Sangvis is the enemy of G&K and possibly the whole world. So saying, I don't think anyone could blame me for having reservations about going along with M16A1's plans.

There's just a few problems with resisting, though.

The first is that she took my weapon from me. She lifted me with one hand to one of the benches on either side of helo, took my M16A4 and USP Tactical.

The second is that after she took my guns and searched my bag for anything else (Didn't take anything as far as I can tell) she took my crutches, bringing my already low mobility down to nothing.

The third is, she took my radio. I couldn't call for backup even if I wanted to. Who would respond? Echelon 11 and Anti-Rain are already out of range and I doubt 45's in a charitable mood. I'd try my cell phone, but it's out of range.

So, I resign myself to going along with M16A1's machinations, at least for now.

"So, Little Griffin- can I call you Grif?"

"My name is Ha-"

"So, Grif, what's someone working for a Russian PMC doing all the way out here? You're a long way from home."

"Inspecting helicopters." I snark. "This one's out of spec."

Despite my tone, she grins. "Ah, you have some guts. Tell ya what, Grif. I'm going to drag you back to our base. There, you and I are going to have a chat. If I like your answers, I'll drop you off somewhere G&K can probably find you. If not, I'll give you to Beak."

Despite my brain screaming not to take the bait, my mouth continues. "Who's Beak?"

"She'll be here in… twenty three seconds." M16 says casually, holding up a hand to her ear.

I bite my tongue and listen as well.

There's the rumble of a motor that is approaching rapidly, but not a motor I'm familiar with.

"M16, I'm here~" A voice comes from outside of the helo in a whine. "I brought the dumb trailer too. I hope Architect is-" Aside from her eyes, collar and neckpiece, she looks like a black and white photograph of a person. Two long white twintails like UMP 9's flow down to her thighs. Her bright red eyes narrow as she spots me. "Who's this?"

"He's my latest prisoner." M16 grins. "And yeah, Archi's spare body is here. Help me get it onto the bike."

"Whaaaat. Have him do it. He's a human right? Yeah, just have him do it." Beak gives me a look.

M16 turns to me.

"Er, I broke my leg? I'm not going to be of much use."

"Ugh." Beak groans. "Fiiiine. Let's get this over with."

The two of them grab the glass coffin and carefully pull it out of the helo and out of sight.

M16 had set my crutches down on the bench seat opposite to mine, and there they remain, taunting me. I briefly consider hopping on one foot over to them, but it's not like I can run anywhere after I get them.

And M16 took my weapons.

Instead, I poke my head back into my backpack, wishing I had my flashlight back. Or a second flashlight. Yeah, that's an idea. Maybe a backup for the backup as well.

I managed to get the brilliant idea to just use the NVGs right as M16 comes back. "Well Grif, if you don't want to walk, your chariot awaits." She steps up to me. "I'll carry you over."

"Why does everyone insist on carrying me?" I grumble, but I'm not in a position to resist as she throws me over her shoulder. I spend the next few seconds staring at the ground as we leave the helicopter and head over to…

Whoa.

It's clearly a motorcycle, but not a typical design. Lots of spikes, guns mounted to the frame on either side of the front wheel. The handles are upright, and… it doesn't look like it can turn that well.

Beak is already sitting astride it, tapping her fingers impatiently as I'm set down on an attached trailer next to the glass coffin. "So, why are we dragging the human along?"

"Intel." M16 turns back to the helo. "One more thing. Get the bike ready."

"'Get the bike ready' huh? I'll show you how to get the bike ready." Beak grumbles, though she's already fiddling with the controls. "Who does the traitor think she is?"

"Your boss?" I mutter.

I clap a hand over my mouth as she turns her cold glare in my direction. For a few seconds I wonder if she's planning on vaporizing me on the spot with her gaze, but I don't have the chance to find out as M16 comes out, toting my backpack and crutches. She tosses them into the trailer beside me casually and jumps onto the back of the motorbike.

Beak revs the bike and we start to move.

The journey is painful, since the trailer has fairly stiff shocks and the route Beak is driving is fairly offroad. I ended up clutching the backpack to my chest to keep it from bouncing right out of the trailer. Beside me, the unconscious doll is shaken about as well, and if she was a human she'd be very sore once she got out of the box.

It's about half an hour by the time the bike finally shuts off and my legs feel like they're on fire. I'm pretty sure the cast is tight enough that nothing shifted around with all the bumping, but it still hurt every time we hit a rock or tree root.

Our destination ends up being a forested hill just out of sight of the helo crash site. There, another greyscale woman is waiting. This one has green eyes and a black weapon as long as she is tall, with two arms extending out to make it look like a massive crossbow.

"Do you have Architect?" The new one asks as she approaches.

"Yeah, we got your girlfriend." M16 says casually. "She's the one in the glass coffin."

Crossbow doll glares at M16, but instead comes around to verify the contents of the box beside me. Only after she's finished inspecting the box visually does she look in my direction. "I'm assuming there's a reason for bringing the human?"

"Look at his uniform. He's G&K. we can figure out what they're up to." M16 says. "Jeez, this is why Sangvis isn't doing so hot. You have to take advantage of opportunities like this."

"I would prefer that you didn't talk to me like I'm an idiot." She fixes her green eyes back on me, gaze seeming to cut right through me, like she's trying to see the contents of my stomach. "Well, it's your responsibility. I'm waking up Architect."

M16 walks up to me, grin in place. "Well Grif, looks like we're setting up here until tomorrow. Let's get you someplace warm and start the questions, yeah?"

I struggle out of the cart, taking a moment to slip on my backpack as well before stumbling out of the cart and onto the loam of the forest. The entire time M16 watches impassively and the green eyed doll is busy working on reviving… well, Architect, I guess.

Once I'm finally on my feet, M16 turns wordessly and leads me to a building that appears to have once been an office building of some sort. I don't know what it's doing out here in the middle of nowhere, but from it's decrepit state, maybe it was built long ago and the trees grew around it.

M16 pushes aside some sort of ivy covering the doorframe and holds it open for me as I maneuver the crutches through the undergrowth. Inside, someone has positioned an old oil drum upright and lit a fire inside of it, casting a warm glow around the concrete area.

Lining the walls are some small drone robots like the kind I've been warned about my whole life, four legs and a gun on a turret-like part at the top. Also, purple and gray versions of the thing that Sop called "Banana." None of them move much, occasionally the smaller ones rotate slightly to get a better look, but the rest of the time they're eerily still.

M16 has me move close to the fire and helps me sit down on the ground before informing me that she'll be right back and heading deeper into the complex.

Wary of the robot eyes watching me, I carefully pull my backpack off my back and start checking its contents. To my surprise, right on top is my flashlight. Looks like M16 recovered it for me. Even more surprising is that my pistol, still fully loaded, is tucked inside.

I'm still staring into the pack at the weapon when M16 collapses down beside me, a bottle of whiskey in her hand. "Alright, Grif. Let's talk."

"My name's-"

"Not important." She cuts me off, unscrewing the cap of her bottle and taking a swig. "I just want to know a few things about my former squad. I'm assuming you know them since you knew me on sight." She moves the bottle closer to me. "Have some."

"Mmm…" I eye the bottle suspiciously. "No thanks."

"Suit yourself." She grabs it back and takes another swig. "So, how do you know my sisters? Get hired to the dying PMC right before everything went to shit?"

I open my mouth to answer, but pause before any words pour out. Technically, M16 is an enemy, despite how 'nice' she's being. I'm not clever enough to come up with a complete fabrication, and as my sister pointed out several times, I'm a bad liar, but I really shouldn't tell her everything. "They… well, they saved me from my workplace being blown up."

"Sounds like fun. Why are you wearing the uniform then? I assume they didn't rescue you from their own building." She smirks. "Well, maybe, knowing Sop."

"Let's just say it wasn't a decision I took lightly."

"Fair enough." She takes another swig. "Is M4 still doing alright?"

I shrug. "She seems okay. Missing her traitor teammate, but otherwise pretty driven."

"Careful." M16's eye narrows dangerously. "You're only alive on my whim. If you're going to be flippant, I'll hand you over to Beak, or Architect once she wakes up."

I feel like those two names are supposed to make me afraid, but since the most I got was a glare from Beak… "Alright. Well, she's doing fine. So is Sop, AR-15, and RO." I say. "They're doing a good job cleaning up Paradeus, that's for sure."

"Hmmm." M16 frowns slightly. "M4's not acting strange at all?"

"I…" I scratch my chin. "I don't know how she usually acts. I'm kinda new."

"How long have you known her?"

"Today's Sunday… so almost a week." The KXD was blown up on Tuesday last week after all. "It's been a busy week."

"I'm sure." She takes another swig. Do T-dolls get drunk? I think P90 said something about it… "How'd you break your leg?"

"Shrapnel from a close missile strike from an Uhlan."

