Part of love was the ache of enduring grief.

In death, Caesar had taken with him what felt like the last remnants of a life Rex couldn't fully remember, fragmented memories he'd only been clinging to through his brother. Now, they were made into jagged shards, untouchable without first splintering himself. Caesar had died but so had pieces of Rex.

For him, time had been suspended within the silver walls of his prison. He ceased trying to count the days that crawled by. Providence wasn't coming for him, that was a fact he needed to get used to. In the course of having their organization disbanded, their property would likely be seized. Couple that with the fact that not even he knew where they'd hidden him, and the odds were left unfairly stacked against their favor.

Selfishly, so very selfishly, the boy began to regret curing the world. Spite had little to do with it. It was not resentment at the lack of gratitude he received, but the price which turned out to be more than he wanted to pay. It costed Rex everything he had from friends, to family, and now his freedom too. The world had been saved. What did it say of him that he wished it hadn't been?

Nothing good probably.

'And… continue being good.'

Rex scoffed at the ceiling. What was that even supposed to mean? The request was such a funny one coming from Caesar of all people. What did he know about good? They had an entire panel of judges who seemed to believe that neither of them had a strong grasp of what constituted right and wrong. So he couldn't exactly be blamed for having bittered sentiments.

What choice do I have but to be good anymore?

He didn't get choices. That was gone, taken from him by his former self's doing.

A new hatred for Quarry festered within him, but he couldn't say that the man hadn't received what had been coming to him. As an EVO, the crime boss had been reduced to bits of shattered rock. After the cure, he couldn't have survived as chunks flesh and bone when returned to his human state. It gave Rex some satisfaction, some comfort to know that he had suffered up until the moment of his death. He just wished that he could remember his reasons for having obeyed the man in the first place. If he knew, then perhaps he could tell them…

What? What would he tell them?

The lights of his cell were shut off for the night.

Rex did not move.

He sent whispers to distant loved ones, like prayers nearly, as though they were there before him. As though they could hear any word of it. He didn't move when the lights flickered back on, nor did he stir when food was delivered, or when he was commanded to get up. He was still as the The Nanite Event faded from the minds of the people, becoming only but a nightmare of the past.

Time left him locked him in one still moment. A ghost, always there, always awaiting people who would never come for him. Eventually, he didn't open his eyes at all.

Thus, 1095 days passed by.


Rex was roused from his sleep by the urgency in a rough shake he received from a prison guard. His eyes slowly opened, gaze falling on the man who had jostled him to consciousness.

The man was not wearing his helmet or his armor. He still wore a vest and alarm written starkly across his face, sheened with nervous sweat. A rifle was strapped to his back, two additional guns holstered at his sides.

"Fucking move it." The guard hissed, "I've been assigned to move you to a new facility. Wake up. Wake the fuck up!"

His cursing was really, really irritating.

Rex sat up, black spots filling his vision before everything became clearer as the blood rushed from his head. He wasn't given that much time to get properly orientated, jerked to his feet at once.

"I said move."

"Let go..." Rex mumbled, halfheartedly tugging his arm back. His hair was… longer. Shaggy and untamed, it tickled the sides of his neck. He was unable to sort through his confusion, pushed forward into moving.

"Then get walking!"

Rex stumbled forward on awkwardly unsteady legs. His coordination was bad. He didn't know what was happening, what was going on, or why they were rushing him out of the building. All he did know was that as soon as he was out those doors, touched by the air of the cool night, he nearly fell to his knees.

Awestruck, he tilted his head back, blinking dumbfoundedly.

"Are you stupid or what? Get in the van." His guard nudged him forward, looking over his own shoulder. Rex got into the vehicle without much of a fight. His head was much too cloudy for that, trying to catch up with the rest of himself. He performed the actions commanded of him, but felt that he was simply a watching passenger within his own body.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked, passively staring out of the window as the vehicle kicked into gear. The scenery flew by, vineyards and trees bathed in milky white under the pale moon. Rex wanted to soar beneath its light too. He could vaguely remember having flown once, distantly like some sort of faraway dream.

"Don't ask questions. Just sit there and shut it."

Rex narrowed his eyes. The numbness in his head was slowly ebbing, a spark of energy jump starting him into a state of wakefulness.

"What's your problem?" He spat at the guard, "You don't think I notice you shaking like a freaking chihuahua? You're scared. "

The guard tensed, still trying to mask his skittishness with machismo.

