Legal Disclaimer: I do not own Red vs. Blue or any of the show's characters. They are the rightful properties of Rooster Teeth.
Chapter Twenty-Six:
The sounds of frantic sparring, armor slamming against armor, echoed loudly along the insides of the air transport. Lavernius Tucker swore that he could feel the vehicle shaking from more than just turbulence every time one of the combatants' heavy blows connected.
The transport itself had a lot of space to move about in, having been designed to carry large patrols along with some of their vehicles and heavier equipment. But, with the way that former Freelancer Agents Tex and Carolina were going at it, it seemed as if they weren't confined or restricted by the looming walls surrounding them in the slightest.
Tucker wondered briefly as to how many missions the two females had been on that had required them to develop such ease and familiarity with fighting on an actively moving air transport. He quickly decided to scratch that curiosity train though, as it was probably a bullet point on his own personal Don't Even Fucking Want to Know What Happened in Freelancer List.
Who could blame him, after all? Those crazy Freelancer assholes always ended up making his torturous and rather turbulent life in warzones look like a fucking walk in the park. It was both impressive and nerve-wracking.
Sitting there thinking about Freelancers in general would have his thoughts inexplicably turn to a certain steel with yellow trim ex-agent in particular, and that would have him dwelling on his son and all the others who had been taken once more in no time flat, so Tucker finally sauntered over to the two women. The teal-armored man was still not a hundred percent sure that Tex and Carolina were even in a "friendly" sparring match to begin with, but it was as close to one as the two of them were ever likely to get into.
Tucker stood at what he figured counted as a safe enough distance away, although he still had to raise his voice to jokingly call out to them: "Hey! Are you both trying to take us down before we even reach Rat's Nest?"
Almost at the exact same time, the two women both paused long enough from their blurry jabs and kicks to give the dark-skinned man the finger. Tex didn't even bother turning around to face him, like the supreme boss that she was. To be honest, Tucker figured that was better for him than the joint punches to the balls he had halfway been expecting.
"Believe me, if they weren't holding back that would have happened long before now." Four Seven Niner, who evidently had pretty kickass hearing skills on top of her incredible show of piloting ability, decided to answer him vocally instead. The woman glanced over her shoulder from where her wheelchair was positioned by the ship's controls, smiling at her own personal joke.
The smirk in Tex's voice was apparent when she spoke up next, "I take it you still remember all of those last minute air rescues we had you do?" She asked Niner, clearly amused.
"As fondly as the migraines I always felt about two seconds later." The silver-wearing pilot remarked dryly.
"And yet that didn't stop you from bragging about them at the bar later." Carolina shot back, her voice sounding oddly fond at the memory.
The smile that Four Seven Niner threw the redhead's way was downright flirtatious, "Hey, who else would have been able to have your backs then?"
Carolina smirked right back at the pilot in a manner that seemed to be equally as suggestive. Carolina's brother seemed to sense from Tucker's eyebrow waggle at the sudden "electricity" in the space that the dark-skinned man was likely about to say something that would get him, probably rightfully so, pummeled to death in the next five seconds so Church intervened: "Please, Tucker, you've been around the two of them enough to know when they're serious."
"He's right, son. This little skirmish here barely even registers on the 'Help! We're probably all gonna get killed along the way, dang-nab-it!' scale." Sarge noted gruffly from where he was seated beside Church and Freckles to observe the fight.
Santa had long since vanished from view following his assisting Church earlier, like a computer that went into hibernation mode while stuck downloading porn.
"Wait," Church said as he raised an eyebrow at Sarge's comment, "That's what we're calling it now?"
The older man in red nodded sagely, "Well, I like to keep my language clean in front of mixed company." He explained.
"You've always been such a thoughtful gentleman, Sarge!" Doctor Grey chimed in rather appreciatively that very moment, causing Sarge's face to turn a shade of red that nearly matched his armor.
Church made a distinctive "whipping" noise under his breath at the exchange, only to let out a totally manly "Eep!" a second later when a black helmet crashed violently against the wall mere centimeters from his face, "What the fuck, Tex?!"
The redhead smirked back at him, her brown eyes twinkling mischievously, "Like you're one to talk about being whipped, Church."
Tucker grinned and let out a sharp bark of laughter, "She's totally got you there, dude!"
Blue eyes narrowed angrily in Tucker's direction, and Church had to only utter one word to cause Tucker to freeze in his tracks, "Washington."