She glares at me. "Need I remind you-"

"No, I'm serious!" I hold my hands up defensively. "I was too close to an explosion and a chunk of concrete or whatever hit my shin."

She eyes me as if trying to tell if I'm lying or not. "Well… I guess I'll believe you for now. Next question: Where are you going?"

I consider giving her the knee-jerk asshole answer, but remember she was threatening me earlier. "I'm not sure exactly, but I was told we have a mission. From what I gathered, it doesn't have anything to do with you guys." I frown.

M16 drinks some more of her whiskey. "Well, that's nice to know. Oh, how about this one: How much does G&K know about our activities in the area?"

"Well… I'm just a field agent so I don't know too much, but I don't think they know that much since I wasn't told to be on the lookout for you." I scratch my head. "Probably?"

"You're not too helpful." M16 sighs. "Alright, so how about this. Tell me something that'll make me want to keep you alive."

"Uh…" I rack my brains. "RO and M4 detected whoever you have stationed in Sector 3 in Greece?"

M16 frowns. "Hmm. RO's gotten better." She takes another swig. "More."

"...Sop really likes cars?"

She shakes her head. "I guess it's my fault for just swiping any random Griffin off the side of the road. Speaking of which, what were you doing?"

"I had a disagreement with… some of the dolls." I mutter. "I decided to take a nap on the helo, and, well…"

"Yes, 404."

I glance at her. "How…?"

"Simple. I heard the voice of UMP 45 barking out orders. It's distinctive." M16's grin returns. "I'm just glad I managed to stay out of sight. 404 isn't generally happy to see me."

"I can't imagine why." I comment dryly.

She seems to take amusement at my statement and proceeds to drain the rest of her bottle rather than shoot me. "You've earned a stay of execution for the moment. Once everyone else is settled, I want a more detailed account."

"Of what?"

"What you've been up to this past week." She says. "I'm sure everyone's going to be interested in listening to how someone gets dragged into a four way fight. If nothing else, it'll amuse Architect."

"Yeah." I frown. "Why's she in a coffin?"

"Why do you think I'm going to answer your questions?" She counters.

"Because… I don't know." I shrug. "Just figured I'd ask."

"Fair enough. We just got her personality back recently, since we lost our main manufacturing facility to the KCCO a while back, we've been having a grand time finding new doll frames. It's great that we found a relatively undamaged frame to stuff her into."

"I'm sure the ride on the back of the motorcycle didn't do her any favors-"

Outside, I can hear an explosion, quite near. Without thinking, my hand dives into my still open pack at my side and I draw my pistol, only for every robot in the building to instantly level their own weapons at me.

"Yeah, not advisable to pull that out." M16 says. "Calm down."

"But-"

"It's just Architect waking up. Nothing to worry about." M16 stands up. "I need more booze. You just sit there and I'll get you when I want the full story."

"Wonderful."

So, here I sit.

I don't have any means of contacting G&K and I don't think they're going to be able to find me. I don't have a locator beacon or anything. I don't even know if locator beacons are a real thing or a video game thing.

I start to rifle through my bag once again. What do I have in here that could be useful?

There's MREs, and since I haven't had lunch I should probably dig into one of those… After pulling it open and starting some of my limited water to start the heating process, I continue rifling through my bag to look for other interesting things.

I pull out the small box M500 had labeled as a GPS that first day after UMP 45 had stuffed my backpack full of crap. This would certainly be useful if I had a map or at least the coordinates of where I was expected to be going. I'm pretty sure taking Beak's bike and making a break for it is suicidally stupid, but it least it's an idea.

I dig down further in the bag and pull out a container that I draw a complete blank of for a brief moment.

My cross stitch stuff! I forgot I had packed it. I have the grids and a bunch of the floss thread. Not all of the colors, since I had to leave most of the stuff at home, but I have enough of the basic colors to make something decent. It's a way to pass the time, certainly.

What to make, though?

P90's face shows up in my head, from when we were trapped under the building, discussing our survival and the apparent success of 'Operation Scrambush.'

"P90 also called the Paradeus assault 'Operation Icy Hot." I sigh as I talk to myself out loud. "What is wrong with her naming sense?"

I receive no answer but the wind.

In any case… I have plenty of red and blue thread, and I can easily stitch up a design with a tube… probably. I think I remember what the logo looks like. If I make them about five centimeters square, I have enough material for maybe two dozen of them? Let's see, Echelon 11, Anti-Rain, Echelon 2's NTW, M200, NZ75, Type 92 and the two Silver haired DEFY members. That's fourteen.

...I should make one for myself too, as well as Gentiane and Ricardo. I don't particularly want to give one to P7, but if one of them turns out badly I'll give it to her.

Four faces I really don't want to see pop into my head. Yeah, they're technically part of the operation, they swooped in last minute and saved my ass.

But 45's just so insufferable.

Maybe I'll give her the worst one and P7 will get the second worst one.

I grab some of the white cloth backing material and I tuck it into a hoop to keep the fabric taught. Since the fabric is white, I just need to sew in a label and outline the shape of the tube, and maybe put some other bits around it. If they're custom, that would be pretty cool. Depends on if I have the thread for it, I guess.

I start tracing out designs, zoning out and starting my stitching routine. I wish I had some music to play, but the crackling of the fire provides a good background noise instead.

By the time M16 taps me on my shoulder, I have about eight of them done, and a ninth on the way. Looking at my phone (still no signal) and I'd been working for four hours and it's now 1700.

"Ready?" The orange doll asks.

"Er…" I scratch my nose. "Uh, let me pack all of this away."

True to her word, M16 had gathered the three other monochrome dolls and sat them around the fire before instructing me to tell my story from the start. The entire abridged version took about 2 hours to tell, with me skipping around here and there to answer questions.

I give them a generic rundown of events, leaving out smaller details unless asked about them. For instance, they seem particularly interested in the fights against Paradeus forces. Well, M16 seems particularly interested.

Beak had decided to nap, or pretend to nap, since when I mentioned the motorcycle and gas station explosion story her eyes shot open and she immediately asked about the details of the bike. She lost interest once she figured out what it was from my description and went back to ignoring me.

Gager, the green-eyed one with the crossbow, seems to only be paying attention to Architect, no longer confined to her coffin. Gager apparently has a thing for Architect, giving her a lot more leniency than to the other two dolls every time she speaks.

Architect herself, though…

"The warehouse exploded?!" She exclaims, practically hopping out of her seat in excitement. "How big was the explosion?"

"Well, it literally blew the roof off." Her enthusiasm is in direct conflict with my feelings on the event of Friday morning, but I stuff my frustrations down. "I was kind of busy running away from the people shooting me to get a good look at the explosion."

Not true, but it'll save me from having to talk about it further.

"So what happened after that?" M16 asks.

"Well… I got home and prepared for the next day. We decided to try to have a normal day, like nothing happened. Try to blend in, you know?"

"I see." M16 frowns. "What is a normal day then?"

"Oh, I just took everyone out on a date." I smirk, remembering 15's insistence on that front.

M16's eye narrows, and she sets the whiskey bottle down, still half full. "You… took everyone on a date."

"I… yes?"

Now her face turns outright hostile. "What did you do to M4?"

"Er, it was more of a brief tour of the city, in groups of four." I hold my hands up defensively. She picked out M4 specifically, so I clarify. "I took all of Anti-Rain to the beach and we walked along the shore. As a group."

M16 relaxes slightly, but her eye is still glaring in my direction. "I see. This would be… Friday, if your timeline is correct."

"Yeah. That evening…" I frown. "404 did some shit behind my back and basically left me to Paradeus."

"I see." M16 nods. "You clearly didn't die, so I assume you got out of it alright."

"Mmm." I nod. "Once I made it back inside Sector 3, I had to join up with Anti-Rain and Echelon 11." I glaze over that period of time. "And… that's about it. Had to fight an Uhlan, but Anti-Rain made short work of it. Then I drove out here and got captured." I skip forward a bit. "So yeah. I had a week."

"An Uhlan. Short work of it." M16's glare eases up as a smile creases her face. "Sounds about right."

Architect raises a hand like she's in class.

I hesitate a moment before nodding in her direction.

"If I re-join Griffin, can I be assigned to your-OW!"

Gager smacks the back of Architect's head. "No."

"But, all of the explosions! If I follow him around, I'm sure to see a lot of good ones!"

"I'm actually trying to cut down on getting caught in explosions." I laugh nervously. "After all, the last one I was in shattered my shin." I point to the cast.

"Why would you want less explosions? If you need a new body, just get a new one."

"Architect," Gager turns to her charge. "Humans can't just replace their limbs."

"Really?" Beak looks at me curiously. "That seems like a design flaw."

"Why do you think they built us?" M16 picks her bottle back up and goes back to attempting to drown herself in alcohol. "They need someone to take the blows so they can continue to be absolute bastards to each other."

