabbing it into the bicep of the hand strangling him. Raden roared in pain and rage, releasing his neck and hand as he withdrew and used his left hand to try and get the weapon out of his arm. The boy gasped for air, having almost passed out, and hesitated only a second before leaping four feet into the air and driving both elbows downward into his opponent's shoulders. This elicited a yell from Raden, but not much else, and the younger man's eyes widened at the absence of bone-cracking snaps.

Despite the intense pain he must have been feeling, as well as the significant blood flow in his right arm, Raden slugged the shocked spy in the jaw with a right cross, snapping him back and charging forward again to take advantage of his weakness. Caden rolled away, twisting out of his reach and withdrawing to another side of the room, barely sparing a glance at Anne. Still growling, the director took the reprieve as an opportunity to yank the pen out of his arm and toss it aside. Both of them breathing heavily, neither made a move against the other, the fifteen-foot distance keeping them from making any sudden moves.

"Please," Anne said desperately, "stop this. We can find a way to-"

"Net, dorogoy. He is set in his ways." Raden, like his opponent, didn't spare a look at his daughter.

"As are you," Caden snarled back. "He's beyond saving, Anne. Why can't you see that?"

"And why can't you see what I'm trying to do," the director asked angrily, abandoning his stance. "Why must we kill each other like the rabble out there?" He waved vaguely toward the windows. "I started this organization to fix the world."

"And that, that is the arrogance of man. Hubris." Caden shook his head. "You think you're the first man to try and fix the effects of 'original sin'?"

"No, but I am greater than they were. Superior."

Caden scoffed. "Superior? Only in your mind and body. Your soul is empty and heartless. You have no honor."

"And what has your vaunted honor earned you? A life of pain and loss, of grief, of loneliness? You have the power to change the world, Caden. You shouldn't be fighting me, you should be helping me! Like she is!" He motioned to his daughter, drawing Caden's gaze to the six-foot brunette in earnest. The look of pure grief on her face, of conflict, was almost enough to shatter the boy's resolve to see this through. But, if she hasn't interfered...physically…

Caden turned back to her father. "Is she? Has she really been helping you all these months?"

He nodded solemnly. "She's made me a better man. In time, even a good one."

Caden shook his head slowly, almost despairingly. "Not good enough. Not now. We may have been subjected to the same process, the same basic genetic treatment, but we aren't the same. Our actions dictate our worth, not our genes or power."

"So let me help you do something with your gift. Something more than chasing dust and shadows across the globe. Instead of hiding from the world, from humanity, you could rule them. Make the world as you wanted it. You have far more years left in you than me, even with Hercules. We could see our great planet restored to its condition of utopia within a generation of us. You love my daughter. It only makes sense that we join forces." Raden erroneously took Caden's gaping expression as a sign that he was actually considering his offer. "You are a man of faith, are you not?"

Looking at him strangely at the sudden change in topic, Caden answered warily. "I am, though it's been shaken in recent memory."

"In the Revelations of the Bible, God cleanses the world in fire, killing more than half the population so that those who are left can restore the Earth. More than half. What I was trying to do was much smaller scale, and would have achieved the same results."

Caden half-wanted to stare at him agape, but instead found his features twisted in disgust. "First off, it's Revelation, singular, and second-" He gave a disgusted exhale. "Second, you are not a god. You're not even a man. You're a psycho, a murderer… a monster." Raden's previous hopeful glint vanished at Caden's words. The spy raised his left hand and pointed his index finger at him firmly, his other fingers clenched. "And I am going to stop you." The two enhanced spies charged at each other, bellowing furiously as Anne vainly tried to shout them to a stop.

They tangled furiously, Caden leaping into a flying knee as they approached one another, bowling over the director and rolling on impact with the ground, spinning to face his enemy as the director was already recovering. They grappled, arms locked around one another, trying to find an advantage, some form of leverage to throw the other off. Raden overrode Caden's grip momentarily, getting him into a clinch and hammering away with knees that the shorter teen had to use both hands to stop. Grabbing the underside of an incoming leg, Caden pushed forward, tackling the director to the ground and pounding on him relentlessly, all technique tossed aside in favor of sheer brutality.

