A/N: Follow Kanda in his little adventure as he tries to connect admittedly confusing dots.

Thanks for the reviews!

Militares Sintéticos

Capítulo 16 – Aviso prévio

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

There it was, the fruit of his Akuma reprogramming technique. It was unprecedented and brought about possibilities unheard of. Quite an amazing skill, if he said so himself.

"But… how do I find him?"

A sigh.

One annoying fact about low leveled Akuma was that they were too dumb to properly follow orders. This one at least was a level two, and even then it was already giving him a headache. Were it a level one, Cross was sure he'd just give up and destroy the thing. Level ones were pathetic at imitating humans, and could think about nothing but killing in unintelligent ways.

"Not him. Them. Nea Campbell or Allen Walker. Who you find first doesn't matter, you know what you should say to each. I've even written it down for you just in case."

Cross would much rather go look for them by himself, but it would be too much of an inconvenience. Allen was just a tiresome, disagreeable little shit, no matter what his minions liked to say about him. And Nea, who was once an ally he would contact without a problem, had been growing very distrustful as of late.

And it was justified.

"Master Noah… yes, I can feel him," said the thing, twirling the cane in its fingers. It was a memento of the human whose body it inhabited now.

"Good, but unless he is wandering out of the cities, you won't have a chance of making contact. Look for Allen Walker instead. Exorcist, white hair, left hand Innocence," the Akuma trembled at the mention of the dangerous weapon, "but if you even think he is nearby you better start explaining things right away. He will know when you are close and if you don't clarify matters, he will try to kill you."

Allen would anyway, but it would be better if the Akuma managed to pass his message first.

"Follow my instructions. Chances are you will find him. Now go," said Cross, dismissing the Akuma. It transformed and flew towards the direction it was pointed to, towards the place the general believed Allen to be. Hopefully, this one wouldn't be destroyed. Should that happen, Cross would have to confront the kid himself.

Nea would have a fit when he discovered Allen was alive. The boy had been always present in the Noah's mind no matter how much he denied it. Cross would rather not be in the nobleman's presence when the truth became known – the musician, when made irrational, could do much more than play songs.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

"He is… he is going to kill me."

In Kanda's heart, there had been a short lived optimism. Likely pressed by the terror that had been too much for him to deal with by his lonesome, Allen had finally decided to say what the problem was. The crux of the matter seemed to be someone threatening his life, someone so relevant even the typically independent exorcist leader had been losing his mind.

It was believable: whoever the enigmatic pursuer was, he'd been the one to somehow attack Allen in the tent. Even now, Allen sported a new wound in the same hand. It all admittedly made little sense, but having a target brought him a measure of sanity. He would track this person and destroy him; a name and a description, that was all he needed. He would now have an enemy whose destruction would end Allen's grief.

"Who? Tell me. Who is it?"

He'd terminate this individual for making Allen, who had grown from a defenseless child to a strong adult, fall into this terrorized state.

"Allen Walker."

But that boy always had the power to crumble any of his plans by merely opening his mouth.

"…what do you mean?" Kanda asked when his words finally found their way out. "Are you suicidal?"

"I'm not," answered Allen simply, as if he wasn't contradicting his previous statement.

"Then what do you mean by saying you are going to kill yourself?" he demanded, but his voice came out weaker than he intended it to be. The draining troubles of the past days had taken their toll on the Japanese exorcist, forcing him into a tired state, and this unending enigma wasn't helping.

From the moment Allen awoke, he had been Kanda's guiding light. Now it felt like that light was in his hands but dimmed every day, and there was nothing he could do about that but watch.

"I don't want to die," said Allen, interrupting Kanda's dark musings. He rocked back and forth a little, still in his kneeling position. "But he is going to kill me, anyway."

"You are Allen Walker," Kanda felt the need to point out.

"I'm not."

Kanda shook his head in despondency. Everything now made him contemplate flashbacks from their time in the laboratory. He could still see it – Allen, his friend, the one who came to save him from the insanity that had been losing Alma. Yes, that thought made him very selfish, but that was what Allen had meant for him back then. But Allen had been too small and too different from Kanda's first friend, because the white haired boy was his own person.

