Author's Note: This one's a bit longer chapter to be sure, but I think it turned out alright. If you've made it this far, consider dropping a review; it truly does mean a lot to me to hear your thoughts about anything, really. Also, without revealing too much, the next chapter is definitely going to shake things up a lot so make sure to stay tuned for that.


The shroud of night attempts to settle around me as I return, but its shade does not hinder my direction nor dampen the rhythms of mechanical motion and shifting vegetation. I keep my sight level, unwavering. I do not glance down, for I do not need another reminder of what remains of the life I took. I already feel it move with every step as I grasp the lifeless avian between claw and metal frame. From the edge of my vision above, I catch the glint from the first of the stars emerging from the retreating light of a twilight sky.

Where one light fades, another takes its place.

I slow my steps as I approach the clearing. Even in the darkness, I still sense the everlasting pattern of my surroundings. My recognition guides me, following the fields of grass as they yield to outcrops of rock. I pause beside the familiar opening, and my vision refocuses. From within the cave, a flickering light casts a distinct, still shadow upon the stone walls.

I draw closer, but I do not enter yet. I lean forward, balancing against the entrance's edge with my free arm, and glance inside. The Zoroark lies close by what is left of the fire, her head and shoulder resting against the walls. Her eyes are closed, but she does not seem comfortable. She still must be exhausted, and I do not wish to startle her. I shift my upper half further into the entrance, withdrawing my claw before I firmly strike it against the stone again.

Her eyes immediately open as the dull impact echoes through the interior. She tentatively withdraws from the wall, now sitting upright as she silently regards me. As I enter with deliberate steps, she gazes down to my side, taking notice of what I have brought along. I keep a steady approach, stopping when she looks up again. I lower my stance, setting the prey to the ground as softly as possible.

The Zoroark studies the carcass curiously, but she makes no movement yet. I withdraw, giving her more distance, before forcing myself to look at what she sees. The unwelcome details of the kill already emerge again in my mind, no different than before. A critical impact despite the distance and environment, followed by the voltage overload of nerves and vitals. An instant, efficient kill. There is neither pride nor regret, but only the knowledge of what had to be done.

So she may survive.

I imagine she realizes the same thing, as she finally reaches forward to claim her meal. She drags the carcass further back, lowering her head momentarily to catch its scent. She looks up again, her gaze locking with mine. After a tense pause, she quickly dips her head as she takes a single hasty bite, her blue eyes remaining on me.

Before long, her hunger seems to overcome her apprehension as she begins to devour the meat, spending more time affixed onto her next mouthful than watching me. I find myself looking away as well. The kill may have been clean, but there is nothing clean in how she consumes it. Maybe such is the difference between death and survival.

I leave my thoughts behind as I hear the pace of her eating begin to slow. The remains of the carcass lie scattered on the now-stained floor amidst an undignified heap of bloodied feathers and bones. She regards what is left of the meat, nuzzling the body a few times, before seating herself upright. Regarding me again with a wordless gaze, she swallows her final bite and begins to clean her muzzle with the back of her paw.

She must have been nearly starved, I now realize. All those long days and nights spent in pursuit of a hunt that meant nothing must have seemed like an eternity for her. An eternity without food, drink, or rest. An eternity living in fear.

Meeting her silent gaze, I watch her motions. With every passing moment, her wounds under the bandages surely heal up, and her energy steadily returns. After all I have put her through, I can never expect her to trust me. I can never return the eternity I took away from her. But she will survive. With time, she will recover, she will regain her strength, and she will run away, returning back to her world.

Perhaps she thinks I would try to stop her from leaving. No, I would not do that. I hope, sooner than later, to be able to leave her alone in here just as I have tonight, and return to find nothing but an empty cavern. Perhaps I would sense her trail outside, regardless of whether she leaves hastily or attempts to cover her tracks. But I know I will not follow them. She will have returned to her world.

And I will be left alone in mine. Alone in my existence, but different in my purpose.

I see the Zoroark's head perk up, her ears twitching. She is searching for something, something she can hear further down the cave. I narrow my hearing, blocking out the infrequent sounds of the night outside. There is only one other noise that resonates deep within, and that is what she must be hearing. The steady sound of falling droplets, echoing against the cavern as they break the stillness of water below.

Water. Thirst.

A basic requirement for survival, yet I have never needed it. Nor have I ever particularly noticed it in all my time in the cave, but this is not about myself. I rise up, turning to walk towards the source of the sounds. At the edge of the firelight, the cave shortly turns to a pitch black. I pause halfway in between, remembering my intent. With a simple mental trigger, my mechanical vision can effortlessly see through the darkness, but her natural eyes likely cannot.

