AN: This took me a while. Life's is hectic, but you know that.
There were more scenes in this chapter initially, but they didn't do favours for the pacing, so they were moved to the next one. I guess this is the start of the next arc though! Yay, Craft!
Only noteworthy thing I have to say is I have bit the bullet and make this fic M rated. That does not mean there's gonna be like, sex in this thing, but the violence and the dark topics are getting a bit too much for a T rating.
FFNET ONLY NOTE: For real, im not sure why fanfic net breaks the build model nomenclature in this fic (the \ #no . X X \ or \ #no. X Y \). It works normally on Ao3. so just letting you all know, the formatting works there.
CHAPTER 7
It had been a week since Neige Wolf last saw the light of day.
Or atleast, so she thought. It was hard for her to keep track of the days in the cramped confines of a cell.
The Neo Arcadian brig was nothing short of agonizing. The beds were bare concrete slabs, privacy was non-existent, with guards lingering like a bad smell at every hour. Food was offered in the form of barely edible scraps that were never enough to truly stave off her hunger. The isolation was mind numbing, and the constant shrieks and wails of distant prisoners and soldiers was making her ears ring. Neige wasn't sure how much longer she could handle living in such squalor.
The conditions were hardly hospitable to a reploid, much less a human. It was a cruel punishment, all because she dedicated herself to the pursuit of truth and knowledge in Neo Arcadia.
And then there was the ache she felt being apart from Craft. She couldn't help but wonder how the volatile reploid was coping without her.
In the end, none of her physical discomfort could compare to the pain that Axl's death had inflicted on her. Axl was gone, and that hurt more than anything else.
Was she next? It was hard to say. It was well documented to Resistance folk that X didn't exactly have reservations with killing humans, he just kept that under wraps to the ignorant masses. In fact, Neige blowing the whistle on that reality was probably what ultimately landed her in a high security penitentiary. On the other hand, X didn't often resort to murder when dealing with humans. Perhaps, because humans, soft and fragile as they are, posed no real threat to the superhuman strength of Megaman X and his empire. Neige was different though. She wasn't physically powerful compared to a combat reploid, but her writings put the public's trust in X in jeopardy. X relied on obedience, and he extinguished insurrection like a discarded cigarette.
If he had ordered the death of his own son, what was stopping him from disposing of her, a relative stranger that was but a minor annoyance to the tyrant king?
Water dripped from the ceiling with a constant drum. In the confines of her cell, the thrumming felt like it was drilling into her skull.
Neige heaved a defeated sigh, turning over on her side to watch the leak in the ceiling. There was nothing else to focus on but the puddle forming on the cell floor, droplets falling every other second.
She didn't know what day it was, but one thing was for certain; in here, her days were numbered.
Was there anything she would've done differently? She could name a few things, but she regretted little of her life as a journalist in the cruel city of Neo Arcadia.
A drop fell, sending ripples flowing through the puddle. She had lived her life honestly, and delivered the truth to the people, as gruesome and ugly as it was. People needed to know of the reploid disposal facilities, where men, women and children were slayed en masse like livestock in an abattoir, of the thoughtless eradication of entire settlements to make way for Neo Arcadian developments. It was their right to know.
The puddle's surface rippled, but there was no droplet falling from the leaky ceiling. Neige perked up, eyes widening as she slowly sat up from her concrete bed. The puddle rippled again without a leak to warrant it, and a few stray pebbles began to rattle and shake across the floor.
Was it an earthquake? It wasn't exactly an impossibility in Somalia. Even then, Neo Arcadia had been designed to mitigate the impact of natural disasters.
The ground rumbled again, rocks tumbling around and waves forming in puddles. Neige furrowed her brow. Well that's not right.
Neige startled at the distant sounds of conflict outside the halls. There were commands being barked out, only for their voices to be snuffed out shortly thereafter, their gunfire silenced chillingly abruptly. The two guards outside her cell stood alert, rifles at the ready as they approached the entrance to the hallway, prepared to confront the threat beyond the doors.
A familiar gruff voice drowned out the commotion of the Neo Arcadian soldiers. Neige got to her feet and rushed forward to grip at her jail bars, waiting for the only reploid she knew who could unleash such ferocity.
The doors to the hallway were knocked down with a single kick, revealing the foreboding silhouette of a towering, bloodthirsty war machine, dripping in viscera from head to toe.
"Craft?!"
Craft gave Neige a quick addressing glance before returning to the task at hand. He barely gave the guards a chance to fire, shrugging off their blaster shots and lunging forward in a blur, wrenching their weapons from their hands to crack them over his knee and stunning them momentarily in the flurry.
The warbot charged forward at the stunned officers, crashing a fist into a soldier's face and sending him to the floor, goring the reploid's head against the concrete with enough force to leave a crater in his wake.
Neige winced.
The last officer frantically felt for his buster at his belt, scrambling away as quickly as his legs permitted before firing wildly at Craft, knocking him back with a volley of plasma bolts. The large reploid was not swayed in his assault, instead charging forward to swing a punishing punch into the soldier's face, shattering his helm, following it up with an uppercut into his gut, the officer hacking out a rattling sputter of blood upon impact.
Craft didn't let up, his massive hand engulfing the reploid's battered skull with an iron grip and slamming him against the wall, the officer's head smashing apart with a deafening crunch and leaving a messy red splatter on the wall, where cracks splintered through the concrete from the force of the blow.
The soldier went limp, his body falling to the ground in a visceral heap. With the immediate threats nullified, Craft set his sights on Neige.
"Craft?! What the hell are you doing?" Neige exclaimed.
Craft jogged over, grabbing the lifeless hand of one of the dead guards and scanning his palm on the cell's locking console. "Getting you out of here, of course."
The guards' bioanalytics granted him access to Neige's cell door, and after he punched in a few commands, the cell door slid open. "How'd you get in here-?!"
Craft pulled Neige free before she could finish that thought, stealing the blaster from the guard's lifeless hands and thrusting the butt in Neige's chest, the reporter fumbling it into her grasp. "I know my way around here. Follow me."
After a miserable number of days in the brig, Neige wasn't going to argue with that idea. Hidden in Craft's formidable shadow, she followed the massive reploid out into the main corridors, taken aback by the destruction her best friend had single handedly wrought upon the prison. The maimed corpses of Neo Arcadian soldiers lay strewn out across the floor, some too mangled for Neige to parse which body part was which anymore.
He had done it all just to get to her. Neige wasn't sure if she should've been flattered or horrified.
"You big idiot… You could've gotten killed doing this!" Neige reminded him as the two found the fire escape, hurrying downstairs.
