/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/Colony 4, Eagus Wilderness, Fornis Wilderness/

The sandstorm fit Colony 4's overall mood: dim, and choked.

Fitting, for a Colony without a commander.

xxxx

It had been mere hours after the climactic battle in Engardo Pass...not that Bolearis had known.

He had only just made the long trek on foot through the Maktha Wildwood; only after passing by Colony Lambda and making it to the Urayan mountains had he felt safe enough to call for a Levnis from Colony 4.

It was whilst in mid-air, sitting within the fuselage, that he had received a message on his Iris: one from none other than Noah, quiet and subdued.

Somehow...he had known. He'd had a feeling, when Ethel had commanded him to return to Colony 4, that he would not be seeing her again. Even so...it had hurt.

(Noah had been contrite; even hurt, having to tell the awful truth, that Ethel and Cammuravi had killed each other with their final blows. He was even more apologetic, that he wasn't able to tell them in the person. "It's fair enough," he had said, trying to console the dark-haired swordsman. "You lot have that Annihilator to wreck, don't you? We'll...hold down the fort, until you can come pay your respects in person." It had gone without saying that, if Ouroboros failed, Colony 4 would be destroyed before they could ever return to debrief him about Ethel's last stand.)

Bolearis's mood had been impossible to ignore; the pilot had only looked at him with a concerned eye, as his expression curdled into something akin to grief.

Upon disembarking at Colony 4...it hadn't taken long for the truth to come out.

xxxx

That had been about half a month ago; alas, Colony 4 had not had much time to themselves to even mourn.

The sandstorm season had hit earlier than normal, gumming up their Ferronis and their Levnises; their days had been spent cleaning dust and grit out of the machinery, ensuring the ether filters were clean, and things of that nature. It was as if the world itself had come to a crawl, keeping them from thinking about the loss of their beloved Silvercoat.

(The only bright spot had been both figurative and literal; from far beyond the Urayan Mountains, a small part of the horizon had briefly shined as brilliantly as the sun. Cut off from Keves Castle as they were, it was only thanks to the Nopon Caravan that they found out about the Annihilator's destruction.)

Without the proverbial guillotine hanging over their head, the sense of anxiety had faded...leaving only the dull monotony of grief.

(Even reaching out to Ethel's old sister-in-arms, Orsolya, had been unsuccessful...and he had no idea why. Was it because Colony 5's Flame Clock was still active? Whatever the reason...it made his sense of isolation grow.)

Hence why his current 'visitor' was so...unwelcome.

"Come now..." remarked the Consul, his cape's collar lined with fur. "...you seem rather unhappy with my presence," remarked the man who had introduced himself as 'D'.

Bolearis, uncertain as to what the man's presence signified, sighed with trepidation. He didn't come in through our front door; he just teleported into my...Ethel's...office. While I'm alone, with no one around. (The thought of being killed almost seemed like a relief. Almost. It would have at least ended this bout of feeling like a useless mudder.) "Not trying to be rude, sir. It's just that...well, things went a tad topsy the last time a Consul visited our Colony."

"Ah. K. That sorry sod," scoffed D, crossing his arms. "Relied too much on his mastery of your Flame Clock. Made him a bit too one-dimensional, too unwilling to embrace the moment in its fullness...what irony, am I right?"

"...you seem remarkably candid about our circumstances, Consul," remarked Bolearis. There was a strange tension in the air, as though he were just a hair's width away from losing his head. "Was Ethel's sterling service not enough?"

D actually laughed. "You wouldn't be saying that if you actually knew how her last fight finally went down. P and O sure didn't appreciate it...I could feel their anger through the ether. Personally? I think Ethel and Cammuravi's final moments were a thing of beauty. Especially on the big screen."

"The...big screen?" Bolearis confusedly repeated.

"A Moebius inside joke," he slyly said, the tassels on the end of his helm's horns dangling with each movement. "I'm the kind of guy who savors the moment where life reaches its peak...that sole, transcendent, moment. K never understood that...was too busy trying to string things along, making his games last to the point where the fun's just gone. Would you believe he actually had his own personal soldier dedicated to painting, of all things? As though mere colors on a canvas could ever match the sheer intensity of life at its sweetest."

"...I suppose so," quietly said Bolearis. "If you don't mind my asking...why exactly are you here?"

D chuckled, his eyes taking on a certain gleam: mirthful, yet menacing. "Well, you 'liberated' Colonies have been having quite a lark, trying to live lightly, without fighting each other," he joked, as though the whole proposition was funny. "Honestly, I'm tempted to just let you all play around for a while...what's the harm, when it's all about to come crashing down?"

Bolearis frowned; the mood had suddenly turned. "How do you mean?"

"Your Ouroboros pals? They've been captured by Agnus Castle. When the Eclipse comes about, in a few weeks from now? They're all gonna be executed. And this little 'rebellion'...will come to a sputtering halt."

...it can't be. (Ethel had thrown her lot in with them. They couldn't be that close to losing it all, could they?!) "You're bluffing," he impulsively said.

