How Easily They Turn

The wind at once whistled and howled as it whipped down the deserted streets. The city, although now entirely evacuated of survivors and devoid of life, seemed always in motion as the wind slapped at the tattered remnants of flags and banners, blew the melted doors open and shut on wailing hinges, and tossed about what sand it could, unable to lift much of the blood-soaked soil from the ground.

Nearly swallowed by the winds stood the two lone figures, whose efforts had come too late. The hard light of the bright, pale sun made stark silhouettes of their forms, disguising their faces even from each other. Their 6-o'clock shadows stretched like elongated spectres before them, shrouding their motionless prey, which was no longer much more than a husk of charred metal and singed wires. The odd robotic appendages strewn to either side were the only thing in the whole city bearing a resemblance to their former selves.

A suitably grim end to the darkest day in their lives.

For a long time there would be not a word spoken between them. When first a voice was heard, it was Zero.

"So, that's the end of that."

He cut into the silence as they rode aboard the transport headed for the nearest outpost of Maverick Hunter HQ, where they would be within teleporting range back to the base. They had taken Hover Speeder Bikes from the same outpost earlier that day into the city, where a heavy-lifting Reploid had turned its builder's hands to wreaking havoc, having gone violently Maverick – the only kind of Maverick – and reducing the human town to its current state.

A class-A Maverick, meaning one large and capable enough to cause widespread destruction and death. For Sigma, the first he'd encountered, but for Zero, the most recent in a line of many. But however many battles he'd fought, Zero hadn't grown callous at heart, and was sensitive to his new partner's obvious distress over the day's proceedings. He was trying in a feeble attempt to forge a rapport at this critical time.

The effort was indeed all he could muster in his own humbled awe at the sheer destructive force of the rampaging robot they had just felled today. No, not robot. Reploid. Even if in its madness, it had reverted to being nothing but a machine gone haywire. No matter how many times he wielded power that matched his adversaries', Zero always felt his grip on the Lazer Blade to be a little tenuous, his speed with the blaster the least bit hesitant. But neither would be called upon until another day – the hilt of the now-retracted blade, ever strapped to his back, was nestled snugly between himself and the wall, and his blaster, which materialized through teleportation over his left hand, was now safely in storage.

With a shake of his head, he snapped out of his reverie back to the moment at hand, and awaited any acknowledgment from his counterpart.

Sigma's gaze hadn't shifted at the intrusion on the silence, nor during Zero's prolonged thought, nor did it as Zero presently eyed him. He looked, Zero thought worriedly, nearly powered down, he was that still. The ride rumbled and shook as it took a divot in the sands, and yet still Sigma sat.

"You seem really disturbed by this. Maybe this isn't really a good choice for you," Zero offered. The silence was a little too eerie for his liking. "There're a lot of ways a Reploid can aid the effort against the Mavericks without force. Right in the Hunter's HQ, in fact, we have openings in Search and Rescue, Recovery, and Restoration --"

"I like it. I like it just fine." Sigma finally turned a grinning face towards Zero. His simple gesture, a sideways smirk, revealed much – ambition, eagerness, anticipation for more, a thirst laden with the darkest of desires.

"I want more."