III - The Dance Begins

"Try now."

Fernando moved his fingers, slowly and awkwardly. "It certainly feels...weird."

"Your brain needs time to adapt," Winston said.

He yawned. "What's next?"

Winston tossed into a rubbish bin the peel of the banana he had eaten. "We must learn more about this...One."

Not even the time and I've already got work. "Got any ideas?"

"At the moment we have two targets: the first is in London. Just like in King's Row, many omnics dwell beneath the streets. Someone might be able to help us."

Haven't visited London in a long time. "The second?"

"The second is in Venice. There will be a masquerade ball soon, and several representatives of various governments will be there, including military generals and the like."

"All good." Angela finished checking his arm.

Fernando nodded and smiled politely. "Thank you, Señorita." He shifted his eyes to Winston. "So...you want me to go there."

"If the Laughing Fox agrees."

This monkey. "He agrees, he agrees." He stroked his beard. Huh, this wasn't here before. "I'll have to make a quick stop in Granada though."

Winston turned. "Hmm?"

Fernando waved his hands. "Don't take it the wrong way, amigo, but I need them if I am to do this, and...well, they deserve to know that I'm alive."

Winston scratched his chin. "Hmm...fair enough."

"But first," Fernando said, touching his face, "I need to get rid of this damn thing."

Fernando stared at himself in the mirror, his beard longer than he thought, his hair long and messy.

"I look like a vagabundo." He sighed and then nodded to reassure himself. "Don't worry, Fernando, somewhere in that bush is hiding your good old self." He picked up the electric clippers. "Well, better get started."

A whole hour had gone by when Fernando could finally recognise himself in the mirror. He stroked his thin moustache and his clean-shaven jaw and then ran his left hand through his short hair.

"There, Fernando." He extended his arms. "You have returned!" He looked at his robotic arm. "Though not in one whole piece." He exhaled loudly and shook his head.

A moment later he left the bathroom, his mind still not familiar with his own body, his gait not as sure and steady as it had been. I'm glad the hospital at least kept my muscles in shape, otherwise I would've spent the rest of my life eating tapas, and I don't like tapas. "Five years." He grasped his head. "I must be what now? Thirty-one?" Concern washed over him. "How are we going to cram five birthdays into one?" He sat on his bed and slapped his face. Those elders will give my five years worth of cheese, jamónand wine.

"Um, am I interrupting something?"

Fernando lazily lifted his head to face him. "It's nothing." He noticed the guitar. "What's that for?"

Winston leaned the instrument against the wall. "It could help you learn to control your new arm." He went his way. "You leave in a week."

"Splendid." He watched Winston leave and slowly approached the guitar, the songs he knew already playing in his head. His eyes lingered on his arm before he found the courage to pick up the guitar and sit back on his bed. As his fingers were in position he strummed once, the sound low and quiet. Hmm. He chose one of his favourite songs and a plucked a few strings, gradually increasing his speed. Unlike five years ago, there was a certain stiffness preventing him from playing as easily and skilfully as before. Perhaps those days are gone. He resigned himself.

"War...war never ends."

"To hell with that." He resumed playing, faster and faster, each finger plucking a different string. Come on, Fernando.

A red flash and the song ended with a discordant sound. Fernando pursed his lips and his robotic fingers curled into a fist until he gathered his wits and breathed deeply. He put the guitar away and studied his hand, turning it repeatedly. He remembered all the tales his father and grandfather used to tell, all recollections of the tragedy that befell humanity when the Omnic Crisis began. He sighed.

"Well, well, Laughing Fox. Looks like we've got an omnic to catch."

The plane hummed softly.

Fernando stared at the floor in silence, darkness pervading the cabin, most of the light coming from the cockpit. He watched the masked soldier flick several switched and then shifted his eyes back to the floor.

This is going to be difficult to explain. He straightened his back and looked up. I wonder if they're still there. "How long till we get there?"

The masked soldier said nothing.

And I thought we were amigos. "At least they know my taste," he muttered to himself as he looked at his clothes. Guido must've taken those gloves and shoes and my other...tools. "I don't give him enough credit." His eyes went to the cockpit again, the night sky filled with stars. Is...is it him? He rubbed his chin as he studied the soldier. Should I say something? Offer him tapas? If it's truly him, I'm sure we definitely could have an interesting conversation. We both came back from the dead, after all.

