How many thousands of years of battle had there been? Not even the old ones knew.

How many thousands of years would there be before the battle ended? None could answer such a question. Yet it had ended. In a single flash of light that scorched the world nearly clean.

My wounds still hurt, but at least they're closed.

Pod's turned his light off to preserve power in case we're down here a long time. He can't replenish, not without sunlight. The design is smart but inconvenient given the circumstances. Yet he will stay without a word of protest or complaint.

I feel a little bad for using an EMP bomb on him when we met. I can protect V from anything, but I don't have whole encyclopedias inside of me to tell me how to care for humans. I know they need food and water because the animals do. I know shelters were important because they built so many. I know a lot about humans. I've learned everything I could about how they lived since I found V. But how to make them well when they're sick? What they can and can't eat? What conditions they can and can't bear? I need Pod for that.

I've gotten used to him now, but sometimes I still get a heavy feeling in my stomach and a pain at the back of my head when he comes too close. I wish I didn't. It's the same feeling I get when I'm near that kid.

Nothing has made me feel it as strongly as the body I found when I was searching the waterfall, though.

I clench my arms around myself and drive the memory away. I don't need to think about that. All I need to think about is following Pod's example. He stayed at the falls when I didn't, and V could have died. This time, I will be patient.

To pass the time, so I tell myself stories of what will happen when V gets back. Oil and escaped lubricant stain my clothes. It's even gotten on his coat, so I'll need to find a place to wash them clean. I'm pretty sure all the bottles broke when I got tossed around by Emil, so I'll need to replace them.

I don't know what else he'll need after that, but I think of a hundred more ways I could be useful.

And I wait.

Humans came after the light faded and the wounds healed. Fast and fleeting and countless. Meager and wretched and cruel. How she despised humans.

There's a scraping in the dark.

My head rises but my body is frozen in place. I have no weapons. I don't think I could use them in such a tight, unstable place even if I did. Pod spins in the air and his light clicks on. I really wish he hadn't. I don't know how many hours it's been, but the overwhelming pressure from below is moving like an expanding bubble against my body. It rises toward the hallway while the cool beam of light goes unbroken by so much as a mote of dust.

The bubble bursts.

Tar rises in floating, viscous strands from the stairwell. The rest of V follows, so pale he is almost aglow in the middle of all the twisting ink and dancing shadows. I've never seen V crawl, but he drags himself up like a beast. His tattoos have come away from his skin and they float up from him and around him like kelp tethered to a pallid seabed.

Whether the motion I make is toward him or away, I'm not sure. Either way, it catches his attention. The tar swells toward me, and presses against my arms and face and body. I knew it wasn't really tar, and it feels nothing like tar. I can't describe it outside of the ways it refuses to be any of the things I would expect. It isn't warm or cold or solid or liquid, and more than physical disgust, its fear that makes me scream and slap the substance away.

It stops swaying. Without a sound, it settles back down against V's skin, and he falls forward, collapsing over my shoulder. It takes me a few moments to regain control of my motor functions, and even then I hesitate to touch him. It's only gingerly that I let him down onto his back.

My voice is only a squeak in the dark. "V…?"

His eyes move toward mine, but I don't recognize his expression. When he was dying of cold, he was like an animal backed into a corner. He lashed out at me with all his might but none of his precision or elegance. It wasn't fear in his eyes when I had to restrain him. He looked at me like I was an enemy and he was going to fight me until his dying breath.

This V is calm. Too calm.

Above me, Pod speaks. "THIS IS TACTICAL SUPPORT UNIT POD 042 TO SUPPORT UNIT GRIFFON. REQUESTING REPORT."

Griffon emerges from along V's arms immediately. "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not a goddamn support unit!"

I grab his beak without thinking. He looks shocked, and I quickly press my finger to my lips and gesture up at the thousands of tons of earth that could collapse on us.

He shakes himself free and perches atop V's chest. "Yeah, yeah, noise-control. Got it."

