DISCLAIMER: I don't own ZOIDS!
Chapter 1: Can't forget you, even when you've forgotten yourself.
It was strange, that in the immaculately kept cemetery, there would be one small section left completely unattended. A hidden corner containing two tombstones, side by side... clogged with rotting debris, when all the others were clean and covered with fresh flowers. Others had engraved messages of love, hope, remembrance, while these two only had hastily scratched names.
In the memorial built for those who had died whilst battling the Ultimate Deathsaurer, these two were the only graves Van Flyheight visited on a regular basis. He came whenever he had a spare moment, and would stare at the piled dirt, seeing past it to envisage the empty wooden caskets buried underneath.
He crouched and yanked out weeds viciously, looking at the single words. REIVUN. RYSS. After the Zoideve sunk back into the sand they had all disappeared. No red Geno Breaker, no black or blue organoids, no tracks in the sand. No bodies either. The people around him theorised that Raven, Ryss and their organoids had been sucked in helplessly along with the Geno Breaker, which had -they reminded him- fallen off the top of a very tall building. Van had snorted derisively in reply.
Raven was never helpless.
Still, no one had bothered to help him search. Not Fiona, Irvine or Moonbei. Not even Zeke. Well, that was to be expected. Zeke was really Fiona's organoid, not his. Only the Blade Liger was his own. And his arch rival... that's his as well. Or at least, he was. Van clenched both fists, angrily recalling his conversation with Rudolph after that battle.
"Perhaps it is for the best if they sank with the Zoideve," Rudolph had said. "They both have extensive criminal records against the Republic, and they are two of the last links to the Deathsaurer."
"But Fiona is connected to it too! More so than Raven or Ryss ever was."
"They were both major catalysts. Had he not collected so many zoid cores for Prozen, the original Deathsaurer would not have been able to awaken. If they had not cooperated with Hiltz's plans, the Ultimate Deathsaurer could not have been resurrected."
"That isn't fair and you know it," he'd accused, slamming both hands upon the desk.
Rudolph had sighed. "I'm sorry Van. You may be the world's greatest zoid pilot, but you are no politician. This has to be done."
"Some greatest pilot," Van snorted. "Raven beats me every time in the Geno Breaker."
"Raven is dead now, remember?"
"No. I refuse to believe it. He and Ryss are out there somewhere; I'm sure of it." He'd stood straight, defiant. "And I'm going to find them."
He'd stormed out before the Emperor could reply, and headed straight for Guardian Force Headquarters to hand in his resignation form.
They'd naturally objected (having the hero who "single-handedly" destroyed the Deathsaurer twice was a double boost to their morale and reputation) but realised that they would be unable to stop him. Besides, evil had been destroyed once and for all. All that remained now were petty bandits and gangs. They wouldn't need Van's help for something as small as that. He frowned. Those same petty bandits were now practically ruling the desert. Apart from a select few pilots who'd survived the Ultimate Deathsaurer, there were practically no skilled pilots anywhere. Most of the older pilots chose to retire, or refused to work in a low-paying job such as the Guardian Force. Van knew that had he stayed, they might have chosen to sign up. Instead, the Republican and Imperial armies were filled with amateur zoid pilots who had little to no battle experience. It was pathetic.
'I'm beginning to understand why Raven was so frustrated with me now,' he thought wryly. 'I was such a horrible pilot, it's a wonder he didn't just kill me with one shot.'
Tracing his finger along the tombstone, he grinned slightly. A dot and a laterally inverted seven were visible, if only faintly. He'd often just sit here for hours, just tracing the design while brooding. 'And this is why I don't try to think in the Liger. He wouldn't really appreciate my attempt at art.'
Using a 'borrowed' broom, he swept the mutilated foliage and dirt onto a newly pruned patch of rosebushes, ignoring the distant yells and protests. Van chucked the broom into the bushes as well, before running off before someone could come to attack him. Scaling the stone walls easily, he flipped over the side, landed then ran to his Liger and climbed into the cockpit. He closed the hatch, then paused.
Where to now?
He could bust some rookie pilot's over-inflated ego, find Raven, rescue another small village from an attack by bandits, find Raven, hunt out another badly decorated bandit lair, find Raven, or play a few tricks on the Guardian Force. He could also sell the spare parts he'd been hounding. Or, if he was really bored, try to find Raven.
Van grinned. His life was so meaningful.
