The Speed of Darkness
Chapter 39 – Animosity

HIS VISION HAD FINALLY BEEN RESTORED.

It was as if all of the robotic penguin's problems had just been whisked away by the previous night's sleep. Most notable was the fact that he could now see normally again, his sense of vision returning to his normal eye. The red flashing stopped and he could again see in full color and full animation.

The penguin was now breathing again, as well. His first few breaths had been shaky, and the cool air burned his throat. After only a few mouthfuls he was readjusted to the use of his own lungs, though, and knew he would no longer have to rely on his embedded oxygen supply. It would now begin replenishing itself so that he could use it at another point in time if he deemed it necessary.

Movement had also come slowly. He was surprised at how weak he was, and upon attempting to stand, found he was unable to support his own weight. He figured it was more because he had been laying still for the last nearly two weeks than his body was still repairing himself. He knew he'd have to do some exercising to get his strength back up to where it was before. Regardless, he was happy to have feeling back in his flippers and legs. He flexed his webbed toes, ran his flippers over themselves. He had almost forgotten what it was like to feel his own flesh and feathers.

The other penguins, Skipper's teammates, reacted interestingly at the fact that he was now active again. Rico did not seem particularly excited about the robotic penguin stirring during his driving shift, but was impressed to see him moving around. Rico had helped him try to stand, and caught him when he fell. He was happy that Rico was so comfortable around him, even though he knew his appearance could be terrifying. Rico seemed to already have formed some sort of bond with him, but he didn't know why. Maybe it was because this whole situation demanded it, or maybe it was because he supported anyone Skipper supported.

Private, on the other hand, didn't seem as happy. In fact, Manfredi sensed a distinct feeling of fear from the smaller penguin when he had stood for the first time in weeks. He knew that he intimidated the smaller penguin, but had no idea to what extent. Whereas Rico was supporting half of his weight trying to get him to stand, Private seemed to be taking small steps back. Manfredi wondered what the smaller penguin thought of him. Did he think he was some sort of monster, raised from the dead?

The specialist had left the helm shortly after Manfredi had collapsed again, not saying a word. He returned with Skipper a few moments later, who was now standing with the other two penguins. Rico had gently propped him up against the wall, similar to the position that he had been sitting in the previous two nights. This time however, Manfredi was fully conscious and couldn't stop running his organic flipper over the metal one, feeling the hard, cold plates. He continued this for a few moments before anyone spoke.

"How are you feeling?" asked Skipper, flippers crossed. Manfredi looked up from his own flippers and saw the leader penguin with his brow arched.

"Weak," Manfredi responded, "but I am ready to confront my target regardless."

"That's good. I don't think we can do this without you."

Manfredi cocked his head a bit, thoughtfully, "That is untrue. If I were to have fallen, you would have carried on."

"Maybe so. Whether we would have been successful or not is a different story entirely," returned the flat-headed penguin.

The boat rocked back and forth gently in the waves. Manfredi rested his head back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes, inhaling the salty sea air, taking in the peaceful moment. He knew what was coming. He knew that it was time to show Skipper what had happened to Johnson. It was one of his deepest, darkest memories. It was one that tore at his conscious and made him wonder every moment how he could have performed differently to save Johnson's life. Johnson was the last thing he had before he was turned into this heartless bundle of feathers and steel, and he was about to relive the exact moment when that happen. He felt his flippers tense up and returned his attention to the three penguins across the room.

"Are you ready?" he said, simply. Skipper nodded.

He returned the nod, and then remembered Johnson, the bunker, Edgar, and Caspian. As he did so, he felt his vision fade and his body go limp. One last time, he thought.

"Where are you going, Private?" Skipper said, sounding like he was miles away.

"Just going out to see what Marlene's up to, Skippah."

"Forget Marlene for now. You need to see this. Then everything will make a whole lot more sense..."

