Shit...It's alive.

"Activating audio feedback. Optics reactivated. Power Low. 17%. Warning. Multiple hazards detected."

Will looked up the Titan hanging by its legs and cautiously backed up. The day just kept getting worse and worse. An active Vanguard Titan on an IMC ship meant that both sides of the war were looking for it. The Militia would want to keep it out of IMC reach, obviously, and the IMC wouldn't let this catch loose easily. His home could prove to be a battleground sometime soon. And to put the icing on the cake, a Titan without their pilot tends to cause some serious mood swings, no thanks to its third protocol of protection. Meaning, this Titan was going to want answers, and it wasn't going to ask them politely. He could probably die before the battle would even start.

He turned towards the exit hole. He was going to have to make a run for it and hope for the best.

"Pilot?"

Will froze.

"...are you...my pilot?"

¿Perdón?

He twisted back around to the coal black and hot magenta colored Vanguard-Class.

"Excuse me?"

"Inquiry. Are you my pilot?"

He didn't quite know how to take the question, less so even answer it. He never heard of a machine asking for their pilot like a small child looking for their mother. Especially when that Titan sounded like a full-grown man...and was...also hanging by their feet.

"I...uh..."

"There's something in me, telling me I need someone called, 'a pilot.'" The Titan said, using its arms to gesture to itself, which in turn caused it to swing by its feet slightly.

Will was beyond bewildered at this point. Whoever coded this Titan A.I. was either really bad at their job, or was very good. Good enough to make one that could ask questions like that. He shuddered. It was that or it was just the IMC had been bashing in its electronics one too many times.

Either way, that didn't stop him from trying to appear friendly. A dead body was nearby, and he didn't know what the dead pilot was doing to the Titan with the terminal. The machine could feel like squashing something into a thin paste for all he knew.

"Uh, yeah. That's called your programming," he attempted to joke, "Titan...It's your first protocol. Link to pilot."

The Titan's optic shimmered. Then flicked down towards him.

"I only have one protocol, and it is not finding a pilot. Although I very much would like one," it replied, almost sounding hopeful.

"Wait. Only one protocol?"

"Yes."

"Well...what is it then?"

"To warn."

"Warn who?"

The Titan looked down to itself, which was upwards towards the ceiling. It paused, obviously searching through its code.

"To warn."

"To. Warn. Who?" Will repeated, groaning to himself.

"I'm not sure."

"Jesus Christos," Will hissed, throwing a hand to his hair. He had probably found the only functional Vanguard Titan without brains—not that it really had any to begin with—and it was hanging by its feet in an IMC ship that just so happened to have crashed on his little piece of the universe. Today was getting more interesting by the hour. And he wasn't liking it one bit.

"Nevermind. What's a Vanguard doing with the IMC, anyway? How did you get here?"

"My designation is Mike-India-Charlie-Zero-Niner-Zero-Niner. Though I can be referred to as Mick. To answer your previous question. I am not a Vanguard. Vanguards belong to the Militia and were the blueprints for which my chassis was based on. I am a new Titan class, Monarch-Class to be precise."

Will blinked. The sudden rush of information was just a little much.

"So," he began cautiously. "You're not Vanguard-Class?"

"Correct."

"And the IMC managed to find Vanguard blueprints and modified it to make you."

"Mostly correct. The IMC only managed to salvage some Vanguard designs. Not everything was replicated. The differences were brought about by purely bridging the gaps from what they found."

Will scratched his chin to mask his fear, his forehead was already beginning to sweat. This was actually an IMC Titan, in an IMC ship, and he had just killed the only other pilot who was doing god-knows-what with it before he showed up. Sure, maybe a battle won't happen on his property yet, but everything about this screamed at him to run and avoid this hulking mass of metal before it realized what had happened and decided to step on him. He took a large gulp of air.

"Do you...Do you serve for the IMC?"

The Titan blinked, causing a momentary flicker of darkness.

"Whilst I was created by the IMC, I do not seem to have any directory to aid them. Nothing in my code tells me who I should and should not aid. It all seems to have been wiped. This is...conflicting. Is this of some concern to you?"

Will let out half of his breath. "Er, no. Not entirely," he muttered, stepping forward slowly to get a closer look at the gleam in this Titan's optic. "Just as long as you don't try to kill me," he finished, laughing nervously.

"Are you an enemy of the IMC?"

"Not exactly," he started, picking his words carefully. "I'm not an enemy, but I'm not a friend, either. I just don't pick sides."

"Are you conflicted? Like me?"

Will immediately frowned, his eyebrows furrowed. It wasn't something he really thought of before.

Am I conflicted?

