Welcome to "A Past Life of Noah and Mio!" This is an original story which recycles characters, locations, and elements from Xenoblade Chronicles 3. Therefore, only proceed if you've finished the game. This story follows Noah and Mio in a past life before the power of Ouroboros has been harnessed. Neither of them are off-seers because the role doesn't exist yet. Other familiar faces will make cameos, however, their roles and colony affiliations will be different as well.

Personally, I'm not a fan of going back in time, but ideas for this story simply wouldn't go away after playing and thoroughly enjoying the game. It made me smile, it made me cry, and then it made me cry some more. With my limited writing skills, I doubt I'll be able to reach the heights of the game's heartfelt story. Instead, I'll try a different approach in building a meaningful relationship between Noah and Mio.

Someday, I may write a story in which the six main characters reunite in the future that they'd created by conquering Moebius. However, I'd like to see which direction the currently unannounced DLC game takes before I develop those plans further. Also, my Nia story is still active. Managing multiple stories will be tricky, but I wish to leave nothing unfinished. For now, please enjoy my reimagined tale of Noah and Mio venturing through the world of Aionios.

Chapter 1 "A Different Kind of Soldier"

The sun slowly crept over Colony 25, though it was difficult for its soldiers to tell with a thick layer of haze blanketing the Apex Wing of Dannagh Desert. Most days were like this, thanks to the close proximity to the Great Sea whose vortex within was known to tease the currents every now and then. Everybody at this silver rank colony was accustomed to it, having used these conditions to their advantage across several battles. Perhaps, it was no wonder that they held dominion over the land of shifting sands.

On this particular day, it was business as usual for Noah, a ninth-term Kevesi soldier assigned to Colony 25's salvage branch. With the winds constantly reshaping the crests of the desert, pieces of destroyed Levnises were frequently bearing their shiny faces. After all, no battle was a clean one out here.

"Salvage branch, in formation!" Commander Colin strolled past a line of six soldiers. "Solon, Fonse, Yuzet, Denize, Lana, Noah. Good, you're all here on-time for once." Their superior wasn't the oldest of the group, but seniority hardly mattered to this colony. Tapping two fingers to his temple, his right eye glowed orange which sent a map with coordinates to the Irises of his troops. "Right, you lot will scour the eastern rim where scrap was spotted yesterday. You know the drill! Keep track of each other at all times!"

"Yes sir!" everybody shouted together before heading out via a carrier Levnis. Indeed, this was nothing new for them, having undertaken such missions on a weekly basis.

Still early in the morning, the heat hadn't quite arrived yet, but visibility proved to be an immediate problem once Noah and company landed at their destination. Everybody wore helmets and masks to keep the sand out of their faces, though the gear hardly offered comfort. Stepping outside, they slowly approached their salvage site but found it under the control of an unexpected party.

"What's this?" the salvager up front halted the group with an arm out.

"Fonse?" the next closest one peered over his shoulder. "Have you spotted something?"

"Look, Denize, everyone," he stepped aside, "seems a few monsters got here before us."

"We'll have to eradicate them." Solon, the only wingman of the bunch, took the initiative and drew his sharpshooter Blade. "Shouldn't take long, yeah?"

"Indeed! C'mon!" Fonse drew his Blade next, a mace-and-shield combo, prompting the rest of the group to ready themselves, too.

"Wait!" Noah interjected before the mad dash could begin.

"What's the matter, eh?" Denize spun around, scowling beneath her gear.

"They're dragguia ropls," he sidled to the right. "We don't normally encounter these so close to home. Be careful. They're faster than they look."

"Ah, we'll be fine," she rebuffed his warning, charging ahead with her sword in hand.

"Right! Let's go!" Lana quickly followed suit with her heavy sword, as did the others with their Blades. Not wishing to let them run into avoidable peril, Noah summoned his Blade, a long sword unique to him, and joined the monster brawl as it unfolded.

There were three ropls in all, each one bearing teeth, claws, and crystallization shiny enough to pierce through the haze. If not for such visual cues, the salvaging team would've been these monsters' breakfast. Even so, they weren't about to give up their territory easily. One ropl cut forward as fast as the wind, knocking over two of the soldiers in the process.