One day, Allen started seeing lights in the dark, mysterious objects and phenomena in empty places. He would point to people that didn't exist when he was in solitude, describe things that shouldn't belong to this world. Kanda watched the little boy he'd wanted to protect becoming someone who lived in a different world only he could see, someone who interacted with things that didn't exist and said much nonsense, and Kanda had thought Allen demented due to grief.

And now, years later, it restarted: he was seeing the once normal Allen interact with invisible things, speak absurdities and live in his own dimension all over again. The suspicions about a mental disorder grew on Kanda once more, and it was even worse than in the laboratory. Back then, the visions had been temporarily taking Allen away from an horrible world. They couldn't hurt him, not down there in their cage of concrete and steel, where illusions had been preferable to reality.

But this wasn't the case here in the infamous outside, where they fought almost every day with their lives on the line. Allen wouldn't last long if he succumbed to whatever plagued his mind.

Why in the world was this happening? Back then, Allen had proven he'd been right all along, and that his visions were the remembrances of tangible reality; so what could be causing such occurrences, now? Allen had been doing well during all these years. What had been the circumstances that had destabilized his mind? Until now, he had proven himself to be just fine…

Kanda stared down at Allen, intense anger of the likes he hadn't felt in a while welling up inside of him like lava. "Every night you get to do it. To close your eyes and dive into your past, rebuilding yourself, recovering your history. That is what I want to do, also. I've always seen my past as something untouchable. Perhaps it is. But I want to try. Your memories used to appear without your consent… they were out of your control. Now, they are bent to your will. Surely you can help me with something, damn it!"

His hands clenched as he concentrated. Why was he remembering this particular argument? It had been after a mission of sorts, and Kanda had decided to do the same immersion and meditation Allen practiced, but the boy had been strangely evasive of his requests. To this day, that reluctance from Allen's part still made no sense. And Allen had said…

"Yes, I can. It is just… there are consequences, Yuu."

"Headaches, tiredness, and nausea, yes? You think I can't deal with these? You insult me!"

"There is more… ah, forget it."

More?

More what?

Allen had eventually acquiesced to his demands, he remembered, and that had been it. Kanda had gotten the help he wanted, and never again questioned Allen's odd behavior, letting it fade from his mind.

To now know the strange behavior of his friend's had started much before the incident in the tent worried Kanda, but also made him thirst for new puzzle pieces. Allen didn't want him to do the memory recovery meditation, expressed the worry that something bad could happen. Something dangerous…

"Does this have something to do with your memories?" he asked very slowly. Allen jumped. Bingo.

After that Allen remained silent, however, though now the fear seemed to have returned to his eyes, stronger than ever.

He pressed on. "I remember you didn't want to teach me how to retrieve my memories. Does your problem now have anything to do with that? Something to do with… Allen Walker," it was hard to acknowledge a third entity with the name Kanda knew belonged only to the person in front of him, but Kanda would humor the boy, "wanting to kill you?"

Allen's grey eyes widened more and more with each of his words, and Kanda's heart was beating fast with this new clue. He hated the idea of being right, but also wanted to get somewhere. This was his chance to unravel everything.

"Answer me."

Though unresponsive for a while, Allen's gaze never left his own, and then the boy deflated, face producing a weak but true smile. He leaned towards Kanda, his breath hot in the dark haired man's ear.

"You shouldn't explore the memories any more, Yuu. It's a mistake," he whispered as if saying a very crucial secret. "Be happy… with what you have now," he continued in that small, almost inaudible voice, "don't be like me. Don't look for more."

Kanda leaned back, holding Allen's face so close to his own they almost touched. He could see the small details of the boy's almost monochrome irises, framed by familiar white lashes, and the shivering that reverberated through his body. "What if I do. If I want more, if I want my memories, what happens?"

