Sorry about chapters appearing as code, and thanks for letting me know. ^^

Rolling over with a grunt, Scout pulled a rock out from underneath his side and attempted to resume sleeping. Minutes later, he began to consider why there had been a rock beneath him in the first place and why it was so freaking cold. He quickly sat up and wrapped his arms around himself, drinking in his surroundings.

It was nighttime – and somehow he had ended up outside. In the middle of nowhere. Well, it wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened, but the kid couldn't force himself to stay calm. Had he been kidnapped and dumped out in the middle some craggy valley? If that was the case, then where was Sniper?

The grey cliffs either side of him were so tall that they just seemed to engulf him. Enormous rocks cast their eerie shadows along the floor of the narrow, winding valley. Every so often, these rocks would break away from the walls of the cliffs and come cascading down to smash on the hard ground below. Alarmed, Scout quickly looked upwards to make sure he wasn't in direct line of the crumbling stones, then darted out into the centre of the valley regardless, covering his head with his hands.

A crack of thunder overhead. The skies were a dismal grey, and the dark clouds were in the strangest formation Scout had ever seen. They were spiralling away from a central point like water slowly swirling down a drain, only backwards, and between the cracks … light? But the moon was there, too, always in sight as if it was within the Earth's atmosphere. Was this some kind of messed up nightmare? Were giant bugs going to come crawling out of the ground to devour him? Was he going to wake up drenched in sweat and hoping like hell that somebody else was going to be there to reassure him?

Was it not a nightmare at all, but … something else? The bizarre nature of the environment seemed all too familiar. In which case …

All of a sudden, a cascade of pink petals brushed past his face, driven by the wind. They provided the only colour in this strange place, so it was easy to focus on them as they swirled and soared down the valley. Knowing that the smallest things could be important in a place like this, Scout immediately turned and followed them. He entered a sprint and sped along the ground, leaping over falling boulders and the creepy, stone formations he came across every so often. The sound of his feet slamming against rock echoed between the walls. Aside from the occasional crack of thunder, his own feet and breath was all that he could hear.

Eventually, once his pace had slowed and his breathing was laboured, he came across a small pool of dark water set amongst jagged stones. The pink petals had since landed in the water and were floating innocently on its cool surface, jarring the perfect reflection of the moon every so often. Within the centre of the pool was a pretty pink flower, growing there all on its own, the lonely sway of its head inspiring a strange feeling of sadness within Scout.

"It ain't gonna be like this forever, kid," came a familiar voice.

Scout quickly turned and was relieved to see Sniper approaching out of nowhere. His first instinct was to question it, but why? He already knew the answer. The imaginary world of the Deus ex Machina chose when it made sense. Most of the time, it didn't seem to enjoy making sense at all.

"What?" he questioned.

"That flower is a lotus," Sniper responded, apparently ignoring him. "They grow in Queensland. This place – I came here when I was a kid, but now it just looks like it's had all the life sucked right out of it. Anyways, I was on some stupid field trip to Brisbane when I was nine and I ended up down here. I got a broken leg and wrist and I was just stuck."

"Jeez," Scout replied, eyes wide with surprise.

"I didn't even bother callin' for help. I didn't want to. Thought it was better if I was just stuck here until the heat got me, or a snake or spider." The assassin moved to stand by the edge of the pool before lowering himself down onto the balls of his feet. "I found this single lotus here. Not sure why, but it seemed significant at the time 'cause it was there all alone but it was still ... well, alive. My mum once told me a lotus plant can live for hundreds of years. Maybe this one had been alone all that time, but it was still there and flourishin'."

It was getting so cold by that point that Scout could see his breath. All he was wearing was a T-shirt, and the chill bit at his bare skin, forcing him to tightly wrap his arms around himself and huddle down next to his friend. He'd expected the Australian, of all people, to have his mind manifested by a place of extreme heat, though while it seemed this place was on the outskirts of the Outback, it was like sitting in a freezer room. His teeth noisily chattering, Scout reached out and gripped Sniper's forearm, expecting warmth, but found it oddly cool and clammy to the touch.

