Deep underground, amidst sandy stone and dust from countless ages, a figure stood before a blank rock face. The light from his red eyes and forehead gem illuminated the tomb-like cave with a macabre glow. Behind him was a door leading to Area M, a place filled with the dead remnants of an insidious biometal and the devastated crash site of the Ragnarok space cannon. Before him was the rock wall.
A rock wall that should have held a door.
Seraph sighed in frustration. He turned around from his solemn guard when a brilliant green light shone out of nowhere, illuminating the room in full detail before fading down to a glowing ball.
"Any news, Jackson?"
"No, chief. Nothing different from the usual." the lizard-like elf reported.
"Very well. Continue your work."
The ball of light, the hacker elf Jackson, disappeared, taking the light along with it. Seraph returned his emotionless gaze to the wall, a mild frown upon his face.
The netherworld. A realm, a barrier, between reality and cyberspace. But ever since having the Model O biometal removed the place had disappeared, or at least its entrance had. Seraph knew though, he just knew, that they hadn't seen the last of it. But whatever the key was that opened the realm it eluded him, as did the lock and the threshold it opened.
He turned his back and walked away.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Omega was once again out on the deck, enjoying the solitude and the force of the elements available upon the hull of the Blight Brouillard. The wind blasting his face and cracking his hair out in a long trail behind his head was surprisingly calming to him, whereas most might think it a nuisance. The devil reploid had just begun to ponder how often he would be out on the deck in future when the sound of a door opening caught his attention. He looked over to see Alfredo, as well as another man, standing just beneath the doorframe. Alfredo, the aged second-in-command, came out to meet him whereas the other leaned against the door. Something about the man had caught Omega's eye, but he couldn't place just what it was.
It could have been the man's lean, well-toned frame, the cocky manner in which he crossed his arms, or the man's hip-length, spiky hair whipping in the gale. It could have been his harsh, pointed face, Or it could have been the piercing golden eyes staring him down angrily, almost jealously, as Alfredo approached.
"Well hello there mercenary. How are you?"
"Just fine, thanks," Omega replied, his attention snapping to the aged man. "What did you want?"
"Well first off, and this is really not important, but calling you mercenary is a little impersonal. Do you have a name or nickname you'd like us to use?"
"No," Omega replied bluntly.
Alfredo nodded slightly, "Well, fair enough. We'll come up with one then if you're alright with it. Now, secondly, we have your first mission ready. Alpha, get over here please!" he hollered.
"Tch," grunted the man at the door. He strode confidently out onto the deck, sunlight glinting off of his brilliant golden hair. He stopped just before Omega, staring him down, before arrogantly tossing his hair and turning to Alfredo, "Yes, boss?"
"Do show some manners, Alpha. You're going to be working with our newest member here on his next mission."
"I have to work with stuck-up here?" Omega growled. Something about the gold male beside him had rubbed him the wrong way, and it wasn't hard to guess what.
Before Alfredo could comment, the golden-haired raider had snapped back at the first mate with a derogatory comment, "Hah, boss, why don't we just call this guy the old bastard? He's certainly got the hair colour for it!" he laughed, grabbing a lock of Omega's hair and tugging.
"Alpha, that is enough!" Alfredo shouted. Alpha immediately quieted down after dodging an enraged swipe from a very territorial Omega. "You two are going to work together, and I do not want you at each others throats instead of at our enemies'!"
Omega turned to the older raider, ignoring the conspiratorial mutterings of his soon-to-be partner, "So anyways, what's the mission?"
"Just a training one really, the pair of you are going to a recently procured weapons factory of ours and picking up some supplies. However, we're a little worried about the allegiance of some of the workers there, so we want you to show them a strong presence and make them fear even the thought of mutiny. Sound all right to you?"
"Works for me," Omega replied
"Tchah! I guess I'll show the rookie how it's done!"
Omega turned, baring his teeth at the other male as the golden raider smiled cockily at his new partner, "Tell you what, old guy, you sit back and watch how things are done while I-"
"Alpha," Alfredo said calmly, "a word, if you would please."
