The Second Renaissance

Part Two: Pentacle

III. Shine

If you need to leave the world you live in,
Lay your head down and stay awhile;
Though you may not remember dreaming,
Something waits for you breathe again...

-Evanescence, Imaginary (Origin)

-

Van's fingers trailed along centuries-old dust, faint markings marring the surface of a thick coat of sandy grit. His scuffing steps echoed through the huge hall, sunlight streaming in between the supporting columns. Golden motes of disturbed dust danced in the bright beams of light, making the ruins seem to be a silent wonderland, irreparably separated from the city of Guygalos, bustling below. The shadow of the Imperial palace loomed to the north.

The separated effect was suddenly amplified as the corridor opened into an overgrown courtyard, tropical vegetation spilling over the stone walls and creeping along the lush ground. Bright birds flitted from invisible holes in the stone, twittering shrilly, and equally bright flowers opened soft faces to greet them. Van stood still for a moment, letting his eyes trail over the greenery, and then stopped at the sight of a tucked-away corner, littered with bright markers, amid flowering vines that threatened to bury them.

He sighed and shook off other, much older memories of similar ancient sites, and started over to the area, disturbing bright clouds of pollen and digging in his pocket for the papers he knew to be there. Doctor D himself had shoved them onto him, claiming he needed to search for "clues," like some old, bad mystery vid. He strongly suspected that it was a bad excuse to get him out of the base.

The wide corner looked nonchalant enough, no different from the rest of the quad, other than the markers. He felt like an intruder on creation, marring the surface of these sepulcher-like grounds. Nevertheless, he pulled the crudely folded file from his back pocket and hesitantly cleared his throat. In a low voice, he began to read aloud.

"Kenia: family of four." Two children.

"Found dead approximately 120 hours ago." Murdered. "In the, uh, Ista ruins." This very place.

"Cause of death...rogue zoid." Van raised his troubled gaze to that same corner of the courtyard again. He studied the ground, as though he might see the impressions of the nameless zoid's footsteps on the lush grasses; see human blood spilled mercilessly to stain the lily-white flowers littering the ground. The joyous warbling of nesting birds faded away to screams of terror and pain, in grief of a slain loved one, cries to any savior that may exist...

The faint and obnoxious blare of a car horn jerked Van from his thoughts, and he drew his unfocused gaze to the open archways of the nearby hall. With grim surprise, he realized that traffic was being held up by the last tame zoid on the planet.

His eyes still dark with emotional pain, Van muttered, "He's here." Shaking his head, he stuffed the tragic file back into his pocket and started back the way he'd come. Doctor D was expecting Zeke in for tests, and this was going nowhere fast.

-

Moving Zeke down to the base proved to be more easily said than done. When Van found him, he was still curled, motionless, on the floor of the apartment, indifferent to the world. He may as well have been a rock.

Van stared at him a moment, then nudged him with his foot. "Hey, Zeke?"

No response.

A harder nudge, this time. "Zeke. Get up."

The organoid's scarlet optic lens glittered briefly, but then it went dark again.

Van's eyebrows shot down, and he growled, "Zeke. Enough of this. I mean it. Get. Up. Now." When even this didn't elicit a response, he drew back his foot, ready to do whatever was necessary to get the mourning zoid to rise.

As Van's foot came within a few inches of Zeke's side, the organoid suddenly hissed in a very un-Zeke-like way. Van froze, his boot in midair, and cracked a grin at the sight of Zeke begrudgingly dragging himself to his feet. "Come on, buddy, let's go."

Ten minutes later, Van was walking backwards down the sidewalk, coaxing Zeke along. The organoid silently followed his master's hands, which always hovered about a foot from his snout. Step by slow step, they made their way down the sunny streets of Guygalos. Van never took his eyes from Zeke's, not noticing any stares they received. The important thing was that he was moving, at least. It was, perhaps, the first time in almost four days.

Long before Van turned to catch sight of Inea base, the shadow of the Di-Bison fell across him. The unnatural shade startled Zeke into shooting his head up from its listless posture to stare intently at the zoid, which was parked outside an open hangar. Van paused and followed his gaze, taking in the gleaming metal plates, the orange glass of the canopy, glittering in the afternoon sun...he sighed, patting Zeke on the neck.

