Time passed slowly in the windowless facility. Without the hour displayed in their helm's overlay, Zer0 wouldn't have been able to tell day from night. The distinction was meaningless, anyway.

Sometimes they'd see Rhys or Vaughn, sometimes both. Occasionally they'd hear the two talking amiably down the hall while Rhys sorted through paperwork or picked through archives.

Zer0 kept to themself. Not just because of Vaughn—Vaughn wasn't always around. He'd told Rhys he wouldn't leave until Rhys proved he was mentally sound, but he couldn't stand by his words. Bandits, in general, weren't exactly competent, but the Children of Helios's dangerous ineptitude made The Slabs look like Dahl soldiers, and Vaughn's second in command didn't seem invested in curbing all of their dangerously idiotic tendencies—which was completely understandable. From what ECHOs they overheard, it sounded like how Zer0 imagined babysitting to be. Except, with full-grown adults attempting to ingest eridium instead of children sticking beads up their noses.
It forced Vaughn to return to camp now and then, just to keep things from descending into chaos. If Zer0 really wanted to talk to Rhys, it would have been easy.

They didn't want to talk to Rhys, though. Not in this condition. They couldn't trust themself to stay vigilant.

They hadn't noticed it at first, they'd been more concerned with whether or not they were scaring him, but if Rhys had whipped a gun out while fixing their arm, he could have easily killed them, even before they'd fallen asleep. Not that he would, but that sense of vulnerability bothered them.

It had to be the fault of achlys. One of those unlisted side effects. Maybe it wouldn't make a person go insane, but that didn't mean it didn't affect the brain, messing with instincts and dulling senses.

It was easier to be alone.

The last time Rhys had seen them had been shortly after Maya's visit. They'd been wandering the facility, their only real pastime. Rhys stood across the hall, a small box under one arm and a bag in his hand. He looked around before beckoning them over, lifting the bag, and mouthing something that they failed to understand.

Zer0 stared at him for what felt like a full minute before they thought to activate Decepti0n, leaving their hologram behind. It too faded after a moment, dissolving into the air.

Later that day, visiting their suite for a meal, they found the box he'd been carrying on the kitchen counter, along with an ECHOdevice, a small stack of ECHOsims, and a note:

"Hey, I think you accidentally left your hologram out earlier? Thought you'd want to know.
There's Anshin health stuff in the box, Maya said don't use over 3 at a time.
The ECHO can connect to the net, pw is n1AL $29.
-Rhys"

They had needed a distraction from their constant rumination, and the ECHOsims worked for a few hours, but they couldn't focus on something so meaningless. Their mind kept wandering back to Reduvius. The explanation they'd offered Maya was impossible. No one randomly stumbled on "documents", the only documents there'd ever been described a completely different person, someone who'd long since vanished on Tantalus. Their attackers knew what Zer0 was, and the only people who knew that knew them before they were Zer0.

Those thoughts led nowhere. Even if they combed over every one of their memories, over and over, they might never find their answer. But the thoughts persisted.

They went back to wandering, this time staying invisible when they could, but their absence and lack of gratitude did nothing to dissuade Rhys. Two days later, they found a stack of books in the same spot, and another note:
"I thought you'd want something to read. It's hard to find real books on Pandora, so most of this is old Atlas propaganda, sorry if it sucks. I'll keep an eye out for better stuff.
-Rhys"

They briefly flipped through the books, but left them strewn across the counter. It was no different than the ECHOsims.

The day after that was a grocery bag.
"We got groceries. No idea what you eat but this should be better than canned skag? There's more in your fridge. Tell me if you need anything else. Also, are you ok? I haven't seen you recently and I'm starting to worry.
-Rhys"

They crumpled up the note in frustration.
They were fine. Miserable, bored out of their mind, and sick, but they thought they'd made it more than obvious that they weren't off dying somewhere. They'd left plenty of signs of their presence, moving things, discarding dirty clothes, filling up the trash can. If Rhys was so concerned, he would have paid attention to that, wouldn't he?

