Chapter XV:

Skald's Song

A steady downpour prevented 9S from daring to look up. An endless rain that threatened to subsume the whole world with flash floods and destructive winds. The gales picked up at precisely the worst time. They were not strong enough to blow the androids and their Legion companion off their feet, but they were a struggle to defy.

Tall grass ensnared 9S from all sides. The party was forced to take an alternate path back to the coast. The area surrounding the mansion those conjoined twins resided in was swarming with infected androids. Amos killed a fair number of them, but many more came out in search of fresh flesh to eat and blood to drink. Just as Pod 153 predicted, it was far too dangerous to go back the way they came.

By no intention of their own, they wandered to the outskirts of the city ruins. The path led through a massive field of overgrown grass. The blades reached well above their heads. It was a challenge even for one as tall as Amos to get a decent view of the surrounding plain. They instead had to rely on 153's directions. She occasionally flew well above the grass to survey the landscape for movement, but each time she was nearly swept away by that immortal storm.

9S stared at the twins intently as they moved on ahead. The sisters walked side by side. He wondered if their feud was finally coming to an end. The horrid sight of those conjoined twins likely helped, but they still did not utter a word to each other. Granted, they did not speak to anyone else for quite some time.

They were at least not arguing, but that alone was not a desirable outcome. As much as 9S wanted to stick to his original plan of simply staying out of their rivalry despite how relevant he may be to it, he could no longer remain neutral. The last look the other Devola and Popola models gave him stuck in his mind. Their bleeding, separated corpses flashed before his eyes. Their last words echoed in his ears like a haunted record stuck in an everlasting loop.

His Devola and Popola deserved a better fate. The lad's heart raced at the sight of them. An unfamiliar sensation he could no longer repress. The events leading up to their journey home only caused his feelings to intensify.

A strange emotion was at the root of all this madness. One that could so easily send him on a ruthless campaign to wipe Anemone off the face of the earth without a hint of remorse. It was easy to say it was all the work of the benevolent cherubs. True to an extent, 9S could not deny their cheering from Heaven encouraged him to continue in his wanton slaughter. If only it were so simple.

Something else compelled him. Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with the cherubs yet it was no less powerful than their influence. As they walked through that quiet field, rain pelting them every step of the way, 9S was given time to contemplate it. He reflected on all the events that led to this very moment. All those memories raced through his mind just as the rain raced from the heavens above and crashed onto the earth.

At long last, he figured it out.

"Popola," he asked meekly. "Devola?"

Surprisingly, they both heard him over the sound of quaking thunder. They stopped in their tracks and simultaneously turned to face him. Their expressions were bleak and mournful. Identical frowns portrayed utter defeat after the horrors witnessed on the previous adventure. Both of the sisters appeared to have reached their mental limits. 9S was not far behind them in that regard.

He clenched Skald's Song tightly. Like a child to a stuffed animal, the sword offered some form of comfort. Its edge had dulled severely after the mercy killing. 9S remembered the point at which he first took hold of the sword. How dull it was in Devola's hands only for it to immediately sharpen itself when he claimed it. It must be just another magical property of the weapon. The logic that dictated when it decided to sharpen or dull was still a mystery to him.

9S inhaled deeply.

"I love you…"

Their expressions softened and their eyes widened in astonishment. A gradual shift in demeanor. 9S immediately averted his gaze but ultimately stood his ground. Covertly, he stabbed Skald's Song into the dirt repeatedly as if the exorcise the nervousness that threatened to overtake him.

"Uhhh…" Devola stammered. "Which one of us?"

9S stared harshly at a particular blade of grass blowing wildly in the wind yet it remained firmly rooted to the ground. He twisted Skald's Song violently as he dug the blunt sword deeper into the soil.

"I called both of your names, didn't I?"

Ironically, the first person to properly react was Amos. He produced a wretched hissing sound. His pale eyes darted to 9S in shock. The Legionnaire took a few steps away. He suddenly tapped his wrist as if pointing to a nonexistent watch. Just like that, he magically had somewhere else to be. A surprise reconnaissance mission that required him to be far… far away from these androids.

