Author's Note: As of June 27th, 2016, the entire fanfic has been rewritten. That means this chapter, all that came before it, and all that follow it now contain different content that they did previously. You are strongly encouraged to go back and reread the entire fanfic from the beginning, as the revised continuity may confuse you if you jump in part of the way through.
Fone Bone half walked and half jogged down the hallway to Archibald's workshop. He couldn't believe it. Phoney decided to support his decision. Ever since he became president, Phoney's true feelings about people began to show through more and more. Deep down, Phoney really wanted what was best for them. He guessed that Phoney finally realized that Fone could decide that for himself from now on, but before he could dwell on the matter any further, he bumped into Smiley and Bartleby.
"Hey cuz!" Smiley shouted jovially as he and Bartleby rounded a corner Fone had just passed. The pair ran to catch up with him. "Where're you goin' all in a hurry with your stuff packed? Did you decide to go camping with us?"
"No, Smiley…" Fone paused. He didn't know what Smiley's reaction to the news would be. Smiley's past had been, to say the least, traumatic. He lost his parents in the same accident that had taken Fone's and Phoney's. But while Fone was too young to remember and Phoney was old enough to maintain some semblance of self-control, Smiley closed up for a very long time, was bullied during the few years afterword that he continued to go to school, and had only begun to seriously recover a year or so prior to their journey to the Valley. Despite this, Fone felt that he at least owed Smiley a straight up response. "I decided that I'm going back to the Valley." Fone cast his eyes down in preparation for Smiley's response.
"Well that's great news. Promise me and Bartleby you'll tell us all about your adventures if you ever get the chance to come back." Fone was a little shocked. He didn't think Smiley would take the news so well. Back in the valley Smiley put on a good front of unconditional support when Fone was deciding to return to Boneville or stay in the Valley. But if his efforts to sway Fone in the last few days of their journey with Thorn were any indication, then Smiley really wanted Fone to come back with him and Phoney. So now that Smiley seemed content to let Fone go, he was quite surprised.
"Just like that, you're just ok with me leaving? No regrets, no long goodbyes? No nothing?"
"Nope. I told you, I support whatever decision you make. That still holds true now. And to be honest, watching you wallow around here the past couple of years has been really depressing."
"Thanks Smiley. What about you Bart?" The purple rat creature had been silent the entire conversation, but tentatively decided to speak his mind.
"I think I'll miss you Fone, but if the Valley is where you need to be, then I won't stop you. Promise you'll come back and visit some time?"
"I promise Bartleby, I promise." Fone patted the poor looking creature on the head absentmindedly, but eventually he looked Bartleby in the eyes and smiled. The rat smiled back, and suddenly Fone Bone felt a brand new rush of resolve. "I'll return eventually, and with brand new tales of wild and grand exploits. Just you wait. Thanks for the pep talk Smiley."
"Any time cuz. Now if you'll excuse me, ol' Bartleby and I have got some packing to so for the camping trip this weekend. See ya around Fone. And say hi to Thorn and Gram 'ma Ben for me!" Smiley's last sentence faded as they walked back around the corner they had come from, and Fone walked down the corridor with renewed zeal. He started humming himself a tune as he approached the entrance to Archibald's workshop.
The workshop run by Archibald Bone was by far the strangest place in all of Argus city. Archibald was thirty-five, the same age as Phoney, and about as tall as Phoney or Fone. His defining characteristic was his hair, a rare trait among bones, which he dyed silver and cut short a number of years ago. He was a recent acquaintance Phoney had met through his old mentor Silas, and who Phoney had appointed head of cyber security for the mansion. The position allowed Archibald to live in and conduct his experiment in the presidential mansion in a large office space he referred to as his workshop. Inside this magical funhouse he designed and built cars, worked out new theories in physics, and conducted a myriad of chemical and biological experiments in the most eccentric and least organized frenzy of creativity Fone had ever seen, alongside maintaining the integrity of the Presidential Mansion's networks. Archibald was currently examining what looked like a very, very delicate mechanical part on his workbench using a headset that vaguely resembled night vision goggles.
"Archibald… Archibald!" Fone shouted. Archibald didn't respond. "Damn it man whatever you're doing can't be that important!" Fone shouted again. In his experience, excessive yelling was the only way to get Archibald's attention.