The leader's commanding voice trailed off as Manfredi felt himself get pulled away from reality once more; one last time. The cool air on his flippers began to feel as cold as ice. The salty sea air around him started to turn putrid. Private's soft voice turned into Johnson's terrified screams...

"Alright. You're looking for a small, circular device that has a beak-shaped elastic cover with it. You can't miss it when you find it. It's something that you could fit right over your own bill," explained Edgar. Johnson nodded with understanding. He was holding one of the glow sticks, now active and emitting light, rather than his journal. Manfredi held it tightly for him as Johnson prepared to venture into the ruined armory.

"While you're in there," said Manfredi, "check for any other supplies that could be useful. Also see if there is any way you can get out through there. Maybe we can avoid swimming through the water entirely."

"Gotcha," returned the smaller penguin. He looked determined and not the least bit scared. Manfredi thought about when he had first met Johnson. The young penguin would have not been able to investigate a ruined, pitch black armory alone. Manfredi knew that the younger penguin had grown up a lot since they had first met.

"Good luck," said Manfredi as the small penguin squeezed himself into the crack in the wall, "and hurry back!"

The green light of Johnson's glow stick faded away and left the other three penguins sitting alone in the dimly lit bunker turned freezer turned bunker. The smell of the natural gas was becoming prevalent throughout the space now, even this far away from the broken pipe. Manfredi wondered briefly how much time they had before they would suffocate from lack of oxygen. He figured it must have been at least a few hours.

"Don't you think if he finds a way out through there, he's going to just escape and forget about us?" said Caspian suddenly. Manfredi directed his attention toward the flat-headed penguin to see him with his brow arched and his flippers crossed. The larger penguin couldn't help but allude the look to Skipper.

"Johnson?" he returned. "No way. He'd never even consider leaving us in here alone."

"I'm not so sure. I say if he finds his own way out, he's going to leave us to die," retorted Fishslader, making Manfredi scowl.

"Johnson is a better teammate than you've ever known," he barked, jabbing his flipper into the ex-Sargent's chest. "He's going to find those rebreathers and come straight back here."

Sarge chuckled, but then returned to his previous look. "Don't you understand? When there's a risk of dieing, penguins don't stick together. They fight only as far as it takes to save their own feathers. He's probably already forgotten about us."

Manfredi raised his flipper to strike Fishslader, but Edgar held him back. "Shut up, Caspian" he said, "You know damn well that we were the ones who saved you from being vaporized only a few hours ago."

The flat-headed penguin ran a flipper over his bandages. "For obvious reason," he smirked.

"For what?" asked Edgar. He was still holding Manfredi back, but the penguin was not struggling against the black-beaked penguin's grip. However, his face was still twisted into a scowl.

"Without me you boys would be nowhere. You'd have no leader, and therefore would be lost like a bunch of pigeons in the dark."

Sarge flinched as he was tackled to the ground in a flurry of feathers, but surprisingly, Manfredi still stood. He couldn't help but smile at Edgar, who was now on top of the smaller penguin, holding his flippers to the concrete.

"That's it, you son of a bitch," growled the red-eyed penguin. "Now I regret ever joining onto your stupid scheme. I regret ever saving your life!

"Is that how you talk to your superior?" spat Caspian, his face twisted with anger.

"You are not my superior. You never were."

As he spoke, Edgar slammed Caspian's flippers into the concrete, making him flinch. Manfredi felt it was time to intervene and pulled the enraged penguin off of Sarge. His beak was clenched and he was still shaking angrily, but he did not resist Manfredi. Fishslader picked himself up from the concrete and dusted off his feathers.

"See what I mean, Manfredi," said Sarge, rubbing his flippers together where Edgar had wrenched them, "Edgar forgot about me just that easily. He doesn't care about his teammate anymore. He only cares about his own feathers."

"No," disagreed the large penguin. "You are just egging him on!"

"You should be thanking me for all I've done for you," seethed Edgar, "not talking down to me like I'm your worthless foot soldier!"

