MEGA MAN X: END OF A DREAM
By Erico
CHAPTER TEN: FIGHTING ON CLOUD NINE
Zero was running over a green grassy field. The wind blew softly around him, causing the tall blades to shimmer. The sun beat down softly, giving heat but not deadly rays. With his hair whipping in the breeze, Zero took a powerful breath, smelling the life around him. And there on the other side of the field stood another figure, with pink and blue clothing, and long brown hair.
Iris! Zero took a look around. Why would Iris be here? Iris was dea…was he dead?! Zero thought to himself. He slapped himself, but felt no pain. His face brightened into a smile. He was in heaven, his spirit passed on. No more fighting, no more bloodshed, no more Sigma. He began to jog towards his lost love, then broke out into a run. Iris too began to trot towards him, her arms open, a smile of joy on her face, a hauntingly beautiful laugh accompanying it. Zero ran closer.
"Iris!" he called out. Iris laughed again, then they met in the field. Embracing each other, Zero closed his eyes as his arms held Iris in a hug. "Iris, are we dead?"
"Not yet, Zero." Iris's voice vanished. Zero's eyes opened in surprise. He looked down, but instead of seeing Iris, he saw a grim smiling face of evil on her body.
"NOO!!!" Zero cried out as he jumped away. Iris's frame vanished, as one of Sigma, tall evil and dark overcame him.
Zero shot up from his hard cot, only to be slapped back down to the floor roughly. Voices in the dozens laughed as he focused back to reality. Sigma stood above him, laughing heartily with the rest.
"Oh, Zero. Dozing off again, are we? We can't have that. Dreaming of Iris again, eh?" Zero's eyes became wide with anger and an intense rage of hopelessness.
"It was so much fun to watch her die by your very own hands. A reploid will do so much to appease her alliance. I gave her one simple choice; either she fought you, or I killed her. And you took care of the second option for me!" Sigma laughed again, but Zero finally snapped.
Somewhere deep within his circuitry lay a part of him that had been forged since his very creation…the heart of the Maverick Virus. Now for once, Zero had lost control of it. It had always been a problem for him, but he had never known what it was until a few days ago, when Sigma revealed the truths of his past. A mighty river, overflowing with rage and a pure anger had been dammed up long ago. But Sigma, by causing Zero to go mad with Iris's past had pushed a few hundred crates of dynamite underneath the dam and blew it up.
"YAAAHHH!!!" Zero screamed. His vision went blurry, then his mind went blurry as well. All reasonable, logical though vanished from his mind as a very simple protocol was instilled in him. Destroy.
Zero leaped from his bed, bouncing off the ceiling, then crashing back down and smashing Sigma against the ground. His hand snaked behind the stunned maverick and grabbed Sigma's beam saber. Clicking it on, Zero turned into a pure madman, waving the saber around viciously, slicing every reploid within his sight. Kill all that moves, is what the program said to him. And Zero, having lost all semblance of himself in his uncontrollable rage followed it blindly. The blood, purple, green and yellow, every color of vital reploid fluid splattered against the walls. Within seconds, Zero had destroyed ten mavericks. And only Sigma, Vile and one other remained. Sigma turned to the third maverick and shouted out an order.
"Get to the main control room and LOCK THIS PLACE DOWN!" the maverick nodded his head, then ran out of the tunnel. Zero saw the running coward and charged at him, his saber raised for the devastating slash that awaited him But Vile saw the move coming and charged in the way of the frenzied Pheonix of Death. Zero saw only another target popping up in front of him, and so in all of his simple wisdom, he swung his blade and lopped off Vile's head. The body fell to the ground with a crash, and the loose helmet rolled for a while. Then the entire thing blew off from overheating, revealing to all in the room that underneath Vile's helmet lay…nothing.
Vile was an empty shell of himself. He had not always been that way. In fact when he was a part of the Maverick Hunters with Sigma, he was often considered to be a bronze god, with purple armor and a contrasting mane of orange, a straight jaw and a powerful upper body frame. But during a maverick mission, Vile's head was seriously injured. Unbeknownst to anyone at Maverick HHQ but Sigma, Vile with the aid of his leader transferred his mind into the simple framework of a helmet that would indicate to people he had something to hide. When in fact, he had…nothing to hide. This bizarre sight caused Zero to stall for a brief moment, his logic circuits trying to re-establish themselves in his primary memory banks. But the maverick fury would not be uprooted so easily, and his virus fought back. Just then, Sigma taking the opportunity of Zero's glitch smashed Zero across the room, causing him to smack sickly against the wall. This immense blow was enough to jar the maverick fray form his mind as the pain flooded into it. Zero's eyes blinked, losing the deadened blackness and retaking their customary green color. Sigma came over and punched him out again, taking his beam saber in the process. Zero's eyes fluttered, then shut as his body slept once more. Sigma dumped the sleeping demon on his bed, then walked over to the door, just now shutting. Sigma rolled underneath it, then got up and walked over to the maverick he had given the instructions to. The maverick looked up fearfully, but all Sigma did was give him a look of pure hatred.