Alpha shut up immediately, sedately glaring at Omega as the two walked off. Just before they left his sight the older raider turned to look at Omega, "Alpha here will meet you in the hangar in a few minutes. If you would go ahead, please."
"Certainly."
With that the two disappeared. Omega followed shortly after, entering the ship and walking to the elevators before heading to the bottom to wait for the others. It didn't take long. He had just started inspecting the small ship that, presumably, they were going to use for the mission, when Alpha hurried into the room, hair somewhat dishevelled.
"You took your time," Omega shot mildly, inwardly grinning at the angry snort he got in response.
"Did not, geezer."
"Call me geezer again and I'll make you feel old," Omega chuffed.
Alpha was quiet. Silence reigned between the two, tension just below the surface. Omega could tell that the golden man wanted to say something, but that he was struggling to keep quiet. The red demon decided to patronize him a little, since he really didn't want to be making enemies this early in his raider career. And so, instead of goading him further, he enquired about something that had really started bugging him.
"So your name, or at least code name, is Alpha?"
"Yup," the other replied, warily glancing at his partner.
"Why Alpha?" asked Omega curiously, if a little bluntly.
In response, Alpha just gave yet another cocky grin, "Because I'm the best of the best! The alpha dog, the big kahuna, the strongest raider on this ship! I'm a special model they made after they studied all the mega men and every other strong guy or mutos blueprint they could find!"
"The strongest you say? We will see." Omega replied, a strange, knowing tone to his voice. He turned and left for the shuttle, Alpha left staring after him silently.
"Yeah. We will see..."
x-x-x-x-x
The trip to the factory was relatively quiet. Apart from some minor briefing before they set off, not a word passed between Omega, Alpha, and the two men driving the craft. The silence was moderately uncomfortable, mostly stemming from one mildly seething golden raider, but Omega assumed that was related to the talking to he'd received earlier. He decided to ignore his partner for the time being, instead peering through the windshield as they travelled.
An hour passed before the ship finally lowered through the clouds, slowly making its way towards a small and rather inconspicuous building built into a mountainside. Whether it was due to elevation or the season, snow and ice lay thickly over the bedrock forming the mountain range below, creating an even more treacherous terrain than usual. Considering the steep slope, jagged peaks and cracked stone, Omega was glad that they were flying in. The building itself was well camouflaged by the layers of frozen precipitation on it and the frost surrounding it, the steel structure barely visible below. Had the pilots not already known it was there, it would have been easy to miss.
"Hold on, this might get tricky," one of the pilots spoke. Omega considered himself in no danger whether or not their ship landed safely, and couldn't care less when the vessel hit a sudden bout of violent turbulence. The high winds off the mountain brought powdery snow crashing against the window, but the cargo shuttle was made of sturdy stuff. It finally landed on top of the building, a resounding clunk echoing through the hull as it touched down.
"About friggin' time," muttered Alpha. He was the first out when the hatch opened with a hiss, freezing winds invading their ride's interior soon after. Omega took a little more time, opting to scope out his surroundings as he left. One of the pilots followed him out. The trio then entered the building, Alpha impatiently glaring at the others on more than one occasion.
Once inside, the pilot stopped shortly within the entrance. After a quick salute to the fighters, he stated smartly, "Whenever the supplies are ready, come and get me."
Omega nodded, turning around to delve deeper into the unknown area. Alpha, it seemed, had ignored the pilot and gone ahead. Omega jogged lightly after him, taking note of various security systems and hallways as he went. Not sure which way to go in the subterranean facility, he followed the main hallway, dim lights only barely illuminating his way forward. Soon he heard voices beyond a nearby door, knocked, and entered.
Inside, Alpha was conversing with a pseudoroid that barely reached his and Omega's chest height. It was very round and friendly looking, oversized eyes and large arms giving it a child-like visage. It was based on a sloth or similar animal, brown and tan hues covering its armour-plated body.
