Death and the Vibrant Architecture of Rebirth

by goldenyuusha

A century had passed since Zero had sealed himself away. After being awoken by the Neo Arcadian king X, Zero finds himself in an unfamiliar, perfect world with no one to turn to but his old partner. But cracks start to form in the perfect things he once held dear, and Zero must accept that they may be set in stone forever. An MMZ AU where Neo Arcadia finds Zero before Ciel.

14. Chapter Thirteen

AN: uh. salam.

so, i realise its been about a year since I updated. I am in the midst of the first year of my phd, so most of my life has been dedicated to that. still, ive been pretty lazy, sorry everyone. i hope this is satisfying enough. i'm not super thrilled with the quality, and i feel bad for giving you guys a kind of nothing chapter, but ill try have things moving along soon.

it'd be remiss of me to write a story like this and not bring up what is happening in the real world. please, keep fighting for a free Palestine. if anything, keep sharing their stories, that's more important than ever. if this message makes you uncomfortable, or you're wondering, 'why is this relevant', then just know you are currently reading a story revolving around apartheid and genocide...

anyway, sorry for the wait. ill try be better next year! i really do want to keep writing this little pet project of mine. hope you enjoy.

---

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Zero had been dead for 52 years.

52 years, 7 months and 3 days. Every day since then, X woke up alone and cold in his bed, wondering when Zero would come back to him from wherever he had gone, thinking of what to say to him when he did.

But he wouldn't come back. Even if X made two cups of coffee in the morning and hung up two towels and kept his side of the bed neat and tidy for him to return to, Zero was gone. All the things that reminded him of his partner- the sound of his voice in the other room, his footsteps going up and down stairs, his laugh, they were gone, only living as an echo in his mind.

The sun was setting over the Somali coastline. X stared at a crescent moon hanging faint in the sky, clouds tinted pink and orange. The westering sun glowed an intense yellow, the distant sunset shimmering gold above the water from some place far, far away. The wind howled from the ocean, shrubs and bushes swaying with the breeze. X's hair, greying and long, batted his face, his helmet held at his side.

The smell of sea salt and the woody smell of the juniper tree he stood under burned in his nose. It was the last place X had spoken to Zero before he died.

He came here every so often, seeking catharsis, or some sort of enlightenment, but it only left him feeling empty. All he wanted was to turn around and see Zero in all his beautiful glory standing there, having returned from where he'd disappeared into the vast ocean, but dry grasslands was all there was around him.

Zero was thin and gaunt that day, porcelain skin transformed and face warped into a blank stare like he was already dead. Zero had faced the threat of death so often in his life, but he always came back. This time, it felt permanent, for he was the one who chose to die.

That was what hurt X the most. Zero wasn't ripped away from him. He wasn't killed. He hadn't fallen ill with some sort of horrible virus that sapped him of the vibrant life in his body. Zero decided for himself. He chose death. It was completely voluntary, and yet, it felt all so unavoidable.

He ripped a blade of grass out of the ground and wrung it in his fingers. He had nothing of Zero. No body to bury. No ashes to scatter. Only his fading memory of him slowly distorting with time. He was here, and then he wasn't. For years after he had died, X couldn't even bring himself to throw out his garbage, his unfinished paperwork strewn across his desk. He only did after they had established Neo Arcadia and he was forced to move out, but it didn't feel good. It didn't feel like he was moving on. He didn't know how he could return to his mundane life in the midst of grief. It felt absurd.

He saw Zero in everything. Insignificant things suddenly became everything to him. Zero was the sun and the moon, every bird and flower. He saw him in the sunset- his death plunging his world into darkness. He let the wind take the plucked blade of grass from between his fingers.

He sat down and watched the sun vanish beneath the horizon. The ocean breeze blew by him, and with it came the whisper of Zero's voice, his last words, uttered again and again in the billowing wind.

Sometimes he pondered the idea that he should've gotten over it by now. It certainly presented itself, the idea of moving on from the past. It was what he hoped Neo Arcadia would come to encapsulate- a better world free from the evils of what happened before.

Though progress asserts itself, it seemed as distant as the setting sun, and regardless, X didn't want it. He couldn't let go. He stood alone, gaze untethered and faraway. Every day, the uncaring sun set, the world churned on, and he was still not dying.

"Axl's kids are one and a half today," X whispered, like the wind would take his words to wherever Zero had gone. "Axl and Signas. They had kids by the way. Twins."

Twins, a girl and a boy, with silvery shining hair and tan skin dotted with freckles. Signas would step in front of them when X passed them by, like a deer shielding its fawn.

"They don't talk to me much anymore. None of them do."

X plucked another blade of grass from the bush beside him and let the wind whisk it away.

"I really should be happy for him. Axl's a dad now. He's happy. Older." X held his hand aloft in the air, like he was reaching for some intangible hand. "I should be happy. But I'm not. How am I supposed to be happy? Everytime I look at them, I just get so… I don't know. Is this it? I'll never find comfort in the arms of anyone else but you, Zero. Is that it? Is that the end of it?"

He could feel tension simmering in his chest when he admitted it.

"Why do they get to be happy? What did they do to deserve it that I didn't? I've lost so much more than they ever will, and I get nothing. Why do they get to be happy but not me? What did I do to deserve this?"

He grit his teeth and breathed out hard. "Is it so bad to want them to feel the same way I do?" he asked. "Today, I yelled at them- Axl and Signas, I mean. I don't know why. I was just fed up with seeing them so happy. I hated seeing their kids. And I can't stand everyone else thinking they know how I feel! I just…"

He picked up a rock and stood up, where he hurled it into the ocean with a yell. It skirted the serene surface a couple times before disappearing under the water.

"That was supposed to be my life!"

The breeze dampened his voice, and took his anger into the sea.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this! We were supposed to grow old together!" X screamed aimlessly. "What am I supposed to do now?! That was supposed to be us!"

He covered his eyes with his arms, teeth grit and tears welling up in his eyes.

"Why'd you leave me here, Zero?!" He screamed into the night. "Am I supposed to know what to do? The sun still sets every day and I'm still here without you."

The days passing by erased everything he had learned prior.

"What now?!"

There was no answering sound, no catharsis, no unburdened relief. His face was wet with the permeating ocean air.

X let out a heavy sigh and sat down. There was no one around. He was exactly where he was 52 years ago, surrounded by empty plains and wandering through juniper, alone.

"What now, Zero?"

He grabbed another pebble and tossed it into the brush. from the undergrowth, a single crow emerged, the big black bird flying low overhead with wings whooshing over the sounds of waves.

X stood up, watching the crow fly over, its black feathers painted in the colours of the sunset. It was flying inland to where the shadow of the distant Neo Arcadian skyline was disappearing into the night sky.

His teeth were grit behind lips drawn tight. Was it a sign of things to come? He didn't know if that black bird had any significance. Maybe, with his mind swimming, he could find meaning brimming in everything.

Zero was gone, but X carried a version of him with him, and he would look for him wherever he went.

---

"Knock knock. Anybody home?"

The safe house Ciel chose for their meeting was neither safe, nor was it really a house anymore.

The building was a crumbling apartment complex from before Neo Arcadia, rooms and ceilings withering away as time took its toll. It had been perhaps a century since anyone lived in the confines of these walls, rotting furniture piled up in corners and light sifting through dirty, fogged up windows in scant rays. Ciel was sitting at a table, staring at a sturdy laptop that looked more like a brick than a computer. It had a tangle of wires plugged into its many ports, all cork-screwing and inserted into different devices. There was a pistol laying on the table, right next to where she rested her hand.

Spider was sure they were important, but he hadn't the slightest idea what they were supposed to do. He let down his new-gen disguise in front of her, the average reploid facade disappearing in a flurry of bent light to reveal the gambler beneath.

She looked up from her laptop at the sharply dressed reploid. Unblinking, Ciel grabbed the pistol and pointed it in Spider's direction.

"Confirmation code."

Spider had his hands over his head. "Sierra-November-Romeo-Two-Zero-Four."

"SNR-204. Charlie-Golf-Lima-Eight-Three-Nine."

"CGL-839," Spider parroted back. Confident they were both who they said they were, Ciel set aside her weapon, and Spider let his arms dangle at his sides. "Good afternoon, G7-E."

"SR-NT-664. Spider. You're late," Ciel said, blunt. Spider made a noncommittal grunt, swiped the dust off the table and sat in a rickety chair opposite her.

"You're telling me," Spider replied. "Do you always have to point that thing at me?"

"Yes." Ciel lowered her laptop screen and pushed it aside, leaning in with a severe glare. "Because you could've been anyone, Spider. Do you manage to get the Supra-Force Metal they were transporting?"

Wholly ignoring the steely glare Ciel had cast his way, Spider slumped back in his seat with a smarmy grin, procuring a cylindrical storage container from thin air with the flair of a magician. The room was bathed in its multi-colour shimmer, the rod stored within phasing in and out of their measly three dimensions. The solid crystalline, tetragonal lattice spanned dimensions, its matter persisting in the particulate interactions. A truly alien element to the tripartite people of the third planet.

He gently set it onto the table in front of Ciel, looking like the cat who ate the canary. "I believe a 'thank you' is in order, Doctor."

Ciel flicked her head-mounted magnifiers over her eyes and picked the cylinder up with a light touch, rolling it in her hands. She flitted through various deinterleaving lenses on her goggles, wordlessly assessing the cylinder with intense discernment.

After a silent pause, she placed it back on the table and pushed her headset back over her head. "It's the real deal. It's amazing Neo Arcadia still has this. You're a miracle worker, Spider."

"I almost got blasted off the face of the earth by X's bootlicking kids for it," Spider said. "You're welcome."

Ciel's grimace lifted, her expression softening as appreciation tempered her. "You have no idea how grateful I am, Spider. Thank you," she said. "This could change everything for us. If I can figure out how to harness this thing's potential, we'd be laughing all the way to the bank, Spider. We'd be tapping into what might be a limitless source of energy. We could solve the energy crisis- we could stop the massacres, the culling. The bombings and the bloodshed. No one will have to fight or struggle to see another morning again. We can live under unlimited abundance, like our ancestors did. We can live together as equals, all of us, all the human-likes, with no one left behind. We won't have to rely on Neo Arcadia, the people who poisoned the air and water and murdered with impunity. We can return to the land. We can finally be free, be equal. Everyone, from wall to wall, to the desert and the sea. I'll never stop dreaming about that day."