Raden grasped him by the throat suddenly and threw him off, only staggering him briefly, as the spy rolled away and regained his footing to reengage him. A flying sidekick from Caden landed directly on his sternum, forcing him back a few steps but otherwise dealing minor damage. They pounded each other relentlessly, nearly all manner of defense abandoned, neither of them caring about the pain, the injuries, the bruises and cuts that were inflicted, the desperate sobs of the girl in the background. Caden tackled Anne's father over his desk and pinned him to the floor, hands wrapped around his neck until the man under him retrieved another pen from the fallen caddy with his left hand and thrust it into his lower ribs.

Yelling in pain, Caden recoiled and was pushed off with a strong palm heel to his solar plexus. Struggling to his feet, the younger fighter barely managed to keep his hands up as Raden laid blow after blow into him, occasionally stabbing his arm or leg with the pen still in his hand. Ducking under a lunge, Caden used his momentum to add force to an elbow, cracking a few ribs for sure and spinning behind his opponent, twisting the outstretched arm at a painful angle and kicking out Raden's left knee. The director growled in pain and thrust the pen backward as he fell, shoving the tip into Caden's left forearm. Drake withdrew before he could get in another hit and crescent-kicked the exposed shaft of the pen, shattering it before driving a hook kick into Raden's jaw.

The director staggered slightly before shoving himself backward on his right leg, crashing his much larger bulk into his opponent. Caden was ready for the move and kept his footing, moving away to catch his breath as Raden got to his feet. Both of them paced in a circle, Caden bleeding from multiple locations, some of the cuts already clotting and scabbing up thanks to Achilles, the same for Raden thanks to Hercules. Their movements were stiff, their response times sluggish, Raden favoring his right leg. A few glancing blows were exchanged before they both withdrew again. Both were breathing heavily.

"You're right, you know. I've taken a lot from you," Caden said heavily, thinking back to the start of their confrontation. "As you have from me. But your daughter… I never took your daughter. She came to me…of her own accord."

"Only because she lost her memory," Raden bit back acerbically.

"And that's my point." Caden saw him narrow his eyes questioningly. "She lost her memory because you didn't take the time to find out if there were any side effects. To verify the benefits and figure out the risks."

"That would have taken another ten years...and would you really have wanted me to make another child go through that?"

"I would have preferred you mothball the whole damn thing!" Caden yelled before breathing for a moment or two to compose himself. "But you didn't. And she paid the price. We all paid the price. And now I have to fix your mistake."

"My mistake," the director asked with a smirk. "My mistake? Without my mistake, you wouldn't be here. Your parents would never have had you if they didn't have a threat that needed handling, and even if they had, you, along with them, would have died long before this moment." He snarled viciously as Caden looked at him murderously. "I created you."

The young man just shook his head. "You didn't create me. Caden and Alexandra Drake did." He rushed forward suddenly, and with a strength Raden didn't know possible, picked up the Keystone director with both hands, spinning and throwing him six feet into his desk before he could react. "And you spit on their graves saying otherwise. My parents loved me because they saw me as not just their victory, but their future." He looked at Anne, whose eyes were still running and face was still twisted in pain. "Family is more than blood." He turned back to his recovering opponent. "And you never understood that."

"There's nothing to understand," Raden growled out painfully, rising to his feet after hitting the desk chest-first. "Your family ends today, with you. Blood or no blood, you have no one left."

Caden's mouth opened slightly and his heart felt as if it were pierced. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was right. No parents, no siblings. He looked at Anne longingly. No friends. His gaze drifted downward in defeat, and despair gripped him as it never had before. So close...and I can't even find a reason to go on. He barely registered the approaching footsteps as Raden put the barrel of his P90 to the young spy's head.

"Otets!" a desperate female voice screamed from behind Caden, causing Raden's hand to waver over the trigger. When it started to squeeze again, he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Annie, but this is for the best." He still hesitated, and that last-second hesitation cost him.