An uncomfortable silence filled the transport then, that one particular name a sharp enough reminder of what they were on their way to do that it pretty much killed the friendly banter they had all been getting into.
Church grimaced as he took in the sudden stricken look on his friend's face, his grip on Freckles tightening marginally in response, "Tucker, look, I'm sor—"
"It's cool, man." Tucker cut his friend off and quickly put on a brave face, knowing full well that Church could be a major asshole at times (they all could, no shame in admitting it), but that he hadn't meant to dig that particular knife in any further than it already was, "Really."
Church looked ready to put his other foot in his mouth and make things even more hella awkward than they already were, though thankfully his sister seemed a bit more capable of reading the room then. "Tucker." Carolina spoke up with a pointed look his way, "Was there a particular reason you interrupted us, or…?"
"Y—yeah, there was actually." He admitted, grateful to see his goateed friend's back resting comfortably against the wall once more, "I'm just really fucking sick of standing around and doing nothing at the moment." As he spoke, he raised his hands up in the form of fists as he walked in-between the two combatants, "I was sort-of hoping, since you two ladies were already sparring and everything, that you might be interested in taking me on?"
"No cheesy pickup lines?" Tex asked incredulously.
Tucker shook his head, "Nope, I'm being fucking serious here." He told her, "I want to be in the best shape possible to rescue my kid, Wash, and the others."
The two women glanced over at one another, and for a split-second Tucker was worried that maybe they still wouldn't buy it given his past tendencies to not take too things seriously. But, then they both smirked at him. Evilly. A sudden inner panic welled up inside of him at the sight, especially with Church's shit-eating grin and Doctor Grey's "I'll get the medkit!" song in the background.
"Sure." Carolina informed Tucker, arms crossed over her chest in her customary badass pose, "Just don't expect us to go easy on you."
Tucker grinned earnestly, holding himself at the ready, "Now that's what I want to hear!" He exclaimed, knowing full well already just how much he might come to regret those words a few moments later.
Doc let out a tiny breath of relief when he saw how things played out with Tucker and the others, "All's well that ends well, I suppose!" He said rather shakily to no one in particular.
Vanessa Kimball raised an eyebrow at the purple-armored man's comment, "You were expecting a different outcome?" She inquired curiously.
"L—Let's just say that similar instances have ended with a punch or two in the past." The medic in purple said as he smiled sheepishly in response, fiddling with his hands in the same manner that Doyle was prone to doing when he became nervous, a tick that had always caused Kimball's eyebrows to twitch slightly in annoyance whenever the older blond-haired man had done so in the past.
"Heh. Fun times." Sarge smiled whimsically, "Though now isn't exactly the time to be reminiscing about the good ol' days!"
"The…the good old days?" Church sputtered indignantly, "I had to have my fucking jaw wired shut once!"
"I don't recall anyone else but you complaining at the time." The older man in red armor stated emphatically.
Church hunched in further around himself and Freckles, muttering something that sounded distinctively along the lines of "crazy old nut job" under his breath.
Doctor Grey looked mildly disappointed by the turn of events herself, "Well, that would have certainly given the two of us something more to do on this flight though, wouldn't it?" She asked Doc, although she was already getting medical supplies ready all the same.
Doc's smile was somehow even more sheepish now, "Yes, but rooting for that seems a bit…"
Kimball tuned out of the discussion that the two medical experts were having, noting that Doyle was, in fact, fiddling nervously with his fingers at that very moment as he watched the ongoing sparring session currently taking place.
Andersmith was sitting by Doyle, though from the tilt of his head and the heavy breathing she could make out with every rise and fall of his chest, she suspected that the rookie's still recuperating body had succumbed to Doctor Grey's last insistent request that he let himself rest before the mission officially started upon their arrival at the notorious Rat's Nest.
Not wanting to wake the dozing, blue-trimmed lieutenant, she quietly moved over to Doyle's other side even though the caution was probably unnecessary if the dark-haired male was able to sleep through the excessive clatter of the training session currently underway.
Doyle's eyes barely flickered over to the former supply runner before fixing back on the match, clearly in awe over Tucker's apparent ability to at least remain somewhat standing in the face of Carolina and Tex's combined onslaught. She noted that his hand went subconsciously to where the alien sword hilt at his side would have been, though it remained hesitantly hovering there once he seemed to realize that the sword in question was no longer present all the same. She cleared her throat to gain his attention.