"What happened?" Rex prodded for information, "What are you so scared of?"

"I said shut it, EVO!"

Rex's teeth gnashed together, and he was going to say something scathing when it stopped just at the tip of his tongue. He and the guard were running from something.

Someone more likely.

A surge of excitement made the night seem brighter somehow. It had to be them. It had to be Providence. Finally, they had come for him.

Well, he wasn't going to do this guy any favors.

Rex lunged over toward the driver's seat of the van, seizing the wheel in both hands, jerking it left in an effort to throw it off course.

"You sonofabitch! Are you insane?!" The guard shouted, trying to keep the van within his control. Rex only gripped tighter, making the vehicle veer left, sending it straight for a tree. The impact was something he hadn't been prepared for though. Glass from the windshield rained down on them both and Rex's ears rang from the shock. His widened eyes slowly took in the damage, wandering nervously over to the driver's side. The guard's head had slammed against his steering wheel, a gash torn open at his temple. A branch had jammed its way in through the windshield and had skewered the driver straight through the shoulder, leaving his shirt sopping with blood.

Rex froze, thinking that he'd killed the man, except that he grunted in pain a second later, groaning softly.

"You idiot…" The man slurred, reaching for his gun almost blindly. But the searching hand fell after a few moments of struggle and he went completely limp.

Immediately, Rex shook off his daze and jumped out of the vehicle. He very nearly left without sparing the driver another thought. His legs didn't want to work though, and not only because of how clumsy they were. Lingering by the van, he groaned in frustration and threw the sky a withering glare. Trotting over to the driver's side, he pried at the door with as much effort as he could muster. He wasn't used to being so incredibly weak. After retching the door open, he examined the guard's injury, trying to decide the best way to get him unpinned by the branch. Rex didn't think he possessed the strength to snap it.

Finally, he leaned over to adjust the seat as far back as it was capable of moving. The branch slid out of the man's shoulder, giving off a squelch that made Rex want to squirm in disgust. He dragged the guard out of his seat and set him down on the side of the road. There was nothing he could do about the blood though. He knew next to nothing on the subject of first aid.

So he sprinted down the road as fast as he could, not looking back at the wreck he was leaving behind. The awkward clumsiness in his legs was gone, adrenaline making him more alert and stable.

Leaping forward, he attempted to activate one of his builds but nearly tripped when they did not materialize upon command. He stumbled forward, but ultimately caught himself before he could hit the concrete and continued his mad dash down the road. So he had to wait for the serum to wear away. Back at the facility, they had a schedule for administering his injections but Rex never kept track. Maybe that would have been a good idea.

He was unsure of how far he had run, where he was, or where he was even going. He simply pushed forward until the skies began bleeding orange with the rise of the sun. It was then that he slowed to a walk, breathing heavily, fighting to catch his breath. It had been a while since he'd gotten that much exercise. His legs were left sore when, at last, he began seeing signs of civilization.

There were trucks making their morning commute, tractors too, and even sporty looking convertibles zipping through the street with lowered roofs. Such a wide range of vehicles, all drastically different from each other. He must have been approaching a town. A fruit stand stood at the corner of the long, winding road. Behind it, a man was selling strawberries underneath a colorful, rainbow umbrella.

"Hey!" Rex jogged up to him, knowing that he must have been a sight to see. Not a good one either.

Nonjudgmental, the vendor gave Rex his attention, gesturing to his strawberries, "You want to buy?"

Slowing to a walk, Rex shook his head, stopping in front of him.

"Sorry… I don't have any cash on me. I just wanted to know where I am?"

"Where?"

"Yeah. Where am I?"

The man's eyes creased in concentration, uncomprehending. Apologetically, the vendor gave a defeated shrug and informed, "No Inglés. Sorry."

Rex wracked his mind trying to figure out how to communicate what he was trying to say, wondering whether or not he should just keep moving and find somebody else who could understand him. His Spanish was okay but nothing impressive. It was passable but not by much. Caesar used to tease him abo-

Caesar wasn't here anymore.

His expression fell, fingers clenching themselves into tight fists.

Determined, he felt compelled to make this man understand him. Even if it was just this little thing, even if it would have been much easier to find another person, he wanted to do this. Because this was important. Inexplicably, sentimentally important for reasons he couldn't name. Like trying to find something that was lost to him. It wasn't going to change a thing at all, but it was as if Caesar was watching.

He went over the words in his head slowly, thinking about how he wanted to pronounce his words.