"What? You mean you don't have faith in me?" Craft snidely shot back. Neige harrumphed and shook her head, offering nothing in response. They escaped to the ground floor with few pursuers on their tails, but the main halls of the brig were already beginning to fill with low ranking soldiers called onto the scene to confront him. "Watch my back."
As the jailbirds stormed through the corridors, Craft struck down mass produced pantheons headlong, mauling their units with the brutality of a raging bull. Neige followed close behind, covering her rescuer's backside with blasterfire, cleaning up after him as he effortlessly rammed through countless prison guards, making quick work of disassembling them with his bare hands.
Craft's rampage eventually came to an end in the main halls, finally clearing out the pantheons sent after him after upending their commander onto his shoulder blades and driving a combat knife through his skull. Neige nervously padded over to his side as he retracted his blade from the pantheon commander's face and stood at his full height. She could feel waves of heat radiate off his body, the warbot breathing in hard through his nose and out through his chest vents.
"Ugh… That should buy us some time before they send reinforcements our way." Craft flicked open a storage compartment on his wrist, taking out a small warp device and handing it to Neige. "There's a spatial folding inhibitor here interfering with our transervers' four-dimensional convergence mechanism."
"Oh, great."
"The good news is that it's only effective within a five mile vicinity of the brig." Craft offered her a console wristband, and she snapped it around her wrist, plugging the transwarp apparatus into one of its ports. "I've installed a couple escape routes and a map of the region in that thing."
Neige flicked through the series of escape routes, skimming over each one and their approximate viability. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Craft offered her a small smile. "Neither would I."
It was a much needed moment of respite for the both of them. It would be cut short seconds later.
A thunderous falcon's cry sliced through the silence, making Neige jolt with fright. Craft stood at attention, ready to spring into action once more.
"Harpuia… shit."
The air general and his SIC, Aztec Falcon, were coming in hot on Craft's radar. He scanned the hall, before spotting a large wall vent, consulting the brig's ventilation system hidden deep within his old Neo Arcadian databanks. He grabbed Neige by the hand, the redhead yelping in surprise as she was hastily dragged away.
"What are you doing?!"
Craft snapped the vent's grill off the wall, kneeling down to pick Neige up and funnel her into the air ducts. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting you out of here."
"Craft… What about you?"
"I'll be fine," he insisted, but the promise rang hollow to Neige's ears. "Go, I'll take care of things here."
"You'll die here!" Neige insisted, her voice starting to quiver. "I'm going with you."
"I can't let you do that. Please, just… run, Neige," Craft pleaded. "What you know is too valuable for us to lose. You're too valuable for me to lose."
"Craft…" Neige's hesitance was unchanging. "Promise me you'll be okay."
The warbot huffed a weary sigh. "I'll try. For you, Neige, and for everyone else," he conceded. "The warp coordinates are already set for you, you just need to prime them. Don't forget to carry the three."
Neige gazed at him with glossy eyes, shaking her head in defeat. There was no argument she could make to change his mind. "I never forget. Goodbye, Craft."
"Goodbye, Neige. I-" His words caught in his throat. "I'll come home. Some day."
With one last look shared between the two, Neige swallowed her pride and begrudgingly heeded Craft's command, scurrying away into the depths of the air ducts.
A beat passed as Craft watched her disappear, making sure she was completely out of sight before setting out on the warpath once more, taking a reading of the heat signatures in his surroundings as he surmised the best means of escape for himself.
The C-21 gate was close by. Soldiers were converging on the scene, encircling him. Harpuia's forces were approaching. There was no other way out for him other than straight ahead. He raged on, hyper-aware of Harpuia's ID swiftly closing in on him.
"-Wooooah there motherfucker-"
He barely managed to hurdle a reploid barrelling towards him as a small platoon of soldiers came bearing down on him, forcing him to a stop with a barrage of buster shots pinging off his armour. He shielded his face from their assault with an arm, as though their plasma bolts were nothing more than an intense ray of light.
"Don't move!" their commander ordered when the gunfire ceased, aiming a rifle squarely at his head. "We have you surrounded!"
Craft decompressed, burning hot steam hissing from his cooling vents. He crooked his head side to side. "I know."
The shot aimed for his head sailed far right when Craft lunged forward, backhanding the commander's weapon out of his grasp, dropping his helm to slam his shoulder into his opponent, handily decleating him and laying him out flat on his back. Craft pinned him down with a heavy boot and forced a heaving gasp from the pit of his chest, waiting for one of his subordinates to rush him with a plasma dagger just to block the strike with his forearm. The warbot snatched a pistol from the soldier's holster with his free arm and blasted a hole clean through his chest, before turning to the commander beneath his boot and aiming a charged shot at his head, sending a spray of his helm's insides splattering across the ground.
Craft made as much use of the soldier's pistol as he could, aiming a few precision shots at his assailants and wearing down their numbers until the pistol fired dry, the hammer striking with a click. He threw it aside, squaring up with tightly balled fists at the remaining stragglers facing off against him, struggling to find the wherewithal to slough off their blaster fire for much longer after having faced wave after wave of enemies.
"That'll be enough from you."
Craft stupidly assumed he had the situation under control as he finished off the last of the reinforcements sicced on him, only to come face to face with Sage Harpuia, the small emerald general standing proper with his hands clasped behind his back. Heavy duty soldiers quickly surrounded him, training large spearguns in his direction.
Upon eye-contact with the air general, Craft hesitated for a split second, a fatal mistake. When he came to, he charged towards him with a roar, his opponent, unflinching, motioned to his men, their cannons firing off harpoons that wrangled him back with tethered spears, lassoing his arms and legs with thick, sturdy wires. Piercing his thick armour was a useless endeavor, and Harpuia knew that well.
Craft thrashed in his restraints, but his efforts only made their grip tighten. It took a couple more harpoon tethers to finally down the large warbot in earnest, the exhausted reploid falling to his knees with a frustrated groan.
"Harpuia, sir." Aztec Falcon padded over to Harpuia's side after making sure Craft had been pinioned. "Prisoner 22183 has escaped."
Harpuia waved off the concern. "Don't waste your breath on her. It doesn't matter," he insisted, "we have acquired a far greater asset than she could ever be."
The blatant disrespect for Neige made Craft seethe, but his shackles didn't falter. Harpuia took a few steps forward to address Craft, narrowing his gaze at him. Craft scrunched his nose, face twisted in a snarl. Harpuia wasn't moved.
"Commander K-9E… It's good to see you back," Harpuia intoned, casually unsheathing a small rifle from a holster in his back. "Come for the girl, have you? How heroic."