"I realised I was better off on me own. Never tried to make friends in school, so I never learnt how to really connect with people. Me parents were all I had. Didn't ever have a proper partner, either, just ended up foolin' around with people whose names I didn't know, and that was once in a blue moon, right? 'Cause even when I was grown up, people looked at me like I was some kinda alien. At some point, I just stopped carin'. Never did gain a true sense of empathy. I guess that's why assassinatin' wankers came so easy."

"All right. So that's why ya s-such an a-asshole," the boy managed, offering a smirk that would be coy in nature if his mouth wasn't shaking. Sniper grunted in response, the corner of his lips curling in faint amusement.

"Sure. My dad always wanted me to be a doctor. Can you imagine it?" he scoffed. "Could've done it, I was a smart enough kid, believe it or not. Ditched any academic prospects 'cause there was no way I was gonna be helpin' the drongos who made my life a misery. Nah, I'd be shootin' their brains out the back of their heads when I got paid enough. Now that was much more satisfyin'. I spent my life in the bush, just … waitin'. Waitin' for my targets to come along and, yeah, somethin' else, I 'spose."

Scout subconsciously moved a hand to the stitched wound on his side that Sniper had expertly mended – only to find that it was no longer there. For now, leastways, but it still served to remind him how different things could have been, and not necessarily in a good way. Had the two of them – no, all of the mercs – experienced a different upbringing, different circumstances, then there was every chance that they never would have met. There was no goodness in the fact many of them had suffered due to the fact they had just never fit in, but at least something good had come from it.

"You gonna stop pesterin' me about tellin' you my life story, now?" Sniper asked, interrupting Scout's train of thought.

"Dude, I'm d-damn sure there's a lot more ya could be tellin' me," the boy responded with a toothy grin. "But, yeah, I mean … I'm glad ya started there, 'cause maybe we're more alike than I thought."

Maybe he was just imagining it, but he was almost certain that the bitter cold had alleviated a little bit, enough that his fingers didn't feel like they were about to drop off. The man next to him made a low sound of acknowledgement.

"In some ways. Not so much in others, but that's the thing, ain't it? My dad always said that a good pair are like two sides of the same coin. Well, I thought it a load of namby-pamby at first, especially as he told me I'd never find the other side to mine, so to speak, but maybe I was one of the lucky ones." Sniper rolled his eyes slightly and rubbed the back of his neck, likely growing uncomfortable with the discussion by that point. "Look, in my opinion, the relationship between a Scout and a Sniper on the battlefield is more important then people give it credit for. 'Specially durin' the start of a round. At first, I didn't like havin' to start thinkin' about you load of lunatics as well as me own job, but it wasn't so bad."

It was true. Scout was always the first to reach the objective, so the only one who could defend him was an expert in ranged combat so long as Sniper could get himself into a decent position on time. In addition, a Scout didn't have much time to evaluate the match, too busy harassing the opposing team and pushing the cart or capturing control points, whereas the Snipers could see nearly everything, and it was their job to take out the best targets before their teammates could get themselves killed.

He felt a pang upon thinking about team RED. He really missed those guys.

"Hey, yeah, that's a cool thought," Scout agreed, though somewhat despondently. He shifted slightly, then continued: "So, uh, the other guys are really workin' for the Administrator?"

"Like I said before, some of 'em are. As for the rest, I wasn't sure. Plus … I couldn't warn 'em, just like I can't tell you what she's up to. It looks like I just cocked up and ran away like a wimp but it wasn't like that. I know for a fact she wouldn't kill any of ya, but still." Looking relieved at the subject change, Sniper sighed and scratched at the stubble on his jaw for a moment. "Gremlin, regardless of their loyalty, they don't think any less of you. Remember that. You're our Scout, and ya were kinda the glue that held us blokes together."

The reassurance cheered Scout up almost immediately. Again – and he was pretty sure it wasn't his imagination, this time – the bitter cold suddenly didn't seem quite so bitter. In fact, there was a kind of warmth to his surroundings now, like he'd just sat next to a cosy campfire that was banishing this strange winter away. He unfolded his arms and leaned forwards to inspect the dark water of the pool more closely in a moment of thought.

At first, he saw his own reflection. There were bags under his eyes and his face was skinnier, and his dark-blonde hair was grown out and sticking up in all directions. Just past his mirror image, he saw something white glint within the shadowy depths, and then it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Dude, there's somethin' down there," he remarked, lowering his face to try and get a closer look. Before he could stick a hand into the water, he found himself being pulled back by the waistband of his jeans.