Where did that come from? I refrain from asking, but instead take a drink from my distressingly low canteen of water. "In any case, less explosions at least until I heal."

"So… if you heal faster, we can have more explosions?" Architect's eyes light up and for a moment everyone else shares the same expression of dread.

"Hey Archi, why don't you go patrol the perimeter?" M16 'suggests', leaving little doubt she's not really asking.

"Huh? No! You're not my boss!"

Gager cuts in. "Architect, go patrol the perimeter."

"...Fine." She grumbles, already trudging off.

With Architect gone, Gager loses interest and walks off as well to do something else. Beak also gets up and walks over to her bike fiddling with it a bit.

M16 finishes her bottle off and stands up. "Alright, I think I got what I needed from you. I'm going to go get some more of this-" She shakes the bottle. "-and you seem to be a little low on water. Give me the canteen."

I drain the last of it and hand it over. M16 disappears further into the building once again.

I hadn't really noticed earlier, but this place isn't really that intact. It's just enough to keep the rain off if it starts raining, assuming you are not under one of the numerous holes where the concrete has worn away. It's through these holes that I can see the sky has turned a dark gray, signifying the end of the day.

I glance at my phone (still no service out here, unfortunately) and it's about 1930. By now, Anti-rain and the others have certainly made it to our temporary base. Hopefully, M4 will send someone back and they'll realize something is wrong. After that I just have to hope they can find me. Somehow.

I glance over at Beak, absorbed in her bike, and notice how she's taking particular care of it, picking individual bits of plant off of the engine housing.

For all that I've only interacted with the Sangvis forces for a few hours, I've come to understand something. Sangvis dolls are kind of… one note. Gager is protective, especially of Architect, her direct subordinate. Architect likes explosions. Beak likes her motorbike. They have personalities, they talk to each other about things that come up… but they don't seem to care that much about anything other than that one thing. The IOP T-dolls seem to be a lot more animated, almost like humans in how curious they are and how varied their skill sets are. Even M16, who seems pretty reserved for an IOP doll, is way more expressive than any of her three companions.

I wonder if this is a product of their manufacturing or if it happened because of whatever made them go crazy in the first place. Actually asking is likely to be suicidal though, so I'll keep the question to myself for now.

Before long, M16 comes back with a full canteen and another bottle of whisky for herself. "Might need one of the water sanitization tablets from your backpack. The water's clear, but I have no idea what's in it."

I fish the tablets out of my pack, opening the sealed bottle and dumping one of the small tablets into the water. The tablet dissolves into the water and a shard chemical smell comes from the canteen. I check the bottle the things came in, and it says to let them sit in the water for a few minutes.

I set the canteen down as M16 sits a seat away from me, once again unscrewing the cap on her bottle and taking a swig. She seems kind of preoccupied with her thoughts, but I realize I have a question.

"M16?"

She looks up from her bottle, a carefully neutral expression on her face. "Yes?"

"How did you know I had water purification tablets in my backpack?"

"Ah." She sighs. "Well, I had to make sure you didn't have anything dangerous on you."

I give her a look, before reaching into the pack and carefully withdrawing my USP. Immediately, the drones arrayed along the walls bristle and prepare to take me down, but I ignore them. I'm not even holding it by the handle, but by the slide and upside down.

"I know, I put that back in there." She says. "Look, you're not going to get very far with just that pistol." She gestures to the arrayed Sanvis forces. "And it's not really that safe out here. It's better if we don't have to protect you in case of an emergency. I'd give you your M16 back, but I don't think the others would take too kindly to that."

"Gee, thanks." I tuck the pistol into my vest and button my jacket up against the chill, the Sangvis units relaxing once the weapon is out of sight. "So, if you're not talking about guns-"

"Radios." She nods. "Can't have you radioing for your Griffin buddies right now. We're… busy at the moment."

"You don't look busy."

"Neither do you, but I'm certain you have better things you could be doing, Like making those small stitch things." M16 slugs back more of her drink. At this point, three or four bottles of whiskey in, most people would be blackout drunk or dead, but M16 just has a faint pink tinge to her cheeks.

I have to remind myself that M16 is an android and can't really get drunk.

Probably.

"Well, yeah, I'm supposed to be making up with a really insufferable group of T-dolls." I gripe. "All so we can go on a special mission the Commander refuses to tell me about."

"That's nothing new. You'll get used to it in time. We all have to keep our secrets from time to time."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Yep." She sighs heavily. "A drink?" She once again offers the bottle.

I consider for a second that she could still be trying to poison me, but given she hasn't ordered the units around me to attack, and given the water in my canteen still smells like Iodine, I take the bottle.

It smells like the fire coming from the barrel, almost. I've had some alcohol before, but not whiskey, and it seems pretty strong.

Whatever. I tilt the bottle up and take a swig.

Immediately, I regret my decision. It feels like my throat and esophagus are on fire!

M16 grabs the bottle as I start coughing. When I finally stop breathing so heavily, she gives me a grin. "Not used to the hard stuff?"

"No… fuck, that hurt." I take a few more deep breaths of the cool night air. "Now I know why they call it liquid fire."

"Really?" She looks at the bottle in her hands. "Interesting."

"Huh?"

She and I look at each other in confusion for a second.

She raises the bottle. "Liquid fire?"

"Yeah, it burns your throat as it goes down." I repeat. "You don't feel it?"

"Not really." She looks back to the bottle. "Sure, I can taste it, and it tastes good, but then it just kinda flows into my organic reactor as fuel. I don't have… well, I guess you'd call them 'pain sensors' or whatever in my throat area. No need for it."

I give her a look. "If that's true, why do you have taste buds at all?"

"One of life's great mysteries." She shrugs casually. "Sop asked me the same question once."

"...She asked you why you have taste buds." It's less of a question and more an exclamation of disbelief.

M16 shakes her head. "Nah, she asked why we can feel. Similar subject, really. You see those Prowlers?" She jerks her thumb at the taller units surrounding the room. "They don't have an AI more sophisticated than a refrigerator. It's a lot more efficient in a lot of ways. Sangvis is all about efficiency. However, IOP went with making their dolls pretty close to humans."

"...Sop actually thinks about things?"

M16 cracks a grin. "Yes, on occasion. In any case, we're a lot closer to humans than is practical." She takes another swig of her drink. "It's really hard for a doll to say no to a human, but it can be done. Given the right circumstances, creative interpretation of orders… Makes you wonder why we can do that kind of thing at all." This last statement is spat out like it's especially bitter.

"Maybe the designer was lonely?" I try to crack a joke, but she just shakes her head.

"Miss Persica isn't someone to form attachments like that. She probably did it just because she had a whim one day."

"The more I hear about this Persica, the less I want to meet her."

"Don't worry, she's a recluse. Then again, technically Commander Gentiane is as well." M16 finishes off her latest bottle, and I can tell her cheeks are a bit rosier than before. "In any case, let's stop talking about this boring crap."

"Alright, what do you want to talk about then?"

"Hmm…" She gets a wicked grin. "How about love talk?"

"Uh… why?"

"Oh come on, tell me! I'm sure a guy like you has to like a bunch of pretty girls surrounding you, and with your own squad of T-dolls, 404 and dare I say it, my adorable sisters, you're bound to like at least one of them! Which one is it?"

"You sound like my dad." I grumble.

"No, I'm your older sister." She hops out of her seat and moves one chair over to sit next to me, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Come on, you can tell your big sis anything, right?"

"I… uh…"

"Is it M4? She's quiet, but definitely a looker. Or, RO? She's… well built."

"Ehhh…" Despite myself, I imagine myself attempting to date either of them. "Not really. M4's nice and RO's a hard worker, but…"

"Don't tell me it's Sop." She raises an eyebrow. "I didn't take you for the kind of person that wants to wake up to find you're missing an arm but now have a fully working M134 mounted to the stump."

"Sop hasn't learned how to graft mechanical parts onto a human." I blink. "Though, she did express an interest in learning…"

"Good luck with that. Only person able to rein her in is RO."

"Well, I'm not trying to date any of them-"

"So, 15 then?" She grins as I freeze in place. "Oh, I see."

"N-no, you have it wrong. She's just-"

"Ah, you don't have to worry about it. 15's a nice girl when she's not being Tsun."

"Being what?"

"Tsun. You know, the abrasive half of Tsundere?"

"Oh, RO mentioned that. I got distracted and didn't end up looking it up."

"Ah… she's just a little abrasive until you get to know her, that's all it means really. Be glad she's a low level one. Griffin's got a full grade A tsundere somewhere. Tall, dark and lethal with her cooking."

"I'll… watch out for that." I bite my lip. Who on earth...

"So if it's not 15, maybe it's someone from 404?"

I taste blood and I realize I bit through my lip, and warm blood is running down my chin.

M16 backs up verbally. "I see, not much of a fan of them, I take it."