He waved goodbye, but before giving anyone a chance to question precisely where he was going, he bolted. Amos disappeared behind the sea of towering grass and he showed no signs of returning anytime soon.

153 briefly debated with herself if she should follow him or not. Getting away from this conversation was what she wanted. Unfortunately for the little drone, she was their only means of navigating back to the coast.

A horribly loud clap of thunder broke the silence. Popola lifted her head after instinctively flinching. She exchanged a glance with her sister.

"And when did this happen?"

9S shrugged. "How should I know? It just happened."

"Fair enough," said Popola. "You outright saying that means more to me than you'll probably ever know, but I still wonder. You aren't just saying this because of what happened back at…"

"Sister," Devola nagged. Normally, those roles would have been reversed. It was often Popola who ran damage control for her more blunt, ill-tempered twin.

9S ignored Devola's interjection. He finally met Popola's puzzled gaze. "It's true! But I will admit, I would've never said this if I didn't have to kill those two. I'm not just saying it out of pity or to make you feel better if that's what you think."

"I feel the same," Devola eagerly confirmed. She trailed off, not quite certain how to follow up.

Popola studied him carefully. The way she peered at 9S reminded him of the judgmental eye Amos cast upon him when they first met.

"Why would you not tell us? Surely, by now you've figured it out. We've been arguing over you this entire time."

"I figured my involvement would just cause everything to escalate."

"Escalate to what," asked Devola. Her tone grew more cynical. "It's not like we were gonna kill each other. You're not that special, ya know?"

9S forced a fleeting chuckle. "Maybe not."

He looked back to Popola. Her visage was completely unreadable.

"I just wanted you to know that. I'm not using you as No.9 probably would. At least, that wasn't my intention. I don't think you're repulsive. Quite the opposite, in fact. I already got you killed twice. I don't…"

His heart suddenly stopped. It took only a microsecond for his brain to catch up to his mouth. That last part was never meant to be spoken aloud. He gritted his teeth fearfully and glanced first to Devola then back to Popola.

That comment seemed to go completely over Devola's head. She stared back at him with a warm smile, not phased at all by what was just said. Popola, on the other hand, seemed to be paying closer attention to his words. She furrowed a brow at him but she was not given the chance to respond.

An unlikely hero came to his aid.

"Pod 153 to Units Devola and Popola. This support unit can vogue for Unit 9S's intentions. He strongly hinted at reciprocating romantic feelings for you before locating the last of Unit No.9's allies. We discussed it at the Festhall. I informed Unit 9S of the conflict between you two with hopes that he could solve the issue."

Bewildered at his pod's intervention on his behalf, he felt compelled to address her.

"Uh… Thanks, pod."

153 twirled back and gave him a knowing nod.

Popola smiled at the hovering drone. "I know. I believe you. Forgive me, but I find it difficult to deal with a situation like this. I'm much more accustomed to people spitting or throwing rocks at us. In case it wasn't obvious enough, I love you too."

"…I see."

9S trailed off. This was not at all how imagined such a conversation to unfold.

He looked about to the wall of towering grass surrounding them. It was a particularly dangerous place to be when he actually stopped to consider the dark possibilities. They were not terribly far from that hive of infected androids. If they or any hostile machines wandering around out in these fields, it would be impossible to know before it was too late.

Rain slammed against the ground. Thunder roared on high. Lightning offered him fleeting glimpses of the two twins he professed his love for only minutes ago. The wind started to pick up speed. It shoved him about as it whistled on by.

"So," he began hesitantly, ignoring the elements. "What do we do, now?"

"That's," Devola paused. She blinked at him, baffled by his question. "Now, that you mention it. I never really thought about that. What did humans do at times like these?"

9S scanned the vicinity in hopes of finding an answer. The moment he took his eyes off of the twins, he heard rapid footsteps approaching. A pair of arms wrapped around him. Popola squeezed him tightly. At least one of them apparently thought ahead. A little too tightly.