"I know, Zeke. I know." He applied slight pressure to the organoid's neck, guiding him away from the Di-Bison and into the huge hangar. As they passed the zoid, though, he couldn't help but notice that intense heat still radiated from its hooves. Thomas hadn't been in Guygalos long. Van grimaced. I miss the Liger...

The hangar was full to bursting with technicians, all of whom seemed eager for something to do. The Di-Bison was not short on attention–that was for sure. The smell of grease and, oddly enough, electricity, pervaded the overly warm air.

Doctor D met them just inside the door, his long silver hair bouncing as he jogged up. "You're late!"

"Don't care."

D scowled at him. "Just shut up, would you? We were expecting you almost an hour ago."

Van rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Doctor D ignored his insolence and turned to scan the crowd of technicians. Apparently spying the one he needed, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Lana! He's finally here!" One of his female assistants waved back, and jogged over, a collar in hand.

His bad mood temporarily forgotten, Van blinked. "Hey, wait, is that for–"

"Zeke?" D shot him an odd glance. "Well, yeah, what else would we use?" It seemed logical enough...but he felt a pang of uneasiness.

Lana stopped in front of D, and her dark hair swished attractively over her shoulder. She gave the Doctor a smile. "Should I take him on down to our lab?" Doctor D nodded, and she unclipped the collar. "I'll be back up here after I do," she explained over her shoulder.

Van watched, hardly breathing, as she slowly encircled her arms around Zeke's thick neck and refastened the collar. Zeke was motionless and cooperative, and followed the woman when she tugged gently on the leash attached to the collar. He gave his master a glance, but Van just waved. "See you in a little bit, buddy."

He and Doctor D watched Lana and Zeke go for a moment, but the old man finally turned to him. "See? Zeke's going to be fine. There's nothing to be worried about."

Van shrugged. "I guess. I'm not worried."

"Liar. Of course you are."

Van turned to see Thomas, and scowled. "You didn't have to come, you know. We were perfectly fine here without you." With that, he turned and stalked darkly away.

D sighed, watching him go, and then turned to Thomas, whose teeth were grinding audibly. "Don't go after him."

He looked surprised. "Why not?"

The Doctor shook his head ruefully and started back to the control panel for the Bison's systems. Thomas trailed behind. "Because. Nothing good would come of it, and he's just under a lot of stress. That, and he's more immature than you are, et cetera." He darted another glance to Thomas's face. "So...don't. Besides, I still need you here." He gestured at the computer screen in front of them.

The lieutenant shrugged, bringing up a visual representation of the Di-Bison's power supply. "Fine, but he does need some tough love, don't you think?"

D ogled the diagram for a minute, and then asked, "How much of that is supported by Beke?" He shook his head. "And no, I think he just needs to get over it. It's all because of Fiona, you know that?"

"Right now? Approximately...85 percent, give or take a bit. See, Beke has to keep the zoid from getting up and leaving. My batteries were almost totally fried when I got here two hours ago." He cracked a smile. "Of course it's about Fiona. She usually checks him–so now he's a loose wire without her."

D gave him a curious look. "Speaking of which, aren't you worried about her?"

Thomas shrugged. "Not really." D gaped at him. "Well, I mean, she's, ah, left before. Remember the whole 'turning into light' thing? She came back then, and I trust that she'll come back this time."

D thought for a moment. "That's true. I hadn't thought about it like that." Finally, he just shook his head. "I hope you're right."

"Me, too."

-

Contrary to Doctor D's well-meaning advice, Thomas did seek Van out, eventually. Brooding wasn't healthy, after all. He eventually found him in a spare computer room. All the screens were dark, and Van was staring blankly at a map of the Western Continent, as if he was waiting for something to jump out as an answer.

Thomas leaned against the doorframe and waited. When he went unnoticed for half a minute, he cleared his throat. Van's head shot up, but then his eyebrows went back down at the sight of his partner.

"What do you want?"

Thomas gritted his teeth, remembering Doctor D's words. He's under stress...more immature... "Just...coming to see what you were doing, is all."

Van eyed him, laying his arms across the map in what seemed like an attempt to hide it. "It's nothing."

Thomas sighed. "Are you going to look for her?"

"No." Van's eyes betrayed him.

