He kept running and running, past the binding doors, past the gate to freedom. Once again, Andy found himself on the bustling streets of Laterano. Past the liberi salesmen and saleswomen, past the newspaper boys and past the dessert stands. Diving into the ocean of worried souls, all hurrying off along their own path. The warmth of the sun breaking through the cold, reflecting off the flocks of their halos and dimming the wings of pure light.

"'Scuse me… 'Scuse me…"

Andy kept wading through the crowds, with a single destination in mind. A chance to visit his sick, probably bedridden friend. A chance to finally give, instead of taking.

After narrowly avoiding being trampled by the crowd, he broke away from the angelic masses and jumped into a narrow alleyway. A shortcut he knew all too well. It took him a mere couple of minutes before he found himself standing in front of an incredibly familiar, marble lined, single story house.

Knock, knock.

The door soon swung open, revealing a forty something year old woman with locks of long, crimson hair cascading down her figure. A warm, familiar smile immediately stretched out on her face as she noticed the little scoundrel on her doorstep.

"Drewie!"

"Hello miss-..."

"Hello, hello, it's ten degrees outside and you're out without a coat?! El's sick already, that's enough worries for me… C'mon, come in, come in…"

She hurried him inside and locked the door. Andy felt a wave of pleasant familiarity wash over him. This place was kind of like his second home, after all. Warm, rhubarb colored wallpapers, lazy, snug furniture, pictures of a happy, perfect family scattered all over the walls. A younger Andy even made a guest appearance on some of them, usually graduation photos. As the sweet smell of pie filled his nostrils, all the guilt and unpleasantries connected to this place, the idiotic feeling of being a leech and a pest disappeared in an instant.

This wasn't the time for self righteousness and playing martyr.

"Oh, you're just in time, Drewie. Made us some apple pie, for El and I. You know how she likes her sweets. It's still cooling down, but… Give it a minute or two. Anyhow, how was school? Good? Got notes for Lemuel? She could use some, judging by her grades… Oh and how's your dad? Haven't heard from him in a while, must've been real busy with…"

Her sweet voice filled Andy's ears and made him drift off a bit. Sweeter than any pie he could've ever tasted. Good thing she loved waffling so much.

"Uh-huh… Yup, everything's fine, uh-huh."

She joined her hands together and glanced down at the little rascal with a warm, loving, almost pitiful look. She clicked her tongue.

"The mere fact that your dad let you leave this morning without a coat! What a… What a… Ah, forget it. Anyway, I bet you're just itching to see Lemuel, hm? I'm such a chatterbox, pardon me. She's in her room, just don't get too close, it could be infectious, whatever she has. Haven't yet made a proper diagnosis, see, our family doctor's on leave, away in Iberia, visiting some relatives, oh that woman just always picks the worst times, ah… Oh, but don't worry, it's not oripathy, can't be. I would've ripped those crystals out myself, had I seen any! Ah, but I digress again, sorry, Drewie…"

With a goofy grin on his face, Andy kept nodding along, agreeing with each sweet word that was spoken to him. His hair received a second ruffling of the day, before Lemuel's mother finally left him to himself.

What an amazing place.

It'd be best to describe it as warm. And stuffy, but in the best way possible.

Andy still remembers his first visit here.

A whole bunch of years ago, right after his dad made the choice of selling their old house. The old man figured it'd be an appropriate move to get to know his new neighbors and the general area. Scout out the vicinity for any of those 24/7 shops with bulletproof windows, a great source of cigarettes and frozen meals. Poor, little Andy was being dragged along like a puppet, a prop for his father, saying "Look, new neighbors! I have a small child with me, which means I'm a trustworthy and harmless person! I'm very responsible and my life is not falling apart!"

After a while of this masquerade, Andy spotted a little playground. He tugged and tugged at his dad's sleeve, non verbally begging for a little break, a chance to go play in the sand or something. The old man budged.

With a silly grin plastered over his face, Andy ran for the playground, as his father took the time to set himself up on a bench, probably waiting for creative inspiration to hit him like opium based narcotics hit the low income neighborhoods of Lungmen back in the 1050s. There were a few older kids playing around with blanks, some brats hogging the swings… and a lone little soul, sitting by herself in the sandpit. Andy waddled over and plopped right next to the redhead. It was friendship at first sight. Or, maybe, second sight, when the girl pulled out a full pack of crayons.

As the two of them were enjoying the palatable, wax based delicacies, loud, yet pleasant yells interrupted their leisure time. That very same sweet voiced woman, but a few years younger, ran up to the two, flailing her arms and scolding the redhead for eating crayons and encouraging others to do so as well. She kept talking and talking, apologizing to Andy, but he did not know why. She asked him where his parents were. He pointed to the bench where his father should've been sitting. No one in sight. Curious.

The woman started freaking out, dragging poor Andy all over the playground, then all over the neighborhood in search for his parents. He couldn't tell her his new address, because he hadn't yet nailed it into his memory. He couldn't tell her his father's phone number, because he didn't know it, either. The situation was dire, but he did not know why. He was having so much fun.