That was enough of a feely thought for him. And he sure wasn't going to pursue it because of some machine. Of course he wasn't conflicted. He had nothing to be conflicted about. He walked away from the war and everything else himself, and he had no reason to join back, either. Otherwise, he wouldn't be out on the beach all by his lonesome. He stared back up at the Titan.

"No, I am not. I like being out here by myself. Now, I don't know what you Titans simulate to, 'like,' but I think it would be in both of our best interests if you..." He stopped himself.

Here was a fully functioning Titan, brand new, and had no allegiances. That and it was probably oblivious like a bag of rocks. It could be useful. Like constructing his house. If he could just get underneath the hood, and rip out its blasted A.I...He could use the thing to make work easier tenfold. Maybe once he was done, he could deconstruct the A.I. and use it for other simple tasks like farming. He could have his own personal worker bot!

But the damned IMC is going to be looking for it. He reminded himself. It'll bring them here. It can't stay.

Will sighed deeply in disappointment. There goes that possibility.

"If I..?"

An explosion sounded somewhere off in the ship, distracting both of them. Immediately Will was reminded of his dangerous surroundings and to be honest, he was surprised that something didn't happen until now.

"Warning. The hazard threat level has risen. It is recommended that we leave the crash site immediately."

"De acuerdo. Can you get yourself down? I can't really take you seriously with you hanging like that."

The hiss of machinery sounded as the Monarch bent itself up to its feet. Sounds of clunking metal grinding together ensued as it tried to free itself, causing Will to cringe.

"It appears the locks on my chassis are too small for me to interact. I would need your help to release them."

Will rolled his eyes, silently complaining to himself as he set down the terminal and stepped up even closer to the head of the Titan. "Alright, MIC-0909, gimme a boost, will ya?"

"Here," the Titan lowered an arm down to the ground and lifted the lone wanderer up to the ankle mechanisms on its chassis. "You may also refer to me as Mick. I understand it takes considerably less amount of effort than it does to pronounce each character of my full designation."

"Sure thing, MIC," Will ignored, inspecting the shackles on the Titan. Surprisingly, the locks were badly damaged and it would've taken no time at all to deactivate them. All there was left was a metal latch that was too small for the Monarch's big hands to reach. Will jiggled it slightly.

A slight gleam of mischief summoned in his chest. He could picture it in his head already. All he needed to do was just hold onto the lock, detach the Titan, and watch it to land on its head.

Now that would be funny.

Carefully, he pulled himself up onto the shackles and squeezed his arm down to the latch, already chuckling to himself as he ripped it out as fast as he could.

Unexpectedly, there was no loud crash of metal on the bulkhead. The Monarch's feet stayed in its regular position even though it was detached. Slowly, it dipped down and over and a blue light took its place instead. The Titan actually supported itself on its arms and made a casual turn onto their feet.

"Thank you. We should leave immediately," The Titan said, raising its arm to help Will down from the shackles, as well as to provide the terminal that was on the ground.

Will glared with one eye as he picked it up and stepped onto the Titan's hand, disappointed that his prank was foiled. He rolled his eyes with a sigh and held on the back of the Titan as it made its way for the exit hole in the fuselage.

"I have not received your name," MIC stated, bending down slightly further underneath the exit as to not knock off its passenger. Once again Will was bathed in the gray light of a thick, cloudy day. A little brighter now that it was in the afternoon.

He didn't answer for a moment, debating with himself whether or not he should give any name to this Titan belonging to the IMC. No. At least, not a real name.

"Beachside. Call me Beachside."

"Beachside. Peculiar name," responded the Titan, and said nothing more, which was peculiar in itself. Will never heard a Titan make that kind of judgment before. He pondered on it as the walking tank dragged itself across the soft dirt and tropical plants that were scoured by the crash. Quietly reminded, Will lifted his finger over to the sandy hill where he had parked his truck. MIC's optic looked to him as if in question, making him feel even more uneasy.

"I, uh...I drove over here. I need to bring my truck back home."

"Noted," responded the Titan, and shifted course up further to the hill until the vehicle came into view. Will clambered down the Monarch's arm slowly but was taken by surprise as it reached down and carefully picked up the truck, treating it tenderly as to not damage it or scratch it. He shifted to continue walking down the road. "Where is your home?"

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Will exclaimed, propping himself in between the Titan's elbow. He waved his hand outwards to flag down its attention. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Heading to your home."

"Okay, but put down the car, alright?! I can drive it. You don't need to lug it all the way back!"

"I see," MIC responded, putting the metal gray vehicle back down on the ground softly. "I did not mean to upset you."

"Just..." Will exasperatedly hopped down off of the chassis, "Just followed me, okay?"

"Roger that, Beachside."

This is getting old really quick.

