Another head hangs lowly
Child is slowly taken
And the violence causes silence
Who are we mistaken?

But you see, it's not me
It's not my family
In your head, in your head, they are fighting
With their tanks, and their bombs
And their bombs, and their drones In your head
in your head, they are crying

What's in your head, in your head?
Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie
What's in your head, in your head?
Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie, oh

Another mother's breakin'
Heart is takin' over
When the violence causes silence
We must be mistaken

It's the same old theme
In two thousand eighteen In your head
in your head, they're still fightin'
With their tanks, and their bombs And their guns
and their drones In your head
in your head, they are dyin'

For a year, Brian and Tala were practically inseparable, living as street urchins with the skills of pickpocketing and running errands for more shady people to get by. Together, they could do anything.

That all changed when they tried to steal from Boris. Rather than punishing them, he made them an offer that was too tempting to ignore – especially given that winter was fast approaching and they were running low on food and supplies. It was an opportunity unheard of in the destitute streets where luck seemed to have died out with what little people owned.

Boris promised them shelter, food, and protection in exchange for their services in his underground organization. Brian and Tala hesitated but eventually agreed.

Gradually, they began to realize the true nature of the abbey. Had they not been so sharp-witted, they could have ended up like some of the less fortunate children.

They were instructed to train, and they complied; they were ordered to become strong, and they followed orders. Before either knew it, two years had gone by, and then they were cruelly split apart.

They had been walking for hours, watching the sun rise in the morning and set again in the afternoon. He focused on trying to blank out his mind, dulling his fatigue and distractions. Despite his exhaustion, Tala continued on while Boris followed close behind.

Much to his relief the loudmouth had stayed quiet for most of their journey, but he'd been unable to get rid of him entirely. He'd hoped that eventually Boris would just give up and leave him be.

But the latter was wishfull thinking, Tala knew as much. That old man was stubborn as ever and just like his favorite pet projects, he wasn't going to let a little mishap get him down.

He attempted to figure out how much longer he had to trek on foot. He could have ran instead but it would have used up the majority of his energy. He wished that by sunset he'd at least come across some civilization.

The small towns they stumbled upon had been left desolate and deserted for ages now, providing no assistance other than a bit of shelter. Maybe the infestation of fiends had a hand in that, but he could only guess at that. At first he thought of it as a minor threat, but nowadays he was becoming more and more aware that this problem has been festering in the depts for far longer than that.

As he wiped a drop of sweat from his face, he became aware of the pounding in his chest. "Damn it," he murmured; he had experienced tough situations before and knew that the first signs of withdrawal were setting in.

They trudged through the abandoned field, the moonlight highlighting the withered vegetation. In the distance was a barnhouse, and it held promise of a comfy place to rest or perhaps find a functioning vehicle that he could hotwire. But something seemed off. He felt uneasy, as if there was something lurking that made him want to cross the open space faster and get out of sight.

The moment he noticed a faint glimmer in the distance, he dropped to the ground. The clanging of a door shutting followed by yelps of dogs put everything together for him.

Then Boris, behind him, quietly whistled. "Took them long enough."

He inwardly cursed himself; It seemed far too convenient that they'd been ambushed at the church. Someone must have known Boris was part of the team and set them up to be taken out together. But what connection did this have with the FBSC? They had been fighting against the fiends for years now, would they really go as far as to summon one just to get rid of the two of them and sacrifice their own agents for that cause?

He had his doubts, until Matteo emerged as the sole agent who actually respected him. The rest were always so unimpressed when he made it out of another rift unscathed. Some blamed him for all the chaos; others thought he was just a fiend himself. He didn't really care what they thought though; he'd made a deal with the FBSC and he had to stick to it. Now, he could only hope that he had bought the BBA enough time.

Boris could tell that Tala's body was getting close to his limit. He had a knack for performing miracles and accomplishing the impossible, which is why Boris trusted him so much and why Voltaire had kept him around for so long.

Even though he could send Tala all over the world on mission after mission, he still needed the other three to keep him in check. Boris understood Tala more than anyone else, being able to read his body language like a book.