"You know how it works, kiddo. Stay around too long and you'll find somethin' you won't like. I don't think it's gonna be giant bugs, this time."

A chill shot down Scout's back and he immediately scrambled to his feet, backing away from the water as if it was infected by something. For all he knew, it could have been, or there was something alive down there. For the moment, however, that ceased to be his primary concern, for when Sniper stood up to look at him, something rose up from the ground with him.

"Why are we in here?" the boy asked shakily, staring at the two shadows that had sprouted up behind the assassin. One short, one tall, both with glowing eyes that felt like they were peering into his soul.

"Can't remember. I guess that's why they said not to enter the system twice. The first time, ya've got no idea what the hell's goin' on. The second, you recognise that you're inside it, ya just can't remember how. Then ya panic, 'cause maybe somethin' happened and you're in a fight for ya life." Sniper's fists slowly tightened into balls, and the look on his face suggested that he could feel the presence behind him. "Maybe I just wanted everythin' out on the table. Almost everythin', anyway. You're the only bloke I'd let in here to go pokin' around. Maybe ..." He tensed, for the shadows had both slid hands onto his shoulders in a manner that was either threatening or … supportive, oddly. "Maybe there was something I needed to tell you."

Terror-struck, Scout could only watch as more of the things rose from the dust beneath their feet. They were translucent, like ghosts, but there was nothing definable about them other than that they resembled the shapes of people. There were no faces, no voices, just a dark and looming presence that chilled the boy to the very core. Something they all shared in were the holes in their heads that bled shadows – except for the first two that had appeared. They had holes in their hearts.

Memento mori.

Without thinking, he lunged forwards, seized Sniper by the arm and attempted to pull him away from the rapidly growing army of things. He managed it for a little way, but the assassin wrenched his arm from his grip and turned to face the perceived threat.

"Dude, we've gotta go! C'mon!" Scout insisted, beginning to panic. Once again, he grabbed his friend's arm and began tugging him along the valley floor. "No 'ffence, but your mind is the worst thing I have ever seen."

Much to Scout's annoyance, Sniper stopped again and turned back as if fascinated by what was watching them beside the pool.

"They're just people," the Australian murmured, irritatedly pulling his arm away from his companion again. "Not even that. Just memories."

"Yeah?" Scout pressed. "And memories can hurt ya, man! I've seen that before and I ain't gonna let it happen again."

He looked back at the wrong moment. A bone-white arm had found it's way out of the black pool and was scratching at the rocky surface beyond, trying to find leverage to pull itself up. More followed where that came from. The monsters crawled out of the water, and Scout was alarmed to see that there were eight in all. Worse; each of them resembled their former team-mates, and one even looked like him, only way more gross and dead-looking, like zombies but worse because they didn't move slowly and there was still a kind of sentience in their shrivelled eyes. They'd been trapped under that water for a long time, and hell were they mad about it.

"Er -" Sniper managed, quickly shoving Scout in the opposite direction. "Now we run."

The kid didn't need telling twice. There were no weapons programmed into the system, this time, so what else could they do? He ran, though knew better than to just sprint off at full speed because there wasn't a soul alive who could keep up with him. Instead, he maintained a pace somewhere behind Sniper, letting the Australian lead the way because he had been to this place before. All the while, they were pursued by the eight zombie-mercs, who apparently had a frightening tendency to run on all fours and make noises like dying animals.

Scout could almost hear their sharp teeth gnashing. Despite the fact he would emerge alive if killed within the system, this time, his heart was still pounding in absolute fear and he refused to look around at the creatures again, because he knew that they were steadily growing closer as the seconds flew by.

All of a sudden, there came a thunderous sound that blasted across the sky, a terrible, mechanical groaning that didn't sound like anything natural. With a pained yelp, Scout covered his ears, but then the entire image of the world around them became horribly distorted. It was like when he turned the TV on but all he got was fuzz and the silent picture of the programme whirling about. It was enough to completely throw off his sense of balance and he went crashing to the ground, seeing stars and colours all blending in together.

Within moments, it was over, and he was flooded with a sense of panic. Finding himself flat on his stomach, he looked around and saw that the zombie-mercs had been similarly affected by whatever the hell that disturbance had been and were attempting to claw their way out of the tangle they had gotten themselves into. It provided a decent enough opportunity for him to leap back into action, grab a now prone Sniper, and heave him back into business.

