Waves of turmoil, rivers of misery and mountains of pain all cast aside in the face of a challenge waking anew. Slipping, agitated like a blind cat among pigeons, groping around in the dark in exchange for a few minutes of life spilled back into their hourglasses - futile attempts of the wicked.

What point was there in prolonging his stay? It felt like the only proper thing to do, throwing off the reins that bound him to any other sources of life giving essence, biting away any hands that tried to feed. Why?

He could not answer.

It warped into an obsession he couldn't quite grasp. The ill yearning for complete independence, for the ability to go anywhere at any time, to pride himself in being a man of his own.

But he was no man. Just a mere child, clinging onto memories and a mask that slipped ever so slightly with each passing day.

Despite all, he yearned. In the non corporeal playpen that was his mind at its most intimate, he found himself dousing the crimson corridors with the cleansing liquid that engulfed the one who brought the boy into this land and left him to rot. Staining the pictures, covering the bright souls living within with a hellfire yet to be lit, it was but a desperate attempt at showing control, gaining the lead over everything that laid under his reign.

With the flames raging behind, away went the times long lost, pushing him forward into the den of nightly intimacy and affection. He crossed the border, locking the rampant slaughter behind.

Waiting, nestled into the couch and its fuzzy cushions was a distorted image of someone he knew all his aimless life. Someone close. Someone who had his heart in a tight grasp.

She did not utter a word. Her smile was no more. In her eyes laid nothing but pure disappointment.

She did not protest as his blood covered hands slithered around her throat, locking like a serpent constrictor around its prey. Squeezing the air from her lungs, the life from her windpipe, pushing her down against the surface with the intent to break the chains that bound him.

Yet, she did not make a single sound. No gasping for air, no words of protest. Only the cold, piercing gaze of disappointment.

His hands were confident at first - the palms of a heartless killer. It was just another soul taken from someone he convinced himself to have hated. Taking just another life with no remorse, no guilt and no thought behind his empty eyes.

Then, the tremors set in. His grasp faltered, as her warm skin pulsated under his touch. The reality dawned on him whole, gutting his insides and spilling them all across the floor.

He couldn't. The restraints bit too deeply into his skin. Joined his muscles, became an integral part of the machine. Tearing the chains was a task far too great for the child hidden deep within. Not even the mask could help.

He was too weak. Too weak to leave the nest and let the winter breeze carry him wherever. Too broken to pick the pieces and put himself back into one. He wanted this to be his reality. He needed this.

And so, he found himself clinging onto the false memory once more, tears pouring from his eyes and disappearing into the folds of her warm, fuzzy sweater. With the soft wool tickling his face, he finally felt at home for once, in his inequitable existence of misery brought upon by no one but himself. As his arms held onto the girl he loved so inexplicably, his mind cleared, growing absolutely blank, letting go of any shame and fear, allowing more sobs and tears to pour from his face.

This was his private little heaven on Terra. The moment that could last an eternity. Her fingers brushed through his curls, rubbing the weary head and flicking away all worries of the mind. Pushing his face even deeper into the softness of her sweater, she held him exactly as close as he wanted her to.

And she was smiling. His mind knew that was all he ever wanted to see.

…

Somehow, someway, someday their path turned dire, forcing drastic changes into play. A single slip up during a job seemingly so simple, a mere insignificant mistake - enough to topple the empire they had built up.

A mistake caused by none other but W, because who else, obviously.

And yet, in the face of an ambush so grand and deadly, a force unmatched by even the most powerful of casters split the combat zone, sending the devils to their knees in unison. Not even Andy could resist the urge to bend under Her Majesty's unyielding radiance.

Away from the tumult of war, led forward by the light that ruled over the land, four tattered souls (one of them, [W] barely alive and unconscious) crossed the battlefield, carried by an unlikely savior towards salvation. Beyond the chaos that ruled this hell, isolated from the hustle and bustle of Kazdel's everyday mercenary shenanigans laid a haven of peace as large as the grandest of mountains surrounding Laterano. Standing tall above everything amidst these lifeless plains, towering over every sharp rock formation and hill, a real giant of steel reigned this land.

The heart of Babel, a colossal mass of wires and engines, of cogs and metal - a vessel to traverse the raging ocean that was Kazdel. A landship to stand the test of time over and over again.

Rhodes Island.

Within its endless halls, its corridors lived their own lives. Bustling with hundreds of little ants making up a colony so grand and lively - each one of them, a soul with a story to tell and a dream to achieve. Visions of grandeur, plans of might, put aside in the face of war, the only unmoving constant.

