Vega stood in front of the energy-field and folded his arms. "Hey."

It was a formality. Brad knew Vega had been approaching, and locked eyes with the child as he arrived.

Vega immediately held up a small folding knife, and flicked open the blade. He showed it to Brad. "I need you to try something."

Brad didn't say anything, just kept staring. A brow twitched.

Vega sighed and dropped the blade to the ground, kicking it into the cell with a quick skid of metal. Brad blinked as the blade skipped across the floor to his boots, then squinted with suspicion. The child then knelt, and stuck his forearm under the gap in the wall.

"I'm sure you won't mind." He said, wryly. "Come on."

Brad glanced blankly between the knife and Vega, who was impatient.

"Cut my arm. Stab it. Whatever."

"...the fuck is your problem?"

"Can you just do it?"

"No." Brad picked up the knife and looked at it. Expensive, well-balanced, clean lines, subtly emblazoned with Backdraft's mark. "I'll keep this though."

Vega sighed into the floor and sat back up. "You're gonna like it a lot less if he does it."

"Does wh-"

Brad realized a second too late, and tried to throw down the blade. He didn't. He couldn't. Instead his treacherous arm plunged it straight into his thigh. Though he managed to bite back a yell, Vega wasn't as successful. The child gripped his own leg and screeched out, "Okay okay okay okay!"

Brad ripped the blade out of his leg with a choked whine. His eyes shot back to Vega. Vague understanding dawned - the hand injury wasn't a one-off. In defiance of all sense, there was some sort of link. "Oh shit."

"Yeah... yeah. I need- I want to see if it…"

"I'm not going to stab you." Brad threw the knife back. "Have fun."

Brad noticed that the child's demeanor had completely changed. A chuckle - the Fury's; Vega picked the knife up and plunged it into his throat, ripping the blade straight across, a gout of blood-

Brad startled awake on the bench, hands grasping for his throat.

He was fine.

Vega was indeed standing by the cell wall. But there were no wounds, no knife, no blood. He just looked a little intrigued, a little disturbed. "You… saw that, huh."

Brad said nothing, just stared, wide-eyed.

"Yeah… uh. This might be a problem." Vega said.

"That's real?"

Brown eyes darted in thought. Vega looked at his hand, then at Brad. "I… I think so, but I-"

"But you're too chickenshit to actually see what happens." Brad sat up and faced Vega.

Vega had never been described as chickenshit in his entire short life, but he knew what it meant and resented it fiercely. "I'm not- I just- I know something 's going to happen."

"Whatever, kid. It's not an issue if you don't slit your fucking throat."

Vega smiled impolitely, with too many teeth. "Or you, yours."

"Not really into mutually assured destruction. I just want to leave."

Vega started shaking his head. "If Sara figures this out you're never getting out of here."

"Then let me out."

"We have to take care of the Liger. Then..."

"Then what, Vega. Then what."

Vega blinked. He didn't know. He wasn't sure. The Fury had just promised that everything would be better, that they could get on with their life, seize their destiny and whatnot. But he'd never specified how this would happen. Or what it would entail. It just…

He thought about what Sara had said. The child abruptly deactivated the energy field, and took a step back. "Just... come with me."

Brad froze, taking in this development.

"Don't run." Vega said through his teeth.

Brad bolted. The child's face fell.

Brad tore most of the way down the dark corridor before his eyes unfocused, his pace slowed, and he trotted to a smothering grip of the Fury was literally everywhere, inescapable and filling his veins with ice and a willful obedience. The drive to flee went extinct, the desire did not. Brad just stood there, staring down the hall, trapped-animal panic in his eyes.

Vega arrived beside him and sighed in exasperation. "You can't leave. Like. Can't."

The child was surprised to see furious tears welling in the older man's eyes, and that rage came sharply to bear: Brad turned to Vega and slammed him into the wall, shoving him up off of the ground with a forearm.

But the child didn't seem alarmed, just annoyed. "Come on. You wanted out of the box. You're out. This is how you get shot."

"Bet that'll suck for you."

Vega's jaw worked a bit as he considered. Yeah, it probably would. "I need you to believe me here… you really, really don't want Sara to figure this out. I don't either."

"Then let me leave."

"I can't. For the same reason you can't." And it wasn't a lie. Vega was equally at the Fury's mercy, albeit on its better side. "You're the one who can help us. Fury needs us."

"I'm not interested in helping you and I don't care what your Zoid needs. I don't want to hurt anyone else. I want to go home."

Vega folded his arms and sneered half-heartedly. "Don't always get what you want."

"And I suppose you do?"

"You think I want a bunch of strangers touching, piloting, and puking in my Zoid? You think I want to be in this stupid little base? You think I want to be the loser whose fault this all is?" Vega laughed, that obnoxious laugh. "Sure, yeah. I get what I want."