Devola was not far behind. Following her sister's lead, she ran up and embraced him. Naturally, he returned the gesture.

"Nines," Popola breathed heavily.

It may well have been the first time she used that nickname. It caught him off guard. Devola started using it immediately despite him never asking to be called by that name. Was it organic or did they somehow know of his nickname in advance?

While he never felt the need to correct them, he had a fierce dislike of the name. It sounded dumb to him. Why his previous self insisted on going by the name "Nines" would probably forever be a mystery to him.

"I hate to ruin the moment," she continued. "But I have to ask. Earlier you said you killed us twice. What does that mean?"

He panicked. His mind, previously under an odd haze of unfamiliar emotion suddenly snapped back to perfect working order. He tried to pull away but neither Popola nor Devola were so eager to let him slip from their possessive grasp.

Devola tightened her hug. "Guess at least one of those times is referring to those conjoined androids we found, but what about the other?"

"I-I just misspoke."

"And do you remember what I asked you at the Festhall," inquired Popola. "I want to know why you repaired us."

At that, 9S shoved them both back. He stepped away to further clear some distance. Devola held onto his hand, trying to pull him closer but he eventually shook himself free from her clutches.

"What's your problem," Devola demanded.

"What's your problem!? I thought you were the ones telling me not to worry about the past. Are you going back on that?"

Devola grimaced. "We don't care! The only reason we're even remotely curious is because of how weirdly defensive ya get! Both times we've asked this and you always go freaking mental! Of course, that's gonna raise suspicion! Had ya just acted normally, even when avoiding the actual answer, we probably wouldn't have cared. So, tell us! There's clearly something to it."

Popola smiled reassuringly. "Please, tell us. I promise we won't hold anything against you. How bad can it be?"

Encouraging words but only words. A statement he could not bring himself to believe.

Covertly, he lifted his sword. Even when feeling cornered like a rabid beast, Skald's Song refused to sharpen itself for him. It no longer resonated with him, or it was possibly the other way around. The twins did not notice his defensive stance.

He weighed his options. He found two solutions to his problem. Only one of which was at all desirable.

With his mind made up, 9S turned and ran.

"Wait," the twins shouted in unison.

He did not heed their call. He sprinted through the grass as fast as he could.

Devola and Popola chased after him without a second thought.

9S was starting to miss those miserable days of stalking resistance members and listening to every demand of the cherubs. He had not heard their voices in far too long. He needed to reconnect with them somehow. How he longed to hear their instructions in a time when he desperately needed their help.

The sisters trailed closely behind him. He barely managed to dodge being tackled several times.

As he progressed further through the endless fields, the twins' cries became more and more desperate. Likely fearing the worst, they screamed and begged for him to halt his stride. Their distressed voices were perturbing to say the absolute least. He slowed down, expecting them to finally catch him but they never did. They must have gotten turned around. They were still nearby, but unwittingly moving further away from him.

The thought of leaving them behind forever crossed his mind. A last-ditch means of keeping a certain secret well hidden. Maybe it was not such a terrible idea. He could reconnect with the cherubs. Resurrect No.9 and later regroup with Amos to revive the Legion. The twins would be better off not getting involved in such dark business.

The prospect of starting anew somewhere else was a tempting one. Just as tempting as running back to the twins and embracing them as he did before.

Losing their trail soon became virtually impossible. 153 found him. She kept her spotlight firmly locked on him. He could continue running but she would keep track of him. He could turn back and hack into her systems and disable her, but then the twins would have no hope of finding him.

There was nowhere to go.

Guilt overwhelmed him as he listened to their panicked shouting. Perhaps a new beginning was not meant to be.

Unexpectedly, he tripped. 9S let out a yelp as he fell. Something outcropped from the ground. A heavy object caught his foot and sent him tumbling face-first, not into a bed of soft grass, but solid stone.

Everything went black.