Craft scowled, thrusting forward in a bid to strike Harpuia, but he was tugged back. Even with ten powerful soldiers holding him still, he still managed to flail and writhe. "Don't call me that."
"Whatever. You've caused quite the scene here. I'm surprised you made it this far. That being said, I see no reason why I should waste my time any longer than I have, commander." Harpuia loaded his rifle with a long, thin round. "Goodnight."
He lifted the rifle and focused its sights on Craft's head, pulling the trigger and unloading his weapon into Craft's neck with a fwipt.
Craft shut his eyes, fully expecting to have the insides of his helm painting the brig's wall at the click of the trigger, but it never came. Instead, when he opened his eyes again and looked down, he found a ballistic syringe buried deep in his neck.
"Oh. Shit…"
Within seconds, Craft fell to the ground unceremoniously, unconscious. Harpuia clambered over his body, nudging his head with his shoe to confirm such. Falcon handed him sturdy handcuffs that he quickly fastened around Craft's lax wrists in case the sedative wore off too quickly.
"Good work, men. Place him in isolation until further notice. I shall send Master X word of the events that transpired here shortly." Harpuia glared down at his fallen opponent, his eerie wide stare darkening. "Father will be pleased to know we have another Resistance figurehead in our possession… and another traitor."
A new day dawned on Neo Arcadia, the blood red run slowly rising over the horizon.
Zero didn't know what to do with himself anymore. He spent nearly every day rotting away in his bed, alone and miserable. He remained passive and listless, like he had never been woken up to begin with.
The days were monotonous, and that morning started off much the same. He woke up early, but laid in bed for another hour, unable to get himself back to sleep, but unable to find the drive to actually get up.
He rolled over, staring out the window at the early rays of the morning sun, the city of Neo Arcadia bustling below at the base of X's ivory tower, its denizens going about their morning routine, content with their places in X's corrupt vision. Zero couldn't stand it. It was wrong- his stomach twisted whenever he so much as contemplated how incomprehensibly incorrect everything felt. He had to get out, away from the city and away from X.
It was just a matter of how he would pull off such a feat that was the issue. He was nothing anymore. X made that abundantly clear to him- without X, Zero was no one in Neo Arcadia. He needed X, for he lacked any real importance without him, yet he was consumed by a fear of the blue emperor that was driving the two of them further apart than they had ever been before.
Zero was growing restless. He sat up with a dejected moan, running his fingers through his messy golden locks. He slouched over and wrapped an arm around his waist, shuddering, sick to his stomach, lightheaded and faint from his nerves. He needed a shower.
Zero stripped himself of his vest and codpiece on his way to the bathroom, and to one of the few comforts he had left.
The spray of water was warm, the gentle drumming of the shower against his back soothing his tired body and weary mind. He sat down on the cold tile floor and curled into himself, holding his knees up to his chest.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to so badly that he felt like purging his stomach and his body was weak and his head pounded with a dull ache, but there were no tears to shed for the Wily-bot. He wished for his strength and his weapons and most importantly his friends back, just so he could have a fleeting chance of breaking out of Neo Arcadia… but he had nothing but X left, and X wouldn't have had it any other way.
Zero wasn't sure he could take much more of it. There had to be some way to contact the Resistance- if Axl could've managed such while still affiliated with Neo Arcadia, there had to be some underground means he took advantage of. Even if it meant X would have him killed for defecting and lending his power to the Resistance.
At that point, death was sounding more attractive than a prolonged stay in the citadel. He had nothing to lose.
He sighed, pressing his forehead against his knees. He wished he had his X back. His X would've been cheekily asking to join Zero in the shower. He would've been begging for Zero to come back to bed so they could snuggle a little longer. Now, they slept in different rooms. Now, X saw no issue in hurting him.
If he moped for any longer in the shower, he would've used up all the water in the citadel. Zero got off the floor with a groan, turning off the faucet. He dried himself with a bath towel in front of the mirror before taking a brush to his impressive length of hair, finding solace in a familiar grooming routine. He just wished he still had X to accompany him. He always got ready so quickly in the morning…
The brush got caught in a knot in his hair, and he winced. Ouch.
He had to stop reminiscing on the past, because it'd only hurt him. He just had to cope with the cards he was dealt in the now. Putting his clothes back on and slipping on his helmet, he set off for some fresh air.
It was late in the morning by the time Zero left his room. The morning rush hour had died down by then, leaving the halls mostly empty. Zero took the opportunity to travel to the garden terrace in solitude.
The garden was his own little escape in the citadel. The little piece of nature it offered was soothing, reminding Zero of the world that once was before the post-Elf Wars global desertification. The servants liked to mill about there too. They were a shy bunch, and Zero couldn't fault them for that. They were conditioned into being practically invisible to their superiors while they worked. They were largely mute, but their Reploid Standard was fluent enough to carry a conversation without vocalisation with the red android. Oftentimes, classes of human and reploid children scurried around, shepherded by their weary teachers, a sight that warmed Zero's heart no matter what he was feeling that day.
X didn't visit much, either.
That morning, Zero only made it up the elevator until his progress came to a halt. The sounds of soldiers marching in the next hall had Zero rushing to hide behind a pillar, fight-or-flight processes running in overdrive. The argument he had with X the other night had him on high alert, and he wasn't going to take any risks with him, even when it was just his army and not X himself.
Tentatively, he peeked around the corner when the marching got closer. A unit of soldiers led by Harpuia filed through the halls, all working to guide and preside over a massive reploid prisoner, shackled from head to toe with a thick metal band muffling his mouth. He was dragged along by a chain fastened to his neck collar, taking several soldiers at the end of his lead to keep him at bay. He was easily double the size of the soldiers around him, and they were heavy duty, berserker models, by no means small reploids.
Immediately, Zero was intrigued. He had never seen this reploid before, or anything quite like him for that matter. He checked for X's ID in the vicinity and found he was nowhere nearby. The coast was clear.
Zero emerged from behind the column and approached Harpuia's unit.
"Harpuia!" Zero called. The air general startled, eyes wide and alert, before he composed himself and ran over to stop Zero in his tracks, grabbing onto his arms and holding him still.
"Master Zero! Get back, this is an extremely dangerous maverick we have here! Be a little more careful, will you?" Harpuia chided. He gently shoved Zero back and away from the large prisoner. Zero would brush aside the hit to his dignity this time. "What do you want?"
Zero stuck his chin up at the large reploid in their possession. "His name."
Harpuia cast a fleeting glance back at the prisoner, before turning back to Zero a puzzled frown. "Him? That's Commander Craft Fenrisúlfr. K-9E13.02.2332 in your MeReAD," he answered curtly. "He's nothing but a craven maverick. Why do you care?"
