Chapter XXI:

Onset of the Apocalypse

Volcanic rumbling filled the backdrop, adding to the tension that infested the sweltering air. The heat and noxious gases, as misery-inducing as they were, all but faded to the back of their collective minds.

9S stared the woman down. His frown contrasted the glowing smile decorating her plastic face. After a moment of quiet observation, he started to recognize her. He had seen her before. One of the many faces depicted on Amos' wall of targets and one of the very few that was not marked out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Amos twitching with anticipation. He was so close to attacking her yet he barely kept himself contained. 9S seized this inevitably brief period of respite to glean whatever information he could from her.

"My name is 9S. This is Amos. And you are?"

"Accord."

"Murderer!"

The woman fell silent. She lowered her gaze to the angered biped. The automaton stood over the corpse of that dead android. She firmly shook her head.

"If you're referring to that dead guy then I didn't do it."

"Liar!"

"Honest," Accord argued. "He was like that when I got here. I believe he became infected."

"Isolated in this cave the whole time and he still gets infected with the Logic Virus," asked 9S. Cynicism enveloped his words.

"Check his eyes if you don't believe me."

9S took another look at the mutilated body. "And how long ago was that?"

"About a week ago."

He rolled his eyes. She gave direct answers but never any more than what she was specifically asked. He could already tell this would not be an easy process.

"What are you doing here?"

Accord cocked her head at him. "You are a nosy one, aren't you? When I asked you for a name, the question was really just a gesture. I already know who you two are, YoRHa Unit No.9 Type S."

Her eyes switched to a book resting in her lap. She opened the hardcover and flipped through several pages. "Fought in the 14th Machine War. Played a key role in the decimation of the Machine Network. Died. Revived. Lost memories. Seeks to regain them at all costs. And as for your friend here…"

Accord adjusted her glasses and turned a single page. "Here it is. Amos Haddad. Hails from the Kingdom of Night. Elite reconnaissance soldier. Turned coat in the year 2003 AD. Retained sentience, committed countless atrocities, and has made multiple attempts on my life."

She closed the book and sat it atop her oversized briefcase. Momentary silence was put to an end when 9S reached a minor revelation.

"Hmm. Accord. I've heard that name before. You sell weapons to the Resistance don't you?"

"That I do."

"What's an arms dealer doing here? More importantly, how do you know so much about us?"

She smiled at the silver-haired android. "Just part of the job. Selling weapons is more of a side gig. I'm not allowed to go into detail about what I do. I'm also not allowed to interfere much. That doesn't mean I can't give you a tip or three. If you're willing to forgo shooting me and listen, that is."

Reluctantly, Amos lowered his weapon but he did not put it away. Apparently, that was enough of a gesture. Accord's grin widened in approval.

"Thank you," she said with a polite nod. Her gaze then wandered to the pile of bones hidden beneath that puzzling barrier of magic. "If you two keep going down this projected path, something terrible is going to happen. A swift end to what's left of the world."

9S rolled his eyes. Skepticism permeated his words. "Can you at least be more specific?"

Accord shrugged her shoulders. "If only."

"Whatever. I take it you know something about this dragon or can you not talk about that either?"

"I know that she isn't actually dead," said Accord.

9S furrowed a quizzical brow. "She?"

"Yep!" Accord slid off of the boulders and goose-stepped around the perimeter of her luggage. "And unlike yours truly, she isn't a very nice lady. She also has a long history. She was held in the Kingdom of Night for the longest time but disappeared. She was resurrected. I assume she signed the same pact as your genocidal friend over there."

Amos snarled at his target but refrained from outright attacking her. Even he was curious about what she had left to say.

She skipped closer to the group. The more distance she closed, the louder Amos growled. She paid his obvious aggression no mind.

"Some old androids worked very hard to keep her contained. They set up this trap and ensnared her in it. Lest the whole world be roasted by her breath of fire. I recommend you two turn around and leave the way you came. You're both in way over your heads."

"Did you come all this way just to speak with us," asked 9S. "Did you know we'd be here?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Her coy tendencies quickly eroded his patience. He was growing increasingly more frustrated with her teasing tone.