They didn't need him to worry about them. They didn't need anything from him other than the food and shelter he'd already provided.

At least, they really wanted to believe that, but they were growing bored. Worse, they were becoming desperate.

Exploring the facility was getting old fast. Only the main building, 01A, was open to them. 02B and 03C were connected to 01A by underground tunnels, both sealed off with heavy metal doors.

01A was massive in of itself, but there wasn't much of interest left to find there. It had mostly housed work focused on Gortys, a project already seen to completion. Most of that work was promotional material for investors.

Normally, Zer0 could at least appreciate the evidence of Athena's rampage, visible in nearly every room, but now it only reminded them that they should be out there slaughtering people. How they couldn't.

They got tired so fast now. Before, they'd always fought through injuries through sheer willpower. They were determined to do that now, refusing rest until the floor started spinning and they could barely stay upright. Then they'd find somewhere to hole up and sleep until they recovered enough to resume.

Tonight that place was a chilly broom closet, pervaded by the stench of cleaning chemicals. They'd slept in a cramped space between a metal shelf and the wall, where they weren't visible from the door. When they rose again their legs were stiff, and nearly a dozen of the places they'd taken wounds were beginning to ache. The one in their chest hurt especially bad. Why had that woman feel it necessary to stab them there if she intended to let them live? Sadism?
As they stepped out of the closet, they entertained thoughts of revenge. But Maya would deal with their attackers long before they recovered, they wouldn't get the chance.

The thought irritated them enough that they had to resist the urge to stab the oblivious Hyperion cleaning bot as it slid past. Like the others they'd seen, it was dented and scorched, likely fished out of Helios's wreckage. Its nametag designated it "Glen".

They knew Glen by now. He was an easy target, he was one of the few bots that hadn't lost trust in them.
Each floor in the facility was home to a single cleaning bot, plus there was the broken one in Rhys's suite. The bots served little purpose, with only Rhys to clean up after, and the ones on the first and third floors were striking even before Zer0 began tormenting them.
As far as Zer0 was concerned, they weren't good for much other than entertainment.

They turned back to the closet, taking a sheet of paper from the trash can and crumpling it into a ball. This, they dropped it a few feet from Glen. "Hey."

The bot wheeled around, announcing something too distorted to make out. Probably "Mess detected!" judging by what the less damaged bots chirped out. When he reached his target, Zer0 kicked it away. Glen followed cluelessly, only for the paper ball to be kicked out of his reach a second time.

They raised their foot to kick the paper again, but paused, suddenly losing interest. There was no skill in this. No challenge. Nothing new would come of it. A couple more kicks, and Glen would start getting mad. The last two times they'd done this, he attempted a useless attack on their feet. A cleaning bot couldn't do much more than that.

They stepped back and watched the bot vaporize the paper, sucking up the particles. "Such a simple thing. / A life of repetition. / Does it not grow dull?"

Glen only buzzed cheerfully and rolled away.

For a second time, they considered stabbing him.

An hour later they were in front of Rhys's bedroom door, defeated. They didn't want to resort to this, but they'd keep it brief.

He was supposed to be sleeping by now, but he probably wasn't. Usually, he was awake, at his desk. Or sleeping at his desk, in which case they could justify waking him.

They knocked, got no response, and opened the door a crack.

Rhys was asleep, not quite peacefully, his Atlas crimson covers piled halfway off the bed. He was bare-chested, wearing only boxers, a state of vulnerability that Zer0 couldn't understand, coming from someone whose defenses were already so limited. It made him look all the more pitiful as he murmured inaudibly and frantically clawed at his cybernetic arm.

A nightmare?
They'd seen Krieg like this. He was louder and more violent, but it looked the same. Once, camping out in Three Horns, they'd made the mistake of prodding him with their foot to shut him up. If they'd been any slower in dodging his buzzaxe, they'd have lost that foot and half their leg with it.