"What's going on out here?" came Johnson's voice suddenly, making all of the commotion between the other three penguins stop. In his flippers he held four penguin-beak-shaped contraptions.

"None of your worry," said Sarge, who snatched one of the rebreathers out of his flippers.

"You made it!" exclaimed Manfredi excitedly. "This inconsiderate bastard says you wouldn't return. You'd leave without us if you found an exit," he continued, pointing towards Caspain.

"I wasn't even thinking about leaving," explained Johnson. "Besides, there's so much debris in there I doubt there is any way out. I didn't even see any daylight coming in from anywhere."

"Regardless of my comrade's actions accusations, then, it seems like going through the flooded tunnel is still our only hope," responded Edgar who had finally calmed down a bit.

"So how do these things work?" asked Manfredi who had traded Johnson his journal back in exchange for one of the devices. "Do we just slip it over our beaks?"

"Exactly. Make sure that the circular vent is near the front, and the seal around the base of your beak is tight. That way, no water will get into your nose or mouth," explained the black-beaked penguin, also taking his own rebreather.

Suddenly Sarge began choking and spluttering, ripping the device off of his face. He gasped for air a few times and then threw the rebreather to the ground, looking angry.

"You told me this thing would help me breathe, not kill me!" he shouted towards Edgar, who merely scowled.

"What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know. I couldn't breathe at all with it on."

Edgar waddled over and picked the rebreather off the ground, examining it closely. "It's been completely smashed," he concluded, tapping on the circular filter. "That, or it was exposed to too much heat during the explosion and fused shut."

Meanwhile, Manfredi had been fastening his own device to his beak, trying his best to ensure the seal was tight. When he was sure no external air could slip in he attempted to inhale, but to his horror, no fresh air met his nostrils. He ripped the cover off his beak and gasped for air much in the same way that Sarge did.

"Mine is fried too," he announced, solemnly.

"And I'm afraid this third one is as well," continued Edgar, toying with the filter on his own mask. Three down, one left.

"This one works," said Johnson, who had already placed his mask over his nostrils and mouth. It muffled his voice but he was still audible. He broke the seal and pealed it off. "At least I think it works."

"Let me see that," said Edgar, taking the mask away from Johnson. He prodded at the filter a few times before handing it back. "It's also been damaged, but at least this one is still usable."

"Were there any more rebreathers in there?" asked Manfredi to Johnson.

"I'm afraid not," answered the smaller penguin, holding his mask, the glow stick, and his journal under one flipper.

"Well, it looks like only one of us is getting out of here then," said Sarge. His flippers were crossed and he was staring directly at Johnson, his brow lowered. Johnson looked awkwardly around for a moment before speaking.

"One of us could probably get out, if its even possible, and try to find a way to get the others out."

Manfredi gestured towards the port door that had been bent during the explosion and said, "That door isn't very strong from the outside. I bet if one of us got out, it wouldn't be too hard to bash in. It might even just twist open from that side."

"It's a long shot," responded the red-eyed penguin, rubbing his beak thoughtfully, "but it might be our only hope. However, there's also a chance that there are no obstructions in the tunnel and the other three of us could just swim out that way as well. The penguin who went could sort of scout ahead."

"Valid point," said Manfredi.

"But who should go?"

Johnson held the rebreather up to Edgar and told him, "you should go. You'd know what to do when you got out of here best."

Surprisingly, Edgar pushed the rebreather away from himself. "This is a tricky situation. That rebreather is damaged already, and there is no telling how long it will function. We need to increase our chances that the penguin who goes will escape as much as possible, or we'll loose all hope of escaping entirely. Therefore, I believe that Manfredi would agree that we are far too large to attempt to swim through the tunnel, in case it has caved in."

"Johnson was always the fastest swimmer on my team," agreed Manfredi, nodding his head towards Edgar. He knew that Johnson wouldn't let them down.

"Me?" said the smaller bird, surprised. "You really want me to try?"

