Yes, I haven't updated in a while. Blah, blah, blah. Anyway, this has been sitting on my hard drive for a while, so I figured I might as well ship it out. Enjoy.

Salvation

Chapter 6: Dream

Everyone was giving the newly promoted Commander a wide birth. Nobody so much as looked at him in fear of inviting his wrath. Signus, who had been talking things out with Caroline in the comfort and safety of his office, no longer felt so safe when Zero knocked the automatic door down when it refused to open fast enough.

"What," Zero hissed like an angry snake, "In the name of the God I've read about in Allure's bedside books, are you thinking, Signus!! I can't be a Commander of a group of kids I've tried to kill on more than one occasion!!!"

Despite the fact Zero's voice had somehow managed to work into a bravado well above the typical yelling-spree Caroline was used to giving when she was mad, Signus managed to keep a straight face. Although, he could tell Caroline was one step shy of laughing her head off.

"Believe it or not, Zero, your promotion was not my idea." Signus answered calmly. His hands were like loose tables under his chin, making him look laidback, relaxed, as if he had been through so many emotional hurricanes this latest one seemed to be nothing more than a gentle summer's breeze.

"What!?" Zero's face was turning so red in frustration it was becoming hard to distinguish his armor from his flesh.

Allure picked that time to poke her head around the corner, smiling widely. She turned around, yelling down the hallway, "You owe me a gallon of chocolate ice cream, Uncle Blues! He broke the door down and looks redder than his armor!"

Zero whirled back, the angry red in his face disappearing to make room for shock. Allure looked up at him, blinked, let out a squeak of shock, and ran for cover. Zero looked back at Signus, his hand pointing limply in Allure's direction.

"She... You..." He pointed back at Signus, before lowering his hand as everything clicked into place. Signus nodded, a smile beginning to line his lips as realization slowly dawned on Zero.

"Caroline, permission to tickle your daughter into submission?"

"Granted," was the only word Caroline could get out between her own fits of laughter.

Zero stepped over the remaining pieces of door leading to Signus' office, looking down in the direction Allure had run. He saw her poke her head out from around the corner, a small tug of yellow cloth in her hands, and before long, he saw the familiar shade-wearing face of Blues in his civilian cloths. Allure's eyes went wide when she noticed they'd been spotted. She looked up at Blues as he looked down at her, and both gulped.

"Runaway!"

"Get back here!!"

The guilty 'Ploid and child ducked past mechanics and warriors as they raced down the hallway, Zero hot on their heels and gaining quickly thanks to his Dash system. They stopped for only a moment when they reached an intersection.

"Left!" Allure shouted, while at the same time Blues shouted, "Right!" The two exchanged a quick look, before Zero's shouts of empty threats reached them.

"Right!" they both shouted. They moved in opposite directions, Blues taking the left-hand passage while Allure took the right.

Allure took one more hard right, opening a spare training room door, and ducking under the protection of a startled Axl. She skidded around behind him, grabbing tight to his right leg and huddling close.

"Um... Let me guess?" Zero's roar reached his hearing, and he gulped, "You got him mad?"

"Sort-a," Allure giggled between pants of breath. Axl sighed, noticing the devil's smirk she was giving Zero as he walked calmly through the training room door.

"Hi, Axl," Zero smirked, waving calmly at Axl.

"Hi, Zero," Axl replied casually.

"Yah know the girl you've currently got stuck to your leg?"

Axl looked down at Allure, who was currently trying to shrink away out of view. "Yep,"

Zero's smirk turned devilish. "I've got permission,"

"Okay!"

Echoes of laughter ricocheted throughout the underground compound. Blues stopped running, listening to the familiar squeals of laughter, and pretended to be disheartened.

"They got her..." and then he snickered, "Great! Means I don't have to pay up!"

And all the while, Caroline was lying back on the sofa in Signus' office, laughing so hard her face was turning blue.

"Tell me again why you thought I should lead Unit #0?"

It was evening, or at least it seemed like evening, as the Day Watch switched over to the Night Watch. Allure sat on her bed, cross-legged, dressed in her ice blue bed-dress, her hands gently working through Zero's freshly washed hair. It never ceased to amaze her four-year-old curiosity how real Zero's hair felt. His hair was strong, made of the same metal as his armor she assumed, but it felt as soft and silk-like as her own hair.

"Because Forte thought it was a good idea," Allure answered.

The gold-haired Reploid sat with his back against her bed, his legs outstretched in front of him, wearing only a pair of blue jeans, his arms crossed over his well-toned chest, his emerald eyes closed. He gently swatted Allure's hand when she pulled to hard on his precious hair.

Zero didn't really know why he cared about his hair so much. It was logical to have it cut down to a more manageable level, so that it just barely brushed his shoulders, but every time he considered it, a feeling of dread stopped him. He absolutely did not want anything to happen to his golden mane, and the only person he allowed to so much as touch it without risk of loosing their hand was Allure. He'd let her play with it for hours, experimenting with different styles, seeing if maybe she could get it to cooperate in a braided ponytail...one that, hopefully, would not have him confused with a girl.

"Your turn," Allure's voice broke his train of though. Zero hummed, the only signal the girl got he had heard her, before flipping himself onto Allure's bed with an unusual gymnastic grace and speed. He landed cross-legged behind her, allowing her to lean back against him and give her own legs a stretch.

Zero pulled a black rectangular brush from the nightstand besides him, and gently began his work. He pulled the brush through her silvery hair with a practiced ease, working out the tangles gently, barely even pulling.

"Sill using the old conditioner?" he hummed teasingly.