"We just lost Vile. And I would wager that before we break him, many more will perish." The maverick stared back at him with a look of defiance.
"You think that we will follow you now??! You have sent off our friends to be killed by him! I will not take orders from a person who would waste his group's lives so blindly. What you are giving us is nothing more than GENOCIDE." Sigma's eyes flared up and he unsheathed his blade. With a mighty swing, he drove the blade right down the center of his opponent. Everyone in the control room turned and looked at him. Sigma picked up the microphone and accessed every speaker in the maverick base.
"Now you listen to me. You see now what insubordination brings. I would not recommend it. And as for genocide, you are NO WORSE OFF than if you were to run out into the streets and try to overtake the Maverick Hunter Base itself!" A lone maverick raised his hand and spoke timidly.
"Then why did our 8 best fighters leave to wreak havoc if they are doomed?" Sigma turned his head and fired a powerful plasma blast from his forehead. The explosion from the speaker splattered everyone with tiny bits of reploid.
"I sent them out as a distraction. Zero is the key here! If we can turn him back into a maverick like he first was, then he will be unstoppable! We are nothing more than pawns in his chess game! We are worthless. It is his transformation that is important. If I die by his hands, then I die. AND IF ANY OF YOU THINK OTHERWISE, YOU WILL DIE NOW." The room cowered in fear. Sigma sighed, putting his saber back in his holster.
"Keep an eye on him. I want him in the training room with Gravity Beetle when he wakes up." Sigma turned and walked to his quarters, a smile of desperation and utter hopelessness on his face. My life is worthless. I sorely hope that Zero will destroy me, when he turns maverick.
X groaned. Where was he? He sat up, and a calm hand grabbed him by the shoulder. X blinked through his sluggish eye shutters, trying to focus. But he didn't need to; he could tell it was Bastion.
"Hey, X. You took a lot more punishment than I thought! You've been out for three days straight!" X shook his head. He noticed that his Golden Hyper armor had been taken off, and that only his basic set lay on him. Dr. Cain walked in and smacked X on the head with his cane.
"Oww!" X cried out, instantly reaching to protect his cranium Cain smacked his hand. X whipped it around furiously. Cain laughed.
"Well, his motor controls are fine!" X grabbed his cane and broke it in half.
"You have a funny way of testing, Doc." Cain picked up the broken pieces and scowled at X.
"That was my best stick, X."
"Yeah, and you keep hitting me with it!" Bastion finally separated them with a mighty sweep of his arm.
"Lay off, Doc. X here is still recovering." Dr. Cain nodded his head.
"X, your entire right arm was nearly severed from your torso. Not to mention the common bruises you suffer. I had to work an entire twelve hour shift to get your arm back in working condition. And what do you do??? YOU BREAK MY STICK!" X chuckled.
"So, get another one. Where's Fluid Ferret?" Cain's smile of rivalry vanished.
"The maverick in question is being held in the interrogation room. He's chained, and with his teeth filed down as well as his claws, he can't break free. I suggest since you are still woozy from your encounter with him, you should do the minor work today." X seemed miffed. Bastion pounded him on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, X. While you're playing twenty questions, I'll be skewering Albatross. It seems another of the eight has come up. Airborne Albatross is messing things up at the International Spaceport." The ISP was the main link for space travel, and it was crucial for space colonies in the outer rim of the Sun's reach that the supplies carried by the transports from there arrived to them, or they would perish. They had originally thought about sending reploids, but when the First Maverick Uprising occurred, they botched that plan. So common humans were up there. X pulled out his Sub-Tank from his Chest Compartment and handed it to Bastion.
"Here, then. Take your Tank back. You'll need it more than I will." Bastion laughed softly.
"Yeah. Unless of course, weasel boy has acidic spit!" X blinked at Bastion oddly. Bastion finally waved his hands around. "Ahh, I'm kidding." X shook his head. With all of the crazy reploid designs some people came up with, there was no telling what a reploid had, ability-wise.