Rhys was less dangerous, but regardless, this wasn't any of their business. They turned away, deciding that the potential fallout wasn't worth it. After surviving a week of boredom, what would another day be?

Rhys let out a soft whimper and Zer0 hesitated despite themself.

To worry about him was stupid, a nightmare was harmless. He didn't need them to come to his rescue. And if it resulted in tears or panic? What were they supposed to do then? They couldn't think of a time someone seemed comforted by their presence.

Still, this presented a decent excuse to wake him, and he wouldn't want to go back to sleep anytime soon. Which meant he'd make himself useful to them.

They approached his bed.
"Rhys," they hissed. When he didn't respond except with another pitiful sound, they lightly nudged his shoulder.

He swatted at their hand. "Screw off," he grumbled through clenched teeth.

They nudged him again. "Rhys," they said, louder. "Wake up."

This time he woke with a gasp, swinging at them as they took a swift step backward, out of his reach. "What the hell?!" He sat up, wide-eyed and breathless. "Zer0?"

It was the best reaction they could have realistically hoped for.
"Are you okay, Rhys?"

He blinked, looking around the room. "I—yeah, why wouldn't I be? Other than you nearly scaring me to death."

"Good," they said, pretending to believe him. If he'd rather not talk about it, it was better for them both. He'd get over the residual fear, or whatever this was, soon enough, without their aid. "I require help, / And your friend is still sleeping. / Try to be quiet."

"What?" His eyes flickered over them. "Is it the achlys, or…?"

"I need armor. Guns. / There are many locked doors here. / You can open them."

"What? I-I mean, I can, but uh, why? Right now? It-it's like…" His yellow eye flashed. "Three AM?"

"Because, Vaughn's asleep," they repeated. "I'm unarmed and unarmored. / ...And also, I'm bored."

Rhys squinted at them, and for a moment, they thought he might be angry. Then he switched on the bedside lamp and stepped out of bed. "Hold on, I need uh, clothes."

As he dug a pair of sweatpants from his drawers, Zer0 found themself absently staring. Rhys had a bad case of bedhead, which looked strange on him, he seemed pretty meticulous about his hair. He also had way more tattoo than they would have expected, and they couldn't help but wonder about that. It just looked out of place, knowing what little they did of Rhys. At the same time, maybe it suited him.
He pulled a t-shirt over his head, and turned back around.
"Alright, let's go," he said.

They diverted their gaze. Rhys couldn't have possibly noticed, but they felt suddenly weird about staring. It wasn't often they were concerned with someone's appearance. Maybe that was boredom getting to them. They hadn't seen anything new in awhile.
Or maybe it the achlys, still messing with their brain.

"So, the armory is in—"

They shushed him with a finger to their helm. "You've made enough noise."

They took the stairs, the elevator was louder than they'd prefer. If Vaughn woke, Zer0 could vanish, but Rhys didn't have the same luxury, and the sooner Vaughn thought Rhys was functioning normally, the sooner he'd be gone.

"You may speak now, Rhys," they said after they'd made it down one flight.

"Right, so uh, the armory. It's next door in 3C."

"You've mentioned."

"Oh, yeah. Well, I have the other buildings mostly offline. Everything but the vitals. This place was eating a lot of electricity, and I don't know where it's coming from, but it seemed pretty wasteful. Turns out, the way this place's security is set up means buildings seal themself off when they lose access to the network. There's a control center in the basement, I can power things back up from there."

"I see."

"Sure you don't want to take the elevator?"

"It will not kill me." They didn't relish the prospect either—they could easily ignore pain, but they were starting to feel like Pandoran gravity had increased by ten percent. Still, whatever happened tonight, they could hide the effects of. They'd always been good at fighting through affliction.

"Yeah, six flights, total cakewalk."
Rhys was out of breath by the time they'd made it to the first floor. Zer0 imagined they would be too, if they needed to breathe. That would be more difficult to hide than their too-fast heartbeat and the faint dizziness.

Neither had spoken in a few minutes, and the silence was becoming unbearable. Zer0 had hoped Rhys might be more interested in speaking to them after their absence, but he seemed distracted.