"Ah, Miss Kimball!" Doyle began, "W—what are you…?"
The dark-skinned woman inclined her head towards the sparring match, "What about it? Want to take up sparring to pass the time?" she asked him.
His mouth hung open like a gaping fish at the question, eyes darting from her face to the practice session and back again in quick succession.
The genetically engineered woman held up a hand to stop the weak protest she was sure would follow once Doyle was able to vocalize properly again, "Don't worry, I'm not cruel enough to throw you that far into the deep end just yet." She reassured him with a slight smile, "I meant that we could have a sparring session. Together."
"Us?" Doyle blinked in open disbelief.
Kimball nodded, taking the opportunity to stretch, "It has been longer than I'd care to admit since I last practiced hand-to-hand combat." She said self-deprecatingly, "So I'd like to make sure my skills haven't gotten too rusty."
Doyle frowned, glancing down at his own hands in his lap, "I'm sure they are still worlds better than my own." He murmured, "To say I need a bit of polish would be an understatement."
The joint leader of Chorus smiled encouragingly, extending her hand towards Doyle, "All the more reason for us both to get some practice in, wouldn't you say?" Kimball smirked, "Maybe Tex even has some swords on hand for when you get your alien relic back."
Church scoffed at Kimball's comment, "Dude, you'll have to narrow it down by type and weight first."
Sarge nodded in agreement, "Tex's armament is mighty impressive. Reminds me a bit of my shotgun collection back home."
The cobalt-armored man sighed, "Just try not to cry when you see it this time, okay, old man?"
Sarge harrumphed, an indignant sniff already escaping from his nose, "You and I both know I can't make that promise."
As Church let out another long-suffering sigh, Doyle looked up at Kimball in a rather shy manner, "If you don't think I would slow you down any…" he trailed off, grabbing onto her hand as he did so.
Kimball smiled even more, "Never." She assured him as she helped the white with gold-wearing man to his feet.
From nearby, Doctor Grey squealed in obvious excitement just as Tucker was kicked into the wall of the transport and barely managed to dodge a follow-up punch from Carolina, "Oh, it looks like we might have some work to do before we get to Rat's Nest after all!" She stated, the anticipatory gleam in her brown eyes impossible to miss.
Next to her, Doc gave a half-hearted, "Yay?" in reply as Four Seven Niner shook her head from the pilot's spot, amusement clearly written all over her tanned features.
"This has got to be one of the most interesting flights I've flown in a long time." The pilot mused mostly to herself.
"Hey, cop guy."
David Washington rolled his eyes in obvious annoyance at the rather absurd nickname before glancing up at Kaikaina Grif hovering above him. "What is it, Kai?" He asked her in a weary tone.
Truthfully, the former Freelancer had felt a distinct lack of energy ever since Junior and Simmons had been taken away. He was trying hard not to let it show in order to help boost morale, but even he was aware of how much of a losing battle it was becoming.
Charon taking Junior away was definitely not a good sign, especially since anyone could tell just by looking at him that the boy was a special case even as far as genetically engineered people went. If something were to happen to him, how would Washington ever be able to even look Tucker in the face again, let alone himself?
"I'm worried about the little guy too, and the gray nerd." Kai's voice was unusually soft when she spoke, her foot kicking the ground as she did so, "We all are."
Washington glanced around the cell, noting that Caboose was talking softly to Volleyball and Palomo over in the other corner while Bitters was off to the side with an angry scowl across his features. The nervous energy all around them was fairly apparent, and he had no doubt that he would have seen much the same if he peered into the cell that was occupied by Donut, Jensen, and Matthews just then. Even Sheila and Lopez had become uncharacteristically quiet in their adjoining accommodations.
Washington frowned at the realization, knowing full well that he didn't have the time or the luxury to dwell on worry right then if he wanted to help Junior, help all of them. If he wanted to be able to see Tucker again, he needed to come up with some sort of escape plan.
"Not to mention that Dex is…" Kai's continued talking dragged the blond out of self-deprecating thoughts as he saw the young woman glance nervously in her big brother's direction, "He isn't doing too hot."
Grif was kneeling on the floor in the same position he had been in since Sharkface had left, a sheen of sweat covering his ashen face. The heavyset man was breathing heavily, his dark eyes downcast as he seemed to have withdrawn into himself.
