Watched the new Dune movie, really good. After talking with some people about it and reflecting on it, it's kind of more a movie for the book readers. But hey, I read the book, so I'm happy.

A freight train trundled through the forests; big wheels chugged along strong rails that had been settled down where trees were cleared, rocks crushed and the earth readied.

The train charged through at an imposing pace, such that anything which passed in front of it—even Grimm—would be plowed and crushed beneath the tons of weight. Its cars were full of lumber and stone, heavy goods that the hearty land of Atlas provided best.

On top of one freight car, a dark figure sat. It was bundled up in heavy wool clothing, such that not a speck of their skin could one see. It sat there quietly, unmoving except when the train itself bumped or rattled below.

The train headed to the southwest. It kept track of itself on its internal mapping system. The railroad would keep running on before pitching south, at which point it would need to disembark. But by then, it would be very close indeed to the point of interest.

The Pursuer could already sense its target getting further again, likely trekking off into the ocean. This only supported its suspicions. The city of Boggindorf was near.

And its quarry could run only so long.

"It's been about a week now," the mayor said, "but it feels like yesterday."

"I'm sure it does," the man said. "Such an incredible event, I'm sure it will stick around in your memory for quite some time."

"Oh definitely!"

She sat behind her big mahogany desk. Sitting opposite her was a spindly man with a curt smile and grey eyes that seemed as reflective and glassy as the spectacles as he wore. Sitting beside him was a golden-eyed woman who smiled with her sharp teeth.

"I never thought our town would be featured in the Atlas Times!" the woman said. She jittered with excitement that outmatched her old body. "Oh, it's just wonderful!"

"Well, I certainly hope the story gets finalized," the man said. "My editor has the taste of a five-year-old. Man would rather have chicken tenders than lobster.

"Here's hoping the upcoming Atlas dog show doesn't usurp this town's incredibly story."

The truth was—and Sundown knew this, of course—that a long story about the Atlas dog show was set to star in the Atlas Times soon. His contact on the editorial staff always kept him up to date.

A journalist researching a story that would tragically be paved over by trite nonsense happened to be a most excellent cover.

The office door opened, and in came a stout man with a big bushy beard and a sheriff's badge pinned onto his vest.

"Ah Mulligan!" the mayor said. "Pleased that you could make it. This"– she pointed at Sundown –"is Mr. Harrington, Red Harrington. And this"– she pointed at Moonlight –"is Ms. Lott, Lyla Lott."

"A pleasure to meet you both."

"The pleasure is ours." Sundown took out a notepad. "We're excited to cover this town."

"We want to make sure that our readers know not just what happened, but what it feels like to have been here while it happened," Moonlight continued. "We want to be thorough about every facet of this event."

"I can help you in whatever way I can," Mulligan said. "Where do you want to start?"

"Firstly, we're very interested in the intrepid hero who stepped in."

"Oh Streetlamp." The mayor clapped her hands together and hummed with grandmotherly warmth. "What a nice boy."

"That was pure fate," Mulligan said. "Thought he was a drifter, but he turned out to be just the hero we needed."

"And why did he come off as a drifter?"

"He was just out late at night by the beach, loitering. Not the best first impression to make with an officer of the law."

"What was he doing?"

"Loitering."

"Ah, of course."

"He's not here anymore, though, right?" Moonlight asked. "The mayor told us he needed to leave town quite quickly."

"Yeah that's right," Mulligan said.

"And why was that," Sundown asked. "We would have loved to speak to him firsthand."

"Said he needed to meet up with his dad."

"Is that so?"

Watts sat back and sighed. He sipped at his tea and relished its earthy taste. In the comfort of his own home once more and with wounds fully healed, he felt himself for the first time in a while.

And the warm smugness of someone who got away with doing something bad comforted him like a cozy fire.

He sat at his dining room table, and across from him sat Omsk. She coughed into her elbow and shook her head.

"I don't get how you can be so relaxed," she said. "I haven't slept at all this month."

"I'm calm more than I'm relaxed," Watts answered. He sipped his tea, sighed and set the porcelain cup down on its platter. "They have no way to trace it to either of us or suspect us."