"Ah, Fone. I didn't see you come in." Archibald responded disinterestedly. "Please sit down, I'll be with you in a moment." Archibald didn't look up.
"There still aren't any chairs in here, Archie."
"Quite right… quite right." Archibald finally looked up and walked over to where Fone was standing. "In that case, I'll just see what you want now."
"I'm going out into the desert, and I need a car. Something fast and reliable."
"Why? What do you expect to find out there in the wastes?" Archibald crossed his arms, slightly intrigued.
"Call it… inspiration. I might be gone awhile."
"Ahh yes. Returning to the locations you experienced such a rush of new ideas before in order to try and break you out of the writer's block you must be experiencing after finishing a series of such depth. I see."
"Whatever gets you to get me my car faster." Fone shrugged. Archibald turned around and stared at the wall and then the ceiling for a few moments before abruptly calling out.
"Of course. That one will do." He wandered over to one of the myriad of tables in the workshop and picked up a key. He turned it over in his hand several times before returning to Fone and pressing the key into his hand. "This will unlock the car for you. Head straight down into the parking lot and find spot number 47B. The car is partially invisible however, so don't be worried if you don't see it at first."
"Partially invisible?" Fone asked quizzically.
"Yes, one of its many features ideal for desert travel. It can camouflage itself in almost any environment. It also can store water for up to six weeks in tanks on the underbelly, can become fully air tight in case of a sandstorm, and has fully independent axels for precarious climbing just to name a few features. This is one of my best beauties Fone. Take good care of her."
"And if I don't come back with it? Or at all?"
"Then I'll just make a new one of course. I won't be particularly angry, that one's just a prototype anyway, but I'd rather not spend all of that time away from my calculations. Speaking of which, shove off. I have work to do. I discovered a whole new quantum field that interfaces with the quartzite structures in the… the…" He trailed off. Before Fone could ask what was bothering him, Archibald sprung to life again. "Excuse me I seem to have lost my train of thought. Have fun in the desert."
"I'll try Archie. Have fun with the, uh, calculations." Fone walked out of the other entrance to Archibald's workshop and through another hallway into the adjacent parking lot. After a bid of searching around, he found spot 47B, only to find it empty. Fone put his hand out into the air where the car should be, and it bumped against something metallic that he couldn't see. Fone was mildly surprised that the car was indeed invisible, since Archibald's inventions only seemed to work half the time. He pressed the unlock button on the keys and the nonexistent car in front of him beeped in acknowledgement. Then it made itself visible, and the driver's side door opened up. He got into the car, threw his backpack onto the back seat, turned it on, and sped out of the parking lot and onto the streets of Argus City. He took a moment to position himself in his mind and then started driving towards the direction of Boneville and the Great Wastes.
Archibald meanwhile was looking at his device, and then his calculations, and then at the book sitting half open on his desk. "The dreaming huh…" he muttered to himself. "Interesting. I guess this means it's time."
"It's a bad idea." Secretary Deyavara insisted.
"It's the only idea worth considering." General Victor Bone retorted. "There's no way a member of the best black ops unit in this country's history could be outdone by a few ragtag rebels in the mountains." The two of them had been arguing for the past few minutes. Phoney was growing impatient.
"Assassination will backfire. Even if we're successful, his men will only use his death as a symbol to rally behind."
"It isn't assassination, it's a duel."
"So we only send in one of them, then? That makes even less sense."
"I worked at the Federal Intelligence Commission for years in that unit, and never once did any of them loose a fight. One will suffice."
"I know that. I ran that unit, remember?"
"Then what's got you so hesitant?"
"Jigafta and X'lish are in exile, Nibet's turned traitor, and we can't afford to send in you or Admiral Haenkos. Which just leaves…"
"Faldr Milzaek." General Victor completed the Secretary's thought. "He's good. Good enough to get through this, at any rate. He and Glaian fight on equal terms, and when Milzaek wins, Glaian's forces have to respect the agreement."
"He's hesitant. He may be a good fighter, but he's the only one who isn't a killer."
"I've seen him kill before. This is Glaian Nagratek we're talking about. That name alone should be enough to send him into a frenzy."
