Cold Reception

by Numbuh Phenon

When a rogue operative threatens to reveal the GKND, Nigel is sent back down to stop them by any means necessary. But people have changed and the boy is tangled in a web of love and betrayal as he finds out just who he has been assigned to hunt down.

23. The Sisters' Soliloquy

Ted E. Bear's Mafia Free Funland and Pizzeria's atmosphere thumped with rage, each breath heavy with the weight of unspoken grievances.

The flickering fluorescent lights overhead emitted a low, ominous buzz, casting erratic shadows that danced in tandem with the palpable malice permeating the air.

Amidst the din of simmering rage, the rusted animatronics stood sentinel, their glassy eyes reflecting the escalating discord like silent witnesses to the impending storm.

And then, as if on cue, the dam of suppressed emotions ruptured, unleashing a torrent of pent-up bitterness and resentment between two jaded souls, their voices echoing off the worn walls of the establishment, each word laden with the raw intensity of long-simmering animosity.

With a sudden burst of speed, Abby lunged forward, her ONE-WAY pike swinging in a wide arc aimed at Rachel's head. Rachel ducked just in time, the metal staff whistling past her ear. In retaliation, she swung her weapon, the rusty YIELD sign gleaming in the dim light as it collided with Abby's pike.

The impact reverberated through Rachel's arms, sending a jolt of pain up her spine. But she gritted her teeth and pushed forward, channeling her rage into each swing of her weapon.

Abby matched her blow for blow, her movements swift and precise as she sought to overpower her opponent. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal, the sound echoing through the abandoned pizzeria like a symphony of war.

No one but them was present. No one else was here to bear witness and appreciate the true blasphemy at play: two ROADSIGN weapons, symbols of Supreme Leaders' commitment to the defense of all things child-like and innocent, pitted against each other in a battle of hate and anger.

Each girl's focus was entirely on the battle at hand. Each one was driven by their motivations, their own desires for victory. But as the fight wore on, Rachel began to feel the strain of her injuries. The pain in her back intensified with each movement, slowing her reflexes and sapping her strength.

Abby, sensing an opening, pressed her advantage, raining down a barrage of blows upon Rachel's defenses. Rachel staggered backward, her arms trembling with exhaustion as she struggled to keep up with Abby's never-ending advance.

With a final, desperate effort, Rachel summoned the last of her strength and launched herself at Abby with deadly intent.

But Abby was ready. With a swift movement, she sidestepped Rachel's attack and delivered a powerful blow to her opponent's side, sending her crashing to the ground with a cry of pain and her YIELD sign clattering off to the side.

For a moment, everything was still as Rachel lay on the floor, gasping for breath. Abby kicked the YIELD staff away and stood over Rachel, pike raised and victory within her grasp.

But then, Rachel quietly surged forward, her hand closing around a discarded pizza tray lying nearby. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the disc flying through the air, straight at Abby's head. It collided with the girl's temple with a clank and stunned her, hand raising instinctively to nurse her new bump.

Rachel scampered away, finding a home in the shadows to draw distance between herself and her opponent. Rachel was confident, not stupid; head-to-head with a field operative like Numbuh Five while injured was suicide. She needed to fall back into her natural element.

Abby cursed as her vision cleared, seeing her prey was gone. She snorted, then wielded her staff defensively as she hopped into a dim corner. If Rachel was feeling nostalgic for stealth tactics, then fine. Two could play this game.

Breath even and steady, Rachel lurked in the now quiet establishment. The old, flickering neon lights cast long eerie shadows that she couldn't help but find welcoming. Her eyes darted, alert as she scanned for Abby and her discarded weapon.

"Aw, what's the matter, sir?" Abby's taunting voice made Rachel freeze. She tensed, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. "Too chicken to come out and fight me head-on?"

Rachel bit her tongue as she went prone, crawling under a rather large table.

"Oh, right. That's not the Best Spy's style, now is it?" Abby darkly chuckled. Rachel looked to the stage and growled when she saw it empty.

Damn it, the brat was throwing her voice around; classic Stealth Tactic Officer trick. One that Rachel's thicker Great Lakes accent prevented her from mastering, the blonde mused enviously.

"Save us the trouble, and come out, coward. Ya can't win; Numbuh 5 scored higher than you in the hide-n-seek simulations."

Rachel fumed and couldn't help but shout, "Only by one stinking point!"

She swore under her breath, as she rolled and sprinted towards the play area. Abby was goading her and it was working.

"And you wanna know what that point was in?"

Rachel ignored it as she crouched and waited. A few, tense minutes passed, and nothing happened. She breathed a bit easier, turning a corner assured she had evaded the girl—

"Seeking!"

A fist collided with Rachel's face, sending her reeling. She clenched her nose, trying to stanch the flow of blood.

Abby's voice sliced through the air like a whip crack, her words dripping with venom as she glared at Rachel. "That was for splitting up my team," she spat, the edges of her lips curling into a sneer. With a swift motion, her fist retracted, only to be replaced by the length of her staff. With precision, she pressed it against Rachel, pinning her in place like a trapped insect.

"And this," Abby seethed, her voice laced with the echoes of past humiliation, "is for stuffing me in a damn broom closet!" Her knee rocketed upward, meeting Rachel's abdomen with a force fueled by pent-up fury and resentment, each blow a testament to the weight of betrayal and mistreatment endured.

Rachel's breath hitched in her chest, each cough a painful reminder of the punishment inflicted upon her. Stumbling backward, she clutched her stomach, feeling the sting of Abby's relentless assault.

As Abby released her, Rachel's eyes widened in dread as she saw the menacing glint in her adversary's eyes. The flat end of the ONE-WAY sign descended with a harsh slap, sending Rachel reeling backward, the impact reverberating through her entire body.

"That was for betraying us!" Abby's hissed, each word heavy with accusation and hurt.

With a practiced motion, Abby twisted her staff into a throwing angle, the muscles in her arm tensing. With a swift flick of her wrist, she launched the pike towards Rachel, the air crackling with tension as it sailed through the space between them.

Rachel's vision blurred as she staggered, her senses reeling from the onslaught. Suddenly, she felt herself jerked off her feet, the rough texture of the jagged rock-climbing wall biting into her back as her spine protested in agony. With a dazed gaze, she looked up to see her orange jacket pinned against the unforgiving surface, a silent testament to the ferocity of Abby's attack.

A hand gripped her cheeks, forcing her gaze forward, locking eyes with Abby in a moment of surreal intensity. Abby's glare was searing, her contempt thick and heavy as she held Rachel's head in place, winding up her other fist with chilling determination. "And hell, this one is because Abby feels like it."

Rachel frowned before she made a slow guttural, raspy gagging sound. She then hocked a loogie, it landing against Abby's face with a sickening splat. Abby recoiled in disgust, and it was the opening Rachel needed as she jerked her head back before slamming it forward against Abby's.

Abby staggered, loosening her grip. Rachel leaned away from the pike and loosened her arms as she let her weight pull her from her jacket and onto the floor. She landed on her knees, bare in her white tank top, and fought back her headache as her fingers pressed against her breast.

With a groan, Abby wiped the vicious spit from her eyes. She regained her sight just in time to see Rachel rocketing towards her, now donned in modified Battle Ready Armor.