Ciel reached for the cylinder, but before she could take it, Spider had pocketed it and hid it away with some sleight-of-hand, leaving her grasping for air.

"Aht. Ciel. See, I like you, and I like what you do. But…"

Spider outstretched an expecting hand, palm splayed out for an offer.

"We had a deeaal."

Ciel's eyes narrowed, her smile twitching with barely contained irritation. "Ah. Yes, give me a moment."

She tilted the screen of her laptop up and scoured through files for a moment before ejecting a small datastick and dropping it in Spider's waiting hand. "That's for your people at the OSA. It contains everything you need pertaining to Neo Arcadia's broadcasting network and an executable to give you full access to it. You just need to get in. The main building is at the outskirts of the city centre." She turned her screen around to show Spider, revealing a profile of a non conspicuous, older, chubby male reploid with thin white hair and pockmarked pale skin. "I've uploaded this man's information on our cloud. He's the chief data security officer of the entire network. Impersonating him should be easy enough."

She reached for a briefcase under her chair and pushed it towards Spider on the table. It opened to a small stun pistol and a lanyard with the target's staff ID attached. Spider nodded, placed the data stick inside along with the other items, and closed the case, setting it at his feet.

"And for you," she started, turning her laptop back around. "I'll wire through your payment. It should be in your account shortly. I've added a little extra for your troubles."

"You shouldn't have," Spider said, though he wasn't going to challenge it. "It's a pleasure working with you and the Resistance, Doctor."

Spider extended a hand, and Ciel shook it. As promised, Spider withdrew the cylinder of Supra-Force Metal from wherever he had hid it away and into Ciel's hand.

"Thank you. Oh, before you go, I've got another thing, actually," Ciel recalled, returning her attention to her laptop. "I've been working on something you might be interested in."

Spider raised his brow. "Is that so?"

"I've been working on a facial recognition algorithm in my free time. I've trained it on a library of our more prolific agents, like, eh, you and Vile and so on. I've paired it with a bit of automatic image processing. So…"

She turned her laptop around, showing Spider a clip scraped from Neo Arcadian surveillance footage. In a crowd of reploids filtering onto a train, Spider could make out the face of a Rebellion operative. "I'm sure you'll like this trick. This is the raw data. And this-" she turned her laptop around to type something in before showing Spider her screen again. "This is what it looks like when it gets to Neo Arcadian data centres."

The operative was gone from the crowd, his absence filled in artificially by the program. Spider squinted and leaned in, trying to parse any details that would've been missed, any reflections or shadows or artefacts that indicated tampering, but there wasn't anything the naked eye could pick out. "That's impressive. We can be anyone and no one all at once."

"Yep. Since Neo Arcadia's data transfer network occurs over the cloud, if I can get this into the main data centre, I'll be able to intercept any relevant data transfers and process them, erasing any evidence we were anywhere," she assured. "Look, it's not perfect. They'll recognise there's been tampering involved. Even then, they shouldn't be able to recover the original footage or images, or track the program down. It's an invisible process."

"That seems like dangerous technology, to be honest. Changing the truth on the fly like that. Neo Arcadia would be thrilled to get their hands on tech like that."

"I realise that."

Ciel didn't expand on it. Spider crossed his arms. "Well, anyway, how are you expecting to get into Neo Arcadia's central data centre? That's a whole other ballpark from the broadcasting network, you know."

"I already have, Spider."

He blinked, incredulous. "Of course you have. How've you done that?"

It was Ciel's turn to be smug. "Because I didn't work on it alone. Developing this would be a lot of trouble for one person. I'd be stupid to do it myself- more stupid than I already am, that is," she explained. "Most of this was programmed by someone else."

Spider's lips drew tight. "Who would that be?"

"A collaborator. Somebody acquainted with Neo Arcadia's highest echelons."

All Spider could do was laugh. "Now who could that be?"

Ciel pursed her lips and shrugged. "That's all I can say."

Staring at her for a beat, Spider made a semi-amused huff and got to his feet, briefcase in hand. "Well, I won't stick around and pry. You must be busy," Spider said. "You stay safe out there. Neo Arcadia's really cracking down on our ilk these days. They're breaking into homes, businesses. Tearing down tent cities and detaining the homeless. Arresting whoever even showed the slightest inclination for reform or change. They have no shame, honestly."

"Oh, I know. I've seen what they're saying on TV." Ciel shut her laptop and collected the other devices strewn about the table into a large case. "He's looking for Zero. He's been declared missing for a couple days now."

"I've noticed." Spider rolled his head back, shooting Ciel a critical look. "Say, you wouldn't have anything to do with that whole situation, would you?"

Ciel shook her head, but the faintest of smiles crossed her lips. "I'd never tell."

Spider had heard all he needed to know. He took on his newtype disguise and was swiftly gone again, like a whisper into the breeze.

---

The Resistance headquarters were a winding, expansive labyrinth that felt more akin to the inside of a termite mound than a base of operations.

The architecture reminded Zero of the old world, of the maverick Hunter headquarters and hideouts scattered across the globe. The corridor walls and floors were clad with worn and battered metal, plastic and fibreglass that groaned with every step taken, piping and wires winding up and down like snakes. Yet, the lustrous sheen of modern technology was wrapped by the irreversible effect of time and nature taking hold, green splashes of winding vines and bushes having burst through weakening seams in the walls and patches of dirt and grass covering where tile had broken off.

In the yawning hallways, somehow a breeze was blowing, kicking up leaves and pieces of faded scrap paper, despite Zero guessing they were several feet underground with no doorway to the aboveground world to speak of.

Despite Zero having shown himself to the Resistance, the depths of the tunnels were sparsely populated. As Zero meandered through the base with Craft, he only came across a few Resistance denizens milling about the halls. Their voices and footsteps were the only things to be heard for endless stretches of tunnel.

"I'm not sure how you can even find your way around here."

Having traversed most of the base, Craft and Zero made their way back to the more densely populated upper chambers, back through a maze of tunnels and doorways to the main hall. "I know. It's supposed to be like that," Craft replied, "but you'll get used to it. Everyone finds it confusing at first."

"No kidding," Zero huffed. It was the middle of the day according to his internal chronometer. The hall wasn't exactly bustling, with only a few reploids and humans to be seen sitting at the tables, passing the time with aimless chatter. They only briefly looked up from their conversations to steal a fleeting glance at Zero as he entered. "Where's Ciel?"

"She's away on some kind of business," Craft answered. "Why'd you ask?"

"...No reason." Zero pulled up a chair at an empty table and took a seat. Craft sat opposite him. He bristled, overly aware of the stares honing in on him. He drowned out the klaxons of his acute threat detection system. "Was just asking."

Truthfully, he just wanted to be around some semblance of a somewhat familiar face to feel safe. He didn't even know Ciel all that well. The truth was that he was in a strange place surrounded by strange people. People who could be considered, by some definitions, mavericks.

Zero hunched over, trying to avoid meeting the stares of the people around him. Even after spilling his heart out to them, he would be remiss to say they had any reason to trust him all too well. Craft tapped Zero's arm, asking for his attention. "Stressed out?"

"A bit."

Zero managed an awkward laugh. Craft's lips straightened into a line and he nodded, though he was looking elsewhere. Between them, there was a deck of cards on the table for anyone to use. Before long, they were in his hands.

"Its normal." Craft shimmied the cards from their carton and flicked through them, their backings water damaged and crinkled from years of use. "To tell you the truth, I was scared the first time I came here too. You know, of what the others thought of me. It's kind of funny to look back on, a guy like me being afraid of a group almost exclusively made up of starving civilians. Even now, I doubt most people here can trust me as far as they can throw me."

Zero's wandering mind showed itself in his listless gaze. "I don't know if I can even give them a reason to trust me," he opined. "I think they expect a lot from me, and as it stands now, there's nothing I can do for them, really… All that I can do for them is just leave. Get out of their way, and all that. It hurts that I can't do what they need me to do. Not like this, the way I am right now."

Craft frowned, setting a splayed fan of cards on the table. "Zero…" he lamented. "Changing how things are right will take a lot more than one person can muster. Even at your prime, you couldn't do it alone, helping all these people, doing away with this corrupt government. Maybe they can hope that your presence will fix everything, but it's not that simple. Nothing is. They know that. The age of heroes is over, if it ever existed. It's just natural to want to cling to the idea of one, even in the face of dismal odds."

"I know. I've just never been in this situation- running away, I mean," Zero said, "and not knowing what I can do. What my place is in this whole thing, and stuff like that. Not knowing what I can do to help without my strength."

Zero wanted to change the world. He could only wish life was like a vast, winding tapestry. If he wanted to fix it, all he needed was to tear out the bad things and weave good things in his place. Didn't anyone else want a better world? How could injustice linger for so long, with no one having uprooted it?

Though, perhaps that line of thinking was why X was doing what he was doing now. The thing was, there were so many bad things, tearing it all up would inevitably lead to more bad things, and so on and so forth. Maybe it would be better to start from scratch.

Maybe it's me. Maybe I need to fix something wrong with myself, the part that always sabotages everything, came a malevolent thought, flashing in Zero's mind. Craft let out a deflated sigh.

"Hrm. The thing is, if we all knew what to do, we'd have figured out this whole thing by then," he said, his tone laced with both dejectedness and humour.

"Yeah. I suppose you're right," Zero said. "I just can't help but feel bad. These people can't afford supporting my deadweight. I don't have the time to 'um-and-ahh' about it when there's people suffering."

"You'll think yourself in circles. Some things just are the way they are," Craft rebutted. "You will adapt. What other choice do you have? You can't die. You surely don't want to live grovelling and blind in Neo Arcadia."

Zero could only hope that faith wasn't ill-placed. He let out a forceful exhale, blowing a lock of hair from his face. Craft nudged Zero reassuringly.

"Come on, Spatzi. Sulking will get you nowhere," Craft chided playfully. "You're never gonna figure it out in a day. Give it some time. You can't feasibly fix everything all at once. Look, a lot of people are working on this thing- making things better. It's not all on you."

Managing a small smile, Zero huffed a soft, tired laugh, though it was born of anxiety and exasperation more than amusement. "You know, I don't know why you're still bothering to help me. You're back home now. You don't have to do anything for me anymore."

