Buck sat against the wall of their common room. For its purpose, it was more like a cell. Four walls with no way in or out except through that capsule where, inevitably, their luck would run out sooner or later.

Not if he had anything to say about it.

Right now, the others were all sitting together a ways away, settling down for the night. The newcomers to their group, two men that he hadn't bothered to familiarize himself with, went over strategies and expectations for the next day. Grenier and Fallon, their names were. One ARES, the other WOH like Rose. Both of them had been cooperative thus far, but Buck wasn't trying to get too attached.

Tomorrow was the next match, and he had five other lives to take care of. Rose, Vale, Gray, Grenier, and Fallon. Five names for him to keep track of, and five potential graves he might have to dig if he screwed this up.

He wasn't without his partiality; Grenier and Fallon weren't as high a priority, simply due to their relatively recent time of meeting. He'd save them if he could, but not at the cost of the others' lives.

Rose had been with him the longest, and the man trusted Buck a great deal. If there was as close to a second in command in their current situation, Rose was it.

Gray and Vale had come together with O'neill, and he wasn't sure how he felt about them. Gray seemed likable enough, if a bit quiet. She carried out commands without hesitation, and remained amicable amongst relations with everyone. She was a good soldier, and that's what he needed right now.

Vale … he couldn't understand why the woman was so prevalent in his mind. She'd distrusted him at first, almost shown contempt for him … but despite that, she'd overcome her own misgivings and at least respected him enough to follow orders. The point was only driven home further when he recalled her reluctant obedience to station herself in the pit. She hadn't wanted to, but she'd done it anyway.

He shook his head forcefully. At the end of the day, she was another able-body willing to listen. That was it.

Turning his attention back to what he'd been poring over for the last few days, he scrolled through everything again to make sure he knew what he was doing come tomorrow's match. Otherwise, he might end up dead.

He'd had suspicions before that the hexagonal panels were holographic in nature rather than physical-lighting based; it was cheaper, saved resources, but most importantly … it was an exploitable weakness.

Every panel reacted when a round hit it, giving a small ripple in the air. Very minor shielding of sorts, to protect them from all the ammunition being fired in the arenas. And within each one would be a small segment of a panoramic holographic projection that acted as the 'setting' for each arena. But those kinds of devices could be easily disrupted, and if he could just see once more that he was right …

The others hadn't known that he'd been recording the entirety of the match from his optics, making sure to pay attention to Vale's Spitfire impacts against the back of the arena. As he'd thought, the larger projectiles in quick succession were able to punch through the shielding for minute fractions of a second. It still wasn't clear what was behind the no-longer opaque panels, however. So he was forced to look at a different angle.

He skipped to Irish's death, and felt the same pangs of regret hit him now as it had then, watching her body vaporized before his eyes. But that softball projectile might have just been enough to-

There. The shielding had been completely broken, as well as the holographic image inside. And what he could see wasn't much to go on, but it was something.

Beyond the walls, he could see massive expanses of chamber, like the arena was held in mid-air. A wall could be made out far away, and machinery of some kind adorned it. What the hell kind of facility was this?

In any matter, it at least told him that there was something beyond those walls, somewhere they could escape. If he could just find where the Titans were, then EV could still be-

"Hey. You alright?"

He stopped analyzing the recording and flipped his optics back to view Vale standing in front of him, her silhouette a backlit orange by the only light source in the middle of the room.

Buck nodded, but didn't say much. He didn't really have anything to say to her, and was genuinely curious why she was even talking to him.

To his even greater surprise, she sat down next to him and stayed there. He glanced over at her.

"What is it?"

She turned to face him, an expression of confusion on her features. "What is what?"

He waved his arm at her. "I mean, you didn't exactly express comfort at Simulacrums when we first met. Didn't think you'd want to spend your company with me is all."

She sighed. "Yeah, well … like you said; we're a team. Who gives a damn who or what any of us are?" She gave a small smile. "For as much as it's worth, anyway. It's not likely any of us are going to last much longer in here anyway."

"This is certainly a big change from earlier," he remarked, still unwilling to fully accept she'd altered her perspective in a few days.

He could see her face fall, but she didn't fight him. "Look … you're right about me not knowing what it's like to be one. Why don't you explain?"

Taken aback, he asked, "Explain?"

"Yeah, like … how is it compared to your old body?"