Snapping her wrist, Rachel grabbed Abby by the scruff of her neck and dragged her across the floor. Cutting off her jet pack, Rachel skidded across the rug of the play area, hefted Abby into the air, and reared back her fist to wail against the other girl's face.

The light glinted off the lens of a pair of heart-achingly familiar sunglasses, and Rachel hesitated.

It would be her undoing, as Abby quickly recovered, raising both her legs and kicking at Rachel's chest. The fugitive was thrown back, and Abby used the momentum to backflip over a nearby snack bar counter. She quickly scanned for an improvised weapon, then nearly gagged as her nose was hit with a waft of stinky cheese.

She looked under the countertop, flabbergasted to see an old, modified Tommy gun duct-taped to marble. The ammo-drum had been replaced with a finely aged Vieux-Boulogne cheese wheel and the box magazines were reminiscent of tiny graters.

Abby slowly arched a brow as she noted a faded employee note next to the weapon.

To Ted E. Bear Staff: Use only in case the fuzz gets "curious".

…Abby shrugged.

A few feet away, Rachel fell to the ground, cursing as she landed on her back—good lord, her spine was weeping right now. Through pain-squinted eyes, she noted her YIELD sign to her left. She grabbed it and used it to back onto her feet. As soon as she was vertical, Abby popped up from behind the counter and screamed as she unloaded a full clip of cheese slugs.

Rachel gritted her teeth, rapidly twirling her staff to deflect the hail of bullets. Confident in her stance, she slowly began advancing towards Abby.

Abby braced against the counter, aiming for any opening she could find, but Rachel's skill with her staff amplified by the tech of the BRA made it an impossible task. Gambling, when Rachel was upon her, she chucked the Tommy gun and leaped into the air.

Rachel batted away the gun, and her eyes snapped up. She spun the YIELD around, the boxing glove aiming up. She jerked it into the air, the glove catching Abby in the gut as she tried to sail over Rachel. Rachel roared as she forced Abby to the floor and began slamming the boxing fist down furiously.

Abby snaked and weaved around each impact, carefully positioning herself before rolling back onto her feet. She charged forth, going into a roundhouse kick. Rachel used the BRA's enhancements to side-step, then akin to a knight jousting, she thrust the blunt end of her staff forward and sent Abby up and over to crash behind a fallen set of tables.

Rachel huffed, one hand spinning her staff behind her back, while the other began charging the armor's laser gauntlet.

She gasped as the table exploded, and from the smoke and debris, Abby surged forth. She had equipped her own set of Battle Ready Armor, and Rachel's shock was enough for Abby to painfully trap both of her wrists and carry her into the air.

The two flew up above the pizzeria dining hall, Abby slamming Rachel against a giant, hanging pizza-cutter decoration. The impact knocked off years of dust, and the rusted, but still sharp blades glinted dangerously under the fluorescent lighting.

Rachel glared at Abby through her helmet's visor. The other girl returned it, hatefully crushing Rachel's gauntlets, rendering her lasers pointless. Rachel growled, then took in Abby's new appearance. Despite her similar attire, Rachel pointedly looked at Abby's BRA and spitefully snickered, "Aw, is that a hand-me-down from your sister?"

Under her visor, Abby's face twisted in disgust then caught her reflection against the cutter's metal. She gasped at what she saw—

It was days before her thirteenth birthday. The Grove was fresh on everyone's mind, but she had to keep going, she had to make sure her mistakes would be fixed.

Kuki had agreed to be TAGGED. The Kids Next Door would have a kinder leader—a better leader. One worthy of the title. The hope Kuki exemplified was enough to make Abby keep pushing. She had to keep going.

Yet, amidst her resolve to forge ahead, Abby couldn't escape the relentless barrage of her failures. She had faltered, unable to keep Sector V united in the face of adversity. The weight of the grove survivors' pain bore down on her, a constant reminder of the lives lost under her watch. As Supreme Leader, she had fallen short and let them all down.

Like she had let him down.

And when she thought she had hit her lowest point, the universe spat in her face as it sent Cree straight to her.

"Just stop resisting! Just stop fighting me!" Cree shouted over the coming storm. The clouds were dark, yet rain had yet to fall. Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing the tumult of emotions swirling between the two sisters.

Abby stood firm against Cree's relentless barrage of words and blows, a gust of wind whipped through the tree, causing the branches to sway and creak in protest. Leaves rustled, creating a whispering chorus that underscored the intensity of their confrontation - their final confrontation.

Cree's punches came faster now, fueled by frustration. With each strike, the air crackled with energy, the sound of impact mingling with the distant rumble of thunder. Abby dodged and weaved, her movements fluid yet purposeful, as she sought to evade Cree's wrath.

A stray bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the ravine below with a blinding flash. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, suspended in the eerie glow of the storm. In that fleeting instant, the sisters locked eyes, their gazes locked in a battle of wills amidst the chaos.

But Abby refused to back down. With a determined grit, she braced herself against Cree's attacks, her resolve unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds. Each blow landed with the force of a thunderclap, yet still, she stood tall, unwavering in her defiance.

"Don't you see it was all pointless?" Cree raged with every swing of her fist. Her voice was laden with anger and desperation. "None of it matters. None of it ever mattered! The Kids Next Door failed them—they failed all of US!"

Abby stood her ground, her fists clenched at her sides, her resolve steeling against her sister's onslaught. She refused to yield, especially to the darkness that threatened to engulf her like it did Cree.

"Why won't you just give up?" Cree's voice cracked with anguish, her eyes pleading for understanding even as her fists lashed out in exasperation. The bond between sisters, once unbreakable, was now strained under the weight of betrayal and resentment.

"B-Because," Abby struggled. Struggled under the pressure of Cree's assault and the weighing doubts in her mind. "Kids Next Door…never give up, you traitor!"

But Abby couldn't bring herself to surrender, not when everything she held dear hung in the balance. The echoes of her failures reverberated in her mind, fueling her defiance even as doubt gnawed at her resolve.

"Shut. UP! They'll give up on YOU!" Cree roared, voice raw with something Abby had never heard before. "Think about yourself for one damn second! I…I won't let them take you too! I won't! Just give up before it's too late. If not for yourself, then for me—PLEASE!"

"Numbuh 5 won't," Abby's voice was firm, her gaze unwavering as she met Cree's desperate stare. "Not even for you."

Cree looked ready to explode. "WHY!?

The tension between them crackled like electricity in the charged air, each moment stretching taut with the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears. In that fleeting instant, the chasm between them widened, an unbridgeable gap born of misunderstanding and regret.

As the storm clouds gathered overhead, threatening to unleash their fury upon the world below, Abby uttered words that would haunt her long after the rain had ceased to fall.

"BECAUSE I HATE YOU!"

—The memory struck Abby with the force of a sudden, sharp blow, leaving her reeling as she stared into the depths of her reflection. In the mirror, she saw not the youthful innocence of days past, but a visage warped by bitterness and resentment, lines etched deep with age beyond her years. She looked old and hateful.

She looked just like...

A surge of scalding anger coursed through Abby's veins. In a whirlwind of motion, she seized Rachel, her grip like iron as she twisted her adversary mid-air. With a ferocity born of pent-up rage, Abby's hand closed around the back of Rachel's helmet, the metal yielding beneath her fingers like soft clay. She then began pounding away, knocking Rachel's skull against solid metal until either it broke, or Rachel did.