Bastion saluted X proudly, then ran out of the door. X turned to Cain, who was whimpering and trying to put his walking stick back together. X smiled, then headed out the door and down the hall…to the interrogations room.
Fluid Ferret was in stasis mode, trying to conserve his strength. The blows he had received three days ago had been patched up and fixed by the medical personnel on base, but seeing as they wanted him to be unable to escape, they had not given him a complete energy recharge. So he down at about 50% power. Just then , the heavy metal door of his room clanked open. Fluid raised his head slowly, to see X staring at him. The door shut, and then they were alone. X bored his eyes in on the maverick.
"You made quite a mess back in Antarctica. By the way, Bladed Beaver was destroyed." Fluid crossed his arms and stretched back.
"Not my problem. He dies, he dies." X shook his head. He knew that Fluid Ferret was a fierce warrior, but was he also unaffected by loss?
"How can you say that? One of your people was killed, and all you can do is yawn like someone squashed a bug?!" Fluid smiled.
"My, my. Aren't WE the sentimental one? No wonder I almost defeated you, X. You are weak in the mind. You lack the warrior's mindset, and THAT…is why you continually lose. If it hadn't been for your pesky friend in the tank, you'd be pushing up daisies. Or existing as an ashtray." X had to hold himself back from striking Fluid Ferret. He was obviously trying to goad X into making the first move. X sat down.
"Moving on, Weasel boy. Now as I understand it, you are aware of the mavericks' hidden base. Where is it at?" Ferret raised his hands, chained together and smiled broadly.
"Every babe on the block knows I'm where its at, man." X simply stared at him coldly. He stood up and walked towards the door.
"All right. Play your mindgames. But one way or another, you'll talk." X pounded on the door. And as he walked out, Fluid Ferret leaped to his feet and shouted a phrase that made X grimace.
"Jailbirds don't squawk!"
Bastion's bright beam smashed into the ground at Cape Canaveral, reforming into his usual dapper orange self. Pulling out his beam saber, he took a practice swing with his technique, the Whirling Slasher. Bastion put it away and looked south of him.
Cape Canaveral was once the home of NASA, the US space and explorations program. But it, along with every other space program assimilated into the United Earth Space League(UESL.) Now this ancient site, the one where thousands of shuttle launches had occurred was the home of the ISP. And hgh above circled Airborne Albatross, keeping watch. Bastion dropped to the ground and scanned the horizon. He could see several Hawk Armored Tanks flying about, keeping watch. And it seemed that they were setting up explosives beneath the main shuttle runner. Shuttle did not simply lift straight off and waste fuel as they had before, now they were shot like a bullet by electromagnetic rails. When they were speared into the air, the main turbojets kicked in and continued the momentum. When they reached the upper atmosphere, rocket boosters took over. All in all, they saved about two million credits each launch by following this procedure. But if the main runner with its rails were to be sabotaged, the costs of repairs would spiral upwards and suddenly begin another drop in the International Debt. Bastion lifted his arm with the connected comm and spoke into it.
"Maverick HHQ, this is Bastion. I'm at the site. Tell my squadron to come on down, but have them come prepared. Each troop with a Sub-Tank. And bring the demolitions kit as well. They're setting up a nasty boom-boom." Bastion clicked his comm off and then began to run towards his goal; Airborne Albatross.
X was in Cain's office again, for something had happened during his last mission, and he didn't know what. Cain hobbled in on a new stick, his old one hopelessly splintered in two. X looked up and stared at him.
"Hey Doc, can I talk to you?" X asked. Cain nodded. X rarely asked to speak to people, and when he did that meant something big was troubling him. Cain sat down and lay his walking stick against his desk and propped his foot up.
Cain's foot had been injured at the beginning of the First Maverick Uprising, when a large part of their computer systems at the base was blown apart by Launch Octopus and crashed on his leg. Only by incredible medical knowledge did the doctors manage to save his battered extremity, and even then it had lost a good part of it's function. So now Cain was forced to rely on a walking stick to get around.
"When I was losing to Fluid Ferret, something odd happened to me. I think I had a near-death experience." X said. Cain sat up straight.
"You're kidding, right X? Reploids can't have those…can they?" X nodded his head.
"My entire existence flashed before my eyes, from when you awoke me to the last moments when Fluid Ferret was gnawing on my arm. And then a figure appeared and spoke to me. But I knew him, and he knew me." Cain rolled his fingers on the oaken desk.