When 9S came to, he saw a light shining down on him. 153's obnoxious spotlight. She floated well above him, illuminating the battered scanner. She was not the only one looming over the discombobulated android.

Devola and Popola glared at him with varying degrees of frustration. Popola seemed far less infuriated than Devola who was utterly incensed. The moment she saw those scarlet eyes open, she grabbed him by the collar.

"What's the idea!? Were ya just gonna abandon us!? All over some pretentious secret!?"

He was much too disorientated to formulate a coherent response. Thankfully, Popola pulled her irate sister off of him. This gave him just enough room to breathe.

"Relax. We all need to calm down."

"I'll calm down whenever that schizoid spills it! And it better be worth all the hassle!"
She placed a hand on Devola's shoulder, but this normally fool-proof strategy was completely ineffective this time.

At that point, 9S gave up any hope of keeping the information to himself. He mumbled back to her with much reluctance.

"I wasn't actually going to leave you," he practically lied. "But if you must know, I got you killed in my last life."

He spoke in an unexpectedly detached tone. Cold and distant.

Devola finally slowed her raving. She and Popola looked down at him in confusion.

"Remember when I said my memory went blank after the Tower sprung from the ground? Well, that's not actually true."

He cast a resentful gaze to 153. "My pod left a single memory behind to torment me!"

"It was not my intention to leave that data behind," 153 explained calmly. "This support unit suspects that someone else tampered with your files."

"Whatever," 9S hissed back with a roll of his eyes. "Anyway, the memory I retained in full, graphic detail was of myself entering the Tower. I couldn't get in on my own, but you two showed up and died so that I could enter. Funniest part is… I don't even remember why I wanted in or what happened. I was killed up there. I remember that much so you probably died pointless deaths!"

"Is that why you resurrected us," asked Popola.

"Nope," 9S confirmed, grinning psychotically.

His red eyes darted about wildly as if he were expecting someone to intrude on them. "I remember seeing your dead bodies when I started searching for my lost memories. This was immediately after my damn pod brought me back. You both lied there with the same expressions. At first, I thought nothing of it. I felt bad that you died, but repairing you two never crossed my mind."

9S paused. The twins patiently waited until he mustered the will to continue reciting this dark history.

"I kept passing you by, and every time you'd stare at me with those empty eyes. There were times I could've sworn your eyes followed me as I walked past. I started spending more time loitering around the Tower, watching you both. You started whispering to me."

Disturbed, the twins glanced at each other. Neither of them had the courage to inquire further about various puzzling details.

9S cackled like a mad man as he recalled the events.

"You were both dead and you could still talk. It was insane! You'd tell me all kinds of things. Tried to convince me that I should slit my own throat and join you in the afterlife. You told me stories about when you were alive. You also talked about wanting revenge. That you were gonna rise from the dead and consume my flesh!"

"Nines, slow down…"

He ignored Devola's request.

"I heard your voices no matter how far away I was. I saw Popola sit up once. She moved on her own! Anytime I'd go to sleep, your corpses would be there in my dreams. I would wake up and find you both staring at me. Waiting to feast on my organs and wear my skin!"

His toothy grin faded. It turned upside down as despair overwhelmed his mania. Coils of lightning exposed this shift in demeanor to the twins.

"I repaired you because I thought it was the only way to make it up to you. I had to do it, there was no other way! You both wanted revenge. I had to do something! I didn't mean to get you killed. I'm sorry!"

Devola and Popola studied him for the longest time. 9S shifted atop a large stone that lied buried in the grass beneath him. Likely the same one he nearly bashed his skull upon. It had an odd shape. The surface was strangely flat as though it were carved.

"Why didn't you tell us," asked Devola.

"Because it worked," 9S informed with a grim smile. "You stopped haunting me the minute I finished the repairs. It was an obvious sign. A sign that if you ever found out what I did then you and your sister would want revenge. You'd eat me alive and drag my flayed soul into a realm of eternal darkness. So, go ahead and kill me if you want. Not like I care after all that's happened."

