He'd taken to making the rounds of the Dead Sea Plant when he wasn't going over the notes Dr. Balkus had given him. It wasn't as if there was much a one-legged Hyper Zoanoid could do, even one who had been one of the best the way he had. The thump of his crutches as he made his way down the hallway still infuriated him, even after all this time. Still, just because he hated his situation – and the looks of pity it inspired from those who'd been his peers – there was no real reason to give up the rest of his pride, no real need for him to become a lowlife like those Lost Numbers.

Still, just having himself regenerated in the 'tanks felt like a betrayal of their memory. They had been the best Hyper Zoanoids he had known, the best friends he had ever had. Elegen and all the rest had been pretty much the only family that he had ever known: Zektor had never known his family or if he had once had friends outside of Chronos. It wasn't like the issue was all that important in the grand scheme of things, but it was still something he thought about when there wasn't anything else for him to concentrate on.

He'd been thinking about it a great deal more often now, of course.

Resuming his walk – not that he had anywhere to go but back to his room – Zektor started to hear the sounds of approaching people. This place might not have been one of the most well used sections of the Dead Sea Plant, which was why he liked it so much and had requested to be moved to the place, but there were still people in the area. When those selfsame people started talking, though, that was when he paused to listen. Who knew—it could be some interesting gossip. Or maybe even actual news for a change.

"I told you we were lost."

"Oh, put a sock in it, you pushy son of a porcupine."

Must be one of those Lu-kill types, Zektor thought, chuckling softly. It sounded like ol' Lu-kill had managed to get some of his compatriots mad at him. It almost reminded Zektor of the way Zancrus would carry on when he'd gotten Team Five lost on one of his harebrained "shortcuts". Now, if this were my people I was dealing with, about now is when I'd probably mention-

"Listen you, we didn't request the scenic tour here. Now, if you really don't know which way we need to go, we can go find someone to ask just where we're going."

Well, this guy seems to have his guys under control. Of course, if that were Zancrus, about now is when he'd start saying something like-

"Hey! Are we men or not? We don't have to ask for directions. I know where we're going."

"The only thing you know how to do is get the rest of us lost, so why don't you let someone who actually knows what he's doing take charge here?"

The similarity to his dead friends was getting to be uncomfortable now, so Zektor decided to leave these new guys – whoever they happened to be – and find his way back to his room. It wasn't like he was ever going to get to see the rest of Team Five again, and being reminded of them just made the old wounds hurt all over again. Contrary to what some people might have believed about him, Zektor wasn't a masochist.

"Look, your almighty bugness, you might be our leader, but it wouldn't hurt you to actually-mmmfff!"

"If you finish that sentence, Zancrus, so help me I will have you running laps until you get dizzy and barf."

Zektor very nearly bit through his own tongue at that; not only from the name of the Zoanoid in question, but from the voice that had spoken the name. Up to that point, he'd been almost successfully ignoring the fact that these new guys had sounded almost exactly like Team Five when they were in their human forms, when they had been free from their many and varied responsibilities and left to amuse themselves in whichever base they had been stationed in.

When the not-his-Team-Five started talking again, Zektor turned and fled from the hallway, not caring about how loud he might have been while trying to move quickly on crutches, or really much of anything but getting the hell away from the people in the hallway. People who were exactly like his own team while still not being them and what in the fuck was going on?! Once he'd made it back to his room, looking over his shoulder all the while to make sure that none of the – not Team Five; couldn't be Team Five; was not Team Five – people that he'd just met had followed him back. None of them had. Hobbling his way over to the bed, Zektor laid his crutches down within easy reach and then threw himself down on the soft, yielding surface.

Maybe it was time he started seriously reconsidering that offer that Dr. Balkus had made him.

XxXxX

Kenji was still sleeping when Imakarum came back into their room, and Imakarum smiled briefly as he caught sight of his son. Lord Luggnagg had made a rather odd request: he and Lord Fried'rich were going to oversee operations at Chronos Illinois' Pillars of Heaven, and Lord Luggnagg wanted Kenji to come with them. The Ninth Zoalord had said that he had wanted to educate Kenji about what Chronos was doing in that area. He had seemed very eager to have Kenji along with them, and Kenji would be well protected with both Lords Luggnagg and Fried'rich staying with him. So there was no real harm in letting Kenji go to Chicago, and though it would be rather lonely in Cloud Tower without him around, his son had been expressing an interest in traveling lately. And the journey would not be particularly dangerous. The trip was also two days away, giving him ample time to gently introduce the idea and help his son acclimate to it.

Sitting down on the edge of their bed, Imakarum settled in to watch Kenji as he slept. It was one of his favorite pastimes to watch Kenji until he woke up, then have his son stay with him for the rest of the day—at least when he was not occupied with work for Chronos. He'd had few chances to watch Kenji sleep lately, what with the increasing number of attacks made by the Guyvers, not to mention Atkins and his irksome Anti Chronos Task Force.

That only made the prospect of being separated from him for an indeterminate length of time all the less attractive. Still, Lord Fried'rich and Lord Luggnagg would be there, and none of the attacks by Chronos' enemies had taken place in Illinois. Not yet, anyway. Still, Kenji might get lonely if he was away from his father for so long: a month was a very long time for one so young. Imakarum knew that from Masaki Murakami's memories, and he was not going to make the same mistakes with his son as that infuriating, foolish man.

Turning his attention back to his sleeping son, Imakarum noticed that Kenji was starting to shift restlessly, the same way he always did when he was starting to wake up. Kenji rubbed his eyes with the back of his balled fist, blinking to clear the last of the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning, Kenji," Imakarum said softly, reaching over to stroke Kenji's right cheek.

"Morning, Dad," Kenji said, yawning as he leaned into Imakarum's hand.

"Would you like to get some breakfast now, Kenji-chan?"

Kenji nodded enthusiastically, leaning against Imakarum, who chucked.

"You're going to have to get out of bed then, Kenji-chan."

"Oh, okay then." Kenji smiled, sitting up and then climbing up and out of their bed.

Imakarum ruffled Kenji's long hair as he helped his son to stand back up. Walking him over to their closet, Imakarum helped him get dressed, and then waited while Kenji put his shoes on. That was something that Kenji had always seemed to enjoy doing himself, so Imakarum stood back and watched. He was sure it helped that he had bought slip-ons for Kenji to wear—black, just like the ones Kenji had worn when he was still small.

Still merely human.