Allen's smile grew slowly, from small to large and then deranged, lips stretched and showing so many teeth but still managing not to display even a hint of happiness. Kanda felt the urge to jump far away, but held himself in place. "Then… Yuu kills you," Allen imparted, before his caricature of a grin dropped and he shook, features giving way to that terror once more. "D-don't let that happen, okay?" Allen pleaded, voice rising more with each word. "You still have time. Don't let that happen! Don't-"

Kanda was alarmed. "Allen!"

"I remember that discussion," cried Allen, tears welling in his eyes and leaking fast. "I warned you, b-but the warning should have served to me as well," he laughed loudly and brokenly. "I guess you are the older brother, Yuu, even though I called you otouto. I-I'm only a few years old. I don't have any idea of what I'm going to do, anymore," he said, eyes moving frantically and staring at everything but Kanda. "Will I even get to it? I'd like to-"

"Get a hold of yourself!" shouted Kanda, as seeing Allen like that had made his own body tremble and his own self become desperate, too.

Fear was indeed contagious.

"Don't let him k-kill you too, Yuu," Allen continued, undeterred by Kanda's outburst. "They want to live too, but it isn't fair. We aren't fake. W-we are people too, right?"

"What… care to explain?"

"He said it wouldn't hurt, but it does," confided Allen in a low voice, and though his eyes were directed to Kanda's, he could be as well staring at a faraway tree. "He broke my hand, and he said I'm going to be destroyed-"

Kanda embraced him, tight and uncaring of Allen's hands that were still placed between them both, clenched around the thing. Kanda embraced Allen because he wanted to silence his dooming words, and also because he just felt the need to.

Allen leaned into him, his hot cheek touching Kanda's shoulder, as the taller rubbed circles on his back.

"We will find a way through this. No one is going to die," he swore. "Not you, at the very least."

"We can't do anything," lamented Allen. "we can't…"

"Of course we can," said Kanda, even if he didn't really know what to do. "There is a way for everything. Just… stay with me. We will finish whatever torments you."

"I don't think so, no."

Those words also left Allen's lips, but the tone was so alien Kanda froze. His arms fell from Allen's sides, and he slowly distanced himself, fearing to look at Allen's face… but he did.

It was serious, almost expressionless, not a hint of either sadness or joy. The eyes were clear and focused, but not in a way that brought him any respite.

Such a sudden change couldn't possibly be natural.

"Allen-"

"So selfish," said the smaller exorcist. "I can only feel sorrow for the one who is dead inside of you."

"What do you mean?" he asked even though he understood, with dread, what… Allen meant.

Allen's eyes narrowed, and he let out a heavy, tired breath. "Huh? I don't know?"

A heartbeat. "Allen?"

The other's countenance seemed quite drained all of a sudden, the previous spell broken. "Yuu? What…" Allen's confused frown turned into dread. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Kanda stayed still and silent for a while, before shaking his head. "Nothing. Get up, we've been here long enough," he said, abruptly getting back to his feet and shaking the dust from his trousers. "I don't even have your pack," he continued, avoiding the white haired boy's eyes.

He didn't want to see what he saw ever again.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

"You seem pretty calm," remarked Allen, staring at Kanda as the samurai stood by the tent's entrance.

"So do you," answered Kanda, looking at the boy. Allen was quite composed if you compared his current state to his breakdown in the clearing. He could even pass as a tranquil, unbothered person, were it not by the hands that still gripped the golden object for so long they had to hurt.

Kanda turned away, ready to leave. "Aren't you going to insist we share the tent today?" asked Allen, trying to sound mirthful but letting a drop of anxiety reflect in his tone.

"I'm not," said Kanda. "Somehow, I don't think you will wander off tonight."

Allen's smile became forced. "I see," he answered. "Then I will see you tomorrow."

The taller man didn't answer, leaving the tent and its troubled inhabitant inside.

Don't worry, thought Kanda, easily understanding Allen's feelings. I'm not abandoning you.

And with that, instead of arranging his own sleeping place, he carefully circled Allen's tent and set himself behind it, leaning close and creating small opening large enough for him to spy, careful so he wouldn't be seen or heard.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

Allen stared at the tent's flap, watching as it was opened to let Yuu out and fell closed after that. By then, his smile had evaporated into nothing, stomach shifting uneasily.