"They left me to die in an ambush." I spit out along with some blood. "I'm not exactly friends with them at the moment."

"I see." Her eye sharpens slightly and I remember her own circumstances. I'm probably on thin ice here.

"I mean… 9, G11, and 416 are alright. It's mostly how infuriating UMP 45 was. 9 explained why they did it, and assuming she wasn't lying-"

"A bold assumption."

"-then it was even a plan I might've agreed to. If they told me what they were doing."

"You'd agree to get ambushed?" She raises an eyebrow again.

"Why not?" I shrug. "If I know it's coming I can prepare."

"That's an interesting way to take that. Though, I'd suggest that at that point you're no longer being ambushed and instead turning the plan back on them." M16 finally releases my aching shoulder and sits up. "I assume 404 is the really aggravating T-dolls you need to make up with for that mission you mentioned earlier?"

"...Yeah."

"Here's a little tip. You want to get on 416's good side? Ditch the M16. She particularly hates it."

There's more to this. I can tell there's more to this, but I have the feeling pressing further would be unwise.

"So!" She stands up abruptly, swaying slightly. "Time for bed."

"Ah, I guess." It's only about 2000, but I guess there's no real reason to stay up late tonight. "Which corner do I get?" I try to inject some levity back into the conversation.

"There's a bed further inside. Pretty clean too, for being abandoned for a few years." M16 tells me. "Need me to carry you?"

"No, I'll be fine-"

Ignoring my words, she once agains scoops me up, this time in her arms like a groom on his wedding day. This is the third time I've been princess carried in as many days, and it's starting to get old. "M16, put me down, I can walk."

"Nonsense, it's just over here-"

She pushes on a door with her foot, opening to reveal a bed surrounded by liquor bottles. Most of them are empty. On a chair in the corner is a black skirt that's suspiciously identical to the one she's wearing.

"Wait, this is your room?" I say, looking around. "No, I can't take your room. I'll sleep somewhere else."

"Hey." She sets me down on the bed so I'm sitting facing the door. "Don't worry about it. I'm just using this room for the moment too. We only got here last night."

"I guess." I look around again in the dim light and see more debris thrown around. Some of it's spare clothes, some more bottles, and a few boxes of ammo. It doesn't look like she's only been here one night, but I guess she's just a messy kind of person.

I carefully move from where I'm sitting and l pull my leg onto the bed. M16 was right, it isn't that bad for being abandoned for a few years-

M16 sits down on the bed herself, stripping off her skirt in one smooth motion, then rapidly unbuttoning her shirt.

"Hey, HEY!" I shout sitting back up. "What are you doing?!"

"Hmm?" She gives me a puzzled look. "I have to sleep too."

"I… what." I realize she's grinning in my direction again.

"Aw, are you embarrassed?"

"Whatever." I lie back down and turn to face the wall.

I try my best to ignore her as she lies down and yawns. "Well, tomorrows gonna be a long day. Rest up."

Yeah, right.

"Hey. Hey. HEY."

Someone pokes my injured shoulder and suddenly I'm wide awake and in a lot of pain. "Ow, who the fuck-"

In the light of the moon, I can make out Architect's purple-red eyes looking down at me, otherwise a silhouette against the ceiling. If I hadn't met Sop or AK-12, her eyes would be scary. As it stands…

"What do you want?" I groan out.

"Explosions."

I stare up at her serious face for a good fifteen seconds.

"I want explosions." She repeats.

"Is that supposed to be a euphemism, or…?"

"A youfa what? No. I want to explode some things, and you're pretty good at attracting explosions, so I'm going to fix you up."

"...Huh?"

"I think I might have found something that can fix you up." She says. "In return, I want to blow some things up with you."

"...Are you sure this isn't a euphemism?"

"I still don't know what that is." She taps her foot impatiently. "So, you wanna get your leg fixed or not?"

"I- Sure, why not?" I say sarcastically. "It's what, three in the morning? Perfect time to go looking for explosions."

"Exactly." She clearly doesn't catch the sarcasm. "Anyway, I brought your crutches from the lobby. Let's get going before M16 wakes up."

I glance at my half naked bedmate. She's down to boxers and a tank top, gently snoring. One of her arms has grabbed a fistful of my shirt in her sleep.

"She… drank enough to knock out a horse. She won't wake up." I mutter to myself to try and reassure myself that this isn't completely stupid. I glance at my phone to confirm that it is indeed 0314 and grudgingly attempt to sit up.

It doesn't go that well. I keep forgetting that T-dolls have insane grip, and her fist holds my shirt tight enough that I'm trapped. She'd probably tear the fabric before letting go.

"What's going on?" Architect asks after I flop back down.

"She's got a hold on my shirt." I respond. "She's a lot stronger than me."

Architect sighs. "Just take off your shirt then."

"But-"

"Just do it! We're on the clock!"

I squirm around, tugging the shirt off and trying not to aggravate my shoulder while doing so. After a minute of struggling I have it off and am able to climb over M16 awkwardly. Well, she's certainly a heavy sleeper. I don't think anyone else I know could sleep through that much noise and movement.

Architect hands me my crutches as I gently set my feet on the floor. "Alright, follow me."

"Can I put on a shirt?" I ask as she turns to leave.

"No time." She walks out the door and I'm left to my own devices.

Well screw you. I grab my backpack, pull a spare shirt from it, shrug it on and throw my tac vest over it. I check my pistol is loaded as well before clumping down the hall after Architect. I elected to leave my backpack behind, but most of the immediately useful stuff's in the tac vest anyway.

I kinda wish I had my radio. I keep ducking my chin to try to feel the throat microphone I had been wearing so often these last few weeks. It'd be nice to talk to Star right about now. Or P90. Hell, I'd even take 9 at this point. Someone sane to talk to, who's not explicitly hostile towards me.

Architect is waiting for me in the main lobby where the fire is. "What took you so long?" She complains.

"I'm not walking around outside shirtless in March." I fire back. " I don't know what we're doing. Can you give me an explanation so I'm not doing whatever we're doing blind?"

"Fine, but let's get moving. I'll tell you on the way."

I put my crutches back into motion, having to spend considerable effort to keep up with her pace.

"Okay, so, you are an explosion magnet." Architect finally starts her explanation with something stupid. "And I figured, if you're up and able to attract explosions, I can get to see them and even make a few of my own."

"..."

"But, humans take so long to repair. I asked Gager and she said it could be weeks! But I've heard that Paradeus has this stuff that fixes your bones up really fast. We're gonna go swipe some of that stuff so when we do our mission in the morning, you're ready to attract those explosions."

Okay, Architect is certifiably off her rocker.

Then again, so is SOPMOD. Sometimes. I can certainly imagine her waking me up in the middle of the night to drag me out to modify something. Or, just ripping my intestines out.

...I need new friends.

In any case, I follow Architect outside and into the forest a little bit before I realize where we're headed.

"You're late." Beak is straddling her motorcycle, arms crossed on the handlebars. "I almost left without you."

"You don't even know where we're going." Architect shoots back. "And if you did, what do you think you'd accomplish?"

"I'd get to go out riding, that's what." Beak snaps back. "Let's just go already. I want to be back before M16 knows we're gone. I'm not looking forward to a lecture if she figures out we left."

"Alright." Architect frowns. "Wait, can we all fit on the bike?"

"Someone needs to ride in the trailer." Beak curls her lip. "I hate dragging it around, but it's better than having two riders on the back."

Architect looks down at the package her current body was in, still loaded onto the trailer. "This isn't fair…"

I hop on the back, gripping the side rails beside my seat to keep my balance. Architect grabs my crutches before lying down in her glass coffin, grumbling too quietly to hear.

"Oh, don't be a bitch." Beak rolls her eyes. "Just grab my waist like a normal rider."

"If you say so." I reluctantly wrap my arms around her surprisingly soft stomach.

...What is wrong with me today? I think M16's teasing threw me off.

We take off, the motorcycle raging through the otherwise quiet forest. Beak navigates with skill, dodging the trees easily despite her ever increasing speed. I manage to peek at the speedometer once and see we're going 60 kilometers an hour.

In a forest.

After that, I closed my eyes and just prayed we wouldn't get into a crash.

It's maybe fifteen minutes later when Beak finally slows down and stops weaving so I feel like I'm able to open my eyes again.

In front of us, illuminated in the moonlight…

"Did we circle back around?" I ask. We're at a nondescript concrete building that could pass for the one we just left, about four stories tall and imposing in the moonlight.

"No, you numbskull. Paradeus was using this place a while back, but they left pretty quickly. We were monitoring them and they left a bunch of crap behind."

Architect climbs out of her coffin and brings my crutches back to me. "I think that it was because M16 caused a stir in Sector 3?"

I pause, halfway between setting up my crutches to support my weight as I climb off the bike. "What?"

"Yeah, M16 was in Sector 3 for some reason." Beak shrugs. "Didn't tell us what, but Gager didn't care, so I don't care either."