Caden's right hand snapped to the wrist holding the gun, shifting the barrel at a wall as his left hit the mag release and pushed the slide back, pulling it forward and off the gun, effectively disarming him before he shoved what was left of the pistol into his face. Caden staggered backward at the blow and rolled away, running for another wall with his opponent in hot pursuit. As he came to the wall, Raden caught up, driving a haymaker toward where his kidney was.

Or should have been.

As his running body reached the vertical surface, Caden ran up it and flipped backward, his right foot spinning perpendicular to the ground and driving straight into Raden's head as he fell back to the ground. The blow stunned the director, and he took advantage to lock his right arm with Raden's left, cartwheeling his body over his opponent's near-horizontal back and using the momentum to flip him over, throwing him several feet away.

"Caden!"

He snapped his head around at Anne's voice, no longer the grief-struck wreck it was before, now determined, almost fierce. And he saw it. Flying through the air was a silver-and-black object that he knew all too well. Seeing Raden get to his feet and start lunging at him in his peripheral vision, he rolled away, tracking the object's trajectory to come up where it would land. Raden adjusted his course and ran for Caden again, his body between Caden's and a tall glass window just fifteen feet behind him. As the younger spy got to his feet, he saw the object of his salvation and reached up to grab it, the tip of his index finger hitting the front of the hilt and his body's counterclockwise spin rotating it within a split-second midair, facing it forward and allowing him to catch the back of the hilt with the palm of his hand, his finger fitting easily into the trigger-guard as his thumb hit the safety.

Leveling a loaded .45 caliber pistol at Raden's chest.

Their eyes met, and only a stare of grievous understanding passed between them before Caden squeezed the trigger. Raden staggered back with the impact, pressing his hand to the wound and drawing it away bloody as if to confirm that he was still mortal. Why don't I prove it to you, you son of a bitch?! Caden snarled slightly and fired again, shoving him back a few more feet before unloading another bullet, striding toward him confidently, angrily as a roar built in his chest. The rage burned inside him, rage at the Keystone, at himself, at the man standing before him as he unloaded three more shots, driving Raden Jadselit, his enemy, his parents' enemy, his best friend's father, within a foot of the window.

Casting the pistol aside, Caden roared in fury and sprinted at the mortally wounded terrorist, landing on his left foot to deliver a single heel kick to his sternum, knocking him back with the force of a 45 mph car-right through the window. The whole world seemed to slow to a crawl as the young spy, orphaned and alone, watched the object of his long-time hatred fall forty stories to his instantaneous death. He was too high up to hear the sickening crack of bones at the impact, but Caden could have sworn he heard thunder at the exact moment of his passing. He took in a ragged breath, more in relief than pain, despite his extensive injuries, and turned to see Anne looking on, arms crossed, eyes red and running over.

He awkwardly strode over to her, an expression of pity and even guilt on his face at the emotional state she was in.

"Anne," he said raggedly, almost whispering. "I'm...so sorry." He meant it.

And she saw.

Anne Jadselit, once Janet Daniels, his best friend and girlfriend, the only girl he'd ever loved, wrapped her arms around his neck and cried earnestly, releasing every tear and scrap of emotion she'd been holding back since they'd first seen each other again.

"No, Cade. I'm sorry. For not seeing. For-for not wanting to see."

Even without proper explanation, he knew exactly what she meant. "I forgive you. Family is more than blood...but blood is still family. And sometimes, you just can't let that go." As he held her close and allowed himself to share her grief, he felt his previous despair and loneliness start to melt away. Raden said I was alone, and I believed him. After everything he'd done to hurt me, I believed him. After a minute or two, she drew away slightly, arms still wrapped around his neck, and looked into his dark eyes, hers still red.

"I forgive you too. No matter what." Closing her eyes and holding him closer, she pressed her lips against his for the first time in nearly two years.

And he didn't pull away.

No matter how much his mind or sensibilities told him belatedly that it wasn't the time or place, he couldn't deny her this. Couldn't deny himself this. Then, more than ever before, he felt relieved. More, for the first time in years, seven years, to be exact, he felt...at peace. With himself and the world.