"I tell you this because I really hate bad endings," she informed. Her eyes narrowed on 9S. She then pointed to Amos. "You stand to benefit from taking my advice as well."

His growling grew significantly louder.

"Snarl all you want," she giggled. "What are you going to do? Assassinate me? Try to steal my equipment? Right. Because it worked out so well the last nine times you and your buddies tried it."

She took that same index finger and curiously pressed it against her bottom lip. "Say… Whatever happened to those other guys you were with? Don't tell me you're the last…"

She would not be allowed to finish that horrid sentence. Amos opened fire. Twelve rounds erupted from the bottom barrel of his rifle.

Accord dove out of the way. Surprisingly, she then advanced on him. Amos promptly dropped his weapon. His claws were always his preference. He swiped at her only for the android to dodge at the last second. With nothing to sink his talons into, he fell forward, landing on his knees. Frustrated, Amos slammed his fist into the obsidian ground before picking himself back up.

"Interfere, I cannot," Accord announced. "But there's no rules against self-defense."

9S charged in from behind. While her back was still turned, he swung his sword as though it were a bat and bashed the back of her head. Her skull practically rattled from the collision. She staggered a few steps away.

"That hurt!"

She twirled herself around. Leaping into the air, she planted her heel on 9S's forehead. He fell flat on his back.

His first instinct was not to get back up and reengage her. Instead, he sat upright and inspected his satchel, ensuring that no bottles had been broken. He then carefully placed the bag well out of harm's way.

"Be careful," 9S demanded. "This stuff is fragile!"

The boy's pleas went ignored.

She cartwheeled away from them. Accord landed behind her briefcase. She unzipped it and yanked out a striking sword. It had a curved, oddly shaped hilt. The blade itself appeared to be heated. It radiated an infernal red akin to the magma that surrounded them.

With a confident grin, she advanced on Amos once more. He was not deterred by her newfound weapon.

Accord hoisted her sword forward. The manipulation of the weapon spawned a magical reaction. An immense pillar of enchanted fire erupted from the ground directly in front of him. The flames grazed his forearm. It hurt. The pale particles of his arm did not react well with the Red Maso. He was forced to retreat by a few steps.

When the fire cleared, Accord's cocky smile widened. "Not used to dealing with someone who can fight back, are you?"

She braced herself to spawn another torrent of red flames but her momentum came to a sudden end. 9S blindsided her. He flanked the opposing android and struck her across the jaw with an open palm. She staggered back but 9S did not relent in his assault. He swung his sword wildly at her. She was just barely able to focus herself in time to block his flurry of slashes and jabs.

This forced Accord onto the back foot. It provided Amos with a decent diversion. He seized the opportunity. The soldier took advantage of her left flank. He got down on all fours and charged her, keeping just out of sight until it was far too late.

"I'm trying to help you," Accord irritably murmured to 9S. "Are you really this eager to destroy yourselves?"

Her words of warning were cut terribly short. Carnivorous teeth sunk into the flesh of her forearm. Her eyes widened. She landed a kick on 9S's torso and sent the boy staggering back.

Her horrified eyes then shifted leftward. Amos bit down on her and refused to let go. The pressure of his bite threatened to snap her alloy bones. Like a maniac dog, he shook his head, tearing a chunk of her skin off as he pulled away.

Accord screamed and reeled back. Amos watched her from afar. He began chewing on the flesh still caught in his teeth. The pale monster swallowed it a moment later. Blood dripped from his chin.

She retreated to her travel bag. She kept her body angled toward her opponents, shielding her grievous injury.

"Have it your way," the girl seethed. The casual demeanor she exuded earlier was completely gone. Her slurred words were plagued by the agony of her wound. "But don't say I didn't warn you!"

With that, she aimed the tip of her crimson sword at them. Another blazing pillar shot out of the ground. Amos charged in once more, anticipating another attack. When the fire cleared, however, she and her travel bag were gone.

Vanished without a trace.