"Who was it?" X paused, then shut his eyes and began again.
"It was Mega Man." Cain uttered an incredible "HUH?" and slipped out of his chair, falling on the floor. X continued, oblivious to Cain's surprise.
"He told me to get up and fight, that if I didn't many more would suffer." Cain whistled as he got back up, disheveled but intrigued.
"It seems you were right, X. But what you must understand is this; when a human has a near death experience and recounts it, many things are fuzzy. It could have merely been your reploid sub-conscious mind screaming for self-preservation, a self-created illusion to justify your actions. Or…you could be telling the truth." X stopped Cain.
"Did Mega Man die?" Cain shrugged his shoulders.
"Nobody knows. A little after the incident with the robot called 'King', Wily, his creations, Mega Man and his friends all disappeared. Mega Man could still be alive, or he could be dead somewhere. As it is, we'll never know. All the information I obtained from Light's lab all deal with you and your capabilities. There is no mention of Mega Man, Roll, Protoman, Rush…in short, as far as I can tell from his notes, it's like they never existed. And as for Dr. Cossack, a close friend and ally of Light's…he went into hiding. I believe he's still alive, he WAS 20 years younger than Light. When Light created you, he was pushing the grave, and his figure wasn't any slimmer. Not to mention he pipe smoked." X shut his eyes as a tear glistened down his cheek.
"In other words, there's no way for me to find out." Cain nodded.
"Unless Dr. Cossack would find you and give you the scoop, yes. He is the last link to your past. And THAT'S assuming Cossack still lives." X got up.
"If that's so, then I'll go find him." Cain stood up as well, his eyes calm but worried.
"Are you sure about this?" X grabbed Cain lightly by the shoulders.
"How would you like to not know your past, to have it only in bits and pieces? I thought I could live without it, but now I see that is not possible. Dr. Cain, if I don't follow this lead…ANY LEAD…then I have no reason to go on. Without a past, I have no future." X pulled back his hands and shifted into his Paladin armor.
"Bastion can handle things. I've taught him everything I know. And if you find Zero, you know where to reach me." Cain stood up suddenly and dug into his pocket.
"Well, if you're really going to go, take this. I use it to keep warm, something you don't need, but it might come in handy." X looked down to see Cain's hand holding the bright yellow bandanna he always kept with him. X smiled and took it.
"Thanks, doc. You take care."
And so it was that X, the first of the thinking robots left Maverick HHQ in search of his past. Dr. Cain shook his head and picked up his walking cane.
"X and Zero are gonna kill me yet. Now both of them are gone. And who's left to fight the war??? BASTION." Cain walked out of his office towards the cafeteria. He needed a cup of coffee after this.
Bastion's men had arrived on the scene, fully equipped, just like he had asked. His men although new were rigorously trained by him and X. One half were saber fighters, the other half Buster crackshots. For Bastion and the 21st Unit, this versatility meant that their group could deal with any situation. Reploids who could deflect plasma blasts were highly affected by beam sabers, and those who were saber fighters could be defeated by X-Buster users who could keep their distance.
The X-Buster's design was a part of X. Cain copied it to create the Reploid Buster, but because so many used it and because they knew its design was like X's, they just called them X-Busters, or Busters for short.
Bastion pointed to his Buster group.
"You ten will go to the shuttle ramps. Disarm the bombs and prevent the explosions at all costs." A Maverick Hunter Unit was composed of twenty men and a leader. Bastion then turned his head to the Saber Specialists.
"You will come with me. It is our job to retake the main controls of the facility and rescue any hostages. Are both groups clear on their duties?"
"YES SIR!!" Came the reply, loud and dutiful. Bastion gave a salute and the two groups split up, one heading east, the other west.
X had landed in Russia…or at least what it used to be. With the fully fledged Mars and Moon Colonies, as well as the wide array of Space Stations in orbit all over the Solar System, many people had fled the desolate life of Russia for a new life. Their economic problems were many, and their civilization fled like rats from a sinking ship. X shuddered, thankful that before 200X, the two superpowers of the US and the USSR had not started the apocalypse. If there was one thing that scared him more than localized acts of destruction, it was the widespread damage that could have been.
Now most of Russia was private lots. They had their tourist attractions like any other place, for in the future nothing was more precious than history. There were hundreds of supercomputers which stored history all around the world. Mankind was determined not to let their achievements go to waste. This bizarre step was taken because scientists realized the danger mankind held to itself. This inner aggressive quality had led to the destruction of the library at Alexandria while time was still recorded in the B.C. scale, when the Roman forces in an attempt to overpower the Egyptian fleet had sent in burning hulks to wreak havoc in the harbor. But the fire had spread and ruined all.