Omsk coughed into her sleeve again. "Ugh, and I've caught a cold or something, I think. My throat has been acting up the last few days." She pulled a cough drop out of her pocket and threw it in her mouth.

"Sure you don't want any tea?"

"I'm a coffee person."

"Of course," Watts said. "Well, we're not completely out of the clear. For instance, they've bugged my house."

"What!?" Omsk hopped out of her seat and whirled around, glancing wide eyed here and there, wondering where the microphones and cameras could be.

"Oh relax, some of the first things I started working on for Atlas were programs made to sniff out bugs." Watts patted his chest, hitting his breast pocket. "I've got a few trackers and blockers that will basically put the bugs on loop once they're detected. Whoever's trying to listen won't know a thing.

"And if it doesn't work, then I'm afraid we're dead." He laughed and stroked his mustache as Omsk's eyes bugged out of her skull.

"You!" She visibly shook now, induced so by a mix of anger, frustration, fear and pure anxiety. "You…" She shook her head, giving up and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Listen," Watts said. "The best thing to do right now is stay calm. Stay calm and accept the fact that we won."

"And what about the Pursuer?" Omsk asked. "Isn't it heading southwest? Like, after the Deceiver?"

"Oh please." Watts waved the idea away like a foul odor. "It's just that idiot Irkutsk screwing up the programming. I must admit that I'm disappointed some of my work has gone rogue like that, but my time on the project was just about done anyway."

He smiled.

"You and me, I believe, are going to be transferred back to our first project."

Omsk's eyes lit up. "That?" She sat back down in her seat. "I though they discontinued that because, well, morality and all…"

"Some clearer heads have convinced our good general. Hah, especially after the frailty of the synthetic mind made itself known."

"Hm…" Excitement simmered in Omsk's eyes as she chewed on her cough drop. "I did quite like that one… it was very interesting."

"Interesting, indeed." He sipped from his teacup again and sighed with great satisfaction. "The whole android program is in disarray, nobody suspects us and we're able to get back to some of our favored work. What's not to love?"

Omsk allowed herself to grin a nasty little grin. "And they're gonna really throw 'em off the trail soon, too."

"That they are."

"You really think it's Watts?" Moonlight asked.

"I think he's more of a suspect now than he was before," Sundown replied.

The pair stalked along the edge of the oceanside cliffs that ran down the town's seaside border. They looked at the crashed lighthouse.

"Before," Sundown continued, "it was just a matter of paranoia. Suspect everyone, even the victim. Now, there's something real to go off of. The motive still isn't quite there, so we might be missing something."

"The guy might just be a self-obsessed and power-hungry a-hole who wants to get ahead of everyone else."

"Very possible." Sundown frowned. "There are certainly many people like that."

"Oh, lots. And it's hard to tell them out."

"That it is."

They meandered around the town for a while, heading up to the motel that the officer had mentioned.

"Watts did say that he never considered himself the Deceiver's father," Sundown noted. "And everybody else attested to that. Never spent time with the kid. Hard to see how they might have formed any relationship, let alone a conspiratorial one."

"A lie the Deceiver told?" Moonlight asked. "Just convince everyone here that he's a kid who wants to see his family."

"Perhaps."

They reached the motel, Bogginhome, and spoke with the owner there.

"Yeah, came here with a group."

"You remember the others?"

"No. It was dark, and they covered their faces. Paid in cash, and I don't ask questions; those drive away business."

"They do anything noteworthy while here?"

"I mean, a couple guys from the dock came up to haul a crate out their room."

"Really?"

"Yeah, a big crate."

"Big enough to, say, fit a person in?"

"Um, I guess?"

"Do you know where it was headed?"

"Nope."

The two left the motel and strolled down to the docks. There they spoke with a worker who informed them that a small freight ship had left a few days ago. It was heading to Vacuo.

They meandered back up to the town square.

"I guess that explains why he fought the Grimm," Moonlight said. "I wondered why he would give himself away like that, rather than just skip town. Guess he didn't want to miss his ride."

"I'm inclined to agree."