"Mr. Mor—"

The plane veered and Fernando held himself to his seat belt, his stomach feeling funny. Through a window he caught glimpse of lights, roads and buildings, both ancient and modern, and immediately recognised Granada. Hogar, dulce hogar.

A voice came from the plane. "Approaching selected landing zone."

Fernando stretched himself. "Finally."

The plane descended into the darkness below. He unfastened his seat belt as the plane slowed down and his eyes lit up as a nearby hatch suddenly opened.

"Until we meet again, amigo." He gave the soldier a two-finger salute who only glanced backwards. Gennaro was definitely more friendly. He leapt out of the plane and landed onto the concrete pavement, his clothes flapping wildly as the plane took to the skies. He dusted himself off and straightened his jacket. "Here we go."

Fernando began his journey through Granada. He found the city unchanged and its countless streets still felt familiar to him, though at times he questioned himself whether he was going the right way or not. This should be the way. He made sure no one was following him and climbed over a wall, his robotic fingers making it feel like a whole new experience. He went across more streets, retreating to the shadows whenever cars drove by. Here? he thought to himself as he climbed another wall and stood in a dark alley. He stepped up to the writing on the wall and slid his hand across it. "Stop watching," he whispered and looked at the manhole beneath him. He took a step back and searched for the tiny camera. "Marco," he said. "It's me, open up."

The manhole didn't budge an inch.

"Eh? Marco, come on." As the manhole didn't open he put his face closer to the camera and pointed at himself. "Whose face is this? Look! I'm no fantasma."

They'll send me to a mental hospital if they see me talking to a manhole.

The manhole opened.

"Aha!" He jumped down, grunting as he landed onto the dusty floor. Good thing this sewer isn't used anymore. Dust would've been the least of my problems. He shivered and rejoiced as he saw the door at the end of the tunnel. Seems like yesterday. "The Laughing Fox is here!" he announced. "Without his mask, but...still here." The door opened and the bear of a man that was Marco appeared. "Marc—"

Marco embraced him, squeezing so tightly that Fernando heard his bones cracking.

"Amigo, I...can't...breathe."

Marco let him go.

"Jesus." Fernando said, panting. "You almost killed me."

Marco nodded behind him and Fernando happily walked inside. Note to self: Avoid physical contact with Marco. He looked around as the door closed behind him. Then his eyes went to his colleagues sitting at the table, not even one of them missing. Cecilia turned, her jaw dropping, and all the others followed suit.

"F-Fernando?" Cecilia said.

Esperanza dropped the tankard she was cleaning, wine poured out of Pablo's mouth at the sight of him and Ricardo's and Bernardo's drinks slipped from their grasps.

He raised his hands in the air. "The one and only."

"Hit me."

Cecilia threw her tankard at Pablo, hitting his forehead, who did nothing but keep staring at Fernando.

"What's going on?" Guido came. "I heard a n—"

Fernando grinned and shrugged as Guido gaped, his skin turning pale. Marco patted him on the back, pushing him forward, thinking that he was being gentle when in reality Fernando's bones were begging for mercy. "Come on, five years and all you do is sta—"

Esperanza vaulted over the counter and charged alongside the rest. Fernado waved repeatedly.

"N-N-N-No, wait! Slow d—"

They all embraced him, pinning him to the ground. "People," he said, struggling to breathe, his face reddening. "I hope those are tears falling on my face...not sweat."

They let go of him, tears streaming down both Cecilia's and Esperanza's eyes. Fernando breathed deeply.

"I can't feel my arm," he said, unable to move. "Ah, right." Marco pulled him up and dusted him off. "Gracias, amigo. Now..."

Cecilia and Esperanza hugged him once more. "We thought we lost you," Cecilia's voice broke.

"I've missed you all too." He hugged them both.

She wiped her eyes and punched him. "Don't you dare do that again!"

He rubbed his arm. "I definitely didn't miss that."

As Cecilia smiled Esperanza stroked his cheek. "I owe you a dance, remember?" Her hand slid across his robotic arm. "Hmm?"

"Ah, sí." He showed them his arm. "I've got a new arm."

"A new arm?" Ricardo said.

Cecilia cleaned her eyes again. "I didn't know the hospital did that."

"Yeah...it's a long st—"

Guido squeezed him.

"Jesus, Guido." He coughed. "You'll send me into a coma again."