MeReAD v.3.77 entry K-9E13.02.2332 - 'Commander Craft Fenrisúlfr' '\1 . X Y\, NEO ARCADIAN OFFICER TYPE REPLOID - EINHERJAR NO. 9.
Zero cocked his head at Craft quizzically. The large reploid stared onward with a blank look. "Is he with the Resistance?"
"If you have to know, then yes. He used to be one of ours," Harpuia replied, feathers ruffling just thinking about it. "Really, he isn't worth your time."
Oh, if only he knew how wrong he was. The gears were already turning in Zero's head. Craft was a Resistance commander. If he could somehow secure his survival and companionship, then with a little luck, he could gather some valuable information on escaping to the Resistance from him, and possibly even find a powerful ally in him. Perhaps, the war reploid could prove to be his ticket to freedom.
He just had to make sure he survived X's judgment first.
"Where are you taking him?" Zero asked. Harpuia bristled with impatience at Zero's bothersome questions.
"To the high court. His judgment is to be read before the Tribunal."
"Good. Then I'm coming with you."
That gave Harpuia pause. The general leaned back and tightened his lips incredulously. "Don't you have anything better to do than fuss over turncoats like him?"
"Why shouldn't a legendary maverick hunter be concerned with the maverick threats in our city? Are you forgetting who I am, Harpuia?"
Zero had to hold back the shudder of disgust whenever he feigned arrogance. He was certain it must've sounded strange to him, considering how the last trial Zero attended affected him. Regardless, his false venom seemed to work on Harpuia, the air general sighing in defeat. "Alright. I can't change your mind…"
"Lead the way."
Hesitantly, Harpuia motioned for his unit to follow. They marched off, dragging Craft along by his chains, a reploid with a taser prod making sure he was being compliant. As they traveled through the endless halls, Zero slowly lagged behind until he was walking alongside Craft.
His size was the first thing anyone noticed when he entered a room. It was as if the building quaked with every step he took. Zero was easily dwarfed in his shadow, the android looking up at the large warbot with a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. He was a rugged, wolfish man, a mountain of artificial muscle that rippled and striated with every motion, protected under a thick layer of armour. He smelled like gunpowder and burnt metal, and the red stains coating his hands and arms still looked fresh. He was intimidating… but Zero was undeniably interested in this reploid. Though he had not spoken a word to Zero, his countless scars suggested there, below his armour, trembled a troubled, yet profound history that Zero wanted to learn more about.
When Craft turned his head to look Zero up and down with a scanning glare, Zero flinched and looked elsewhere. He had been staring.
The prisoner couldn't speak with the muzzle band around his mouth, but Zero could tell he probably wouldn't have said anything anyway. Zero wasn't sure what to say either. He had a piercing deep blue gaze that carried an underlying warmth to it.
Zero was captivated. There wasn't any other reploid he had met since his resurrection who had captured him like Craft. Maybe it was the Resistance calling for him.
Despite his restraints, Zero went up a different lift than Craft and Harpuia's unit. It was too dangerous to have him in such close proximity to such a violent maverick, Harpuia had insisted. Master X wouldn't want him hurt.
Yeah, right. Zero rolled his eyes at the assumption.
In any case, the silent elevator ride offered Zero a suitable avenue to plot his next mode of action. If there was anything Zero knew about Neo Arcadia, it was that mavericks, especially those with the Resistance, faced a death sentence when caught. And then there was the fact that Craft's high rank in the Resistance put a formidable target on his head… Zero was struggling to conjure up ways to put a stop to his inevitable execution. He had failed to sway X's judgement before. Now that a schism lay between X and Zero after their argument, Zero feared that his only way out was in jeopardy.
Zero stared at the city passing by, deep in thought. X was powerful, but he was weak in resisting his selfish whims.
The red android sighed. The only currency of power he had left in their relationship was his body. If he could feign a love for him and surrender his body to X, perhaps that would placate him enough to heed Zero's pleas. It wasn't something he was exactly happy to do, but it was what it was. If X would use his words as a weapon against him, then Zero would do the same for X.
After a short wait, the elevator stopped at his destination, and Zero made his way towards the courtroom pavilion, only to stop at the glass door to X's loge, frozen by the sight of X's back.
The azure reploid hadn't noticed him. From what Zero could hear of the muffled voices through the walls, the proceedings were already underway.
There was no time for hesitation. Zero had to make his voice heard.
"The Neo Arcadian State - against - Former Neo Arcadian Commander of the Marine Corps 'Craft Fenrisúlfr' - build model \1. X Y\ K-9E13.02.2332."
Childre Inarabitta's voice brought the tribunal's soft chatter to a hush.
"Thank you, Inarabitta." Kelverian waited for Craft's muzzle to be removed before continuing, the reploid finally free to speak, though he said nothing at all. "I shall now read the judgement of the Neo Arcadian Military Tribunal."
X leaned over the balustrade, staring down the maverick standing below as Kelverian went through all the necessary protocols. X had heard this spiel so often it was going through one audial and out the next.
In all honesty, he didn't care enough to pay much attention to the proceedings. He was mostly present as an obligation.
Craft was an elusive man, even when he was a Neo Arcadian commander. He was a fine and valuable warrior, his strength rivalling even X's own.
At that point, he had met the Resistance commander so many times in battle that he knew him better as an opponent than he did as an ally. He was vicious, tearing at his enemies like an enraged beast, but he still managed to employ an exquisite technique to it all. His violence was by no means blind, rather, it was refined and calculated. He could read the opposition in mere seconds and devise a plan of attack in even fewer, all the while possessing the power to annihilate entire maverick encampments in one fell swoop. He was a perfect killing machine.
If only he wasn't so blind to X's vision. Why did he refuse to stand by him, and secure humanity's future so vehemently? Perhaps, it was simply in his nature to yearn for wanton destruction. That was the trouble with combat type reploids- X's past with Vile made that abundantly clear to him.
When X's eyes met Craft's, the warmachine shot him a damning scowl, lips pulled back in a snarl.
The proud warrior he once was to Neo Arcadia was lost to the past. He was a maverick now, and mavericks had to be exterminated with extreme prejudice.
When Kelverian began reading out a long list of charges with a droning cadence, X let his mind drift.
He gazed off into the distance, an ineffectual look crossing his features. The extent of his crimes were inconsequential to him. Whether it be a simple misdemeanor or a host of egregious felonies- did it really matter? A maverick was a maverick. When there was an energy crisis at stake, reploids had to be culled to maintain short term survival while he worked on a long term solution.