"Also, Watts has talked up how much he wants to go on vacation to Vacuo right away."

"That he has."

"Odd coincidence."

"That it is."

They stopped in front of a flower shop in the square.

The owner looked up from her daffodils. "Why hello there!" She said as they stepped in. "What can I do for you?"

"We were informed that Streetlamp Salad liked your shop?"

The owner told them both about how the boy earnestly helped her move her flower cart in exchange for a single Edelweiss flower; he showed a special appreciation for that kind of flower, an endearing infatuation. Oddly, he said that it was his favorite flower, but he did not know why.

Moonlight bought a lavender perfume—both out of curtesy for her time and because it actually smelled pretty good—and they left.

"He really likes Edelweiss," she said as she pocketed the little glass of perfume. "Don't think we have any more doubts about this being our guy."

"No, I don't think we do." They strolled through the quant square and sat down on the edge of its bubbling little fountain.

"We can talk to a few more locals. That bar, for instance. Otherwise, I think we should prepare to move our search to Vacuo. Rally a fleet of drones to go up and down the shipping lanes and find the one he's on. Hopefully, we can retrieve him at sea before we need to start violating international borders."

"As if Vacuo has borders, and as if anybody cares if you violate them."

"Vale doesn't like us getting too nosy with the goings on down there. Reminds them that they can't do the same."

"Still, it'd just be easier to catch him on the seas."

"Agreed."

"And—" Sundown shut his mouth without saying another word. Moonlight looked in the same direction.

A bulky hulk of a figure walked down the street and through the square. It was clad head-to-toe in thick, wooly clothes that allowed for not a speck of skin to be shown. Each step weighed heavily on the pavement below it.

Sundown and Moonlight looked at each other. They nodded.

Both strolled up to the big figure. It slowly plodded along, scanning the area through its ski goggles.

"Hello there friend," Sundown called.

The big thing spared a look over its shoulder. It kept walking.

"I can tell they didn't invest too much in the way of helping you blend in," Sundown said. "Usually when people say hello you reply. Otherwise, people might get a little suspicious of you.

"Pursuer."

The thing stopped. It turned around. Now, through its dark goggles, a concentrated red glow just barely penetrated.

Sundown smiled and ambled up to the android, Moonlight just beside. She kept her hand resting on her waist, ready to draw her pistol at a moment's notice. Sundown similarly kept his arms crossed, ready to draw his own. Both smiled.

The Pursuer hunched its shoulders, ready for a fight.

"No need for that," Sundown said. "I have a proposition for you."

The leather gloves that covered the Pursuer's hand creaked as it tightened its fists. It reared its arms back slightly, ready for jackhammer-style punches.

"Don't you want to know more about what you're chasing?"

The Pursuer did not move.

"I propose an exchange of information. I tell you about your quarry, and you tell me why you're chasing it in the first place.

"But where are my manners." He held out his hand. "My name is Agent Sundown of the Atlas Intelligence Service, and I'm very excited to work with you."

The Pursuer looked at the hand suspiciously. It scanned the area, looking for an ambush.

"It's just us two," Moonlight said. "We actually were hoping to run into you. We don't want to cause a scene; fighting a robot in broad daylight in the middle of a town sort of goes against our policies of being discreet."

"And we really have so much to gain from each other over the course of even just one conversation." Sundown kept his hand outstretched.

The Pursuer glared down at him.

It took Sundown's hand in its own.

"Would you like to try our orange-mocha frappuccino combo deal?"

"I would rather die," Sundown politely informed the barista. He took the two coffees from her and got back to the little booth shared by him, Moonlight and the Pursuer.

Their 'friend' took up an entire side of the booth on its own, and the wood that formed its seat creaked ominously under its weight.

Sundown passed a drink to Moonlight, who sipped gently from her steaming cup. He gulped down a swig of his own cold-brew and sighed contentedly.

"What do you know. What do you want to know." The Pursuer spoke in a clipped, unnatural voice. The syllables started and stopped like a car having engine problems.

"Irkutsk told us you were quite smart," Sundown said. "I'm glad that that extends to the ability to negotiate."