Craft leaned back in his chair. "You know what? I don't know why I'm doing this either," he admitted. "But it just seems like the right thing to do." Without breaking eye contact, Craft flicked through the deck of cards, shuffling them absentmindedly just to have something to do with his hands. "This isn't home to me anyway. Not really."

That made Zero cock a brow. "Then… where is 'home' for you?"

"Home is where we don't need to run anymore," he replied as a-matter-of-factly as saying the sky was blue. He offered a spread of cards Zero's way. "Want to see a trick? Pick a card."

It was out of the blue, but the pivot to something fairly trivial was a welcome respite for Zero's racing mind. He plucked a card from the fanned spread and looked at it. Seven of spades. "I don't get you."

"I don't mind. Put it back now," Craft replied. Zero did as told and Craft shuffled the deck. "Isn't it enough to help someone just because it's a good thing to do?"

"I guess it is. I just don't know what I did to deserve it. Any of this," Zero said. Craft laughed.

"You've done a lot of good for the world," he replied. Zero furrowed his brow.

"I caused this mess to begin with. You should hate me."

Craft shook his head. "You were asleep for a hundred years." He flashed a card. "Is this your card?"

Two of diamonds. Zero frowned. "No."

Craft grinned. Zero cocked his brow. "My bad." He flicked through the deck. "I don't think your card is here."

"I let Axl die. If I had done more for him he would have still been here."

"What could you have done?" he asked, flittering through cards. Zero tried to speak, but there was nothing to say. He didn't know. Even after having spent every night pondering what he could've done, he didn't know.

"If I had done something during his trial-"

"Zero, the sentence was set in stone years ago. It was a kangaroo court. It all is, every trial they do is a sham, pretending to give everyone a fair go at it when all they want is to wipe us off the face of the Earth," Craft said. Words came up short for Zero. It'd been months now since Axl's death, but it still weighed heavy on him like it happened yesterday. Zero put his chin in his hand and tried to keep himself from spiralling by watching Craft closely. "I see where I've gone wrong. I'm missing a card."

Craft reached behind Zero's head with an empty hand, and from nothing, a card appeared in his grasp. "Is this your card?"

A seven of spades, effortlessly conjured from nothing. Zero chuckled, sufficiently impressed. "How did you do that?"

"Magic," Craft replied with a lackadaisical intonation. He tapped the mass of cards back into a neat deck and slid them back into their carton. "Spider from the OSA, actually, he taught me a couple tricks. He's-"

"-Spider?-"

"-Much better than I am-"

"-You mean-"

"-at it."

"-The Spider?"

Neither could stop speaking until they were stumbling over each other's words. They stared at each other for a beat.

"What do you mean, the? He's an OSA union officer." Craft asked. Zero's brow rose under his helmet.

"The gambler Spider? Black hat, playing cards…?"

Craft's eyes darted aside. "Yes? What, you know him?"

"He was-"

"Mr. Craft!"

Zero would have to hold that thought. From the corridors came a tiny bundle of energy, a little girl with short blonde hair and a pink dress to her ankles. She skipped rather than walked, and never did she move in a straight line. In her hands was a white cat plush, clutched to her chest like her life depended on it.

"You're back!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Craft's wrist. She was so small, she could barely reach around the width of him. "We missed you so much!"

Craft laughed, scooping the little girl up like she weighed as much as a wet tissue and set her on the edge of the table. She was a reploid, Zero could tell, no older than seven or so. She was all giggles, her flaxen hair ruffled by a hand twice as big as her head.

"Graahh, I missed you too, you little snot," he replied, softening his ragged tone. "You've been good to Ciel and Neige while I've been gone, yeah?"

"All things considered, yes."

Zero straightened his posture as he turned to meet the voice to find Ciel approaching with Neige in tow.

"You're back," Zero said blankly. Ciel snickered and leaned on the table.

"Why, were you looking for me?" She asked, partly in jest.

"Where were you?" Zero asked, ignoring her question. Ciel shrugged a shoulder.

"Can't say. Nothing that should concern you, though," she assured. "How are you finding things around here, Zero?"

Zero slouched in his chair. Now that she was here, he did feel a touch more secure. Yet still, not as much as he would've liked. "I don't know how you keep the lights on in this place. It reminds me of the old Hunters' headquarters, back when," he said, "it's no small feat, running an operation like this without getting caught. I have to give you your flowers."

"Wait, you're Mister Zero!?" The little girl piped up, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. She was by far the loudest thing in the room. "Woah. Is it really you? Ciel said you were here but I didn't believe her… You know, I've read a lot about you, in books and stuff. I never thought I would meet you! You're really pretty in real life. And- and you're from a long time ago, right? Do you have any stories from before the war? I wanna hear all about it! I-"

Neige cleared her throat and stopped her in her tracks. "Why don't you introduce yourself first?"

The bright eyed little girl suddenly looked plenty sheepish, her cheeks going a soft shade of red. "S-sorry," she mumbled. "Um, my name is Alouette."

It seemed as though she was more so apologising to Neige than to Zero. He didn't mind. "Alouette. That's a nice name," he said regardless of her developing tact. The girl giggled and made herself small.

"Thanks…" she murmured. "Ciel says it's a word from France. She's really smart, you know. Have you ever been there? I've only ever seen old pictures."

"Well, yes, now that I think about it," Zero replied, the glimmer returning to Alouette's eyes.

"What was it like?" She asked. "Was it pretty?"

The aesthetics of any one place never was a priority for Zero's mindset, particularly when he was only there on a mission. Still, he'd humour her, or at least try to. He wasn't sure if there was a France to even remember anymore. "I suppose so. Many old buildings. Rolling mountains, things like that."

"Woah…" Alouette seemed to be more captivated by the idea of the old world than the multiple centuries old reploid in front of her. Zero supposed he couldn't fault her. "What else? Do you have pictures? What about any books, o-or movies! What was it like? We never got to read any books from before."

"Er…" Zero pursed his lips and crossed his arms. He could remember snowy peaks that pierced the cloud and invaded the heavens, lush forests and vivrant meadows spanning from each horizon, light dancing off grass swaying with the breeze, rows of old stone buildings brimming with a rich and storied history he wasn't privy to in each and every brick.

"I don't know… it was beautiful. I don't think my recollection could do it justice."

Before Alouette could prod any longer, Neige rested a hand on her back and reigned her in. "I'm sure he'd love to tell you more, but Doctor Ciel needs to talk with him right now."

Ciel's eyes widened, and she made herself proper. "Oh, yes, that's why I came here in the first place. Zero, you wouldn't mind if I could have you for a moment of your time?"

Zero stared at her a moment before shaking his head. "No. It's not like I'm doing anything right now anyway," he said, getting to his feet and gesturing to Craft to come with. He looked back to Alouette, who was looking up at him with big eyes like a kicked puppy. Zero dropped his shoulders and tipped his head to the side. He wasn't ever too good with children.

"Hey. Don't give me that look…" he cooed, kneeling down and setting a hand on her shoulder. She was so tiny and frail, like a porcelain doll under Zero's featherlight touch. "How's this for a deal? I'll tell you about all the stories about the old world I have. Anything you want to know. Just sit tight. I won't be long at all," Zero assured.

"Really?" She asked. Zero just smiled back and winked.

"Really," he assured. In an instant, her sweet little face lightened up like the sun ducking out from behind clouds. She hopped up and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him as tight as her little body could muster. She'd caught him completely off guard, drawing a wheeze from the legendary war hero and knocking him off balance a bit.

"Yay! Thank you Mister Zero! You're the best ever!" she exclaimed, nuzzling her cheek into his side. The adoration was so entirely genuine, so unlike the cold, detached reverence he'd garner in the midst of Neo Arcadia, that it made him feel, for once, welcome. He'd forgotten how nice it felt, to have a glowing warmth radiate in his chest.

"Aahhh, it's… it's nothing…" he stammered, awkwardly patting her on the head. Flustered, looked aside, finding Craft looking on and plenty humoured. "You go run along and play now. I'll be just a call away."

Peeling herself off of Zero, Alouette politely stepped away and hopped off the table, setting off, plush tight in hand. The four of them left behind took a few quick and expecting glances at one another, until Neige took it upon herself to take after her.

"Bye, bye! Thank you, Mister Zero! I hope we can play together sometime!" Alouette yelled out from over her shoulder. Zero couldn't reply in time before she had left behind closing doors, and once more, the hall was quiet, save for the distant humming of machinery and murmur of quiet conversation. Zero's face was still flushed pink and warm, his heart swelling.

Craft crossed his arms and smirked. "Cute," he said, a little sly at that. Zero just waved him off and rolled his eyes, but he wouldn't outright deny it. She was cute. Innocent and sweet, despite presumably having gone through hell and back. She was everything and everyone Zero had sworn to protect. While he couldn't fight for her, he had made her happier just by being there. That felt nice.

He was far from being in fighting form, but right now, Zero supposed that wasn't the be-all-and-end-all of things. Despite everything, he still had something of value to offer. He had to live.

Ciel led the way for the two war reploids, showing them down through the hallway, and Zero followed.

---

"Give me some good news."

Harpuia landed by X's side, kicking up a cloud of dust with the flap of his wings. He looked over the dismal outer sector's industrial district with his hands clasped behind his back. The sun was high in the sky, and yet the layer of smog that hung overhead had coloured it dim and red. X didn't even turn to look at Harpuia.

"We've conducted a thorough search, Master X," Harpuia began. X looked over his shoulder with a narrow glare. He'd let his silvery hair grow unruly from the brim of his helmet.

"And?"

"...We have nothing to say for it."

There was no immediate response, but X bristled under his armour. Harpuia swallowed and shrunk down.

"That's impossible."

Harpuia choked down the lump in his throat. "We've searched every square inch of this place. We've asked the workers and soldiers here for any leads, no one has seen anything out of the ordinary. Looked under the rubble and every fallen building. Even the homeless, they said they hadn't noticed anything strange," he said. "I don't think Zero's here."

X's jaw clenched, teeth grinding together. "Have you looked over the security footage? Drone footage?"

"Yes, sir. Nothing on that front either."

"The surveillance clearly showed them coming here. They couldn't have gotten far at all without being seen," X said with a scowl. "What about the nearby sectors? Has Phantom's team found anything interesting?"