Thud!

"You think you got jokes!?"

Thud!

"You think you're better than Abby!?"

Thud!

"You wanna see what a real traitor looks like!?"

CRACK!

With a shudder, Rachel's helmet gave way, revealing the face hidden beneath, the tangled locks of blonde hair cascading like a waterfall of shattered illusions.

Abby snarled as her nails dug into Rachel's scalp and slammed forward with unrelenting force. "Then LOOK!"

Rachel's face was squeezed against the metal as she looked—

It was days since she had been sworn in as Supreme Leader, and she couldn't help but feel this was all unnecessary.

"Honestly, guys, I appreciate it," Rachel said, looking more than a tad flustered. Sector L's make-up artist assailed her face with a powder puff and she sneezed. She followed up with a grimace before shooing the boy away. "But there's no need to make a big deal out of this."

"That is where you are wrong, my ever-so-humble new Supreme Leader," Numbuh 10 cooed, putting extra emphasis on her new title with a wiggle of her brows. "This is a day that will go down in kid infamy! Except it's the exact opposite of infamy—we're gonna make you, er, famy! Famous! You're the new face of kids and operatives worldwide, and I won't rest until they all see you in the glamourous spotlight like you deserve." The redhead paused, then glared. "But don't get ahead yourself. Prettiest Operative still goes to moi, got it?"

"Wouldn't dream of stealing your thunder, Numbuh 10," Rachel said with an eye-roll. Her gaze landed on the mirror, and she blushed at the obsessive contours and lip balm. "I don't know about this make-up though…"

Numbuh 10 scratched her chin before slapping her forehead. "Gosh, you are so right!"

Rachel let out a breath of relief.

"This foundation isn't doing your complexion justice, what were my guys thinking? We're gonna have to start from scratch."

Rachel tensed and began to quietly whine.

"You get all comfy while I give the make-up crew a little constructive criticism," Numbuh 10 said with a flirtatious wink. Her face turned to a scowl as she whipped out her flip phone and began yelling into it. "Numbuh 9-Film! I want the make-up crew fired, ASA-NOW! I will not have them embarrass me in front of the new…wait, huh? What do you mean they're union!?"

Rachel sunk into her chair as Numbuh Ten wandered off, no doubt cooking up new girlish make-up tortures for her to endure. A pat on her shoulder caused her to look up and see a pleasant, familiar face.

Patton gave a polite smile as his hands folded behind his back. "Seems like Numbuh 10 has made you her new pet project, sir. My condolences."

Rachel returned his smile and joked, "Is it too late to TAG someone else in?"

"Eh, don't stress it. I'll get her out of your hair."

"Didn't know you were so keen to take on suicide missions, Numbuh 60."

"You underestimate me, sir. I know how to handle ol' Georgy." Patton squared his features, but she noticed the buddings of a smirk as he sauntered off towards sector L's leader. "Well, if it isn't Georgette. Thought you'd be too afraid of zero gravity messing up your hair to be up here moon-side."

Numbuh Ten stopped whatever tirade she was on as she noted Patton. She immediately hung up her phone, previous affairs were forgotten as a devious smile formed on her lips at the sight of the boy. "Patton, my favorite walking tabloid waiting to be slandered."

Rachel raised a brow as they started arguing, her spy training picking up a crud-ton of unspoken subtext. She had no idea the leader of sector L and the Arctic Commander were so familiar with each other.

A moist, yet warm, toilette gently wiping at her face tore her thoughts away from the two arguing leaders. Fanny's tongue jutted from her lips as she carefully washed away the excessive blush coating Rachel's cheeks. "Geez, I told that fussy Numbuh 10 not to hound ye, lass. I know ya hate getting all dolled up."

Despite being grateful her face was no longer itchy, Rachel shook her head. "I'm sure she means well."

"Bah! Ye look good jus' as ye are, sir!" Fanny said, a twinkle in her eye as she took in the blonde. Her lips wobbled as she went into a proud salute. "It's an honor to call ye my Supreme Leader, Rachel."

Rachel shuffled in her chair, smiling yet flustered under such earnest praise. "Honestly, Fanny. It's…it's just another promotion, right?"

"Another promotion, she says. Now that's gas! It's way more important than that, lass!"

"I must concur," a new voice said stepping up.

The two girls looked to see Numbuh Infinity walking up. The diplomat greeted them with a neutral smile. "Fulfilling the role of Supreme Leader is a monumental undertaking." He then extended his hand towards Rachel while the other went into a salute. "But I have faith you will lead the Kids Next Door to a better, peaceful future, sir."

After dealing with brash, excitable kids her whole career, having someone as calm and well-spoken as Numbuh Infinity stroll into her life was like being tossed into a Tilt-a-Whirl at full speed. Despite his official role as a mediator, the boy was an enigma, even to her who had worked in Covert Operations.

She firmly grasped his hand, shaking it with a respectful smile. "Thank you, Numbuh Infinity. I look forward to working with you in a more official capacity now."

"As do I. Speaking of, Numbuh 86? Might I ask you to assist Numbuh 60 in keeping Numbuh 10…er, entertained?" he asked as he skeptically looked over to see Patton and Numbuh Ten's discussion devolving into childish antics as the former stole the latter's beanie. Numbuh Ten booked it, laughing as Patton fumed and chased after her.

Infinity coughed into his hand. That was not his problem right now. "There are important things I wish to discuss with the Supreme Leader."

Fanny growled. "I ain't taking no orders from a boy!"

"Numbuh 86…" a certain blonde warned.

At Rachel's tone, Fanny squeamishly smiled and then dismissed herself. Rachel sighed, then hopped from her chair and motioned for Infinity to take the lead.

As he guided her through the halls of the Moonbase, Rachel couldn't help but be humbled by the weight of it all. The Moonbase, once just a base of operations, was now her base of operations; her new home. This huge organization now rested upon her shoulders. All those kids and operatives were now her kids.

She would protect them all.

"I have no doubt you will," Infinity said. She looked at him, surprised, and he smirked. Did…did he know how to read minds? "No, but you're not the first Supreme Leader I've worked with." He smiled ahead, fondly. "You tend to notice similar trends."

Rachel's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Suddenly, she had a hard time remembering exactly when Numbuh Infinity joined the Kids Next Door. "And just how many Supreme Leaders have you 'worked' with, Numbuh Infinity?"

His sunglasses glinted under the passing lights as he continued to smile. "At least one."

"Why do I feel like you're treating me like a joke, operative?"

"Ah, because it appears I'm rusty at this," he confessed, earnestly. He composed himself before saying, "I apologize for the teasing, sir. I don't think you're a joke. Quite…the opposite." If it wasn't for her years of covert operations experience, she would have never picked up on the slight wonder that spiced his words. "Someone who wanted to become Supreme Leader…I find that…inspiring."

Rachel raised a brow. "I could be power-hungry."

"And I could be an alien," he said sarcastically. "Give me some credit, sir. I could see a future despot coming from a gazillion miles away. You took on the job not for the glory, but for the betterment of us all. And so quickly. It took weeks of convincing on Numbuh 100's part to get Numbuh 274 to agree."