Magma seethed near 9S's boots. He and Amos sat close to the lake of molten rock. They stared at the magical bubble. It was virtually unreachable. Surrounded by magma. The duo brainstormed their own solutions about how to solve this problem.

9S was not quite sure what Amos' intentions were. He could only assume it had something to do with freeing this dragon. Doing the one thing Accord warned against. 9S had no way of knowing what this event would herald but if Amos was not worried then he saw no reason for himself to be concerned.

An idea abruptly struck him.

"Hey!"

Amos jumped at the android's unexpected shouting.

"You're practically invincible, right? Just swim across and break the barrier!"

He shook his head. A clear rejection of this plan. Magic may be his primary weakness but it was not the only thing that could kill him. Amos stared down at the magma. Not even he with all of his inherent resilience would be able to survive for more than a few minutes in that vat of molten pain.

9S scanned the cavern one more time. Perhaps there was a crucial detail yet to be uncovered. Four glass pillars stood tall on either side. They were abstract. Appearing to show no purpose as they did not reach the ceiling, thus, they could not be used as supports. The inscriptions were enigmatic and illegible. Ominous runic symbols comprised of mostly straight lines joined by circles.

Then he saw it. At the tops of these pillars, he caught a glimpse of a very thin arc of red lightning. It shot out from the glass and disappeared into the barrier. He immediately perked up. He pointed to the top of the dome.

"Wait a second. I think those columns are powering the forcefield!"

Amos looked up. He soon noticed the same sporadic bolts of magical energy being shot from the glass meshes and toward the dragon's body.

"If we can disrupt them somehow, the barrier might weaken or dissolve outright. According to… well… Accord, if the barrier goes down then the dragon should wake up."

It was more than worth a shot. Amos hoisted himself up. 9S did the same.

He set off for the pillar closest to their right. They walked around the bank and came to a stop. Amos sized it up as though it were an opponent.

"How are we supposed to do this?"

Amos was already a step ahead. He threw his backpack on the ground and unzipped one of the compartments. The soldier retrieved several grenades. 9S figured out exactly what his plans were. Without needing to be asked, he quickly backed off.

Amos kicked his bag toward 9S. Taking the hint, he reached out and dragged the bag further out of harm's way. With everything important kept at a safe distance, Amos kicked a few rocks away from the base of the pillar. Just enough to form a small hole that could keep the explosives held in place. He then pulled the pins and dropped them. He sprinted and slid behind the nearest boulder for cover.

A few seconds passed. An enormous explosion threatened to shatter 9S's eardrums. As they waited for the smoke to clear, a snap almost as loud as the explosion itself sounded off. Wild torrents of crimson electricity fired off erratically along the sides of the pillar. After about a minute, the bout of magical activity subsided and the pillar fell eerily quiet.

The column managed to remain standing. A large chunk of the glass was missing. Cracks formed all along the structure. Amos did not bother taking time to admire the destruction. He was already pulling out another set of grenades. His colorless eyes were firmly locked on the next pillar.

A shout from behind put a fleeting pause to the destruction.

"What are you doing!? Stop! Stop it right now!"

The machine who guided them to this infernal place crept out from hiding. He charged their position, waving his metallic hands in a frantic bid to gain their attention.

"They kept it locked away for a reason! I won't let you…!"

9S's full attention was on the machine when three subsequent gunshots rang out right next to his ear. He instinctively flinched. It did not help his already ringing ears. Suddenly, the machine slumped over. 9S slowly turned back. Amos had his pistol drawn. Smoke seeped from the barrel.

Quietly, he holstered the weapon and went about his business as though nothing had happened. It was starting to bother 9S. All signs as well as his own gut pointed to this being a dreadful idea yet Amos showed no signs of stopping. 9S invoked reassuring thoughts. As they set out for the second pillar, he kept reminding himself that Amos surely knew what he was doing.

They repeated the same process and the explosion predictably decimated the pillar's ability to generate magic. 9S could only guess this had something to do with the runes carved all over the glass. Perhaps the glass itself was also part of this ritualistic structure. When broken, the inscribed instructions for automation ceased to function.

