Of the eleven brave souls that participated in the orchestrated farce of a tournament, one stood above everyone reckless enough to join the fray. The immortal hero from the Old World defeated his opponents—be it one of the two assassins, the anachronistic bandana-wearing oddball, the small girl swinging around an anchor like it was nothing, or the old man he saved the life of several decades ago—and bested who had been his rival since his stint with the Order. After defeating the young swordsman, who he faced next later outed themselves as the one behind the soon-to-be revival.

"I had wanted to offer her your blood if I could. However… it's a pleasure to offer up myself for my master…! Now, the time of revival is here! Justice, my master!"

With the last of the needed blood shed, their attention went to the top of the stairway. Light in the form of a familiar emblem shined through, brightness comparable to that of a lighthouse in the dead black of night.

"Sol! Could this presence be…?"

"Give me a break… Looks like they weren't kidding."

A divine central light cast upon the clouds shines brightly amidst the swirl of smoky grey. It's reflected off the surface of the crystalline structures hovering above the stone archways—ornate with intricate carved patterns and aqua jewels inlaid. The four crystals served as prisons for strange and grotesque creatures—were they placed inside for their own preservation, alive or dead? One of the massive doors she entered through broke off the hinges, oriented diagonally to rest on the frame, partially obscured by the unaffected.

The Commander descends, making her way down to the duo. Ky takes it upon himself to fight her first—he takes over after she dodges an attack from Sol. One exchange about how she believes humans were the ones who wanted her to become like this, him claiming it's false, and her counter-arguing that she isn't evil and that it's merely her fate later, their encounter's cut short. She primes and fires a Gamma Ray; it misses as he's rescued at the last moment. His "savior" safely lies him down a few meters away; he loses consciousness shortly after.

Face to face again, the two stand on opposite ends of the arena. Although nowhere near her colossal form from when they last met five years prior, the mech-like appearance she's taken remains towering over. Justice's half-revived stature stands nineteen inches greater than Sol. Her palette matches that of his rival; the inverse of his red and black, sky-blue accents her pristine white armor, bringing out the vibrant red orange of her flowing hair. They've been at ends with one another for years, unaware of their history before the Crusades. She had the ability to control those below her, commanding Gears without wills of their own—except one. He wasn't like the rest. If anything, he was the only one that would never obey.

It's the end.

He breaks the tense silence, tightening his grip around the Fireseal. ''Alright," he readies himself to begin. "Let's settle this already."

She takes this as a sign, only whipping her tail against the crimson and gold carpet they're standing on. One of her claws clenches into a fist, and she locks eye contact with him. She tunes out the faint echo of a voice telling her not to.

"?…era uoy kniht I ohw …uoy erA"

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course, he isn't! He died a long time ago!"

".mih gnithgif htiw hguorht og t'nod ,esaelP .kool resolc a ekaT"

Neither wastes time from that point on. Their showdown starts with both parties rushing at one another. Justice reaches ahead, taking notice of how Sol's drawn his sword back. He suddenly stops in his tracks, gives himself distance by hopping backward, and starts his offense. There's a small magic glyph that appears beneath his feet, acting as a platform. He leaps forward, barely missing connecting with a fiery kick. She evades by a hair; the sole of his kicking shoe scrapes against her armor.

Her tail wraps around his leg, tugging him aside and causing him to lose his footing. She seizes the opportunity to swipe one of her claws—he breaks free in time by punching a weak point. "Crafty."

"Wouldn't call it that." He elbows the center of her torso before spinning around, piercing the floor, sending small pillars of fire in her direction. "Gun Flame!"

"Predictable!" She side-steps to dodge, opting to counter by extending the index and middle digits for a poke. The tips meet the flat end of the blade before retracting; her next move was another tail whip in the form of a low backflip. She wasn't close enough for a hit, nor far away for a complete whiff. Remaining in a crouching position, it pierces the floor behind her, emerging in front and aimed in his direction.

Akin to a boxer weaving in and out of the path of an opponent's punches, Sol evades the multiple attempts of the tip of Justice's tail trying to connect. After a count of three, he closes the distance, crouches, and slashes upward with the brunt end. "That all you got?"

"I'm just getting started," Justice's eyes seemed to illuminate along with the Gear mark. Fighting past her hindrances, she stands upright, raising her left hand across her form. A crackle of lightning from her appendage signifies her next attack's ready—she horizontally swings at the upper area of his chest. The nails graze his flesh, cutting the belt from his vest and the fabric of his shirt; a mere centimeter more would've left him with an open wound. There's a jolt of energy that ran through his body, stimulating his nerves and making him involuntarily tense up. It doesn't last long as he's back to normal after a few moments pass. Raising her right high above her head, she chops downward; she missed, failing to see he'd crouched down to sweep at her feet. "What the—!?"