"What the hell was that?!" Scout yelled, casting his gaze to the sky, worried that something monstrous was going to come falling out of it. Sniper shook his head in response.

"Doesn't matter. C'mon, there's a slope up there," the assassin barked, pointing up to the side of the cliff. Pulling the boy over, he then clambered up to the protrusion and hoisted himself onto the flat ledge with a grunt. "It's time for Operation: Toss Gremlin. Get your bony backside up here!"

Scout obediently jumped up and grabbed the sloped ledge, using his feet to push himself upwards. Meanwhile, Sniper was moving to the highest point of the protrusion. He turned and opened his palms, lacing his fingers together to form a small platform for the boy to use as leverage to exit the valley walls. It was a neat throwback to the old days, back when they were team-mates and Scout would get the tallest person available to quickly vault him towards high-up places.

Despite himself, the kid grinned and punched the air with his fist. "Yeah!"

"Enough of that. C'mon, let's make a go of it. One, two, three!"

Rolling upright, Scout darted forwards, leapt onto his friend's hands, and when he was pushed upwards, he quickly twisted his body and reached out for the edge of the cliff-face.

He missed.

At least his landing was soft.

Neither of them wasted any time. The monsters had since collected themselves and were speeding towards the valley wall. There, they scrabbled at the rocks, yowling and furiously attempting to clamber over each other. Sniper and Scout got back to their feet and assumed their positions again.

"Go!"

This would likely be their final chance. The howling of the rampant beasts below grew ever louder. Once again, Scout gave himself some space to run, then sprinted to his companion and allowed himself to be thrust upwards with enough force that for a moment he was entirely airborne. There! His fingers latched onto the edge of the cliff. With a strained yell, he rapidly sought purchase with his feet, and the wall was fortunately rough enough that he could press his toes into some cracks and push his body upwards. The grass above provided additional support, and soon he was flat on his stomach, looking down over the edge as Sniper attempted to climb up far enough to reach Scout's hand.

Sniper smirked up at him. "Now that's how it's done."

"Hurry up!" the younger man shouted back, helpless as the zombie-Medic scuttled onto the stone slope and grabbed Sniper's leg. The assassin turned and kicked the thing's rotting head with enough force that it simply came clean off, making a gross squelch as it impacted the ground.

Free from its hold, Sniper snarled and jumped from where he was clung to the cliff-face. Their hands met.

The sky began to flicker like a dying light bulb, soon to be filled yet again by that terrible roaring, grating sound, metallic in nature. Scout wrapped his free arm around his head to try and protect his ears from the deafening noise, his face pressed into the earth. The musty scent of grass and soil filled his nostrils – only to then vanish because what he could see of the environment was again fuzzing violently like the reception was being interrupted by a storm or electric appliance. Regardless, he dropped his other hand down, pulled Sniper up enough to grab his arm, then forced himself to shaking legs and yanked upwards with all his might.

He ended up flat on his ass before the Australian's greater weight ploughed into him and squashed him into the ground.

Everything stabilised. The horrible sound stopped, the world returned to what could be loosely defined as "normal".

Scout felt the weight on top of him shift as Sniper grunted and rolled off. The boy sat bolt upright, eyes wide, then scrambled to his feet to make sure the creepy zombie guys weren't about to come crawling over the side of the cliff. Upon inspecting the valley floor, it seemed that the things had simply inexplicably vanished, as if they had never really been there in the first place.

It wasn't like he could ask himself what the hell was going on by this point. A more relevant question would likely pertain as to why they had even decided to enter the system again when they were both fully aware of the dangers a single mind could contain. At least Scout's inner experience hadn't been overwhelmingly obvious – at least up until the giant, rampaging bugs, of course – whereas here, something was very wrong.

And it wasn't just the shadows and dead mercenaries and other secrets that lurked within the rocky crevices. It was the fact the system seemed to be malfunctioning.

Scout quickly turned to his friend, who was groggily pushing himself up off the ground and massaging his forehead with his fingertips.

"This is kinda like – hey, remember when we smoked a ton'a weed in ya van that time? This is kinda like that, but one-hundred percent worse. Dude, I ain't even gonna ask what issues ya've got."