"Oh! Hello there!" it greeted in a high pitched, male voice. Omega nodded to it in return, a small and noncommittal grunt serving as a sign of recognition. After a quick, small smile which was oddly strained, the pseudoroid returned to its previous conversation with the golden raider. "So anyways, as I was saying, the shipment arrived not too long ago, so it's good timing on your part. The rest of the crew here is... staying out of the way, so I'll be able to lead you two straight to the weapons. We managed to get a fair few of those rifles your boss liked, as well as a grenade launcher or two..."
The exchange continued as the small pseudoroid beckoned the two raisers to follow him. Alpha took the lead while Omega followed silently, eyes cautiously skirting around the small base. Something seemed rather off about the whole affair. Despite the laid-back attitude of the other two, Omega decided to keep his eyes and ears open, silently watching for anyone to make a wrong move.
The pseudoroid quickly lead them through numerous winding, twisting halls and corridors, finally arriving at a storage bunker of some sort. A thin, horizontal slit in the wall led to the outside, the makings of a blizzard howling just beyond the thick glass in the long window. Omega was briefly distracted by the scenery, but his curiosity was soon sated. Feigning disinterest, he continued gazing around the room and at the various crates when the other two stopped their walking and the pseudoroid slammed his overlarge palm into a crate enthusiastically.
"All the good stuff is in here, bud. Here, I'll show ya."
Alpha stepped aside as the pseudoroid started fiddling with the lock on the crate, large claws making the ordeal a lot harder for him than for most others. Regardless it was opened in due time, the psuedoroid pleasantly chatting all the while.
"You know, I gotta tell ya, being a raider really is something else. It sure is a hell of a lot better than what I was built for. I mean, seriously, I was made for a kids show! How humiliating is that! Geeze, I tell you, they go on about reploid and human equality, but us pseudorids just don't exist as far as any of them are concerned..."
Alpha turned to look at Omega, the pair of them raising their eyebrows as the sloth mutos continued chattering incessantly. With a roll of his eyes the golden haired raider turned back to the crate, which the sloth had disappeared into.
"...But still, out of all the things that have happened, I've come to realize..."
"Come on in there, hurry up!" Alpha growled. Silence. A minute passed before the raider sighed, leaning into the crate. "Oi, what's-?"
"I don't want to be a raider anymore."
BLAM.
Omega jerked to alertness, grabbing the stunned Alpha, now sporting a painful red wound that bled heavily upon his forehead. "You all right!?"
As Alpha grunted a response, Omega was forced to dodge a hail of bullets from the traitorous pseudoroid. He'd appeared from the crate, holding a machine gun.
"Urk, he missed, barely. Got a graze though," stammered Omega's partner.
"Nasty one. Yeesh." replied the devil reploid absently, ducking behind another crate as they were pinned down by bullets. "Hmm. Someone had weapons training, that's odd for a mutos."
"You're telling me," blinked Alpha. "What's up with that?"
"Maybe something to do with his design. Sounds more like he was built more as an entertainment model than a combat one. Hold on." Omega dashed out of cover before Alpha could utter a word, swiftly running around and dodging whatever fire he could. He jumped on top of a crate silently after the ordeal, taking some time to summon a gun. By the looks of things, the mutos wouldn't be running out of ammo anytime soon. Best to end things quickly. Charging his weapon despite the fact that he knew it would be too fragile to survive afterwards, Omega aimed at the sloth's location and waited. Gunfire continued to rattle from around a corner. Finally, a brief pause. The sloth looked around the corner, taking a second taken to look for his foes.
It was one second too long.
Omea fired, the charged energy ripping apart his weapon and zooming swiftly through the air. It caught the surprised sloth's shoulder, instantly blasting it apart as the damaged limb fell to the ground.
Normally Omega would not have taken such a manoeuvre, but his guess that their foe wasn't designed for battle had proved itself accurate. The sloth hid back behind his crate panting, bleeding and moaning in pain.
Alpha had heard the commotion. The pair converged on the wounded mutos' location.
"You were a fool to try to take out members of the Dark Prophecy!" Alpha crowed triumphantly, "and now you're about to pay!"
"Dark Prophecy..." the sloth grunted. Omega stopped suddenly, his instincts shrieking. "You lot, you lot are the worse! In all my days of being a raider, we've never seen anyone so vicious and dangerous! I may not survive today, but neither will you!"