Brad scowled. "There has to be another way, Vega. I can't do this."

"You can, and you will." The Fury's vile demeanor glinted in Vega's eyes. "You have no choice. Cease this conflict."

Brad couldn't keep Vega pinned against the wall, couldn't stay firmly standing, couldn't have a single coherent thought. He knew it was the Fury, and wanted to fight off its influence, but the world became an irrelevant haze. The Fury gently peeled Brad away, then let go.

Vega dropped to the ground, straightened his shirt, and looked up at Brad, who glared down at him. After a span of terse silence, they walked quietly down the corridor together.

It was awkward, uncomfortable, and irritating in every way imaginable. But Brad wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to feel slightly more human again and get a damn shower.

He didn't have anything clean to change into. Yet, as Brad was acquainted with living rough, this wasn't the problem it might've been for most. Though he wanted nothing more than to leave this godforsaken place, Brad knew damn well he, quite literally, could not. So while angrily debating his options, he washed some of his clothes in Vega's bathroom. Of which Vega had his own private - albeit small - one, because of course he did.

Vega had scarcely done manual labor in his entire life, outside of that which training as a pilot entailed. Brad's aggressive display of self-sufficiency despite the situation, intrigued him.

They'd also not said anything to each other for about an hour.

"You're pretty tough." Vega finally said.

Brad glanced but didn't reply, just wrung out his shirt and hung it up with everything else. He just leaned on the counter, wearing a towel around his waist and glowering at existence.

"Fury likes that about you."

"Lucky me."

"He's not a bad Zoid."

"Hate to see what you think a bad Zoid is."

They both thought about the Liger Zero simultaneously, albeit for different reasons. They looked at each other, and Vega leaned forward curiously. "You've piloted him?"

"Tried. Failed."

"What was he like?"

Brad shrugged noncommittally, but the Fury leered in. ~He was judgmental. I am not. You accept me, and I accept you.~ The man deeply resented how much he both hated and thrived on hearing that. He looked at Vega again. "Either Bit and the Liger 'matter' to you or they don't. And why ask questions if they don't."

Vega withdrew and silently glared.

Silence, for another span.

Brad sighed. "Kid, I don't envy your situation. But you've dragged me into this shitshow and now I'm stuck too. I don't know what to do any more than you do."

"How about you actually stop calling me kid."

"Stop acting like one."

Vega stood and paced irritably around the small room, shooting dirty looks at Brad but ultimately settling back into a sulky silence. "I didn't do this. Sara did."

"Layon told me."

"Then why are you blaming me?"

"Your damn Zoid, your damn circus."

Vega looked to the Fury for support, but it was just watching the two, neutral. Brad warily eyed the Fury in-mind, then glanced at Vega. It was clear he was addressing them both. "Why, exactly, do we have to off Bit and the Liger? What about that fixes anything?"

Vega wouldn't meet Brad's eyes. "I don't know."

The Fury said nothing.

"It's a simple question. I deserve an answer!"

Vega held out his hands and tamped them downwards, wincing. "Don't yell."

Brad took a deep breath but thought better of it. He kept a sidelong glare on the Fury, becoming aware that his temper was an open invitation for its fuckery.

The Fury regarded Brad idly, thoughtfully. After a moment it bled down between the two, sinking affectionate talons into both, a stifling, yet strangely comforting presence. ~The Liger Zero is our enemy. He brings untold pain and wishes suffering upon us. We will destroy him, restore balance and be free of the menace.~

Vega was used to the Fury's affection. Brad was not. He tried to keep the Fury at a metaphorical arm's length, squinting at its statement. What? What on Zi had the Liger done to the Fury to elicit such fierce hatred? The Zoids had only fought what, twice?

The Fury's voice narrowed and slowed - it spoke only to Brad, and with a gentle condescension. ~He has been my enemy since before your race set foot on my world.~

Brad simply froze, struck speechless by the many disturbing implications of that statement.

~Time can slow the mind and consume the body, but pain always remains. You, so concerned with harming a handful of insects… why?~ The Fury crept closer, ruinously deeper, like an unseen bleed in the brain. ~You know you do not meet what is required of a 'good person', so why bother with the charade?~

Brad stayed silent.

~I accept you. I care for you. I am here for you. As you are.~

It hurt. He wanted to hate this thing. Be afraid of it. Be angry. Be anything. But he only found himself able to embrace it, heartsick at the thought of anything else.

Vega's eyes were unfocused, flicking with thought and unheard conversation. He frowned, his branch of conversation still on the Liger. "Bit seems fine though. I mean can't we- shouldn't we- I don't know. Help him?"