"In any case, we're going to grab some of their stuff." Architect says with glee. "They probably have all kinds of explosives…"

"I thought we were here for… something to patch me up?" I remind her.

"Eh, I guess we can look for that too."

I'm already regretting this decision to tag along.

"I'll keep watch out here." Beak yawns. "Tell me when the boring part is over."

"Yeah, yeah." Architect waves dismissively. "Come on, Grif."

"My name's-"

"We're going!" Architect says loudly.

Well, I hope nobody's home, because otherwise she just alerted whoever's around. Architect doesn't seem to have an indoor voice.

Once again, I lament my inability to wield a firearm with my crutches. The building looks fairly uninviting, the door a heavy metal thing that's slightly ajar. I do make sure to stop and strap my goggles to my head, adjusting the strap to make sure it stays on properly if anything happens.

Architect plows on ahead like nothing's amiss, no stealth at all. UMP 45 would be annoyed, and I become irritated with myself for agreeing with her.

"Huh, looks like the medical wing and the armory are in the same direction. Convenient."

"...This doesn't look like a temporary base." I look around at the walls that have been painted recently enough to not be discolored, the signs indicating what facilities are where, and even an empty guard station.

"Like I said, they all cleared out like two days ago." Architect says. "Oh, look! The armory!" She turns to me. "You go to the medical place, I'll be here grabbing some new toys."

"I… yeah, sure, whatever." I turn and continue down the corridor.

The infirmary ends up being only a few doors down from the armory. Unlike Architect, I don't go blundering in blindly, instead, cautiously opening the door and slowly edging it open to see what's inside.

It looks like a stereotypical lab, vials of random chemicals everywhere, two microscopes, and some other vials and glassware used to contain chemical processes. Off to one side, there's a few beds set up with curtains for privacy. Though, a quick glance reveals that there's some leather cuffs for keeping a patient in place, and that gives me the creeps.

"I wish Architect had told me what the stuff looks like, or what it was called." I start rifling through the cabinets, looking for something labeled "healing juice" or maybe "Magic bone un-breaker" or something.

I don't end up finding anything like that, but I do find other interesting things.

When I walk farther into the room, I notice there's a whole section that was hidden from view since the room is "L" shaped. In that branch of the L, there's a whole bunch of computers and paperwork. Whatever they were doing here is super important, at least to them.

Mental note, grab a data storage device for all future missions. Rip all data of all computers.

On one wall is a large whiteboard with several small plastic baggies containing pills held on with magnets. There's chemical formulas and text written on the whiteboard, but… it's in Russian. The chemical formulas might as well be an alien language given how little I understand of the diagrams. There's one of the bags circled a few times in red, but I have no idea if the circles mean it's good or not.

Hesitantly, I grab the bag and look at the small white pill. It's got no text on it that can be seen through the goggles, which isn't surprising since this isn't a mass-market pill, no matter what it is.

Two decades of being told not to swallow things I don't know what they are, along with my apprehension keeps the pills from my mouth.

'This is super sketchy." I say out loud, my voice piercing through the oppressive silence. "I'll just go back and tell Architect that I can't find the crap." I set the baggie of pills on the desk with the computer and turn around.

Hmm?

Across the room near the beds, some papers flutter across the floor, as if a passing breeze had disturbed them.

I freeze in place, straining my ears. Aside from those papers, the room is immaculate. It's not like a vent has been repeatedly dumping paper on the floor and it can't have been me passing.

"...Architect?" I call quietly. Please be the Sangvis doll, please please please…

No response. I gulp down my saliva and carefully consider my options.

I could try to run and hope whatever's in here with me isn't interested in chasing me. I could pull out my gun, try to kill whatever it is, and pray it's softer than my usual targets. Or I could stand here like an idiot while whoever it is sneaks up on me.

Someone presses something cold and kind of circular into my back. I don't even bother pretending it could be something other than a gun.

"Don't move." An older man's voice says right next to my ear. "Don't yell, don't even blink without my say so. Understood?"

I nod slowly.

"Good." He steps around me and I recognized him easily. Anisim, the man the old mayor was going to give Sector 3 to. I watch him walk around me, examining me, and I realize something.

His eyes glow slightly in the false illumination of the goggles and the lights are still off in the room. He can see in the dark, so he's not a human. Or, maybe he's just an augmented human. No way to tell, really. As he paces around me, his weapon remains trained on my chest.

"I know you." He says suddenly. "You're the kid we were hunting down in Sector 3." He continues circling around, moving out of sight. "I saw the news. Impressive how you managed to take out one of our Uhlans as well, I would have thought it was impossible with the limited forces G&K were able to move into the city."

I remain quiet. No reason to aggravate him.

"This time though, you're weak and have no backup." He muses, as if talking to himself. "I wonder where they went?" He comes back into view, an evil smile that could rival UMP 45's revealing itself. "Did they all abandon you, again? It's such a shame, recently it's been so easy to buy loyalty."

I bite my tongue. I really want to snap at him, but he's still aiming the gun at me.

"Well… if nobody else is going to claim you, I think I have a use for you." He gestures with his gun. "Move towards the beds. Slowly. You bang your cripple sticks around or reach for anything, I put a round in your skull."

The barrel of his weapon is rock steady, I take a breath to calm myself before slowly, ever so slowly, swing the crutches forwards, and set them down on the tile floor gently. One step. I move the crutches again. Two steps.

"Ah, it seems like you aren't alone, there's someone else in the building." He taps his ear and I realize he has an earpiece like the one M16 took from me. "Too bad, though. Your friends aren't going to last long against my forces."

I continue moving slowly but steadily towards the beds. Some part of my brain is currently mocking me about getting captured away from my first set of kidnappers, but the rest of it is busy trying to tell me not to get shot.

I make it to the side of the bed as the first explosion goes off. It sounds like it's outside and I wonder what exactly is going on. For a brief moment I consider if I should feel bad for the Sangvis units before Anisim jams his gun into my side hard enough from me to lose my balance and topple onto the bed.

I dropped my crutches and he kicks them away. More explosions come from outside, masking any noises I could have possibly made and looks like he knows it too.

"So, Hadwin, are you a man of science?" Even as he asks the question he grabs my right arm and irrespective of the sharp pain in my shoulder and my hiss of pain wraps a leather strap around my arm.

I realized just how bad a situation I was in right there. With only one good leg and one free arm though, he quickly manages to strap the rest of me down.

Before I can try yelling, he grabs a small towel and stuffs it into my mouth, forcing it to stay open and muffling any sounds I try to make.

"Now, I've been wanting to try this for a while." He says conversationally, his words punctuated by another explosion rocking the building. "See, we developed a drug that tells the body to go into overdrive, and it mends injuries at a rapid pace that's unprecedented." He sets a syringe full of a clear liquid onto a tray. "There's just one small problem; rapid cellular growth means occasionally cancer forms, and when too much of the stuff is in your system, your entire body starts to subdivide. Quite fascinating to watch."

He walks away and comes back with the baggie of pills I had set down on the computer desk. "These, on the other hand, are designed to tell your body to start killing anything out of the ordinary. It's basically a temporary auto-immune disease. Very handy for clearing out cancers, as luck would have it." He sighs heavily. "Of course nobody would let me try it out on them, mostly lab rats and the odd ELID someone caught, just to see the effects. But there's just nothing like a human trial."

He picks the syringe back up. "See this mark? That's one dose. You'll note that there's ten times the recommended dose in the syringe and all of that is going into you. Then, I'm going to give you a few doses of the deconstructor, and we'll see which one wins!" He claps excitedly.

I can't exactly struggle as he stabs the needle into my arm. Immediately, the area begins to swell and I can feel my body starting to heat up. It feels like someone stuffed every cell full of fire and it spreads around rapidly. As it reaches my shoulder, my legs, and the other small injuries I have accrued lately, the fire burns even hotter.

Then, the good doctor forcibly opens my mouth, ripping out the towel and dumping a glass of water and some small pills in before pinching my nose to force me to swallow. This set of pills doesn't change anything noticeably, and it certainly doesn't have the effect of cooling me down.

It's only been a few seconds and already I feel like I'm soaking in sweat.

"Now, one more thing." He leans over the bed so I can see his evil smile through the NVGs. He brings over a tube of gas and a breathing mask. "I'm sure this is quite stressful, so I'll do you a favor and knock you out."

He straps the mask around my ears, removing my NVGs, and with a hiss, gas starts pumping into my mouth and nose.

The last thing I notice before losing consciousness is another explosion rocking the building indicating the battle is still being fought...

Coming out of anesthesia isn't fun.

Things come back in bits and pieces and I hardly recognize where I am at first.

I don't even know how long I sat there looking at my hand in wonder before realizing that I'm actually in a really bad position here.

I mean, the fact that I can look at my hand is good. Last I remember, it was tied up. Oh, and I'm sitting up.