Thoughts of Chad tried to rise from the depths of her mind, but she did not want to engage in that hurt today. No, she would much rather lose herself in the memory of the one who stood beside her as she made an important step in her career. She smiled wistfully, her thoughts drifting to the inevitable mischief Numbuh One was undoubtedly stirring up. "I was lucky to have someone to believe in me," she mused, a hint of nostalgia coloring her words.

"And now, it's not just one." Infinity's response hung heavy in the air, each word weighted with significance as he came to a halt. His gaze shifted towards the window, a silent invitation to behold what lay beyond.

Rachel's breath caught in her throat as she stepped closer, her eyes widening in wonder at the breathtaking sight before her. The swirling hues of white and blue danced across the expanse of space, painting a portrait of Earth that transcended mere beauty. Despite her countless hours spent on the Moonbase, she couldn't recall ever witnessing such a magnificent view of the planet they all called home.

"Every kid down there, whether they know it or not, now looks to you for leadership. For hope," Infinity said, his sunglasses hiding a faraway look. "With every order you issue, countless lives hang in the balance."

Rachel grimaced. "No pressure, right?"

"All the pressure, actually. There are a lot of hardships that come with this responsibility. Countless burdens one has to bear to ensure there remains a future worth fighting for," he said. "Many heartbreaking choices to make with the wish that one day, the dream of everyone just…hugging and playing nice can become reality. That the fighting can end."

Rachel gazed down at the Earth, eyes laden with countless emotions. "…but does it ever truly end?"

Infinity was quiet. Then, "I don't know. And the path to answer is a long and hard one." He then looked at her. "Last chance to walk away."

Rachel smirked. "I didn't come this far to give up now. Those kids need someone to look after them."

"That they do," Infinity said with a smile, one that she, thanks to her years of covert operations training, could tell was genuine. He suddenly clapped his hands. "Now for the fun part!"

She was taken aback by his enthusiasm. A few tense moments passed where nothing happened, and she looked around, wondering if she missed something.

Infinity's smile twitched. "I said, now for the fun part."

Rachel blinked, swaying to and fro as a pudgy hamster rolled by between them in its exercise ball.

"…oh, for the love of—DAVE! WE PRACTICED THIS!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Out from one of the nearby doors appeared a discomposed and out-of-breath Numbuh Seventy-Four-point-Two-Three-Nine. He clenched a shiny-looking case that was about twice his size, and he panted as he took a stance next to Numbuh Infinity. "I was having an in-depth discussion with Numbuh 75 about the fourth Doctor Time-Space Holiday Special. He claims the Doctor's regurgitation was halted by the march of Easter Island Head robots, can you believe it? Everyone knows that, according to the re-released 2002 director's cut, the regurgitation was halted because—"

"Dave," Infinity grumbled with a snap of his fingers. "I can't believe you almost missed this important passing-of-the-torch kind of moment because you were discussing some nerdy science fiction show!"

"Yeah, Numbuh 74.239," Rachel butted in, hands on her hips. Infinity smiled, thankful he wasn't the only one here who respected what was about to— "I can't believe you almost spoiled the special for me! Be more considerate!"

"Well I—wait, you watch Doctor Time-Space?" the scientist asked, gobsmacked. At Rachel's excited nod, he grinned as his eyes beamed. "Oh, you and I are going to get along swimmingly, sir!"

Infinity felt on the verge of frustration-induced aneurysm as he ripped the case away from Dave, his glare piercing through the ginger-haired tech-whiz who stood before him, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a grumble, Infinity adjusted his tie, the gesture a futile attempt to regain composure as he turned his attention to Rachel.

"Anyway, if you're going to protect our operatives, then you'll need to be well-armed," he declared, his tone firm as he deftly undid the clasps of the case, revealing the staff nestled inside. "Numbuh 2x4 was quite proud of this one."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat as she reached out with reverence, her fingers curling around the familiar shape of the YIELD sign. To hold a certified ROADSIGN class weapon in her hands was more than just a privilege—it was a sign of her commitment as a true Supreme Leader. With a sense of burning resolve, she allowed the weight of responsibility to settle upon her shoulders as she swished and swung the staff, testing its balance and heft.

"I don't know what to say," Rachel admitted, her voice tinged with awe.

"Just say you'll use it more than Numbuh 274 used his," Infinity quipped, a hint of playful reproach lacing his words. "It's more than a weapon; it's a symbol, a guiding beacon to operatives worldwide."

Dave chimed in eagerly, his finger jabbing at the air as he added, "And thanks to my patented calibrations, the whooshing sound it makes when you swing it should be 8.5 percent more satisfying when kicking evil adult tuchis!"

Infinity shot Dave a pointed look, gently lowering his hand before turning back to Rachel with a serious expression. "Numbuh 362, do you solemnly swear to use your ROADSIGN faithfully? Only and always in the just defense of the kids of Earth?"

Rachel slammed her YIELD staff down with a resounding thud before proudly declaring, "I swear. Now, and forever."

A warm smile spread across Infinity's face as he regarded Rachel. "Forever?"

Rachel met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Forever and ever."

—each slam of her face against the unforgiving steel just made the memory more prominent, more real. Abby gave her no quarter, no chance to look away. As her battered mug was slammed against the cutter's surface again, Rachel recalled her oath as she locked eyes with the girl staring straight back at her.

She refused to answer why her reflection was someone she didn't know.

She blamed Abby's beating as the reason her hand gave a burning twitch as she let her YIELD sign drop below.

Noting Rachel had lost grip of her staff, Abby pounded the girl's face against the cutter one last, violent time. The oversized ornament groaned, some of the bearings snapping free and the strings keeping it aloft stretching to their limit. Abby ignored them and instead threw Rachel to the ground. With a scream, she overcharged her gauntlets and rained down a volley of laser fire on the falling girl.

Rachel fell, dazed, but a stray laser grazed and burned her cheek, snapping her back into focus. She kicked on her jets, letting instinct take over she soared through the air. Abby continued shooting, catching one of Rachel's boosters and sending her crash-landing into the floor. She recovered with a tuck and roll, and her eyes darted around desperately before landing on Abby's discarded weapon from earlier.

When the airborne teen went to recharge her lasers, Rachel grasped the Tommy cheese gun and fired blindly from the hip. The gooey bullets missed Abby but shot and burnt through one of the two strings holding up the large cutter. The ornament shifted, knocking Abby off-kilter. Now out of cheese and with no other choice, Rachel pressed against her breast once more, and her armor flickered as she was enveloped in a reflective camouflage shield.

Abby growled, shaking her head and looking for Rachel. Seeing she had disappeared again, she fumed, then rocketed downward. She went to the wall, yanking her ONE-WAY staff free before engaging her own stealth field and pulling a device from her pocket.

The air in the pizzeria grew heavy with anticipation as they tiptoed into yet another nerve-wracking round of hide-and-seek. Rachel, her heart pounding, scrambled up onto the stage, darting between the towering animatronics in search of sanctuary. Amidst the clatter and whirr of the mechanical beasts, she sought a moment's respite to gather her thoughts.

"N-O M-A-F-I-A, oh baby!"

Her breath caught in her throat as the stage lights flickered to life. In an instant, the once-static figures sprang into motion, and the band erupted into a cacophony of jazzy tunes.