"His situation changed recently. Don't think he had the time to tell you assholes yet." The younger Grif stated quietly, "But with those even bigger dicks taking Simmons on top of everything else, I think…"
"It's pushed his body's natural inclinations over the edge." Washington surmised glumly once she trailed off.
Kai's anxious frown only deepened, and she nodded. "He really fucking needs the nerd back." She told him in a voice that broached no room for debate.
Not that Washington really needed one. He had witnessed firsthand just how close the two men had become to one another over the years, and he also knew more about the various traits of genetically engineered people than most due to his time in Freelancer. He could put two and two together on just how Grif's situation had evolved.
It was yet another massive roadblock they had to deal with in a situation that already had far too many of them for his liking.
"We'll figure something out, Kai." Washington tried reassuring her.
"Of course we fucking will!" The yellow-armored girl gave Washington a lopsided grin in return, and he was grateful that he could still at least offer some form of encouragement in this situation despite his own worries and growing unease.
The former Freelancer returned her smile weakly before he sighed and closed his gray eyes, letting himself briefly wonder how Tucker was doing. The last time he had seen the teal-armored man, he'd been…
"Oh, don't you worry about that, Wash!" Donut stated with his usual bravado, "Tucker's doing just fine! Doc was with him, and he's an expert at plugging in all sorts of holes!"
"He would totally know that too." Kai tried adding in just as helpfully.
Washington blinked, completely unaware that he had even said anything about Tucker out loud. He felt his face heating up at the realization, though he tried ignoring it to smile in gratitude at Kai and Donut's attempts to reassure him, even if he wasn't as confident in Doc's medical skills as Donut always seemed to be.
"Thanks, guys." Washington muttered rather shakily all the same.
He definitely felt it was best to double down on his own strategies for making sure they would be able to see Tucker and everyone else again soon. Washington frowned in contemplation, figuring that the best time to even remotely attempt any escape could be when they were transported to Rat's Nest proper.
"Look alive, everyone!" Felix's mocking voice could be heard as he and Locus stepped into view, "We're just about ready to land."
Washington stiffened at this bit of news, "Then we're at Rat's Nest?" He couldn't help but ask the men.
The shorter of the two mercenaries smirked at his query, "Wow, nothing ever gets by you, does it?" Felix remarked sarcastically as new Charon personnel arrived in the security center with what appeared to be trays of medical equipment in tow.
"What the fuck is that for?" Bitters all but snarled out at the sight.
"Temper, temper." Felix said as he waved the device that could activate their bomb collars just then as a reminder of their situation, causing Matthews in particular to go extremely pale due to what had occurred previously. Bitters shut up immediately at the sight of the reaction from the yellow-trimmed lieutenant, though his glare could still melt steel. Felix smirked, pleased by the change in behavior, "We just need a few samples for own records before the sale gets underway, is all." He stated rather breezily.
"I do not like needles." Caboose muttered, and Washington ignored the remark that Donut made about all of the other different ways he preferred getting poked and prodded instead, his gray eyes narrowing in thought. Samples could only mean…
"Hargrove is going to start his own genetic engineering program, isn't he?" Washington questioned, "Even with the current ban."
"Oh, don't act so shocked. It was only a matter of time before someone figured out a way it could still be lucrative. Besides, it's hardly like we're really delving into what's lawful or ethical now given our track record, are we?" The brown-haired mercenary shrugged indifferently, "The way I see it, it will just mean less money that we'll have to share with fellow soldiers later on if the program really kicks into high gear."
Washington took a step forward threateningly, "You son of a…!"
"This is getting us nowhere." Locus spoke up suddenly, stepping forward himself as if to block Felix from Washington despite the shielding still being in place, "The matter is not up for discussion. Cooperate and nothing unforeseen has to happen."
Washington glared at the impassive mercenary towering in front of him, but he made no move to resist as the energy that served as their cell's door dissipated. Playing along was their best bet at the moment, even if the thought made him feel even sicker to his stomach.
The room where the child and infant were currently being kept contained a one-way mirror. Richard "Dick" Simmons was glad for that, at least, because he wasn't sure how he would react if the children became aware of the adults peering in on them. He wasn't exactly the greatest when it came to interacting with others, let alone children, on his best days, and the current situation that he found himself in certainly didn't count.
"Are you certain even having them here is necessary?" Simmons finally asked the person standing beside him, hating how unsure his voice sounded.
