Thanks to Gerao-A, Vae Victis, Nologigue, LegendarySuperNamek and Beni-kun for reviewing :)

Disclaimer: The characters are the properties of Playmore, this story has absolutely no relation to the official storyline, and English is not my first language.

Chapter 1

"This had to be the most debased part of the town," the solitary figure thought as he tramped through the night.

He could feel the stench of garbage mixed with the the odor of filth strengthening at his every step. There was no people anywhere, most of them had gone home long ago, and those who hadn't would seldom, if ever, enter this neighbourhood. The majority of the streetlights in the vicinity had malfunctioned due to the lack of maintenance of any sort; the same held true for the local waterworks. Like a dark corner in a boy's room, it was as if the civilians had completely forgotten the existence of this district.

This was a place he called home.

A distant, strange noise could be heard as he strode alone on the sidewalk. He paid it no heed, however, thinking that it was either a stray dog or a thug, both of which were common, and probably the only, life-forms around here. At least that was what he thought until he walked into an alleyway.

A sudden presence emerged from behind him. He turned and saw a shadowy figure standing just outside the reach of the dim moonlight. He frowned, first at the figure's apparent creepiness and its utter wordlessness.

Satisfied that it had gotten his attention, the figure seemed to smirk as it raised its arm. "Just a quick question. You don't happen to know this man, do you?"

Only then did he realized it was a piece of photograph that it held in its hand. He shifted his gaze to the photo and studied it in spite of the darkness. It was a picture of a young man, who looked maybe sixteen years of age, or perhaps even younger. His pale, gemstone-like blue eyes along with his alabaster hair and tanned skin gave off a strange aura of foreignness. He could recognize the boy in the picture at first glance - he knew him well.

He looked up to stare at the figure in the eye, or at least where he thought its eyes should be. "No, I don't."

Visibly displeased, the figure slowly withdrew the photo into one of the pocket of its jacket with one hand, while making a complex sign with the other.

Next moment, something - three of them, in fact - leaped from the top of the building and landed beside the two men.

For once, he looked concerned.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough," the figure spoke again, this time with a slight edge of hostility in its tone. "Do you know him, or not?"

There was no immediate reply, he was more concerned about the three new comers. As far as he could tell, each of them wore a suit of kelvar armor along with matching gas mask; and they were all armed with MP5 submachine guns, fully-loaded and ready to blast his head into smithereens.

After giving the entire situation a second thought, he replied. "No."

Strangely, the smug smile returned to the wraithlike figure's face. It signaled at the three before slowly disappearing into the shadows. "Kill him, and take your time."

A series of gunshots cut through the quiet night.

To the three men's surprise, their target was unscathed; in fact, he didn't even flinch a bit from their 9mm parabellum bullets. No sooner had they stopped firing did he began charging one of the gunners. He was fast and agile for a man of his size. His first victim was too stunned to react. The larger man's shoulder slammed into his chest without resistance. A sickening, cracking sound followed, and the man flew back a few yards before crashing into the brick wall.

His companions looked on with bewilderment, and it took them some time before they renewed their assault. In unison, they cocked their guns at their target and resumed firing.

As expected, most of the shots bounced off his torso with no visible effect. Oblivious to the gunfire, he closed in as he drew his back his fist; sudden, awesome power came to it.

"Vapor... cannon..!" The fist slammed into the shoulder of one man. It all happened too quick, the dupe could do little as his left shoulder dissolved into a massive stream of energy. His entire arm came off. In place of blood and flesh and bone, however, there were wires and glistening oil and sparks pouring from the crushed joint.

He frowned in sudden realization. They were no humans but cyborgs - not unlike himself.

Then he turned to face the third, and the last, of the cyborgs; only to realize that it wasn't there. In its place stood a young man - the very same lad from the photo earlier. His red gaunlet dripped glistening oil and under his right heel laid a hugh lumb of burned, trashed metal in a humanoid shape.

"You're late."

There was a brief pause as K' stared at the empty hand of Maxima. "Didn't you get any cigarettes?"

"Uh, I forgot." He almost sounded like he was apologizing.

"Rats," K' cursed under his breath as he quietly surveyed the scene where the battle - a slaughter to be exact - had taken place. His eyes rested on the ravaged cyborgs, which seemed no more than a child's discarded doll.

"Think this has anything to do with... N.E.S.T.S?"

"I hope not."

That was about three months ago.

Many similar incidents followed. Day in and night out, the dynamic duo had been prosecuted by countless pursuers. The random assaults came so frequently that they had almost became a daily routine; that, of course, didn't make them any less vexing.

Maxima looked out of the window. Just how many people wanted them dead?

It was early. The sky still held the pale yellow if dawn, though darker streaks showed where the deeper orange of daylight was beginning to break through. Maxima had risen before sunrise because he had had a little too much on his mind, and cyborgs didn't really need to sleep as much as normal humans do.

And now, along with some helping hands, it's time they set things straight. Maxima listened to the soft breathing of the other passengers asleep in the same cart and smiled.

To be continued...