But what he'd seen at the church defied even his own assumptions: Tala's agitation combined with his heavy usage of painkillers, the absence of Wolborg- it all formed a puzzle that Boris couldn't ignore.

Ever since he began investigating the Gehenallis—and maybe even before that, when they made their famous discovery—there were still many unanswered questions. Did they choose individuals to wield them, like the Sacred Beasts did? Or did they just get passed down through family? What about Tala? He seemed to have the mental strength and capability to use them without being possessed.

Boris was aware of Tala's potential role in all this, even if he didn't realize it himself. For now, Boris needed him to trust him again, which was a tall order given their history. If Boris could make this happen, then it would be his ticket back to regaining his scientific prestige. Tala had to survive, and the research was the key.

Boris inquired, his eyes not leaving the barn, "How far away can you send out those hounds?"

"About a mile," was the response.

There was much he didn't understand about the hounds yet. But it amazed him, they dissipated on contact, yet they could do harm on a physical level. "Can they make a diversion?"

Tala let out a sigh of tiredness: having the task of calling all five of them together was no easy feat. He had to be quick if he wanted to get away from the FBSC. Even if they succeeded in crossing the vast fields, the FBSC wouldn't give up searching for them.

He realized that his best course of action was to take out as many of them as possible, even if only for a short while.

He checked his weapon to make sure he had enough ammunition, as well as an extra magazine. With that knowledge, he stood up and concealed himself in the shadows. Then, he broke into a sprint towards the barn.

Before anyone could spot him, he whispered a command for two hounds to come out of hiding and run towards the barnhouse. They quickly followed orders, and their barks filled the night sky as they raced ahead.

Taking advantage of the chaos generated by the snarling dogs, Tala decided to take off without delay. Exhausted yet determined, he pushed himself as hard as he could across the empty landscape.

They stopped in front of a large barn door, facing away from each other. Tala shot a dirty look at Boris before continuing forward; at least the brute wasn't slowing him down. If it came to it, he could always fling him towards the FBSC agents as bait.

A sharp pain shot through Tala's body, making him wince involuntarily. One of the hounds had dissipated something that usually didn't bother him as much since he was always medicating with painkillers. But now that all the fentanyl had worn off, even the slightest pinch felt like agony.

Gripping his gun tightly, he cautiously opened the barn door with its nozzle. The agents outside were still occupied by the hound, giving them time to take out the agents inside. Peering through the crack in the entrance, he saw two or three officers on patrol. With a slight movement of his head, he signaled for Boris to join him. Without hesitation, they both entered and shot each agent precisely and quickly. Suddenly, another one descended from upstairs, but Boris dealt with him swiftly.

The pair entered the stables, where they encountered two more agents and took them out. Inside the house was incredibly run-down—the wallpaper hung in tatters and even some of the masonry had crumbled away. The floorboards seemed to be shakily held together.

They quietly approached the window at the front of the house and peeked out. He could see several vehicles parked outside. Taking one of those as a getaway option seemed like their only solution, though he knew that the FBSC would follow them until he managed to replace it with something else.

The sound of loud barking from outside was followed by a searing pain that sent Tala to his knees. His fingers dug into the wall as if he was trying to keep himself from fainting

Briefly, Boris noticed five clear claw marks where he had been gripping the wall but then the moment passed as agents stormed through the door. He hastily threw Tala's arm around his shoulder and hoisted him up. Though curses of protest were audible, Boris paid no attention, instead quickly firing off several shots.

They ran through a number of shabby rooms and passageways until they came upon the remains of what had once been a kitchen. From there, they could find their way back to the forest and its cover.

Just as he kicked open the door, an agent jumped out from behind an old oak tree in the center of the clearing, hands raised in surrender. "I mean no harm!"

Tala's eyes peeled wide at the sound of the familiar voice. "Matteo?" He moaned.

Lowering his arms, Matteo removed his mask and took a few steps forward. Quickly scanning Boris for any signs of danger before shifting his gaze onto Tala again, he said with some humor, "Damn, looking real good there."