Aiden Price casually examined the data pad he was holding just then, "The situation is far from ideal, Richard." He said at length when he finally addressed the younger man, "Procurement of the samples was rather hastily done, I'm afraid."
Simmons frowned at Price's choice of words, as though the two youngsters were mere objects and not actual human beings. He supposed it was easier for some to view genetically engineered individuals as such, especially given what they had often been designed for during the war, but…
"They are both being better taken care of here than they would be at any other facility, I assure you." Price continued, "After all, you're seeing to that now, are you not?"
Simmons' frown deepened, but he was unable to deny the truth in the man's words. After having found out that his father had intended to expand his enterprise into genetic engineering and had even gone to the effort of finding two children who had been left to deal with the aftermath of that particular aspect of the war falling apart, Simmons had volunteered to be their caretaker.
The boy with the glowing teal lines he knew very little about personally, though the redhead knew that the currently unnamed infant girl had been created as a last ditch effort for "spare parts" for a supply runner batch that had ended up being wiped out in a black market coup attempt awhile back. The ability and tech to create batches was growing scarcer by the day, so Charon was collecting as much of it as they could to hopefully eventually replicate the process again on a sustainable level.
To say Simmons had been comfortable with Hargrove's idea on that front was an outright lie. Then again, it wasn't as if he really approved of much of his father's business decisions, though he could at least understand his desire to be prepared for the "inevitable fallout" that this tentative peace was sure to bring about.
Besides, it wasn't as if he was in a position to oppose his father's plans. He owed him far too much, after all, considering how he had taken Simmons in after his birth parents had been killed and had even saved his life with experimental cybernetics.
Not to mention, while the procurement of his funds was largely unethical, Hargrove was actually supplying territories and regions with the means to defend themselves, even helping to build schools and medical centers for citizenry who wouldn't have access to them otherwise.
Simmons supposed that his own doubts about how his father conducted business really did just boil down to his "still being woefully naïve about how the world truly worked," as Hargrove was always quick to mention.
The maroon-wearing man's frown only grew at that thought. That was a large reason as to why he had wanted to come along on this assignment even if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted to see just what the world was actually like in all its ugly glory, to prove to both himself and his father that he could make Hargrove proud.
Maybe, just maybe, his overseeing the handling of the genetically engineered research currently at least could mean that he could shield some of his father's "guests" from a crueler fate. It wasn't much, but it was the most he could do in his limited capacity right now.
The two nurses who were watching over the children currently at least seemed to know to be gentle and to attempt to be comforting, though the older dark-skinned boy still had a rather large pout on his face even as he half-heartedly engaged in play. Not that Simmons could really blame him for that, given the circumstances. He could only imagine how things could have played out if the more militant members of Charon's staff had been assigned to watch over them instead.
Simmons shuddered slightly at the thought, a heavy ache in his insides as he knew all of this was just about as far from ideal as things could get. He gripped onto his cybernetic arm tightly, trying to mask the grimace forming on his face. To make matters worse, he had even gotten injured and undergone surgery before the matter at Rat's Nest had even been finished.
He was wholly pathetic on all fronts. Maybe his father had been right, and now hadn't been the time for him to try and prove his worth…
"Are you sure you should even be up and about yet, Richard?" Price questioned as if reading his mind, "I assure you, everyone under Charon's employ is more than capable of handling matters here."
Simmons did not look over at Price, not wanting to see the barely concealed pity that was no doubt hiding behind his carefully placed mask of understanding and concern.
None of them thought he had the stomach for any of this. Fuck it, even he sometimes felt the same. But…
He bit down on his lower lip, choosing to ignore the Counselor's remark instead. "We're almost close to Rat's Nest, right?" Simmons surmised, finally turning away from the view of the playroom, "Don't we…um, have to collect the samples before…?"
He trailed off then, unable to finish the sentence on what was going to happen to the older "guests" his father had taken onboard. His dad was probably right: he really didn't have the stomach for this sort of thing.
Price didn't seem to miss a beat, tapping on the screen of his data pad, "That is already well underway."
"W—what?" Simmons' mouth was hanging open at that. Wasn't he supposed to be the one who initiated it?
"The Chairman thought it might be best to start without your involvement since you have only just recently recovered and he knows of your distaste for that part of the operation."