"…So?" I prompt, when he doesn't say anything else. "Is V okay?"

"Of, for—Yes he's fine. Does this idiot look dead to you? V's got a habit of biting off more than he can chew in case you haven't noticed by now. You know what would happen if I worried about him as much as you do? My entire ass would be gray."

"QUERY: WHAT IS THE STATUS OF UNIT GRIFFON?"

Griffon and I both give the Pod a confused look. Griffon recovers before I do, and his feathers puff out with pride. "Oh well thanks for asking, soda can, I've never felt better!"

"ACKNOWLEDGED. IF UNIT GRIFFON'S CONDITION IS SATISFACTORY, THEN SUBJECT V'S CONDITION IS STABLE. PROPOSAL: RETURN TO THE DESERT SURFACE."

It's a proposal I'm more than happy to take.

V can walk and is aware enough to guide himself through the collapsed areas, but I carry him as much as I can to keep our pace quick. He doesn't resist.

Griffon stays out with us this time, always just ahead of the reach of Pod's light, but shows no sign of worry at how docile V's become. I've never asked about Griffon or Shadow or their relationship with V. They do their best to ensure he doesn't die, so they aren't all that different from me. What business did I have prying? But Pod has shown again he knows more about V's care than I do, and this time it's not based on knowledge from his archive.

I find it a little frustrating. But I know Pod won't leave V, so I'll just rely on him as is.

Griffon's noisy laugh welcomes us back into the sunlight. He takes V from my arms and soars upward, and I'm left to frown at Pod 042. I know what's about to happen. For Pod to carry me such a long way up, I have to enter suspension mode.

I know it's necessary, but I always see terrible things the moment before my consciousness cuts off. The bodies of so many androids, stretching away before me into the dark.

I don't know their faces, but I know that I used to.

What one of them had the strength to stand against the glory of her soul? What creature so small could hold their head as proudly as she?

We decide that the safest place for V is in the forest castle.

There's too much risk if we try to leave the desert on foot. Both V and I have been seen, so it's up to Griffon to fly him to safety. He takes V's cane in one claw and says it's not a problem. That he's flown V along that way before. I don't ask. I tug V's coat free from my hips. It's incriminating, but it's not my possession to dispose of so I dump the broken glass and sand from V's bag, stuff the coat inside, and give that to Griffon as well.

"Try to be helpful and now I'm a goddamn pack mule," he complains with a hefty sigh. "You takin' the long way around then, lady-bot?"

"Yeah. I'll meet you there."

I watch him go until I can't see his blue wings or V's shape anymore.

It's a long crossing of nearly the entire desert to reach the oil field on the southwest side. I don't want to run too fast in case it draws attention, so I pass hours trotting and sliding in the sand. At least it keeps the risk of overheating down.

The oil field is empty. No machines, no androids. Not living ones anyway. A dead YoRHa slumps over the top of the ledge overlooking the black lake. When I go up to investigate, I find a second one sprawled out between a palm tree and several supply boxes that unfortunately don't contain anything I can use. Raw materials, mostly. Their weapons are laying out useless and baking in the sun, but I can't take those either. If I'm going to pass through the outpost, a YoRHa blade is the last thing I want to carry.

I pick one up anyway, throw my hood back, and shear my hair off at the nape, carefully tossing it down into the deepest part of the lake. Someone shot me, so I have to assume a ranged unit saw me. 'Long red hair' is the kind of identifier that will get spread around if they have any reason to think I'm not dead at the bottom of that pit.

I drop back down and wade in. It's hot, in a way that might've been nice if I hadn't just spent hours running through the desert, but it's still oil, and spreads thick and slimy into my boots. Before Pod warned me that sudden heat could kill a human dying of cold, I'd wanted to warm V back up here. I'm glad we didn't. I'm sure he would've hated it the moment he came back to his senses.

"Pod you know that YoRHa boy really well, right? What's he trying to do?" The question is quick and vague. Even though I'm not asking V or technically asking about V, I feel like I'm prying where I shouldn't be. "I-I mean why isn't he with V right now?"