One of the most important tourist attractions was Dr. Cossack's abandoned but refurbished fortress. During the 4th Robot Rebellion, or 4th Wily War as it was sometimes called, Dr. Cossack had been the pawn of Wily in a scheme until his daughter was safely returned to him by the aid of Protoman. X smiled. Even back then his forefather's accomplishments were noted. And according to his internal map databank, the fortress was not far. If the answers belonged with Cossack, he would find them there.
Bastion's Buster group had run into opposition, but their training and dedication had saved them. Even the Chimera Tanks the mavericks brought against them were destroyed, pounded to scrap by the controlled fire and charge tactics the group had practiced. The bombs had been disarmed quickly and easily.
But all forces were on alert, and Bastion and his Saber group found it more difficult to reach their objective. Then a chilling cry rang out from above, and Bastion looked up to see a dark shape crashing down upon him, blocking out the sun.
"Spread out!" Bastion cried. His men moved quickly, and then it was just Bastion with his activated beam saber trying to run from it. But even with a powerful dash he could not outrun the form, and powerful talons snatched him up. Instantly, Bastion could sense that he was being pulled up to great heights in the sky. The entire ISP in all its glory could be seen, the sun, beacon of light and hope to a civilization glinting off the reflective windows. And below, his Buster group joining with his other men. Bastion almost smiled to see the efficiency at which they worked, but he held back when he realized he was in danger. In the beauty of earth, he had forgotten his own peril. That is how captivating it is from above.
Bastion looked up, for now he could clearly see what he was up against. A powerfully built figure, with a monstrous wingspan, powerful slashing and gripping talons, both wings bristling with guns and missiles of every sort. It was to the point that Bastion was unsure what this thing was.
But a voice confirmed his early suspicions.
"You screwed up our operation, Hunter. Now, you must die." Bastion laughed. The figure was none other than Airborne Albatross, the maverick leader. Albatross tightened his grip for a moment and took a powerful dive. Bastion's saber whipped fiercely in the wind, and he almost lost it. Only by sheer willpower did his weapon remain in his grasp. The maverick leader was aiming for the steel girdles and platforms far off by the waves. This was the launch platform, the only thing remaining from the age of shuttle and rocket launches. And it was old and brownish red, oxidized and brittle. Albatross released his grip and Bastion hurtled like a rocket to the mess below. Bastion gritted his teeth. Any one of those girders could snap, turning the entire mess into a maze of sharp outcroppings to rip him to shreds, and if he was lucky, a giant pile of rubble in which he would be buried.
"Gotta make this count," Bastion grunted. He would only get one shot at this. Even the simulation room could not have fully prepared him from this. "Well, here goes. I win, I become famous. I die, I'm just another loss in the Maverick Uprisings." The bitter irony and indifference of fate is often hated, and Bastion was to test it. When he came in close, he curled himself into a ball, shooting past through a hole in the girders. He pulled out his saber and unleashed a Whirling Slash that cleared the area around him of girders. What the Whirling Slash did was it relied on his dash boots to provide side thrust that would send him in a gyroscopic orbit. When he did, he turned into literally, a giant Whirling Slash. The rusted metal splintered easily, and Bastion soon found himself grasping onto a metal railing at the other side of the construction. He used his momentum and swung himself around, landing softly on the top of his slashed platform. But the metal creaked ominously, groaning under the new stress. And above, Airborne Albatross was going mad.
"How could you evade death?! NO ONE could have survived that!" Bastion grinned.
"Apparently I did." Albatross cried out in anger, and his wings reached full wingspan, shooting out like cannons. Instantly, hundreds of missiles came flying out. Some were concussion, some explosive, some energy missiles that would unleash electrical storms. And every one could kill Bastion.
There was no way to avoid it, and if he jumped down he would die in the wreckage. So if he couldn't stay, or go down…
He had to go up. Bastion slipped his saber back in its sheath and readied himself for a jump. Then, with every ounce of strength and booster power he had, he leaped from the rusting deathtrap and threw himself into the air. The first wave passed by him, close enough to make him go blind in the smoke. But Bastion realized he was falling, and he did not have anything to jump on.