Thomas gave him a worried look. "Van, you'll probably have to narrow down your search a bit more than the entire continent. Fiona could be anywhere."

"Yeah? I don't see you looking."

"You're being selfish! We're probably going to have an entire war on our hands–the humans against the zoids. We're not going to stand a chance unless everyone helps."

Van looked scandalized. "So, what? Fiona isn't important anymore?"

Thomas sighed in exasperation. "Of course she is, but if we don't win this war, then you won't be around to look for her at all!"

Van looked coldly at him. "I don't care. We need her, and I will find her."

Finally, Thomas snapped. It was too much–Van's stubborn resistance, his insistent desire to stay in his own little idealistic world. "You don't care? You have to care, Van! And Fiona? She could be dead, did you think about that!"

Van froze. The silence stretched out between them, becoming deafening. Finally, he gave Thomas a look that was probably previously reserved only for Raven. On the receiving end of this expression, he realized that he had probably said very much the wrong thing.

-

Doctor D looked irritably at Van. At the moment, he needed a formal report, and the lieutenant looked like he would rather be scrubbing the mess hall. Of course Thomas wouldn't listen to his helpful advice, and of course his temper would get the better of him. It was Murphy's Law: if something could go wrong, it most definitely would. And it had.

"Are we done yet?" He met Van's insolent gaze, and felt the abrupt urge to strangle the boy. No...it is just beginning. Unfortunately.

D finally collected his thought, and managed to look gravely at Van, who seemed quite apathetic. "Please, Van, we have to know this stuff."

"Know what, exactly?"

He sighed. "The way Fiona...left," he ignored Van's wince, "was definitely not natural. We need more information so that we can find out what, exactly, happened."

Van narrowed his eyes. "I don't really think that she could tell me much right before it happened."

After a long moment, D prompted, "Why not?"

Van stood sharply, slamming his hands onto the desk. "Because she was drugged up," he growled through clenched teeth.

The old man sighed, burying his head in his hands. "Van, please calm down. I really mean it. Fiona's a bright girl. I think that she would have been able to keep her presence of mind through that–astonishingly large–dose of morphine." He raised his eyes. "Am I right?"

Van clenched his teeth, glaring grey daggers at the old man. Doctor D matched his scowl almost perfectly, and, after a moment, Van sank back into his seat, his interlocked fingers supporting his chin. He started harshly, hesitantly, "She...she kept saying...that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Over and over again. Kept asking that I not leave her alone. But..." He relaxed, and lowered his head to rest against the desk. "I did anyway. I thought she was still sick."

After a quiet pause, he added miserably, "I'm an idiot."

Doctor D stared at the young lieutenant sadly. "Van, you're not an idiot," he began. Very close, but not quite. "You thought the exact same thing anyone else would have. There isn't any blame to pass around. You can't...blame yourself for something no one could have predicted."

At this, Van stiffened, and his head shot back up as he cried, "No, you don't understand! I'm supposed to be able to predict them! I've lived with Fiona for over a year–it's my job." His shoulders sagged. "She'd been acting strangely for so long...and I didn't think enough of it to say anything." He looked at D brokenly. "Can you understand that?"

D cocked his head to one side, sighing heavily. "I think...maybe I do, on a smaller scale. And yes, it is hard...but could you please not take it out on Thomas, of all people? We need to keep what is left of the Guardian Force intact."

Van managed a weak smile. "Sorry about that."

Doctor D watched him for another moment, and then said, "I think that it would really help if you...found something to occupy your time. You just need to get your mind off things. So," he stood, "do something. I don't really care what. Anything."

-

Anything. Doctor D's words looping in his mind, Van hoisted himself over the stone ledge of the roof of Inea Base. He stole a dizzying glance back down the metal rungs of the ladder, but then shook his head and stumbled a safe fifteen feet away from the edge. He sat down heavily and stared out over Guygalos. From his present vantage point, the city was laid out neatly before him, and even the Palace looked close enough to touch.

Van's gaze crept up the ornate walls of the building, and eventually, his eyes just met undiluted sky. It was a clear, bright blue that remained unmarred by clouds. It drew his gaze up and up, until he finally flopped backwards to lie spread-eagled on the asphalt. He dug around on his belt a moment, and his left hand emerged his military-issued revolver. It was still shiny from disuse. Slowly, Van drew his arm up to point straight up at the clear sky.