"Welcome, welcome, generous friends! Days and weeks and tokens to spend!" sang the tuxedo-clad bear animatronics, their jovial façades momentarily faltering as they added with an unsettling solemnity, "We're just REGULAR BUSINESS MEN."

Rachel blinked, a chill creeping down her spine.

But just as quickly, the bears returned to their cheerful demeanor, crooning, "Just you, and me, and Ted E. Bear!"

With cautious steps, Rachel navigated the stage, dodging and weaving around the now-animate figures performing for an invisible audience of phantoms. As she pondered what could have activated these dormant machines, a creak from the floorboards behind her jolted her senses.

Abby found her already!?

"Ted E. Bear's is oodles of fun! Pizza, sandwiches, poker, and guns!"

Rachel went prone on the floor as something whooshed where her head used to be. She gingerly rolled to the side to put distance between her and her unseen assailant.

"And look, NO MOBSTERS! NARY A ONE! … Just you, and me, and Ted E. Bear!"

Every time Rachel thought she had evaded Abby, the girl was right there. It was driving her nuts! Abby was good, but not this good. How in the hell did she seem to predict her every move—know exactly where she was?

"J. Edgar Hoover always insists: ORGANIZED CRIME JUST DOESN'T EXIST!"

Stuffing down her panic, Rachel took a calming breath as she stood, back-to-back with the lead-singer bear, the robot continuing to sing blissfully ignorant of danger. An idea formed as she closed her eyes. The music was an obvious distraction, so she pushed it out of her mind. Time slowed with each breath she took, and she recalled years of training, years of experience as she waited and listened.

"Q.E.D. they're not in our midst!"

…whoosh…

"Say Edgar, me, and Ted E – ZZZTZZ!"

Rachel ducked as something took the singer's head clean off. Her hand snapped up, grabbing the length of a staff, and jerked it down. She opened her eyes, her other hand going up and pressing against a figure she could faintly make out.

Abby blinked as Rachel turned off her BRA, now back in her civilian attire and no longer invisible. Before she could process it, Rachel rammed her shoulder into Abby's gut, then grunted as she tossed her off the stage. Rachel re-activated her stealth field and leaped off the stage after the instead of running away, Rachel stayed close, crawling under a table not even a foot away from Abby as she quieted herself and waited.

Abby got up from the ground, grumbling under her breath. She took a look around before unknowingly rolling under the same table Rachel occupied.

Rachel went deathly still as Abby lay on the opposite side of her. While she still had her armor up, Abby was still armed offensively and had some secret ace in the hole. She couldn't make a move until she figured out what it was.

Her eyes then widened as Abby went into her pocket and pulled out the KNDNA Tracker.

Suddenly, Nigel's pit stop at the Seriously Cool Museum of Artifacts and Stuff made a lot of sense.

"What the hell?" Abby's whisper tore her from her musings. The dark-haired girl looked at the screen with disbelief. "This can't be right. It says she's right beside…"

Suddenly, Abby snapped her gaze to her left, eyes making contact with Rachel's just as the latter's stealth field battery fizzled out.

Rachel's gaze flickered to the tracker, a silent challenge passing between her and Abby. With a wry smirk, she leveled the accusation, "Cheater."

And just like that, chaos erupted. The two girls lunged at each other, their movements a frenzied blur of limbs. Abby planted her feet firmly, unleashing a barrage of kicks aimed at Rachel, each one a testament to her will to maintain control. Meanwhile, Rachel countered with swift punches and slaps, her fingers inching closer to the coveted tracker with every blow.

The struggle escalated, their actions resembling a playground scuffle more than a battle between operatives. Hair was pulled, nails scratched, and spit was slung as they fought tooth and nail for dominance. The tracker became the ultimate prize, the object of their desires driving them to increasingly desperate measures.

Amidst the discord, Rachel seized a fleeting opportunity, her hand closing around the tracker with a triumphant grin. With a mocking laugh, she held it aloft, taunting Abby with her victory.

"Better luck next time, Abby," Rachel jeered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Your little toy is mine!"

"Have fun with it, sucka!"

Rachel blinked in confusion as Abby suddenly bolted, scrambling for cover behind the snack bar. With a furrowed brow, Rachel glanced up at the tracker in her hand, her curiosity piqued by something she noticed on its back.

There, affixed to the device with super glue, were three MARBLEs wired to a charge. Etched onto their glass surfaces were the numbers 'Three,' 'Six,' and 'Two,' a mocking reminder of Abby's clever deception.

Beneath them, a sticky note bore a simple yet ominous message: Gotcha, bitch.

As realization dawned, Rachel's blood ran cold. She glanced up just in time to see Abby's hand rise from behind the counter, a detonator clutched tightly in her grip.

"Oh, fuck me."

And then, it all went boom.

---

With a twist of the faucet, water poured easily into the empty plastic cup. Once full, it was lifted to parched lips. Greedy gulps emptied the contents, and Nigel smacked his lips together as he tossed the cup into the waste bin. He stared at himself in the mirror, heavy bags under his eyes as coal-blue pupils gazed back listlessly.

He sighed, twisting the faucet again and letting the cool tap water pool in his hands. He slapped it against his face, the chill zapping away at some of his exhaustion. The boy dried his face and turned to leave the bathroom.

Sleep hardly ever came easy to him, even with his body pushed beyond its limits. He'd admit, however, that Mrs. Gilligan's home cooking had him out for about an hour longer than normal. But an extra hour was all his subconscious mind would allow before it battered him with nightmares, doubts, and degrading what-ifs that forced him back into the waking world.

Nigel pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a steadying breath. He glanced at the window, somewhat comforted to see night still blanketed the neighborhood. He checked his watch, making a humming sound.

There was still time before morning.

His hand rested on the ajar door to the guest room where he and Abby rested. He looked at the floor, mind whirring as he wrestled with the standard thoughts; the next objective, the fate of the entire Kids Next Door, and the girl waiting for his answer.

Nigel gathered himself, mind made up. Trying to disturb Abby while she was sleeping was a fate far worse than death, but he would not have her lashing out at him for not at least attempting to try and get her to head out with him.

"Abby, I know it's not ideal, but I figure it's now or never," he said, quiet enough to be considerate of others slumbering in the household, but hopefully loud enough to stir his sleeping companion. "Rachel will only wait until dawn, so if I go now, I might be able to…Abby?"

The king-size bed was empty, a stark realization that pierced through Nigel's sleep-induced haze. Fear gripped him as he scanned the room, hoping against hope that Abby was just elsewhere in the house.

But as his hand brushed over the cold sheets, his suspicions were confirmed: Abby was gone.

Nigel's eyes fell on her carrier bag, filled with supplies and gadgets they had prepared for their mission. He hesitated, his feet rooted to the spot as he struggled to come to terms with the reality of Abby's absence. With a shaky breath, he forced himself to move forward, his hands trembling as he rifled through the bag.

His heart sank as he realized the KNDNA Tracker was missing.

"No," he muttered, desperation creeping into his voice as he frantically searched his pockets for the vial containing Rachel's hair. When he came up empty-handed, panic seized him in its icy grip. "No, no, no!"

Without hesitation, Nigel bolted from the room, sprinting down the hall and bursting into Tommy's room. He shook the boy's shoulder frantically, urgency coloring his voice. "Tommy! Tommy, wake up! It's an emergency!"