"You've proven yourself to me by finding these in the first place," answered Edgar. "and It seems like we all agree. Right, Caspian?"

Edgar turned towards the direction of the ex-Sargent, but he was no longer standing with the group. Manfredi saw him cranking on the door, trying to see if it would open. It was to no avail, though, and he stumbled away from it, holding his beak from the smell. Manfredi knew he didn't trust Johnson in the slightest, or the others for that matter. The large penguin didn't care, though, and knew Johnson wouldn't give up until the job was completed. That was how Johnson was.

"His opinion doesn't hold much weight anyway," said Edgar, waving his flipper in the direction of the lone penguin.

"Are you ready to go, Johnson?" asked Manfredi, clapping the younger penguin on the back. He looked worriedly at the hole in the ground.

"Better to go now while we still have some oxygen left," affirmed Edgar, giving the smaller bird an encouraging shake.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's do this," said Johnson, clutching his flippers into fists. He handed his journal back to Manfredi and then began putting the rebreather back over his beak.

"Good luck, buddy," encouraged Manfredi. He could see in Johnson's eyes the slightest hint of fear, but knew the penguin was determined. "We're counting on you."

Johnson nodded, and when the mask was tight on his beak, jumped into the water with a plunk. Manfredi watched the glow from his glow stick disappear slowly in much the same way it had into the armory.

"We shouldn't relax while he's working," said Edgar suddenly. "We might be able to increase the time we've got in here if we can stop that flow of natural gas.

"How do suggest doing that?" asked Manfredi, looking in the direction of the smashed pipe.

"Well, normally I'd try to close the pipe up by bending it and weld it shut, but even if we had welding equipment, trying that would result in a massive explosion."

"Wait, what?" interrupted Manfredi, looking startled. "You never said anything about an explosion."

"Of course. Natural gas is highly flammable and this entire place will be up in flames if even the smallest amount of fire is introduced into this environment."

"You have got to be kidding me," said Manfredi, slapping his head. "So can't we just bash it shut, then?"
"Not a good idea. That might cause sparks, and though its unlikely, those could also ignite the gas."

"So what do you suggest?"

Edgar picked up a roll of medical tape from the first-aid kit and stretched out a length of it. "There's not a whole lot here, and it won't be completely air tight, but it's all we've got," he explained.

Manfredi picked up the other roll and the two proceeded to the pipe. The closer they got, the stronger the smell became. Manfredi covered his nostrils with his flippers, but his eyes still burned. He tried his best to ignore it as they began taping up the pipe. He and Edgar were too busy working on the pipe to notice the sound of water splashing behind them.

Without warning, a high pitched scream cut through the thick air of the bunker. Manfredi immediately spun around from the pipe and saw Johnson and Caspian standing near the opening to the water-filled hole. Manfredi watched as Caspian stepped back from Johnson, pulling a blood soaked dagger out of his chest. Manfredi recognized it instantly as the bent knife that he had found earlier.

Johnson fell to his knees, mouthed something to Sarge, and then fell forward onto his stomach. Manfredi's muscles tensed as he watched Sarge drive the dagger down into the feathered figure again. He wanted to run with all of might, but he was frozen to the ground with shock. Edgar was not under the same effect, however, and bolted out to the middle of the bunker. Manfredi found control of his legs again and followed after the red-eyed penguin just in time to see Sarge drive the knife down one more time.

Manfredi watched the blood drip off the tip of the dagger as Sarge dropped it. It bounced off of Johnson's quivering form before resting on the ground near him. Fishslader looked up at the two charging penguins, smiling manically. Manfredi's eyes were already beginning to tear up, but he was determined to drive his fist directly through that penguin's skull.

Unfortunately, Sarge grabbed the rebreather from Johnson's limp flipper and slid it over his beak. He then grabbed the glowstick and, emitting a muffled laugh, jumped into the water before either penguin could reach him.

"Caspian, you traitorous coward!" cried Edgar, hopping into the water after him. Manfredi didn't care, though, and ran up to Johnson.