As they made their way back around the bank to the other two pillars, 9S glinted to the barrier. It was visibly weakening, but far more concerning was that one of the dragon's skeletal wings appeared to be moving. The bones connected to their respective joints and were held in place by a haze of salt-colored mist.

"I think it's working," 9S muttered.

Amos looked up from his collection of explosives to see that lone wing struggling to move. Still half-submerged in magma, it was hard to see most of the undead creature but it was obvious that as the barrier's strength was sapped, the dragon was able to move about with increasing freedom.

Her rough tone seeped once more into his mind. It was becoming clearer and clearer every time he heard it.

"This place was well guarded once. Time and entropy have made your task an easy one. The haze upon my mind is lifting. I can move again. You need only destroy one more pillar and I shall do the rest."

Amos softly grunted in acknowledgment.

He was enthused to hear this news as he was becoming wise to the fact that he may very well not have enough explosives on hand to take out all four pillars. He did indeed have enough to decimate at least one more.

"I want him back. Free me and I will get what I want."

Her words were motivating. The same desire was mirrored in his motionless heart.

The duo stopped several feet from the third column. 9S hung back and waited with the rest of Amos' equipment at his side.

Amos stopped in front of the lustrous surface. He could see his own reflection in the glass. He stared at the troublesome runes, then gave the dragon one last glance.

As Amos pulled the pins on his last cluster of grenades, 9S dug his index fingers into his ears, shielding them as best as he possibly could from the explosion.

A bombastic blast rippled throughout the volcanic chamber. 9S could feel it in his bones. For some unknowable reason, it carried far more weight than the others.

"One left to go," 9S shouted over the sound of ringing that plagued his ears.

Amos pointed at the barrier. 9S span around, expecting to see that it had been further weakened. He was in for an interesting surprise.

Bones flew into place. The skeleton hoisted herself from the magma. Flayed wings scraped and pushed against the cracking barrier. Like an egg, the dragon erupted from the confines of the mystical prison.

For the first time, they got a clear look at the prehistoric beast.

It had no front limbs, only a pair of enormous wings and a set of hind legs with talons nearly stretching the length of 9S's body. The long tail was capped off by a sharp, circular bone.

The skull drew the most attention. It resembled that of a demonic goat.

Horns attached to the back of her head curved forward as though they were tusks. Sharp teeth decorated her jagged jaw.

The dragon's eyes burned a fiery shade of scarlet. The sight of which caused Amos to audibly gasp. It was the first time 9S ever heard the soldier make a sound quite like that.

Amos stepped forward.

Upon freeing herself from the magical binds, the dragon stared him down. He drew closer to the magma and promptly knelt to the ground, performing a formal bow. There was no denying that eye color. The same eye color as the Prince's. A clear indication that she was to be his superior.

He had no qualms about bowing to someone other than his fearless Prince. It was obvious that he and this dragon were connected in some way. To not bow to her would be a grave insult to his memory. He remained on the ground and awaited further orders.

"Never forgive," she spoke aloud. "Never forgive…"

Her voice astonished 9S. She was clearly Legion. One could easily tell by looking at the brittle, powdery texture of her bones, yet there she was, speaking so effortlessly when Amos never could.

She stretched out her wings. Her wrathful hissing filled the cavern. Without warning, she took flight and soared towards the ceiling of the cavern. There was a vent above that presumably led to the surface but was not large enough to fit her skeletal body.

That was of no hindrance. She burrowed through the earth, tearing into the side of the mountain as though it were made of paper. The ground shook beneath 9S's boots.

"What the…"

He had no time to finish that thought. Boulders came crashing down into the magma. The place threatened to cave in at any second.

9S reached out and yanked at Amos' shoulder. The Legionnaire immediately picked himself up off of his knees.

"We need to move! Now! Before the whole mountain comes crashing down on our heads!"

9S and Amos emerged from the collapsing caves. They reached the surface just in time to escape the falling stalactites. 9S took a deep breath. The air around him was still infested with volcanic gases, but it was far more tolerable than being trapped in those suffocating caverns.