"In Count 3, the accused is charged with conspiring as an instigator and accomplice to the planning, preparation, initiation, and waging of wars of aggression for the purpose of military, political and economic domination of Neo Arcadia and its adjacent territories…"
Kelverian's voice became clear in X's head once more as he was shaken from his thoughts. X furrowed his brow.
Someone was behind him. An untranslatable ID signature. There was only one reploid X knew with such an identifying mark.
X stood upright and looked over his shoulder to find Zero pushing through the glass doors and wordlessly coming to stand at X's side.
The azure ruler stared at him with wide eyes. Zero stared politely back at him.
Eventually, X found it within himself to speak. "Zero...? What are you doing here?"
To his surprise, Zero responded with a small smile.
X almost blushed. He had forgotten just how beautiful Zero was when he smiled.
"I just wanted to be with you," Zero replied. X gave him a look up and down, wondering if he was hearing things right.
What was he getting at?
"With me…?" X's eyes flickered to and from Zero's face. He chose his words carefully, afraid of screwing things up between them further than he already had. "But after what I did the other day…"
Zero shook his head. "I know. But… I understand why you did it, X." He reached for his hand, taking it in a gentle grasp, fingers interlocking. "I get it now. I was being… unreasonable. Peace takes sacrifice. We can't be selfish, not anymore..."
It took a moment for his words to sink in for X, but when they did, his eyes lightened up with the ecstatic realisation. "Zero… I knew you'd finally understand. I know how hard everything is for you. It's hard for me too…" X shuffled closer to Zero, flush against his side, his arm snaking around the red warbot's waist as the two gave audience to the tribunal's judgement. "I love you, Zero. More than you could ever know."
Though he didn't reply in kind, Zero hummed affirmatively in response before the warbot fell silent again.
As much as he could make him hurt at times, Zero would always remain his pillar. He was his hero, his guiding light.
X smiled, basking in the warm glow of Zero's love. He knew he was right.
Zero felt the cold chill of disgust creep up his spine when he felt X's arm slip around his waist.
"Count 13 charges the accused with disclosing classified government documents with extremist militia. Count 14 charges the accused with…"
He had to put on a brave face if he was going to convince X of anything. Panic was only going to incite X's rage. He didn't know when his next chance to escape Neo Arcadia would come about. He just needed to wait for the right time to make himself heard.
"Count 22 charges the accused with commandeering the destruction of critical public property and infrastructure with intentions to influence the Neo Arcadian government by intimidation to advance an ideological cause. Count 23 to 27 charges the accused with hijacking public infrastructure at Aegis Station- Count 23, Northern Cross Station- Count 24…"
Zero pursed his lips, watching on with a pensive frown. Punishment was unavoidable, that was clear enough. Perhaps, there was some way to mitigate what would happen to him.
There wasn't a palpable tension in the air as there was during Axl's trial. X looked ambivalent, his gaze focused on nothing in particular. Zero knew that impassive look- he was lost in unrelated thoughts. It was a familiar sight during many of the more monotonous Maverick Hunter board meetings.
It was as though Craft's fate seemed entirely inconsequential to him.
"...And Count 39 charges the accused with initiating the destruction of public infrastructure with intentions to illegally smuggle human-likes from the country." Kelverian paused to rearrange his documents, only then catching a glimpse of Zero at the loge. The white and gold reploid, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, gave a start before continuing on. "Greetings, Master Zero. The Tribunal will now proceed to render its verdict for the accused.
"The defendant, Craft Fenrisúlfr- has been found guilty under thirty five counts by the Tribunal. There is insufficient evidence to suggest he took part in counts 8, 13, 15 and 28. During the course of this trial, the evidence provided has proven that Craft Fenrisúlfr can be deemed a danger to humanity and a maverick without a shadow of a doubt. He has pleaded guilty in a prior hearing." Kelverian turned to Hellbat, passing onto him the honour of speaking.
"Leaking government documents, terrorism, inciting riots, destruction of public property, treason, and worse of all, your actions have led to the reckless endangerment of humans. What do you have to say, maverick?" Hellbat spoke with an elegant lilt. "Would you seek to deny your guilt? Have you a defence for your actions?"
Craft simply shook his head no.
"I know what I've done. And I know it may make me seem like a maverick in your eyes."
It was the first words Zero had heard him speak. His voice was deep, his words rumbling in the depths of Zero's chest and lingering long after they had left his throat. It made Zero's breath hike.
"But I don't care! This world of your creation will drive us all to extinction. I will not follow you into the night, Master X. I've chosen to take a stand, to correct humanity's course! One day, all of you will understand, and pray it won't be too late when you do."
Hellbat's frown deepened, arms crossing over his chest in disapproval. Cubit Foxtar cleared his throat, motioning for permission to speak. "Your honour, if I may…"
Zero stopped listening when Foxtar began to drone on. Looking Craft in the eye, he couldn't bear to let another reploid meet the same fate as Axl, even if it was a complete stranger, when there was something he could do about it. He remained true to his ideals, dedicated to justice and freedom, his steadfast beliefs unfaltering even in the face of a sure death.
Just as Axl's did.
With stress weighing down on his heart, he knew he had to do something quick before his imminent death sentence could be set in stone. He turned to X for options, but the king simply watched on wordlessly.
When Foxtar's tangent finally came to a close, Kelverian cast his gaze back towards Craft. "Very well. And what do you plead, Commander Craft?"
"Guilty." Craft didn't hesitate for a second. "If fighting to secure our future makes me a maverick, then sobeit. The burden of Neo Arcadia's tyranny is too much for me to bear."
Kelverian turned to X for further comment, but X waved a hand ineffectually, maintaining his silence. Kelverian offered a nod in return.
As the judges discussed their options in soft murmurs, Zero's heart raced in his chest, the pump of oil thrumming loud in his head. When Craft's hardened gaze met his own, the panic gripping his soul only tightened its mighty grasp.
His life was in Zero's hands now. Zero had to wonder if Craft knew that much, or if he saw the red hero as just another Neo Arcadian fraud.
After a period of deliberation, Inarabitta relayed the tribunal's decision back to Kelverian, and the large reploid clasped his hands together over his bench, speaking with an aura of conclusivity. "The Neo Arcadian Military Tribunal will now pronounce the sentence on the accused convicted on this indictment."
Zero's hand unconsciously tightened around X's. He had to be strong. Even if it would fail, even if it meant enduring X's abuse as a consequence. He wouldn't let himself be imprisoned by his own fear anymore.
Craft's head dropped, the warbot coming to terms with his fate.