He fell to his knees upon approaching the penguin, dropping the journal he didn't realize he was still holding. He rolled the small penguin over and scooped him up into his flippers. Johnson's eyes were wide with shock, his breaths were coming choppily, and his body was convulsing. His blood was already beginning to soak his feathers a dark red. Manfredi pressed the younger penguin into his chest, rubbing some of the scarlet liquid onto his own plumage He didn't care, though. The blood wasn't real. Johnson wasn't stabbed. He wasn't.

"Man... Manfredi," stuttered Johnson, "I... I f-failed.."

The large penguin could see the small penguin's eyes welling up with tears, though he knew it wasn't from pain. He couldn't stop his own tear ducts and salty water began to slide down the sides of his face.

"No you didn't," offered Manfredi, unsure of what else to say.

"I c-came back... b-because I was t-too scared to keep g-going," choked the dieing penguin, "I... I d-didn't think I cou... could make it... I f-failed..."

"Stop saying that!" cried the larger bird, his voice quivering. "You didn't fail!"

"C-casp... pian was w-waiting for me w-when I... s-surfaced," continued the penguin, his breaths coming rough and choppily. "I d-didn't... g-give him... the rebre-breather."

Manfredi felt his flippers get warm and slippery, knowing Johnson's blood was soaking into his feathers. He still didn't care. Johnson was going to be just fine. The young penguin was all Manfredi had left. He wouldn't die. He just wouldn't.

"Caspian is gone now," said Manfredi weakly. "Don't worry about it. We'll get you patched up, and everything is going to be fine."

There was a splash behind Manfredi and shortly after a dripping wet Edgar knelt next to him, eyeing the bird's wounds with fear in his eyes.

"Caspian got away from me," he informed Manfredi regretfully before rushing over to grab what was left of the bandages and medical tape.

"M-Manfredi," coughed the small bird, "y-you're going to die, too."

"What?" returned the larger bird, confused. "Nobody is dieing today."

"T-there's a... a bomb... be-behind that rock," wheezed the penguin. He lifted his shaky flipper towards a pile of broken concrete not far from Manfredi.

"A bomb? There are no bombs here!"

"L-listen to me!" cried Johnson suddenly, grabbing Manfredi's by the feathers and pulling his face closer. "S-Sarge s-showed me... me the bomb... find cover..."

Manfredi felt the small penguin's grip weaken on his scruff and watched his flippers fall limp. The penguin's eyes were no longer filled with shock, but were now empty. Some blood trickled out of the side of his beak, and the only sound he emitted was a low gargling noise. Manfredi couldn't tear his eyes away from the small penguin.

Sarge had done it. He had taken the last thing that Manfredi had ever held close. Destroyed it without regret. Manfredi set the penguin down gently, resting his head on the cold concrete. He stood up as Edgar arrived with the few medical supplies that were left. The tall penguin said something to him, but he didn't hear it. His muscles were tightened, and his face was locked on the pool of water. His beak was clenched tightly shut, and his tear-filled eyes were gleaming in the dim light.

Manfredi wanted to go back in time. He wanted to shove that backstabbing villain out of the bunker and let him get vaporized in the explosion. He wanted to open the door afterwords and stomp on his ashes. He had nothing left, and he wanted nothing more to end that godforsaken bird's life.

Manfredi took a few steps away from his deceased teammate, rubbing the tears out of his eyes with a blood-coated flipper. Johnson's blood dripped from the white feathers on his chest, but again, he didn't notice it. He just couldn't bare to look at his brother's dead body any longer. He waddled over to the pile of rubble that Johnson was talking about and looked behind it.

The penguin found a strange looking stone and lifted it, wanting to whip it at the wall, hoping it would take away some of his grief. He found it peculiar that this rock was entirely round, smooth, and icy cold to the touch. Upon closer examination, he realized Johnson was right.

In his flipper he held a grenade, and the ignition pin was missing.