"Well, keep it that way," the Australian responded with a sneer, glancing up at the younger man. "None of us have been devoured by hairy bugs or chased by death wizards just yet, whatever the case. Get away from the friggin' cliff before you fall."

After taking a quick step away from the edge of the chasm, Scout paused to take in their new surroundings. It was the Outback, all right, a desert that stretched as far as the eye could see, though it was far from being the alien plane dusted with red sand that he remembered. They'd flown over parts of it on their way to Adelaide, and he could recall being extremely grateful that Sniper had promised not to drag him through the death-trap of a terrain. He'd had enough of deserts, and he'd heard that just about any animal in Australia could kill a guy if it wanted to. Even the dopey looking kangaroos.

No, this place was tainted, somehow. Something about the darkness, the bitter chill, and the chaotic sky was almost apocalyptic in nature. It gave him the creeps, and he wanted out, but how the hell were they meant to wake themselves up?

"Why were me and the guys down there and why were we dead?" he pushed, waving a wild, panicked hand towards the valley below. "You got a fear of zombies or what? And why's it so -"

"Scout, piss off," Sniper warned, abruptly standing and moving forwards to jab a finger into the younger man's chest. "For your sake, I don't go thinkin' about all the nonsense I saw in your whacko little brain, and I don't really wanna think about what's in mine, either. Let's do somethin' useful and walk somewhere." With that, the assassin shoved his hands into his pockets and made off in a random direction.

Scout followed with a reluctant groan, having to jog slightly to keep up with Sniper's long strides.

"Ya made fun of me for like two weeks about the whole giant bug thing," he grumbled accusingly. He was met with an amused huff of laughter.

"Ah, yeah, well, I did get mauled to death by those things. I was within my rights with that one. It might've been within the system, but I still felt it, y'know?"

"Yeah," Scout muttered, reluctantly recalling the incident. His chest twinged painfully. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Kid, din't mean it."

"Nah, really. And, uh … for all the times I've argued with ya 'cause I was mad. And punched ya in the face. And shoved ya. I mean, you were right, y'know, when you said we're kinda the same but different, 'cause ya've got all the patience in the world and I got none."

Sniper slowed down and placed a hand on Scout's upper back, perhaps intending the contact to be encouraging.

"Mate, I've got less and you've got more than ya think. It's easy to make exceptions for certain people, though. In both regards."

Scout turned his gaze towards the ground. "Yeah." His foot anxiously scuffed the grass. "Kinda like – yeah, like family and stuff."

A brief, awkward silence fell between the pair. Daring a glance up at his friend, Scout was relieved to see him looking more contemplative than anything. He understood that Sniper definitely wasn't a 'family' kind of guy, and usually didn't have time for what he called emotionally-driven drivel, so he certainly didn't want to make him angry by making their friendship something that it wasn't.

"That's how ya see me?" Sniper eventually asked, his voice strangely flat.

"Well, yeah. Duh. Ya think I woulda done all this crap with some shmuck?" Feeling heat flush his cheeks, Scout proceeded to mumble, "Sometimes it was cool to just … I dunno. Pretend? Ah, jeez, that sounds so dumb. I don't mean it. Let's just go somewhere and figure out why the hell we're in here."

His face burning, he adopted a hunched posture and walked ahead of Sniper, thoroughly embarrassed by what he had admitted. The guy probably thought he was a right wuss, and he wouldn't blame him. Sniper had never asked to be seen in a certain light – in fact, it was likely the last thing he wanted – but he had unwittingly settled into that void in Scout's life. A small part of him had to have known he had done that. Right?

Feeling a thick, hairy arm carefully snake around his shoulders, the boy sniffed and allowed himself to be drawn into Sniper's side.

"Let's just worry about creepy brain-zombies for now, eh? But just one thing: never rely on someone else's validation. Especially not your dad's. You never really needed that wanker, didja? You and your mum – ya did just fine, and you're gonna continue to do fine. If you don't let some arsehole's absence cast a shadow over what you've got, then, well ..." the Australian gestured loosely to their cold, bleak surroundings, "someone like you's not gonna end up like this. Ya gonna do great. Doesn't matter where or who you came from. You'll be shootin' star."