"How the hell did you get out?" Guido said as he released him. "And how the hell are you still standing?"

"We were worried sick!" Cecilia said.

"Hmm?"

Guido used his phone, tapping the screen with lightning speed. "Here." He showed him a newspaper article.

Comatose patient vanishes from hospital. Police are currently investigating the mysterious disappearance and are asking for the public's help in locating Alfonso Galileo, 28, of Granada.

"I'm not twenty-eight."

Guido hid his phone away. "Alfonso Galileo is."

"So?" Bernardo said. "How did you get out?"

"Well..." Fernando rubbed his chin. "Let's just say Overwatch lent me a hand."

That surprised them. "Overwatch?" Cecilia frowned. "The organisation no longer exists."

"Yes, about that." Fernando scratched his head. "They are trying to build it back up."

"Who's they?" Guido said.

"Talking monkey, unfriendly soldier, woman with white hair, a happy bunch, really."

"Why would they help you?" Cecilia crossed her arms. "Why even give you a new arm?"

Guido waved his hand. "We'll talk about it later." He faced him. "All I want to know is...what happened back there?"

"That, my friends, is a tale that will need lots and lots of wine."

"It's five in the morning," Cecilia said.

"All the better!"

Guido shook his head, laughing. "Done."

Fernando took a good look at them. "You all haven't changed a bit." His smile faltered. "Seems like I'm the only one who's changed."

"Don't be silly." Esperanza shoved her arm under his. "You're still our Fernando."

"By the way," Fernando said. "What about those terrorists?"

"We cut off all contact with them," Guido replied. "We've been lying low ever since."

"Talon...they're definitely not a happy bunch."

Cecilia tapped Guido's shoulder. "See? I knew it was them!"

"Good thing we got rid of them then." Guido then rubbed his shoulder while Cecilia wasn't looking.

"Don't just stand there," Marco suddenly said. "Make him sit."

Cecilia shoved her arm under Fernando's right one and both her and Esperanza dragged him to the table.

"If I had known that this would've made two beautiful women drag me to a table and drink with me I would've definitely gone into a coma sooner." He laughed.

And Cecilia hit him.

"Jesus."

"Laughing Fox?"

"Someone...or something is here," Fernando heard his own recorded voice.

"How did you find me?" the familiar voice sent a chill down his spine. "Speak at once."

"I think there's a misunderstanding here."

"You're here for the safe."

"Perhaps...perhaps. You're an omnic, aren't you?"

"Yes. Do you know what's in this safe?"

"Documents? Blueprints? Love letters?"

"So you do not know."

The recording went on. "How about you lower that...thing and we sit down and talk?"

"You have seen me. Now you must die."

"Settle down there, amigo! The war ended long ago!"

"War...war never ends."

"Sh—"

The sound of the explosion echoed within the room, Fernando's eyes never moved away from Guido's computer, the screen displaying the jagged lines that had become the sound waves.

"Fernando!"

Fernando's fingers curled into a fist. "Who are you?"

A pause, a subtle sound intensifying, the sound wave on the screen a mere horizontal line. "I am One."

Guido stopped the recording while Fernando squeezed his robotic arm. "You alright?"

"Eh, could be better." He sighed. "Did you manage to find anything about him?"

Guido shook his head. "Nothing about this omnic in particular, unfortunately, but he may be behind some strange occurrences."

Fernando rested his arms on the table as various articles popped up on the screen. "Hmm?"

"Russia," Guido said as he skimmed through them quickly. "Egypt, Japan, England, Korea, Italy, Canada, Hawaii, and now even Spain." He closed his computer. "All involve omnics going rogue."

Fernando straightened his back. "They're all over the world."

"Sounds familiar?"

"The Omnic Crisis."

"Aye," Guido said, "though whether One is behind these events or not I can't tell."

Fernando shrugged. "That's what Overwatch wants to know."

Guido drummed his fingers. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Well, it's a bit like Madrid." Fernando pointed at the newspaper article on the wall. "We risked getting caught or worse, but saved countless lives. It felt good, didn't it?"

"It did, but you could risk your life here, Fernando. Again."

Fernando scratched his head. "True, true, but I am the Laughing Fox for a reason, yes? I couldn't forgive myself if others died at the hands of that crazed omnic. I'm a gentleman, am I not?"