Not quite sure when that happened.

Things seem to be moving around when I'm not looking at them, like ghosts are pushing things around and dropping rocks around.

...Not rocks. Concrete. I watch some more of it fall from the ceiling and crack the bed beside mine in two. No ghosts either, I just keep losing track of everything that keeps moving.

I should probably leave.

I climb off the bed, only to trip over something in my way.

It takes me a few seconds to realize I had fallen over. My foot hurts for a few seconds before heating up, then suddenly returning to what I guess normal feels like.

I guess the drug isn't out of my body yet. At least, not the healing one.

By the time I stand up, the debris around me is swimming around. It takes me what feels like multiple minutes of standing around as more explosions rock the building and debris falls to realize it's my vision.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I know there's something wrong with me, but the majority of my functioning faculties are focused on not getting crushed, and not doing a very good job of it to boot.

It's only once another chunk of debris crushes the bed that my addled brain realizes I really should get moving.

As carefully as I can with everything swimming and my muscles feeling like jello, I navigate the tiny corridors formed by the debris, trying to get around it and to the door to the room. The old concrete is continuing to crumble down and pile up. I suppose I should be glad the medical room is on the first floor, or I could have fallen from one of the higher floors.

Then again, I was almost crushed by those same floors. I briefly wonder if I'm starting to be nonplussed by collapsing buildings, but when the doorframe crumbles and the door screeches as it is bent out of place, I remember the fear. I scramble through before the doorway has the chance to collapse entirely.

It's only once I'm in the corridor, which seems to be a lot sturdier than the adjacent room structurally, that I realize something important.

I don't need the crutches. I didn't even think to try to use them to escape the room, although they're probably buried under some concrete back in the room.

I roll up my pant leg and grimace. My right leg certainly doesn't hurt at the moment, but it looks like someone had inflated the skin around my shin bone by a few centimeters. I tap the bulge and find that it's rock hard.

Given what Anisim had said, it's likely some kind of out-of-control cancer. Once again, I catch myself panicking and force myself to calm down. One thing at a time, I have to survive here and now to live to worry about the future me.

Blearily, I think back and remember that I can follow the red line back to the entrance of the building. I stumble in that direction, leaning on the wall for support.

The entrance is thankfully unblocked and I manage to make it to the entrance without falling over. I don't make it past the entrance before I can catch sight of the battle before me.

Outside, Paradeus and Sangvis forces are busy blowing each other up. I can't see Architect or Beak at first, instead watching the smaller units charge en masse at the Paradeus ranks. Sure the Paradeus Strelets can take down a few Sangvis units each, but there's hundreds of Dinergates charging into the clearing along with other units I don't know the names of, especially the flying Sangvis units.

It's a fascinating picture and I have just enough brain cells active in my head to realize I stand no chance if I wander out there.

I slump down against the wall as I watch, my legs giving out as I watch the battle, swarms of Sangvis units rushing blindly towards the Strelets, overwhelming the Paradeus troops that move forward towards the building.

Then Beak appears with her motorcycle.

The twin laser machine guns on the front rip through the Paradeus ranks as she jets around the clearing, maneuvering her bike deftly through the piling mounds of corpses. It's a thing of beauty to watch, the bike almost an extension of herself as she whips it around and fires her gatling laser weapons at the approaching Paradeus units.

Sangvis forces are pouring out of the edge of the forest from the direction we came from, and Paradeus from the other, converging in front of the building just to start decimating each other there.

As I continue to watch, a tree and several surrounding Paradeus troops are engulfed by a fireball that shakes the entire area. Tracing the missile's path back, I find Architect poking herself out of the third floor window, already loading a new missile into her launcher thing.

I take a deep breath. Honestly, sitting here isn't the best idea. I'm likely to get shot by Paradeus or Sangvis, I don't know which, but there's a lot of laser fire back and forth.

It's only once I try to stand up that I realize my body isn't exactly responding to my commands at the moment. I flop over, my leg refusing to move out from under me. I manage to throw an arm out in front of me so I don't faceplant, but I don't exactly come out of it unscathed, hands scraped to hell on the concrete pad.

Once again, the injury heats up and I watch the flesh start to visibly boil in a sickening manner. I close my eyes and wait for the pain and heat to go away. It takes far longer than I thought it should, the laserfire blasting back and forth a constant background noise that I'm forced to ignore while praying to not get shot.

When I finally open my eyes back up, the first thing I see is two Strelets looking down at me, aiming a laser rifle at my head.

In a blind panic, I roll to the side, and the Strelet fires where I had been lying a moment earlier. They clearly weren't expecting me to move and they both react slowly to my dodge.

While they're still recovering from the surprise, I manage to draw my USP out of my vest and draw a bead on them even from my position on the floor.

BANG BANG

Something I didn't consider until too late is that Laser weapons make high pitched whines as the weapons wind up, but nothing outside of that. They're slinging plasma, not lead. Comparably, my guns are loud. On this particular battlefield, that means I'm the loudest thing after Architect's explosions.

As a consequence, when the two Strelets fall and clear my line of sight the rest of the battlefield comes into view, every combatant looking at me.

"Aw, fuck."

Beak's bike roars, and she drives to the door, fishtailing to point the guns outwards, shooting anything in the way, Paradeus or Sangvis alike.

Architect jumps out of the window and lands beside me. "Oh hey, I thought you were dead."

I glare up at her from my position on the ground. "Almost."

"So, can we go?" Beak asks. "I think they're about to surround us."

"Good idea, let's-"

Whatever Architect was about to say is cut off by a new arrival. Crashing through the trees, a mech I had hoped not to see again. A Doppelsöldner.

Architect's eyes widen. "Let's run inside!" She yells, turning around and bolting inside.

Beak revs her bike, standing it up on it's rear wheel, only to twist it around in the air and land facing the door. I barely roll out of the way before she drives inside, a second later finally finding my feet and scrambling inside myself, chasing after the retreating bike.

I only make it a few meters inside before I get my feet tangled up underneath myself once again, sending me sprawling on the hard floor.

The cold concrete feels nice against my overheating body, and after a few seconds of internal debate, I decide to just lay there. It's really not worth it to get back up, is it? I'll just go back down.

It's not until someone picks me up and tosses me into a room before slamming the door closed.

When I manage to drag my eyes back open, I'm in the armory with Architect, Beak, and Beak's motorcycle. The walls have lots of empty spots for weapons and I can already see a lot of those weapons are currently strewn about the floor. Some of them are twisted hunks of metal, some of them look like they melted, and a few of them seem perfectly fine aside from how they were discarded.

"What took you so long?" Architect stands over me.

"That Paradeus guy, Anisim, tied me up and injected me with enough drugs to kill me." I grumble, not even bothering trying to stand up at this point.

"You don't look dead."

"I got better." I snarl. No, calm down. "I'm still a bit woozy though."

"You're also slurring." Beak comments.

Really? I can't tell.

"Well, anyway, did you find the repair stuff?" Architect asks.

"That is one of the components of the crazy cocktail of drugs in my system, yes." I close my eyes again. "I'm going back to sleep now."

"Uh, no." Beak kicks me in the ribs.

Okay, no longer sleeping. That shit hurt even through the fire burning my skin from the inside out.

"We're trapped in here, so you're going to fight with us." Architect says.

"Owwww."

Architect looks at Beak. "Kick him again."

"No!" I yell. "For fuck's sake, I can barely see straight. Give me a minute to catch my breath."

"Hmm." They turn away from me. "So what are we gonna do?" Architect asks Beak.

"Well, I think we should try to break through their ranks. If we go fast enough, we can probably find a good hole to make a break for it."

"Hmm… Maybe." Architect frowns, deep in thought. "But, maybe there won't be a hole."

"There will be one." Beaks says. "Probably."

Architect rolls her eyes. "You know, I can just make a hole. I have this!" She proudly hefts her bulky weapon.

"Yeah… Yeah!" Beak grins. "You can blow a hole in the enemy, then I'll race through it on my bike."

"Wait, I want to be on the back! That way we can blow up all of them!"

The two Sangvis dolls look at each other, smiling. "Let's do it!"

"..." I sit on the floor, staring at the two in wonder. "Uh… Doppelsöldner?"

"Yeah, one shot with this baby and it'll be gone." Architect says.

"But, it has shields." I say. "How are you getting around those?"

"I'll drive circles around it!" Beak sneers at me. "They're much slower than I am!"

"...That's not a plan." I tell them. "That's hardly an outline."

"What do you know?" Architect blows me off. "You're just a human, even if you attract explosions. You don't know the true power of a Sangvis doll."

"What-"

Beak and Architect climb onto the former's bike and Beak turns it on. It's really loud in the narrow space. Before I can protest further, the bike rips out of the armory, leaving the choking scent of burnt rubber filling the space.

I stumble out, trying to get some decent air into my lungs. My body is still not operating properly, so I stagger over to the receptionist table to collapse into the seat.