A violent gust of wind descended upon them. They both looked up. The Dragon soared above them. Her sights were set on the machine village so unfortunately positioned in the middle of her path. She swooped down and breathed balls of solid white fire along the side of the mountain as though she were carpet-bombing the perimeter.

"Get down," 9S exclaimed. He dove to the ground. Amos crouched down but was not so dramatic in seeking cover. He studied the oddly colored flames. They appeared to be generated by White Maso. The very essence of the Legion. He had no reason to suspect such a fire would harm him. 9S, on the other hand, was likely a different story entirely.

The dragon swiftly advanced on their miserable town. The digitized screams of machine lifeforms echoed across the lava fields. Their howling would not be the only thing that Amos could hear. His mind suddenly filled with ethereal data. Telepathic communications came flooding in. Within an instant, the Legion's hivemind, having been dead for thousands of years, came to life.

They communicated in signals as, unlike the dragon, they could not form language. A flood of tactical transmissions drowned out his own thoughts. Once upon an ancient time, he could easily allow this data to fall to the background, but he was no longer accustomed to hearing them. The distinct sound of dozens if not hundreds of fellow Legion operating in tandem with each other.

Such a thing should be impossible. The Legion did not exist anymore.

"Look," 9S cried out, pulling Amos' attention back to the issues at hand. The boy pointed to a plume of white flames burning a small distance down the mountain. Something was moving beneath the flames. Numerous figures of both humanoid and more abstract shapes.

Like corpses risen from archaic graves, pale monsters shambled out of the fire. The ethereal flames appeared to be spawning them. Some of them were tall and distinctly human in shape yet coated in salt. They looked very much akin to Amos.

Others were smaller. They wielded wands made of the same powdery substance. Their heads were pointed, resembling gnomish hats.

Some of these monsters took on more abstract forms. Scrawny limbs dangled from thin torsos. They hovered above the ground like wasps. Granted the ability to fly by sets of insectoid wings resembling that of a dragonfly.

"Are they… Are they Legion!?"

Amos stepped forward. He let out a blaring screech. Seconds later, that same howl was mimicked all across the mountain. They responded to him.

It confirmed 9S's question.

Stacks of white fire dotted the landscape. It clung to the stretches of chard earth that suffered from the dragon's bombardment. Each bout of flames spawned countless numbers of Legion. They were very different from how Amos remembered. The familiar humanoid was occasionally seen, but these creatures were largely different. He had seen some of these more surreal elements under the Prince's control but they were not nearly common. It was as if he were looking at a different strain of Legion.

Their weird nature made no difference to him. Amos could only see one thing. The Legion had returned and currently worked to secure a village. He pulled out his rifle and charged towards their target.

9S ran after him. A twisted smile soon replaced his mortified frown. The prospect of fighting alongside an entire invasion force of Legionnaires was exhilarating. He did not want to be left out of this oncoming carnage.

The dragon circled the village from above like a carrion bird. Waves of Legion charged the helpless hovels from all sides, mewling and howling at the bloodshed to come. The occasional crimson orb was fired off by a panicked machine but resistance otherwise was practically nonexistent. The residents were far too concerned with putting out the fire sticking to their bodies like napalm. Melting their metal plating.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Legions already engaging with the machines. A small group of automatons tried to flee their burning village only to run straight into an oncoming line of demonic aberrations. Swarms of littler Legions huddled in clusters. The way they moved disturbed 9S They bounced as though gravity gave them special treatment. WIth their wands aimed skyward, they manifested white orbs akin to the crimson energy wielded by machines. They unleashed a flurry of these bolts, decimating a chunk of the cowering robots.

Winged monsters swooped down and pulled a medium biped up in the air. They swarmed around the unfortunate golem of iron, ripping apart limbs and removing internal components. Like a swarm of locusts, they decimated the machine's body, leaving behind mere remnants before moving on to the next target.