Guido exhaled loudly and clasped his fingers. "What about Overwatch? You sure you trust them?"

"We're both in the same situation and I don't think they have bad intentions. We helped them once already, after all."

"Hmm." Guido nodded. "They're in for a surprise if they trouble us."

"Blackmail!" Fernando threw his hands into the air. "That's my amigo."

"What's the plan?"

"They want me to investigate London first, then I'm off to a ball in Venice."

"You'll need a new arm."

"Eh? But I just got a new arm!"

Guido rose from his chair. "Trust me on this one, you won't regret it."

"Huh."

"Go now, the lot of them want to take you around Granada." He accompanied Fernando out of the room.

Damn, how I've missed this. "Marvellous idea!"

"That was a terrible idea." Fernando struggled to rise from his bed. Where did all that food come from? He recalled the butcher, the elders and all the other people that offered him food and wine. How long did I sleep? He rolled sideways and fell to the floor. ¡Ay, caramba.He faced the ceiling, the wind blowing through a gap in the window and over him, the smell of fresh bread wafting inside his home. He breathed deeply, closed his eyes and smiled. "It's good to be back."

He walked around his house in silence, checking everything within until he was satisfied and got ready. They really kept this house clean, even paid my taxes, he thought to himself. I'll definitely return the favour. Before leaving he stared at himself in the mirror, his robotic arm still somewhat alien to him. He donned a pair of gloves and headed outside.

"Don Leonardo!" He waved after closing the door behind him.

The elder squinted his eyes. "Is that you?"

"Of course it's me!"

Don Leonardo beckoned to him and Fernando happily obliged. He shook the elder's wrinkly hands and sat opposite him, the nearby birds chirping continuously.

"How long has it been?" Don Leonardo asked as he poured coffee into two small cups. "Five years?"

Fernando nodded as he grasped his cup. "Five years, more or less. You have a good memory, Don Leonardo."

"For now." They gently clinked cups together. "Enjoyed your holiday?"

Fernando stopped sipping for a moment. "Could've been better," he said and took another sip, "but I had some rest at least."

The elder smiled. "Resting is for old people like me, not for youngsters like you."

"You're still a young man, Don Leonardo." He sipped some more coffee.

Don Leonardo chuckled. "I wish." He placed his cup on the table. "How are your parents? Still in Iceland?"

"Suppose so." Fernando finished his coffee. "They do love the cold weather there."

"Too cold for my old bones," he said.

Fernando stretched his arms and clasped his hands behind his head. "How have things been here?"

"Could've been better, could've been better." Don Leonardo removed his hat and put it back on. "Humans and omnics aren't getting along very well lately."

Tell me about it.

"After Overwatch disbanded there's only been bad luck." The old man poured more coffee into his cup and offered Fernando some.

Fernando thanked him. "Even here in Granada?"

"Especially here in Granada." Don Leonardo became more serious. "There was an omnic I knew. Digono, he called himself. They found him headless in a skip."

Fernando drank the coffee in one go. "Someone has got to do something."

"Indeed, Fernando, indeed," Don Leonardo said. "Off you go then, I think I've bothered you here long enough."

"Always a pleasure." They shook hands. "Stay healthy."

"Stay safe, my boy."

Fernando waved as he walked away.

"And marry one of those girls!" he heard. "Or both!"

He laughed. "I'll try!" He looked back again as he was far away. Who told him I was on a holiday? Huh.

And again he went across Granada, greeting friends and acquaintances, speeding past those who were sure to offer him food and drinks. One more piece of cheese and my belly will explode.

"Things are getting worse." He stood before whatever was left of an omnic, bits and pieces scattered across the pavement. We should be going forward, not backwards. He shook his head and made his way to the hideout, the manhole opening seconds after he arrived.

"Marco," he said as the door to the tavern opened.

"Guido is waiting for you."

As Marco shut the door Fernando removed his gloves, grabbed a bottle of lemonade and walked towards Guido's room. They're probably still sleeping, he thought of his colleagues.

"Fernando." Guido saw him, the door to his room open. "Sit here, it shouldn't take too long."

Fernando made himself comfortable. "Have you done this other times?"

"My brother," Guido said as he fetched his tools, "lost one of his legs. Made a new one for him."

"That's my amigo." Fernando put the bottle on the table and stared at the arm beside it. "I do like the shiny steel." He looked at his own. "This one is a bit too dark."