So he just stopped fighting.

…

Present

NEST regional installation and temporary HQ, 6 miles outside Pheonix, AZ

Caden ended his story just after 1:00, and turned to Hawk's still-attentive holoform, who was staring at him intently and seemed to get the picture when Caden just stopped talking.

"Hell of a story," was all the Bot could say.

"All true."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Leaning back against Caden's desk again, Hawk stared off into the distance. "So what happened to the rest of the Keystone?"

The eighteen-year-old breathed in deeply. "Well, once they found out their boss was dead, ownership of the organization went to his daughter. She let whoever was left know that she wouldn't turn them in...yet, and informed them that as of that night, all Keystone operations worldwide were to cease and all operatives return to headquarters. She also changed her name to Kara Bensen."

"Wait, Bensen. Isn't that…"

"Aria Bensen's surname? Yeah," Caden responded with a nod. "During the time we lived together in New York, the two of them became like sisters. After what happened to Ari's biological sister…" He shook his head slightly. "Let's just say I don't blame her. And she couldn't have picked better family."

"So what happened next?"

"Well...I spent the next week with her. Literally. We barely left each other's side."

"Sounds serious."

Caden nodded. "It was. Is." He sighed. "It's complicated. We never did uh...you know." Hawk looked at him quizzically. "You know. No?" The Bot shook his head. "Well, for the best probably. Anyway, a few days in, she told me she was taking control of the Keystone to right her father's wrongs by dismantling any previous Keystone operations who either didn't go down with the JTF's efforts or refused to follow her orders. Basically turn them from international assassins and criminals into a counter-terrorist group. I disagreed, things got a little tense, and...I decided to leave. I just...needed some space from it all."

"You weren't at all worried that she might instead take up her father's torch?"

"I did, at first, but when I saw the look in her eyes, the guilt...I don't know. I guess I just instinctively knew that she'd learned his lesson." Caden stared at the floor longingly and sighed. "I still love her."

Hawk nodded in understanding. "I know. I can tell. It's the same with Cybertronians. When we find someone like that, we have a hard time letting go, and if there's really no reason to...then we don't. Sometimes even in death."

Caden arched an eyebrow at him before nodding solemnly. "I can definitely understand that."

They sat there for a few more minutes, lost in their own thoughts, before Hawk spoke up. "Hey, come on. Somethin' I want to show you."

Caden obediently stood and followed the holoform to a familiar Lamborghini, sitting in the driver's seat but letting him take the controls as his holoform vanished. They drove for barely a minute before reaching another hangar, this one slightly longer than the rest. As Caden dismounted, Hawk transformed and strode toward the far end, and a blue Autobot with spiky white...hair, for lack of a better description. Mechanical hair. Caden shrugged. Guess it's not entirely preposterous.

"Hey Que!" Hawk called loudly enough for the focused Bot to hear. The Autobot addressed as Que turned sharply, a monocle-like lense over his right eye from examining something comparatively minute and obviously sensitive.

"Ah," he said to Hawk courteously, "good. You've finally arrived." Looking down at Hawk's left, the Scottish-sounding Bot smiled warmly. "And brought the man himself. Excellent." Caden looked at Hawk questioningly.

"Long story. Better if I just show you." The steel-gray Bot motioned to Que, and he reached over to the Cybertronian-sized table he was working on, gingerly lifting two of its contents and handing them to Hawk. He, in turn, crouched down and opened his hand, offering them to Caden.

Looking down into the metal palm, what he saw astonished him. "Hawk, that's...my Daggertail. And my Sig." He picked up the items in question, tucking the pistol in the back of his pants so he could heft the rifle two-handed.

"Yep," his metal friend responded. "I had Que here add some stabilizing components we use in our own weapons. Add that to the foregrip and custom stock, and it should barely kick when you're firing it normally. Same for your pistol."

Caden mouthed "wow" to him, eyes still glued to the rifle before he noticed some differences along the length of the barrel, and thought more deeply about what Hawk had just said. "Wait...firing it 'normally'?"

Hawk gave him a feral grin before explaining. "There's now a secondary fire mode on both weapons that kicks in a little invention by Que here."