"In the name of the true sovereign Lord X, the accused 'Craft Fenrisúlfr', on the Counts of the Indictment on which you have been convicted, the Neo Arcadian Military Tribunal sentences you to a merciful death. If any tribunal members oppose this decision-"
"Your honour!"
Zero tore himself from X's grasp and stepped forward, all eyes turning in his direction, including Craft's. X, shaken from his train of thought, shot his partner a puzzled frown. "Zero-?"
"You may speak, Master Zero," Kelverian answered. Zero breathed out the tension in his core, steeling his resolve for what he would say next.
"As the sovereign Lord of Neo Arcadia at Master X's side, I demand this sentence be overturned, and for this reploid to be sentenced to a lifetime of absolute servitude under my command!"
Speechless, Craft staggered at the declaration, disbelief etched all over his rugged features.
X's mouth was agape, the king amazed by Zero's audacity. "Zero…" X almost let his nascent anger get the better of him before chasing it away with a sharp sigh. He faced Kelverian with renewed composure. "...Give my partner and I a moment please, your honour."
"Very well."
X wasted no time in pulling Zero aside, retreating indoors and away from the tribunal's prying eyes.
With only each other as company, X let his disposition soften. "Zero…"
"X, I know you think you know what's best for me but I need to make some of these decisions for myself-!"
"-I'm not saying that." X gently placed his hands on Zero's shoulder. "I just… want to know why you'd even want this?"
The honest answer wouldn't fly with X. The red warbot blurted out the first excuse that came to mind.
"You said it yourself, it's dangerous out here, isn't it? People have it out for us. You can't protect me forever. You and your Guardians have jobs to do." Zero inched closer, an air of intimacy falling onto the two uneasy lovers. "Wouldn't it ease your mind to know a guy like Craft has my back?"
X's lips drew tight, eyes flickering back and forth as he mulled over Zero's proposal. Craft was undoubtedly one of the most powerful reploids to come out of Neo Arcadia- the warbot proving as much when he annihilated wave after wave of Pantheons storming the brig. He was certain that he would make a fine guardian for Zero, but his past mutinies and violent sedition weighed heavy on X's mind. His hands slid down from Zero's shoulders and fell at his sides.
"I don't know… he's dangerous, too unpredictable. Even when he was one of ours. Destruction is in his nature."
"Isn't that what they used to say about me?"
That took X aback, his eyes widening and shoulders tightening. "...You- I…" X snapped his mouth shut and swallowed, staring down at their feet. "He wiped out a battalion's worth of my soldiers just hours ago… He's a maverick. I should retire him…"
Zero took X's hands again, giving them a gentle squeeze and resting their helmet gems against one another's. "Please, X. Having a permanent guardian at my side, it'd give you and I the freedom and security we both need."
X chewed his lip. Zero's heart was in his throat, the warbot hoping his partner could find it within himself to show Craft mercy.
When Zero's cool, smooth voice wavered like it rarely ever did, X was helpless to deny him. He wanted Zero to be happy. He wanted him to love him like he used to. He had to wonder if granting him Craft's survival as his steward would be enough to win Zero's love back. They were so close that X could see nothing else but his partner, his palace and all its stresses disappearing in his presence.
X was doubtful it would change things like he would've wanted it too, but if letting Craft live would make Zero forgive him even just a little, then X would take the chance. Anything was better than the splintering relationship they had now.
"Do you trust me, Zero?"
Zero cocked his head. "Huh?"
"Do you trust me?" X reiterated, a little more firmly. Zero creased his brow in a confused scowl.
"What? 'Course I do!"
X stood in silent contemplation. Zero hoped he hadn't caught him in his bold faced lie.
"Good. That's what I needed to hear."
The nervous pressure lifted from Zero's chest at that, and he let himself relax with a long exhale.
"Well, if it makes you happy… I'll tell Kelverian to overturn his sentence and resign him to a guardian duty," X conceded begrudgingly.
Instantly, the shine came back to Zero's foggy gray eyes, the red android's fire coming back to life. "X… I don't know what else I can do to thank you."
As relief washed over him, and Zero closed the distance between them, eyes shutting as he pressed a deep kiss against his lips. X froze up, stunned at first, until the tension melted away as he gave himself up to the moment of affection.
X didn't want it to end. He didn't know when Zero would let him kiss him next, if he ever would. He'd treat every one of them as if it were their last. When Zero started to pull away, he leaned back into it, only stopping when Zero gently pushed him away.
The frown King X seemed to always don had dissolved in lieu of a warm, cute smile. Zero would've cherished it more had he not known the things he did about X's rule.
"...Let's not keep them waiting," X suggested as he held the door open for Zero.
The two rejoined the tribunal, Kelverian perking up at their reappearance. Craft shuffled uncomfortably on the spot.
"Master X, Master Zero. Welcome back," Kelverian greeted with a bow of his head. "I suppose we shall continue the proceedings. It appears that Master Zero has requested the defendant's sentence be overturned. Master X, I must ask you to approve of this change before we may go any further."
"I will allow this amendment, Kelverian." X held his head high, regaining his sense of power and control. "Consider yourself lucky, Commander K9-E. Your life will be spared today, for my dear Zero has demanded you are condemned to a lifetime of loyal servitude under his watchful eye."
Though still bewildered, Craft swelled with gratitude, the maverick, certain of his own fate, mercifully delivered from death. The warbot whispered to himself, his tone of utter astonishment barely loud enough for Zero's keen audials to pick up. "Zero…"
Kelverian sighed, flicking through his datapads to find the relevant documents, picking at his brain to figure out exactly what his superior's demands entailed. "Well… if there is no objection from the Tribunal, I will proceed to overturn the previous sentence with the blessing of our sovereign Lord X."
Zero's chest felt like it was collapsing inwards during the brief murmurings between the judges, the white and gold reploids nervously casting glances back towards X and Zero. Zero wondered if they even had the courage to oppose X's word regardless of how they felt about the decision.
The moment of discussion came to a quick close, and Inarabitta signalled a 'no objection' to the Chief Judge. It gave Kelverian enough time to organise his thoughts. "Mister Fenrisúlfr. It has been decided by the Tribunal on this day that you shall be spared from capital punishment. Instead, you shall be re-sentenced to a lifetime of service without possibility of parole as Master Zero's personal attendant."
The agony of waiting he had been shouldering was finally lifted from Zero's body upon Kelvarian's assertion, whisked away in the breeze. He was hoping Craft felt the same. Perhaps, to the Resistance commander, the gesture of mercy appeared as a selfish deed instead, and that death would've been more generous than a lifetime under one man's absolute and total command. The look on Craft's face made it hard for Zero to guess- the sage green reploid just stood by, frozen in disbelief.