"It's much stronger than steel." Guido dropped his tools on the table. "And definitely more useful than that...thing you have."

"Well." Fernando opened the bottle. "Let's get this over with."

"This is a model I know," Guido said as he inspected his arm. "Fairly common, though also fairly expensive. Nothing compared to this." He thrust his thumb over his shoulder.

"How long will it take?"

"Depends...perhaps a few hours."

Perhaps one bottle won't be enough. "My arm is yours. Begin!"

Guido began his work, doing his best to remove Fernando's current arm without causing any damage, his precision equal to that of a heart surgeon. Time flew by and before Fernando knew it there was no more lemonade left. He spent some time looking at the room, contemplating anything that piqued his interest, and then tried his hand at understanding what in the world Guido was doing. Then he dozed off.

"Done."

"Not now, mamá."

"Oi."

Fernando's eyes opened. "W-What?"

"Your arm." Guido backed away. "Take a look."

Fernando covered his mouth as he yawned and straightened his back, moaning as he did so. His eyes widened as he saw his arm. "Holy..."

Guido cleaned his hands with a cloth. "See if you can move it."

Fernando moved each one of his fingers and then opened and closed his hand repeatedly. He rose from his chair and studied his arm.

"Careful," Guido said. "It's not a mere arm."

"Eh?"

"Pay attention now." Guido tapped the screen of his transparent tablet. "This arm has a variety of functions. First, let's start with the index finger." He tapped again. "Your index finger"—Fernando stood watching as the finger changed shape—"can become a lock pick, just like the one you made me repair some time ago."

He still remembers that.

"The hand itself though is the jewel in the crown. It can detach itself"—the hand fell onto the table—"and move on its fingertips," he said, using his tablet to control it. "It also has a tiny microphone that can send back to you anything it hears, should you need to eavesdrop on someone."

"Marvellous!"

The hand flew back into the socket in his arm. "It has thrusters that allow it to be ejected and return back to you."

"Flying punches!" Fernando rejoiced. "But wait, how does it work?"

"It's all in the head."

"I'm not ready for a mental hospital yet."

"Try it." Guido put his tablet away. "You're in full control now."

"Splendid! So...hmm? Why are you wearing that thing?"

Guido adjusted his welding mask. "Trust me."

"Huh." Fernando shifted his eyes to his arm. "So, I just have to think about what I want to do?"

"Yes."

"Here goes nothing." He raised his arm and aimed his fist.

"Come on."

He used his other arm to steady himself. "I'm trying!"

"Concent—"

The fist hurtled through the air, Fernando grinning at first and then grimacing as it flew about the place, knocking to the floor whatever had been on one of the shelves.

"How do I stop it?"

"This is why I'm wearing this mask." Guido ducked.

"Aha!" Fernando extended his arm and the flew back to him, hitting Guido the back of his head before it inserted itself back into its socket.

"Jesus," Guido said, rubbing the pain away. "Perhaps this wasn't a great idea."

Fernando waved. "Nah. I'll get the hang of it, don't worry."

Guido removed his mask and stroked his face. "Anyway, here's some other stuff." He lifted a box and placed it on the table.

"My Siesta!" Fernando tossed into the air the truncheon.

"It's better now," Guido said. "Also much more effective against omnics." He pulled something else out of the box. "EMP, also better."

He studied the device in the palm of his hand. "Won't this affect my arm?"

"Your arm is basically immune to EMPs."

"Wonderful."

"Last but not least..."

Fernando gently grabbed the mask and stared at it in silence. "It's been a while."

Guido put the box away and clasped his hands. "You can still change your mind."

"Too late for that, amigo, the music has already begun." He donned his mask. "And the Laughing Fox is ready to dance."

Notes:

- Small update: Just fixed the formatting at the end of the chapter.

- As I always say, the formatting is better on DeviantART so I suggest you read this there (much easier on the eyes)
- The formatting changed close to the end and I have no idea why. This website is confusing.
- If you spot any mistake or inconsistency let me know.

Suggested Music:

Diablo Rojo - Puss in Boots Soundtrack (the live version by Rodrigo y Gabriela is also pretty good)

Other:

Liked this? Then you may want to take a look at the two novellas I self-published, Mark & Karm and The Dragon's Roar. Both of them can be found on Amazon. My author name is Alexander A. Nastasi.
Any support is truly appreciated.