**********
"Hey kid, why don't you just give up now before I slice that zoid of yours apart." "There's no way you'll beat me!" yelled the teen confidently. He piloted a Command Wolf that was clearly brand new. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." Abruptly, the Blade Liger shot forward, and had swept past the other zoid by a mere centimetre before his opponent had even reacted. "What?!" the Command Wolf turned, trying to find its opponent. "How did you move so fast? You must have cheated." "They're called boosters, kid. And ever heard of modifications? They help too." "That's not fair! I'm going home so my Dad can buy me a better zoid to play with." The black zoid turned and ran off.
'Give me a break.' Van shook his head in disgust. The Liger jumped and landed directly in front of the Command Wolf, forcing it to stop. "What kind of zoid pilot are you?" he demanded. "Zoids aren't some toy you replace once you grow bored with it!" "Hey! It's my zoid and I'll decide what to do with it. So just get out of my way!" The teen began to fire at the Blade Liger, thinking that he'd hit for sure at point blank range. He was shocked when the bullets struck the Liger's shield, then was promptly rammed by it. "Maybe that'll teach you some respect," snapped Van. He glared at the prone form of the Command Wolf and its unconscious pilot, then turned away in disgust. 'He wouldn't have fainted after one measly hit. He would have gotten up, ripped my Blade Liger half apart then fired a Charged Particle Beam at me.'
"Halt! This is the Guardian Force, and you are under arrest for disrupting the peace. Get out of your zoid slowly, and put your hands in the air." "Another bunch of amateurs looking to get pummeled? What a day." Ignoring the unit of Guysacks, he moved away irritably. "I repeat, get out of your zoid!" yelled the commanding officer. He began firing rapidly out of his tail at the Blade Liger. Scowling, Van dodged each bullet then jumped at the Guysack, slashing the gun off with a claw. "Why don't you lay off before you hurt yourself?" he taunted, watching as the other zoids aimed their tails at him. The Liger unfurled his blades and attacked, slicing off four guns in an instant. He landed, jumped higher to avoid the other Guysacks' shots, then sliced off four more. Within minutes the entire unit had been crippled.
"Is that the best the Repulican army has to offer? I'm really disappointed," he sneered. "No wonder bandits are running around everywhere unchecked." "The Guardian Force is not to be mocked, felon!" yelled the officer in outrage. "Whatever you say." Looking up, Van saw another unit heading his way, this one comprised of 30 Molgas followed by a single Iron Kong. The Molgas aimed their guns at him, until a voice from the Iron Kong ordered, "Hold your fire!"
Colonel Schubaltz's face appeared on the screen in front of him. "Van Flyheight. It's been a while." "Yeah well. I've been busy," shrugged the former Lieutenant. "So I've heard. I'd like to talk to you for a bit; it won't take up much of your time." "Alright."
The former comrades climbed out of their respective cockpits, and Karl ordered the two units to return to the Guardian Force base. In silence, the pilots watched as the disabled Guysacks and the Molgas retreated. "There've been reports of a blue Blade Liger challenging other Zoids at random. I assume that was you?" "Just letting off some steam. Besides, those pilots can't handle a Zoid anyway." Karl raised an eyebrow. "You know who you sound like." "Yeah." A pause. "I'm assuming you haven't found him yet." "No," replied Van, huffing in frustration. "I've looked everywhere; and nothing! No one's even seen him. It's like the bastard disappeared right off the face of the planet!"
The Colonel took his hat off and pretended to inspect it, watching the irritated pilot of the Blade Liger. Internally, he debated whether to share his information. He replaced the hat and said, "There's a house where Raven used to live at before he joined the army. You might be able to find him there." "You know where it is?" Van asked incredulously. His fists clenched with anticipation. "Not many people know the spot, and its a long shot that Raven even remembers it. But if you really want to find him, you might want to try it. It's at..."
**********
He was disappointed. All those new guns and the extra ammunition... how was he supposed to know the place had no bandits whatsoever? And he'd traded all those spare Gunsniper and Godos parts too for his fancy new plasma cannon, but he hadn't even gotten to test it out properly in battle.
The lack of bandits told him that there was either a very powerful pilot around, or a lack of valuable goods. Judging by the exceptionally wealthy but poorly defended town he passed, he decided it was the former. Now he just had to find this powerful pilot, who insisted on remaining anonymous to strangers.
"Sorry, but I owe that guy, and I ain't telling his secret for nothing."