"Not done with it yet, and it'd be a waist to throw it out." Allure answered calmly. Silence reigned for several more seconds, before she asked quietly, "Was it a bad idea?"

The question had been so soft, Zero hardly heard it. He stopped for a moment, thinking, before sighing and continuing on with his task.

"I've done a lot of things I don't like Allure," Zero stopped so as to pull a tangle free from the brush before continuing, "Being in charge of a Unit, like I was before... before I met you... I'm forced to remember what it was like working for him."

Allure gave an involuntary yip when Zero pulled too hard.

"Sorry,"

Allure was silent, thinking, before replying, "It's okay. You're not him anymore. You don't work for the dork-a-sourus anymore. You work for an ox-stubborn-headed-brick-wall-thick Commander of the Maverick Resistance Army and Caroline Light... and me, too..."

Silence again reigned for several seconds. Eternity seemed to have come and gone again when Zero finally asked, "Braided as normal?"

"Yes, please,"

He gently returned his tool to its home. His fingers seemed to work without conscious order as they repeated the routine known as braiding Allure's hair.

"Why did you ask for Axl to be put in my Unit?"

Allure seemed to be silent for a very long time – an unusually long time, in Zero's opinion.

"...Forte is taking over as Commander of Maverick Ground/Air Unit #3, in place of former Commander Red, who was one of the twenty-one lost during the escape..."

"But... But he's your Guard..." Zero gulped back shock.

"He and I... We both agreed it would be better for him to fight front-line." Zero let the braid fall unfinished from his fingers' gentle caress when Allure moved to pull herself tight, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"...We're coming apart at the seams... Two generation of war, going on to a third generation... People are losing hope. I've heard rumors some of the newer recruits, and some of the older ones, too, are thinking about just... just leaving. Getting off the mainland, moving to a remote island somewhere, away from him, so far away he'd never find us again. And some, those who have come from Colonies whose people have tried to hide from him, are saying we should just surrender and give in...

"Axl's got a lot of potential as a fighter, even though he's so young. The other kids like him too, especially Nate. You remember Nate, right? His dad's the third-in-command of your Unit's medical crew.

"Since resources are starting to dwindle, and since we're still in hiding, it's important to stretch as much as we can, as far as we can. I figured - and Forte though I might be right - that since Axl's got so much potential, he could protect me and the other kids, serve as our Guard, after he's got the kinks worked out with the Copy Shot and all... And had training from the absolute best, the second greatest living legend in Maverick History."

The unmistakable plop of a teardrop echoed into hearing.

"...And I told Signus I would knock the first deserter for a loop with his own weapon... Not Uncle Blues, or mama, or Forte, or even you. Me. First person to try and quite has to fight me."

Even through her eyes seemed unnaturally cold and her face seemed to have lost all emotion, tears streamed unchecked. She sniffled, whipping her running nose against the back of her hand. Zero gently pulled her into his lap, pulling her close against him, flicking his hair over his shoulder and using it as a poor substitute for a blanket.

"No, Allure... You won't." She sniffled back her tears, looking up at him in confusion. His broken smile met her, "If someone decides to leave, then you won't fight them. I won't let you fight them. We'll simply wish them luck and let them leave."

"W-Why?" Allure demanded, pulling closer to him in a pleading fashion.

"Think for a minute, Allure. Why did your grandfather's best friend create the Maverick Rebellion in his name?" There was silence as Allure turned to look away.

"For freedom. For the right to chose your own destiny. If you stop them from leaving, you'll do nothing more than defile the name you're trying so hard to protect."

"But... But we'll lose if everybody stops fighting!" Allure countered, pouting.

"Never," Zero's determined voice replied. "Even if the fight drags on for another ten generations, the fight for freedom will never stop; demons like Wily will never win. I will personally make sure of that, Allure."

He pushed his hair around her, fully blocking her body from view, while blood red eyes stared out into the cold world hiding behind walls of garnet and steal, and bleached blond hair seemed to glow almost silver in the waning light.

"I will never stop fighting for your dream, Allure. Never,"

Because it's my dream, too...

Axl was back in a spare training room, a bluish-green Saber on loan from one of his teammates being choked to death in his grip. Zero may have taken away his Saber, but he hadn't taken away all of the Sabers. Axl was hell-bent on perfecting at least one melee attack before the night was through.

He was halfway through cutting off his own head when something metal came flying at him from, literally, no where. This something hit Axl in the head, forcing the boy to bite back a yelp of pain and drop the Saber.

"What the...?" Axl stopped talking mid sentence as the identity of the metal chunk clicked in his mind.

A Level 10 training droid – the kind of droid reserved for X and Blues' training runs – was currently missing its head.

The boy slowly picked up his on-loan Saber, slipping it into the safety of its sheath, and walked cautiously in the direction the severed head had originated in. He slowly looked around the dividing wall between his small corner of the training hall and the larger, football-field training section, and...

Axl could have sworn he stopped breathing for a solid minute.

The room was the living painting of a modern World War I trench. Bodies littered everywhere, as if someone had come along with a giant bag of confetti and tossed them out at random. Oils, coolants, and droid power fluids all ran together as one large river of black metal blood which stretched from one end of the training room to the other. The only white left in the room was on the ceiling and near the tops of the walls. The white met with jagged strips of red and black – the river's replenishing rain dripping down onto the ground.

And in the center of it all was Zero dressed in untouched civilian cloths, his Saber adding a demonic red shadow to his unbound bleach blond hair, and a single tear matching the color of his ruby eyes gently caressing his ivory synthetic flesh as it rolled down his cheek towards endless oblivion.