"Jeez, way to be sentimental, dustbag," Scout offered in an attempt to humour him, his voice somewhat strained. Though rendered all kinds of emotional by his friend's words, his attempt to dodge the turn things had taken was entirely purposeful – and successful, given the half-sneer on Sniper's face. The fact of the matter was, he knew he was going to get upset and then he was going to get mad and things would get ugly for the hundredth time. The dude being nice to him didn't help. He'd almost have preferred it if the Australian was the same churlish, uncharitable guy he had been when they'd first met.

Though even then, despite having known the kid for less than a minute and the road being littered with the shards of his broken windscreen, he'd still given him a ride. Sure, Scout had paid dearly for that, but their connection had been virtually instantaneous.

A connection that was being mercilessly cut away against their will.

"Fucking weed," Sniper grumbled, immediately shoving Scout away from him. "Ya know what? Killin' you would make this a lot quicker. Gets us both outta this nightmare. Or ..." he paused as a low, threatening rumble vibrated across the sky. "The bloody trumpets of the apocalypse or whatever that sound is – get a good look at what's past the distortion."

"Yeah? Ya said not to look too deeply into this place."

"You ain't lookin' in when that starts. You're lookin' out. I'm no Engineer, but either the machine's broken, or our brains are tryin' to wake us up."

Disturbed by both ideas, Scout didn't reply and instead stopped walking, turning his gaze up to the dark, spiralling clouds above. They trembled and shook as another low sound rumbled across them. Another break in the system was coming. He altered himself into a more steadfast position; legs apart, fists clenched, and eyes to the sky. There was no way he was letting himself get trapped in the machine again.

Sure enough, he was almost thrown backwards moments later when a sudden and unnatural wind forced him off his feet. Barely managing to steady himself, he clenched his eyes shut when that awful sound increased tenfold in volume, terrible enough that it was physically painful, but he kept his hands down by his sides. A mere sound couldn't hurt him, especially now that he could consider it wasn't necessarily a threat, but more of a warning.

He opened his eyes. He couldn't see. Pulses of static distorted his vision, just like before. However, this time, he didn't try to hide away from whatever was happening, instead choosing to peer into the darkness beyond and hope, perhaps in vain, that something was out there.

A sudden terror enveloped him, but it's cause was far from apparent. With his heart beginning to race, Scout gasped for breath and threw out his arms, needing something to hold onto. His hand impacted with something warm and hard. Sniper? His hand was roughly forced away by whatever it was. Then, through the distortion, he began to see silhouettes, their forms lit by an unknown source of light. Men he didn't know.

Get them back under!

There came a dull sensation in Scout's head, like he'd just been hit round his skull with something heavy. The image of their surroundings jarred heavily, and he heard a terrible cry of pain from somewhere nearby. It was what felt like minutes later that he was finally able to focus and see that everything had returned to normal again. Well, relatively normal, as they were still in the system, but like before, everything had convincingly stabilised.

Taking a shaky step forwards, the boy's legs immediately crumpled. He pushed himself up onto his knees and crawled towards the larger form of his friend, who had also toppled over at some point. Sniper was curled into a taut ball and clutching his head in his hands, strained breaths hissing through bared teeth.

"Dude?" Scout whimpered urgently, grabbing hold of Sniper's arm and giving it a shake. "There's people out there watchin' us. Did you see 'em? Snipes, I think we got caught. That Spy must've -"

"Get out," the assassin growled quietly, pained eyes turning in the boy's direction. "Quickly. Find a way out before they get you to the Administrator. Stop fucking dawdling and go!"

It was clear now that there was only one way out. Without stopping to think, Scout scrabbled to his feet and began to search for something that he could use. Something sharp, something hard, anything. All he could see, however, was grass and desert.

He turned to the chasm they had just come from. Back where they had started. Maybe running away hadn't been the right thing to do. Not this time.

Reluctantly abandoning Sniper but knowing it was the only way that he could help, he raced to the edge of the huge crack in the desert floor and peered down into it. From his vantage point, he could see the black pool set into the rocks a small distance away. There were no shadows, no zombies, but there were … ghosts. Or, at least, that was what they looked like, gathering along the top of the cliff. They seemed oblivious to Scout, and he too did his best to ignore them, but despite his hurry, he couldn't help but draw closer and try to gain a better understanding of the horrible occurrences happening in this place.