"Your nose is looking better," they observed.

"Yeah, it's, uh, it's healing."

"Good."
Admittedly, that had been a poor attempt at sparking conversation, but conversation was never one of their strengths.

"So, uh…" Rhys paused for a long moment. "How—how have you been? I haven't seen you since Maya was here, and back there you seemed kind of, um…"

"I seemed kind of what?"

"Off? I mean, I get it, all things considered. This is a pretty messed up situation…"

Zer0 wished they could deny it—they were meant to hold better command over their displays of emotion, but they'd never been good at hiding things like frustration and annoyance.
Their first instinct was to point out that Rhys wasn't one to talk, considering what they'd witnessed from him over the past week, especially what they saw mere minutes ago. But being needlessly malicious wouldn't end well, especially not when they still needed that door open.
After cycling through a few excuses, they decided on giving Rhys a simplified version of the truth.
"I have many doubts. / Little about this makes sense. / I find it... Vexing."

"I'm probably not the best person to weigh in here, but maybe you're overthinking it? These guys might not know anything about you other than what you've done on Pandora. That's more than enough reason for them to target you, isn't it?"

They shook their head, trying to decide how much to tell him. They trusted him, but there were things they didn't share, even with those they trusted. And Rhys, as benevolent as he'd been so far, was still corporate. What if he saw profit in betraying them? Would his fondness for them outweigh that?
He'd profited from bringing down Helios, killing thousands of his coworkers. The Raiders would've done the same, eventually, and Rhys clearly regretted it, but that didn't mean he'd be any less ruthless when the next opportunity presented itself.

Still, they needed to talk to someone, as aggravatinging as it was to admit to themself. Being trapped with their thoughts was becoming unbearable. They just needed to avoid telling him too much.

They settled on "You're a cyborg too."

"Yeah?"

"Your implants are not your own. / Not like your flesh is."

"What? I… I mean they're…" He looked uncomfortable. "Okay, sorry, what is this about?"

"Implants in my brain. / I think they were compromised, / A long time ago."

Rhys gave them a strange look, and they began to regret this.

"It's not important. / Forget I said anything. / Just an errant thought." There'd been no reason to say any of that. Confiding in someone was pointless. They couldn't keep allowing themself to let their guard down so easily.

"I... I mean, it sounds like a legitimate thing to worry about—erm, not to go one way or another on this? I obviously don't know what's in your head, or, anything about you in general, to be honest. I-I just, uh, I'm trying to express cyborg to cyborg sympathy?"

They nodded stiffly, suddenly wondering why they'd accompanied him. He could've opened the door alone.

"...You know, Vaughn's not here all the time?" Rhys said after another long silence. "I think at this point he knows whatever he's worried about isn't really an emergency, and he has his own stuff to deal with. He wasn't even here for most of yesterday—some of the CoH guys brought a bullymong into camp, so he had to handle that, and that took all day, so…"

"But he isn't gone."

"Not totally, but if, um, if you ever want to hang out, it might be safe? This must suck, right? Just, being so isolated…"

"I am not like you. / I need no companionship. / Solitude, preferred."

A frown crossed his face, just for a second before a weak, unconvincing smile replaced it. "That—that's fair."

Neither spoke again until they got to the power control room. Zer0 leaned in the doorway and watched while Rhys messed with a panel, his ECHOeye glowing.

"I can open the door up from here. The armory's in the basement too, so if you go straight through the tunnel, you'll just have to follow the signs to reach it. You're free to use whatever you want there." He entered a password on the console then pressed a few buttons and there was a loud series of beeps.

This should have been where they parted ways. They'd regret this later, but despite their words, talking to Rhys again actually was a novelty compared to their last few days of solitude and repetition.
"Show me the way," they said.

"It's really easy, you just—"

"My death's been announced. / Has anything come of that?" It was the first thing that sprung to their mind. They turned and started walking towards the other building. "How do they respond?"