The victory, if it could be called that, would be bittersweet. He wished he could've saved Axl this way, but as much as it pained him to admit it, while X was indifferent to Craft, he hated Axl. So much that he would've killed him no matter what Zero did to stop him.
"As Master Zero's personal attendant, you will be expected to do as he says without question and protect him with your life. As such, you will be fitted with a restraining device that will automatically stun you if you attempt to abandon your duties or put him in danger. You will retain your physical power, but your status as Commander of the late Einherjar unit will no longer be recognised. Ipso facto, you will be addressed as though you were a common Neo Arcadian soldier. You shall not disobey orders by your superiors unless they put Master Zero in peril. Have I made myself clear?"
Craft swallowed, closing his eyes and releasing a deep exhale, uncertainty leaving him with that breath. "Yes, your honour."
"And do you accept this sentence?"
The two warbots eyes met again. Zero clasped his hands over his heavy heart, silently pleading to Craft with a crease of worry along his brow.
Craft bowed his head in similarly quiet acknowledgement. It was clear the rugged warbot saw something different in Zero. "Yes. I do."
"Then it is final… the Tribunal is hereby adjourned. You are all dismissed." Kelverian concluded, a little exasperated but nonetheless relieved to go the day without bearing witness to another grisly execution.
Tribunal members began filtering out after a nervous pause fell on the court. X turned, rubbing the bridge of his nose to knead out the stress pounding in his head.
"Happy now?" X grumbled, feeling the subtle shade of defeat hanging over him. Zero nodded slowly with a slight smile, keeping up his gentle and polite facade no matter what X sent his way.
"Very much so," he replied in a small voice. "Thank you, X."
He couldn't quite bring himself to tell him he loved him. He made it up with a chaste kiss he pressed upon the corner of X's lips, effortlessly returning solace to the blue emperor's soul.
"...Of course," X replied after the pleasant shock wore off. "I'll get everything sorted."
Deep down, Zero knew X was just in damage control mode, trying to make up for everything he had done before in an attempt to win back his love, but Zero would take what was given to him. After all, Craft could be his only way out, to a world where he could be free from X's possession.
When X departed, the terrible fear that had spread throughout Craft's body like a poison was expelled in an instant. Zero remained, the hero of legend standing tall above him in the king's loge.
His hair glistened in the sunlight, amber locks shimmering like the ocean's surface at sunrise. A halo of refracting rays of light glimmered around his helm. His armour was a burning red, accented with royal gold and ivory white, his skin soft and fair like porcelain. It was like staring at an apparition, a merciful angel who appeared before him just in time to save him from a sure death. It was still hard for Craft to believe he was looking at Zero. Even just the sight of him took his breath away.
The legendary reploid's dark violet stare was stagnant, yet so loud. When he leaped down from the loge to address him face to face, Craft felt compelled to step away in his presence, as if he wasn't worthy of sharing the same Earth as him.
Zero- the Zero that saved humanity from a certain extinction at the hands of Weil and the Dark Elf… was in pain.
Unlike the vision immortalised in stained glass, in bronze sculpture, in historic manuscripts, the Zero that stood before him was wasting away, too thin, too meek, the form of the protoform skeleton underneath his body suit visible under his synthetic flesh.
He was beautiful. He was hurting. Zero didn't belong here.
Harpuia came bounding over from his bench with an entourage of guards, ready to take him away. The air general addressed him with a venomous glare.
Right. He was as good as a common soldier now. Harpuia walked right by him to talk to Zero.
"Anything else you want me to know before we send him off to processing?" Harpuia asked in way of a greeting. The fact that Harpuia was still as shrewd as ever was almost comforting to Craft. Even just the tone of his voice made his skin crawl off.
"I do, actually," Zero answered. "I need his mind to remain intact."
Harpuia's brows rose. "Really? He would be far easier to handle vacuous."
That made Craft shrink back. Vacuous reploids had their consciouses all but extinguished, leaving barely sentient hollow shells. Craft had to wonder if Pantheons, the archetypal vacuous soldier, even felt the pain when he retired them.
"Huh, do you give lectures to all your superiors? Do not mess with his head in any capacity!"
Harpuia turned away with a harrumph, skulking away with a look of contempt. Trailing behind were his soldiers, who made quick work of surrounding Craft and escorting him back into the citadel, forcing him forward with the prod of an electrified baton.
He stole one last glimpse of his saviour, his sweet belvedere, before Zero's almost ethereal visage was gone behind closing doors once more.
Neige collapsed on the trans server pad, her head spinning and stomach flipping.
She shook her head, seeing stars spark across her vision. The journalist felt a running under her nose, wiping her top lip to find a thin film of blood collecting on her finger.
...Shit. I swear I carried the three.
When she eventually came to, blinking away the blurriness in her sight, she let out a sigh of relief when the familiar sight of the Resistance base's trans server room greeted her. The young reploid manning the device looked as though he had seen a ghost, eyes wide like an owl's.
"Miss Neige? You're alive?!" he exclaimed. Neige shrugged, wiping away the blood running down her philtrum.
"Long story. I need to talk to Ciel."
The trans server worker said nothing more as Neige rushed past, barrelling through crowds of shocked onlookers, just as surprised to see her alive as Neige was to be saved by Craft, all the way to the elevator, where she urgently punched in the second floor key.
Her legs were sore from running, heavy with fatigue like her ankles were still weighed down by shackles. The breath in her chest was faint, her heart still racing at a million miles an hour. There was still blood trickling down from her nose, and she could taste the bitter iron in her mouth. Still, she was alive, and with her brought essential intel, stolen straight from the depths of central Neo Arcadia.
The command center was eerily quiet without Axl or Craft. Only Ciel remained, the cyborg hunched over the round table, a mess of datapads scattering its surface and littering the ground around her. At her feet, little Alouette sat on the floor, fiddling with trinkets and toys Ciel brought back from her missions into Neo Arcadia.
The sliding doors opened, and Alouette jumped up at the sight of Neige, her big, baby blue eyes sparkling with delight.
"Miss Neige!"
The little girl ran over with leaping strides, and Neige kneeled down to catch Alouette in her arms as she hurdled into Neige, squeezing her tight in a big hug.
"Awwh, hello, my little songbird…" Neige cooed, rocking her back and forth. Ciel straightened her posture, looking back in shock at Neige's reappearance.
"Miss Neige, I missed you!" Alouette almost sounded like she was reprimanding her for daring to get captured. "I finished all the writing sheets you gave me, just like you told me to!"