Andy sat in a designated waiting area, killing time as his diagnostic test results were being processed, staring at the room in wonder. He's never seen such a technically advanced organism, let alone been inside one. It all felt so new and exciting.

But his joy faded at the thought of what he had to do next. A decision in the making for the past couple of weeks, only to be finalized today. He listened to a timid medic operator babble about his health state, focusing on his untreated lung wound and remarking that the fact he survived for so long in such deplorable condition was nothing short of a miracle. He thanked the nice lady and gathered his guns, eager to explore the place one final time before his inevitable departure.

Traversing the catacombs of technological wonder, he couldn't help but soak each sight and sound in, passing by cubical drones with little wings floating about, professional operators clad in heavy armor chatting it up and engaging in water cooler banter. Every step he took felt divinely sluggish, as if he slowly kept dragging himself out from some sort of binding cocoon, reborn as a new creature, eager to start fresh.

He passed by a horde of flying drones, gathered around a black haired sarkaz woman slouched over a mess of wires protruding from an automatic door's motorics system. He stopped for just a moment to admire the sight, watching a real technical magician work her magic.

A bouquet of sparks flew past the technician, making the boy gasp in awe. She let out a few sarkaz curses under her breath and tapped two open wires together. The door budged, barely inching open, only to shut close right after. With a tired sigh, she turned towards the drone companions.

"See, that's our entire Friday morning gone. First, they break these ancient ass mechanisms, then they… Ah, what the hell."

Her hands dove deep into the wires, twirling and grabbing, grasping and pulling.

"... "Oh, Closure, why don't you take a look at the lower deck's storage room door? Oh, Closure, I'm sure it'll take a genius like you just a few minutes to fix", a few minutes my ass. Thing's busted for good…"

Andy kept staring at the flock of drones circling around her like a pack of hungry vultures. Or a clutter of kittens gathered 'round their mom. It was kind of adorable in a way.

The woman seemed to have sensed a pair of eyes glued into the back of her head, as she swiftly turned towards the boy. Her irises expanded at the unexpected sight.

"O-... Oh? Sankta? 'Guess we really are going international, then."

She chuckled with a hint of glee sprinkling from her voice. Andy awkwardly shuffled his feet.

"Uh… Yeah. I mean, right? Should be cooped up in Laterano somewhere, not out here on the field."

"Uh-huh. How's the local wildlife treating ya? Got called "Lawie", much?"

With her hands back in the lush, tangled sea of wires, her gaze averted. The teasing tone was surprisingly pleasant, devoid of any ill intent. Definitely not something the boy was used to, at all.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

Another gentle laugh left her lips as she battled with the insubordinate mechanism, sending sparks flying all over the hallway. She clicked her tongue in annoyance, sending all the drones panicking, flocking to her sides in worry.

"Riiight… Look, I'd love to be the one who gets to show the new guy around, but I'm real busy here. And, pardon my assumption, but I don't think you're very well versed when it comes to old world electrical installations, are you?"

He's never even changed a battery in an alarm clock. Never needed one with W around. Both W's, actually.

"Not really. I usually break things, not repair them."

"Exactly…"

Another plume of wild electricity ran rampant across the corridor, shooting down a drone. The rest immediately flocked to their fallen comrade, flapping their little wings in horrified panic. The sarkaz blinked a few times, turning to the toasted cube twitching on the floor. She sighed again.

"... That's what I get. Apologies for not being a grade A interlocutor, but… Y'know."

She shrugged apologetically and pointed to the dying drone, its brothers and sisters desperately trying to flap it back to life with their tiny wings.

"I… Yeah, I get it. I'll just leave you to it."

With a wink, she bid her farewells and got to wiping the robotic remains off the metallic floor. Andy left her alone with the flock of silly little helpers, delving deeper into the sprouting organism that was the landship. Passing by grand storage rooms, with gigantic racks and shelves lining the walls, touching the high ceilings, walking by laboratories filled with equipment he couldn't materialize in his imagination, even if he tried real hard. Despite that, it was clear that the landship was still just being put together, gathered from the ashes and welded anew.

Lost in thought, creativity and impulsive inspiration running rampant, fueling his dreams of total independence, he passed a corner and came to a halt, as a soft obstacle ran into his stomach, immediately recoiling back and falling onto the floor. Andy's hand barely inched, reaching for his holster, but stopped immediately as he assessed the situation, finding himself standing in front of a very young, small cautus girl, sprawled out on the metal below.