Rhys hesitated a moment before following. "It's a super big deal, but that's kind of a given. Uh, yesterday Vaughn was telling me the version he heard, where you killed the administrator of Lynchwood?"

It was easy to keep Rhys talking until they reached the armory, a few minutes later. Rhys may have been isolated, but he had the ECHOnet. He'd seen all kinds of stories: Zer0 turned on the Raiders and had to be put down, Krieg brutally dismembered them, someone slipped poison into their food, they'd been hanged for murder in Lynchwood. Rumors spread fast on Pandora, and half the sources were insane and entirely unreliable. For once, that was a boon to them. They'd rather their supposed death be ignored completely, but that was impossible for one as infamous as them. But, the rumors were better than what was believed in Sanctuary: that they'd died alone in the Dead Sands, after retreating from battle.

It wasn't long before they arrived at an automatic door labeled "ARMORY" in red paint. It slid open as the pair approached. "And here we are."

The armory was larger than they'd expected, maybe once it contained enough supplies to outfit a hundred Lancemen. Not a great force, but alongside turrets and combat drones, the facility would be completely defended against any force lesser than a determined Vault hunter.

About half of the armor was missing, perhaps worn by the men Athena had killed here.

"So, if you're good here, I'm—"

"You mentioned armor / That would fit me, didn't you? / Where would I find it?" This was pathetic. They told themself they wouldn't bother him again, after tonight. The next time they needed something unlocked, they'd leave him a note and avoid any interaction in the first place. But for now, they wouldn't give him the chance to attempt another departure.

"So, um, most of this is obviously for those huge Lance soldiers," Rhys said, leading them past the rows of armor. "But on the end, up here, there's a few sets for the assassins—like Athena? I think their armor was kinda like yours, except, red, and there's, uh…" He stopped, gesturing towards the armor mounted on the wall.

"Oh." They projected a "=_=". The Lance assassins had all been women, and Atlas had apparently felt it vital to make that expressly clear to their victims, at the expense of comfort and functionality. The shoes even had heels.
"Some of it will work," they decided. The bodysuit was similar to their own, and they might make use of a few other pieces. Their own chest piece wasn't in any shape they couldn't fix with a generous amount of duct tape. They'd look like a bandit in stolen, mismatched armor, but it was better than nothing.

"You can help yourself to the guns, too," Rhys offered. "And ammo, shields, whatever, really. I'm not sure what else to do with them, they're not up to par for the new Atlas. Not that they're crappy, just, uh, dated?"

They gave him a nod and continued on ahead, trying to come up with the next excuse to keep him around. It was stupid—they weren't getting much entertainment out of him anyway, and if he left, they could allow themself to rest.

A few shelves of ammunition boxes sat up ahead too, beside rows of inactive Scorpio turret units.
"Grab some ammo," they said, without looking back at Rhys. That would keep him around. Someone would have to carry their stuff, seeing as they didn't have a Storage Deck on them anymore. Maya probably found it near the bandit camp, it would be in Sanctuary now. Maybe the others had already divvied up their guns. Or would everyone act weird about it, like they'd done with Roland's things?
That their belongings might be treated with that level of useless sentimentality annoyed them. It shouldn't matter if they were dead.
Mourning seemed almost like pity.

They put that out of their mind, forcing themself to focus on the guns in front of them. Most were the standard models that any Lance foot soldier would carry. They selected a pump-action sniper rifle, turning it over in their hands.
"Not bad." A sniper rifle was more than they'd need for defending themself indoors, but they didn't feel right not having one on them. They slung it over their shoulder before grabbing a standard issue semi-automatic rifle.
The guns felt heavier than they should, but Zer0 tried not to dwell on that.

"There is a range here?" they asked.

Rhys gave them a blank look for a moment before seeming to process their question.