"I haven't heard from them." Harpuia scratched the back of his neck.

That could only mean they hadn't found anything either. X stepped in place and stroked his chin pensively. After a moment of thought, he exhaled sharply with flared nostrils. "...How stupid could I have been, letting Craft live…? Much less let him get so close to Zero," he muttered to himself. "Are you so sure?"

"We've searched the area up and down three times already. We haven't even found Craft's ride chaser. Er, perhaps, sir, it's best we let our pantheon squadrons take on this operation, and our intelligence can monitor the situation remotely for any incident," Harpuia suggested, trying to hide his nerves behind a level tone. X stared off into the distance, silence speaking for himself.

"I've been too kind to these maverick terrorists. To think they would only ever just be a minor thorn in my side." X shook his head, harsh brow furrowing and hands forming fists. "I've no doubt they've been meddling with our data to hide their hand in Zero's kidnapping, doctoring our surveillance. Threatening and blackmailing the people here to keep quiet. Is that not what we're dealing with here?"

Harpuia folded his wings further and wringed his hands behind his back. "I can't say for certain-"

"Then think harder, Harpuia. This only happened because Craft got into his head! Craft, those mavericks, they took advantage of his naivete, his ignorance of this world. Took him away and messed with his mind, just as they did everyone else I trusted. I'm not letting them off lightly," X roared, his lackey flinching away with eyes squinted shut. "This entire municipality cannot know peace until I find him. You know how things are, the outer sectors are crawling with terrorists and their sympathisers. The OSA has its grip on these people. It's about time we do something about it. Those animals have wandered a bridge too far."

X whisked around with renewed resolve, stalking towards him like a hunting lion. He moved oddly, as though he was in pain, like his bones didn't quite fit together. Harpuia did the only thing that came to mind and kneeled.

"Continue your search. Turn over every stone, soar over every building, wade into every flooded tunnel. Find Zero. Find the Mavericks who did this. The sooner you do, the sooner we can move on from this foolish distraction. If nothing comes of it by the end of this week, I want this entire district levelled."

The brazen threat made Harpuia startle. "...That would gut this sector's productivity, sir."

"Then transfer the workers to other sectors that could use them," X said, standing firm. "Anyone you can't find a place for will be enlisted into our armed forces. Let them know disobedience will incur them jail time. At best. Understand?"

Heaving himself up from the ground, Harpuia looked sorry for himself, backing up from where his father stood. "And of the people who live here? The homeless take shelter in many of these old buildings."

"We will send out an evacuation order," X replied sternly, "don't forget that extremists use these abandoned buildings and subterranean ruins as a hideout too, Harpuia. Anyone who remains will be considered an accomplice to the terrorists and will be treated as such. Do I make myself clear? There will be nowhere for the enemy to hide. We just can't afford to show them mercy."

Harpuia bowed his head. "Yes, sir. If it comes to it, it will be done."

X glared at him a little while longer, before a smile came to him. "Good. Good boy," he said, patting Harpuia on the head. Harpuia bit back a groan. "At least I can always trust you to get things done around here."

There wouldn't be anything else said between them as X stepped away from the conversation, which it could hardly be called, to disappear into the rabble of the Outer Sector. Once out of sight and earshot, Harpuia stood straight, loosened his shoulders, and sighed to the soot and ash poisoned sky.

"Master Harpuia!"

He wouldn't have long to dwell. He turned to meet the familiar sight of his feline underling, Panter Flauclaws, slowly padding towards him with a group of soldiers in tow. Harpuia ruffled his wings and gathered himself. "Anything to report, Flauclaws?"

Much to Harpuia's dismay, Flauclaws shook his head. "We searched the old subway station as you advised," he said. His voice was harsh and gritty, like he was speaking with a snarl underpinning every word. "There were signs of a recent skirmish in the abandoned shopping centre, but I can't say for sure it involved Craft or Zero."

Harpuia raised his brow. "A fight? With who?"

"Malfunctioning security robots from before the Elf Wars. We have cleared the area of them and wheeled them off for scrap."

"I see. Then have you found anything that might suggest where they could've gone?"

"Our canine units caught a scent trail, but it led nowhere," he reported. "The old subway station is inundated with murky water. It's not easy to follow tracks."

Harpuia grumbled and knitted his brow. "That's less than ideal. If you can't find them I don't know who can," he said, wandering off to nowhere in particular to occupy himself. "Have you consulted the surveillance?"

"Many times!" answered Flauclaws, the panther taking to his side. "Hanumachine and Ganeshariff have run high-throughput facial recognition on all recent surveillance footage from the area some five or six times by now. They've scoured through it by hand. It's either they weren't here or our data has been tampered with."

His frustration had started to bleed into his tone. "I've started to suspect as much," Harpuia said. "I doubt that combatants of Craft and Zero's type could avoid detection for so long."

"It could be they have ventured into the Outside Lands, sir," Flauclaws offered, "we are quite close to the border walls."

"That shouldn't be possible. The entire circumference of the wall is guarded 24/7. It'd take several hundred tonnes of explosives to blow a hole substantial enough for a mouse to crawl through. It should block any dimensional tunnelling that'd let an unauthorised person to bypass it with a warp system," Harpuia mused. "But I suppose I can't just dismiss such an idea… we haven't found a thing. People have managed to escape before. I wouldn't be shocked if Craft knew a way around it- he used to work for us out there, now that I think about it. Whatever the case, Master X has asked us to continue our search for at least another week."

Flauclaws' tail started to flick. "This entire operation is already diverting much of our focus and resources away from other causes. More pressing causes," he grumbled, "can we really afford this?"

"I'm aware, but it isn't our place to question Master X's decisions," Harpuia chided, "Zero would be a significant asset for maverick organisations to have. It's in our best interest to have him returned home safely."

Panter Flauclaws just harrumphed, casting his gaze aside. "...Certainly," he eventually agreed, but the air of sarcasm was not lost on Harpuia. "What else did Master X say? He spoke to you for a while."

"He has requested that if our search comes up short, we are to evacuate and completely level this district."

Flauclaws' tail stood up straight, his blank eyes lighting up with disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious! You think I'd joke about something like that?!" Harpuia all but squawked. "This district is a festering pit of extremist activity. These old buildings and tunnel systems make for ideal hideouts for these dogs. No longer is it enough to simply fight back against these terrorists, we must take preventive action and dole out collective punishment as is necessary. We must leave nowhere for the mavericks to hide, even if it means rendering this entire municipality to ruins. They have underestimated our power for too long, we ought to show them what challenging Neo Arcadia will do to them."

Flauclaws stopped in his tracks, tip of his tail curving like a question mark and ears pointing back. "That would annihilate an entire branch of industrial output. We already struggle with managing basic resources as is."

"That's what I said… rest assured, the workers will be redistributed across different districts and enlisted to the defence force if able," Harpuia said brusquely. "It is the sacrifice that must be made if we are to do away with these mavericks-"

He would have to hold his tongue; Flauclaws stepped in front of him and stopped him in his tracks. The animaloid pulled up a hologram map from the console under his wrist panel. "The Old Al Xayaat Hospital is located here." He pointed at a blinking red dot. "There will be many patients that cannot be transported. Even if we succeed in eliminating the maverick threat, the Bosaso Strip will be left without vital infrastructure. That's not to mention the schools and residential buildings here. Can we really consider a scorched Earth approach? Civilian approval ratings will plummet if we act too rash."

Harpuia rolled his eyes and pushed the map aside with a dash of his hand, the hologram fading away. "We go over this every time…" Harpuia bemoaned, "Neo Arcadians, the ones that matter, anyway, care more about eradicating mavericks than they do collateral damage. Besides, much of the non-government infrastructure here is nothing more than a front for extremists and so on." Harpuia turned on a swivel, marching off. "They're only Outer Sector folk. They can be replaced. Nothing of significance will be lost."

Flauclaws stood down, snapping his wrist console shut. "Very well. We will see to it," he conceded, bowing his head in humility. "Anything else, sir?"

"I'll let you know if I'm given new orders," Harpuia said. "Go, continue searching. The faster it's done the sooner we can move on with our lives."

His understudy would not argue. Flauclaws stood stiff as a board and saluted. "Sir, yes sir!"

Bounding away to speak with his platoon, Flauclaws was gone, and Harpuia would be left in solitude again. This time, it was enduring.

The sun beat down on him, unrelenting, the ground shimmering with heat, winding canals having long run dry. Flies kept landing on his face, no matter how often he batted them away. The smog and dust clogged his ventilation, falling ash coating his pristine armour like snow. Harpuia aired out his wingspan and shuddered his armour, huffing hard through his respiratory vents to clear his systems before he found refuge in the shade of an old factory. The walls were plastered in layers of posters, calling for everything from union action to organised protests against an 'oppressive and violent government'. Little more than violent terrorist propaganda. If anything, it was the mavericks who were the enemy of peace. Neo Arcadia was just defending herself.

"Oh, Abba, father…" he murmured to himself, head held low. "Why can't I shake the feeling we are surrounded by dissent?"

He waited, as if there would be any answer. Harpuia sighed, coming to feel the twinge of shame that came with talking to oneself.

Harpuia ripped down the posters with little remorse.

---

The doors to Cerveau's office slid shut with a hiss behind Zero, Craft and Ciel. The silver haired reploid looked up from his desk, smiled, and set down his pen. A mess of notepads and blueprints strewn around him, his garbage pail overflowing with scrunched up pieces of scrap. An old plaque bearing his full name- Dr. Cerveau J. Rosenbluth, sat neatly on his desk, a souvenir from a previous life.

"Ciel!" He greeted her with a beaming grin. "And good afternoon, Craft, Zero. What can I do for you today?"

Ciel pulled up a chair and invited Craft and Zero to do the same. Zero took the hint, though Craft was content to lean against the wall.

"Well, it's not so much what you can do for me, per se…" She turned to Zero. "Now that we're all here, I actually wanted to ask you, Zero, and I hope this isn't too much to spring on you all at once, but… what… do you want to do with yourself now that you're here?"

The question made sense to ask, but it didn't make it any easier for Zero to answer. With everyone's eyes honing in on him, all coherent thoughts were dashed in favour of self-consciousness.