For what it was worth, Tala gave a small chuckle at Matteo's comment. At least this told him that Matteo was still on their side - something that brought him considerable relief. "How are things looking?"

Matteo had a serious look on his face. "The agents went to investigate and then lost contact with you, plus the body count didn't look right. Rachel assumed that you had gone rogue," he said.

Tala nodded in agreement before interjecting sarcastically. "How convenient."

Matteo continued the conversation, wondering out loud what could have happened at the disaster site they were surveying. He then switched his gaze to Boris, a question written all over his face.

Tala quickly shook his head as if to say not to bother asking. "As for what happened..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not even sure myself. There was some kind of fiend there but no rift in sight."

Before Matteo could reply they got startled by a sudden sound. "Get.." He commanded in a whispering tone. "Follow the path down here, at the end you will find a small rural area I'm sure you know what to do with that."

"Got it." Tala acknowledged, and kept going down the path. Boris was still insisting on following him, but he knew that he wasn't one to quit easily. "Must be a genetic thing," Boris grumbled. No, fuck that. Not a chance in hell we're blood related. He insited on denying.

As they walked down the street, his eyes caught sight of an old patrol car parked on the side. He pulled out a pocket knife and used its back end to break open the window behind the driver's seat, unlocking it from the inside. He pried open the hood and inspected what he found there: a tangled mess of wires.

Taking a deep breath, he began to think logically about how to solve this. With his fingertips, he slowly traced each electric connection until he was left with just two wires. He then took out his knife again and cut them both in the middle before taking a screwdriver and wrapping one copper wire around its metallic tip and holding the other against it. There was a click, followed by the roar of the engine starting up.

He turned around to see Boris standing by the driver's door. "No way," Tala stated bluntly.

"I'd feel better if someone drunk was driving than you in that state, so shut up and get in." Boris commanded.

Tala had no choice but to acknowledge that his logic was valid; but that condescending tone really grated on him. "Whatever," he mumbled as he got in the passenger seat.

It didn't take long for the two of them to get to Moscow—only a little less than an hour on the road. But they still hadn't said a single word to each other. Tala was stuck: he couldn't ignore Boris, but he also knew that being around him was going to be trouble. He would have to keep an eye on him, always, because Boris seemed determined to cause chaos wherever he went.

From the corner of his eye, Tala watched as Boris drove his worn-out car with the enthusiasm of an old man enjoying his prized possession. It felt almost surreal that this man had caused so many nightmares and made Tala so messed up when it came to being human.

At some point, Tala wondered if he was using the FBSC as an excuse to simply stay on the battlefield, because it felt like home.

A few swift motions of his hand put Boris in the direction of the workshop. It was still dark out, just before 3 am. Luckily the FBSC were too wise to engage during the day, giving them a bit more time.

As he emerged from the passenger seat, he was once again reminded of his limitations. But he fought through it; just a little bit more and he could quiet the voices in his head, ease his suffering and replenish before the next battle.

Boris followed him calmly, taking note of his actions. He had believed that he understood the captain of his team completely, but the events of the last two weeks had piqued his curiosity. Had he lost his mind? Boris had no doubt about it. So what motivated him to press forward? What drove him to sink his teeth into this endeavor involving cults, FBSC, and BBA?

It was amazing to see how Tala bounced back from his time in Australia, convinced he had reached his limits. Yet years later he made a comeback and managed to overcome the huge threat alone.

Boris never denied that the redhead had strength beyond what was humanly possible, but could not figure out its source. After discovering he was Alyosha's son, it all started to make sense. The two brothers had been estranged prior to his birth; Alyosha was strong and a leader while Boris had an unrivaled keen mind. He found it funny that his older brother had died after spiraling into depression and alcohol abuse, but now understood it might have been the key to what was happening.

Boris took a few moments to himself as he meandered around the workshop. His interest in the gehenallis wasn't just coincidental; from an early age, he was drawn to stories like his great grandfather's that spoke of a kind of sacred beast that could grant seemingly supernatural powers. Unfortunately, Boris' father refused to talk about it, leaving him without any real evidence. Now years later Boris had realized he was speaking of the Gehenallis.