Van's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he pulled the trigger. The sharp crack that tore the air was oddly satisfying. He emptied the clip into the blue deep, and then let the revolver drop with a clatter to the asphalt. He sighed, closing his eyes, and sank into the heat, feeling its pressure on his chest. He lay there for a few more minutes in the pure sunlight, until the scrape of a footstep came from behind him.

"That was productive."

Without opening his eyes, he muttered, "I thought so." After another moment, he rolled over and opened his eyes to see Thomas crouching behind him, his chin in hand. "How long have you been there?"

Thomas cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Long enough to see your assassination attempt on the sky."

Van nodded, resting his chin on his arms. It was nice to see that Thomas was still speaking to him...though he had obviously waited until all the bullets had been used up before saying a word.

After a quiet moment, Thomas spoke again. "I'm sorry about what I said."

Van closed his eyes. "I know. So am I. I think...it's probably just...everything, you know?"

Thomas sat down heavily beside him. "I hate excuses." He paused. "But yes, I do understand."

Van sighed and turned his head, to rest the side of his face against his forearm. He opened one dark eye and considered the sky. "What's the plan?"

"What? Oh. Um." Thomas thought a moment. "I, uh, don't think we really have one right now. Except to wait."

"For what?"

"I dunno. For something to happen, I guess."

"That works." Van sighed again and dragged himself up. "I need to go check on Zeke. Make sure D hasn't gone overboard." He stared down at Thomas for a moment, and then extended his hand, like a silent invitation.

Thomas grinned and grabbed it, accepting just as silently.

Doctor D had claimed one of the largest open laboratories at the base, placing Zeke in the top priority. It made for a long walk to the far corner of the base, but Van and Thomas made it there in about ten minutes. The door hissed aside to reveal Doctor D, hunched over a console in front of a large glass window, and looking decidedly worried.

Van raised his eyebrows and went to stand by the old man. "What is it, Doc?"

D spared him a look, and then turned back to the scene in front of him, chewing his lip. "See for yourself. It's not...looking too good right now."

Van squinted through the glass, and his eyes took a moment to adjust. The window was made for one-way observation, and thus was heavily tinted. When he finally registered what he was seeing, though, he gasped.

Zeke and two technicians were inside, and none of them looked happy to be together. Zeke edged away from the two men, wires and cords trailing from his chest plates, like the guts of a dying animal.

"We were hooking up the sensors," Doctor D explained. "He just...stopped cooperating. Very odd." He shook his head, still muttering to himself.

Van watched for a few seconds more, and then muttered, "Call them off."

D gave him a surprised look. "What?"

"Do it." Something about Zeke's eyes...they were wrong.

"I can't do that! I need these test results."

Thomas warned, "Doctor..." But it was too late.

Zeke suddenly roared and turned sharply, his thick tail whipping through the air behind him. It caught one of the technicians at the waist, and he flew to slam into the wall. He slid to the ground to lie motionless, and blood streaked the white paint.

The other technician stared after his partner, shaken. Just as his eyes slid back over to the cornered organoid, Zeke lunged. The zoid caught the man's forearm in his jaws and clenched them tightly. The technician screamed as something crunched sickeningly, and crimson darkened his sleeve. Zeke shook his head roughly like a dog with his bone, and flung the man away. He hit the far wall cruelly, and moved no more. The organoid started over towards him, growling.

Doctor D, Thomas and Van had watched in horrified silence thus far–but Van finally moved. "I told you to call them off," he growled, whirling to race to the door. Thomas tried to grab his arm, but he shook it off and ducked inside the testing area.

Suddenly, the world was a sterile white, and the moaning technician was behind him, clutching his arm and coming to. Zeke stopped at the sight of him, a snarl growing in his throat. He looked so...wild. The blood dripping from his muzzle didn't help the illusion.

Eyes wide, Van stretched out a hand. "Hey, Zeke. Just...calm down, would you?" The organoid cocked his head to one side, considering him. It seemed like he would actually listen, but then he gave a belligerent howl, pivoting to whip his tail around.