He whipped the death ball as far away from himself as possible, remembering what the scientist had said about the natural gas in the room. "Edgar!" he cried, now running at the black-beaked penguin, "Get back in the water. Now!"

"Why? I can save him, I just need time!" shouted Edgar, desperately attempting to mop up Johnson's blood with the bandages. It was no use, though. Manfredi knew the penguin was already departed.

"Move!" Manfredi screamed as he flung himself at the red-eyed penguin, knocking him off balance and he stumbled into the water with a plunk. Manfredi then launched himself forward, landing on top of Johnson's unmoving form, shielding his face from the blast he knew was about to come.

The flash and the heat came before the ear-shattering sound. He covered his eyes from the blinding light, but was still blinded. The fire spread through the room almost as quickly as the light, engulfing everything in it's path, including Manfredi. He felt his feathers get singed off. The shock wave rocked his form next, sending tremors through the ground that traveled through him. His ears were already ringing from the excruciating pain before the sound of the explosion even reached him. He attempted to lift his right flipper, and then noticed it was now completely missing.

He hardly had time to experience the pain he was feeling. The explosion left as soon as it had arrived, and Manfredi felt himself leaving consciousness immediately. The last thing he saw was Edgar pulling himself out of the water before he completely blacked out from shock.

As if it was only a few moments later, his eyes snapped open. He was looking up at a bright light, laying on a hard table. He slowly regained feeling of all of his limbs. He had no idea where he was or what had happened. He felt disorientated and dizzy. The light began spinning around, making him feel nauseous. He curled up into a ball on the table, clutching his stomach, wanting it to stop. He rolled off the table and felt sharp pains as he contacted the concrete below him. Pain. Suddenly, everything came flooding back to him.

"Johnson!" he cried weakly, then coughed as his throat was scratchy. He tried to get a hold of his bearings, but found himself unable to get the room to stop spinning. "Johnson, where are you?" he cried again.

"Johnson didn't make it," came a calm voice from above him. "Sorry to say." Manfredi opened his eyes to see a friendly face. His feathers were matted and ruined and he looked like he was coated in an inch thick layer of dirt, but it was definitely Edgar. "You're lucky enough as it is."

The penguin closed his eyes again as Edgar's face began spinning. He tried to lift his flippers to rub his eyes, but only felt as though he was able to move his left flipper. He suddenly remembered the image of his right flipper completely severed, and felt an immense pain shoot through it.

"Try not to move to much," offered Edgar, "you've been out for about two weeks now. You're going to be weak. And technically, this the first test run of your new components"

New components? What was he talking about? Manfredi rolled himself over and attempted to push himself up onto his flippers. He grunted with the exertion, but was glad there was minimal pain involved. He stopped immediately upon noticing that his right flipper, which he presumed had been blown off, was now metallic.

He fell to the ground again, using his good flipper to inspect the new, metal flipper. He ran the tip of the organic flipper up the cold metal, following it all the way to his body. The metal plating continued over his head, and down his body for a while. He rimmed a new, mechanical eye.

"What did you do to me?" he asked, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

"Saved your life," shrugged Edgar. He proceeded to help the robotic-penguin to sit up against the side of the table. Manfredi did not figure it was a good idea to attempt to stand this early on.

"I see that," he nodded, toying with his robotic flipper, "and thanks. But how? What have I become?"

"It wasn't easy," began the Scientist. "That explosion was pretty powerful. You were pretty messed up, but fortunately for you, you had been shielded from most of the fire. What damage you did have was mostly along your right side, and of course your flipper was missing. Other then that your lacerations had already been cauterized by the heat and there was no risk of you bleeding out or getting infection.

"What I was mainly concerned about was your lungs. The intense heat that enveloped the air around you had also entered your lungs, so they were scorched from the inside out. I knew that you only had about an hour left if I didn't get oxygen to your brain, so that was my first priority."