"Oh! Yeah, over here." He led them past a few more rows of gear, through another automatic door

The range was big, at least. Twelve wide lanes, separated on each side by dividers, with a good fifty meters between the booths and the empty back wall. Rhys had no point of reference for shooting ranges, but it was probably larger than most.
He hoped it was somehow something impressive, for Zer0's sake. They seemed even more off than before. It made sense, they were probably going a little stir crazy.

"Are there targets?" Zer0 asked.

"Oh, right. I-I've never really messed with this, but it should—hold on." He set down the ammo boxes in a central lane, then stepped into the small, windowed office on the opposite side. Like so much else in the facility, this control room had seen little use. It was mostly empty except for a stool and a console with a few monitors, all but one of which were linked to the disabled security cameras. The remaining monitor showed the prompt "CHOOSE SIMULATION". Beneath it was a list of options: Pandoran Wildlife, DAHL Infantry, Civilian Targets, Bandit Camp.
"Okay, this'll be neat. If it uh, if it works."

Zer0 didn't respond as Rhys enabled the Bandit Camp.

There was a humming sound as the simulation flickered to life. The space between the booths and far wall became a cluster of tents and dilapidated structures, somewhere out in the Rust Commons. The room appeared to stretch on for miles, ending on a horizon bordering a smog-choked sky.

"Hologram targets? / An extravagant setup," Zer0 said as Rhys came out of the office. They aimed their rifle. "...I'm not complaining."

"Yeah, Atlas did a lot of research into super advanced holographic tech, they never released this realistic stuff to the public, but try shooting one, it should—"

Zer0 took their first shot. A bandit fell and his comrades went into a frenzy. Some dived behind cover and returned Zer0's fire with immaterial bullets that never reached them.

"—It should do that," Rhys finished. "Pretty cool, right?"

"This is sufficient." They shot a second bandit. "I appreciate this, Rhys."

"Yeah, glad to help." He didn't know why he felt so disappointed. Realistically, what more could he have expected from them? Glowing praise? "Feel free to use this place whenever—Vaughn won't be anywhere near here."

They took another shot.

"Sooo...Speaking of Vaughn, if you're good to go here I'm gonna get back and—"

"I have to wonder / Have you ever held a gun?" They interrupted, again. "So much as touched one?"

"I, um…" He stared at them, stupidly, for a few seconds too long. "I-I mean, I uh, I never held a gun per se, but if you count Gortys' controls—with the finger gu—"

"I don't."

"Yeah, then, no."

Zer0 projected a ":\". "Why not?"

"I never really needed to."

Their projection changed to a "LOL". "When I first met you / You were almost a skag's meal. / You needed a gun."

"Okay, I guess that's fair," he admitted. Zer0 would have still had to rescue him, he'd been petrified, unable to react. But they didn't seem like someone who'd ever frozen up in a crisis, they wouldn't understand. "Most people didn't walk around Helios armed, except the guards, and uh, and Jack. When he was alive. Yvette offered to get me one—before I came down to Pandora—but I went with the stun rod instead."

They gave him a "ತ_ತ".

"What? I had Loaderbot too, and I didn't die. I just—I'd never used a gun, and the 'you'll shoot your eye out' lecture they give kids sticks with you a lot more when it's 'you'll shoot your remaining eye out'."

"That's what they told you?"

"You never heard all those cautionary horror stories about kids with guns?"

"I…" They started, and then paused, looking back down at their gun with ellipses projected over their visor. "Should I have?"

"I thought it was a common—Actually, uh, I guess it's more of a central planet suburb thing?"
Zer0 wasn't human, they probably came from some brutal warrior culture or something. Maybe they grew up on a border planet, which wasn't that different.

"Hm." They looked at him long enough that he started to feel awkward. "Your eyes will be safe. / Guns shoot in the direction / That you point them in."

"Heh, yeah…" His voice came out quieter than he'd intended. "I guess you'd have to be trying to—or uh, pretty stupid, but…"

"Would you like to learn?"

Rhys glanced at the simulated bandits, reset to their neutral positions after Zer0 had cleared out their predecessors. "Now?"

"We're already here. / I doubt you will get more sleep. / So, what better time?"