"UNIT 9S IS WORKING WITHIN THE RESISTANCE TO PREVENT SUBJECT V'S DISCOVERY AND POTENTIAL SUSPICION IN THE DEATH OF ARMY OF HUMANITY INFORMATION OFFICER RHO."

"…Is that who I killed?"

"AFFIRMATIVE."

V said I endangered an armistice. Now I understand. That weapon I found in the ravine was a YoRHa weapon, so they think a YoRHa unit killed the officer. Resistance members come and go and die all the time, but an officer of the Army being killed after a cease-fire is cause for action. They must've suspected the kid and talked him into figuring out who did it.

Well, it's a misunderstanding that will have to wait.

I slick oil through my hair until it's more brown than red and smear it over the red stains on my clothes as well. If I'm dirty, I might get teased, but no one will scrutinize me too hard. When I pass through the outpost, I make an effort to look a little annoyed. Someone with a rough voice asks what the hell happened to me.

"Got spooked at the oil field," I say, sounding appropriately put out and whipping some oil off my hands. "Some YoRHa up there but they're already dead."

Two laughs answer. "Oh, those two! They've been dead for months; took too much E-drug and fought themselves to death out there!"

It's not a story that makes me feel good enough to laugh, so I click my teeth and grumble something about finding somewhere to clean off. They continue to amuse themselves at my expense, but I don't care. It's a little sad if anything.

The resistance took me in. I didn't remember myself, but a few of them remembered that I had been with them before all the chaos. They gave me somewhere to belong in a world where suddenly none of us belonged or had any real purpose.

Even if it's only for a little while, V is worth betraying that kindness. It was a nice display of humanity, but his is the real thing even when it's callous. That's worth more than anything else this world can offer me.

One. There had been one human to work his way into her grace. A merciless and dark-hearted man whose soul had perished with her own in the land of the gods.

V is walking along the rows of moldy books as though he's underwater. His condition hasn't changed, and his tattoos are still wafting off of him at the slightest disturbance. He's awake and aware to an extent, but he isn't himself.

The way I hold his hand (just in case he falls, the castle's very unstable) should bother him. The amount of effort I put in to make sure he eats and drinks should bother him. He bit me last time, after all. But nothing bothers this version of V. I've tried a lot of things. Some of which I hope he doesn't remember later and some of which I personally would like to forget I tried.

But at least I'm trying to do something about this situation, unlike a certain blue bird.

Griffon is hopping in senseless patterns on the ground floor of the library, whistling a complicated three-part harmony between all his beaks. It would be impressive if I hadn't heard it so often since yesterday. He's been very noisy since I caught up with them. About the only quiet I get is when occasionally leaves 'to see what the ravens are gossiping about'. He insists every time I ask that V is alright, so there's really no point in asking him again.

I ask Pod instead, but Pod immediately forward to the question to Griffon.

"He's fine, he's fine."

"SUBJECT V HAS NOT ENTERED A REST PERIOD IN APPROXIMATELY 30 HOURS."

"So?"

"ACCORDING TO THIS POD'S ARCHIVES AND SUBJECT V'S KNOWN PATTERNS, THIS IS ABNORMAL."

"Look at me." Griffon spreads his wings and struts in a small circle. "I'm in the best mood I've ever been in. I could wipe out every machine for a mile. Maybe even two! V's handling some demon business. Can't you both just take it easy and enjoy not having to worry about him doing something stupid for a few days?"

"REQUESTING CLARIFICATION OF 'DEMON BUSINESS'."

Griffon flutters up to us, perching on the remains of the railing. "It means boss man's picked up some pretty intense power, but if he's gonna get it under control he has to come to an agreement with the owner." He switches his perch to V's shoulders. "Trouble is, getting ye olde bonehead to speak clearly is kinda hard!"

"REPORT: DOUBT." Griffon's feathers rise at the accusation, but frankly, I feel the same. "BONES DO NOT POSSESS THE ABILITY TO VOCALIZE."