"Geahh…" He leaned back in his seat with his hands clasped behind his head. There was a lot he still didn't know about the world that would've most definitely helped him come to a decision. Until now, he mostly relied on others to point him in any one direction. Even as one of the world's greatest Maverick Hunters, when he was at his prime, he was always the one who was taking the truly important orders. He looked at the ceiling, and hummed, mulling over his options. He had said to Craft that his best bet was just leaving, but to where, he wasn't sure. All he knew was Neo Arcadia wasn't home, and, if he remained here, he was more of a liability for the Resistance than anything. Zero sighed and rubbed his shoulder.

"I… don't know. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," he finally admitted after being given a silent moment to think. Ciel bobbed her head, offering a sympathetic gaze.

"It's alright. I guess it was a loaded question to ask straight out of the gate…" Ciel supposed, clasping her hands in her lap and rocking upright in her chair. "Well, maybe a better question would be why you chose to seek us out in the first place?"

Zero looked to Craft, the most familiar face in the room, as if he'd offer any answers, but he remained tight-lipped. He couldn't read his mind, he only knew as much of Zero's motivation as he would tell him. Zero wilted in his chair, shoulder held tight and his throat bobbing. He had no heroic or righteous reason to come here- he knew he couldn't fight or be a spokesperson worth any merit.

"To tell you the truth, I just… needed to get away from X. That's why I came here," he confessed, words feeling thick in his chest. "It probably makes me sound selfish."

Cerveau reverently shook his head no and leaned over the table. "No, no, not at all! Many come to us to seek refuge from abysmal conditions. It doesn't make them selfish or cowards. You're as entitled to safety as everyone else is, Zero."

Zero's lips twitched into a line. "I don't know. I can't compare what's happening to me to what your people have gone through. The death and squalor, I didn't come from that. I came here straight from the citadel."

"You came here straight from the belly of the beast. Look, Zero, wherever you come from, we will help you. That is our duty as the Resistance, and, well, we will see to it until all are free," Cerveau assured, folding his hands over themselves. "The cruelty of the occupation doesn't pick and choose. We're all victims of it. Only a select few will ever benefit from the system, and even then, it's at a cost."

Cerveau had known Neo Arcadia far longer than Zero had. He couldn't, in his right mind, refute him, just because he had some self-absorbed class related guilt wracking him. The time for despair would come. For now, he'd just have to keep on going.

"Whether you, personally, think you're worthy of help, that's up to you to grapple with, Zero," Cerveau went on, "but you are a person, and that makes you worthy enough in our eyes."

The many lectures on Reploid 'personhood' he'd heard from Iris would come to mind for Zero, no matter how much he'd try to repress those memories, her ideas and journey to transcendence. Repression that included, by extension, his feelings for Iris.

"I guess I just don't get it. You know, why you'd even want to help me when there's nothing to gain from it and everything to lose," Zero lamented. "I ran away from this fight a hundred years ago, left you out to dry. I failed you. Took the easy way out. I was called a hero, but I'm nothing like that."

"I mean, you did it for years, Zero. Fighting the good fight for those who couldn't do it for themselves. Helping others isn't a transactional exchange, it's just something we do because it's the right thing to do. See, you may have already begun to feel some guilt stricken grief for us, but look! We're still alive. Don't cry for us yet," Cerveau said. "I'm not going to sit and act like everyone is happy with you, Zero, but that is wholly irrelevant to our cause. So, whatever you want from us, we will fulfil it to the best of our abilities."

Craft rolled his head back. "Zero, the thing is, despite what X says, you need to distance yourself from the idea of being a hero and train yourself towards solidarity. None of us are saviours, but we are all mutual partners in this march towards freedom."

Zero's mouth grew dry. In all those years of fighting against Sigma and his legacy of evil, Zero didn't know if he did any of it just because he thought it was the right or heroic thing to do, or if he just liked the fight itself. Whether he loved the innocent and victimised, or just loved to hate their oppressor. Regardless, it didn't look like any of them would back down. Whether he liked it or not, he would have to take them up on their offer.

"Fine. Then… if it's a plea for help you want from me, then I want to leave. Take me to that place you told me about, Tabula Rasa, or whatever you called it. The place beyond Neo Arcadia. I just want to be somewhere I can feel like I'm behind the wheel," Zero finally answered. "And I know that the right thing to do would be to stay and fight with you, but-"

"Very well then! If that is what you truly wish for, then we will arrange it," Cerveau cut him off, ensuring Zero's have no room for verbal self-flagellation. Zero pursed his lips, no more comfortable than he was beforehand. "Though, make no mistake, you're free to tarry here as long as you wish."

"...Is that it? You're just fine with me leaving?" Zero asked. "Didn't you seek me out in the first place so I could lend you my power?"

Cerveau rested the tip of his pen on his chin. "Well, yes, but as things are now, you wouldn't be much help out there, would you agree?" he said. It was blunt, and Zero wanted to be offended, but it was true. He would be deadweight in any dicey situation he'd find himself in. He was like everyone else, now. "My friend, we are all living in exile, displaced from a peaceful homeland. As long as we hold onto the keys to our homes, we will return one day. Now, Ciel?"

She jumped in her seat, having let her mind wander as they spoke. She raked her hand through her hair and looked aside. "Ah, yes… I'll set you up with everything for the journey, then," she said, heaving herself up by the armrests. "Bear with me!"

Ciel scurried away in a rush, disappearing into the depths of the Resistance base. Zero watched her go, looking at the door with a flat stare.

"Alright…" Zero turned back around in his chair to face Cerveau again, hands clasped on the desk. "Was that all you needed me for?"

"Oh. No, of course not, no," Cerveau said, getting out of his chair with a little skip. "Come, Zero sir, follow me. You too, big man." He tapped the side of Craft's shoulder. "I need you to run a few tests, if you don't mind. It'll keep you busy 'til Ciel comes back."

There was nothing Zero could do but follow him. "Tests? Why?"

"Why, because I've gone and developed an antidote for that restraining bolt of yours!"

"Really? You can do that?" Zero asked, incredulous. He followed Cerveau from his office and into the halls, the older looking reploid moving surprisingly well, spry as any. "Aren't you busy?"

"Well, yes. What, you think I can't do two things at a time? You know I have an MD and a PhD. It'll take me no time at all," Cerveau tattled on. Zero looked to Craft for his opinion, but he just smiled lazily and shrugged. "And yes, if I've understood the effects of the bolt correctly, indeed, we can do that." He swivelled around, walking backwards to face Zero, "hopefully," he added, turning around again.

"So you can fix me?"

Cerveau put his hands in his pants pockets and looked to the ceiling. "Eh… no, not quite. What a miracle that would be. No, it's simply a temporary solution, it gets your systems back to running as they did many years ago, or, at least, close to that," he corrected. Zero sighed, the glint of hope in his cold heart promptly extinguished. "But it'll give you a chance if you find yourself in trouble. See, you actually have to escape Neo Arcadia to get to Tabula Rasa. No shortcuts I'm afraid."

"Right…" Zero said. "And I can't leave from here because…?"

"Neo Arcadia would see you leave! Besides, our transervers don't work up there."

"And I can't warp out from Neo Arcadia?"

"The canonical transerver network has been bottlenecked by Neo Arcadia. Traditional systems, what you may be familiar with, only function within its walls."

"Then how did I get here?"

"It's a different system. It's more of a epidemensional tunnel instead of a warp system, one way in and one way out. My late colleague engineered it. If you want to go where you please, you'd have to use a dimensional tugboat. Our friends in the city will have no problem towing you past the wall. Neo Arcadia has a locus it doesn't know about."

"You know I have no idea what that means."

"Oh, I know." Cerveau shot him a sly grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling under his visor.

"Don't tease him, Cerveau," Craft scolded the engineer playfully. Zero harrumphed and pouted.

But sure, he couldn't leave from here, and their transport system was mostly useless to go anywhere but here.

They passed into the medical wing, by far the busiest department in the Resistance base Zero had seen. It was spick and span, mostly gray and white, terribly sterile and brightly lit by blindingly white fluorescent lights. The sweet and tarry stench of phenol and the chlorine laced bleach pervaded the air, almost dizzyingly strong. Medical workers were rushing back and forth, working tirelessly to tend to the wounded and sick, laying in rows of hospital beds. The conditions of the patients here didn't seem all too serious, at least, mostly superficial wounds that could be dealt with easily. They were largely civilian reploids, not at all cut out to deal with intense conditions.

Bowing his head and brushing his hair out the way of his face, Zero tried to ignore their stares. Of course the patients and nurses couldn't help but sneak a glance at the legendary reploid they'd heard so much about and expected so much from. The self-loathing eating away at him wouldn't let up, no matter what Cerveau told him. He'd failed them, he failed everyone.

"Rocinolle!" Cerveau hollered, putting his hands on his hips. Like he had rung a bell, a rather short and portly woman emerged from one of the medical bays. She had brown hair tied up in a neat bun, a dirty smock covering her green Resistance garb, and quite a severe look about her. Zero took his prerogative to step back behind Craft's back.

"Cervi! What's up with you?!" She was naturally loud, had a distinct drawl, and Zero didn't know if she was cross or if that was her resting tone. Cerveau didn't seem phased.

"If you're not busy, I'd love to ask you a favour."

Mulling over it, light brown eyes looking him up and down, Rocinolle inhaled, held it for a moment, then exhaled. "I guess I ain't busy… what do you want?"

"Well, I was looking to run a couple physicals on our guest Ze-"

While he spoke, she looked over his shoulder and squinted. "Say, is that Zero? Well I'll be damned. Come on over darlin', I don't bite."

Certainly, Zero had seen scarier things than a stout, older civilian build. He made his way in front of her and offered a hand. Rocinolle grabbed his wrist and shook it firmly.

"Oh, Zero, it's a right honour to meet you. My name's Rocinolle, I'm the nurse here," she greeted. "I heard you speak the other day, oh, my heart breaks for you! Shame on Neo Arcadia for treating you like that, honey. Well I'll say, 'spite everything, you're still as purdy as the day you left."

Zero wasn't used to being pitied. He just insisted on a smile and gently tugged his arm away. "Thanks," he replied with awkward brevity. Rocinolle didn't mind him.

"Well, s'there anythin' I can do for you, mister Zero?" Rocinolle asked, suddenly looking much more amicable. "Er, what was Cerveau saying again?"