"He retired twenty-five years ago after that disaster in Boneville. Who's to say he even want to get back into the fight?"
"I know him. He wouldn't turn down an offer to put down another one of these terrorist psychopaths."
"Even if that's true, we have no guarantees that Milzaek will win. He's almost fifty. He passed his prime years ago, and we don't know what kind of combat experience Glaian has. Or if Nibet will interfere."
"It's the option with the greatest change of success. Anything else will turn the tide irrevocably in Glaian's favor. In any case, it isn't up to us. The President has the final say. Speaking of which, have you reached a decision yet, Mr. President?" The General asked as he turned to address Phoney at the head of the table. Phoney sighed and stood up.
"If General Victor thinks it's out best option, it's our best option. Contact Faldr, and begin preparing the war room for the operation. I want to oversee this directly. You're all dismissed."
"Yes Mr. President." The various advisors slowly got up and walked out of the room, and President Phoncible left to go make a public appearance. Soon Secretary Daniel was alone in the hallway. It was then that he dared to attempt contact. He got out his phone and called the restricted number. A woman's voice answered.
"Yes Mr. Secretary?"
"I tried to dissuade him, but he's sending in Milzaek anyway. He's going ahead with the plan and we aren't prepared. If Glaian gets killed now, we don't have any information on his supplier. Use whatever means necessary to stop Milzaek from dueling with him, but if the situation crumbles, grab everything you can and report back to base. I won't see everything we've built here destroyed in a single day."
"As you wish, Daniel Deyavara. Nibet Trenya out." He began to breathe easier. Nibet had always scared the living hell out of him, even when she had to follow his orders. He silently prayed that her loose cannon nature didn't screw up the yearlong sting operation he had set up. But, if she did manage to get the information they were looking for, he would be one step closer to unraveling the mystery of the object burning a hole in his pocket.
He took it out when he once again checked to make sure no one was around. It was a small blue crystal, no bigger than his thumb. It had been given to him by a man named Jigafta Utenki, a former member of the black ops unit Daniel Deyavara used to run. When Jigafta gave it to him, he also told him to figure out where it came from. And after twenty-five years of studying it in a lab and tracking it through time, Deyavara finally pegged its source. The illusive individual, or group of individuals, that had funded terrorist efforts decades ago, and were most probably currently funding Glaian's army. The longer he stared at the crystal, the longer he was drawn into it, and the more he needed to know all of its secrets.
"…Are you alright, Secretary Deyavara?" Daniel heard a voice behind him, snapping him out of the pseudo-trance he had slipped into. He whirled around to see who it was, and noticed that he was in a completely different hallway. The person who had pulled him back into reality was Secretary of Defense Julius Freeman. He promptly slipped the crystal back into his pocket. "You looked… lost, for lack of a better word." Secretary Freeman looked concerned.
"I'm sorry. I was just thinking to myself." Daniel quickly came up with a convenient excuse. He hadn't even noticed he was moving. He couldn't even recall what had happened after he began staring at the crystal in the slightest. Wishing to put the business behind him and get out of the situation, he changed subjects. "I didn't realize you were going to be here today. I thought you had family matters to attend to."
"I did, but as soon as I got word that the President was calling in Faldr Milzaek I knew I couldn't miss another second of this operation." Daniel was a bit alarmed at this. If Secretary Freeman had already heard of the operation and had time to arrive at the Mansion, he must have been looking at that crystal for over an hour. Perhaps two. He had to go make sure.
"Yes, I'm sure it'll be quite something. Now, if you excuse me, I've got to go make a call." He turned around and rounded the nearest corner, leaving Secretary Freeman's line of sight. He checked his watch, and found that almost an hour and a half had passed since the meeting ended. And he couldn't recall anything that had happened during that time. But he pushed that from his mind. He would worry about it later. In the meantime, he had to make a call.