The dark-skinned man's eerily calm words did nothing to keep Simmons from bolting from the viewing room then, the cybernetic equivalent he had to a heart pounding loudly in his ears. How was he ever going to get the chance to prove himself if everyone kept going over him for things like this?
That thought lodged itself rather firmly in his brain as his surrounding scenery became nothing but a twisting blur as he made his way to the detention cells of the transport.
Felix looked up from where he was kneeling in a gloating position over a crouched form that one of the other soldiers had evidently just taken blood from, "Well, look who actually decided to show up!"
For once, the adrenaline pumping through Simmons' veins had him not trembling in outright fear of the steel and orange-armored mercenary as he quickly took in the scene before him.
The collared people in the cells that had been captured during their raid on Chorus? All of them were gaping at him in ways that seemed highly unusual for having just met face-to-face. He frowned, unsure of how to react to the unexpected attention.
"...De ninguna manera." {"…No fucking way."}
The brown-armored robot was the first to speak, and the redhead whipped his head around to stare at him incredulously, having no clue as to what he had said.
"Cap—Captain Simmons…!" A tan-skinned girl with a spattering of freckles on her face breathed out next, "What…?"
And that was effectively when all hell broke loose.
The tan-skinned figure who had been crouched on the ground just then that they must have been getting samples from before whipped his head up suddenly at the mention of Simmons' name. He was a heavyset man dressed in orange, and something about him caused Simmons' insides to further twist and lurch painfully for some inexplicable reason that he couldn't remotely begin to place.
The cyborg wasn't able to process why his body was reacting or even how these people knew his name because, with more strength and energy than he had appeared to possess before, the orange-wearing man had shot up to his feet and even pushed past Felix to grab Simmons' flesh and blood hand in a rather clammy, nearly bone-breaking grip.
"Simmons!" The stranger breathed out in what could only be described as happy disbelief, and though he was wobbling unsteadily on his feet he pulled the lanky redhead into a tight, suffocating embrace against his chest, "You're okay!"
Simmons stood there, frozen and unsure of what to do as the two mercenaries and the other Charon guards surrounded them. There was something warm and familiar about the unexpected closeness he was currently embraced in, but it somehow hurt all the same too.
That was probably because there was no way this was actually a gesture meant to be given to him in the first place, right? No one fucking touched Simmons that way.
Suddenly, Felix and Locus were pulling the man off and shoving him rather violently to the ground once more as Simmons watched, his mind still trying to process what had happened and just why his face started to feel inexplicably hot.
"Simmons?" The unknown man's voice was no longer ecstatic, but full of anxiety and pain.
Simmons wasn't sure why, but he absolutely hated how the man sounded just then.
"I…I'm sorry." He heard himself saying as if from some distance away. Simmons couldn't bring himself to look the stranger in the eyes just then, and a much larger part of him than he cared to admit hated how suddenly cold he felt now compared to only a few seconds ago, "I don't…I don't know how you know my name, but I think you have me confused with someone else."
Author's Notes: Gah, writing memory modified!Simmons' POV was quite tricky, and there are just so many things I have planned to happen between him and Grif following the ending to this chapter! :D Also, everyone finally gets to Rat's Nest too which means the rescue attempt can well and truly start getting underway! Huzzah! It only took me forever to reach that point! XD
Also, since I'm getting pretty close to the end for this story/AU, I'm approaching the updating schedule for it as follows:
Next Update: Prelude for Losers?: Four Seven Niner (and Carolina) Prequel
Following Update: Chapter Twenty-Seven
Third Update: Prelude for Losers?: Doyle and Kimball Prequel
Fourth Update: Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fifth Update: Prelude for Losers?: The Lieutenants Prequel
Sixth Update: Chapter Twenty-Nine
Seventh Update: Currently Untitled "In the Shade" Prequel
Eighth Update: Chapter Thirty
Ninth Update: Currently Untitled "Cyborg Surgery" Prequel
Tenth Update: Chapter Thirty-One
Eleventh Update: Epilogue
…And then we are officially done with this story-verse! XD Hopefully, if I can keep up with this schedule, I won't have any prequels awkwardly showing up once the main plot is over and done with. I'm still kind of in shock that I'm so close to being done with one of my WIPs, though I have a sneaky feeling some other story idea might pop up to torment me even before that happens because I am rather crazy like that! XD
I hope that you enjoyed reading this rambling chapter at least, and that the future updates will be entertaining too! Thank you very much for reading! :D