"Oooh, really wowing me with the facts there, tin man. No fuckin' shit normal bones can't talk! But those bones were packin' some major heat! Death ain't the biggest obstacle to having a little tête-à-tête when you're a demon, and bonehead's got enough juice left to talk—staying on topic, well that's a whole other problem. Being dead a long time and wakin' up all of a sudden with a guy like V in your face? I'd be tilted too!"

Pod's antennae whirs. "DEMON BUSINESS. ACKNOWLEDGED."

Couldn't have said it better myself. I saw what happened when we were fighting in the desert. How V sort of became Shadow. I understand now that the 'other' part of him is the same. He's also a demon, in a way I don't particularly understand or care about.

He'll always be human to me. That's the only part that matters.

Griffon leers at me. "Any more questions, lady-bot?"

Come to think of it, I do. "Will he have another one like you when he finally snaps out of this?"

"Hell no!" Griffon cackles. "You can't make a whole familiar out of two pieces of dried up bone! Even if he could, bonehead's got more power than V ever did."

"Then how is V supposed to get it to agree to anything?"

"He has to figure that out. He has before." Griffon takes off, whistling yet another impressive but grating harmony. "That's why he's the boss man."

Such crimes were committed on my flesh… Death spares me the indignity, yet here are you, to tell me they were indignities no less. What is it you seek? It cannot be to offer succor to mere bones.

The orange grove is empty. The fruit is rotted into the ground and fills the air with a sickly sweet odor and clouds of insects. I'm not sure what I was hoping for. The book Pod gave me did say the fruit doesn't grow at this time of year. Maybe I wanted flowers, but there are none of those either.

During the brief period when he was alone in the city, I followed V here a few times. He would spend hours here, long after he'd had his fill of oranges. I thought he must love them, so when he left I would stuff my pockets with them by the dozen and rush them back to my hideaway in the park. I wouldn't dare to eat them. It was enough that they were there, and their scent seeped into the stone and I could close my eyes and pretend to sit beside him in the grove.

It was the closest I thought I would get to him, at the time.

I press my face into the leaves. They have a similar smell to the fruit, a sharp and bright sscent that I know well. I snap a branch off before I return to the castle with the rest of what I've gathered.

Griffon's an eagle so I don't think he'll mind that I caught doves.

The place where I left V was in the courtyard. He seemed intrigued by something there earlier, but he isn't there now. He never really stays where I leave him. The place where he was so keenly staring at the ground might have been a fountain or something once, but it's just dirt and old stones now. There are a bunch of plants, though, with little pink berries. I pick a few just in case he likes them and try to figure out where he's has gotten to this time.

The towerfall makes it easy to get up high, but much harder to get into some of the more secluded areas of the castle. And I'm much heavier than V, so I can't exactly follow in his footsteps if he's gone to an unstable spot.

I catch a glimpse of him before too long. He's standing way up high on the ramparts over the throne room, staring to the north with a strange intensity. As I draw closer, a familiar pressure pushes against me like centrifugal force, ready to crush me against the nearest wall. The tattoos are floating up over the back collar of his shirt in a strange but symmetrical dance. He looks like he's growing wings.

"Seems bonehead has beef with the freaks in the church." That's Griffon's voice. It's hard for me to get closer, so I wait and listen. "So we might be looking at a cure."

I'm aware V is sort of on the bony side, but I didn't know he was sick.

"QUERY: WERE THE REMAINS THOSE OF THE 'RED DRAGON' IDENTIFIED IN THE RECORDS?"

"Ehhh, your guess is as good as mine. I'm not privy to every little thing they're saying, it's more like a feelin'. But they have dragons in hell too, big fuckers who serve strong demons. I couldn't tell ya what this one would see in V, but if he can convince them they've got a mutual enemy, that might be enough. Not like bonehead can get up and take 'em out without a conduit."

"REPORT: PROGRESS. HOWEVER, V'S PRIMARY GOAL REMAINS OUT OF REACH."