Before he could ignite the engine, another loud boom had sounded. Both Titan and man tried to get a look at the crashed frigate over the hill, only to be met with a flash of blinding orange and a rising fireball into the sky.

"¡MIERDA!"

The orange gleamed off of the Titan's shiny surface, who said nothing. Both watched as the fireball rose higher into the sky and dissipated into ash and black smoke. The thought of what might have happened if they continued to carry on their discussion in the bay...

Thank God that we're not stupid enough for that.

"The ship is now nonexistent," MIC stated simply.

"Clearly," Will muttered in response. "Let's go, we shouldn't stay here for too long."

"Lead the way."

He rolled his eyes as he pressed down on the pedal back to the beach.

He took these moments to reflect the information he had discovered. A brand new Titan, made by the IMC with designs stolen from the Militia, had crash-landed on a frigate on his land, out of all of the places on the planet and in the galaxy of stars, with an unknown pilot. He had been working day in and day out on his home away from everyone and somehow he managed to be at risk of an army showing up to his doorstep looking for answers. He was feeling cautiously enraged.

Just my fucking luck.

He needed to get that Titan out of here.

Once they arrived back at his worksite, he hopped out and headed straight for the pathway back to his hut. There was power there and he could make sure the terminal that was tucked underneath his arm wouldn't lose battery charge as he looked for more answers.

"Beachside," MIC started, following close behind.

"Oh my god, what the hell do you want?!" Will practically shouted, completely irritated and stopping the walking tank in its tracks. Standing next to the worksite, it was mostly taller than the pillars of wood that would make up the house.

"Back at the ship, you said there was something that would be in both of our best interests. What was it?"

The human sighed, looking at the computer in his hands, and back over to the Monarch. "I'll answer that later. I got some digging to do right now. Meanwhile, why don't you make yourself useful and go unload that lumber out of my trailer. Maybe put that hunk of metal you call a chassis to good use and flatten some of the land around the clearing."

"And afterward?"

Will's eyes narrowed. "Go into sleep mode, or do whatever a Titan does when they have nothing to do. Just..."

I can't believe I'm saying this.

"...Stick around here for a bit. Don't go running off...and also, please make goddamn sure you tell me if there's anybody or anything approaching, got it?"

"Yes, Beachside."

"Good, now leave me alone for the next couple hours."

"That directly contradicts your previous orders, Beachside."

Will rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, and released it, following with a flat hand gesture. "Then let me rephrase," he said impatiently. "Leave me alone for the next couple hours until something important, like my previous orders, has cropped up."

"Understood."

"Gracias."

MIC stood there for a moment, almost looking a little lost, unsure. As Will turned back to his hut to refocus at the task at hand, it raised its arm and waved awkwardly.

"Do you happen to have a place where I can recharge? I am at very low power."

He didn't even bother to grunt in annoyance as he pointed out to the plant. Charging cables led from every instrument into a few large turbines and generators, as well as power containers which could be considered as oversized batteries. The Titan had everything it needed to charge itself.

"De nada."

LATER THAT NIGHT

If William Alexis's patience was wearing thin before, it was completely gone now. The computer worked fine, but the damned pilot he killed must've been the one to put a code lock on its contents. He tried everything he could. Even his old hacking software he kept on a drive no longer worked with the more recent technology. He wished he would've thought about it before, but he had been living on his own for a while that he pretty much nearly forgotten that code locks were even a thing.

And he couldn't go back to the pilot's body now to see if he could find any clues about it hidden in their armor. The ship was nonexistent, incinerating everything in it into an ugly black. Still, he wasn't about to give up. Perhaps he could find a talented codebreaker online, get it working that way. But that would have to be later. Right now he had to figure out what to do with the walking junkyard wandering around outside.

Right after he finished digging around in the little hidey-hole in his floorboards.

He didn't know why he was doing it. Just something attracted him to his past. The nightmares he had in the morning, seeing something involving the war between the Militia and the IMC again...and a Titan.

He walked away from it all, for good reason. He buried it all, figuratively and literally.

So why was he digging it up again?

That was the question he asked himself as his hands met something soft and leathery. A handle. He tugged it out. It was an old suitcase, and something else came with it. A helmet. His helmet.

A pilot's helmet.

It was incredibly dusty, lifeless. Its flat X shaped visor hadn't glowed blue in months. Will sighed. He gleaned his finger upon its hexagonal surface, feeling the large cracks that raced from one corner to the next. He never bothered to fix it. He then turned his attention to the dust on top. His finger gleaned alongside it also, swiping the particle mess from its shining surface. Its colors a splashing tropical green, ocean aqua, and sunset orange.