The red-eyed penguin walked over to a bench and grabbed three rubber penguin-beak shaped masks from it, tossing them to Manfredi. Manfredi recognized them as the rebreathers, and also noticed that the round filters were missing from all three.

"They were mostly useless, but I managed to salvage enough parts between the three of them to implement a similar system into your lungs. Instead of filtering oxygen out of water, though, whats inside you has its own oxygen supply. It is limited, but for what its worth, can last quite some time. It'll recharge now that you've started breathing on your own again."

"So you're saying that I don't need to breath anymore?" asked Manfredi.

"Not exactly. It got you through two weeks in a coma, but I'd say you wouldn't have much time in the event you were actually exerting yourself."

"What about my flipper?"

"That was the next step. Fortunately for you, the explosion blew the hole to the armory wider, so I was able to drag you in here. There were enough components and parts laying around that I was able to construct an entirely new flipper for you.

"I've designed robotic parts like this for penguin amputees in the past, but never had I tried to hook it directly up to the nervous system. It was a long shot, but it seems to have paid off. You should have all the functionality that you'd normally find in your flipper, except your sense of touch."

Manfredi lifted his arm, noticing the tiny sounds of motors turning on and off inside of it. He wondered if they were prone to malfunction.

"So I am a robot now?"

"Part robot. More of a cyborg if you think about it."

Manfredi nodded. He wished he had a mirror to better inspect how he looked now. "Why do this for me?" he asked.

"I couldn't let a good life to go waste. Caspian is a murdering traitor, and couldn't let him kill another innocent penguin. I regret ever agreeing to help him, ever spending two years building up this base for him to attempt to concur the world from. I wasn't there in Antarctica, but I heard what went down in your home city. Sarge didn't spare anyone. He needs to be stopped, and there's nobody better to do it than you."

"He killed Johnson, too," added Manfredi.

"Very true. And very nearly you and me. You know, I thought that me and him were good friends once, not unlike you and Johnson. He's completely forgotten about me, though, to the point where he wanted to burn me from his memory, both literally and figuratively."

Manfredi nodded slowly. He stretched his flippers and legs, and then tried to stand. He was shaky at first, but found it easier than he was expecting. He briefly used the table to support himself, but then stood entirely on his own.

"Are we still trapped in here?" he asked.

"No. While I was waiting for you to awake from your coma, I was able to use a few controlled explosions to blow the hatch door open again. Thank goodness there is no more gas in here, because I think that was our only way out. Come to think about it, the only explosives were in here to begin with. I have no idea where Caspain got that grenade."

Manfredi was unsure as well, but he knew Sarge was devious. He wouldn't have doubted if the penguin had stashed it in the bunker from the very day of its completion, knowing he might need it some day.

"So what now?" asked Manfredi. He glanced through the blown-open wall and out the hatch that was across the fish freezer.

"We might as well go our separate ways," sighed Edgar.

"What? Why?"

"You've healed enough that you will be able to go after Fishslader. That is what you want to do, right?" Manfredi nodded. "I've got something else in mind. I didn't notice it until today, but the sun went down for the first time during the two weeks we were in here. I'm assuming that your friend Skipper finally made his way to Antarctica and returned the Sun. I'd like to investigate it more. We were using the Sun to generate electricity, but it seems as if the entire planet stopped rotating while it was missing."

Manfredi was confused momentarily, but nodded understandingly anyway. He, too had no idea what that artifact was capable of, and knew that it could hold great secrets. He also knew Edgar would not abuse it again, after seeing the power that resulted from it once. Finally, the only thing on his mind right was Sarge. He wanted to start hunting that coward as soon as possible.

"So I guess this is goodbye," said Edgar. He picked some things up off of the bench and handed them to Manfredi. One item was Johnson's journal, now blackened with soot. The other was the crooked dagger, its handle wrapped in blue cloth.

Manfredi looked at the two items. He clutched the dagger tightly in his flipper. The wooden handle hugged his feathers. He knew he would use it to kill Sarge. There was no more fitting death for him than to be killed by his own weapon.