Zero and Craft looked at Cerveau. He tugged his shirt collar and cleared his throat. "Yes… I need to run a couple physicals on our guest, Zero, here. You wouldn't mind helping me set up, would you?"

"Oh! Why didn't you just say so? Come on, I just got it set up for Colbor. He walks real good for a man with one leg, you know."

Rocinolle was away again, short legs making good distance, waving them over to follow. Cerveau shook his head and huffed. "Oy vey. Well, come on you two."

"...Why do I have to be here?" Craft eventually spoke up, though he had no qualms with following the two into the examination room.

"Moral support! You're his friend, aren't you?"

"...Am I, Zero?"

Zero barged into his side playfully. "Don't be stupid. 'Course you are."

"See? Anyway, here, here, come right this way. Won't take long at all." Cerveau held the door open for them, leading them into a spacious examination room, mostly empty save for droves of old medical equipment scattered around. Rocinolle was leaning over a monitor, typing away at a console and reworking a bird's nest of cables. Craft absentmindedly pushed aside the prongs of a vertical yardstick.

"...Oh, darn it. I still need to calibrate this stuff for Zero's frame," Rocinolle lamented over the mess of analytic equipment. "Cervi, quit lookin' pretty over there and come help me. You two can wait outside if you want."

Cerveau suddenly looked quite sheepish. "Perhaps I mismanaged the clock here. You can stick around and watch or, I don't know, go mingle with the locals. Your decision. We'll call you back."

Given the choice between watching machine calibration and quite possibly anything else, Zero backed out of the room without another word, the door closing by itself.

"Good choice," Craft noted.

Back in the thick of the medical wing, Zero took the chance to take in his surroundings. Hidden away in separate rooms was the ICU, where, through foggy windows, Zero could see workers clambering back and forth in a rush to treat their patients. The walls obscured the true extent of their injuries, which was perhaps a good thing for Zero's conscience.

A young reploid leaned up from his bed, catching Zero's gaze by chance. He looked glassy eyed and distant, face contorted into a frown. His body was weathered with fresh burns and shrapnel scars and bruises covered by gauze. Zero didn't know how to respond. Should he be outraged or heartbroken? It weighed down his heavy chest. MeReAD analysis revealed a civilian build, his diagnostics concluding he had suffered blast injuries.

Despite everything, the corners of his lips slowly lifted into a smile, and he lifted a hand, missing a few fingers, and waved.

Maybe, Zero reckoned with himself, it was simple compassion blooming within him. He smiled back, slowly making his way to kneel at his bedside. There was a glimmer in the young reploid's eyes.

"Zero, sir…" he murmured, voice hoarse and thin and high-pitched- barely a teenager. A weak hand reached for Zero's face, fingers resting on his cheek as light as a breeze. "Mashallah, I knew you'd come."

Unsure of what else he could do, Zero gently wrapped his hands around the boy's own, enveloping his cold skin in warmth. "What's your name, kid?" He asked.

"My name's Warsame," he answered. Zero nodded slowly.

"Warsame… that name's from these parts, isn't it?" Zero asked.

"Yeah… My family's lived here for a long time. Before Neo Arcadia, the wars, all of that. I descend from humans. Our ancestor was a human who married a reploid long ago," he said. Zero leaned in, swallowing hard. His pain, his loneliness, it was too much to ignore.

"What happened to you?"

The light in his eyes burned out like an old bulb, his smile faltering. Zero frowned. "...I'm sorry. You don't have to say-"

"It's okay. I'm glad someone like you cares enough to ask," he assured. He took in a deep breath before continuing. "We lived in Badhan, in the Sanaag region. My father said Neo Arcadia was founded not too far away. They promised us that our city wouldn't be harmed, that we'd become a part of the state. That we could stay, you know, just like we did for hundreds of years. But Neo Arcadia just kept getting bigger, and we were in the way. They destroyed it, all of it. My home, Badhan, so they could make space for new settlements, for humans and stuff. For days, we could hear nothing but airstrikes, gunfire, their machines tearing down our homes. It never stopped, not until there was nothing left. Most of the people in Badhan, they were killed during the siege. Even the humans, the ones who didn't move, they weren't spared. The hospitals, schools, our homes. Everything we owned, it was all gone. My family ran away when I was young. We had to live in a secret settlement in the Outside Land."

Warsame leaned back against his pillow and looked aimlessly at the ceiling. "Then Neo Arcadia came for that too. My entire family was gone in one airstrike. Most of the settlement too. It's just me, now." He blinked fast, trying to will away tears. "It was never perfect before. Somalia, I mean, but now it's like we never even existed. So… so thank you, Zero, sir. Thank you for coming for us."

Zero never had a way with words. All he could do was be there and listen to the boy. He had bore witness to unspeakable kinds of death and destruction, things that kept the centuries old, seasoned war veteran Zero awake, at barely a fraction of his age. "I'll be here for you, kid. For all of you. I will always fight for the people I believe in. Even if I can't now, I won't give up on you. Not again."

Zero set his hand back down, letting Warsame rest. "We were taught stories about you. My father, he used to pray for kindness like yours. Inshallah, I'll get better, and when I do, I want to be a doctor. I'll help people, be strong and brave, just like you Zero. Then, maybe one day, we can return home."

"Warsame... You're already so much stronger than I could ever be," he assured. "You should rest, young man. Get better soon, so you may shepherd your people back home."

He ran his hand lightly through Warsame's hair, earning him a smile from the boy. "I will, sir. I promise."

Slowly, he eased himself upright and backed away, drawing the curtains around his bed to offer him some relief from the rabble of the med bay. Craft returned to his side, a hand on his shoulder.

"It's always hard to hear," Craft murmured. Zero sighed away the sorrow in his heart.

"Poor kid… so young and already lost so much," Zero mused. "Even still, he can find the strength to have hope. Makes me wonder how I couldn't do the same."

What good was it to lament helplessness? When did he stop dreaming? What was he aiming for? Just like young Warsame, like Wade and his friends back in the citadel, Ciel and her Resistance, the suffering men, women and children toiling in the outer sectors, even Phantom and his crisis of loyalty, he just had to live. If anything else, just live. Stay alive, kicking and screaming. That was what this fight was about.

I can't see the future with just my ordinary vision. It needs a dream, Zero mused to himself, echoing shades of Iris' philosophy. As long as we live in this reality, there's still work to do… treat the future not as a forgone conclusion, but a goal we must work towards.

"Cerveau was asking for you, by the way," Craft said, nudging Zero along. "You should probably go see what he wants."

I'm trusting my body too much. These things that won't follow my command. It isn't enough to have only eyes on the future. Hmm. Seek the whole from parts. Ciel was right. What am I doing here?

…

I'm making something. I need to.

…

You shouldn't, Zero…It isn't worth it. What do you think will happen? People just fight. War is interesting. Destruction, paving way for something new, over and over.

…

That's not true.

…

Money, greed, ambition, 'progress', civilisations rising from the dust and collapsing, helpless to fight back. It's all our fault, a result of our own negligence. Why are we here? It won't change.

…

I don't know, Zero.

I think I need to change what this means for me. The malice we see in life, it's nothing more than an apparition. Existence itself is beautiful.

…

Was it?

…

Well, it had to be. At least it had to be, if there was any future for them to strive towards.

With some new perspective to inform his life, Zero joined Cerveau and Rocinolle in the examination room to lend his body to analysis, just as he did so many times before.

---

X was sitting at his desk, head resting atop his hand and pen twirling in his hands. He wasn't doing any work.

In front of him were a few inquiries from the Neo Arcadian Branch of Human Affairs that he'd been putting off for a week. Inevitably, they were beginning to pile up. Largely trivial things to make life more palatable for the already coddled population, more holidays, more security, less noise at night, clean up the graffiti in the alleys, less trains from the Outer Sectors, enforce more curfews, and then in the same breath, ease up the current curfews. Anything to make it easier for them to eat, easier for them to sleep. The human representatives were starting to grow impatient at his delay. Nothing that couldn't be solved with loud words and large hand gestures and dumbed down sentiments.

His grip tightened around his pen. It didn't matter to him, it never really did. He was doing little else but writing his signature on the dotted line- handling civic minutiae wasn't part of his job. How could he care about the wants and needs of fat and dumb, soft-skinned humans when he had more pressing matters at hand?

Extremists and dissenting movements have taken hostages before, and they were usually nobody particularly important. They would let them have them until public outcry became too much for morale to bear. Only then would they intervene, raiding Maverick outposts and tearing them to the ground until the devastation broke the enemy and forced them to give up. It was so easy to find them, Neo Arcadian drones circling the skies like vultures.

He threw his pen down and pushed his chair away from under him, meandering with heavy footsteps to his window. He looked out to his kingdom under the night sky with little triumph or pride. A utopia that stretched from the mountains to the glistening sea. What good was it without the person he built it for? This was all for Zero. He had finally made good on his promise, a world modelled after their virtues, their image. He was Zero's dagger, buried deep into the soft flesh of this city and its people.

His jaw was clenched, teeth grit and nostrils flared, blood streaming thick through his body. What good was any of it? Why should they be happy?

The chime of his comms system being called upon drew his attention away from his vicious reverie. He made his way back to his desk, trying to quell his frustration with deep breaths. It was Harpuia calling in from the Outer Sectors. He took the call.

"Make my day, why don't you."

His son stood against a grim backdrop, where the sky was always overwhelmed by smoke and ash, the air was thick with poison. Evading his glare, Harpuia dipped his head. "I apologise, sir. We're nowhere closer to Zero's whereabouts as we were the last time we spoke." X's nose scrunched up.

"That's not what I wanted to hear, Harpuia."

"I'm aware…" he said, wings small against his back.

"Then what can you tell me?" X asked, arms crossed and brow knitted.

Harpuia said nothing for a moment, wetting the inside of his mouth. "...Nothing you don't already know." He took a swig from an E-tank to wash down the pit in his throat, his voice suddenly feeling sparse. "Uh, other than that, Hanumachine's team has found evidence of data tampering. Our surveillance cannot be trusted until further notice."

"And you can't recover the data."

"We tried."

X's lips pulled back, teeth bared. "Then– you– we must–"

He stopped, dropped his gaze to the floor and kneaded the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I suppose that's it then. If not you, no one can find him." He threw his hands up in defeat. "Then that's it! That's really it. I've been too fair to that Resistance scum. I should've wiped them off the face of the Earth when they were still too insignificant to matter."