"We want to know what happened back at the lab," Moonlight said. "We want to know why you started tracking what you are. Then we'll tell you more about just what you're chasing."

The Pursuer's glowing red eyes were just faintly visible behind the black ski goggles. That glow quickly snapped to a faint white.

"This unit was activated," the Pursuer stated. "The individual that this unit's recognition systems did not recognize had opened this unit's access terminal. The individual was deemed hostile, for they were not on the accepted accessor registry.

"This unit attempted to stop the individual by engaging physical intervention."

"You got in a fight."

"Yes. The individual was classified as an interloper and engaged. The interloper possessed formidable physical skills that allowed it to dodge initial attempts to subjugate, even possessing enough strength to deflect attempts to grab. This unit classified it as a high danger which qualified greater force."

"And you threw the guy up into the roof," Moonlight said. She took another sip. "He hit his back against the ceiling, right?"

"Correct. This unit delivered an uppercut to the interloper which sent them up into the ceiling. When the interloper came down again, they evaded this unit's attacks and sprinted for the terminal again.

"This unit realized it may not reach the interloper in time to stop it from disabling or deactivating this unit." The Pursuer raised its right hand. "Thus, a tracking dart was shot into the interloper and pursuit protocol was engaged. The interloper deactivated the Pursuer promptly."

"And when you woke up again, you immediately started following the guy."

"Correct."

"You even ignored the orders of your own creators to go on this mission."

"Pursuit protocol has been engaged."

The way that that android said it was absolute, as if it was answering 'because gravity exists' to a question about why an apple falls from a tree. It was a fact of life, something that could not be changed. Pursuit protocol has been engaged.

"So your entire purpose right now is to find your target. Let nothing stop you," Moonlight said. "You even edited yourself at your terminal so you couldn't be brought down by keyword or remote signal."

"Correct."

"Well then, I have to thank you for shedding quite a lot of light on the situation," Sundown said with a smile. He took another swig of his brew and licked his lips. "Now, I suppose you want us to uphold our side of the bargain."

"Correct."

"Well, I am nothing if not a man of my word," he replied. "I'm sure you'll find this helpful. After all, tracking your brother will certainly not be an easy task."

"Brother?" For the first time in their conversation, the Pursuer's speech sounded as if it had some genuine emotion: curiosity.

"Yes, your brother. Arthur Watts was the lead on both of your projects, after all."

So, Sundown went into detail about their side of the investigation. He explained that the Pursuer's quarry was none other than its 'brother' the Deceiver. Its fraternal target could disguise itself as just about anybody, making it especially illusive. But the Pursuer's tracking dart (which was almost microscopic and almost entirely indetectable to all but the Pursuer itself) should allow the android to cut right through it's brother disguises. Still, it's a wily target. It seemed sort of stupid, but that didn't negate its danger. After all, it had gone rogue. It was the agents' belief that the Deceiver had edited its own code—its latent memory, to be exact—using the Pursuer's own terminal. It accidentally activated the Pursuer simultaneously, resulting in their present situation. How or why it edited itself is unknown, but the current theory is that it did so to cause the glitch in its own system that necessitated transport for repairs. That created the opportunity for its escape. The Deceiver is working with dangerous forces, and caution is certainly advised. Right now, he's a on a ship headed to Vacuo, planning to meet with his cohorts there, one of whom includes the scorpion Faunus Tyrian Callows.

"And that's pretty much all there is to it," Sundown said. He drank down the rest of his cold-brew and chucked the cup over his shoulder, landing it perfectly in the trash can.

"You have a knack for that," Moonlight commented.

"A lot of practice."

The Pursuer cut into their banter. "This is all you know of the target."

"That it is. I'm glad we could help clear things up for each other."

"Will you inform other Atlas personnel of your meeting with this unit?"

"Oh absolutely not," Sundown said with a laugh. "This is pretty against protocol."

"Our little alliance," Moonlight said, "is strictly off the books. The brass would be furious if they knew about this."

"But you're too useful"– Sundown looked the Pursuer up and down, as if appraising a prime cut of steak on the rack –"to not have on this case with us. I've been looking forward to working with you for a long time. I don't suppose you'd be interested in coming back and working with us side-by-side."