"You'd have to talk directly to him about that one, soda can. I go where V goes. I'd say a contract with the last known being who was able to cross dimensions without passing through hell is probably a good start."

I stop breathing. I feel like I shouldn't hear this—I've never asked anything of V, not where he's going or how long he's been there, or anything he needs that he doesn't need from me. I don't want to know. I don't need to know anything.

I can believe anything I want as long as I don't know anything for certain.

"Hey!" I shout, interrupting them before they can say anything more. "What are you doing all the way up there?!"

I climb up to join them and chastise them both for letting V come so high even though I know that both could carry him.

V's head twitches as I shake the orange bough under Griffon's nose. The ink reaches from his back and steals it from my hands. There is no change in his expression, but it's the most specific reaction I've seen from him in days.

With tightness in my jaw and the crackling current moving under my ribs like live wire, I realize it isn't the oranges he favors so much.

So the gods and the fools who would defy them still exist. Then what remains of my power you claim shall abide with thee in peace. Let it not be said I left our final foe undefeated.

Now leave me, half-breed. I am awaited in oblivion.

V is finally sleeping. Shadow is curled around him, and all feels right even though I know something is strange and different.

His left arm has gone black and leathery. There is something on it like scales or ridges, rough to the touch as the bark of a tree. Thick claws tip his fingers, the same color as moose antlers and the tusks on the boars that roam the forest. Dull violet light weaves between them in symmetrical patterns that remind me a little of fish scales and a little of the ridges on the underside of his cane. His tattoos are still just barely visible if I squint.

He was himself for a moment after the pressure around him dispersed and his tattoos finally settled down. I could tell he was exhausted—it had been nearly three days and he couldn't manage more protest than a vaguely irritated expression as I rushed him to a shaded ledge near the throne room where I knew he could rest undisturbed.

The first thing he did was raise his new arm and examine it in silence. He covered his eyes with his new hand and started to laugh, but it was the most miserable sound I have ever heard. Luckily, it didn't last. The words were slurred by his exhaustion, but I swore I heard him say 'So now I am to be punished'. After that, he fell asleep with a grimace on his lips.

I haven't left him since.

I don't know how long he'll sleep, but I know his sleep is deep. I can tell the slow and rhythmic rise and fall of his chest under my cheek. Every inhale and exhale and the beat of his heart is like a song in my ear. I'm an android. As long as I listen carefully, I can remember this sound as long as I live.

Where did he come from? What is he trying to do? Just how much of a demon is he? Those things are none of my business and none of my concern. He's a human and he needs me for what he needs me for. If he tells me I have done well, that's enough. If I kill for him, that's enough. If I die for him, that's enough.

I'm not stupid. I know he's going back to that kid. It's inevitable. They were together for a long time. But it's better to be disposed of in service to a human than to drift along in this world where androids have no reason to exist.

I think of the shack on the dock of the amusement park, and of V sitting at the table reading one of the books I've left out. Humans like to be warm, so I imagine a fire. Humans like music, but the only songs I know are from the jukebox back in camp, and I become absorbed in wondering which he'd like best while praying that he will sleep a long, long time.

I stare at the symbol that has appeared in V palm. It's something I know about V that 9S does not. Once V is gone, I can pretend 9S never sees it. If I never see them again, what is there to tell me otherwise?

I can tell myself whatever story I wish.

A/N: Next chapter will be after Christmas on the 27th.

PS I drew an actual pact mark for V because why the hell not, but this site doesn't believe in external links and I don't want to change the story cover yet, so best I could do for y'all who have shown interest in story art was change my profile pic. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Speaking of which, I think we're past the part where it would spoil things now, so for the person who asked, a guide to the story cover, starting from the sword and moving clockwise:

Type 4O Sword, Lunar Tear, Bracelet of Time, Fern, V's detached tattoos, the data pillar inside the machine network, 4S, 11S, 9S holding Virtuous Contract, and V holding a black box with his spicy new left hand.