Neither said anything for a moment, though their silence was rich with tension. Anything Harpuia had to say would only stoke X's wrath. He just let him stew in it, his back turned to Harpuia's view.

It's too early to fire up Ragnarok. We don't have a target to fire at, X thought. But traditional solid-state armament should work just fine.

"Then I won't waste your time. Pull your forces from that sector. Tell Phantom too," he said, turning around to face Harpuia again. "Deploy the pantheons in your stead. Station Golem-637 at the incoming bridge. There must be nowhere for them to hide. I'll mobilise the demolition squadron shortly. If there is nothing to be found, we are to follow the Siegfried Protocol. Raze that district to the ground."

"Yes, sir."

"As for you, you and Phantom will poll the interiors of the Outer Sectors. I will have Fefnir and Leviathan mobilise their forces in the Outside Lands, as far as the Rift will let them. Do you understand the task given to you?"

"Yes, sir," Harpuia repeated.

"Good. Good. If we can't find Zero, we can at least stamp out any pro-maverick sentiment around here…" X grumbled, pacing in front of the video feed. Harpuia watched dutifully, waiting for his dismissal. "How stupid could I have been, yielding to Zero's demands, his outdated ideals... He doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't know anything about this world."

When he spoke like that, it made Harpuia's armour shudder. "...Indeed, sir."

"I need to stop giving people the benefit of the doubt. They don't know what it is they want," X continued. "I'm tired of it. Tired of people running, fearing what must be done to secure a peaceful future. There's a sickness in our race, a universal sickness. Is it so bad to excise the bubos? Don't we all want peace? Don't they want what everyone wants?"

It was better for Harpuia to remain tight-lipped. X stopped in front of the telecomm receiver.

"We will find Zero, and when we do, I will resolve his troublesome egress," X promised. "What do you say, Harpuia?"

"...It will be done."

"That's what I wanted to hear," he murmured. "Why does he insist on running away? I'll figure him out. No one knows him like I do." He turned to Harpuia. "What do you think?"

Harpuia swallowed hard. "...Maybe his association with Craft has led him astray. He seemed quite affected by Axl. I don't think he knows any better."

Surely, X already knew that. He was just seeking further confirmation. "Of course. If I could go back in time, I would've killed Craft myself," X snarled. "To think he has dirtied Zero's mind… stripped him from me. If only he knew what that man had done. Fenrisúlfr, our world ender. He wouldn't be so sympathetic now, would he?"

Jealousy was a horrible thing, and it coursed through him like venom. He had no rational basis to assume the nature of their relationship, but Zero was forcing him to pay no heed to his rational mind. Unwanted images of him and Zero together, Zero holding a maverick close like he used to with him, it haunted him.

"I won't keep you, Harpuia," X finally concluded. "Go on, do Neo Arcadia proud."

Harpuia saluted him. "Yes, Master X, sir!"

His video feed was cut off. It was just X again. Despite his efforts, Zero wasn't there, not in his bed, not looking out the window at their world. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He collapsed on the side of his couch, forlorn and far away.

Why are you running away? Look at what you're making me do, Zero…

He looked at his hands, opening and closing his fists. Look what you've done to me. I don't want to do this either.

It was just X. He, alone, had to make it better. Peace, a utopia, that was his promise to Zero. This was what he wanted.

…

Why bother? It's an endless cycle, X. Life, hope, ennui, despair, catastrophe. What are you doing?

…

"I'm forging ahead. For Neo Arcadia. For peace. Our future. For Zero."

Maybe you shouldn't.

"I must. I have to do this."

He could feel Zero's hands around his, his body on top of his own, vulnerable flesh pressed against his.

"I'll make things better. We can be better than the past. Our history. We can progress."

…

No matter what we do, things will always turn out wrong.

Zero. Omega. X didn't know where one stopped and the other began, if it was real or his mind playing tricks on him, or if it mattered at all. The red siren smiled atop of him, all iterations of him. His voice was barely a whisper.

Don't be selfish, X.

On the inside, we can never be better.

---

"It might hurt a little."

There it is… there's the strength from yesteryear.

One jab to the thigh was enough for Zero to be keeping pace at a comfortable 60 kilometres per hour, internals running steady and cool. His breathing was stable, his mechanical heart was beating only somewhat faster than his baseline, and his metabolism was behaving. He had shown little sign of nascent fatigue even twenty minutes in. He could reach great heights in one jump, his reflexes had been restored to something at least resembling what they once were, and his healing factors seemed to kick back into gear, his systems resolving a small prick in his finger with swiftness rather than delay.

Before Cerveau had administered his antidote, the treadmill had him running out of breath by six or so minutes. Was it a perfect recovery? Not entirely, despite what Zero had hoped for. Was it better than nothing? Absolutely. It was like he had finally woken up feeling fully rested and renewed. His mind and body weren't completely in sync, but they were closer than ever.

And damn, it felt good.

For another ten minutes, at least.

"It might be wearing off now."

Cerveau was keeping an eye on the data output, chewing on the back of his pen.

After thirty minutes, he was starting to crash back down to Earth, the restraining bolt's effect overtaking the temporary rebalance in his systems and taking its toll on him. Slowly, his body was weighed down by it, legs like lead, chest feeling tight and hungry for air, his internal temperature gradually climbing.

It was nice while it lasted.

"Alright, that'll be all," Cerveau advised. Zero slowed to a stop, footsteps growing heavier until the treadmill was still. He dismounted, then promptly keeled over, hand on his knees, respiratory systems starving for oxygen and cool air. Cerveau handed him a cold E-tank.

"Ah, that worked a charm," Cerveau said, abundantly pleased with himself.

"Yeuahguehasuhhh…."

He had meant to say words. It felt like his throat was burning, he could taste blood in the back of his mouth.

"Gesundheit." Craft was still watching, leaning against the wall. Cerveau guided Zero to a chair and had him sit, blonde hair a frizzy mess and limbs draped limp over the arm rests. Cerveau pointed a fan towards him.

"Well, happy to say that dose gave you a good 34 minutes of consistent enhanced performance," Cerveau assessed the stream of data at the analysis console while he unhooked a few cables from his wrist panel. Zero rolled his head back and slumped in his seat, more pale than he already was. The collar took its time in punishing Zero for daring to overcome it. "As long as you don't push yourself too hard, you should be alright."

Zero grabbed a bottle of water at the foot of his chair and doused himself with it.

"I don't suppose we could get whatever's in those things now, could we?" Craft pointed his chin at the rest of the autoinjectors Cerveau had filled. Cerveau laughed.

"Wouldn't that be nice! A whole army of supersoldiers," Cerveau said, handing Zero a rag. "But no, this is designed specifically for Zero's body condition. If I gave it to you, It'd probably cause total system arrest."

Craft frowned. "Shame."

"Alright… I think I'm good…" Zero managed between heavy puffs. He pushed himself out of his chair and wiped the sweat from his brow, stumbling before finding himself flat on his feet. "Thanks, Cerveau. You're a lifesaver."

"It's all a part of the job, Mister Zero," he assured, "if you start experiencing any side effects, let me know ASAP. Here, here, take the rest of them."

Cerveau collected the three leftover injectors and dropped them unceremoniously in Zero's hands.

"Sorry I didn't make more. It was kind of a spur of the moment kind of deal," Cervau said. "Each contains one dose. You know how to use it right? You just press it into the side of your thigh and click the button. Just use them wisely."

With nowhere else to keep them, Zero stored them in his hip holster. "I'll keep that in mind. Are we done here?"

Cerveau smiled. "Oh yes, you're free to go. You know, Ciel might be looking for you. You should go look for her. If I had to guess, she's probably in the training and equipment rooms."

Zero was so carried away with the whole ordeal, he'd forgotten about Ciel's favour for him. "You're probably right. I'll see you around, then." He turned, waving Cerveau goodbye. "Craft?"

"Yep. I'm coming…"

Like a loyal but belligerent puppy, Craft followed Zero out the room and medbay, offering Cerveau an appreciative nod as he did.

"I don't know why I stuck around for that," Craft mumbled, mostly to himself. Zero rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"You could've left anytime."

"I know."

"But you didn't."

"Yeah, I know."

"You're weird."

Craft wasn't going to bother refuting that. The training and equipment rooms weren't too far from the medical wing. The wing was divided into sections, but the main entrance led to a moderately sized gym that was mostly occupied by a floor mat and some weight equipment set to the side. There were a few young reploids sparring on the mat, but it looked like it was more for fun than actually honing their combat skills. Bittersweet memories of wrestling with X as young Hunters flashed in his mind.

"Don't think Ciel's around. I'll ping her transponder," Craft said after a quick scan of the room. Zero took the opportunity to wander, and Craft, perhaps instinctively at this point, followed him as he fiddled with his comms.

He passed the reploids playing on the mat, stopping to give them a discerning glare. When the two realised, they swiftly untangled themselves and tried to look polite and proper.

"Z-Zero, sir!" one of them stuttered. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. Zero had been gone so long and spoken of with such regard, to these kids, he might as well have been one. Zero smirked, putting their nerves at ease.

"Are you trying to break your neck? You should keep your head up when you grapple, you know," he advised. "Shoulders up, back straight, feet apart, knees bent."

They nodded eagerly. "Y-yes, sir, thank you sir."

Their sheepish stares made Zero chuckle. "Don't play too rough."

They nodded again, the two replying with a hummed 'mhmm' and a quiet 'uh-huh'. Zero took that as a hint to move on.

The next room was a firing range hidden behind thick walls of concrete, the glass reinforced with a metal lattice. There wasn't anyone using it at the moment, though there were a few Resistance fighters and the rangemaster loitering around. Through a window, Zero peered into the connecting office, where an older and chubby reploid, with flashes of white hair at his temple and a well groomed moustache and beard worked away dutifully. The room had been repurposed as a workshop, tools and spare parts scattered around, the man's apron splattered with oil stains. When he noticed the two, he waved. Craft waved back while Zero kept his hands at his side.

"He's the weapons engineer. His name's Doigt," Craft said. "Might be too busy to make small talk."

There were a few human shaped targets beyond the partitions of the firing booths, blaster marks having worn away at the markings. Zero eyed them down, aiming at them in his mind. It was quiet, quiet enough to allow for concentration.