Popola gulped hard. She did not have a difficult time believing his story. Had it been told to her earlier on, she may have very well deemed him crazy just as her sister did. After seeing so much in the way of bizarre, unexplainable things herself she could easily fathom what he described.

She placed a gentle hand on his chest. "We have no desire for revenge. And there's no need to apologize. If we chose to die then that's our business. And for the record, we were not the ones who haunted you."

"What do you mean?"

"I did a lot of research while you and Amos were running around doing who knows what," Popola informed somewhat smugly. "My diary had some interesting entries written in it. I have to run some stuff by Amos. I think he'll know more about this than I have any hope of understanding. However, I've reached a conclusion about your eyes."

9S raised a skeptical brow. "Oh, yeah? What's that? And what do my eyes have to do with any of this?"

"I suspect you're being possessed," Popola proclaimed. "At the very least, I fear you are being influenced by forces unseen. As for our corpses coming to life, I think that too is a result of their influence over you. Your red eyes may very well be a symptom. Personally, I've begun to suspect that your desire to revive No.9 is due to their interference as well."

"Repairing No.9 is my own decision!"

Popola continued to softly stroke his chest. An effort to soothe him. Declaring him to be possessed was bound to cause a bit of friction. "Think about it like this. Do you really believe that 4S just so happened to stumble upon No.9's memories? It's too convenient. I think someone or something influenced either 4S or his environment which led to the discovery of those memories."

"Why go through all that when they could just do that to me directly?"

Devola interjected disapprovingly. "You killed 4S didn't ya? Murdered him in cold blood. Maybe they want you to do crazy stuff like that to drive you mad. Or maybe they just like messing with people."

"Who are they?"

"I can't say for certain," Popola admitted. "That's why I am going to take a risk and trust Amos. Some of the entries I read describe weird theories about the Legion. Amos is unique in that he thinks for himself. He might be the key to curing you. Provided he stays loyal, that is."

9S bit his tongue. He knew full well who Popola was alluding to. It offended him to hear such blasphemous talk of the cherubs. That ritual he performed in their name may have done some unintended damage but he still revered them.

"I trust Sodium Boy," Devola declared.

She smirked coyly. She placed a hand of her own on 9S's chest. Her fingers traced the buttons lining his tunic, threatening to undo them. "And you should know that it definitely wasn't us haunting you. Contrary to what ya may think, I'd rather not eat your brains or whatever. I doubt you taste all that great. And on that note..."

Devola gave no hint as to her next course of action. She leaned downward, closing the gap between herself and 9S. He observed her fearfully. In spite of her reassuring promise, he could so easily visualize her biting into his neck and ripping out his jugular.

That paranoid delusion was fortunately disproved. Devola pressed her lips against his. It took some time for him to overcome the initial shock. The darkly dressed lad did his best to keep up and reciprocate the kiss.

Devola eventually pulled herself away. He was allowed barely enough time to inhale before Popola followed her sister's example. She placed the tip of her index finger on his chin, softly guiding him toward her.

Unlike her more assertive twin, Popola was on the gentler side. Her demeanor allowed 9S to relax a bit. Devola leaned back in and kissed his neck. The sensation caused him to flinch. It was not exactly an unpleasant experience, but it was a little too similar to a certain gory mental image.

Pod 153 still floated above. Their moment of intimacy was bound to keep progressing. A moment that she remained hopeful would improve 9S's behavior, but one she had no desire to witness. It did not concern her.

All three of them likely forgot about her presence. She opted to fly off some distance away and hid in the grass where she waited for her name to be called. Once hidden in the grass, she immediately began clawing at herself. 9S's order to cease her self-mutilation did not go unheard, but it did go entirely ignored. The only order of his that she could not adhere to.

No one noticed her departure.

As Popola moved about, her boot brushed up against something more solid than the usual row of grass. The flat, unmoving surface suggested nothing more than a slab of concrete or an outcropping stone. She almost left it at that but something came over her. The feeling that they were being watched.