"It's called a magnetic accelerator, laddie," the inventor said. "I won't bore you with all the technical details, but essentially-"

"It used concentrated magnetic fields to accelerate projectiles to massive speeds," the human finished for him. He looked up at the sudden silence to find both of them staring at him. "What? I play Halo. I know what a MAC does."

Hawk arched an eyebrow in confusion, but didn't ask further. "Anyway, it's the same tech I use in my gauss pistols," he said, patting his hips for emphasis. "Should give you a considerable edge against any Cons you might face in the field."

"Huh...thanks."

"You're welcome. And see? You won't be sidelined, but you also won't be just another soldier, either."

Caden admired the new features of his weapons for another minute or so before furrowing his brow. "Why are you doing all this for me? What's with the weapons and special treatment? I doubt any of the other soldiers have this kind of tech."

Hawk exchanged a look with Que before explaining. "It's Optimus. He used your PDA to monitor your fight in Pheonix, with the Combaticon. It's how I knew where to find you." Caden's face flashed in realization. "Anyway...he saw what you did. What you were able to do at close range. From what you've told me about your skills and abilities, you can do things that none of these soldiers can. Prime figures that if we equip you well, not only will you have a better chance of staying alive in the field, but you'll do a helluva lot more damage." Hawk fidgeted nervously before adding, "Besides...as much as I respect the others, I think you're the one I trust the most."

Caden arched an eyebrow. "Why? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but how does that make any sense? After all, our first meeting involved me fleeing from a bunch of your friends and you sticking a big-ass gun in my face."

"And killing your car," Hawk added glibly.

"And killing my car," Caden agreed, barely restraining a smile. "So?"

Hawk shrugged. "I don't know. Guess it's just…" He thought for a moment before smirking. "Intuition."

Caden finally let out a laugh, and Hawk joined him.

"Oh," he said suddenly, as if he'd forgotten something, "almost slipped my mind. There's one more piece of equipment I'd like you to have. Que."

"Ah, of course, laddie. Can't forget this one. One of a kind, that is." The genius Bot was referring to a foot-long silver metal object with some kind of black polymer wrapped around one end. As Hawk lowered his hand to give his final gift to Caden, the spy's eyes widened and he gave out a small gasp.

"Oh. My. Gosh." Reaching out, Caden gripped the polymer end and lifted it, marveling at the lightness of it. He was holding a knife with an eight-inch blade, impossibly sharp on the entirety of one edge, and of the same sharpness about a third of the blade from the tip down on the backside.

"It's a Cybertanium knife," Hawk explained. "One of the rarest and hardest metals known on Cybertron. Very nearly indestructible."

Caden's eyes widened further as they met his optics. "Hawk, I-I don't know what to say. This is...man it's amazing." He gave it a few experimental swings, still amazed that something metallic of that size could be so light when Hawk snapped his swords from his arms.

"It's what these are made of," the Bot added with a smug grin, "so it better be."

Looking up, Caden saw what looked like a notch in his left-hand blade and initially passed it off as a piece that broke off during regular use. But wait, he said Cybertanium was nearly indestructible, so it couldn't have, unless…

"Hawk, no," Drake said in realization, holding up the knife. "You took a piece of your sword to make this?" His Autobot friend nodded, still smiling. "I-I can't accept this."

"Oh please. I've gotten by with more than just a notch in my blades, and besides...it might come in handy someday." Caden was about to open his mouth to protest further, but Hawk stopped him. "It's a gift, partner. Free and sincere." He nodded toward the blade. "Keep it."

Finally relenting, Caden broke into a smile and looked at the shining blade. "Thank you." His smile went wider as his eyes met Hawk's optics. "Partner."

AN: Please review and recommend, as always. Next chapter will begin the real action, now that the background for both OCs is done.

Translations:

Russian:

Net, dorogoy - No, sweetheart

Otets! - Father!

Musical Inspirations:

Far Cry 3 - Far Cry 3: Raden vs. Caden, 4:25 - first shot, 4:46 - Raden's fall