"Zero! Sorry, I lost track of time." Ciel's voice cut through the air, and she came storming through, a bag thrown over her shoulder. "How was Cerveau? I heard he gave you a serum for that collar, how'd that go?"

"It went well, I guess," Zero supposed. "Is that all for me?"

"Oh yes, usually I have these prepared, but there wasn't gonna be a caravan leaving Neo Arcadia for a couple weeks," she said, setting the bag down and rummaging through it. "Here, you're gonna need this."

She handed him a small firearm, muzzle facing down. Zero took it and gave it a look over.

"It's nothing special, just a standard issue buster. Maybe, in another life, we could find a way to modify it to your liking," Ciel said. Zero stepped towards the firing range, turned off the safety, and lifted the muzzle towards his targets, his targeting systems locking onto each of the target's weak points with a red reticle in his HUD.

Three plasma shots were fired off in quick succession, landing precision blows in the heads of the human-sized silhouettes. Zero let out an amused huff, lips twitching into a smirk as bystanders turned their heads, dazzled by the legend's marksmanship. Still got it…

Then again, this was a controlled environment, with motionless, harmless targets. He'd let his ego take what it could get, though.

"Sehr beeindruckende Arbeit," Craft said. Zero flicked his hair out of his face and cocked his hip, slotting the gun neatly in his free holster.

"Danke."

"Wow. It takes our guys months to learn to do that kind of shooting. You really are the Zero, huh?" Ciel said. "I wish I could get you better weapons, but we're trying to reserve them for our forces. Hope you understand."

"I'll make it work," Zero assured. Ciel smiled, grabbed the bag and turned, waving them over.

"Anyway, this is no place to be chatting about this sort of thing. Come, let's find someplace private, then we can talk," she said, dragging them away from the training facility, past the wrassling kids and dawdling soldiers who were still whispering amongst themselves. Zero couldn't help but catch their murmurs.

Woah, that really is Zero… I never thought I'd see him in real life. I thought he'd be scarier, but he's not like X at all.

He's so cool… Maybe we should ask him to teach us how to fight.

Zero kept his distance, but felt plenty flattered. They really did respect him, despite everything. He just hoped he could live up to their preconceptions.

It turned out the 'someplace' Ciel was talking about happened to be her back at her living quarters. She had cleaned up since Zero had last been there. Craft had to duck his head under the small door frame. "Make yourself comfortable, you two," Ciel said, closing the door behind them and gesturing them inside.

There, laying in her bed and curled up under covers, was Alouette and her little white cat plush, sleeping soundly despite their entrance stirring up some slight commotion.

"Oh. Little Alouette…" Zero murmured, tiptoeing closer to her bedside. Ciel set the bag down gently by her desk and sat down, rifling through her offerings.

"Yeah, she spent all afternoon running around with Menart. She totally wore herself out," Ciel explained. Craft pushed aside a chair that was too small for him in front of her computer, the console currently viewing a folder full of data logs for various points of interest.

"Where's Neige?" Craft decided to ask. Ciel shrugged.

"I think she's headed to the surface right now. There's been a pretty significant spike in military presence in the Outer Sectors. I heard that Harpuia's forces were scouring the area where I found you two. She's gone to investigate," Ciel answered. She handed Zero a small, rectangular drive that would slot neatly in his wrist console. "That'll give you limited access to our Hammerspace system. You can store your things in there, Neo Arcadia doesn't really have its fingers in a lot of higher dimensional systems, not since the RIAOT disbanded."

"X must've tracked us down," Zero said, fear creeping into his tone. "If he finds us? Then what?"

"He won't," Ciel assured. "We've made sure of it. Our transerver room is only visible to those who know how to look."

"Hm. I hope you're right." Zero implanted the drive into himself, where it automatically connected him to a novel 4D storage system. Craft pressed his lips together and breathed out hard.

"I hope she's safe up there," Craft mumbled, looking away wistfully. At Zero's side, Alouette twisted in the sheets, turning away from the bright lights overhead. Zero furrowed his brow at the slumbering girl.

"May I ask… how did Alouette end up here?"

Ciel sat up at the question, her gaze immediately fogging over with sorrow. "Oh. Her parents refused to join the armed forces when she was young. They were murdered when they tried to resist arrest. The police left her behind in their apartment." Ciel tried to occupy herself with the things she was giving Zero, assembling some bulky device on the fly. "By some miracle, I found her after it had all happened. She'd been left to die, so we had to take her in. At this point, we've become her family. She follows me around everywhere, I'm like a big sister to her…"

Zero took the white plush toy from her side. There was a little hole in its ear where stuffing was spilling out.

"That's the only thing she wanted to take from her home. Her mother made it for her," Ciel said, the parts of the device coming together with a snap. "She never goes anywhere without it-"

Zero began rummaging through her drawers without another word. Ciel slumped her shoulders, mouth straightened into a line. "You know it's rude to look through someone's things without permission."

"Uh-huh," he replied, finally managing to procure a sewing needle and thread after making a mess of her storage compartments. He sat down in an old plastic chair, folding his leg over his knee, licking the tip of the thread and feeding it through the needle's eye.

"...You're fixing it?" Ciel cocked her head.

"Yes. I'm making myself useful," Zero replied, tying a knot in the thread and going about his task. Ciel made a high-pitched huffy laugh, giving Zero pause. "What?"

"It's just…I just didn't assume someone like you could do something like that," Ciel admitted. Zero gave her a look.

"That's pretty closed-minded," Zero said. Craft stifled a laugh.

"I'm sorry, you're right. Thank you for doing this for Alouette, she'll be thrilled you fixed her kitty," Ciel said. She handed Zero the finished device, the warbot taking it in his free hand giving it a once over.

"Am I supposed to know what this is?" Zero asked blankly. Ciel giggled, shaking head held low.

"Not really. It's a bootleg warpdrive," she answered. "See, I don't know if you already know, but Neo Arcadia has a monopoly on classical warp tech, they use spatial folding inhibitors to prevent unauthorised teleportation within Neo Arcadia and past the city walls. That's why we have to use a lot of unorthodox methods to get around. Their system isn't completely impenetrable, though, there's certain dead zones littered around the place. I've saved the coordinates of all the dead spots we've identified so far in that machine, so if things go south, you can get out of there."

"Oh. That's handy," he said, looking through the cached coordinates Ciel had saved for him. "...Where exactly am I supposed to be warping to?"

"I've saved the locations of a few Resistance safehouses in there. Option three, I've listed it as 'Rebellion', that'll take you to our collaborators. They currently have the means to get you past Neo Arcadia's walls."

"...A dimensional tugboat?" Zero guessed. Ciel's brow rose.

"Why yes! How'd you guess?"

"Cerveau doesn't keep many secrets," Zero replied, stashing the warpdrive away in his newly procured Hammerspace and continued repairing Alouette's stuffed toy.

"Touché," Ciel supposed. "We have a few spare old ride chasers for you to take on the journey, it's a couple days to get to Tabula Rasa from the southside. Er-" she ripped a piece of paper from her notebook and scribbled something down. "Ask Hirondelle, he'll get you hooked up with one. He should have the directions to Tabula Rasa for you too–"

"Hey. We've got a ride chaser already," Craft cut in, walking over to join their conversation. Ciel looked up at him with big eyes and promptly crumpled the piece of paper in her hands.

"...You're not staying?" Zero asked. Craft cracked a barely noticeable smile.

"Count me in," Craft said. "I'm coming with you."

The cage of servitude had been opened, and Craft could walk out whenever he wanted. His restraining bolt was not nearly as prohibitive as Zero's. Cerveau found it wasn't directly bound to his systems like Zero's was. If he wanted to, he could've had the connection between his body and the collar severed. Yet, he remained by Zero's side. Why is he still here? Does he actually want to come with me, or is he still under the impression he must continue to serve the indentureship Neo Arcadia sentenced him to?

The circumstances of their relationship was regrettable, a servant and master. Perhaps, if they had met under different conditions, they would've been more eager to consider each other as kindred spirits; two men born for war, sore over a failed love.

I'm glad he's coming with me. I am fond of him, even if I don't know if my feelings for him are real, or if it's just because he was the first person in Neo Arcadia to show me kindness. I don't even know if that was genuine or just a condition of his sentence. Zero shook his head, trying to focus on laddering the stitch between the hole in the stuffed toy. He's a powerful ally. I'd be stupid to tell him to go away.

As he agonised over his thoughts, Zero could only wonder what Craft was thinking.

Ciel blinked, then clapped her hands together with resolution to fill the permeating silence. "Well, that makes things easier! I guess if that's already taken care of, you should chat with Autruche for supplies to hold you over during the journey. He handles the warehouse in the first basement level," she said, tearing herself a new piece of paper to make them a list of things to ask for. "Rocinolle might let you take a few first aid kits from the med-bay if she's having a good day. Just say I gave you my permission."

Zero took the list from her and glanced over her suggestions. "Right." He folded the piece of paper and put it away. He pulled the thread tight, bringing the edges of the tear together in an invisible stitch and tied it off. Good as new.

Isn't it so easy? Fixing these little things… and yet, everytime I think I've fixed something, something else goes wrong. Zero nestled in the newly repaired cat toy back into Alouette's grasp.

"Oh, before you do leave, I should probably give you the halo-ID of our Rebellion collaborators so you can let them know when you're coming," Ciel recalled. [Hi Zero, Delta-Whiskey-November-Zero-Zero-Zero, this is Ciel, Golf-Seven-Echo. Can you hear me?]

Zero stared at her with wide, hollow eyes. "...A human speaking Standard?"

Ciel smiled, acting cute. "Heh. We humans can be capable if we want to be. Here, I'll send you their halo-IDs in a moment."

And so, Zero sat patiently, waiting for an ID to assign in his cloud. When Ciel offered it, Zero straightened, eyes growing large and lips parting, ready to spout incredulous exclamations that lay trapped in his throat. He already had these IDs assigned in his systems. He had for centuries. If anything, it was a shock that they were still alive, let alone working for the righteous freedom fighters of the world.

Ciel shrunk back in her chair, grimacing timidly. "Oh, right. I probably should've told you about that beforehand…"

"Are you kidding me? You seriously expect me to trust the likes of Vile?!"