This is how it should be, he assured himself. This is surely for the best.

Yuu should be kept as far from this dangerous mess as possible. He was, after all, a potential victim to the same dread Allen suffered.

Just thinking about it made him want to get up and do something, but he felt as impotent about Yuu's situation as he felt about his own. He'd done what he should have so long ago: he had warned his friend. Now he could only hope the man would follow his advice.

Yuu had been ever so patient with him, hearing him out even after he broke his word yet again and left the waterfall. Allen told him the truth, and then Yuu helped him up, took him back to the water so he could wash his dirty clothes and, some time later, guided Allen back to the encampment. If Allen felt too weak and leaned on the Japanese the whole way, no one said anything; Yuu just guided the white haired boy's faltering steps with his own surer ones.

And now Yuu had left, and that was the best outcome he could hope for. Truly, Yuu had done what any rational person would: realizing that Allen's predicament was too complex and hopeless to deal with, he'd gone away, interrupting that constant watch that had been making the both of them crazy these days.

That had been making Allen feel safe.

He directed his attention to the thing inside his hands, opening them and flexing hurt fingers. Allen had been holding it for so long and without paying attention to the strength he used that it was a wonder the golem was still whole. Long tail and delicate wings started unfolding clumsily, clearly unused to the rough treatment.

"You will show me it," deadpanned Allen, uncaring of its clear discomfort. "Once more. All of it."

It was all so surreal, he wanted to pretend he hadn't seen anything in the forest, but he knew the truth would be pushed into him once again sooner or later.

"Show me, or I will destroy you," he declared sincerely.

He'd had too much.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

Kanda's eye observed the inside of the tent, peeking through the small slit that he had previously cut. It was large enough as to allow him to, with some luck, watch the proceedings inside without revealing his presence.

He noticed Allen's back was to him, and for a while he thought that unfortunate. Then he saw something fly in a strange pattern in the air – something that shone like bright gold even in the dim light inside the tent.

A golem.

Before he could even start measuring the losses they could suffer by having an unknown golem brought to their midst, he heard Allen's demands and threat to the thing and stilled himself. The golem flew to the floor and opened its mouth and from it, to Kanda's surprise, an image was projected.

It had been a bit of a shock. At first there was only Allen in the tent and then, in the matter of a second, another person appeared, semi transparent but very visible. Kanda had seen holograms before. They were a technology only used by the Order, and Tiedoll owned a golem that could reproduce such a thing.

No, what made him so surprised was who was being projected.

The image that flickered and then condensed in the air was that of Allen himself, smiling, his countenance friendly and light. He was donning the same clothes he'd worn during his first escapade; Kanda had the outfit memorized, the image of it splattered with Allen's blood when Kanda hit the boy's face still fresh in his mind. His face was free of any wound, however, proving the record had been made before their conflict by the river. Behind him was dirty, leathery fabric, and he sat over fabric covered ground, but that was all the area shown by the holograph revealed before it reached its limits.

"Hello… Allen," he started, "I'm sure at this point in the game I don't need to explain what is happening. I just thought you'd like to speak to the second consciousness in your mind…"

Kanda's mouth opened in shock. Once upon a time, he would wonder what in the world would persuade Allen to record a message where he spoke to himself… now, however, he knew there was much more to it than he could have imagined, and it wasn't hard to connect the dots after everything he had seen, heard and remembered today.

"Yes, this is I, the one you have labeled as a cluster of memories you wish to rid yourself of." Even as he touched the harsh topic, Allen's tone was easygoing, though grey eyes dimmed a bit at the last words.

"But there is the thing, Allen. I am not a cluster of memories. I am a person. A guy with a life, hopes, dreams, projects," continued he, mouth now twisting in displeasure, "and then it all ended when I died, killed by my father's… sword," he confided, face finally setting in seriousness appropriate for the situation.

"Then again, I am not dead, am I? For better or worse, I survived… even if only to wake up as a mere spectator, unable to lift a finger. An unwelcome presence in someone else's body… or am I? I never managed to decide whether you and I are the same, separated by a mental disorder caused by brain damage… or if you are an artificial personality, devised by the Order to suppress me while wielding my Innocence and using my eye.