He hesitated. They were right, and Vaughn didn't normally wake up for another few hours. "I could give it a try?"

"You have been watching." They gestured him over and gave him the sniper rifle. He held it like they'd plopped a dead fish in his hands. "Now, take aim. It is easy."

"Okay, reminding you, I have literally never done this before." He lifted the gun, putting himself in a position that he hoped resembled a shooting stance.

"You are left-handed."

"Yeah, that uh, didn't occur to me, but now that you mention it… Is that going to be a problem?"

"With that rifle, yes." They took it back, trading him for the other gun they'd grabbed. "This one is ambidextrous. / You won't hurt yourself." They paused before adding, "How much do you know?"

"I've seen a lot of shooting since I got to Pandora, sometimes it wasn't directed at me? I'm not sure how educational that was."

They considered this for a moment. "You should start with the stance, then. / Raise the gun, again."

He did. "Like this?"

"Close." They took both of his shoulders, gently adjusting the way he'd angled himself. They pulled his left elbow inward, slid his right hand slightly further down the stock.
"You need to relax, Rhys. / You are far too tense."

"Right, okay." Relaxing was easier once they let go of his hand.

"Keep both eyes open / And focus on the front sight. / ...Lean into the shot."

He stared down the sights for a moment, squinting. He could barely focus on anything. "Really? Both eyes open?"

"You'll get used to it." They leaned back against the divider. "Awareness is important. / On the battlefield."

"Yeah, I'm hoping to avoid any more full-blown battlefields."

"Just do it."

He picked out one of the nearer bandits—a nomad that dwarfed his comrades—spent a painfully long time trying to line him up with the sights, and pulled the trigger. It missed, as did his second and third shot.

"You're...Not good at this," Zer0 observed.

"That's very helpful, thanks." What did they expect from his first attempts? "Didn't you want to shoot?"

"Don't press the trigger so hard. / It moves the whole gun." They ignored his question, again.

He took a deep breath, aiming at the nomad once more. Or, aiming in that general direction, attempting to line up the sights while he wondered whether Zer0 was trying to be rude or if this was another one of their possibly-an-alien eccentricities.
He thought he might be starting to understand the way Maya talked to them.

Zer0 sighed when he missed yet again. It occurred to Rhys that they must have to make the active decision to sigh, as they didn't seem to breathe.
The word "infuriating" seemed fitting for Zer0, but maybe that was too harsh. They were just... Difficult? Frustrating? Baffling?

His next shot missed.

"Baffling" was probably right. Zer0 could be two entirely different people. One who was flattering and amiable, and the other, a blunt asshole who picked and chose when to acknowledge someone. Baffling.

Another miss.

When he glanced back at Zer0, they didn't seem to even be watching him anymore. Instead their attention was on the bandits.

It seemed a good time to experiment with his approach. The ECHOeye overlay appeared in front of him, highlighting the nomad. It took a moment to calculate the gun's position in relation to his target. He adjusted accordingly before pulling the trigger.

This time Rhys was pretty sure he got close. His eye recalculated for his slightly changed position. Exhaling, he pulled the trigger as steadily as he could.

The bullet went straight through the eyeslot of the nomad's helm, killing him. Rhys resisted the urge to glance back at Zer0 for their reaction. He readjusted, taking the next bandit down with a shot through the chest. After that he hit an arm, but the next was another headshot. It wasn't a fast method, but it was pretty accurate.

"Better?"

"That was... Impressive? For a beginner, that is. / I admit surprise."

He smirked. "Wow, that uh, that means a lot, coming from you."

Only when Zer0 projected a ":O" did Rhys realize he forgot to switch off his ECHOeye.
"That is cheating, Rhys."

He laughed, deactivating the eye. "To be fair, it worked way better than I expected. And hey, I convinced you for a second, which uh, really gotta hand it to me there—I didn't think you'd fall for it."

"Fine. I will hand it to you." They crossed their arms. "Shoot without it, now."