But Tommy remained blissfully unaware, lost in the depths of sleep. Nigel's frustration mounted as he realized he was wasting precious time. He knew it was too dangerous to bring Tommy along anyway, not when Abby had gone after Rachel alone.

"Damn it, Abby," Nigel cursed as he exited Tommy's room. He slid down the railing of the stairs, launching himself towards the kitchen and scrambling out the garage door. "You said we'd do this together!"

His fist slammed into the panel, the garage door slowly opening as he leaped and saddled himself on the Cruisemaster. His fingers flipped numerous switches and turned various dials. Hoagie had let him test drive the thing years ago, surely not much had changed since—

"Biometrics not identified." He jumped as a robotic voice scolded him. He looked down at the control screen, a red frowny face glaring up at him. "You are not Tommy."

Nigel spluttered before slamming his fist down. "Listen here, you hand-me-down piece of junk, my friends are in danger! So you better get with the program and take me to—"

"YOU ARE NOT TOMMY!"

A boxing fist sprang from the glove compartment and sucker-punched him into the back wall. Nigel held his face, seething in part pain and part frustration as the Cruisemaster erected a sparkling energy force field to ward off any further attempts at grand theft bicycle.

"Bollocks! What is it with this family and their crazy sentient…" Nigel's tirade withered out as an idea popped into his head. He hastily got to his feet and went to the opposite end of the garage.

The pink Hoagiemobile snoozed peacefully in his fluffy bed. A gentle tap on its handlebars roused it from its slumber, and if it had eyes, they would be looking up drowsily and confused at the bald teenager who had awoken it.

"Um, sorry to bother you," Nigel began easily, frame tense with anxiety. "But my friend Abby…I'm afraid she's gone off to do something stupid. If I don't get to her in time…"

The tricycle tilted its front wheel worriedly as the boy in front of it began to shrink in on himself.

"Please," he begged. "I need your help."

Resolve surged through the Hoagiemobile's frame as its bell gave a rallying ding-ding!

---

A colony of cats slept peacefully in the desolate parking lot of the abandoned Ted E. Bear's Mafia Free Funland and Pizzeria—where there wasn't, nor ever has been, any illicit mafia activity; you have no evidence, snitch.

The animals' slumber was loudly disturbed as an explosion originated from the building, a yellow condiment mushroom cloud blowing a hole in the roof. The cats scattered, wanting nothing to do with whatever caused the commotion.

If the staff of the pizzeria were still employed, they would assure you that they are one-hundred-and-ten percent positive the explosion had nothing to do with the Mozzarella Crime Family and certainly could not be used to incriminate them. "It's a government conspiracy!" they would tell ya.

Near the epicenter of the blast, a cocoon of dark armor slowly crumbled away revealing a worn and battered Rachel behind it. The plating of her Battle Ready Armor collapsed around her feet, and whatever was left of the insulation retracted inwards as the equipment finally reached its limit. She was left in her stained tank top and ruffled jeans, hair askew and body exuding exhaustion from every pore.

Rachel took a stumbling step forward, followed by another. She inhaled, coughing as she navigated the smoky haze of spicy mustard that lingered in the air. Her last-ditch defense with her armor saved her from the brunt of the explosion, but as her vision blurred, it was hard to claim her survival as a victory. Not with Abby still lurking somewhere.

The girl teetered forward, limbs like jelly as she tried and failed to walk in a straight line. She gritted her teeth, pure spite fueling her every motion. Her sneakers collided with something, and she groaned as she hit the ground with a thud.

Her face turned on its side, glancing down at what tripped her up. Next to her was her discarded YIELD sign, scarred, bits chipped off, yet still in one piece overall. For a moment the rest of the world faded away as she stared at the staff with a lost look in her gaze.

To any normal bystander, it was a crude, yet effective weapon. Entire treehouse armories outclassed it by strides, but she knew better, it was much more than that. A ROADSIGN staff wasn't just a tool, it was a symbol.

Despite herself, her hand reached gingerly for it…

"Numbuh 362, do you solemnly swear to use your ROADSIGN faithfully? Only and always in the just defense of the kids of Earth?"

Rachel slammed her YIELD staff down with a resounding thud before proudly declaring, "I swear. Now, and forever."

A warm smile spread across Infinity's face as he regarded Rachel. "Forever?"

Rachel met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Forever and ever."

…her hand stopped short of the staff and fell to the ground with a thud.

Rachel's eyes clenched shut, choking down a vomit of emotions building in her core. "I'm so tired."

She heard the crunches of footfalls as someone stepped closer. She hissed as the weight of a sneaker eased onto her back.

The shiink of a pike diving into the ground next to her face made her open her eyes and glare at her successor.

Abby glowered down at Rachel, the lens of the sunglasses reflecting the moonlight. "Don't worry, plenty of time for sleep where you're going."

Rachel scoffed at Abby's tone. "Disappointed?"

"Only if you let a set of low-grade MARBLEs take you out that easily," Abby huffed as she leaned down onto her knee, her foot pinning the fugitive to the floor. "Shame to lose the tracker, but worth it to finally put you down."

Rachel looked away from Abby, her gaze going to the hole in the ceiling and gazing up at the crescent moon. "I don't suppose this makes us even for the broom closet…"

Abby snarled. "Am I a joke to you?"

The girl under her humorlessly laughed. "Only if you think this changes anything."

"Guess delusional is another thing Abby can call ya. Face facts, Rachel; it's over."

"It'll never be over. Doesn't matter if you stop me here. Eventually, there will be another 'traitor' to take my place," Rachel said, voice hollow and even. Her eyes went to look at Abby. Once again, she saw it: the embodiment of everything that hollowed out Rachel and left her husk to rot. Hate sparked behind her eyes as she seethed. "And there will be other loyal little sheep like you to hunt them down without question. The cycle continues and the suffering never ends. Face it, Numbuh 5; in the end, you're no better than me."

Abby's frame shook, quivering with anger. After everything Rachel had done, she had the gall to criticize her!? "You really have lost your damn mind. I'm nothing like you. I didn't stomp on my friends to get where I am. I didn't turn my back on every operative who ever counted on me to protect them. I didn't betray them all like you did!"

"No. You did something worse," Rachel said with a sneer, "you just sat back and did nothing."

Abby's stomach churned at Rachel's words. The raw intensity behind the accusation gave her pause. "What nonsense are you yapping on about—"

"Cree Lincoln." That one name was all it took to silence Abby. Tears welled behind Rachel's eyes as she continued. "You sat back and just let a monster live under your roof. One of the greatest dangers to kids at large slept soundly across the hall from you and you didn't lift a finger! Cree was a ticking time bomb and you didn't care who she took with her when she finally went off!"

Abby couldn't believe it. Her mind curled in hot rage at Rachel's audacity to casually throw her sister's sins in her face.

How dare she.

How dare she!

Abby's grip around her ONE-WAY staff tightened, knuckles white as she tried to control her breathing. "Abby…is…sorry Cree killed your hamster, but that doesn't—"

"You think this is just about Bon-Bon!? How many of my kids did she hospitalize, Abby? How many lives did she endanger for her petty vengeance, Abby? How many operatives did she send to Father on a silver platter, Abby!? How many had to suffer because you wouldn't let your sister face real justice, Abby!?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" Abby roared back as she pressed her foot deeper into Rachel's spine. She was heaving as she glared down at Rachel. "How many kids did you hurt when you went ballistic, Rachel? How many lives are you gonna put up as collateral for your lil crusade, Rachel!? How many more times are you gonna lie to Nigel before you break him and sell him out to his Uncle, Rachel!?"