The journal, however, he handed back to Edgar.

"You hold onto this," he said. At Edgar's confused look, he said, "read Johnson's notes. Maybe they will contain some helpful information about Sun. Maybe you'll learn more about who he was, and who we were. All I know is that I will let my memories of him remain as they are. Besides, I was never taught to read."

Edgar nodded, holding the journal closely. "Good luck finding Sarge," he offered.

"Good luck with the Sun," returned the robotic-penguin. "And thank you... for everything."

As Manfredi waddled out of the ruined base, he noticed a recently disturbed mound of dirt. At the head of the mound was a wooden plank, and inscribed in it were a few things Manfredi was unsure of. He did recognize one word, however.

Johnson.

The robot penguin inhaled the fresh air, a welcome smell compared to the stuffiness of the bunker. In his head he replayed Sarge driving the knife down into Johnson, and he gripped its handle tighter. He did not know where the penguin was, or where to even begin looking, but the world was only so big. Distances would only keep them apart for so long. And when he found that heartless bastard, he was going to make him pay.

Manfredi ran his tongue over his beak, wondering what Sarge's screams of pain would sound like as he drove the blade through his heart.

The vision flickered out one last time, and Manfredi came back to reality. The three penguins were still standing near him. Skipper had his flippers crossed, brow arched. He looked determined, yet Manfredi could notice the slightest hint of sadness in his expression.

Rico sniffled, wiping a tear out of his eye. Though he had obviously been near crying, he looked noticeably angry. Manfredi wondered why he was so worked up when he had never met Edgar or Johnson before. Maybe the sight of innocent life being taken unfairly upset the penguin.

Private, on the other hand, seemed to be cowering slightly. Manfredi noticed a distinct look of fear on his scarred face. The small bird seemed to be terrified of death, and the sight of Johnson's life being taken by Sarge had probably stunned him. Manfredi turned his attention back to Skipper.

"Now you understand my plight," he said.

"Your plight?" returned Skipper. "Johnson was my brother too, don't forget. This is my fight too."

"And mine!" wheezed Rico.

Private didn't say anything.

Manfredi nodded to the other penguins, lifting himself onto his feet. He noticed he was off balance for a while, just like he had been upon first waking up after his transformation.

"What ever happened to Edgar?" asked Skipper.

"That was the last I ever saw of him," answered the cyborg. "I assume I will see him again some day, but I am not sure when."

"Sarge kaboom!" cried Rico suddenly, waving his flippers around. Manfredi noticed a smile out of Skipper at the action.

"Don't worry, we'll get our shot at Sarge soon enough," he said.

"So long as I get to see the life leave his eyes, I will be fulfilled," Manfredi affirmed.

"Yeah..." whimpered Private, causing Skipper to shoot him a concerned look. "Yeah!" he said again, more enthusiastically.

"Not long until we reach Antarctica now, boys," announced Skipper, jumping back onto the driver's seat. "Then we'll get our chance."

~Author's Note: Wow! That was so much fun to write! I hope you enjoyed these three flashbacks as much as I did! This chapter is also the absolutely longest one yet (surprisingly longer than chapter 28) I hope it wasn't too long.

On a side note, this chapter brings the word count for this story over 100,000 words. I always say a story can't be judged by its length, but I feel like reaching 100,000 words is a real accomplishment. I look back at this milestone with pride in my heart. (I believe this is the 8th or 9th PoM FF to reach 100,000 words.)

Finally, I'd just like to thank some regular reviewers. You guys keep me going, and I really do appreciate your feedback! Big thanks to Fishy716, TheSkySpiritsTalentShow, hipturtle15, and Sarahbelle Saunders. You guys are the absolute best readers ever!

I'm going to be taking a small break from this story to plan out what happens in Antarctica. It won't be more than a week or two, but since this story is coming to its climax, I really want to ensure that its going to be good. Stay tuned!