At first, I think the chair fabric is wet, but I quickly realize that it's just the copious amounts of sweat leaving my body. Something in my body isn't responding properly, that's for sure. Who knows what other effects this concoction of drugs is doing to me.

Speaking of which-

I pull up the pants on my right leg. The lump is still there, obviously, but it hasn't grown. That's good.

My brain is still a bit fuzzy, so I try to stay calm as rapid-fire explosions come from outside, mentally taking inventory.

My leg is healed. That's good, I can move a lot more easily. My leg has a lump on it. This is bad, it's probably cancerous. At minimum, it needs to be removed. Good: I can't feel any pain in my body. Bad: I can't see if my shoulder is as bad as my leg. Also bad: I'm sweating so much water, I'm probably dehydrated. And, I'm constantly feeling waves of heat wash over me. And…

I glance up as the motorcycle rips past the entrance to the building, the Doppelsöldner, of course, rotating to face it, carefully drawing it's cannon through the arc the motorcycle is traveling.

...And, I'm stuck in an enemy base, with what I'm slowly realizing are two complete idiots. Even with how little I've been in real combat, I still at least try to think things through a little bit before I charge head first into combat. Mostly.

"How did they think that was going to go?" I ask nobody in particular.

"I've seen stranger things." A voice calls out.

I slap my hand to my chest, grabbing the grip of my pistol and swinging around in the swivel chair to face the owner of the voice.

I end up leaving the weapon holstered as I find the smug face on the screen behind me.

"Anisim."

"That would be me, yes."

"Not gonna come back to see how your science project went?" I sneer.

"Well, I fully expected you to expire quickly. I also pumped you full of laughing gas, so you should have been knocked out for a few hours at least." He rubs his chin. "I wonder..."

"How long has it been?" I ask.

"Only about half an hour. It's quite fascinating- AH!" He slams his fist into his hand. "The regrowth formula has stimulants in it. It probably excited your brain and tried to 'repair' the medication inducing unconsciousness."

I look back at my leg, which is still visible. Half an hour and it did that?

"In any case, I assumed you'd be crushed under your friends' barrage. Quite… interesting company you keep."

"Eh." I sigh. "Those ones are my kidnappers, my normal friends are slightly less stupid. Usually." I glance to the side and mutter. "If you ignore SOPMOD."

"I see, I see. You were at the summit in Sector 3, I should remember you're with those bastards." Anisim never loses his placid smile. "Did they decide to throw you out like all of the other trash?"

"Nah, I just got caught up in a disagreement with another of your recent hires." I sneer back. "Next time, don't have them just stand aside."

"Yes, I agree. Sadly, after I sent them the sum, 404 told me they would refuse future work from me, something about conflicts of interest. Disappointing, really, they're such good operatives." His smile dims and suddenly it feels like he's evaluating me. "Well, now that I think about it, right in front of me is someone who has proven to be exceptionally hardy. We could use someone like you on the battlefield."

"...Are you seriously trying to recruit me? You tried to overthrow my city like yesterday."

"We did it to bring stability to Sector 3." Anisim shrugs casually.

"Yeah… stability. Like shooting the mayor in front of a crowd of people."

"That was your fault. If you weren't nosing around, I wouldn't have had to shoot him."

I stare at him. He's either really good at acting or he truly believes his own bullshit. "No, I'm good."

"Fair enough. Figured I'd try."

An explosion rocks the building as one of Architect's shots goes wide. I'm almost knocked out of my seat as the building shakes, and much to my personal delight, so is Anisim.

Wait. He just got knocked out of his chair by the same explosion… "You're still in this building." I say even as I come to the realization.

"Oh? Well, you're certainly a lot more aware than you should be with all of the stuff I put into your system." He sighs. "I guess I'll have to take my leave. Have fun with the new units I'm sending your way."

The feed goes dead.

Fuck. FUCK!

I get up out of the chair and head for the front door. I feel a bit better now and I manage to make it without tripping.

Once in the door frame, I look around for Architect and Beak. It's not hard. The motorbike is still circling the Doppelsöldner and Architect is still firing her missiles uselessly at the shields.

It's been a few minutes, I think. Why haven't they tried to change tactics?

"What the hell is wrong with Sangvis dolls?" I grumble. I draw my weapon and prepare to get their attention, by force if necessary, but I notice something at the edge of the new clearing made by Architect's weapon.

Three glowing eyes. One pair and one individual.

As the owners come into view, illuminated by the light of the explosions being liberally dispensed, it's clearly M16 and Gager. For a brief moment I try to figure out if I'd rather see the three eyes belonging to another set of T-dolls, but decide to take what I've been given.

I wave and M16 nods sharply before flicking her hand towards the building. Get inside.

I turn back around.

I could sit down and wait for M16 to get here. Or maybe just wait until they blow up the Doppelsöldner, then go out and help with the cleanup.

Alternatively…

I draw my pistol and start heading down the hallways.

Anisim is somewhere in here and I'm not quite sure I think he should still be allowed to exist.

It's only once I'm heading down the corridor that I realize I don't have something important.

I left my NVGs in the infirmary. Anisim took them off of me, and I just left them behind to get crushed! I saw the bed buckle under the roof collapsing, so there's no likelihood of me recovering them. UMP 45 told me they were fragile, too...

Now that I think about it… how come I wasn't still restrained? I check my arms reflexively, but it's not like I magically ripped through the straps holding me down while I was still cuffed.

Someone freed me from the bed.

Who though?

Well, no point wondering about it. I pull my flashlight from one of my tac vest's pockets and turn it on, the LED beam illuminating the hallway nicely. With that, I begin my unsteady march into the bowels of the building.

For some reason, I recall that first building I had assaulted with 404. In that after-action report 404 had drafted, there had been an underground exit the Paradeus people had used when we took it for ourselves. It's pretty likely this place would have something like that, right?

Okay, with the entrance behind me, the center of the building is… that way. I do my best to get my bearings straight and try to generate a mental map as I trudge through the facility.

All of the explosions that had hit the building are starting to take their toll on the reinforced hallways and I find myself walking around debris in the main hallway. Some of the rooms are completely caved in, including some interesting rooms like "Server room C" and "Mess hall B".

It's only once I come to a dead end, the hallway completely barricaded by a collapsed roof, that I decide maybe this could be a fruitless venture.

The rooms to either side seem intact though, so I carefully move inside the one on the right, checking to see if there's any more doors leading further inside.

I barely get through before a booming voice yells from way down the hall.

"GRIF!"

Uh oh. M16's mad.

"WHAT!" I yell back.

"GET OUT OF THERE!"

"NO! I NEED TO GET ANISIM!"

A pause.

"HE'S HERE?"

"YEAH!"

"SO? THE BUILDING'S ABOUT TO COLLAPSE!" She hollers. "MAYBE COME BACK!"

Oh.

Shit.

I turn and run. Fuck this. As I tear down the hallway, flashlight bobbing wildly, M16 appears before me. In one smooth motion she grabs me, flips me over her shoulder, and spirints for the exit.

As we clear the entrance, I can see that the Doppelsöldner is dead, armor plating cracked and leaking fluids. Gager sits atop the corpse, her crossbow glowing with several energy beams poking out of the ends.

As I watch, she cleaves the weapon around and cuts off the still twitching missile pods.

Okay, maybe it's not a crossbow.

The rest of the Paradeus units in the area are also dead, some with melting hulls and some with bullet holes.

Architect and Beak are looking like petulant children sitting down on a crumbling concrete wall, crossing their arms and pouting.

M16 drops me on the ground, carefully, before turning back around. I also look at the building we had just vacated as it continues to crumble, the top floor already mostly gone and the lower floors steadily cracking as the old frame finally gives up.

It's a good thirty seconds more before the building collapses, the entire time, my eyes are watching it crumble down, the entrance getting blocked by rubble sealing the interior off.

I sigh and let myself flop backwards. My stomach is starting to seriously hurt and I want to go back to sleep. I'm starting to notice a pattern too, if I get woken up after midnight, but before the sun comes up, I'm bound to be exhausted before the sun comes up.

I really should start taking naps whenever I have the opportunity.

"Hey." M16 looms over me. Clearly not happy.

"Hey." I close my eyes. So… tired…

"Okay, you can't go to sleep." M16 grabs my shirt and shakes me. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"We found him strapped to a bed in the medical ward after he went wandering off." Architect provides. "I slapped him a few times, but he didn't wake up for a while. When he did, he wasn't even talking that well."

That solves the issue of who probably untied me.

M16 glares at her fellow Sangvis and turns back to me. "Drugs?"

I nod. "Pumped me full of some healing thing and some… other thing to counteract it. Then he knocked me out with some gas."

"Shit." M16 starts tapping various parts of my body, stopping when she gets to my leg. "What's this lump?"