So she just took him along, back home. Into that very same, pie smelling abode, with the lazy furniture and red wallpapers. It was one of the best days ever, for the little moron. He was given pie to eat and a new friend to mess around with, as her mother and father were frantically trying to find the missing parents of this poor, lost child. Having given them his old address, they managed to locate and contact Mr Reiff, who rushed to the abode as fast as he could.

What a scolding he got. Andy had never, ever, in his life, even up to this point, witnessed a grown adult being scolded by another, so fiercely. And it was Lem's mother doing the scolding, so there were a lot of things she had to say.

"To think anyone could be so air headed! To just leave a child, unattended and… and what, go home? How can you just forget about something like that? How can you FORGET TO BRING YOUR OWN CHILD HOME? How have you not forgotten to put on your shoes before coming here? Are you out of your mind, mister? Oh and such luck, such luck it was ME who found this poor little angel, not some disgusting… perverted freak! Oh, Law, may you watch over this poor child, because THIS IDIOT SURELY WON'T! Oh, Who Would Leave Their Son out in the Sun? Oh, Law…"

Poor Mr Reiff, being a very non-confrontational man, simply kept gazing at his shoes and nodding, muttering quiet "I'm sorry"'s every few seconds, whenever the furious chatterbox took a little breather in between her rants.

After half an hour of constant yelling, they both left.

Andy, content with how the day went, elated and happy that he's made himself a great, new friend.

Mr Reiff, on the other hand, feeling downright suicidal. Poor man couldn't bring himself to write down a single thought for the next two weeks.

Back in the present, however, Andy pushed aside the door to Lem's room and entered. What an absolute mess it was. But a homey, warm mess.

"Andy! Hey!~"

There it is. That squeaky voice he knew so well. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of his usually hyperactive buddy laying in bed with a comically large ice pack on her head and a thermometer hanging from her mouth.

"Hey, nice deathbed you got."

"Oh, shush…"

She scooted over, making some space for him to sit down.

"So? How was school?"

"Boring."

She raised an eyebrow. A feeling of deja vu enveloped them both.

"All of it?"

"I'm not as ambitious as you, so no flour bombs."

They chuckled. They were delivered fresh pie. They listened to her mom's quick rant about how quickly infectious diseases spread. They dug right in.

"How're you holding up, anyway?"

"O-Ohoh, you knoww, notwwing too bad, juwwt a cowwd. My mom's bwwowwing a fuwwe oveww the whowwe thing, but it's not twwat deep."

She made an attempt to swallow the mouthful of pie only after she was done speaking.

"... It's just that it gets hel-... very boring. En's out, somewhere, so I'm stuck here with… with that chatterbox."

Lemuel lowered her voice for those last few words. As sweet as her mother's voice was, Andy's already had enough for today. He glanced around the room and caught a glimpse of a rather interesting poster on her wall.

"Hey, is that…?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, they plastered a whole bunch of these all over our side wall, so I figured I'd borrow one. Not like they asked for permission anyway~"

Andy stood up and walked over to the bright piece of government propaganda. A cartoonish gun knight, standing atop a pile of horned devils, all of them sporting rather dark, depressing robes, with X's drawn over their eyes. The artist really made sure to turn up the coolness factor all the way up to eleven with this piece. Sharp lines, vivid, contrasting colors, the knight's shining armor, unscathed by the devils' filth. And how could you forget the huge, decked out, automatic rifle resting over his shoulder. The bottom part of the poster was adorned by just a single line of bright, white text.

"THE ONLY LAWFUL THING TO DO."

He could practically imagine himself in that knight's place, standing amidst mountains of empty shells, a smoking lead spitter in his hands, a wide, barren wasteland in front, devils scattered all over, each and every one of them full of holes, like their famed, Lateran cheese…

Andy wiped a drop of drool running down his chin,

"Looks hella sick…"

She covered her mouth and hissed back at him,

"Andy, language!"

"Okay, okay… But it's so cool!"

"Right?~ There's a lot left outside, you can just tear one off the wall, I'm sure they won't mind."

…

Hopefully, no one would.

After a pleasant afternoon spent discussing the current state of the Lateran arms manufacturing industry, Andy hurried over to the aforementioned wall. Had it been a few months prior, the chances of finding a piece like this perfectly intact would've been gravely diminished. With the constant rains and all, seeing how the quality of the posters wasn't of the highest grade. None of that fancy pants water and tear proof paper, no, just some regular, cheap junk. There were other expenses burdening Laterano's budget at the moment; mostly, importing pure originium ore from the deepest pits of Ursus, to be grinded down into dust and locked away in a longitudinal prison made of lead (courtesy of South Yan.)

Despite the posters' questionable quality, they seemed like utter perfection in the boy's starry eyes. Alluringly calling out to him, stacked up all the way to the triangular roof. What an eyesore for anyone else passing by.

Perfection.

He took a hesitant step forward. Reached out. Grasped the sheet. It came right off, without even a hint of a struggle. As if it's been waiting there just for him. To take it home and glue it to his wall. To stare at it for hours on end, while trying to fall asleep. To imagine himself standing atop that pile. To become someone. To find a purpose.

Now that the poster was in his hands, it seemed even more magnificent than before. The devils, even more dead and pathetic. The background, even brighter and more colorful. The Apostolic Gun Knight… For the lack of a better word, even more badass.

"THE ONLY LAWFUL THING TO DO."

Maybe it was?