Faldr Milzaek was almost fifty years old, though it was hard to gauge that just by looking at him. Since he lacked hair like most members of his species, his head was devoid of the grey hairs that would normally signify old age. In fact, other than a few recent wrinkle marks, he looked like any other middle aged adult bone. He was asleep, and completely naked save for a white and blue flower print shirt, in a hammock strung between two palm trees. A few dozen feet away, the waves lazily lapped against the shoreline of the beach he had inhabited the last two and a half decades of his life. That beach happened to lie on the shoreline of the smallest of the sparsely populated Cartonal Islands, a Republic of Bone Territories possession in the Wadral Sea. Because of the scarcity of visitors, there was no one in sight save for one lone surfer out in the water: his wife X'lish Trenya. They had met years ago, back when the two of them worked for the FIC, and moved to simple beach house in the Cartonal Islands after her exile from the country. Neither of them cared much, however, since they quickly got used to spending all of their time surfing and relaxing on the sand.
What they hadn't intended, however, was for their friend Jigafta Utenki to move there with them. He spent most of his time to himself in a cave, but occasionally reminded the couple of his existence with a round of beers and a night spend by a fire reliving their time as professional killers. As Faldr relaxed in his hammock that morning, however, Jigafta decided to pay them a visit for entirely different reasons.
Jigafta ambled wistfully down the hill on the side of Faldr opposing the beach. Despite being more than ten years older than Faldr, Jigafta's face was a picture of youth, lacking even a single wrinkle. What he did bear, however, was a series of long scars. One across the bulb of his nose, another down the side of his face, and a third through the corner of his lips. As he made his way to Faldr's hammock, he gripped a small, black briefcase.
"Wake up." Jigafta hissed as he slammed the briefcase on Faldr's stomach.
"You're in a mood today." Faldr muttered as he opened his eyes and adjusted to the light. "What happened, did the store run out of booze?"
"Pull yourself together. And open the briefcase."
"What is it?" Faldr asked as he popped the latches on the front and lifted the top. A small video screen with a small camera built in was imbedded in the lid, and a keyboard made up the bottom half. In the corner of the keyboard, next to a button labeled "call" was a blinking orange LED. Faldr stared at the device, confused. "This thing is ancient. What is it, some sort of convoluted computer?"
"It's a device Daniel gave me years ago in case I ever needed a reliable way to contact him." Jigafta bent down and pressed the call button. The orange LED stopped blinking, and maintained a steady orange glow. "But it appears he has called us." Jigafta leaned back up as the screen flickered to life. As the feed cleared up, Phoney appeared on screen, wearing a very somber expression.
"That isn't Daniel." Faldr pointed at the screen, stating the obvious.
"You and I have never met face to face before." Phoney began, ignoring the comment. "I am the President of the Republic of Bone Territories, Phoncible P. Bone. And I need your help, Faldr Milzaek."
"You're the President?" Faldr asked, examining Phoney's face. "You're younger than me. I must be getting pretty old."
"I would appreciate it if you took this seriously, agent Milzaek. We have a grave situation on our hands, and-"
"Let me stop you right there." Faldr interrupted. "I'm retired. I have been for over two decades. I'm done being an agent. Why should I just drop everything and come back to work like nothing's happened."
"Would it help if I told you the target was a man named Glaian Nagratek?" Phoney asked as he held up a picture of Glaian's face. Faldr froze as he heard the name. Suddenly he became very serious.
"Did you just say Nagratek?" Faldr asked. Phoney smirked and put the photo down.
"Yes. He's a terrorist who has hold himself up in a fortress in the far north. We need you to challenge him to a duel, defeat him, and force him to disband his forces."
"So I don't get to kill him?" Faldr gripped the top of the briefcase. His muscles began to tense up.
"That all depends on how effectively you negotiate the terms of the duel. His forces should uphold the conditions, even if it is a fight to the death."
"When do I go?"
"I assume that means you'll be taking the job, then."
"When do I go?" Faldr repeated himself.
"I've dispatched a helicopter from Camp Stalwart. It should arrive in an hour or two. From there you'll be taken as far north as the no-fly zone."
"No-fly zone?"
"Somehow, Glaian got his hands on a number of surface to air missiles, so we can't risk flying our helicopters near his fortress. It shouldn't be a problem for you, though."
"Do I need to pack any gear?"
"You'll be provided with everything when the helicopter arrives. Weapons, explosives, supplies for the journey on foot, an earpiece so we can remain in constant contact, and combat armor with a built in tracker so we can monitor your progress. Any other burning questions?"