Reluctantly, she broke away from 9S and looked back. The rain pelting her was already a constant annoyance, but the sudden bout of paranoia ripped her attention away from 9S completely. Popola sat up and dug through the grass. 9S tried to see what had caught her eye but Devola kept him occupied.

Buried in the overgrowth, Popola discovered an eroded headstone. The sight of which disturbed her. She tapped 9S's leg but he did not respond.

"Hey," she spoke loudly in competition with the storm's howling. "Devola back off of him for a sec."

Her curly-haired twin was predictably frustrated but she did as told. "What now!?"

Popola pointed to her discovery. "I found a tombstone."

Devola and 9S sat up to take a closer look. It must have been what caused 9S to stumble.

Devola scratched her head at the morbid thing. "So… we're in a graveyard?"

Popola shrugged. "Afraid so. A place where humans buried their dead. I can make out the date here, but I can't read anything else. Apparently, this person was born in the year 1928 and died in 1945. If I'm reading that correctly."

"That was a long time ago," remarked Devola.

The YoRHa boy moved off of the solid surface he had been lying on all this time. He tore up various roots and flora until he too uncovered another grave. He tried to make out the engravings but it was impossible to decipher.

"This place," he murmured. "It's filled with dead people."

Devola stood up. She dusted herself off and looked around. "Welp, there goes that moment. We'd best get a move on. This place's giving me the creeps."

Popola nodded along. "We should not loiter here any longer. It's disrespectful."

"Probably for the best," Devola added. "Maybe we were getting a bit carried away. Sorry, Nines."

9S took one last look at the grave beneath him. Unearthing the remains was extremely tempting. A strong desire took hold. A want to see what their bodies looked like after so much decay and time spent underground.

Could they too be reanimated like an android? Apart from his bare hands, he had no means of digging them up and he highly doubted that his newfound loved ones would allow him to get away with it. He sighed and relented on his morbid desire.

"Hey," muttered Devola.

A hand rested on his shoulder.

"Let's go! The sooner we get back, the sooner we can relax and have some fun."

Popola crossed her arms. She cocked her head quizzically. "Doing what?"

"I dunno. This is all new territory for me. I have no idea what we should be doing from here on out."

She glinted at 9S. "Any ideas?"

He considered his options. He had all that he needed to revive No.9. That was his first idea, but he found himself in no rush for once. Spending more time with the twins was far more compelling.

"Can I hear you sing again when we get back?"

Devola smirked at the innocent request. "Sure. Why not?"

~O~

It was high time for Amos to take a vacation. Just a few days to clear his head and allow things to calm down a bit. A break from those insane androids would surely do his own psyche some good.

The deathless soldier was extremely curious about how well things were going for his favorite YoRHa model, but not so much that he would dare go back. Amos snickered to himself as he went. 9S's random attempt to get with the twins was a hilarious ordeal. If only the rest of his unit were there to see it.

After growing bored of wandering without a goal, Amos found a nice rooftop to relax on. He watched a group of machines attempting to learn the ancient art of "hopscotch." They carved the usual column of square spaces into the concrete and took turns trying to conquer their own creation. Kicking back and observing eventually became boring in of itself. Amos decided to show them how it was done.

The Legionnaire had nothing better to do.

Amos leaped from the ledge. The machines swiftly noticed his approach. Many of the smaller bipeds started backing away cautiously. Amos ignored their apprehension and stepped closer to the cluster. One machine was brave enough to speak up.
"…Who are you," it asked in an automated tone.

Amos quietly gestured for them to step back. It was a rare occurrence indeed when he got a chance to represent the Legion in ways that did not involve sadistic slaughter.

The mute soldier bounced across the squares, matching the pattern perfectly. Once the column had been cleared, he back-flipped away from the final square and took a showy bow. The machines clapped their hands together in an odd fashion.

"How," asked one of the little robots. "How did you do that?"

Without a voice, Amos' only means of teaching was through visible demonstration. One of the machines caught on to this fact. It stepped up and emulated his movements. The stubby pistons it had for legs did not exactly do the automaton any favors.