The fight had only barely begun when the dragon suddenly grew tired of idle flight. The metal contraptions below barely put a fight. It was downright boring to watch. A swift end to this slaughter was in order

She flew to the center of the village and unleashed a hellish barrage upon the huts below. Enormous balls of colorless flame manifested in the air around her and rained down upon her victims.

Nothing survived. No structures remained standing. No machines stirred. Long before the bulk of surrounding Legion could reach the village, it had already been flattened.

9S and Amos ceased their sprinting. The fight was already over. There was no longer a need to rush.

The pale monsters around them did the same. 9S watched as the army of ghosts blankly stared at the burning town. Like forsaken machines waiting for their next command, they stood at attention, looking on with empty eyes.

The dragon landed near the decimated village. She looked on to the destruction wrought by her infernal breath. She craned her neck, gazing back at Amos and then to 9S. Her jaws parted. Her next words came not through telepathic means but from a simple, verbal gesture.

She breathed deeply.

"Free at long last."

9S watched her carefully. He tried to not make any sudden movements. A bid to not draw too much attention to himself. Hiding in plain sight did not work for long.

Her red eyes trained on him.

"You two did well. You there. Boy. Identify yourself."

"My name's 9S, ma'am. I'm a friend of Amos'."

He pointed to the Legionnaire in question just to ensure that she knew exactly who he was referring to.

The dragon tilted her massive head. "9S. Odd name. I once knew a priest and an elf that would be very interested to meet someone like you. Both for very different reasons."

9S glanced around in confusion. He was not quite sure how to respond to that. The pressure of being in the presence of such a creature compelled him to at least say something. "Uh. I see…"

Her attention shifted back to Amos. "You remind me so much of him. You know who I speak of, do you not?"

He nodded.

"He is no longer with us. I cannot sense him. The other half of my conjoined soul is gone from this world. Stolen from me…"

A seething, boiling rage backed her words. 9S could have sworn he felt the already sweltering air around him raise by a few degrees. She exuded hatred. It seeped from her joints. Infested her salty marrow. It was almost contagious.

She turned away from her saviors.

"Do whatever you want for now. I must get my bearings on this wretched world. You will be hearing from me soon enough. When next we meet. This planet will weep what little tears it has left."

The dragon extended her wings. Their length was immense. With a single flap, she flew off into the air and disappeared behind the clouds of ash hovering well above the smoldering vista.

"Wait," 9S exclaimed. He waved in a last bid to regain her attention. "Where are you going!?"

There was no way of reaching her. She left his sight in a matter of seconds. 9S gave up the futile endeavor.

"What now? Should we just… go home and wait?"

Amos eyed his fellow Legions. Ghostly faces he was beginning to think he would never see again. He watched as they swarmed the area. They moved to route any survivors, dragging them out into the open and ripping them apart.

9S followed the soldier's gaze. The screams curdled his blood. He had never heard a machine shriek like that.

Amos ultimately opted to return home. He pulled out his stack of maps and began charting a course. All he could do was sit back and wait for his winged leader to return. The rest of this new Legion would surely follow. While the dragon's motives were still unknown to him, he was already concocting educated guesses.

The way she spoke. The mere fact that she bothered summoning these ancient monsters in such numbers only to dispatch the village herself seconds later. All signs pointed to one glaringly obvious fact.

The long war was about to resume. The Legion would subsume the world once and for all. This 10,000-year-old score was going to be settled in the very near future.

Needless to say, Amos was absolutely thrilled.

Hours upon restless hours of walking, rock climbing, swimming, and the occasional leap of faith eventually concluded once the duo took the first step into familiar territory.

To say the ruins were a welcome sight would be an understatement. Upon entering recognizable streets, 9S collapsed onto the asphalt. He landed in a deep puddle, producing a bombastic splash. Rain poured down from above, granting him a cold yet welcoming embrace.

"Finally," he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Amos plopped down nearby. He checked his map. They still had a ways to go but there were at least no mountains or swamplands in between them and the coast. His hideout was on the way. He made a mental note to stop there. A proper break was most certainly in order.

"Hey, Amos?"

The soldier grunted at him, acknowledging 9S's presence.