Van yelled as it hit him across the calf-muscles, sweeping his feet neatly out from under him in a rush of pain. He hit the floor hard, and rolled. Zeke's taloned feet crashed down where his head had been seconds before. He scrambled to get up, and as if by chance, the organoid's tail clipped him across the jaw.

Cursing to himself, Van got to his feet and backed away from Zeke warily. Suddenly, rushing into the closed room with the crazed organoid didn't seem like a very intelligent idea. He darted a look to the tinted glass of the observation area, but it was hopeless. He was on his own.

His momentary loss of concentration cost him, because Zeke noticed. Roaring, the organoid charged. Van dove at the last minute, and Zeke crashed into the wall. Spidery cracks formed where he had hit. Dazed, he tottered around, searching for his opponent. Unfortunately, it seemed all his power had gone into that last charge, and smashing into the wall hadn't helped matters. Suddenly finding his legs couldn't support him, Zeke slumped against the cracked wall.

Van sidled around the fallen zoid, carefully staying out of range of his tail. Stopping at the organoid's head, he knelt and stretched out a tentative hand. When his fingers met Zeke's muzzle, the organoid relaxed with a sigh, the fight gone out of him. Van echoed his sigh, and leaned against the wall wearily.

He wiped a trickle of blood from his lip, and examined it. "Zeke, let's never do that again." The organoid groaned in reply.

Suddenly, the door to the area burst open, and Thomas stared at him, wide-eyed. "Van, what was that?"

Van frowned. "What was what?"

"You didn't see it?"

A headache pounding at his temples, Van sighed in exasperation. "I didn't see a thing, Thomas, I promise."

Thomas stared at him for a few seconds more, and then said shortly, "Come here."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

Van sighed again and patted Zeke on his head. "I'll be right back." The organoid grunted in affirmation. Van dragged himself to his feet, aches and pains becoming ever more pronounced. He limped back through the door, giving Thomas a glare on the way. Once inside, Doctor D gave him a hard look. "You didn't see it?"

"See what?" Van collapsed into one of the spare swivel chairs.

"Look." D brought up a video recording of the confrontation that had just taken place. Looking at it from a third-person view, Van had to admit it looked almost impressive–but mostly stupid. Such a bad idea. Zeke bashed his head against the wall, fell heavily...and there he was, stretching out his hand...

At the precise moment Van's hand touched Zeke's snout, there was a burst of light, as if a flash bulb had gone off. The video cut off. D and Thomas stared at him. Van shrugged wearily. "I don't know, maybe your cameras are malfunctioning."

"Van, I have the same thing on three different cameras. All of them can't be simultaneously malfunctioning."

"Well, I don't know. I'm not sure how you're going to find out, either." Suddenly, he recognized a familiar glint in the Doc's eyes, and he groaned. "Fine. Fine. Run your tests."

Ten minutes later, Doctor D had attached four different sensors to Van's arms. He held two bare wires. "This is just to narrow down what we need to do," he explained, his voice cheerful. Unnervingly cheerful. "Are you ready?"

Van sighed. "Sure, why not?"

D shrugged, and touched the two wires together–

–Paindeathhungerbloodfearpainlonelinesstorturefear–

Van gasped, his eyes wide, and scrambled to pull the suctioned sensors from his forearms. Doctor D gave him a puzzled look, and Thomas was staring. Van tried to swallow, and almost gagged. His skin was coated in chilly sweat, and his pulse was racing.

Doctor D stammered, "Y-you mean...you felt something!" Covering his face with his hand, Van nodded. He wasn't entirely sure he could talk. D went on, "Van, you weren't supposed to feel anything."

Thomas pulled the wires from the old man's fingers. "Hey, Doc? What is this metal?" It had an eerie blue sheen to it; they weren't traditional copper.

D stole a look at Van, who was the most shaken he'd ever seen. "Uh, well..." He gave Thomas a sheepish look. "Two different alloys of, um...zoid magnite." At Thomas's surprised look, he continued, "And I'm worried...because a normal human was supposed to be unaffected by that particular test. The only people who would be are..." He took a deep breath. "Reese and Fiona."

"So, what?" Van's voice was ragged. "What does that mean?"

D stared at his hands thoughtfully. "We hardly know anything about the Ancient Zoidians, seeing as how Fiona is the only cooperatively living specimen..." At Van's growl, he amended hastily, "Not that I see her as a specimen, of course."