Her long, fluffy ears kept twitching, as she looked up at the boy from behind a curtain of brown hair. What a poor, innocent creature.

Andy offered her a hand with a gentle smile on his face, finding the sight very adorable. Much different from all the other children of Kazdel he had the displeasure of seeing, either horribly disease ridden or forced to steal and undertake other dishonorable feats just to survive. She, however… She seemed unnaturally normal. A bit clumsy and timid, sure, but pure and free of any sin this land forced upon every soul living within.

The girl graced him with a shy smile and took his hand. She stood up, keeping her bright, blue eyes locked on his gray, tired spheres, the witnesses to horrors beyond her comprehension. Andy felt as if her gaze somehow pierced beyond his mask, beyond the tormented face, taking a look deep into his very psyche. Boring into his head, licking the thought bearing salt off the nooks and crannies of his brain, learning of everything the boy desperately tried to hide.

Each bullet fired, each life taken, each person lost and each life shattering storm survived.

The turmoil within, the cool mask outside, not even the late night intimacies were safe from her piercing eyes. She let go of his hand, taking a small step back. Her smile disappeared. She seemed genuinely worried.

Without a word, she turned to flee, leaving the boy standing all alone in the hallway, too stunned to even utter a single word, to form a coherent thought.

"..."

So, onward he went, still a bit shaken.

As he passed another corner, this time he found himself being the obstacle running into another person's way.

"Oops, sorry…"

The short figure in front barely budged, turning their hooded facade towards the boy. All masked up, with a pair of sharp eyes scanning every last inch of his person from behind a dim visor. He couldn't even make out the silhouette's gender, not even any distinguishable features, due to their large, shapeless lab coat. Their eyes narrowed and expanded at the sight of Andy standing in front of them, looking all lost and confused.

"A sankta…"

The figure muttered underneath their breath, inching their hand towards the boy's halo. Before their fingers could graze the ring of light, they stopped, however, apparently remembering the very basics of human decency and person to person communication. No touchy.

Andy tilted his head, sensing an opportunity to finally stand his ground.

"Yeah? A sankta. Is that a problem?"

His voice came out a little too aggressive than he would've liked, but the message got through. Or so he thought, at least.

The hooded figure scratched their chin, completely absorbed in their own thoughts, as if already planning ten moves ahead, already preparing dinner in their mind. They shook their head.

"No, no, of course not… Of course not."

And just like that, the faceless creep passed by Andy's side, disappearing behind an automatic door. Not even a proper goodbye, let alone an introduction. So rude, so… Disorientated. This place was full of weirdos.

Once again, he was left standing in the empty hall, looking for a place to explore next. A cranny to stick his nose into, to sniff out any exciting personalities to meet as an equal, not a stray clinging onto foreign ideas just to stay afloat. To let them welcome the new Andrew Ricketts, reborn into a beautiful butterfly that doesn't grovel at anyone's feet, that soars high and stands proud, locking gazes with even the most vile of opponents, the highest ranking noblemen and women…

"... Oh, Andrew! Andrew, is that you?"

His ears perked up at the soft voice lovingly caressing his ear drums. He turned around, finding himself standing face to face with no one else but the one and only rightful King of all sarkaz, the Lord of Fiends, Her Majesty Theresa in the flesh.

His heart fell out from his chest and dropped to the ground, twirling away in shameful panic. His eyes were quite literally popping out of their sockets, catching droplets of sweat running down his forehead. Before the radiant figure of pure light and gentle might, Andy was nothing but a trembling mess. A quivering pile of jelly. So much for all that rebirth bullshit.

As a hint of confusion graced her warm, face melting smile, her head tilted in genuine worry.

"Andrew…? Are you okay? You seem… Distressed."

Andy blinked twice, finding his tongue hiding somewhere deep down his throat. A tiny, miniscule, utterly insignificant voice left his lips.

"I-I'm alright, Your Majesty."

"It's okay, Andrew! We're all overstressed with work and… Our less than ideal circumstances."

A few sparks flew from a broken door card reader by her side. The King frowned for just a moment, recalling that homely smile back onto her face as her gaze graced the boy, still paralyzed in fear.

"... So it's only natural that you don't burden yourself with all the proper titling and tongue twisting. Please, call me by my name."