"Hang on!" someone hollered franticly but their face remained enshrouded. However, an ensuing burst of green light signaled the timely arrival of Yuzet, the team healer, keeping their wounds at bay with his handy staff.

"Stay alert!" Noah advised after bashing the monster out of their way. "Anticipate the attack pattern and counter their lunges."

"Who made you team leader?" Denize sputtered over her shoulder.

"No one did," his brows rumpled together. "It's just common sense, though."

"Let's try it, then," Fonse nodded to him. "Your judgment hasn't killed anyone in the colony yet." The other salvagers huddled together, suddenly willing to listen to their level-headed comrade.

"As I said, study their behavior," Noah resumed, keeping an eye past their shoulders for the monsters. "Strike when they're off-balance."

"Aye!" a call of approval sounded from the group before they returned their attention to the present task. Within seconds, two of the three ropls launched themselves upon their prey. However, this time they knew how to handle them, waiting for the right moment to gain the upper hand.

"Now!" the ponytailed soldier gave the command when the ravenous reptiles leapt for them. Together with Solon, he slashed at the belly of the nearer beast, downing it instantly. Meanwhile, Fonse and Denize did the same to the other aggressive ropl, though it proved to be a slightly tougher foe. As for the third one, its relatively unresponsive behavior made it easy for Lana and Yuzet to finish off despite being the two physically weakest members of the team. "No more movement… are we all good?"

"My legs are stiff, but I'm alright otherwise," the wingman trudged back to his comrades, feathers full of grit.

"Yeah, we're all here," the mace-wielder declared after taking a headcount. "Thanks, Noah."

"Huh?" the de facto leader tilted his head. "For what?"

"You didn't make me look a fool," Fonse shifted his weight to one side, grinning behind his mask.

"Oh," Noah observed the various countenances staring back at him, "but heeding each other's opinions shouldn't be considered foolish."

"Mate, just take the compliment, would you?" his supportive teammate withdrew his Blade now that the area had been cleared. "Now, let's do what we came here for."

"Right…" the ponytailed soldier removed his helmet and hooked it to his belt, freeing his luscious locks from their sweaty confines. The winds hadn't completely died down, but they were calm enough to no longer sting anybody in the face. "Hopefully, we didn't destroy what could've been salvaged."

"We're still golden," the heavy sword-wielder exclaimed, having nearly tripped on a plate of Levnis armor. "Check it out."

"I've got one, too," Solon waved from further out. "Isn't this from the battle we had against Colony Gamma last year?"

"Could be," Fonse lifted his helmet, revealing his reddish-brown hair. "It happened around here, after all."

"Start the collection but don't throw your backs out," Noah cautioned his fellow salvagers. "That was our first fight in a couple of weeks."

"We know!" the other swordfighter snapped. "We're silver rank."

"What does our rank have to do with anything?" he failed to see her point.

"We're all strong, here," she dropped her hands to her hips. "Any weaklings amongst us have already been dusted."

"That's a bit extreme to say, don't you think?" Noah lowered his eyes at her.

"It's just how things are, no?" Denize didn't let up. "We fight to live. Makes sense to me that those who can't put up a fight don't make it in the end."

"Still," his tone softened, "it just… seems so…"

"Sparks…" their winged teammate uttered upwind.

"Solon?" she turned towards him. "Did you find something?"

"A Kevesi husk…" he heaved, slowly dropping to his knees, "probably one of ours."

"A husk, you say?" Noah tiptoed closer to him, a sick feeling suddenly growing in his stomach. Rarely did a battle in the perpetual war between Keves and Agnus leave behind no fatalities. Every soldier was a slave to this world, destined to serve their respective queen and country for the maximum of ten years with which they were granted at birth. The only question left to them was whether their lives would be scattered in the breeze at the end of that allotted time or be taken sooner on the battlefield like this poor, unearthed soul whose body had become a hardened corpse.

"I wonder who she was," Denize scooped enough sand away to leave the body partially exhumed. "Can we identify her?"

"Let's see," Solon read the attached dog tag through his Iris. "Waveney… crap, so this is where she…"

"Waveney?" the redhead repeated, sighing heavily. "She never did quite get the hang of it."

"Only proves my point," she stood again, crossing her arms. "She was weak, wanted nothing more than to play with the dolls she made."