Thomas examined the wires again. "It's gene therapy."

"It's what?"

He blinked. "Gene therapy." At their blank looks, he went on, "Since you, Van, have been around Fiona so much, she's...I don't know, rubbing off on you, to put it into simple terms." He shrugged. "I guess, essentially, you're part Ancient Zoidian now."

Doctor D scowled. "It's not that easy, Thomas," he snapped, snatching back the wires.

Thomas shrugged again. "I said simple terms," he replied.

D rolled his eyes, and then turned back to Van. "Was Fiona sick recently? Like, within the past year or so?"

"Last...last winter, she got the flu." He thought for a moment. "It lasted a week, maybe less." Seven months before, Guygalos has suffered a small flu epidemic, and it had almost run its course before the vaccines arrived from New Helic. Those in the most danger were young children, but there were no fatalities.

D nodded. "And then you got sick, right?"

"No."

The old man's eyes went wide. "No?"

Van gave a tired half-shrug. "No, not really. Fiona got better before the vaccines came, and I was never really affected."

Thomas frowned. "Influenza is a highly contagious virus. Since you and Fiona were practically quarantined together, you had to have been infected. There's almost no way around it."

Van gave a sigh and another apathetic half-shrug, but D looked excited. "No, it is possible, in a roundabout sort of way. Fiona has always had a strange sort of constitution...I'm surprised that she got sick at all." Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. "She came from a different time, her immunities have to be for a different time's diseases–so stop giving me that look, Thomas."

The old man closed his eyes in thought. "When Fiona had the flu, I wouldn't be surprised if her body accidentally...modified it, having never encountered anything of the sort before. And then..." he opened his eyes and glanced at Van. "She passed the new virus on to you. Except, it wouldn't affect you the way it did her, because you're human. So I guess, technically speaking, you have an incurable virus. An Ancient Zoidian virus. Oh, that's fascinating."

Van gave the Doctor a weary look. The old man's eyes were unfocused, and he seemed mesmerized by something on the wall. Shaking his head, Van pushed himself up and stumbled out the door, muttering something over his shoulder about being back for Zeke later.

-

It was as thunderheads rolled into the capitol around nightfall that Thomas found Van in front of one of the huge sets of bay windows at the base, leaning on the support railing in front of them. The younger lieutenant stared out at the flashing lightning, as if he was hypnotized by the dazzling bursts of neon light.

Thomas approached quietly, and his gaze was similarly drawn to the storm. Eerie and silent, the lightning danced across the horizon against a backdrop of deep violet clouds. Low rumbles of thunder echoed across the plain, a sound that seemed unearthly.

Van startled him by suddenly murmuring, "It's blowing in from the north." Finally breaking his stare with the tempest, he turned his gaze to Thomas. "Some legends say that's a bad omen."

Thomas shrugged. "It's a little late then, isn't it? Because I don't think it can get much worse." Thunder boomed again, this time louder, and Thomas jerked unconsciously.

"It's just thunder." Van gave him a shallow grin, his features briefly lit by another flash of lightning.

Thomas shook his head. "I guess. I always hated it as a kid. Too loud, and the lightning shorted out my computers." He leaned against the wall beside Van, and they sat in silence for a moment.

Finally, Thomas started, "I wonder–" There came a gigantic clap of thunder, as if the very heavens were ripping apart at the seams. He jumped again, and then took a deep breath, trying to calm his pulse.

Van shook his head, snorting with laughter. Lightning flashed again, closer this time. After it finally faded, he said, "You were saying?"

Thomas fell quiet, but then dismissed himself with a shake of his head. "No, it was nothing."

"Thinking about her again?"

Thomas sighed deeply and swallowed. "Fiona? Yeah. And...I don't know–can you...feel anything?"

Rain started to pour down in torrents, almost like a wall of water, just inches away. The landscape turned a dark grey, almost opaque. The air filled quickly with the scent of a much-needed rain–the smell of life.

After a long moment of silence, Van blinked, his eyes hardening. Finally, he gave a strained laugh that almost turned into a moan. "No. That figures. I wish I could, though. I want to."

Thomas followed his absent gaze, and nodded. "I think we all do."