"Did you know, Allen, that during all this time, you've been ripping off parts of me? I've stopped offering them to you, but you learned to force me open and peruse every inch you wanted, little by little, while at the same time you denied my existence."

His eyes hardened. "You say you are Allen Walker. I say you are not. How could you? Isn't it I who have been born in the slums, raised unloved, abandoned and then captured by the Order and treated like an animal? I wanted to change the world, and I would have done it, if I hadn't made the mistake of believing my own father would never hurt me."

The projection took a deep breath; some sweat now clung to his brow. "I am getting ahead of myself. Just trust me when I say this situation brings me no satisfaction. You aren't someone I hate, yet you stand in the way. I've been watching you, getting to know you and even grown somewhat fond. You are a good boy. But you've had a few years, and did nothing more than a mere maintenance in the world of the exiles. Whatever you did of impressive, you did with the help of the knowledge you stole from me, and even then, not as well as I would."

He sighed, seeming more tired and aged than ever. "I'm going to be frank with you, Allen: you aren't going to survive this war."

At this, his already harsh breathing became even heavier and more uncertain. The projection's grey eyes narrowed in pain, and shoulders drooped as he seemed to lose most of the energy that maintained his indignation up until now.

"I… hate what I am doing. Without me, you are essentially a young child… and here I am, twenty years older and saying I'm going to kill you," the recorded Allen whispered. "But I guess this is war. For all it is worth… I am sorry. Not for my ideals; never for them. But for having to hurt you, who are one of the children I should protect. There is just too much to be done, too much you do not understand, and I am the one who can do it. Forgive me, Allen, but I can't give up."

His frame now shook, exhaustion taking over. "I don't hate you and don't see you as the enemy, but this is what the Order has done with us. You are a good person, I shouldn't…" he shook his head, interrupting the trail of thought. "It… isn't going to hurt, alright? It will happen… little by little. Someday it will be over and you won't even know it. I… will win this war, Allen. I owe it to many people. And I owe it to you, who I am going to… put to rest."

He smiled, eyes touched by regret, but none of the tears that pooled there fell. "It is scary, isn't it?" whispered he, filled with unbearable pity. "Think of it as the Order's fault. It is always them… who ruin life for us." Then he lost his equilibrium, falling to his side. "Tim? I d-don't think I can do this anymore. Please sto-"

The image disappeared with a short click, leaving only the tent and its silent inhabitant inside, cold emptiness lingering where a few seconds ago the two Allens had been. The abrupt interruption made everything so surreal; the now darkened tent felt as if this was just another night, and nothing of relevance had ever happened. But the dire warning had been burned into the minds of the two viewers and became unforgettable. Allen was silent and unmoving; the future as they had imagined seemed to have been put to an end before it even started.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

He saw the boy only a few years ago, but it felt like an eternity. Helping him back then had been an impulse with everlasting consequences to the aging general. To this day he still worked hard to properly cover the many years he raised the young exorcist in secret, and his heart ached because he hadn't seen him for so long.

But he never regretted doing that. And it hurt not to know how the boy was, yes, but he had known the day teacher and apprentice took different paths that they probably would never see each other again.

It had gone against his every instinct. If Tiedoll had raised the child, if he had taught him to speak English and read and write, and if he taught him how to synchronize with his weapon and fight, it wasn't because of the Order. It had been for the boy himself. To see him leave to walk by his lonesome in what was basically an apocalyptic world had been almost impossible. He had contemplated telling him to stay many times.

But that fire that had burned in Yuu's eyes, that strong determination to see his friend again told Tiedoll it would be all pointless. That self appointed mission of Yuu's was what kept him alive, and he would never wish to change that.

So he spent his time since then thinking about him. More often than not, his thoughts limited themselves to the most crucial question: was Yuu even alive? The cruelty of not knowing the young exorcist's location was that he had no means to know about his welfare. But, should Yuu be dead by now, that cruelty was also a mercy. There were some news he'd rather die ignorant of.