The tension crackled in the air, each word a weapon in their verbal lashing. Rachel's breath hitched as Abby's foot pressed down harder on her back, the weight of their animosity crushing her beneath its intensity.

"You think you're some kind of savior, Rachel? You're nothing but a self-righteous hypocrite!" Abby spat, her voice dripping with venom as she leaned closer, her face contorted with rage. "You talk about justice, but all you do is shun those who wanna help you and hurt the people you love!"

Rachel's eyes blazed with defiance, her resolve unyielding despite the pressure bearing down on her. "At least I'm not afraid to stand up for what's right! You're so blinded by your delusions of grandeur that you can't see the damage you've enabled!"

Abby's grip on her ONE-WAY staff tightened, the metal creaking ominously in her clenched fists. "Fine! Sure, I made mistakes. But at least I had the guts to face them! You? You just hide behind your lies and manipulation, pretending to be some kind of martyr while you destroy everything you touch!"

Rachel's chest heaved with emotion, her voice barely above a whisper as she fought to maintain her composure. "You don't know anything about me, Abby. You don't know the sacrifices I've made or the pain I've endured. All you see is what you want to see!"

"You want to know what I see, Rachel?" Abby hissed as she got down to the blonde's ear. Something deep in her gave a sinister lurch as she tauntingly said, "I see where your brother got his issues from."

Rachel froze.

"I mean, a nut job like that doesn't just appear out of thin air," Abby went on, mocking the girl with a dark grin. "Nah, poor fool had to go and follow big sis's example, huh?"

Rachel's eye twitched. "Shut up."

But Abby wasn't finished. "I feel sorry for him; remembered as the nepo-baby who whined 'til he got what he wanted, just like his big sister."

Rachel's vision blurred with rage, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as Abby's words echoed in her ears. "I said shut up!"

Abby's smirk widened, fueled by the satisfaction of getting under Rachel's skin. "What's the matter, Rachel? Can't handle the truth? Or are you just afraid to face the fact that you never had to work for anything in your life?"

Rachel as she struggled to keep her temper in check. But the pressure was building, the anger bubbling beneath the surface threatening to erupt.

"Numbuh 100. Numbuh 274. Patton. Fanny. Even Nigel," Abby said as her face went stoic. "They all went and coddled 'Little Miss Perfect Three-Sixty-Two', but I sure as hell won't! No, I'm gonna give it to ya straight and call it like it is. And you wanna know what it is, girl?"

Rachel's face contorted with fury.

"What it is…is that you're not doing this for us. No, you're just doing it for yourself. Because you're just a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum," Abby hissed, resentment clouding her vision. "Just like Harvey!"

The air in the room went cold.

"…get off me."

The vicious whisper snapped Abby from her rage, and she looked down at the girl, uneasy. "Wha—"

"Get."

Rachel's nails tore into the floor.

"OFF."

Her pupils dilated as she saw a sea of red.

"ME!"

With a primal scream that shook the foundation of the building, Rachel threw Abby off of her.

Adrenaline energized her battered body, and she turned and unleashed all her fury on Abby. Every blow was fueled by years of anguish and loss. At that moment, she was no longer the composed and controlled fugitive; she was a force of nature, a whirlwind of rage and despair.

As she pummeled Abby with relentless ferocity, her voice rang out with a chilling cadence that reverberated in the air like an explosion.

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Rachel screamed as she tossed the other girl around. "You don't know how I pushed myself just to prove I belonged! You don't know how everyone's eyes were on me; how could you!?"

Abby spun around in a daze. Rachel snapped behind her, slamming her fist deep into her side.

"You were Numbuh 11's kid sister! You were sector V's second-in-command! You got the easy ride while everyone else shouldered the weight for you! You got to stay with your team! You got to keep all your friends! You even got to keep your stupid sister!"

With every strike, Rachel's anger surged like a tidal wave, consuming everything in its path. In that moment, she was unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with. And as Abby crumpled beneath her onslaught, Rachel knew that she would never be the same again.

But that didn't stop her. It couldn't stop her.

She had to keep burning it at both ends until nothing of her was left.

Angry tears streamed down her face as she gripped Abby's shirt. "I had to leave my team behind to keep the Moonbase running. I had to put my name on the line to give my brother a chance you all took for granted. I had to put barriers between my friends to keep them safe—to keep all of you safe! And when I failed to do that? I didn't even get to mourn them, I had to be strong and somehow tell their loved ones they were never coming home. You were a Supreme Leader! YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD UNDERSTAND!"

Rachel threw Abby unceremoniously to the side. She watched the girl fall to the ground, and her eyes went wild and her fingers twitched as she reached out to grab something. Anything.

"But why would you? Numbuh 5 is so cool, and is just better than me!" her voice dripped with sarcastic venom as she grabbed a chair and angrily swung it around. "Numbuh 5 has Moonbase Zero running silky smooth. Numbuh 5 has a great work-life balance! Numbuh 5 can manage to pull all her kids from a disaster without shunning her friends, without ignoring her brother, and without being stupid and letting the only one who ever cared just walk out of her life!"

Rachel tossed the chair, not caring where it went. It sailed through the air, impacting the giant pizza cutter ornament above. The hit caused the decoration to shake, and the final string keeping it airborne started coming undone.

Abby groaned as she got to her feet, managing to find and re-equip her staff. She had no time to get her bearings as she looked up to see a rabid Rachel descending upon her, throwing a sharp piece of glass her way. Her eyes widened in surprise as she instinctively raised her arms to shield herself. The blade grazed her shoulder, drawing blood, but she managed to deflect the worst of the blow.

Enraged, Abby charged forward, her ONE-WAY pike swinging in a deadly arc as she sought to end the fight once and for all.

But Rachel was ready. With a quick movement, she dodged Abby's attack and delivered a swift kick to her opponent's knee, sending her stumbling backward.

Seizing the opportunity, Rachel lunged forward and delivered a series of rapid blows to Abby's chest and abdomen, each one fueled by years of pent-up frustration.

With a final, decisive strike, Rachel knocked Abby's weapon from her hands and sent her sprawling to the ground, defeated.

As the dust settled and the echoes of their battle faded away, Rachel stood, her chest heaving with exertion.

Something off to the side caught her eye. She found herself drawn to it, ignoring the groaning Abby as she walked and knelt on the floor. Rachel reached down and found herself holding a pair of sunglasses that must have gotten knocked off Abby in the fray.

Nigel's old sunglasses.

For a moment, she just stared at them. Through their lens, she saw her reflection once more. The reflection of a broken girl she couldn't recognize anymore. Painful memories surged to the forefront of her mind as her expression morphed into a spiteful sneer.

She was so tempted to crush the stupid things.

Crush and stomp on them.

Rachel steadied herself against the table. Then, with a yell, she clenched the sunglasses, raised the hand holding them to the sky, then violently brought it down to destroy them once and for all.

But she didn't.

Her hand trembled as she let the sunglasses clatter harmlessly on the table.

She couldn't.