Still, there had to be something behind why Tala could summon hounds from another realm and why they were both resistant to the fiend's influence. Like Alyosha, Tala's pursuit of power was unyielding. He rejected Boris at every turn unless it would bring him closer to his goal. Even after sending him off on dangerous errands, Tala would come crawling back. But as time went on their minds began to decay, with Tala now taking whatever he could find in his environment to keep himself going. What exactly was he thinking? That remained the biggest mystery for Boris. The similarities between them were uncanny: same motives, same methods... It was only their end goals that were different. Whereas Alyosha had nothing worth living for, Tala still seemed driven by purpose.

"So what was that then?" Boris muttered to himself. He headed towards the office and saw the redhead struggling to handle a vial and a needle. It was uncertain if Boris could still reason with him or not.

He stepped closer, firmly taking the other man's shaking hand in his. "Don't," Boris commanded.

In response, he got an icy look from Tala, his eyes had gone dark—it seemed to be a common occurrence when he was angry or fighting. Still, Boris stayed put.

Glancing over, he saw an ajar drawer. He could make out the distinct features of Wolborg's Beyblade under a photograph. The bey was severely damaged; it had rust and some parts were totally blackened. In the photo, there was a woman with a glowing smile. He recognized her but couldn't remember from where. It was funny to him that he held such strong emotions–which BioVolt was designed to suppress–yet Tala had managed to conceal them so well from him.

He turned his attention back to Tala, he had a look in his eye as if he was going to snap Boris's head off at the slightest misstep now. He had to be carefull. This wasn't the kid anymore you could shackle to a wall.

Tala stared at him for a long moment, his eyes flickering with something that Boris couldn't quite read. He felt fear, but also intrigued.

The next words, Boris had to pick them very carefully. "Your mind is a battlefield, be it's commander, not its soldier."

Tala felt shock wash over him as Boris, the person he most wanted to see gone from his life, was the one speaking those words. The mere thought of it made his rage build up inside; had years of repressed anger and despise finally come to a boiling point? Or was it because he had to admit that what Boris said made sense?

"You don't know the slightest thing." His voice gruff with irritation.

Boris could feel the intense energy coursing through Tala's body. He needed to tread carefully, but he also needed to confront him. He knew better than to push him any further. He let go of Tala's hand and took a few steps back, giving him some space to calm down.

"I don't," Was Boris' reply. "And asking you to trust me is something I cannot even begin to request from you. But have you ever gone beyond that point, because now you can take that chance."

"Chance?" Tala's eyes flickered. "We don't do chance, remember?" He spat as he slowly rose from the chair, his hand gripping the desk tightly. "Succes, accomplishments, strength..Remember?!" His finger pointed at Boris.

Again Boris took a step back feeling to the wall behind him drawing closer. Momentarily his eyes went to Tala's hand, again.. those marks. But he regained his posture, made himself tall and stepped closer. Their faces now inches apart.

"I remember," Boris replied, meeting Tala's gaze without flinching. "But sometimes, we need to take a chance. We need to take a leap of faith. Otherwise, we'll never know what we're truly capable of."

Tala's eyes narrowed as he stared at Boris, his breathing heavy and labored. "And what do you propose?" he asked, his voice laced with anger and frustration.

Boris took a deep breath before answering. "I propose that we work together. That we put aside our differences and focus on our common goal. We both want to stop the FBSC and the cults. We both have something to protect. And we both want to find answers to the questions that haunt us."

Tala took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes slowly returning back to their normal color. That day.. when they spoke at the graveyard and Boris had asked him to deal with the cults. It was like killing two birds with one stone. One way or another he was going to run into Boris so he might as well just use him, but he couldn't never have imagined it was going to be like this.

What bothered him most was that the urge to kill Boris wasn't present. In fact, it felt reassuring having him around, and this infuriated Tala more than anything. He wanted to hate him, wanted to despise him, yet could not bring himself to do so. Maybe it was fatigue from the day's events, or maybe he just couldn't face any more stressors. But every word uttered by Boris seemed to ring true; it was almost as if Tala cursed his own intuition.