No one had ever really questioned him about that before, aside from the lab techs when he'd first awoken. "Well …"

He gave it some thought. "It's a permanent change, at least until they find a way to reupload synthetic minds into organic bodies. I don't … feel anymore so much as I sense. Physical touch and pain are triggered through artificial nerves. It's not so much feeling someone touching me as it is just someone touching me and me being made aware of it. You know?"

She seemed intrigued, and her expression encouraged him to continue.

"I'm stronger and more powerful than before, but it comes with one sacrifice after another; you give up touch, taste, smell … I don't even speak, not literally anyway. No vocal cords; I just think about what to say and my speakers shout it out. Everything is just a number now, triggering some kind of sensor somewhere in me to let me know my environment. I can't love anyone anymore, at least not physically. Everything about me is specifically tailored to war."

"Why do it then?" she asked quietly. "If you have to give up so much for it, why go through with it?"

He gave an electronic sigh. "I've watched too many people give their lives for this war. Think about that, sacrificing your entire existence for a chance at peace and standing up for what you believe in." He scoffed. "At least I still get to live afterwards; if it even gave me a slight advantage, how could I not do it?"

His voice became quiet once more. "I mean … I wasn't prepared for the fact that I literally can't die anymore. Not really, anyway. Every time my body gets destroyed, the lab techs get a notification and just upload my mind again."

He looked at her and said dryly, "That is if I'm not already dead like you suggested. Maybe you're right; maybe I really am a dead man walking."

Vale didn't have a real answer for that, but instead remained silent for a while as they enjoyed one another's company. Within a few minutes, the others came over and sat down beside them.

Rose glanced over at them. "Everything alright?"

Instead of letting Vale flounder, he replied to subtly give her confirmation of the amiability between them, "Yes, we're fine."

The WOH Pilot grunted and then turned to Gray. "What do you think they'll put us up against tomorrow? First week we had meadows, second was snow … desert?"

She appeared to give it some thought. "Definitely a possibility. I think that this is all a guise, though."

Fallon tilted his head. "How so?"

Gray pursed her lips. "We've been told that we're being monitored for behavior and to see how Pilots fight. But …" She shook her head as though she were disturbed by a particularly unpleasant thought. "The tone and language expressed by that damn voice is bordering on sadistic. I think we're just being played with at this point; toys for her enjoyment, whoever she is."

That was certainly a humbling thought, and was emphasize all the more as Grenier grumbled, "You sure know how to freak the hell out of people, that's for sure."

Rose chuckled. "Just means we got all the more reason to find a way out of here before we begin to bore her." He turned towards the Simulacrum. "Isn't that right, Buck?"

He was about to agree with the man before realizing what Gray had just made apparent in his mind; if they were going to escape, it wasn't just about beating the arena … they'd have to beat whoever was imprisoning them here.

Right now, she held all the cards; she had every Pilot right where she wanted, fighting one another or stuck in these makeshift quarters and training rooms. He wouldn't doubt her ingenuity in placing hidden cameras or other manners of security in each room to look for such a suggestion like escape.

If they were being observed and he told them the plan, it would all be over. Which meant … he couldn't tell any of them.

"No," he muttered, "I don't think there's a way out. Not yet, anyway."

Rose obviously hadn't expected that answer, and sighed. "Well … damn." Buck could hear the disappointment in his voice, and he felt bad for taking away some of the man's hope.

"If we really are doomed to die here," Gray began, "then at least I can say it was great to meet you all before … you know."

Rose nodded. "Couldn't have said it better myself. It's been an honor either way, whether we live or die."

After that, conversation generally ended. All the others began to claim their own spots on the floor in preparation for the match tomorrow until only he and Vale were left. The brunette stood up, and walked a few paces away before stopping and turning back.

"Actually … it might be nice to have some company on what could be the last night of our lives."

Before he could protest, she laid down next to him and became still. It wasn't flirtatious in any sense of the word; this was more primal, it was a need to have someone close in a time of great fear. She kept surprising him tonight, first with her sudden change in paradigm and now with her selection of him as her source of comfort.

He was about to set himself into a rest mode before her heard her whisper, "You're not dead."

He looked at her. "What?"

Her eyes stared back at him. "I can see how much you care about getting everyone out. I was wrong about you … even if your body is dead, I know that your mind and heart are just as alive as they were before."

Smiling, she closed her eyes and went to sleep, leaving him to ponder over what the hell he was going to do tomorrow.

He knew the truth; the voice had suppressed whatever link he had with his Titan, and perhaps his ability to reupload. If he died, it would probably be permanent.

But he also knew that even if it killed him, he was going to get everyone out.

Not just his team; everyone.