-

Fiona awoke groggily, confused and lost. She was sprawled on what seemed to be a small stone rise, but it was hard to tell. Darkness closed in on all sides, blocking her view of anything that lay beyond her little rock.

Her sling, for some reason or another, was gone; she clutched her left wrist to her chest, having no interest in breaking it again. The memory the pain that had come with that particular battle wound was still all too fresh in her mind.

She doubtfully scanned her surroundings, and cleared her throat, murmuring, "A dream. It has to be." Her soft words reverberated out and away in a prolonged echo. Finally, silence replaced it, pressing in deafeningly. But then it came.

You are not asleep, little one.

Sunset eyes grew wide, and she remembered.

Will you?

"Yes..."

"Oh. Oh, no." Fiona's stomach lurched, and she drew her knees in to her chest, trying with all her might to deny the truth that was slapping her in the face. "No. No, no, no."

You came because we asked you to.

She choked back a sob. Her dreams...no, her nightmares...were real. Her breathing harsh, Fiona clenched her teeth and banged her head against her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered tearfully, "Please, someone help me. Van...Thomas...please..."

You came to lead us.

At this, her head shot back up and she cried frantically, "No! No...I can't!" Fiona's hand leapt to her face, covering her eyes, trying to block it out.

That voice crept tentatively into her mind, murmuring, But we want you. You are the one, the one we need.

The girl sank her head back to her knees, feeling cold stone shock her skin, raising goose bumps. She was silent a long time, hidden behind her one good hand. Finally, she whispered, "Why? Why me?"

Because you love us. The voice swelled with invisible pride.

Fiona raised her head, tears making cold tracks down her face. "What?"

You are an ancient. You understand us. You could not kill the Mother before, because it would destroy us. You love us. From the darkness, a soft growl rebounded, and she jumped fearfully, darting her gaze around. Do not fear us, it whispered. A shape emerged from the shadows, accompanied by dully clanking steps, and she slowly relaxed, realizing it was more familiar than she had at first thought.

A huge, rounded silver head...gigantic, club-like paws...blue glass winking out at her...it was a Helcat. The zoid knelt beside her, stretching out its head heavily. Fiona swallowed hard, and extended a shaking hand, trembling fingers meeting the metal, expecting a bone-chilling cold. Instead, it was comfortably warm, a soft, shimmering heat. She sighed as the warmth soaked into her hand, streaking up her arm, down her waist, and reaching to her toes. It enveloped her body in a reassuring embrace.

Come, it whispered. The Helcat stood and slipped off into the darkness, its strangely muted footsteps the only sign it was still close by. Fiona turned and began to follow, forgetting that she was barefoot, that her hair fell knotted down her back, that her left arm hung uselessly at her side. Squinting, she still saw the dull silver sheen of the Helcat, and could only follow. Outside of that small alley, metallic rustling and soft growls echoed, testimony to the audience she had elicited.

The Helcat's spell broken briefly, the girl turned and stared in awe, choking out, "Th-they're all here? All of the zoids are here?"

They are all here for you. We have been waiting–for you.

"Me." It wasn't a statement or a question. Just a single utterance, sighed out as she felt the true meaning of it all. She stared, dazzled by the dim metallic glimmers that peeked from the darkness, the hisses and growls that spoke to her, a lost language that she barely remembered.

An insistent whisper at her ear urged, You must come, quickly. If you wish to help all of them, then act now.

Mesmerized, she nodded absently. "Yes. Yes, lead me." She turned to face the halted zoid.

The voice chuckled. No, no...that's your job. We are merely your followers. Nonetheless, the Helcat turned and stalked off, Fiona walking diligently in its footsteps.

In the back of her mind, the girl could hear a small voice wailing away, protesting this. No, it's wrong, why am I doing this! They are the enemy, the enemy that Van and Thomas are fighting against! No, no, it's not my place, turn back now...

A calmer, more rational-sounding voice pushed the first away, arguing, They want me. They need me. I need them. It' s my duty... And then they were there, and Fiona's breath caught in her throat, all inner turmoil forgotten.