A wave of burning warmth shot down Andy's spine, unfreezing each bone locked in place. He nervously cleared his throat, feeling his legs turning from a wobbly pile of gelatin to something just a tad bit more solid.

"O-Of course, Miss Theresa."

"That's much better."

Her pink eyes bored into his skull, filling him with an inexplicable sense of safety and comfort. To his disbelief, Her Majesty bobbed him a curtsy, grasping the soft, divine fabric of her white dress. She seemed to have very much enjoyed that little misdemeanor.

"I know we haven't yet been properly introduced, but I took the liberty of asking around about you, Andrew. Not that there's any mistrust between any of us, I simply like poking my nose into the private affairs of others. New recruits, especially."

A girlish giggle left her lips, to Andy's confused amusement.

"A certain… Explosive personality had a few interesting words to say. Some of them, I'm afraid I can't repeat."

"W-Why, Your M-... I mean, Miss Theresa?"

"Oh, I shouldn't stain my mouth with such vile profanities. Neither should I defile your poor ears, Andrew."

She gave a small nod, that light, warm smile never leaving her face. He was utterly mesmerized.

"But that is not to say everything she mentioned was all violent and terrible! She seems to hold you in… Some strange sort of positive regard. I don't know if I should go as far as to say she was worried about you… Most likely not, but she did ask whether you were still alive. And I think I caught a glimpse of a smile before she forced a frown at the mention that you, in fact, are."

Andy kept staring at her bright, beaming face, the image of pure innocence. Not a single painting or newspaper picture he's ever seen could accurately portray the type of calming aura she produced.

"I t-think she just wants to murder me herself, Miss Theresa."

The King giggled.

"Oh, please. Even so, I'm sure she's very eager to see you, Andrew. Down the hall, last door on the right."

She nodded and closed her eyes, seemingly waiting for him to leave. Andy took a few wobbly steps forward, inching towards the door.

"Oh, and one more thing!"

His head kept spinning as he glanced back towards Her Majesty.

"... Welcome aboard, Andrew! Glad to have you join us."

He nodded and smiled weakly. He really didn't have the heart to tell her he was going to leave straight away and go off on a mindless goose chase for independence.

"Thank you, M-Miss Theresa."

Her radiance dimmed as the automatic door opened and closed behind him. It was a small room. Some essential furniture, a wardrobe, a mirror… And a certain fiend sitting in the very middle on a rough looking bed. Out of her usual heavy, tactical attire, W somehow managed to look even more daunting, rocking nothing but a plain black tee and some shapeless pants. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of an angel in her lowly abode, a smug smirk creeping onto her face.

"Look who it is. Our Lawdog, still in one piece, unfortunately."

"More meat for the grinder, no?"

She cackled, leaning her back against the headboard.

"Sure. However you wanna see it, Drew."

Pat, pat. Her palm tapped against the soft mattress, a spot reserved for the one she hated most. Andy dropped Vinny by the door and crawled over, nestling himself comfortably by her side. A moment of silence followed, as the two stared at the rifle resting snugly in the opposite end of the room. Neither Andy or W had the energy to say or think of anything witty to throw out there.

"... You two had fun blabbering?"

"Uh-huh. Girls' gossip, you wouldn't get it."

She shifted lightly, grasping the knife laying on her night stand. To Andy, it was a fleeting memory of the former W, someone who lived too fast for their own good. To W, it was just a knife.

"... I could slice your throat open right now, no one would hear you."

Andy nodded.

"Yeah. I know."

"..."

Silence, once more. Andy's familiar, well understood companion. To W, Lady Silence was nothing but a stranger, as the fiend had a tendency to never keep her mouth shut. She kept staring at the knife in her hands, no words leaving her lips. Something felt off.

"... I never thanked you for dragging my ass through that forest."

"You didn't."

Such strange was her intermittent way of speech, so different from the usual unending stream of insane nonsense.

"... And I hope you're not expecting me to. 'Cause you know I won't, right?"

She turned towards him, without that snarky smile, without any exaltation in her voice. She was just stating a fact.

"Uh-huh. I think I got the idea by now."

"Good, good."

Her fingers kept playing with the knife, twirling it around, sliding along the blade reflecting her unnaturally calm face.

"How strange can it get? You, of all people. Despite everything, you treat me like an actual person."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"You left a bag full of cash to drag me across a forest at night. As we were both tripping balls, too."

She let out a snort.

"And just a day after I broke your ribs and almost caved your skull in. There anything in the water you drink?"