"We… should remember her for her talents," the ponytailed Kevesi opted to focus on the positive instead.

"Yeah," their wingman held his helmet against his chest, "and she'd lighten the mood whenever we returned to base."

"I always found her creepy," Denize shook her head, far from sympathetically.

"Regardless, we have to report her to the commander," Noah did the honors via his Iris.

"Yeah, but how's the actual salvaging going?" Fonse suddenly realized how little they'd contributed.

"We've got enough junk collected now… whew!" Yuzet rejoined the group, carrying a sizeable Levnis plate over his head.

"I'm sweating up a storm, and it's not even hot yet," Lana lugged two smaller pieces. "Thank the clock for showers."

"Right," the de facto leader eyed their nearby carrier Levnis. "Let's haul this stuff in and go home for a wash."

The task wasn't as simple as it sounded. Noah and company spent more time securing their quarry than they did traveling back to Colony 25. It was a decent haul, providing their mechanics plenty of material with which to tinker. Once the vessel was emptied, it was off to the showers for the crew.

"What?!" the female swordfighter froze at the bathhouse entrance. "It's closed?"

"Hmm…" the mace-wielder spied a sign posted on the wall, "seems we've run out of water, again."

"Why again?" her eyes bore a hole in his forehead, looking for someone to blame.

"Same reason as always," Fonse was used to her attitude by now. "We're stationed in the desert, so of course we're gonna dry up."

"Why doesn't Commander Colin just send a Levnis to Lake Rezzento?" she huffed, now facing the rest of the group. "It's not like we're always busy fighting."

"Ask him if you want to know," he ran a hand through his uncombed hair. "I don't have every answer."

"For a silver rank colony, it sure feels like we're dirt," Denize continued to fuss, unwittingly digging her foot in the ground.

"Depends on what you consider a priority," Fonse cast his gaze at their well-fed Flame Clock. "Since we are silver, we get lots of ardun meat from the castle."

"Speaking of which, the canteen's open," Noah noticed the time through his Iris. "It's a bit early, but we may as well grab a bite."

"Our last luxury, I guess," she sighed, marginally soothed by the proposal.

"Yeah, c'mon!" the other girl of the group tugged her by the shoulders. "There's no line yet."

"Fair enough," Denize finally loosened up as a warm whiff from the kitchen tickled their noses.

Unlike most, Colony 25's canteen had its own tent to keep the sand out of their hard-earned, well-cooked grub. However, there wasn't enough space for every table. By arriving early today, the salvagers didn't have to worry about dining outside.

"Grilled sandwiches and mixed mushroom pilaf?" Solon was the first to grab a tray.

"Menu's gone stale, hasn't it?" her sour mood found new fuel. "We've got no variety here."

"It's better than starving," he refused to hear another gripe from her today.

"Yeah, we've never had to worry about running empty," the healer chimed in, "whether it's food or the Flame Clock."

"We never lose a battle," next spoke the mace-wielder while everybody took a seat at the table. "No Agnian colony knows how to handle the desert. That's why our clock's always filled."

"Sure, but we're all ace fighters, too," even Denize contributed to the self-appraisal, her discontent already distracted by the meal.

"Indeed, especially Noah, here," Fonse swiveled towards him.

"Hmm? Me?" Their ponytailed teammate was caught between mouthfuls.

"Yeah, you," the redhead nodded once. "There's no situation you can't handle."

"And I rarely need to come to your aid," Yuzet added, adjusting his glasses.

"Oh, um… please, it's not necessary," Noah hunched over his tray, stealing looks left and right.

"Exactly!" the healer lifted a greasy hand. "You're never beaten down and in need of my…"

"No, I mean this… flattery isn't necessary," the humble swordfighter corrected him. "I'm just… aware of my surroundings, that's all."

"Surely your Blade has something to do with it," Fonse posited before digging into his pilaf.

"You think?" Noah started tapping on the table, wishing for this conversation to shift elsewhere.

"Can't say I've ever seen anything like it," Yuzet commented what everyone was thinking, "especially the shape and color."

"And doesn't it… like, come apart?" the mace-wielder couldn't fight his curiosity. "Could've sworn I've seen you pull a thinner sword out of it, unless I'm mistaken."