"Who are you anyway? No, it's not my business to tell you."
"Get out before I set the dogs on you."
It was all very inconvinient.
'Stupid hermit.' He tried a different tactic with the owner of a bar that looked positively ancient. "Excuse me sir, but I'm interested in organoids, and I heard something about there being an organoid research lab somewhere around here." The bartender squinted at him. "Sorry lad, but your a decade or so too late. That old lab hasn't been occupied since the old owners were killed and the kid got whisked off by the Republicans."
Van frowned. "Republicans? Isn't this Imperial territory?" "Used to be neutral ground, it was. Now it's an Imperial lot," replied the tender. "Why? You in the Republican army or something?" "No no. Just curious. So do you know what happened to the kid?" Van asked hopefully. "Haven't seen the poor lad since." "Oh. Well I'd be grateful if you told me how to get to the lab. There might still be valuable information in there that I could use and learn from." "Well... I only know that its a little east of here. Other than that I can't really give you any directions. No one's ever been to the old lab; it's cursed." "Thanks."
**********
It was luck, really, that he'd found the cave. Overhead, a rare desert thunderstorm raged, shooting jagged bolts of lightning across the horizon. The cave was large enough to house his Liger... otherwise, he'd have to be satisfied with it being nice and crispy. Bored, he toyed with a spare bullet from his handgun, cursing when it fell from his hand and rolled. Chasing after it, he saw it roll into a niche in the wall. Sighing, he slid his hand in and began to grope for the bullet.
He couldn't find it. Stretching more, he realised that his arm could go through the hole. Then his shoulder, and eventually his whole body slipped in. Van's eyes widened; he hadn't realised that the opening was this big. Continuing to shuffle along, he saw that he was actually in a passage leading deep into the mountain. At the other end was a wall, with a hole on top. Rain poured through and drenched him, but he ignored it: the scuff marks on the wall had caught his eye.
They were boot marks, and the size was around nine. The soles were worn, but intact. Higher up were different marks that looked as if they were made with gloved hands. 'Someone's been here before me, and pretty recently too.' He placed his own fingers into the grove and pulled himself up, swearing when his boots skidded on the slippery surface and his fingers scraped down.
Thankfully the wall was only three metres tall. Van pulled himself over the edge and sucked his lacerated fingers, ignoring the trickle of water. He found that this place was invisible from above: a thick canopy and cliff face screened it from view. More interesting were the deep stratches carved into the rock, as though something with claws had often stood here.
Walking with care along the wall -which had widened to form a small platform, he found himself in a dense forest. Had it not been for the small trail leading through, Van would have quickly become lost. Following the trail, he came into a clearing and blinked, trying to clear the rain from his eyes. He was not disappointed.
An old house with a wrecked shed built on as an extension. Despite its abandoned appearance, Van could see no holes in the roof through which water could leak; the house was kept in good repair. He walked forward and pushed open the lockless door.
Inside, the house was dry and bare, except for a table with two chairs in the kitchen, a threadbare sofa in the lounge, a privy, a bathroom with a tank of water, a bedroom with a bed and desk, and a master bedroom with a double bed and drawers. Scuff marks indicated that other furniture had once been present, but had been moved away. There were matches, bread, crockery and cutlery, salt, and firewood in the kitchen cupboards, paper in the privy, shampoo and soap in the bathroom, and various damaged Zoid parts on the desk. The drawers were locked. There was definitely someone living here.
Van sat down on a chair to review some facts he'd managed to glean from the villagers before he'd been kicked out. Yes, there was a young man who lived around the village, though not in it. No, they'd never seen a red Zoid around, though they had seen distant explosions before. Only the smoking shells of various bandit Zoids left, completely emaciated. They were never looted -the man was far too honourable for that- (though Van suspected it was a different kind of pride to what they thought. After all, the pilot he searched for was not above stealing, but would never take something not worth his while.) And no, they didn't know how the Zoids had died, only that the young man had done so, and why did he want to know anyway?!
Raven was dangerous without a Zoid or even without Shadow, this he knew from past experience. People tended to overlook the fact, but only because he was that much scarier when he was actually in one of those metallic monstrosities that could blow up an entire fortress with a Charged Particle Beam, or walking along flanked by the most forbidding organoid ever. But the stupid maverick could also be quite stealthy when he wanted, and he concluded that the reason the villagers hadn't seen the Geno Breaker was because Raven didn't want them to.
The most idiotic grin split his face. "Raven, I've found you."