"Think so."

"Seriously. I thought I was the insane one of the four of us, but…"

She let the knife fall softly onto her lap, turning her eyes towards the boy. Their gazes locked.

"... You're not so bad."

"..."

Coming from her, he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.

"Don't tell me I'm growing on you."

"Tch. Now you're pushing it, Lawdog."

"Good, good. 'Cause I'm leaving."

Her head twitched. Barely noticeable to the untrained eye.

"... For good?"

"Hopefully."

"..."

She kept staring into the blade's reflection. Gazes locked with the person in the mirror, barely recognizing her face.

"... If that's what you wanna do. Not like I care, anyway."

"I know. Figured I'd drop by and say goodbye."

"Like the sentimental worm you are."

"Exactly."

"You're pathetic, Drew."

"Piss off."

They both chuckled, genuinely for once.

"So this is your final goodbye? Disappointed I'm not crying?"

"Just a bit. But I'll manage."

"I know you will."

Her fingers gently placed the knife in his lap. Their eyes met once more.

"Take it. Almost gutted you with it twice, might as well make a nice gift. Something to..."

A gentle smile adorned her face, a sight completely foreign to anyone who's ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with the merc.

"... Something to remember me by."

The boy grasped the handle, feeling their fingers brush against one another. He felt strangely warm on the inside.

"Sentimental worm."

"Tch. Can still gut you with it."

Andy couldn't help but smile as the knife laid comfortably in his hand. Heavy, but not too heavy. Owned by two people he truly despised, two people he really did not want to leave behind. Not at all.

"... Thanks, W."

"No biggie. Now, out of my sight. C'mon. Or I'll blow this entire room up with both of us inside."

Her smirk was back. The tone shifted once more, bringing about a sense of arrogance, that holier-than-thou aura seeping out with each word she spoke.

Yet he knew that at that moment, he witnessed her own mask being readjusted into place after a tiny slip up. A gentle nudge. He knew it all too well.

How familiar it felt.

With the knife in a holster wrapped 'round his ankle, with Vinny on his back, Nuffer on his hip, Ricketts hanging off his neck, and the two forgotten souls resting in his pants' pocket, he was finally ready. Ready to set out. By the main mess hall, his path crossed with Hedley and Ines, slouched over a bunch of contracts.

Hoederer did not seem surprised at his sudden decision in the slightest. He shook his hand, wanting to end their professional relationship on a positive note. As much as Andy was just another face in a sea of worthless mercs, it was better to part as friends, not enemies.

Ines understood. She even smiled, for once. Something about finally taking the initiative, about rats crawling across empty battlefields.

Just before he was about to leave, a pair of bright, green eyes flashed in the very corner of his sight. His heart skipped a beat.

"Anton…?"

A figure clad in a long medical robe, their hair white and soft, fluffy ears protruding from the top. The boy chased them down the hallway.

"Anton! Anton, wait…!"

The figure stopped and turned. With a gaze that could pierce even the largest of mountains, a look so cold it could make hell freeze over, the feline lady stared down at the boy, filling his mind with a sense of immense inferiority.

"What did you say?"

"O-Oh. I'm sorry, Miss, I thought you were someone else."

She blinked. There was completely no emotion in her voice, just frost.

"Mistakes. It's "Doctor" to you, merc."

"Apologies, Doctor."

Having spoken her mind, she turned to leave. She was so similar, though, a perfect lookalike…

"Excuse me, Doc…"

"Doctor."

She corrected him once more, sharp. If words could cut, he'd already be lying dead on the floor, decapitated.

"... Doctor, sorry. May I ask, uh, is there an operator that goes by the name "Newmaker" present anywhere around here…?"

Her ears twitched violently. Her eyes widened for just a split second, filling with something else than blank coldness. Something deeper. A mere glimmer of shock and fear.

A quarter of a second later, it was all back to normal.

"No."

"No? But…"

"There is no one of that name at Babel."

"..."

Andy was left more confused than he was before asking the question

"... Thank you, Doctor."

Without a word, she turned and left, carrying off to tend to her duties.

For the last time, he was left all alone.

His gaze turned towards the door. The wide plains of Kazdel waiting on the other side.

He stepped off the very bottom of the stairs, letting his worn rubber soles grace the land's weary face.

Rats, scurrying around the battlefield. Free, unbound.

His mind congratulated him. His heart screamed to turn back.

For once, he was truly by himself. The master of fate.

Truly independent.