"Y-you're not mistaken," the ponytailed soldier stared at his half-eaten sandwich. "I'd rather not have to use it if possible."

"Why is that?" Lana asked before the chatter died down while Noah carefully considered whether or not to answer.

"It's too dangerous. I could actually kill someone with it." Another pause followed his response.

"That's… a bad thing?" Fonse was the first one to shake off the shock while everyone else maintained their blank stares across the table. "We're supposed to, y'know?"

"I know, but I'd rather not… take life," Noah's appetite had dwindled by now, knowing how deep he'd fallen into this hole.

"Whoa… alright, now today's gotten interesting," the other swordfighter thawed out next, chuckling incredulously.

"Look, I would appreciate it if we could just drop it," he tried his best not to lose his patience with them.

"So, you've never actually killed an Agnian?" she ignored his request.

"I think we're done talking, here," Noah grabbed his tray, excusing himself from the table. By now, the canteen had filled with other soldiers as more teams returned from their morning rounds.

Finding his way to the barracks, he began to wonder if he'd divulged too much. As a Kevesi soldier who'd initially sworn allegiance to his queen in his earliest memory, Noah knew that it was his duty to slay Agnians. Yet, he'd never actually done so, an impressive abstinence which could spell him trouble if either his commander or consul became wise to it. Indeed, Noah was a different kind of soldier, one who saw no sense in war.

Four days later, more debris was discovered in Dannagh Desert which meant Noah and his fellow salvagers were combing the dunes again. This time, however, the collection site was much further south at Namba Mound, a lower swath of land where Colony 25 had previously fended off an Agnian raid. Hisses of aspars kept everybody on their toes, but luckily both parties minded their boundaries for the duration of the dig which lasted well past sundown.

"Man, there's so much junk here," the healer extricated an Equites' face. "How come we're only just now cleaning up this mess?"

"The winds blow sand on and off wreckage all the time," the mace-wielder started a pile with a couple of side panels.

"True, but considering where we are, I'd say the quicksand might've played a part," their ponytailed teammate speculated, peering at the crest of the nearest sinkhole.

"An expert of all things, aren't you?" Fonse momentarily removed his helmet to wipe his brow.

"Hardly," Noah shook his head, still uninterested in their flattery. "They teach everybody about the terrain when they transfer to the colony, remember?"

"Otherwise, we'd be just as vulnerable as the Agnians we fight out here," the wingman joined their chat. "It's no wonder we have dominion over the des-"

"Hold up, Solon," the mace-wielder interrupted him, bringing his hand to his temple, "I'm getting communication from the commander." The others also partook in the call through their Irises.

"Fonse, gather the team," the commander sounded harried.

"They're here, they're listening, sir," Fonse glanced around to make sure. "What's the trouble?"

"We've detected enemy presence entering the search zone," Commander Colin informed the salvagers.

"An Agnian force, sir?" the redhead tried to ward off an incoming spell of panic.

"Yes, from the south, though we anticipate it's a small one," the commander clarified. "Since you're the closest team to it, we need you to take it out."

"Us, sir?" The uncertainty on Fonse's face mirrored those of most of his comrades. "But we're the salvagers."

"Do it," Commander Colin didn't budge on the order. "The consul insists."

"The consul's at the colony?" the mace-wielder straightened up stiffly like a pole.

"Breathing down my neck as we speak, so do it now." And with that, the commander promptly cut off their communication, leaving the team to wonder if chaos was about to unfold both here and back home.

"An Agnian force approaches?" Yuzet shuffled towards the center of the group, summoning his staff.

"The consul wants us to deal with it?" Solon summoned his gun, adjusting his helmet. "We can't back out, then."

"Of course not! Why would we?" Denize was raring to go, sword in hand. "We're elite!"

"Seems like we'll have to," her fellow swordfighter hardly shared her enthusiasm.

"Anybody see this Agnian force?" the other girl of the team peered around for their target.

"The commander said they're coming from the south," Fonse spotted ether lights in the distance. "Over there!" Soon, everyone's sights were set on the suspicious movement along the base of the nearby mountain.

"Do you think they can see us?" the winged sharpshooter took a knee in the sand. "Should we ditch our Blades until we're closer?"