"Well, I'm very proud of you, Alouette. You keep at it." Gently, Neige freed herself from the little reploid's iron grip, heaving herself back onto her feet and levelling herself with Ciel. "Commander Ciel…"
"Neige, you're okay…" Ciel whispered, before she pulled the redhead into a hug, patting her firmly on the back. When she pulled away, she couldn't stifle a tired chuckle. "Tough warp home, huh?"
"How can you tell?"
"Gluon instability. You're leaking a bit."
Neige grumbled, wiping away the residual trails of blood from her nose and mouth. "I swear, I primed the AdS driver correctly."
"And what about the strong force equalizer?" Ciel pointed out. Neige pouted and slumped her shoulders, conceding to her mistake. The cyborg gave her shoulder a reassuring rub. "Hey. I'm just happy you're still with us."
"Yeah. I'm happy to be back too…" Neige backed up some, staring off into space with a forlorn frown. "But… Craft…"
Ciel's spirits fell quickly. "Cerveau told me he ran off for you…"
Neige nodded meekly. "He broke me out. He… he stayed behind."
She took Ciel's hand, gently placing the trans server device in her palm. The cyborg dipped her head, eyes shutting.
"Oh, Neige…" Ciel muttered, shaking her head. "I'm sorry… I know how much he meant to you."
Neige let out a heavy sigh. "He said he'd come back, but…" she trailed off. "I know its stupid to hold out hope that he's still out there, but…"
Ciel jostled her reassuringly. "He's one of the strongest reploids I know. I'll be praying for his safe return."
She knew those words didn't mean much. Ciel kept her hand on Neige's shoulder, giving it a squeeze before letting go.
"...You know, I do have something for you."
Out of thin air, Neige procured a datastick, offering it to Ciel. Amazed, Ciel stared at it, taking a moment before taking it from her.
"Snatched this up from the Deep Archives before I got captured," Neige explained as Ciel plugged it into the control console. "Neo Arcadia doesn't check humans for 4D storage. Maybe they think we're too primitive to use it."
The drive contained a bevy of folders, full of notes and schematics. Ciel scrolled through them, giving them a quick scan. "Neige, you're brilliant!"
Neige made a flattered laugh, scratching her cheek. "Gracias."
One of the files caught Ciel's eye. Upon opening it, the two were greeted by the sight of a 3D model depicting a massive spacecraft.
Ciel leaned in, not quite believing what her eyes were seeing.
"...How did you get this?" Ciel murmured, dumbfounded.
Neige's head lolled to the side. "Was a favour from the Rebellion."
Engrossed in what Neige had presented her with, Ciel dove deeper into the files, finding construction logs and test reports for the massive satellite weapon. She swallowed hard.
"This is old tech… before the Elf Wars. This is Weil's handiwork."
Neige frowned. "Ragnarok…? Craft warned us about this… I didn't think it'd be real."
"I'm afraid he might've been right…" Ciel rested her chin on her knuckles, musing. "But these activity reports have been signed off under the Neo Arcadian administration. They're too recent to be written off as old data logs. I'd guess that Neo Arcadia commandeered it for their own use. But then…" Ciel's brow furrowed with worry. "X has the power to bring the hammer down on us at any moment."
"He doesn't know where the settlements are."
"For now." Ciel sat down at the control console and began clattering away at her keyboard. "There's a lot more data here hidden behind encryption."
Neige and Aluoette watched Ciel scour through files, diligently taking down notes of all the unencrypted data she could fish out.
"What are we going to do?" Neige pondered aloud. Ciel stopped mid key-stroke.
"I don't… I don't know," Ciel admitted. "A weapon of this scale... seems out of my jurisdiction. I'm not sure I can disable it remotely, either. The only way to stop it might be by destroying it."
"...But he hasn't used it yet," Neige pointed out.
"Well, I hope he never finds a reason to."
Still, the threat of such mass destruction, unleashed from a weapon that could target anywhere on the Earth from orbit, would hang over Ciel's conscious like a storm cloud.
"...I'll look further into it. Thank you, Neige, for everything." Ciel swivelled around in her chair to face her. "Get some rest. You look like you need it."
Neige huffed, semi-amused. "You have no idea. See you later, Ciel..."
Ciel waved her off as she hobbled out of the room, exhausted and sore, but more pressingly, broken by Craft's sacrifice.
Turning back around to the control console, Ciel stared lifelessly at the Ragnarok design schematics, uncertainty swimming in her head.
All her efforts to build a fair and kind world beyond the walls of Neo Arcadia could be dashed in one fell swoop if X felt compelled to deploy Ragnarok. No matter what she did, nowhere was safe from X's reign of terror until Ragnarok was destroyed, but her answer to how that would be possible eluded her. The Resistance had firepower, but she knew that a weapon of this magnitude could not be handled by their forces alone, even with the aid of the Rebellion.
Ciel sighed, putting her head in her hands. Without Axl and Craft, she felt lost.
A tiny hand tugged at the hem of her dress, ripping her from her spiralling despair. Alouette was at her feet, staring up at her with twinkling, wide eyes.
"I hope Mister Craft will be okay…" Alouette lamented, clutching her kitty soft toy close to her chest.
When Allouette hugged her hand, Ciel managed a small smile. Alouette's innocence never failed to lift her spirits. It reminded her of what she was fighting for- a better future for posterity's sake. "Me too."
"M-maybe… Zero will help him. He's good, isn't he? He's not like Master X."
Ciel patted her on the head. "You're full of questions, aren't you…? You know I can't answer all of them."
In her heart, Ciel was hoping Alouette was right. Zero was the last reploid Ciel was certain possessed power equal to that of X's. If history held true, Zero alone could do things in seconds that took hundreds of Resistance soldiers years to accomplish. If there was any reploid left in Neo Arcadia who could stand a chance at taking down X and Ragnarok, it was Zero.
Still, Zero remained passive, even in the face of Axl's death. The legendary reploid was barely even seen wandering outside the citadel. Maybe he was comfortable where he was, remaining happily silent and compliant in X's bloody, iron rule over mankind and their reploid brethren.
Ciel was torn. Would she wait for Zero to make his choice, or resign to the fact that she was on her own now, and her heroes were dead and gone?
"Ciel?"
Alouette was still at her feet, even despite the fact that her mind was wandering. Ciel cocked her head. "Yes?"
"You won't go away too, will you?"
That was a question Ciel definitely didn't have the answer to. All she could do was kneel down and wrap her arms around Alouette, hugging her tight as if it were the last time she would be able to do so.
What else could she do, other than hope Zero would find it in himself to ally with the side of freedom, to turn away from the one he loved? With Ragnarok on her mind, it seemed that all her other options had been exhausted.