"Yeah. Why is there a gold star sewn into your tie? That seems a little gauche." Faldr relaxed his grip and loosened his attitude again.
"I sincerely hope your skills are sharper than your wit. The helicopter will arrive in a few hours." Phoney unceremoniously cut the feed. The screen blinked off, and the orange LED faded to black.
"Well, that was certainly entertaining." Jigafta remarked. He gently closed the briefcase and lifted it from Faldr's lap. Faldr sat up and swung himself off of his hammock. Just as Jigafta was about to leave, he noticed X'lish approaching them, wearing a wetsuit and with her surfboard tucked under her arm.
"How was the water today?" Faldr asked as she planted her board on the ground and leaned it against one of the palm trees. She picked up a towel from the base of the tree before responding.
"Good. What's going on over here?" She replied, eyeing Jigafta and the briefcase as she dried her short, black hair. "You're never here this early."
"I got a call from Deyavara's emergency line." He lifted the briefcase into the air and pointed at it. "It was the President. He asked your idiot husband to come out of retirement." X'lish looked from Jigafta to Faldr, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"And you turned him down, right?" She asked her husband. He looked down sheepishly, avoiding her gaze. "You said yes!" She screamed. "How could you! Faldr, you know we left that life behind! We swore to each other we were done! How could you just-"
"The target is a Nagratek." He interrupted her tirade. "I have to do this."
"No, you don't. You got revenge for your father already. And besides, anyone can just claim to have been born with the name Nagratek. That doesn't mean they're related to-"
"I can't take that chance. If there's even the slightest possibility that it's Kelkaid Nagratek's son, I have to go. I have to make sure this ends. I don't expect you to approve, but I'm going." X'lish was silent for a moment.
"I suppose I can't stop you. But promise me this is it. That you won't run off in the middle of the night like Nibet to pursue some wild nostalgic fantasy."
"I promise." Faldr began walking up the hill toward their house. "Now, if you don't mind, I've go to go dig up my old sword." X'lish rolled her eyes.
"I'll go get the shovel." She followed him up the hill. Jigafta watched them go, and was about to follow them when he heard the briefcase beep again. He opened it back up, and the light was back on. He pressed the call button, and Daniel Deyavara's face flickered onto the screen.
"Daniel?" Jigafta asked. "What is it you need? Does the President still need to speak with Faldr?"
"No." Daniel cast his eyes down as he collected his thoughts. He looked extremely distraught. "My call is rather more… classified in nature. Do you remember that crystal you gave me before you fled the country?"
"Yes. Did you identify the supplier?"
"No, unfortunately, thought I should have something from Nibet in a few days. I'm calling because…" He paused. "I think it's stealing my memories. I know it sounds weird, but every time I've looked at it recently I get lost in some sort of wandering trance for hours at a time, and I can't quite recall what happens during them. Whatever this thing is, it's highly dangerous. I've locked it in a secure vault for now, but… I'm either losing my mind or something is happening here that I can't quite grasp. Something bad."
"So it's activated, huh?" Jigafta began muttering to himself. "That can't be good. That shouldn't even..." He went silent.
"Jigafta?" Daniel asked, his voice growing anxious. "What is it? Do you have any idea what's going on?"
"I've got a hunch. I'm going to have to gathers some materials for a few days. In the meantime, sit tight, act normal, and wait for me to contact you again."
"What do you mean materials? Jigafta, what's going on?" Daniel became frustrated.
"Don't worry about it. The chances of you actually being in danger are astronomically low, but I have to make sure. I'll call you again in a few days when I can know for sure." He disconnected the call, closed the briefcase, and made his way to the cave he lived in. he ducked through the small entrance and made his way to the back of the space that constituted his shelter. As he walked, he passed a table to his right. He threw the briefcase on it and grabbed two silenced handguns. He threw them, along with a knife and a set of black clothing, into a bag. Finally he arrived at the back of the cave. In the back was a small wooden box sitting on a small wooden dresser. He opened the box and pulled a golden chain necklace with a large blue crystal pendant on the end from inside.
"Well, Ven." He said aloud as he put the necklace in the bag as well. "It seems we get to go home after all."