Alpha keyed in just in time for the pair to hear the cocking of a gun. The pair tried to hide behind another crate, but it was too late. An explosion ripped through the room, shattering the window and sending the crates flying. The wall was destroyed, crates and busted weaponry rocketing into the air, shrapnel slicing apart anything nearby. Both remaining raiders were flung from the room into the storm outside, gravity taking its toll as the pair, sporting new wounds, fell into a deep, icy crevasse. Omega tried to double jump to a wall but slipped on the coated surface. He looked down to gauge the best way to land... and realized that he, if he valued his life, should not land at all.
Although the mists hid most of the bottom from view, the glint from large, jagged spears of ice was unmistakable. Alpha yelled in fear as they approached, and no amount of luck could have saved them from what was to come.
But luck was never something Omega relied on.
Just as Alpha was sure he was dead, large claws gripped his back and abruptly halted his descent. The raider, winded, looked up at the claws and the reploid it was attached to, before releasing a yelp of surprise and reaching for a weapon.
"Who the hell, where did you-!?"
"Shut up and let me fly! Argh!" Omega screamed, putting every ounce of energy he had into flapping his wings.
Viral had done a masterpiece. Omega was now in a form that resembled some ominous mix between Wallaburn, Temporoc and Devilbat Ignis. A dark red and black colour scheme, matching his own characteristic armour, added to the demonic effect. However, something was wrong with the new form. Although everything was much more proportionate than the last time he'd attempted it, his wings were giving him problems, every flap releasing waves of pain. Just as he flew back into the hole in the mountain, one of the wings gave out, his shoulder ripping apart. The two tumbled across the floor, bouncing and skidding, blood splattering on the ground every time they hit. Alpha was back on his feet first, glaring around the room to assure its security, before returning his gaze to Omega, who was stumbling to his feet with one shoulder half open and both arms limp.
Omega grunted, focusing even as Alpha continued to stare. One bright flash of light later and Omega was back in his humanoid form. He quickly swung his arms, then massaged the formerly wounded shoulder. Silence pervaded the wrecked hall, only the wind's howling interrupting the tense atmosphere.
"You never told us you could do that." Alpha stated quietly. Something about his deameanour seemed oddly despondent in the the empty room.
"Now why would I?" Omega snapped back after a moment. The red reploid closed his eyes, sighing. When he next opened them he saw Alpha, still staring at him with a mixture of emotions. Anger, hatred, confusion and shock marring his features, yet for some reason, jealousy stood out among all others.
"...You're going to have some explaining to do when we get back."
Omega huffed. "I will explain nothing. Not to people I only just met, people that I don't fully trust. If you can't figure things out for yourself that's not my problem." Although he said it with a calm, assured tone, inside he was really worried. He'd worked so hard to keep his secret from Legion, and the very first of his raider missions, boom, his secret was blown out of the water quicker than a cat with a jetpack.
"...Whatever. Let's get this over with."
The two headed back to the ship.
x-x-x-x-x
Upon arriving back at the ship, tensions were high. They remained so, the entire trip back to the Blight Brouillard passing in strained silence. At one point the golden-haired Raider excused himself from the back and left for the front. The door closed. They didn't open for several minutes, but when they did so, Omega immediately questioned his comrade.
"I don't suppose you'll tell me what that was all about?"
"Minor debriefing. Just a quick overview of how the mission went, was all."
Omega stiffened visibly. Alpha simply sighed in response, a resigned air about his frame.
"Just relax, geezer. I haven't given him the juicy bits yet. Just wait until we get to the base, then we'll sort things out."
And so they did. Upon arrival on the Blight Brouillard they saw Scimitar waiting solemnly in the cargo bay, watching their ship without giving away so much as a hint towards his thoughts. Omega was indicated to wait as he and Alpha left for another room. Everyone was tense.
In the echoing quiet of the hangar, the sound of the door opening was a welcome distraction. A thin looking raider saluted the silver-haired occupant of the bay.