The Helcat bowed away, leaving her alone in what seemed to be endless darkness. Endless darkness, all but the single glow in the center. It was a small light, blue-silver, glimmering in a shifting aura of evanescence. She stumbled toward it, her eyes huge, turned the color of thunderstorms in the unnatural light. She stared at the light, almost heartbroken–it was all that was left of the Zoid Eve, eroding away in this necropolis of a lost world.

The girl tossed her gaze upward, almost disbelieving. The inner pillars of Evopolis stretched up above her into darkness, the visible ground littered with rubble left over from the destruction of the great city. Comprehension dawned in her mind, and suddenly, she felt very, very small.

The voice nudged at her mind, bringing her attention back to the shifting light in front of her. Reach out to her. Accept her. For us.

Tears shone in Fiona's eyes. "Of course." Without hesitation, she stretched out her hand, entering it into the light. There was substance under that light, she realized dimly. It felt like the Helcat's metal hide had–warm. Comfortably warm. She felt a touch at her mind, soft and silky smooth and achingly familiar. She closed her eyes and laid her mind open to all.

Her eyes shot back open as the power, the power that she had resisted for so long, rushed forward, into her veins, through her body, a jolt that was both electrical and divine. It was almost too much; she could feel it corroding her senses like acid, only vaguely letting her register pain. All color drained from her, leaving a shell. The pigments in her hair, skin, eyes, clothing...all gone, soaked into the power. Her eyes were just empty white windows, her skin blank. The fabric of her clothing, once bright, faded to nothing and ripped slowly. Her gloves disintegrated away, leaving her bare arms; her sleeves slumped down around her shoulders.

Then her senses weren't dulled anymore–it was that same old familiar pain, experienced first in her dreams. Her blood seemed to turn into razor-sharp crystals, swirling through her veins, and shredding her body from the inside out. Through the deafening roar that grew steadily in her ears, Fiona realized that maybe, just maybe, she was going to die. Reaching that revelation, she gritted her teeth and grabbed for her last reserves of strength. Her will to live overpowered all her other senses, burning away fatigue, doubt, and any other weakness it found.

It was as her hair started to sizzle that she somehow gained control, harnessing the power in time to save the last vestiges of color left, a faint shadow of what she had once looked like. Instead of draining, the potent rush instead charged, healing her broken wrist in second, the bone setting and knitting together. Her scrapes and bruises faded away, as if they were months old, instead of mere days. Her muscles relaxed, tension and aches melting away. Her body felt new, energized, even strong. A bleached phoenix bathed in raw light, she felt born again. Which, essentially, she was.

A glow of energy swirled around her feet, which hovered a few inches from the stone floor. She took a deep breath, inhaling oxygen charged by her acceptance of the power–the power of Eve. She could still hear that voice as it faded away, subdued by her power, whispering, You did it. You took her within you. You are one now. Our new mother. Rejoice...rejoice, for...

Tasting the power in her mouth, she finished, "For a new age...has begun." A terrifying chorus of shrieking roars met this proclamation, and Fiona's colorless lips curved in a satisfied smile.

-

In a small city that served as a neighboring branch of New Helic City, Reese suddenly awoke with a start. Dawn's fingers were just beginning to creep along the walls, tingeing them a rosy pink. Her turquoise eyes narrowing nervously, she brought a shaky hand to her forehead, brushing away stray tendrils of cerulean hair that clung to her sweaty skin. What was that? Something's–

For a new age...has begun.

The Zoidian screamed in agony as a searing fire raced across her mind, and she writhed in pain on her bed, clutching at her head, her frantic fingers becoming intertwined with her tangled hair. Her legs kicked convulsively, successfully twisting the sheets tightly around her feet. Tears coursed down her pale cheeks, and her back arched involuntarily, trying anything to cope with the pain.

Suddenly, it was gone, leaving her spent and panting, entangled in her bed sheets. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, her mind raw, feeling almost burned. Slowly, the sweat cooled and dried, but she took no notice, still gulping for air. Finally, she took one last shaky breath, sitting up. She ran a trembling hand through her hair, leaving ruffled blue spikes in its wake. Slowly, she whispered, "No, what...what...Fiona, you..."

In a sudden rush of fury, she bared her teeth, snatching the water glass beside her bed, and hurled it at the wall. As the glass shattered deafeningly, showering the carpet with water and glittering crystals, her face contorted in rage and she screamed, "No, you fool, what have you done!"