Tala felt it was safe to keep him around, judging from his reaction earlier; Boris had no chance of overpowering him. He needed to trust the man's word.

As he calmed down, Tala became aware of the noise in his head. His priority was getting some sleep, even if it was only for an hour or so.

He used his arm to push Boris aside and made his way to the sofa. He kicked off his boots, tried not to focus on the blisters, and started unzipping his body armor - only to receive a sharp pain from his torso. He quickly zipped it back up: better to be uncomfortable than in more pain.

The moment he laid down he felt wide awake again, much to his annoyance. The outside world was alive, cars passed by, and the sound of trucks reverberated through the walls as they drove over the shitty roads. It was barely morning now, but with the past 48 hours feeling so incredibly unreal he was even unaware of what day it was.

He heard Boris take a seat in one of the chairs opposite the sofa, flipping through Tala's notebook from the warehouse. Boris had knowledge that Tala desperately lacked; every time he thought he had something figured out, more questions than answers would pop up.

There were moments when he yearned to be back at the abbey with Spencer, Brian and Ian; even if they hadn't seen each other in weeks or even months, they were always there for him when he needed it most. But now…he had to depend on Boris as he couldn't bear the thought of any of them becoming like the monsters he saw, the ones he could destroy so easily as if it was second nature.

Turning his head to the side he looked over at Boris. He was absorbed in the notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration. That man looked nothing like his father, yet he had a feeling that Boris was the closest thing he had to family now. It was a strange feeling, one that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

As if sensing Tala's gaze, Boris looked up from the notebook and met his eyes. "All in due time, Tala.." as if he read his mind.

Tala rolled his eyes and turned his head back to face the ceiling. "Whatever,"

He didn't know he had been asleep until something jolted him awake. At first, it was disorienting: he couldn't tell what was happening or where he was. His sudden movement seemed to startle the other man in the room, Boris.

His stomach churned with a feeling of anguish. He felt an agony that wasn't his own... why?

He rubbed his hands over his face and looked down to find one of the hounds had laid his head there.

Shaking his head in confusion, Tala felt pressure on his lap. One of the hounds had laid its head there, though he was sure he hadn't summoned them. Glancing up at Boris, he saw the man looking rather uncomfortable as the other four paced restlessly around the office.

In comparison to Tala, Boris's skill set was significantly weaker. But even he could tell something was off. He glanced at Tala seeking some sort of validation.

"Do you still believe this is a good idea?" The redhead murmured in annoyance. He was too sober, so everything felt like it struck him like a truck. Every sound and sensation seemed to come from one single direction.

"Something strange is happening at the stadium." As he stood up and opened the window, sunlight flooding in,

Boris nodded thoughtfully. "But I doubt that's enough to cause this level of activity in the air."

Then it clicked for Tala – today was the day of that match: F-Dynasty versus Grand Belladonna or something similar. "Damn it, how could I forget!" he cursed under his breath while striding from the office to the workshop quickly.

He tugged the cover off a car, causing the dust to burst into the air. A matte black Subaru Impreza was revealed beneath. It was the old Rally model, but instead of keeping it blue, Tala had painted it an inconspicuous color. This came in handy during his time providing financial support to his brothers through means that were not always legitimate.

Boris asked skeptically if the vehicle would be able to handle the busiest time of traffic. But Tala just gave him an ecstatic smile, which was such an unusual expression for him that it caught him off guard.

This is a damn 2.5 turbocharged boxer engine, of course it is going to take us across the fucking city in less then 5 minutes. But what do you know you dumbfucked old man. "Yes," Tala stated.

Boris raised an eyebrow at Tala's sudden change in demeanor but said nothing. Instead, he followed Tala as he jumped into the driver's seat and revved the engine.

Tala weaved through the traffic with ease, using his driving skills to their fullest capacity. Meanwhile, Boris held on for dear life, his knuckles turning white as Tala took sharp turns and cut off other drivers.

Boris, never one for faith, sent a desperate plea to the heavens.

A/N

Bad Wolves - Zombie

The original, from the Cranberries had been covered by them in 2018.

Thank you MKverse for your helpfull feedback on this chapter!