Chapter 1: Can't forget you, even when you've forgotten yourself.
It was strange, that in the immaculately kept cemetery, there would be one small section left completely unattended. A hidden corner containing two tombstones, side by side... clogged with rotting debris, when all the others were clean and covered with fresh flowers. Others had engraved messages of love, hope, remembrance, while these two only had hastily scratched names.
In the memorial built for those who had died whilst battling the Ultimate Deathsaurer, these two were the only graves Van Flyheight visited on a regular basis. He came whenever he had a spare moment, and would stare at the piled dirt, seeing past it to envisage the empty wooden caskets buried underneath.
He crouched and yanked out weeds viciously, looking at the single words. REIVUN. RYSS. After the Zoideve sunk back into the sand they had all disappeared. No red Geno Breaker, no black or blue organoids, no tracks in the sand. No bodies either. The people around him theorised that Raven, Ryss and their organoids had been sucked in helplessly along with the Geno Breaker, which had -they reminded him- fallen off the top of a very tall building. Van had snorted derisively in reply.
Raven was never helpless.
Still, no one had bothered to help him search. Not Fiona, Irvine or Moonbei. Not even Zeke. Well, that was to be expected. Zeke was really Fiona's organoid, not his. Only the Blade Liger was his own. And his arch rival... that's his as well. Or at least, he was. Van clenched both fists, angrily recalling his conversation with Rudolph after that battle.
"Perhaps it is for the best if they sank with the Zoideve," Rudolph had said. "They both have extensive criminal records against the Republic, and they are two of the last links to the Deathsaurer."
"But Fiona is connected to it too! More so than Raven or Ryss ever was."
"They were both major catalysts. Had he not collected so many zoid cores for Prozen, the original Deathsaurer would not have been able to awaken. If they had not cooperated with Hiltz's plans, the Ultimate Deathsaurer could not have been resurrected."
"That isn't fair and you know it," he'd accused, slamming both hands upon the desk.
Rudolph had sighed. "I'm sorry Van. You may be the world's greatest zoid pilot, but you are no politician. This has to be done."
"Some greatest pilot," Van snorted. "Raven beats me every time in the Geno Breaker."
"Raven is dead now, remember?"
"No. I refuse to believe it. He and Ryss are out there somewhere; I'm sure of it." He'd stood straight, defiant. "And I'm going to find them."
He'd stormed out before the Emperor could reply, and headed straight for Guardian Force Headquarters to hand in his resignation form.
They'd naturally objected (having the hero who "single-handedly" destroyed the Deathsaurer twice was a double boost to their morale and reputation) but realised that they would be unable to stop him. Besides, evil had been destroyed once and for all. All that remained now were petty bandits and gangs. They wouldn't need Van's help for something as small as that. He frowned. Those same petty bandits were now practically ruling the desert. Apart from a select few pilots who'd survived the Ultimate Deathsaurer, there were practically no skilled pilots anywhere. Most of the older pilots chose to retire, or refused to work in a low-paying job such as the Guardian Force. Van knew that had he stayed, they might have chosen to sign up. Instead, the Republican and Imperial armies were filled with amateur zoid pilots who had little to no battle experience. It was pathetic.
'I'm beginning to understand why Raven was so frustrated with me now,' he thought wryly. 'I was such a horrible pilot, it's a wonder he didn't just kill me with one shot.'
Tracing his finger along the tombstone, he grinned slightly. A dot and a laterally inverted seven were visible, if only faintly. He'd often just sit here for hours, just tracing the design while brooding. 'And this is why I don't try to think in the Liger. He wouldn't really appreciate my attempt at art.'
Using a 'borrowed' broom, he swept the mutilated foliage and dirt onto a newly pruned patch of rosebushes, ignoring the distant yells and protests. Van chucked the broom into the bushes as well, before running off before someone could come to attack him. Scaling the stone walls easily, he flipped over the side, landed then ran to his Liger and climbed into the cockpit. He closed the hatch, then paused.
Where to now?
He could bust some rookie pilot's over-inflated ego, find Raven, rescue another small village from an attack by bandits, find Raven, hunt out another badly decorated bandit lair, find Raven, or play a few tricks on the Guardian Force. He could also sell the spare parts he'd been hounding. Or, if he was really bored, try to find Raven.
Van grinned. His life was so meaningful.