"If Popola ever asks me to fetch something for her, remind me not to do it."

Amos gave the boy a reassuring thumbs-up.

9S forced himself upright. His body fought him but he did not allow himself any further time on the ground. The rain was an annoyance. The concrete was predictably uncomfortable. Above all else, his patience to return home had completely run out. There could be no more delays. He could not stand it.

"Let's just go. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we'll be back home."

The android set off down the fragmented road. Amos groggily got up. He could not argue with that logic no matter how badly he wanted to remain seated. Even he in his deathless state of being was growing weary from all the traveling. It was mental exhaustion more than anything else.

Amos' hideout was a relieving sight to see. The coast was still a decent walk. They opted to take a well-earned break from all the tiresome walking.

The two exhaustedly dragged themselves down the dark hall. Amos lit a few of the hanging lanterns as they went. He arrived at the sealed door leading to his team's old briefing room. He cocked his head.

"What is it," asked 9S.

Amos pulled a note off of the door. It was too dark to read it. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. 9S fumbled around to find a seat at the table while Amos worked to bring light to this dreary place.

One by one the lanterns illuminated the pitch-black space. When the task was done, he sat down in his usual chair and kicked his feet up over the table. An act he could only get away with whenever Ezekiel was not around.

After one glance at the note, he noticed the name at the bottom of the page. The sight of which immediately bored him. He tossed the paper onto a pile of old files and documents. He would get around to it. Eventually.

Eternally curious, 9S took it upon himself. He picked up the page and leaned back in his chair. Rainwater stained the page but the crude writing was still legible. He read the message aloud all while hoping Amos would not mind his nosiness.

"Dear Amos,

Thanks again for the files.

I listed an address below. Please meet me there. I have some questions that really need to be answered.

Sorry for the trouble but this is important.

-Emil"

9S stared at the page in confusion. He silently read over it again to himself. Amos gave no reaction to it.

"You know Emil? I forgot that guy existed until now."

Amos carelessly shrugged his shoulders. He was far too tired to care.

9S tossed the paper rback where he found it. If it did not concern the very person it was addressed to, then 9S saw no reason why he should worry about it either.

He unclipped his satchel from his back and placed it on the table. The thing was stuffed with the bottles of alcohol as well as the psychotic ingredients Popola requested. He unzipped the satchel and pulled out the separate bag containing everything she needed. As he liberated the desired items, something else fell out of his satchel. It flopped onto the table with a metallic jingle.

Fear enveloped him the moment he saw it. Dog tags. Five of them. All that remained of Amos' squad tied to a single, rusty chain. He glinted to the friendly Legionnaire. Amos paid no attention. His head was leaned over the back of his chair. His eyes were sealed shut.

9S quickly shoved the necklace back into his satchel. He immediately went back to digging through the ingredients. He made sure everything was in order. By some miracle, none of the bottles were broken and he was fairly certain that he had everything.

Upon verifying this, he set the bag aside and rested his head on the table. He did not move for another hour or two.

After no small amount of time was spent resting, impatience eventually took hold. He was more than ready to return to the coast with or without Amos.

The boy stood up. "I'm heading back now. You coming?"

Amos barely stirred. He merely waved 9S away as if to shoo him out of the room. It was the closest thing to an answer 9S was going to get. That much was crystal clear.

"Very well. I guess I'll see you later. And thanks for going with me."

Amos extended a solitary fist toward the android. Recognizing the familiar gesture, 9S bumped it with his own.

Amos then fell back into his chair like a rag doll.

9S picked up the sack of ingredients and headed out the door.

Amos lifted his head once more after he heard the door close. He shuffled about, searching through his desk until he found an old notepad. He took out a pen and pressed it to the paper.

He had quite a lot of reports to write.

The sight of the complex 9S dubbed "home" brought a wave of relief over him. It loomed over the wrathful coast, begging his entry. He did not delay.

9S dragged himself up the winding stairs until he reached the desired floor. He pushed the door open. He was greeted by an empty hallway. The android stopped dead in his tracks. Humid air gently caressed his plastic cheeks.