As their attention shifted to their friend's attempt, Amos took the opportunity to disappear from the crowd. He moved down a nearby series of alleyways. Aimlessly, Amos explored the streets he once raced through with his squad, so expertly cleansing them of human life in the most brutal ways possible.

He was content wandering through those winding roads when so suddenly, he heard it.

"Caim? Can… you… hear me?"

Amos stopped dead in his tracks.

The question invaded his mind. He could recognize that voice no matter how long it had been since he last heard it. The voice was raspy yet feminine. It was a rare occurrence to hear that woman speak from within the Legion's, at that point, very much dead hivemind.

When she did, she always cried out for that one name. She somehow used the same method of telepathic communication that his glorious Prince used to give orders to the murderous masses of Legion under his command. To hear a voice reach him through the Legion's combined consciousness after thousands of years of inactivity was downright haunting.

That woman was of some import to his fearless leader. Amos remembered full well the sorts of murderous rages the Prince would fly into anytime he heard her voice. The woman must have a connection to the Legion. It was the only explanation for how she could communicate with them.

Amos had not a clue about her identity, but the mere fact that she was still alive, and still calling out for that "Caim" person was all he needed to hear. A name he often suspected to be the name of his Prince.

Eternally loyal to the Prince, Amos sprung into action. He leaped onto one of the ruined structures and scaled it. He tried to get as high as he possibly could to better secure a lay of the land. The woman's raspy whisper was a much-needed ray of hope.

Hope that he could finally complete his mission of reviving the Prince, the Legion, and most importantly of all, regrouping with Ezekiel and the rest of his team.

A hope that he would not let slip from his salty fingers.

With claws and teeth bared, he climbed until he reached the rooftops. He darted from building to building searching for higher elevation. Amos scanned both the city as well as the sky. An odd detail he noticed about the Prince. Anytime his leader heard the woman's pleas, his first inclination was to look up. Amos thought it wise to do the same, although, he found nothing of interest up there.

An old radio tower came into view. Somehow, it had not been destroyed by the typhoon yet. Tall enough to offer a decent view of the local area. He seized the opportunity and scaled it. He held no regard for the torrents of lightning that arced in the sky. If he were to be struck then so be it.

His main priority was to make his presence known. To achieve any form of communication with that woman. If she were still out there somewhere, then all he had to do was keep looking. If she could hear him, perhaps she would seek him out. A plan that would likely not work the way he wished, but it was worth a try. A first step on reassessing the Legion's hold on this world.

Once he reached the top of the tower, he leaned forward and let out an ear-bursting howl. As loud a cry as he could muster. One that any fellow Legion in the area would be sure to hear.

If there were any still left at all.

~O~

Well across the city ruins, Pod 042 watched the rainfall from within the shelter of a gloomy complex. He heard the strangest sound amidst all the thunder and wind. A demonic roar the likes of which he had not heard before. It matched none of the usual calls and howls produced by the local fauna.

It was faint and far away. 042 ignored the weird sound as there was not much he could do about it even if he wanted to.

He turned himself away from the window and floated closer to the floor. A lifeless android laid beneath him. She had short white hair, cleanly cut into an iconic style. Her black clothes were indicative of her YoRHa origins.

There was nothing left for 042 to do. He had performed every test under the sun to ensure she was not contaminated by a Logic Virus. Her eyes were a clear shade of blue. No symptoms of whatever insanity wound up plaguing 9S were found in her.

"Alert," Pod 042 announced to the empty room. "Commencing reactivation of YoRHa Unit No.2 Type B."

Note: This chapter wound up swapping places with what is now Chapter 16. I'll talk more about why that is in a later note.

It mostly had to do with transition and pacing.

The last two scenes involved both a perspective and locational switch so I added a more elaborate scene break to signify those. They won't be too common as I try to keep most of this story contained to a single perspective. However, the next chapter as well as a couple of other events call for it.