It was a group of about seven kids. They were Australian, no doubt, given their hulking forms and the bizarre appearance of having gone through puberty at nine years old. All save for one, the small and gangly dark-haired boy trapped between them all. His nose was bleeding and his knuckles were red raw, and tears built in his eyes as the other children jeered at him.

"Freakin' joey!"

"What're you, some kinda freak?"

"Ain't even Australian!"

"Mummy and daddy ain't here to save ya this time!"

The small kid lunged at one of the bigger ones, wildly punching and scratching, but he was quickly overwhelmed by the group. To give him his due, he managed to fight several of them off in his evident rage and upset, but the kids were getting closer and closer to the edge of the chasm.

"Say g'day to the crocs, Micky Mouse!"

Scout didn't know what to think when the small kid was pushed into the deep crag. None of it was real; the children looked like they were made of mist or some ethereal substance, but maybe it was something that had been real, once. He tried to numb himself to what he had just seen, but it was hard, because it reminded him of when he was a kid and he found it pained him to know that somebody else had gone through all that, too.

The young man lowered his feet over the side of the cliff and held onto the edge with his hands. He clung there for a moment, terrified of the pain that was coming, but in reality, being in the system was no different to being in the respawn. No matter what happened, he was going to come out of it okay.

He let go.

For a time, he was airborne. It felt like the wind was carrying him. Lotus petals caressed his cheeks. For a split second, he caught a glimpse of a child sat by the edge of the pool, wiping his own tears away. Within that short space of time, he was sure that the boy was making eye-contact with him.

It ain't gonna be like this forever, kid.

Rain. Why did it always have to be rain?!

Her moped wasn't exactly designed to be racing along the rain-slick roads of – well, the middle of nowhere – but there she was.

This time, however, Miss Pauling wasn't alone.

She quickly wiped the wet from her glasses and leaned forwards, eyes set on the black truck speeding along ahead of her. Really, she should have been in the truck and overseeing whatever was going on in there, but she had long since chosen her side, however reluctantly.

She had watched, horror-struck, as Scout and Sniper were dragged from their hotel in Japan. That Contender woman was amongst those responsible. The two men were unconscious and unable to fight back as they were hauled into the van and locked inside with a group of people in black and purple uniforms. There had been no time for her to do anything – not that she was supposed to have helped the mercenaries, whatever the case.

It was fortunate, then, that when she followed the private plane they boarded to China, most of team RED were there in the airport waiting for her.

It had been more than a favour she had asked of Demoman. It had been a request for help, because there was no way she could continue to try and get Scout and Sniper out of trouble on her own. He was one of the mercenaries that she trusted and she also trusted his judge of character, thus the mercs he had brought with him. She had already gone against the Administrator and – god she was going to be so mad – started ignoring her phone calls again. This really was mutiny and poor Miss Pauling was going to pay for it, possibly with her life, but even a woman as loyal as her could question whatever it was Helen was up to. At the very least, she knew it wasn't anything good.

Beside her on the road, Soldier, Demoman, Pyro, Heavy, and Spy were occupying a large red SUV and chasing the black truck ahead. Heavy was driving, Demoman was in the passenger seat, and Pyro and Spy were in the back. Soldier was desperately trying to force himself into the front but had only ended up getting himself wedged between the seats.

"I cannot see! Move out of the way, Euros!"

Miss Pauling drew closer to the SUV and raised a hand, wildly gesturing. Demoman poked his head out of the window and grinned.

"Now?!" he shouted, his single eye shimmering with excitement.

"Yes! Go!"

With a maniacal laugh, Demo vanished inside for a moment, then reappeared with his beloved stickybomb launcher. He leaned out (with Heavy holding onto the back of his jumpsuit), took aim, and fired several stickybombs onto the back of the truck.

Soldier burst out of the sunroof and held onto his helmet to keep it from being blown off his head as their vehicle sped up a little.

"Fiiiiiire!" he bellowed.

"Wait!" Miss Pauling yelled out, finding that her moped was falling behind. She reached out for the back of the SUV and pulled herself up onto it, allowing the moped to lose power and drop onto its side, abandoned in the middle of the road. She slipped on the metal and cried out, her heart jolting as she almost went flying off the back of the vehicle. Fortunately, Soldier had since lost interest in whatever was going on in front of him and was able to reach back and grab hold of the woman's arm.