"Hey, wait a minute…" Bastion mused. He reached out for a particularly large missile and snatched it. The momentum almost caused him to release his hold, but he latched onto it tightly, and it paid off. He could control the missile. Climbing on top of it, he was now surfing the air. But not for long, as this was an explosive rocket, and when it ran out of fuel or hit something it would explode. He turned the booster back around and aimed himself for Airborne Albatross. Bastion glanced down for a moment and estimated he was at 4000 feet.
Airborne Albatross turned around and stared at what was heading his way. He panicked, and fired off his jacketed steel bullet storm in haste. The missile became riddled, and Bastion gritted his teeth. He would have to jump again, or be killed with his ride. Leaping from his missile, Bastion was on a direct course for the maverick leader. Airborne Albatross tried to fire his wingguns at Bastion and destroy the threat, but to no avail. All his ammo was gone. He tried to fire a missile, but those too had long since been exhausted. So Airborne Albatross did the only thing he could; wait for his own death to occur.
It may sound ludicrous, but some warriors when they realize they are unable to fight any longer, simply wait calmly for death to occur. For the samurai and elite soldiers in the past, this was a part of their regimen. And now Airborne Albatross acted in just the same way.
Bastion's beam saber sliced viciously, exposing Albatross' vital circuitry to the air, his fluids gushing from every wound . Airborne Albatross let a small smile cross his lips as he began to fall to his death.
"I congratulate you, hunter. Your victory is well earned." The wounded maverick fell faster, his inertia dragging him beyond Bastion's reach. But his wings fell off, and due to their drag, fell slower than Albatross's main body. Bastion saw them, and reached to attain them. If he was going to land in one piece, their aerodynamic properties would be needed. With his saber turned on, Bastion took a swoop dive and snatched the empty wings. He smashed the saber's shaft down the long side of each wing, creating holes for his hands. Then he put the saber back in its holster and plunged his hands into the broken frame of his foe. He spread them out, and he could instantly feel his speed decrease.
"I just hope I remember some of that aerodynamics training." Bastion muttered as he continued his descent. Two thousand feet, fifteen hundred, one thousand, five hundred…
"THIS IS IT!!" Bastion cried out, spreading the wings to their max. His straight fall stopped as he glided on the wind, veering away from the ground and heading into a spiraling, gentle descent.
Below, the 21st Hunter Unit saw a dark shape falling from the sky.
"Who is that?" one called out in puzzlement.
"Oh no…BASTION!!!!" another screamed in horror. But his shock was unneeded, for when the shape smashed to the ground, it was the disintegrated remains of Airborne Albatross, minus the wings. Everything had been smashed into a tiny clump of metal, the intense forces of gravity and inertia having all but eliminated any possibility of identifiable wreckage.
"It isn't orange…it isn't Bastion." Another called out. All sighed in relief. Their leader was too smart to let such a fate befall him.
"HEY!!! CLEAR THE WAY!!!" a loud voice called out. The 21st Unit looked up in surprise, for there to their left was gliding softly…Bastion, their commander.
"By God, HE DID IT!!!" another called out. Instantly, the well trained Unit turned into a bunch of war-whooping fools, drunk from their success, and drunk from Bastion's survival. Bastion landed, and rolled on the ground to further decrease damage.
His men were all over him, slapping him on the back, picking him up and parading him around like a showpiece. Bastion wearily clicked his comm on and set it for the Maverick HHQ.
"Base, this is Bastion. Objective secured. ISP is bomb-free, and the mavericks have been eliminated. And tell Hazil I may need some sedative after this one." ON the other end, Cain chuckled.
"Good for you, Bastion. It's good to see that someone is living up to their expectations. Hazil will give you a nice long nap in the recharge chamber, just come home. And by the way, did you happen to obtain anything of Airborne Albatross's?" Bastion looked down to see the wings still hanging from his arms.
"Yeah, just his wings. Saved my bacon, they did. But DAMN! They were packing heat before he ran out!"
"Weapons, eh?" Cain mused. "I may be able to give you something. Report back to base."
"Roger, HQ. We're coming home." Bastion said, then clicked off his comm. He turned to his men and barked out an order.
"Aww, come on guys! Put me down!"
X had undertaken a long walk but it was worth it. Checking the time, he saw it was 2:00. Perfect. He could just make the afternoon tour, for there a mile ahead stood the dark outline of Cossack's castle, the only building for miles. All else was wasteland.
"At last. Now I'll get my answers." X said, his face a stone expression. Checking the yellow bandanna which hung loosely from his neck, he set out at a jog to reach his goal.
And his answers were not far.