Sol smirks at how late she was to react, falling backward. "I can't be that hard to miss." His enemy's eyes narrowed before the leg closest to his head kicked him aside. Said limb's foot morphed into a claw shape, latching on to him, and applying near-crushing pressure to pierce the surface. Had it not been for the fact it grabbed the side of his face—his cheek was what the central point of the makeshift weapon pressed against—the nasal bone would've been broken, with the surrounding cartilage suffering damage. One of the tips cracks the device; any lower and she would've gouged one of his eyes out. "Shit!" He hits the pommel against her calf, causing her to release him.

Both regain their footing, feeling the rapidly healing damage they've dealt to one another. "Good to see your skills haven't dulled since then." He doesn't verbally respond; his furrowed brows were obscured by his headband. She shifts the fight from grounded to semi-aerial, jumping with a boost from the thrusters on her shoulders. Her body's oriented to lean forward; her arms are crossed in front, anticipating an attack.

He's quick to act. The end of the Fireseal ignites in time, with Sol preparing to disrupt her mid-way. "Volcanic Viper!" She's faster on the draw—her hands swat the weapon in one direction, with the user in another. "!"

Justice lands performing a handstand—her body leans backward, allowing her feet to touch the ground before she stands back up. She watches Sol regain his balance after his shoes skid across the floor. It's assumed he's bearing through a headache in addition to normal pain based on his hand placement in tandem with him shaking his head. "You remain my favorite adversary," she catches him shooting a glare, "but this has gone on for too long!" Loud whirring and jets of steam emit from the vents, alongside bright red energy charging up in front of her. "Let's end this now!" Her Imperial Ray fires without warning; it starts angled downward, moving in an upward arc motion. Noticeably faster than her other one, the ray misses the target. He dashes to safety, leaving it to hit and destroy one of the stone arches that border them. Refusing to leave it at that, she fires three more times, chasing the man who's running across the perimeter. Sol keeps his distance and speed, evading each additional attack along the top step of the first flight, until he's right behind her. "You little—!"

"Four isn't your number." He's too close for her to defend herself. "But all I need is one." He drags the blade along his left before slashing up and launching a projectile spiral of fire. "Tyrant Rave!" She tanks the direct hit, momentarily becoming dizzy prior to snapping out of it. Once her vision clears, he relocates to the halfway point between her and the other arch she hasn't destroyed. His breathing and stature have stabilized—rarely does he put this much effort into a scrap.

A voice—it's that of a woman's—speaks from the recesses of his memory.

"Gears are evil!"

"Why?"

"Because they are the embodiment of mankind's sins. That's why I must eliminate all Gears."

"In that case, what about you? Which one are you?"

Sol's rage gets the better of him, evidenced by his illuminated, iris-less eyes. He completely avoids the Gamma Ray Justice sent forward—it destroys the pillar behind him and causes the entire structure to crumble. One of his irises reappears with a slit pupil as he sucker-punches her stomach area with enough force to knock her down.

Her tail acts as a makeshift balance, granting her some time to prevent herself from falling back. She's at her limit, dropping to a kneel as opposed to resuming. He stands above her, hair obscuring his eyes. "Again… Will I lose to you yet again! Why!? Why must every time we face each other, it ends in a draw!? Why won't you die!"

"I went easy on you."

"Fool! I don't need your pity!"

"It's not. I know you're not at full power, so, I made it fair."

Justice bangs her fist down, tail slamming behind her and leaving a dent on the flooring. "Half capacity or not, that isn't a good reason to hold back!" The fracture on the suppressor grows, crawling upwards with smaller ones diverging across, until finally breaking apart. Pieces of red metal fall to the floor, revealing the emblem printed on his forehead. "That symbol… As I thought… You are one of us. A Gear. Very well! You shall become my loyal subordinate and serve me until you perish!"

He doesn't respond or move. "…."

"You…! Why do you ignore my command!?"

"Why? That's my question for you." Narrowing his eyes while the right end of his mouth curved up, he asks, "why do you think I'd listen to you? What binds us together?"

"I am the first and complete Gear! I am Type-01, the first to be fully self-aware and have a will of their own! No Gear could disobey me! My word is law!"

Sol remains quiet, turning his back to her after a few moments pass. "…I'm the prototype."

"Pro…to…type?"

"You seriously never thought there might've been one before you?" He cracks his neck to relieve the lingering tension. "We were forged by the will of greedy human beings. And so, we're nothing more than a symbol for all that's wrong with the world."

"…So, that's why…."

"...saw eman ruoy ...evila er'uoy ...emit siht lla retfA"

Hearing the armor plating scraping together, he readies the Fireseal for a counter. What catches his attention is the sudden quietness. Turning around to see the Commander remain where she was, his brows slightly rose from the sight.

Justice didn't attack after all. She's seated with her legs crossed, lowers her head, and curled her tail off to the right. "…Put your weapon down."

"What…?"

"I asked you to put your weapon down. I'm too tired to continue fighting."

Her voice sounds strangely human. Was this the bane of humanity's existence putting on a civil act to lower his guard, or did she truly mean it? Hearing his footsteps approach her, she lifts her head to find him standing in front. He lightly places the edge to the bottom of her chin, keeping her in place.