Do you... know where we are…

"Sabes… donde estamos?"

The Vendor understood it then, easily overlooking his accent and replying, "California. Bienvenido, camarada."

How the hell did he end up in California? That was some luck. Noah lived in the United States.

Rex gave him a pleased wave as he continued walking toward the town.

Without money he didn't have many options, and he didn't know how he could possibly get a hold of someone from Providence. He needed to find a phone so that he could try contacting someone.

The first diner he spotted was the one he slipped into. Unlike the vendor, he did garner some stares there. It was early, so he was mostly only disturbing the elderly with his savage appearance. But old folks tended to be disturbed by many things so it probably wouldn't have mattered what he was wearing.

Awkwardly, he asked with a sheepish grin, "Anybody here got a phone I could use?"

Nobody answered him save for a tiny waitress who gestured for him to have a seat at a booth, "Sit there and hold on a sec. I'll let you use mine."

Gratefully, Rex nodded to her and took a seat, resting his head in his arms. Exhausted, He shut his eyes and waited for the phone. He'd been travelling all night and was beginning to feel it catch up with him.

Opening his eyes again, he glanced around the diner slowly, stomach growling when he caught a whiff of the food. His mouth watered and he sat up straighter, only to have his lips part in shock once he caught a glimpse of the television. The News Broadcast wasn't what stole his attention from the aroma. It was the date displayed in a red banner at the bottom right corner of the screen.

Had it really been three years?

Three entire years had passed by in what seemed like a blink of his eyes. Nobody had come for him in all that time.

He was shaken out of his stupor by the waitress returning with her phone.

"Here you go-"

She was interrupted by the harsh swing of the door opening. It hit the wall with a crash that grabbed the attention of every one of the diner's patrons.

Stumbling inside was Rex's guard. He was furious, his pistol drawn and aimed at him. His shoulder was haphazardly bandaged, and his temple was smeared with crusted blood.

The waitress screamed, ripping herself away from Rex's side in an instant.

"You bastard. " The guard snarled at him.

Rex didn't expect him to shoot but he did, and would have gotten him in the kneecap had he not flinched out of the way. He was out of his seat, running for the counter. He wasn't quick enough. The man had him by his shoulder and yanked him backward, dragging him out of the diner.

Roughly, he was thrown onto the pavement. He yelped at the boot that was stomped into his torso, keeping him down while the man took aim at him.

"Stay down! Stay down you little shit!"

Baring his teeth, a growl ripped from Rex's throat, from the pain and the effort he was putting into trying to throw the man off of him.

He wasn't going to let the man have his freedom, not after having finally gotten away. He was going home. Rex's fingers closed around his former jailer's ankle, heaving the boot off of him.

He was going home.

He managed to pry the boot off, his arm shaking beneath the weight.

Then… there was nothing at all. He exhaled in a huff, his breathing becoming much easier once the weight was lifted off of him completely.

Rex blinked away the sunshine in his eyes and pushed himself up.

His guard was being in held in the air by another figure who gripped him tightly by the vest. This newcomer wore a silver helmet, a purple visor blocking all view of their face, leaving only two glimmering purple eyes visible. Their bodysuit was black, but they had silver boots, gauntlets, and a chest plate. A purple cape swung from their shoulders, rustling with the wind. At first, Rex hoped that White Knight had updated his suit, but it couldn't be him. The body type didn't match and White Knight? In anything other than the color white? God forbid.

"I have traversed through time." The stranger sounded amused, "Entire galaxies. And you thought that you could hide from me?"

The guard was kicking weakly, opening his mouth only to close it once more. There was nothing he could say. He trembled in the stranger's grip, whimpering, "No… No, please. No."

The stranger turned his head to Rex, "I've been looking for friends in all the wrong places."

"You can have him!" The guard begged with a vigorous nod, "Take him. Please, just let me go..."

"Let go of him!" Rex shouted, having realized far too late that they'd never been running from Providence. Never. It was this guy who had frightened the guards badly enough to have him moved.

But the stranger did not release his guard. The guard stopped begging for his life and began to scream when his body began aging rapidly, becoming bone then crumbling before them. As dust, he was carried away by the breeze.

"What… What did you do to him?" Rex breathed, backing away slowly.

"I did nothing. That was Time, the fate of everyone eventually…"

The masked stranger took a step closer as Rex took several ones backward.

"Rex Salazar, it's a pleasure. I am called Eon."