He set the helmet aside and turned to the suitcase. He zipped it open, revealing his old uniform. There were still some small holes in it. A couple from bullets, others from shrapnel. He never bothered to fix those, either.

The last thing he found was his old jump-kit. Still worked, surprisingly, when he turned it on. Perhaps he could use it when constructing the house.

What the hell am I doing?

He didn't know. He picked up the helmet and jump-kit, leaving the uniform behind. He recalled that there was some glue back in his truck, maybe he could fix the visor a little bit so the crack didn't seem so glaringly obvious. As for the jump-kit, he was getting a little rusty. Maybe some construction will help him freshen up a bit. Still, that didn't answer the question as to why he was digging his old stuff up again.

Perhaps he'll find out later. He threw the jump-kit over his shoulder and attached the helmet to his hip and headed outside. It was dark, but thankfully the clouds had cleared up so he could see the stars and the two moons, both which bathed the peninsula in a soft dual-color glow. One a low purple and another plain bright white. Another glow appeared too, an orange one, but it did not come from the sky. Instead, it came from the worksite.

Oh shit.

He booked it down the pathway brushing aside tallgrass as he entered the clearing to see MIC crouched down, its optic trained onto a large bonfire. Thankfully, it didn't come from the frame of his house.

"Jesus fucking Christos, MIC!" He blared, to which the Monarch turned its attention to him.

"Yes, Beachside?"

He was about to speak, but another worry hit Will. He looked over to his trailer to find all the lumber he had pulled was no longer there. In an instant, his leg was popped out and he turned to the lumbering junkpile.

"Do you mind telling me where the fuck all my wood is?"

"Unloaded, as you asked. I had put it behind your house for safekeeping."

Will shifted his head back towards the rear of the house, piles of wood was just barely seen around the corner, all lined up safely. He gave a large sigh of relief.

"I have also flattened some parts of the clearing as you asked. Excess soil had been piled up around the perimeter. If you wish, I can relocate it."

Will again took another look around in moonlight bathed clearing, clearly seeing the dirt rising up around the edges underneath the palm trees. Patches of grass could be seen missing from where the Titan had moved it, but that was to be expected. He would have to get plant seeds the next time he went into town to build it back up. He couldn't help but be slightly impressed by MIC's work.

"It's fine," he responded, grabbing a log of unused firewood to sit on in front of the flames. He peered into the fire, feeling it caress his skin in a comforting heat. "So...MIC," he said the designation in a half-hearted scoff. "How did you make this bonfire?"

"I figured you would like it, as most humans are attracted to warmth. I got the wood from some trees in the surrounding area."

"That's all well and good," Will sighed, "But I get my firewood from a dense forest just about three or four klicks further down the beach. I want this place to still look at least a little natural."

"Noted."

The two sat in silence for a moment. It had been a strange day for strange visitors. It really took a toll on him, making him tired. He really didn't know what to think anymore. Only that he needed to get this Titan off his beach and back to where it belonged. Perhaps in a few minutes. He didn't feel like talking at the moment.

He pulled his helmet off of his hip and his jump-kit from his shoulder, laying them both on the ground in front of him. He inspected them closely, staring deep into the eyes of the visor. To Will's dismay, the Titan immediately took notice.

"That is pilot gear. Mostly associated with pilots that utilize a grappling hook," MIC addressed, stating the obvious information. Its optic shifted back to Will, it shimmered, almost as if it was excited.

"So you are my pilot?" It exclaimed, nearing a squeal of delight.

The title, the question, the helmet. In a flash, the memories came back to him. Memories that enraged and burned him up inside.

To hell with taking a moment of silence! He was telling off this worthless scrap heap of a robot now!

"¡Estás bien pendejo! Absolutely the fuck not! I am never going to be your goddamn pilot! In fact, you need to leave! That's what was in our best interest! That's what would be good for both of us! For you to leave! Now crawl back to the IMC, tell them that your ship is obliterated and that you landed on an unknown planet, that you saved yourself and managed to get back! Just don't tell them that you landed here! And especially that I'm here! You understand me?!"

MIC didn't say anything. It was as if it was speechless. The sudden rage that came from nowhere and washed the ground in spittle. The Titan's hopes seemed to sink to the bottom of the ocean, the same as its optics towards the ground.

"I didn't mean to upset you," it murmured.

"Just be sure you're gone by noon tomorrow," Will seethed, wiping the excess spit that clung to his lips. He got up from the bonfire and headed back to his hut. He didn't even bother to reclaim his gear. "Strangers shouldn't overstay their welcome."

He disappeared behind the pathway in the trees leaving MIC to itself. The silence was ominous, overbearing. And something sinister flew overhead at that time.

Glowing orange lights in the sky floated down to the surface a little ways away...

Strangers were visiting.