"I don't know." I shake my head. "It wasn't there earlier."

M16 turns to the other members of her group, and I notice Gager has both Architect and Beak suspended in the air with an arm each, and both of them look like they're about to cry. "Okay, we need to move before anything nastier than that Doppelsöldner comes after us."

"Agreed." Gager's voice is cold. "It would be nice if we had some form of transportation."

"I said I was sorry." Beak grumbles, tears still in her eyes. "It's not my fault the Doppelsöldner blew it up."

"Actually," Gager sets the two down, but doesn't release them, instead dragging Beak closer to her glare. "I don't remember authorizing a night raid on the Paradeus base we were supposed to be avoiding. I don't recall saying that we could risk our only mode of transport on doing so. I don't recall approving your request to raid the armory of the nearest Paradeus base either." This last comment is aimed towards Architect. "So I think all of this is your fault."

"But-"

"Next time you step out of line, either of you, I'll shoot you myself."

"...Fine."

"Okay."

Gager lets both of them go and they stagger away, glaring at the cold doll.

"Can you stand?" M16 asks me.

I nod and climb to my feet, slightly unsteady on the ground that's been shredded to bits, but I'm up. Belatedly, I realize I still have the pistol in one of my hands and the flashlight in the other. I tuck the pistol away and grip the flashlight in my right hand so I can aim it more easily.

M16 hands me my backpack once she checks I'm upright. "You left this behind."

As I shrug it on, I look at her. "Thank you for the assistance."

"Well…" She scratches her head. "I'm not exactly the kind of girl who'd let someone die just like that." She smiles sadly. "Or, I wasn't."

"How did you know where we were?"

"Oh, that's easy." M16 grins and leans in. "You made enough noise when leaving that some of the patrolling Dinergates over a kilometer away picked up Architect's yelling. I'm not a heavy enough sleeper to sleep through that. I don't think it's possible to be that out of it."

"Ah."

"As for where you went… it's not hard to figure it out when your subordinate asks you ten times an hour to go somewhere and you keep saying no, and then they suddenly stop after a while. Kinda suspicious."

"Yeah…"

"What I do want to know is, why did you go with them?" She raises an eyebrow.

"I…" I quickly look around to make sure they're not within earshot. "I didn't realize how stupid they were?"

"Yeah." M16 sighs. "Sangvis has a problem with brainlets."

Unlike me, M16 talks at normal volume. Beak turns around on the spot and yells "HEY!"

"In any case, it looks like you found a dose of Paradeus' wonder drug." She frowns. "I heard it has some pretty nasty side effects."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to do a full physical exam when I get back to human civilization." I say before realizing I'm still technically a prisoner. Or something.

"Probably, but before that… are you hungry?"

Now that she mentions it-

My stomach growls on cue.

"Yeah, that crap tells your body to practically cannibalize itself to heal you up. You probably lost a few kilos of fat just there." M16 says. "And you smell like you just finished a workout in the desert."

"Well, I was strapped to a bed, fed ten times the normal dose, and then something else to counteract it. Right now, I'm just glad I'm not dead." I say.

"You should eat. Got rations, water?"

"Uh…"

We both unload the backpack and recover some rations. I can't sit down and wait for water to heat up, so I resign myself to cold food.

We start moving even as I try opening the MRE, as Gager had indicated some more Paradeus units were on their way.

On the plus side, I can use both hands to open the food since as I started tearing open the packaging the sun finally started poking itself over the edge of the horizon, meaning I didn't have to use the flashlight.

Once I start downing the food, I quickly realize that the pain in my stomach earlier was just extreme hunger pangs. I didn't realize it until I wasn't hopped up on adrenaline any longer, but when I felt it, it hit like a brick.

Eventually, I finish my food and put the trash into a bag included in the MRE and stuff it back in my pack. Once I'm done, I turn to M16. "So, where are we going?"

"Well, there's a reason we're in the area." M16 tell me. "Not going to say what it is yet, but let's just say it's not going to be something you'd object to."

"I mean, I object to you kidnapping me, so I feel like that boat sailed."

She chuckles. "Well, you have a fixed leg now. You could make a break for it."

"And have you shoot me in the back? No thanks." I snort. "I'm gonna look you in the eye when you decide to put me down, thank you very much."

"When, huh? Not if?"

"I mean, we're enemies. Technically." I point out the obvious. "I figure it's a matter of time."

"Well… I was going to let you go, but if you insist-" Her grin gives away that she's clearly joking.

I blow air out of my lips in mock derision. "Well, since I am now a freak of science with all these crazy chemicals, you'd be putting me out of my misery."

"Hey, M16." Beak leans in interrupting our banter. "If we're going to kill him, can I be the one to do it? I've not gotten to kill a human yet."

M16 gives her subordinate a glare and Beak blinks a few times before turning around and heading back to Architect to continue to complain about her bike.

"So…" I say. "Thanks for coming to save us. I appreciate it."

M16 reaches over and ruffles my hair. "Don't worry about it. If you're a friend of my sisters, then… I'm a lot less likely to kill you." She finishes oddly, but somehow it really fits her. "Just don't do anything weird to them or I'll have to kill you for real."

"Right." Her last bit was serious. "Erm, what exactly constitutes weird? You know, for future reference."

"Oh, you know. Try not to hurt them. Emotionally or physically." She leans in. "This includes breaking their hearts. Don't get too close to them."

"Uhh… Yeah. Got it." I shudder. "I will try to keep my distance."

M16's eye narrows as she examines me. "You're not close to any of them already, are you?"

"No." I say, probably a little too quickly.

"Oh, well… Then in that case, you better not do anything stupid like ditching them." She gives me the hardest glare I've seen from that eye. "I have my ways of watching over them and if you so much as touch a hair on their heads-"

"M16, what are you doing? We're leaving you behind!" Architect whines from about ten meters ahead. "Keep up!"

M16's coldness drops off her face. "Well, that's probably not gonna be an issue. Let's keep going."

I gulp and nod. Mental note, do not attempt to make a move on anyone from Anti-Rain.

Which means I need to figure out what to do about AR-15-

"Wait a second." I suddenly come to a realization. "Architect and Beak said you were in Sector 3. You were watching over them."

"Ah… well, I needed to find out if you were doing anything weird-"

"So, you were watching. You'd know if anything was happening."

"Well… mostly. I had to leave the previous night because… reasons." She looks uncomfortable. "I'm not exactly stealthy and there were a lot of police out…"

Previous night? Police?

"It was you." I state. "On the rooftops. When Paradeus was trying to capture me, you distracted them."

"Possibly?" She scratches her head and looks away.

"Well… thanks." I say. "Still, why were you outside the wall instead of watching over Anti-Rain?"

"An old colleague asked for a favor." M16 says evasively. "Now, I need you to be quiet. Gager's looking this way and she's already suspicious of what I was doing in Sector 3."

"Alright." I file that away as a bargaining chip for the future.

Architect walks back to us. "Hey, you." She points to me. "I got you fixed up, so when we get to our destination, I expect you to help with the explosions."

I welcome the distraction from my previous conversations, but it takes me a full second or three to process what she's saying into anything coherent.

"Do you want me to fire a rocket launcher?" I ask the doll.

"No, I just want you to do whatever it is you do that attracts explosions." She responds. "You clearly didn't use it earlier, so I want you to use it when we go into battle next."

"..." M16 and I look at each other. M16 mouths 'just say sure' to me.

"Ssssuuuure." I drawl. "I thought you were having fun with your own explosions, but okay."

Architect smiles. "Oh yeah! This battle is going to be awesome!"

She turns and runs up to the still depressed Beak, trying fruitlessly to cheer her up with talk of explosions.

"What kind of battle am I expecting?" I ask M16.

"Have you ever fought the KCCO?" She asks.

"No." I shake my head. "M4 and RO told me it was the remnants of the Russian military, or something like that."

"Close enough. They want my boss and they're in the area to try to get at her." M16 says this part quietly so the other three don't hear. "We're going to cause a distraction to lure the KCCO away from that group."

I sigh heavily.

"What?"

I give the rogue T-doll a look. "Ever since I started working with G&K, and even before that during my first encounter with M4 and 15, I've been playing the decoy. I've blown up more buildings than I want to think about and been in several of them during the explosion to boot. I've destroyed an entire block by detonating the underground fuel reserve of a gas station and I've dropped a ten story building on my head to crush a Doppelsöldner." I cross my arms.

"I see." She looks forwards. "I'm guessing that means you don't want to play decoy?"

"No." I let my head sag to the side. "I'm telling you that you probably have the world's leading expert on being an idiot decoy in your ranks."

M16 grins. "That's a lot more comforting than you probably think."

"To you, maybe. I'm the one who's going to end up running around in front of an Uhlan waving my arms like a madman." I shake my head. "Can you at least tell me what the general situation is so I can prepare?"

"Well…" M16 frowns. "It goes like this…"