"No, our power frames will still give us away," the swordswoman tapped on hers which was fitted to her belt.

"They don't know we're here," Noah claimed confidently but quietly.

"How's that?" she turned to him momentarily.

"It's a carrier Levnis, like ours," he identified the vessel despite the darkness, "only theirs is autopiloted with no eyes on the ground."

"So, we can just rush 'em, then," Fonse summoned his mace and shield, "right Noah?"

"They're moving too fast for us, and our Levnis isn't fully equipped for combat." Although these were excuses to avoid fighting, the pacifist of the group wasn't wrong, either. Much to his dismay, however, their target soon landed just shy of the neighboring Zell Quicksands.

"They must be looking for something," Solon rose tentatively, steadying his gun. "They're sitting bunnits, now."

"Let's go, already," Denize didn't wait for an order.

"I'm right behind you," even the mace-wielder moved without consulting Noah this time. Taking their inadvertent cue, Solon, Yuzet, and Lana quickly followed in their tracks.

"Spark…" Noah had no choice but to do so as well, teeth gritted and sword gripped. What'd begun as a routine outing was about to spiral into an ambush for which neither side had planned.

The howling of the desert winds drowned out any noise made by the emboldened Kevesis as they dashed towards the parked Agnian Levnis. Staying just out of sight, they counted six enemy soldiers, so their only advantage was the element of surprise.

"We each take one down," Fonse whispered to his teammates, raising his hand. "When I give the signal, we rush in." Nodding in understanding, the Kevesi salvagers prepared to attack the unsuspecting Agnians who appeared to be digging for something themselves. Whatever the object was, it would be their undoing as the signal was given for the ambush to commence.

Making the first move was Solon who shot his target in the back of the head. However, it was only enough to injure them, and soon both sides were locked in battle. Scared for their life, one Agnian ducked into their Levnis, but Denize put an end to both soldier and machine. Moments later, she emerged from the trashed cabin as it filled with the red motes of her victim.

Meanwhile, Noah's target was also a slippery one, dodging most of his swipes as the two of them drifted towards the rear of the now-disabled Levnis. Unfortunately for the Agnian, their inexperience in the sand took a toll on their legs, slowing them down enough for the Kevesi to slash them in the side. Clearly injured, they fell to their knees and awaited the final blow.

"Get out of here," the pacifist stepped back, grimacing.

"W-what?" the Agnian couldn't believe their ears.

"Just leave, please," Noah was visibly upset, himself. By now, their private skirmish had meandered out of sight of their respective teams. With a moment to breathe, both combatants became acutely aware of the calm that'd smothered the agonized screams and clashing of weapons. A pall of motes rose from the other side, signaling the end of the struggle.

"I… don't understand…" the injured adversary was dumbfounded by his display of mercy. Swallowing their pride, they clambered to their feet and disappeared into the night.

"Noah? Where'd you go?" The anxious voice of the mace-wielder sounded from around the corner.

"I'm right here," the ponytailed soldier turned to find his teammate in good condition.

"Checking for the one that got away, were you?" Fonse wiped his stained gloves. "We only counted five husks."

"Huh? Oh… yeah." Noah played along once he'd realized the misassumption. "What about our team?"

"Lana and Solon took a few hits, but Yuzet healed them up nicely," his fellow salvager reported, holding his head high. "I'll let the commander know as soon as we all reconvene by our ride."

"Ah, very good, then," the unique swordfighter withdrew his Blade.

"Indeed! Two missions accomplished in one trip! And with the consul at home, we might even get a commendation!" Fonse was positively giddy as he started to leave. "Don't keep us waiting too long, eh?"

"I won't." Noah waited for him to put some distance between them before letting his true face resurface. Hesitantly, he peered into the Agnian Levnis to find the husk of Denize's victim, lying on the floor with both hands over their head. Next, with even more trepidation, Noah shuffled past the trashed vessel to observe four more Agnian husks left by his triumphant teammates. None of these deaths felt necessary to him, but sadly he knew not a soul who felt the same way. This war between Keves and Agnus made for a bleak landscape, with tonight's ambush only adding to the destruction. Staring southward and sighing heavily, Noah took some solace in the life which he'd consciously spared. At the same time, however, he couldn't help but wonder if his decision would eventually come back to bite him.