"Your p-presence is affab-bly requested by... wait, that's not very affable, is it?" stumbled the raider. Eyebrows raised throughout his audience before he finally summoned the courage to finish. "Er, yeah, what I meant to say is, the Cap'n would love ta see ya in the bridge. He also wanted me to make sure ta tell you that he's not mad or anything? Don't know why he told me to say that. Cap'n never gets mad..." he mumbled.
Omega simply got up and walked past the raider without another word.
When he finally arrived in the bridge, most of the activity therein seemed to cease. Scimitar faced the window as the clouds whipped past, Omega's vision soon turning from him to elsewhere in the bridge. Alpha was huddled by the door, glaring at him even as Omega's eyes roamed the room. When his gaze returned to Scimitar, all eyes turned to him.
"Is suppose this is about-"
"No need to tell me." Scimitar turned, a paper held in his grasp. He lightly let it drop onto a nearby console, not even bothering to look at it as it fell. Omega observed it long enough to realize that it was a wanted poster... a wanted poster of him, titled 'The Silver Sell-Sword'. "It seems that the Masters are trying to hide something. All of our sources in Legion are saying that they know very little about who or why this person, you, has suddenly come out of nowhere with such a large sum on their heads. A sum denoted by the Masters no less. There's also rumours that they're getting a special squad ready to take you down. Of course, this is just speculation. None of our sources were in on the meeting the Mega Men and the Masters had. At least, not directly. So this is all second hand info. Coupled with the recent... data, from Alpha... well, this is obviously something Legion wants hushed up quickly." he turned to Omega, a blank expression clouding his eyes. "Of all the things this would point to, and considering fairly recent events... Am I, perhaps, to believe you are an experiment of Albert's?"
Omega stayed silent, attempting to gauge the mindset of his captain. Scimitar, however, remained unreadable. He finally chuffed loudly, "I suppose that's what it looks like, doesn't it? But like I said to Alpha. I'm not saying anything's for certain until I think I can trust you enough."
"Fair enough. As long as you work for us, I couldn't care less where you're from."
"Good." And with that, Omega left. Behind him the bridge stayed oddly quiet, Scimitar and Alfredo appearing deep in thought.
"So, we were wrong, perhaps?" Alfredo finally spoke. The raider leader turned to him, consternation decorating his face.
"I'm not so sure. Just because all the evidence points to him not being... the kind of person we thought he was... Well, that's not to say he still can't be beneficial. An Albert experiment can still be useful. We have our own evidence, and we have my gut. Tell me, is yours telling you the same thing mine is?"
"That this seems a little too out of the blue to be the truth?"
"Exactly," Scimitar nodded. "But like I said. If he works for us loyally, I can have no complaints. Punishing someone just because of their abilities seems rather counter-productive. I'd much rather he be working for us than against us."
"Of course."
"Besides. If push comes to shove... we are more than capable of shoving back. Isn't that right, Alpha?"
Alpha, who had remained silent, merely continued his watchful gaze of the door that Omega had left through. He finally broke his vigil, golden eyes staring at his leader like a hawk. "Aye. That we can."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
As Omega settled down in his room for the night his mind raced, not able to settle on any particular issue. So much had happened in the last few days that his mind was still reeling. Leaving Legion. Being a wanted man. Joining the raiders. Being forced to reveal his secret (because, really, even if he'd let Alpha die, how was he going to explain what happened? Besides, losing your partner on your very first mission was not something he wanted to be on his record.). And to top it all off, his failed transformation. What had gone wrong?
"The shoulder joints, master!"
Omega jerked, surprised. "Oh, Viral? Yes? What's up?"
"Sorry master, I made a bit of a mistake. I used Temporoc's wing joints in the design when Devilbat Ignis' were more suited for flapping. My apologies. I've already modified the DNA to accommodate that little hitch. Your form should be perfectly fine and ready to go the next time you try it, master! I promise!"
Omega grunted. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Thanks."
His eyes closing, Omega let himself drift into a light slumber. The fact that his door was not only locked, but also had a dresser blocking it, allowing him just enough security for shallow slumber to take hold.
But it was a slumber filled with worry, restless thoughts, and heavy foreboding.