~He has made his choice.~

'He' wasn't Bit. 'He' was the Liger Zero. Just as the Fury chose his own partner, the Liger chose his. Bit's involvement was more in the realm of required casualty than intended target. But it didn't make his destruction any less inevitable and necessary. The Fury seemed to relish in the idea.

Vega gave Brad a dead-eyed look, which the man refused to return.

It was clear that no one had really been monitoring the abducted pilots, because no one noticed Brad's absence. There wasn't any doubt that the cell was secure, and the well-being of those taken wasn't really a worthwhile consideration. Vega knew this. Brad did too. It assured the actions of the former and quietly enraged the latter.

Late, dark, and silent; Vega lay deeply asleep in his bed.

Brad was not asleep, tense and uncertain, walking restlessly around the room for what seemed like hours. He wasn't quite sure how one could feel both trapped and empowered, but he did.

On the top of one small dresser Brad noticed a knife. The knife, the one in that unsettling dream. He quietly pocketed it, and continued pacing. He was still starving. He wondered if he could leave the room just to go find something to eat. But he knew where approximately nothing was, with the exception of the Berserk Fury and the cell he'd been in. The slim promise of somehow finding food didn't weigh sufficiently against the threat of being found.

He really wanted rest. He'd been able to sleep off-and-on, and he'd not had anyone chasing him down with needles for quite some time. Yet despite being tired, and trying to get comfortable in various spots on the floor, sleep now never came. Because Vega had a clock in his room, Brad knew it was well past midnight.

It was therefore very obnoxious to see Vega sleeping like the dead.

At length, Brad opened the door to Vega's room and glared silently out into the dim corridor.

~Come to me.~

Vega shot up from sleep a few minutes later, cursing and mumbling as he stumbled out of bed. He scrambled into his piloting gear and took off down the hall as quietly as he could. At a dead run it didn't take him long, but Brad was already there.

Hands in his pockets, standing in front of the Berserk Fury, Brad stood surveying the Zoid. Vega's first instinct was to yell at the man, but the Fury quietly shushed him, indicating the dark, the silence, and the now-locked hangar doors.

Vega immediately calmed, and loped to a halt beside Brad. The Fury's latent-but-rising rile made the room electric, and Vega eagerly looked up at his Zoid. He wanted- no, he yearned to climb back into its cockpit, run off and be gloriously free of this place. He glanced sidelong at Brad, suddenly envious.

~Vega, no. You understand why this must be done. But you will accompany us.~ The Berserk Fury turned its head and growled at the handful of other Zoids in the hangar. ~One of you. Serve him.~

Vega was again tempered by the Fury, and glanced. The other Zoids in the hangar had backed into dark recesses and corners, their optics and eyeglass glinting fearfully in the dark. Vega stared at them, confused. "It's cool. Come out."

The Zoids did not think it was cool. They politely informed Vega that it was very uncool, and they would prefer to stay right where they were.

~One of you will serve him or I will destroy all but one and make the decision for you.~

A single Hel Digunner crept forward submissively. The Berserk Fury gave it a scathing look, but approved.

Vega looked up at the Fury again. It was looking down at Brad, and he could tell from the man's stance and vague movements that they were having a conversation. Brown eyes narrowed.

~Vega.~

"Sorry, I just…"

The Fury gave him a rough mental nuzzle, the equivalent of a lion nuzzling a shrew - overwhelming and you weren't sure the lion wouldn't eat it. The child calmed yet again, and reluctantly climbed into the Hel Digunner.

Layon was fast asleep on the workbench, the day's trash piled around him, a variety of tools and half-built pieces shoved to one side. The Shadow Fox stood, nearby and massive in the small space, its eyeglass dark.

Audio sensors twinged. Eyeglass brightened slowly from red, to amber, to gold.

The Berserk Fury's shrieking roar pierced the base.

Layon startled awake and looked around blearily, finally summoning enough sense to check his watch. Why the hell would-

He watched the Fox cower and try to move further from the door, and looked up at a monitor of the adjacent hangar which showed many other panicked Zoids behaving similarly. Layon's stomach dropped as he felt the Berserk Fury's weight thundering through the ground, the night's dead silence forcing sound and sensation into unwelcome, nightmarish highlight.

There was no way this was anything like what Sara had been discussing. But he had a gut feeling that what Sara wanted didn't matter anymore.

There would be no alarms. There would be no fighting. No Zoid would disobey the King and his monsters. And human whim without a Zoid could be safely disregarded. Layon watched a few soldiers show up in confusion then retreat, clearly at a loss.

He switched a monitor to view several of the infrared external cameras. In a painfully casual way, the Berserk Fury strolled out of the main hangar's exit corridor, a Hel Digunner beside it. The Fury stretched, oriented itself, then the two took off quickly - in the direction Layon very well knew the Blitz Team base was.

Layon's eyes flicked with brief thought and stopped on the Fox.

It looked back at him quizzically.