"You are not to be trusted. The goals of Atlas personnel to retrieve this unit may interfere in pursuit."

"Of course, I didn't expect you to agree." Sundown pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. "But there's still something I'm curious about: what are you going to do when you catch the Deceiver?"

"Termination."

"Really? I guess that would make you something of a Termina—"

"Anyway," Moonlight interjected, "we would really appreciate if you don't destroy the Deceiver too much. It might be a traitor, but it is still an extremely valuable piece of military technology. Surely, you understand the importance of that; you're an Atlas agent yourself, after all."

"This unit is dedicated to pursuit," the android said. "Pursuit and destruction are the objectives."

"And what will you do after that?"

It was like dividing by zero in a calculator. The Pursuer stared into space.

"This unit has not considered that."

"You've just focused on the pursuit."

"Correct."

The Pursuer paused.

"This unit will return to Atlas authorities."

"Good boy," Sundown said with a smile. He reached into his pocket, prompting the Pursuer to raise one of its hands, ready to block an attack. Sundown, however, only pulled out his wallet. From that, he slipped out a business card.

"When your work is done," he said, "please give us a call. We'll come retrieve you and your brother's remains."

Moonlight's lips parted up into a smile that showed off her sharp incisors. "It's wonderful that we can establish this working relationship."

The Pursuer spared a glance down at the business card. Then it got up and walked away. Its big feet thumped against the café's creaky wooden floorboards. The bell chimed as it walked out the door.

"You think it'll actually call?"

"Its memory is photographic. It'll call."

Moonlight finished her drink, which had gone cold, and handed it to Sundown as they stood up. He threw it over his shoulder, landing it right in the trash can. They were almost at the door when the barista spoke up behind them:

"What was all that about?"

Sundown turned, eyebrow raised quizzically. "What was what about?"

"All that about androids, military tech, him killing his brother and stuff." The barista tilted her head, curious and a little concerned. "It sounded pretty intense."

"You… you heard that?"

"It's a pretty small café, and you all weren't exactly talking quietly."

"It's a script reading," Moonlight said quickly. "For our screenplay."

The barista lit up. "Oh, you're working on a screenplay too?"

"Yeah, so are you?"

"I'm a barista, of course I am." She tapped her nails against the counter. "Though, if I could make a few recommendations, the story sounds sort of overdone. I mean, there's been a lot of things about killer robots already. Kind of unoriginal."

"Well—"

"And you guy are really dragging out the set-up, don't you think?"

"What if the author just wants to satisfy some of the audience's curiosity and offer some clarity?" Sundown asked. "Is that so bad?"

"I guess so. Though the focus should really be on the main character too, right? You don't want to write yourself into a situation where the main character isn't even getting most of the coverage."

"I'm sure the author will get to that right away after this point."

"That's a pretty long intro arc, don't you think?"

"Your criticism is valid and appreciated," Sundown said, "but we really have to get going."

"I just hope you guys don't write any cheesy fourth wall breaking stuff!"

The bell chimed, the door opened, they walked out and the door closed behind them.

"Yeesh," Moonlight said. "That was weird."

"No time to ruminate on creative writing theory," Sundown said. He pointed down the street, where the Pursuer marched on toward the seaside. "Let's see if he goes where I think he's going."

They followed the Pursuer from a distance. They waited at the top of the cliffs when the Pursuer headed down the stony path to the beach. They watched as it kept walking straight into the ocean. It waded in knee deep, waist deep, shoulder deep. Its head disappeared below the waves, and it was gone.

Haha, I've gotten kind of self-conscious about how long this arc is taking, so next chapter things are really gonna pick up and focus on our good robo boy.

I also hope my new strategy with shorter chapters is working well. The goal is to have digestible snippets that people like reading relatively quickly. For me, it's a lot easier to get through a book if I can flip a few pages ahead and see a section break or chapter end. That way I can read in clear sections.

Anyway, chuck out a review to tell what you like or don't like about the story so far. And if you're enjoying the story, follow to stay updated! And throw a fav in too to make the story more visible.