"I like your style!" he commended, easily pulling her small form over and down into the sunroof. "Demo, I said fiiiiiiire! What are you waiting for?!"

The Scotsman pushed himself further out of the window, much to the annoyance of Heavy, who grunted irritably as he was yanked sideways.

"Fall back! If they brake, we're gonna go smashin' into their rear-end!" Demo advised.

"Fall back!" Soldier copied. "Also, that's what she said!"

Heavy grumbled something in Russian under his breath. Spy made a subtle sound of exasperation that was muffled because his face had been buried in the palm of his hand all the while.

When they were at a decent enough distance, Demoman triggered the stickybombs to explode. As expected, the driver of the truck braked, which caused it to swerve dangerously along the sopping road as it screeched to a halt, barely avoiding a hard impact with the side of a rocky hill. The back of the truck, now deformed and smoking, was kicked open from the inside.

Miss Pauling rapidly yanked her pistol from her purse and aimed it at whoever was emerging. To her surprise, however, there was no need to be cautious.

It was Scout. The boy seemed to be unsteady on his feet and rather unfocused. His face was splashed with blood, but thankfully, he didn't seem to be wounded, despite everything. With a brief glance in their direction, he then dived right back into the back of the truck and vanished.

Heavy had since stopped the SUV, enabling Miss Pauling to slide down the windscreen and to the ground. When the driver door to the truck banged open, she stopped and watched as a figure made their way down the metal steps.

A Contender. A Spy, by the looks of it, given her lithe form and twin katanas. Despite Pauling's curiosity, there was little other she could do but aim her pistol when the other woman began swinging her blades around threateningly, approaching her with a scowl. She was dead in a single shot. A shame, really, but Pauling had more important things on her mind, namely ensuring that all of her guys were okay.

Jogging to the back of the truck, she peered inside. Unconscious or dead bodies scattered the floor. To the far end, two mattresses had been positioned either side of a strange looking machine. A Deus ex Machina? Sniper was sprawled on one of them, and Scout was hurriedly trying to lift the heavier man over his shoulder with little success.

"Hey, Scout," Pauling greeted, keeping her tone soft as not to startle him. She was met with a terrified glance.

"P-Paulin'? What the hell's goin' on? Where are we?"

"China. You both got attacked. I followed you here, and ..." She paused, seeing the tears coating the young man's cheeks. Dread seeped into her belly. If something had happened, then she was partially to blame because of her reluctance to disobey the Administrator. "Scout, is he …?"

Quickly lifting herself into the back of the truck, she carefully trod around the bodies of the Administrator's goons and approached the two men. With a gentle hand did she encourage Scout to stop fussing and give her some room to inspect the prone assassin.

"He's alive. Don't worry," she said, managing to hide her uncertainty. Indeed, Sniper was still breathing, but his eyelids were flickering and he was coated in a cold sweat. Whatever had happened, whether in or out of the system, it had taken a lot out of him. "The guys have got some of Medic's pills."

Scout immediately perked up. "Medic's here?!"

"Well, no, but Heavy snagged some of his pills before they left. They may not heal him completely but they'll help keep him going for a bit longer, at least until we get our hands on some Medibeam."

With the help of Heavy and some of the others, Sniper was stuffed into the backseat of the SUV, resulting in everyone else being forced to cram in next to him or on the floor. Scout force-fed him some of the mentioned pills with evident relief.

Even Pauling thought the change in the young man was quite remarkable. There he was, tired and frightened but doing his very best to stay calm. Upon seeing his old friends, he had greeted them without all the excitement of an abandoned puppy, but like he had only seen them yesterday. In the grand scheme of things, there was no time to mess around, and they all knew it – perhaps Scout more than any of them. He made no attempt to regale them all with tales of his heroic feats and adventures since he had been away.

In fact, he didn't talk about himself at all. The boy sat quietly between Sniper and Pyro, clearly grateful, but he was unfocused and vacant. His mind was truly elsewhere, and no matter who tried to bring him out of it, all they received in turn was a short response and a brief look in their direction.

Despite herself, Pauling almost wished that the old Scout was back. Perhaps with time, both Scout and Sniper could put everything behind them and return to their usual selves.

Perhaps not.