The rest of the bandits were still standing when he'd emptied the magazine about fifteen minutes later. He had managed to get one in the groin—not that he was aiming for it. That earned him a soft chuckle and a "Good job," from Zer0. They said nothing when he got another in the shoulder shortly afterward, nor did they seem to notice when he finally lowered the gun.

"I think I'm empty."

There seemed to be a slight delay before Zer0 heard him. "Hm?"

"I'm out of ammo. B-but I might be ready to call it a night?" His shoulder was starting to hurt and missing every shot was getting old.

"Can you reload it?" they asked, standing up straight. "Press the magazine release." They pointed to a button. "The mag will drop out."

He did so, catching the empty magazine and setting it aside.
Zer0's left hand was shaking as they popped open the ammo box.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Yes," they replied without hesitation, handing him a fresh magazine.

He took it and watched as Zer0 returned to their place at the divider. Their right hand, the cybernetic one, was steady, but the other still shook uncontrollably. That alone was cause for concern, but worse were the dark spots soaking through their sweater.
"Are you bleeding?!"

An exclamation mark flashed over their visor as they looked down, touching the largest spot. "Not heavily."

Rhys set down both the gun and magazine. "Okay, wait here. I'm going to get the uh, the health hypo things? You should—you should probably sit down."

"That is unneeded. / I can take care of myself." They followed him, trembling as they walked.

Rhys slowed enough that they could catch up. By now he knew arguing wouldn't go anywhere. "Did this just start?"

They looked at him for a moment, then returned their gaze straight ahead, not answering.

"You could have said something."

"This will not kill me."

"Okay, the database entry specifically pointed out that it can definitely kill you." Hyperion hadn't seen it necessary to mention anything about when these symptoms would begin to manifest, nor how long it took for the wounds to fully reopen. The bleeding didn't seem heavy yet, but what if it got worse?
"Is this the first time this happened?"

"...The wounds, yes."

He wished he'd had the foresight to bring some hypos along.
"If you need help walk—"

"No."

"Yeah, I kinda thought that's what you'd say. I'll leave the offer open."

Zer0 was slowing by the minute. They began taking longer strides in attempts to keep up the pace, only to start lagging again.

"Seriously, if you just wait here, I can bring them back to you."

"No."

The two walked in silence until they reached the stairs.
"We're taking the elevator." Rhys said. If Zer0 insisted otherwise, he was prepared to at least attempt to drag them there, provided they didn't fight too hard. Instead, they only nodded and followed.

"Um… I'm not—not sure how to say this, but slag poisoning symptoms aren't personal failings?" Rhys said, once they were on the elevator.

Zer0 briefly glanced at him, but gave no response.

"You're only hu—or, you're not human, but the basic idea still stands."

"Does it?" They stared straight ahead, at the door. Their irritation was palpable, but at this point, Rhys didn't care.

"Yes, it does," he said, firmly. "You don't have to prove anything! It's ridiculously impressive that you survived in the first place!"

"That was your doing," they snapped back. "I survived because of you. / I can't—"
The elevator buzzed when it stopped on the fifth floor, the door began to open.
Zer0's sword was in their hand before Rhys even saw Vaughn.

Authors Note: (wow I still have no idea what the standards for formatting author's notes on are. Sorry that I'm changing this between chapters lol) Before anyone says anything, guns aren't like, SUPER loud in Borderlands and NO ONE has any concept of trigger discipline or anything else pertaining to gun safety (though I'd think central planet suburbs at least are like "huh, maybe kid's shouldn't have those"). I don't even think guns have safeties in Borderlands TBH.
Also, in response to a comment I got: It doesn't matter what voice you imagine Zer0 having tbh? And there's no such thing as innately gendered voices. I know they like, changed Zer0's voice in episode 5 to be more androgynous when they were supposed to start using they/them pronouns, but that was dumb. If it matters, I write this imagining the best Zer0 voice, which is their original bl2 voice.
(Also, lol I didn't do three -tion chapters in a row on purpose it just happened)