(A/N: a long time ago, in a fanfiction.net review I remember so well, Hypes suggested I compile all the WA3 'thoughts' fics into one. Now, I decided to do that. if you've read 'em all before, there's nothing different, but if you haven't, enjoy!)

After deux ex machina and rescuing Shane, we camp before tackling demondor pillar. Everyone but me is asleep. Even lombardia is breathing evenly and calmly, if not loudly. But then, something that big is sure not to be quiet.

The campfire looks sleepy, too, burning low and ruby-red. I lean against a rock, pull my knees up closer, and rest an elbow on one. I frown, sigh, and rest my head forward on my half-closed fist. I stare hard at my other hand.

The initial shock at discovering my origins had been buried by necessity, being less important at the time than Siegfried, the air battle with lombardia, and Shane's disappearance. But now, in the brief calm before the next battle, the confusing and shattering truth comes flooding back.

I'm often a drifter of few words, even my personal thoughts were short and to the point. But recently, I've been keeping a lot to myself. My words have been brief as always, but my thoughts, my thoughts seem endless.

Jet enduro isn't even my name. I was made as a copy of the real jet enduro.

I'm some sample project. In a sense, my creation was so linked to what we're fighting now, it makes me sick.

To think that those damn prophets had a hand in making me who I am, it makes me wonder why I never ended up on their side.

Then, I remember. Virginia's father. He took me from Yggdrasil and raised me, taught me how to use my airget-lamh and fend for myself in Filgaia. In a way, I'm really related to this world. I never quite thought of it this way before, but I'm a lot like Filgaia. We both live messed-up lives thanks to the council of seven.

I never gave anything much thought before I met them.

Virginia, gallows, Clive, they're okay people, as much as I hate to openly admit it. Virginia's a little naive and a bit delusional at times, but she means well.

Gallows, well, what can I say? He's gallows. He has his own strange way of lightening an otherwise hopeless, dismal situation.

And Clive, sometimes I wonder why he tagged along. If he gets himself killed one day, then we all have to break the news to Catherine and kaitlyn. I know gallows has Halle and Shane, and Virginia has her aunt and uncle, but they don't have a little kid.

I used to wonder exactly why I stuck with them; I thought they were all crazy, overly sentimental, and completely incompatible with me. But after we stuck it out together a few times, I got used to it. And now...

We're all strangely connected by our pasts, and here we are weaving our futures together. Now look, here I am thinking like Clive. Sometimes I think his attitude kinda rubs off on me, almost like a father to a son.

I feel kind of disappointed. I half-hoped that I would find out my past, discover that I was some lost son of some surviving drifter, then tag along with my old man and have somebody to depend on in the endless wasteland. But it wasn't meant to be. The only thing even close to my parents is the council of seven. Which is a little okay, I guess, Werner Maxwell isn't such a bad guy, but the prophets, ugh, I can't stand that.

And so, my solitary life has gone on up until that day on the train. It feels like it's been years, but it's actually only been a few months.

Something makes a grunting noise. I snap out of my thoughts. In the dim firelight, I can see Virginia roll over, and gallows, too. Virginia mutters something I can't make out, and God, gallows begins to snore. That's the kind of noise that goes on for miles.

It hits me: my fantasy of finding my father, I found it with these guys. I tagged along with drifters, and I've always been able to depend on them.

Another thing I don't like to admit, they've saved my butt lots of times, and I've saved theirs, too. It's hard for me to believe, after about ten years of living alone, but I really have somebody I can count on. This is as close to family as I'm gonna get.

Even if I'm not really jet enduro, if all I am is the Filgaia sample, some theory project of that council, I'll take what that gave me and stop whoever's responsible with it.

I took aim with my airget-lamh against Janus, but he was a puppet, the prophets, but they were more delusional than Virginia, and Siegfried, but he's not an issue now. There's still trouble on the horizon, apparently deeper-rooted than we all thought.

But regardless of everything, our enemy, my origins, or any other damn obstacle that tries to push us back, I'll draw ARMS with my friends against any who get in the way.

Yes, friends. I realize that now, even thought I tried to convince myself otherwise for so long.

As a team, we're too strong together to be stopped now.