I consider otherwise, but there seems to be only one other way to overcome this darkness for both of us. I focus on staying in control as I feel the selected components awaken. My lenses begin to glow a deep crimson, more intensely than in normal activation. The cannon hums steadily without increasing in pitch or volume, and its light emits a similar, lighter shade. The cave stands illuminated, but by the very same technology that the Zoroark has learned to fear by now.

There isn't much alternative, so I start moving again. She seems to realize the same. Slowly, she climbs to her hindpaws, keeping a delicate balance. As she follows me on unsteady steps, I glance back occasionally, always ensuring I keep the cannon pointed away and at its minimum charging sequence.

It isn't long before we reach the modest pool of water, my lights completely revealing the walls of a wider area of the cavern. I move towards one end of the reservoir, and she moves to the other, keeping the same distance as before. Under an unnatural aura, the water remains steady, interrupted only by falling droplets from above. I walk further, looking down into the water. My reflection, a jagged shape of metal armor and glowing eyes, stares back at me.

So that is how they see me.

From the corner of my sight, she stands idle facing me, the water in front of her still untouched. Despite finding the strength to follow me so deep into the cave, she still hesitates. I step back then remain still, keeping an unwavering illumination of the surroundings for her. Another shorter pause, and she finally kneels down to drink.

After some moments, she withdraws her head from the water, but she does not stand as I expect. Instead, she submerges her paws in the water, then brings them out to wash the matted fur around her neck and mane. She repeats this a few more times before she hesitates again, her paws floating above the dried-out bandages across her back. With a quick breath, she makes quick, deliberate contact, the water flowing generously through the silken material. But she does not flinch, seeming surprised in the absence of pain. It seems her recovery would be than we both expected.

More sound of dripping water from her fur fills the cavern as she finally stands up, turning towards me once again. I take the cue, allowing my body to move once again as I begin to retrace the path back towards the entrance.


I stand among the lake's trees, my head tilted up as I gaze at the blanket of night. Interwoven between threads of darkness, the stars and the moon shine their light through the unmoving canopy above. If I focused my senses, I would be able to hear the distinct crackling of burning wood deep within a stone chamber, its freshly invigorated flames serving to dry the coat of the cave's sole inhabitant. Rather, I pick up the sounds of fresh forest breeze, trailing across the moonlit water before gently sweeping across the leaves.

I did not leave her alone because I expected her to try to escape so soon, even given the rapid progress of her healing and the generous cover of the twilight. No, the reasoning is simpler. I doubt she would find much rest in my presence, the presence of a predator. Instinct is strong, and memories are stronger. I cannot alter what I have already done to her.

I can only leave her alone, as I should have long ago, waiting until the time where can finally leave me alone.

"I didn't think I'd find you out here so late."

I turn to face the sound of Virizion's voice, though I had sensed her presence long before. She stands among the shore brush, its verdant shades blending seamlessly with her coloration in the forest's dimness. She looks up, studying the sky, just as she had caught me doing before.

"It's a beautiful night. But that's not really why you're here, is it?"

I shift my feet, shaking the leaves and branches below as her gaze returns to me. She already knows I am not good for conversation. I walk past her, stopping by the water's edge. Dimmed through the faint moonlight, I see the same jagged reflection. This time, I do not draw away.

I stay focused, staring intently into my own eyes as they begin to glow. A series of shifts and clicks as machinery locks, and then an escalating hum. A clear-blue beam darts across the lake, ice instantly crystallizing below it. Another similar sequence of noises, followed by a jet of flame and the cracking of the ice as it shatters and melts.

The light fade from my eyes, leaving only my dimmed silhouette in the newly formed waves. Suddenly I find Virizion standing beside me, her smooth reflection in the water lightly floating in contrast to mine.

She nods understandingly. "You're in control."

It is my turn to nod. At least I hope I am. Silently, we both watch the lake as it reverts to its former stillness in the night air.

"I know you must have seen me long before I spoke, yet I couldn't tell. Not like the first time we met, when you almost…" she trails off with a faint smile. "You know, you really are helping more than just the Zoroark."

From my view in the water, I see Virizion turn her head to face me. I do the same, for the first time looking into her amber eyes.

"You've done a lot for her, more than you realize. And I'm sure, more than you realize, that she can understand that."


A fresh forest breeze gently sweeps through the entrance of the cave, trailing against the fire before it fades.

From the corner of my vision, the Zoroark stirs in her sleep, slowly opening a single eye. Surely she sees me as I rest against the wall just inside the cavern, facing towards the shroud of night outside.

But she stirs no further, both eyes soon closed again as she drifts back to sleep.

If there is more to realize, I will uncover it later. I allow my vision to fade, but I hold onto the remaining sounds of windswept leaves in the last of the wind.