**********
"Hey kid, why don't you just give up now before I slice that zoid of yours apart." "There's no way you'll beat me!" yelled the teen confidently. He piloted a Command Wolf that was clearly brand new. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." Abruptly, the Blade Liger shot forward, and had swept past the other zoid by a mere centimetre before his opponent had even reacted. "What?!" the Command Wolf turned, trying to find its opponent. "How did you move so fast? You must have cheated." "They're called boosters, kid. And ever heard of modifications? They help too." "That's not fair! I'm going home so my Dad can buy me a better zoid to play with." The black zoid turned and ran off.
'Give me a break.' Van shook his head in disgust. The Liger jumped and landed directly in front of the Command Wolf, forcing it to stop. "What kind of zoid pilot are you?" he demanded. "Zoids aren't some toy you replace once you grow bored with it!" "Hey! It's my zoid and I'll decide what to do with it. So just get out of my way!" The teen began to fire at the Blade Liger, thinking that he'd hit for sure at point blank range. He was shocked when the bullets struck the Liger's shield, then was promptly rammed by it. "Maybe that'll teach you some respect," snapped Van. He glared at the prone form of the Command Wolf and its unconscious pilot, then turned away in disgust. 'He wouldn't have fainted after one measly hit. He would have gotten up, ripped my Blade Liger half apart then fired a Charged Particle Beam at me.'
"Halt! This is the Guardian Force, and you are under arrest for disrupting the peace. Get out of your zoid slowly, and put your hands in the air." "Another bunch of amateurs looking to get pummeled? What a day." Ignoring the unit of Guysacks, he moved away irritably. "I repeat, get out of your zoid!" yelled the commanding officer. He began firing rapidly out of his tail at the Blade Liger. Scowling, Van dodged each bullet then jumped at the Guysack, slashing the gun off with a claw. "Why don't you lay off before you hurt yourself?" he taunted, watching as the other zoids aimed their tails at him. The Liger unfurled his blades and attacked, slicing off four guns in an instant. He landed, jumped higher to avoid the other Guysacks' shots, then sliced off four more. Within minutes the entire unit had been crippled.
"Is that the best the Repulican army has to offer? I'm really disappointed," he sneered. "No wonder bandits are running around everywhere unchecked." "The Guardian Force is not to be mocked, felon!" yelled the officer in outrage. "Whatever you say." Looking up, Van saw another unit heading his way, this one comprised of 30 Molgas followed by a single Iron Kong. The Molgas aimed their guns at him, until a voice from the Iron Kong ordered, "Hold your fire!"
Colonel Schubaltz's face appeared on the screen in front of him. "Van Flyheight. It's been a while." "Yeah well. I've been busy," shrugged the former Lieutenant. "So I've heard. I'd like to talk to you for a bit; it won't take up much of your time." "Alright."
The former comrades climbed out of their respective cockpits, and Karl ordered the two units to return to the Guardian Force base. In silence, the pilots watched as the disabled Guysacks and the Molgas retreated. "There've been reports of a blue Blade Liger challenging other Zoids at random. I assume that was you?" "Just letting off some steam. Besides, those pilots can't handle a Zoid anyway." Karl raised an eyebrow. "You know who you sound like." "Yeah." A pause. "I'm assuming you haven't found him yet." "No," replied Van, huffing in frustration. "I've looked everywhere; and nothing! No one's even seen him. It's like the bastard disappeared right off the face of the planet!"
The Colonel took his hat off and pretended to inspect it, watching the irritated pilot of the Blade Liger. Internally, he debated whether to share his information. He replaced the hat and said, "There's a house where Raven used to live at before he joined the army. You might be able to find him there." "You know where it is?" Van asked incredulously. His fists clenched with anticipation. "Not many people know the spot, and its a long shot that Raven even remembers it. But if you really want to find him, you might want to try it. It's at..."
**********
He was disappointed. All those new guns and the extra ammunition... how was he supposed to know the place had no bandits whatsoever? And he'd traded all those spare Gunsniper and Godos parts too for his fancy new plasma cannon, but he hadn't even gotten to test it out properly in battle.
The lack of bandits told him that there was either a very powerful pilot around, or a lack of valuable goods. Judging by the exceptionally wealthy but poorly defended town he passed, he decided it was the former. Now he just had to find this powerful pilot, who insisted on remaining anonymous to strangers.
"Sorry, but I owe that guy, and I ain't telling his secret for nothing."
"Who are you anyway? No, it's not my business to tell you."