Sometimes he pondered about whether Yuu had found Allen, too. He didn't like imagining his boy could still be alone amidst the hunger and disease of the wild. And that was all Tiedoll's feelings were limited to: wishing and wondering. He had nothing of Yuu but his memories.

Who would have imagined, then, that he would be presented today with a picture of the young man he considered a son?

"General?" asked the other exorcist who had handed him the printed slip of paper. "Are you alright?"

It was then that Tiedoll remembered that it wasn't normal for a general of the Black Order to tear up at the sight of a rogue exorcist who's supposed to be a complete stranger, so he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

"I am quite fine," he assured the now skeptic man, but fortunately he wasn't pressed for more. "So, who is this?" asked he about the picture, even though he knew that person very well.

It was Yuu, the photograph as recent as he could hope. He seemed to be in a forest of sorts. He was dressed in heavy pants, a shirt and resistant looking boots that almost got to his knees. The garments were torn apart, exposing battle wounds that bled profusely. Half of his chest was exposed, displaying the always present tattoo that had to be hard at work even as the picture was taken. Mugen was ready in his hand, blocking an attack from someone the cropped photograph didn't allow him to see.

"That's an exorcist who tried to invade the city general Yeegar is now stationed at," explained the man. "Almost got captured, too, but he was such a good fighter he managed to escape from Order exorcists and the Crow. Even killed some officers who were told to follow him. I heard it was pretty messy, and no one saw him ever since."

"I see. That's a pity," lied Tiedoll, eyes still glued to the precious square of paper in his hands. "And this picture…?"

"Taken by one of the exorcists' golems. It's the best one we got of him." The brunet stared at Yuu's picture for a while more. "Really, I can't understand, general. Why must people like him flee from the Order? The outside is hell in earth, is it not? Anyone there would give almost anything to be inside a city, and exorcists have a free pass. I just don't get it."

Tiedoll looked at him with an understanding expression. This particular exorcist had always been a compliant one, agreeing with the Order's views and never questioning the commands he received. It was normal he had yet to see worst side of the organization he worked for, one that wouldn't hesitate to torture him or use his family members as leverage so as to make him obey. "Yes, I also wonder," he said instead. "I must ask, however, why you gave me this." Tiedoll was secretly grateful for the picture, no matter how dire the situation it was taken in, but the way he received it was odd.

"This guy is an important target," answered Chaoji. "I know any accommodator is, but he is a special case. For some reason, Central wants him no matter what."

Tiedoll raised an eyebrow. "The Order always pursues rogue exorcists."

"Yeah, but this one is different. They are sending whole squads after him! It is a class A mission. They put him under the same priority as Allen Walker!"

It was only through the same self control he had developed in order to lie to his superiors many times that Tiedoll managed to look neutral, masking his faster heartbeat and his dread. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, I wonder whether he is also a very dangerous criminal. Anyway, they sent you this picture because when you travel you are supposed to look for him, too. Please excuse me, general. I have this afternoon off and I plan to enjoy it."

The old exorcist paid no attention to the Chinese man's blabbering, allowing him to leave without a glance. As soon as he was by himself, his grip on the picture tightened, and he had to stop himself from accidentally tearing it.

Yuu was alive. Alive, and that was the best gift he could have asked for.

It was a pity that the good news refused to come without a negative counterpart.

What in the world have you done to get the Order's close attention, Yuu?

He sighed, fingers touching the image of the fighting exorcist affectionately.

If the Order wants me to look for you, that is what I am going to do, indeed, he thought. It had never been a choice.

·÷±‡±±‡±÷·

GentleSoul76: Thanks for your comment! I thought this problem of Allen's would bring a new dilemma. Some may see current Allen as the sole victim, but past Allen was a good exorcist, too. He fought hard for humanity, before being killed by the one he loved. Then he wakes up and has the chance of fulfilling his dream once more, but he's trapped in someone else's body and can't even move, forced to be a mere spectator… it is quite terrible for him too.

Darke13: The story is planned, but it is likely there will be some changes so I truly don't know what is going to happen for sure. I'm not tending towards a happy or sad ending, I'll just let things happen naturally.