"Right… the infamous 'Prototype' won't listen to me…." Eyes lowering to the weapon, she remains quiet for a second before uttering, "go on with it."

"With what?"

"You're the victor, holding the end of your sword near my throat. Do it."

Erring on the side of caution, he slightly pulls it back to lessen the hostility. "If I wanted to, I'd have already done so." He catches Ky waking up and observing before getting himself to safety. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm not going to."

"Wh… why?" She directly faces him, asking, "do you not know what you are risking by sparing me?"

"I do, and a voice in my head's preventing me from doing so."

"A voice…?"

"Yeah. It's someone I knew before."

".airA ,flesruoy nettogrof ev'uoY"

Justice disregards any hesitation she had, rising to her feet, and begins ascending the stairs. Sol's unsure as to why she's doing this but goes against his better judgment and follows. "You know…." she begins, "I wasn't always like this. I believe I was human at one point in time. We Gears aren't naturally occurring–as you've said, we were made into these."

"Funny. So was I." The duo stops at the top, sitting down with their legs over the edge after removing the doors. "Would you believe me if I told you I was an ordinary man?"

"Heh, not in the slightest." It's starting to click somewhere in Justice's memories. The chats they used to have in-between classes when they were students. Nights they'd spend watching the stars, asking absurd questions like if there's life out there in the void of space. That is, if they weren't cooped up in a lab working into the twilight hours. "You… seem familiar…."

"Do I?"

"Somehow, yes." She thinks of a test, humming the introduction of a theme song he knew before singing.

"Even though clear blue winds
Beat on the door of my heart,
You just smile, looking straight at me."

He picked up on it; that was something she used to do. "Too involved in yearning for
Something to hold on
The innocent eyes still know nothing of fate yet."

"But someday, you will notice
On those shoulders of yours
There are strong wings."

"To guide you to the far future."

"That's one down…." Her suit could've passed for one of the various models of the next. "Here's another."

"You! Run!
You're still burning will rage
If the fighting spirit is in your nature
The powerful enemy
Attacks, attacks, attacks
The rage of justice!"

"You! Shout!
You're still sinking into despair
If you're certainly sad
Dispel the fear
Go on, go on, go on
The swirling tide of blood!"

"If your love still trembles
In your heart and nature
That yearns for peace
Fly, fly, fly
Towards the Milky Way!"

"I know that one. It's the theme for MS-0079. A genre classic." Mentioning one of her favorite franchises brought him a sense of nostalgia; the evidence is his fond smile. "My late wi— partner always enjoyed science fiction, as did our mutual friend." Referring to that man as a friend left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Who would've been my hus— ah, I don't think I can refer to him as such…." She quietly laughs to herself, deeming the idea that she was in a relationship before as an asinine concept. "I once knew a man who was the same. If we did know each other before the Wars, I feel like we had an entirely different way of life."

"Seconded."

"…Okay, last test. It must be you if you can complete this one." Justice begins humming third a tune, eventually starting with, "a voice from behind me reminds me
Spread out your wings; you are an angel
Remember to deliver with the speed of light."

"A little bit of love and joy."

"Everything you do bears a will
And a why and a wherefore."

"A little bit of love and joy."

"In each and every soul
Lies a man and very soon
He'll deceive and discover
But even 'till the end of his life
He'll bring a little love."

She raises her hands to make gestures while singing; her tail begins wagging. "I reign with my left hand, I rule with my right
I'm lord of all darkness, I'm Queen of the night
I've got the power
Now do the march of the black Queen."

A smile appears as he's also getting into the singalong. "My life is in your hands, I'll fo and I'll fie
I'll be what you make me
I'll do what you like."
In a rare display of joy, he's openly smiling as he's getting into the impromptu karaoke session. He faces her, singing, "I'll be a bad boy. I'll be your bad boy
I'll do the march of the black Queen."

"Walking true to style
She's vulgar, 'buse, and vile
Fie-fo the black Queen, tattoos all her pies

She boils, and she bakes, and she never dots her i's
(She's our leader!)"

The mechanical frame shifted in his vision from a suit of armor to a feminine human body. Petite, no older than her mid-twenties, and wearing an outfit he vividly recalls. It's a grey sleeveless blouse, a black pencil skirt, and a pair of sheer leggings paired with half-inch heels. Her hair remained the same length as it was now, tied up in a ponytail. "Your name when you were human… was it Aria?"

"It was. Is yours…." From his unchanged appearance after nearly two lifetimes, what solidified her suspicions was how he can continue the song, in conjunction with knowing her original name. The man seated next to her changed from his current clothing to a lab coat, a lilac button-up shirt, and black slacks and shoes. His hair became shorter—albeit still messy—and a pair of glasses appeared over his eyes. "It can't be you. You were reported dead since 2016… but… here you are." If their creator were here, she'd demand answers as to what truly happened on conversion day. "…Frederick…?"