D cackled with glee. "Ah, you're starting to feel the despair, aren't you? That's the ultimate reality of this world: the Colonies are Moebius's to do with as we please. It's not the first time Ouroboros got it in their heads to liberate some Colonies and try to 'free the world'...and what did they accomplish? Nothing. Every time Ouroboros has reared its head, Moebius inevitably stomped them down...through the weight of our boot, or the sheer inevitability of time: as everlasting as the Flame Clock itself." Leaning in close, D glared into his eyes, pinning him in place with a look. "So keep doing whatever it is you maggots have been doing. Your squirming will eventually get boring, and someone will come along to cut you down...or maybe you'll let slip the fact to your mates that Ouroboros got captured? Maybe you lot will get some sparks lit under your arses, and try something gloriously stupid. Doesn't matter to me...either way, your Colony's doomed. But I'll let you be the one to decide how it'll die."

"...you snuffin' bastard," snarled Bolearis, trying not to scream at just how bloody unfair it all was.

D huffed, looking at his clenched fists, and then at his face...until, with a sigh, he backed away. "Not your best look. Guess that's what I get for trying to catch lightning in a bottle...oh, but before I go." D leered at him, looking terribly amused. "Ethel and Orsolya...they were close comrades, weren't they? So close, that their Colonies even shared the same rank...at least, until you lot got kicked into the mud. As for Colony 5...well, they ain't Silver anymore..."

Bolearis blinked; was that why he hadn't heard from her? "Did Orsolya and her men...get knocked down to Dirt...?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. There's no fun in laying everything out...so what'll it be? Look into saving Ouroboros? Look into Orsolya? Or just wallow in this wretched dump and die in misery? Either way's fine with me," said D, turning away with a derisive scoff. "After all, I've seen sacks of shit with more pep than you've got." With that last bit of mockery, he warped away.

Bolearis just stood there, waiting to see if D would come back and actually finish him off.

One minute. Two minutes. Three. Four. Finally, after five minutes, he slumped back down into the seat that had once been Ethel's, feeling way too small for the chair and the role. Equipment getting all gummed up by the sand...Noah and the others, being executed...can't get into contact with Orsolya...and Colony 4's apparently on Moebius's chopping block, no matter what we do...eh? Spark me...

He could never recall ever feeling so overwhelmed in the days of the Flame Clock, even after days of nonstop fighting; the utter exhaustion of constant battle at least had possessed the catharsis of bloody motes recharging his inner flame. Now? Now...he just felt tired...old...and alone. Commander Ethel...I'm trying to carry on...but what would you do, when everything's so snuffed up...?

(The answer would not come for a while.)

With no answer forthcoming, Bolearis simply buried his head into his hands, wondering if the stress of it all would ever end.

xxxx

D strolled through the nearby desert with a grin. Ah...what a lovely look that peon had, he mused, feeling at least somewhat mollified. A poor consolation prize...still can't believe that stoic bastard L won the lots to cull Colony 5. Another Gold-ranked Colony, ripe for plucking. Oh well...there'll always be time for another go. A shame, that he was a Kevesi Consul for the next few generations; he would have liked to have been present to watch Ouroboros bite the big one. (The fact that N had pulled rank to serve as Keves's representative for the execution? That was just icing on the whole snuffin' cake.)

How fortunate that he was in the area nearby his...collection. The boost to his mood was just what the doctor ordered.

With the waxing moon hovering in the sky, D strolled through the desolate wastes, winding through an old and forgotten canyon; as the sight of an old Ferronis Hulk loomed, its doors opened because of his mere presence. He ignored the nearest cylinders — each one carrying a preserved head — and looked for one in particular. "...ah. There you are." Grinning madly, D stared at the decapitated head: mouth wide with terror, eyes seemingly frozen with fright. "You've got much better expressions...I wonder if you can be pushed to give a better one?" Perhaps another project to look into, once the matter of the winged bitch and her fellow Ouroboros mongrels were put to bed. "We'll see..."

The head — belonging to a Bolearis from another time long past — said nothing.

"...yes, we will see," hissed D with glee.

xxxx

D would be sorely disappointed, for more than one reason. But the story of his comeuppance has already been told.

Instead...one must wonder, how Bolearis got out of his little hole.

Suffice to say, he wasn't alone.

xxxx

It was a few days after that chance encounter — with no headway made with the matters concerning either Ouroboros or Orsolya — when Bolearis got an Iris message from an unexpected individual. "Commander Zeon?"

"I hope circumstances find you well, Lieutenant Bolearis," diplomatically said Zeon.

"...eh, could be better, could be worse." Trying to maintain his composure, he asked, "How can I help you?"

"Given that Colony 30 is your nearest Kevesi neighbor, I was hoping if I could trouble you to get a connection between me and their Commander."

"With Commander Valdi? Whatever for?"

Zeon, looking uncharastically nervous, simply said, "Well...let's just say that I've received an intriguing proposition about how to help some mutual acquaintances of ours..."

"...I'm listenin'."

xxxx

Author's Note: To be continued with the next 'Long Month' installment.

/also, poor Brolearis
/he just wants to be a bro