"Get out before I set the dogs on you."
It was all very inconvinient.
'Stupid hermit.' He tried a different tactic with the owner of a bar that looked positively ancient. "Excuse me sir, but I'm interested in organoids, and I heard something about there being an organoid research lab somewhere around here." The bartender squinted at him. "Sorry lad, but your a decade or so too late. That old lab hasn't been occupied since the old owners were killed and the kid got whisked off by the Republicans."
Van frowned. "Republicans? Isn't this Imperial territory?" "Used to be neutral ground, it was. Now it's an Imperial lot," replied the tender. "Why? You in the Republican army or something?" "No no. Just curious. So do you know what happened to the kid?" Van asked hopefully. "Haven't seen the poor lad since." "Oh. Well I'd be grateful if you told me how to get to the lab. There might still be valuable information in there that I could use and learn from." "Well... I only know that its a little east of here. Other than that I can't really give you any directions. No one's ever been to the old lab; it's cursed." "Thanks."
**********
It was luck, really, that he'd found the cave. Overhead, a rare desert thunderstorm raged, shooting jagged bolts of lightning across the horizon. The cave was large enough to house his Liger... otherwise, he'd have to be satisfied with it being nice and crispy. Bored, he toyed with a spare bullet from his handgun, cursing when it fell from his hand and rolled. Chasing after it, he saw it roll into a niche in the wall. Sighing, he slid his hand in and began to grope for the bullet.
He couldn't find it. Stretching more, he realised that his arm could go through the hole. Then his shoulder, and eventually his whole body slipped in. Van's eyes widened; he hadn't realised that the opening was this big. Continuing to shuffle along, he saw that he was actually in a passage leading deep into the mountain. At the other end was a wall, with a hole on top. Rain poured through and drenched him, but he ignored it: the scuff marks on the wall had caught his eye.
They were boot marks, and the size was around nine. The soles were worn, but intact. Higher up were different marks that looked as if they were made with gloved hands. 'Someone's been here before me, and pretty recently too.' He placed his own fingers into the grove and pulled himself up, swearing when his boots skidded on the slippery surface and his fingers scraped down.
Thankfully the wall was only three metres tall. Van pulled himself over the edge and sucked his lacerated fingers, ignoring the trickle of water. He found that this place was invisible from above: a thick canopy and cliff face screened it from view. More interesting were the deep stratches carved into the rock, as though something with claws had often stood here.
Walking with care along the wall -which had widened to form a small platform, he found himself in a dense forest. Had it not been for the small trail leading through, Van would have quickly become lost. Following the trail, he came into a clearing and blinked, trying to clear the rain from his eyes. He was not disappointed.
An old house with a wrecked shed built on as an extension. Despite its abandoned appearance, Van could see no holes in the roof through which water could leak; the house was kept in good repair. He walked forward and pushed open the lockless door.
Inside, the house was dry and bare, except for a table with two chairs in the kitchen, a threadbare sofa in the lounge, a privy, a bathroom with a tank of water, a bedroom with a bed and desk, and a master bedroom with a double bed and drawers. Scuff marks indicated that other furniture had once been present, but had been moved away. There were matches, bread, crockery and cutlery, salt, and firewood in the kitchen cupboards, paper in the privy, shampoo and soap in the bathroom, and various damaged Zoid parts on the desk. The drawers were locked. There was definitely someone living here.
Van sat down on a chair to review some facts he'd managed to glean from the villagers before he'd been kicked out. Yes, there was a young man who lived around the village, though not in it. No, they'd never seen a red Zoid around, though they had seen distant explosions before. Only the smoking shells of various bandit Zoids left, completely emaciated. They were never looted -the man was far too honourable for that- (though Van suspected it was a different kind of pride to what they thought. After all, the pilot he searched for was not above stealing, but would never take something not worth his while.) And no, they didn't know how the Zoids had died, only that the young man had done so, and why did he want to know anyway?!
Raven was dangerous without a Zoid or even without Shadow, this he knew from past experience. People tended to overlook the fact, but only because he was that much scarier when he was actually in one of those metallic monstrosities that could blow up an entire fortress with a Charged Particle Beam, or walking along flanked by the most forbidding organoid ever. But the stupid maverick could also be quite stealthy when he wanted, and he concluded that the reason the villagers hadn't seen the Geno Breaker was because Raven didn't want them to.
The most idiotic grin split his face. "Raven, I've found you."