All of the bombastic fighting and exploration through unseen lands allowed him to forget just how quiet things were around here. There were no explosions to be heard. No annoying scanners to deal with. No winter winds. No swamp-dwelling insects. Everything was dead quiet. The rain and thunder outside offered him little comfort.

It was difficult to readjust to the usual ambiance of this desolate place. Overturned furniture and rubble decorated the black halls. He listened for any signs of life but was met with nothing.

Devola was not playing her lute. He could not hear their twin speak chatter from behind drywall. Were they even here at all? Dreadful loneliness overtook his mind.

"Dev?"

He took a few steps forward before calling out again.

"Popola? …Pod?"

He fumbled over a stack of wooden planks left lying in his path.

"Anybody there?"

No response could be heard. No hint of activity. He clenched the bag held tightly in his arms. Did something happen? Did Anemone make a move against them while he was away? All of the traveling caused him to completely forget about the Resistance's plot to murder those dearest to him.

Cherubic laughter eased into his skull. Giggling he had not heard in a long time. A taunting snickering from another cosmic realm. The dread of stumbling upon their dead bodies grew with every passing second. Mental images of their mutilated corpses filled his mind. They came to him in waves.

He rounded a corner and passed by a vacant closet. The door to which hung off the rusted hinges. He neglected to check that corner. That lack of action turned out to be a mistake.

As he passed by the open room, a pair of hands reached out and grabbed him. He shrieked and threw himself against the wall on the far side of the hall.

"Boo!"

He panicked and shined his light on the assailant. His look of terror quickly devolved into one of utter contempt upon getting a proper look at the grinning face staring back at him.

"Devola!?"

She emerged from the closet, cackling aloud like a madwoman. "Sorry, Nines. I heard ya coming and I couldn't resist."

His gaze sharpened. "Suddenly I regret coming back."

"Don't be like that," she laughed. "What took you guys so long? And where's Amos?"

"He stayed behind. I have everything you two asked for."

Devola smirked. She brimmed with excitement. She greedily snatched the bag from his grasp and pulled out one of the bottles for closer inspection. "You did! Well done. Now we can move on to the fun part."

A separate voice interjected, cutting their exchange short. "Nines? You're back!"

The two turned away from each other. Popola emerged from the darkness. 153 floated nearby, providing her with a source of light. She embraced 9S after closing the distance.

"You were gone for a long time."

"That list of stuff you wanted wasn't easy to come by," 9S reminded her.

There was a strange miasma clinging to 9S. Popola sniffed him. "Why do you smell like smoke?"

"Oh," 9S murmured. "We went into a volcano at one point."

Both of the twins stared at him in bewilderment.

"A volcano," asked Devola. "Okay. Now, I'm interested."

"It's uh…," 9S stammered. He glanced at both of the sisters. He was not exactly prepared to tell either one of them about what he could only assume was an imminent Legion invasion. How exactly he was supposed to inform them of this plagued his thoughts the whole way home. He never did find a satisfactory answer.

"It's a long story."

"Don't give me that! Tell us what happened!"

Popola had yet to let go of him. This he did not exactly mind but he could not help but notice the way she patted his back as though she were searching for something.

"Your satchel," Popola finally announced. "Did you lose it?"

Unspeakable dread suddenly washed over him. He could not sense its weight nor the strap that should be wrapped around his torso. His satchel was indeed gone and he knew exactly where he left it. He tried his best to not panic.

"Oh," he exclaimed sheepishly. "I… I took it off at Amos' place. Guess I forgot about it."

"No matter," Devola interrupted, not at all interested in his missing equipment. "You can get it later. Right now, we've got more important things to worry about."

Devola held up one of the bottles. A mischievous smile sprawled across her face. She turned to her sister. "I think we have a song to sing."

"Right," Popola agreed.

"Be nice to have some fun for a change," Devola announced. "Ya know, while nothing horrible is happening?"

She handed Popola the numerous ingredients before grabbing hold of both her wrist as well as 9S's. Devola pulled them both down the hall, impatient to jump-start their festivities.