"It's not fair," Rachel cried as she fell against the table. Her shoulders were wracked with sobs as she desperately clung to the old pair of shades. "It's not fair…"

Abby watched from her position on the floor, her body aching and her mind reeling from the intensity of the beating she endured.

In that moment of clarity, as the adrenaline of battle ebbed away, Abby's thoughts turned inward. She reflected on the cruelty of her words, the pain she had inflicted upon Rachel, and the deep-seated resentment that had fueled her actions.

Guilt washed over her like a wave, overwhelming her senses as she realized the extent of the damage she had caused. The realization hit her with the force of a freight train, leaving her breathless and shaken to the core.

She had come here to stop Rachel. She had come here to end the madness and stop the suffering.

Yet, it seemed she only succeeded in keeping it alive and well-fed.

This is all your fault.

As Abby watched Rachel, her heart ached with regret. Because this was her fault, wasn't it? Her fault for thinking she knew better. Her fault for thinking she was above it all. Her entire career, Numbuh Five was the cool, calm, and collected voice of reason. Always there to show kids the error of their ways and help them see the light that existed in themselves.

But she got old.

She got bitter.

And along the way, she unknowingly let her own light fade away as she let them all down one by one.

Wally.

Kuki.

Nigel.

Hoagie.

All your fault.

Abby wanted to reach out, to apologize, to beg for forgiveness. But the weight of her actions kept her rooted to the spot, paralyzed by her shame and self-loathing.

And then, in a cruel twist of fate, Abby's gaze shifted upward, drawn to the looming threat above her. The deadly saw-like pizza cutter ornament teetered precariously on its perch, its sharp blades glinting in the dim light.

For a fleeting moment, Abby's mind raced with thoughts of her mortality.

All your fault.

She knew she deserved whatever fate awaited her, and knew she had brought this upon herself with her reckless actions.

All your fault.

The string of the cutter broke.

Closing her eyes, Abby accepted her fate with a resigned sigh, bracing herself for the inevitable impact. In that moment of surrender, she found a strange sense of peace, a fleeting glimpse of redemption amidst the chaos and turmoil that had consumed her.

All your fault.

And as the deadly ornament fell from above, Abby's world faded to black, consumed by the weight of her regret.

There was a crash as the cutter buried itself into the floor.

Abby's eyes snapped open as her body was jostled and dropped.

She snapped up, looking down to see herself whole and intact.

Abby then looked over, seeing Rachel screaming in pain as she clutched her arm that had been slashed against the cutter…

…the cutter she just saved Abby from—

"BECAUSE I HATE YOU!"

The scream tore from Abby's throat, raw and unrelenting as she rejected her sister.

Cree recoiled, her face scrunching as if it had been seared.

Lightning struck the branch, and it gave way in an explosion of fire and splinters.

The wind blew, throwing Abby off balance and sending her tumbling below. She gazed down at the ravine, her soon-to-be grave. And in that moment, she was glad. Glad that at least in her final moments, she finally let out what she had been holding in for years and gave her sister exactly what she wanted: her downfall serving the Kids Next Door.

Something caught her hand.

Abby remembered looking up, shocked as Cree pulled her to safety.

She didn't say a word as the older girl gently put her down.

Abby remembered raising her fists, preparing for some kind of trick.

Cree's face darkened.

Abby remembered her sister shedding a single tear before she rocketed away.

She didn't say a word as she began crying herself as the rain finally fell.

—Two traitors. Two monsters that were affronts to everything she believed in. Both older girls who had her right where they wanted her…

…and both times, the result was the same.

Abby looked down at the crestfallen Rachel T. McKenzie, on her knees clutching at her bleeding forearm. Her hand hung low, her dirty bangs veiling her tear-stained expression. One hand painfully squeezed her open wound, and the other had clutched an old pair of sunglasses like a lifeline: Nigel's sunglasses.

Rachel snapped up to look at her. Abby didn't flinch at the state of the older girl's face; eyes wild with panic and surprise, cheeks flushed from exertion, and her mouth taking quick, shallow breaths as the weight of her actions settled in.

At the state of the older fugitive, so broken and unsure what to do, some long-buried urge blossomed in Abby's chest as she took a careful step forward and asked, "Why?"

The word hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, a demand for answers neither of them knew how to give. Rachel's throat felt tight, constricted by the weight of her guilt and shame. She searched for words, for some semblance of justification, but found only silence.

Something in Abby snapped. "WHY?"

The question echoed throughout the empty halls of the pizzeria, ghosts of nostalgic times past keeping quiet vigil over two warriors, two women having a true heart-to-heart in years.

"…because I'm not a traitor…" Rachel's whisper pierced the silence. Neither girl was sure whom she was truly trying to convince. "I-I…I'm not…"

Meeting Rachel's gaze, Abby felt a pang of recognition stir within her. Beneath the layers of anger and resentment, she saw the reflection of her struggles mirrored in the tear-streaked face before her. It was a haunting realization, one that threatened to unravel the carefully constructed walls she had built around her heart.

As they stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, it became painfully clear that they were not just adversaries but kindred spirits bound by the burdens they carried. In each other's eyes, they saw the echoes of their shattered dreams and broken promises, a shared testament to the harsh realities of their chosen path.

In that fleeting moment of connection, Abby felt a flicker of empathy ignite within her, a glimmer of understanding that transcended their bitter rivalry. It was fragile, born from the ashes of their shared pain, but in that moment, it was enough to bridge the divide between them, if only for a heartbeat.

Two former Supreme Leaders gazed at their reflections, realizing they could never hate one another more than they truly hated themselves.

"…you're right. I should understand. I do," Abby said, voice shaking. "A Supreme Leader…has to give up a lot. It's a job no kid wants, but someone's gotta do it. Someone's gotta be there to tell 'em it's gonna be okay, tell 'em they'll get to see tomorrow. Someone's gotta give 'em hope even we ain't got none left for ourselves."

Abby's voice wavered as she spoke, her own emotions bubbling to the surface. She had spent so long burying her vulnerabilities beneath a facade of strength, but now, in this moment of raw honesty, she couldn't hold back the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

"I know what it's like to be alone," Abby continued, her tone softening with genuine empathy. "I know what it's like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, to fail to live up that pedestal those kids put us on. It drives ya crazy. It makes you wanna say 'the hell with it all' and just…just give in to that nasty voice inside your head. "

Rachel's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she listened to Abby's words. For so long, she had felt isolated and alone, trapped in a cycle of self-doubt and regret.

Abby knelt beside Rachel, her expression filled with compassion and understanding. "This…this ain't it, Rachel. You were a Supreme Leader once. You were Kids Next Door. I know you're hurting but taking it out on each other," she said, looking at the destruction around them, "just leads to more of this."

Rachel hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

But as she looked into Abby's earnest gaze, she saw a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness.

"And you'll just forgive me, just like that?" Rachel asked before looking away. "We're not kids anymore, Abby. We both know that's not how this is gonna work."

Abby shook her head. "Abby ain't gonna forgive ya today. Not tomorrow. Hell, she doesn't know if she ever truly will. But…this is bigger than both of us. She came here thinking you were a lost cause." She extended her hand. "Prove her wrong."

With a shaky breath, Rachel reached out, her hand trembling as it met Abby's.

"…I'm sorry."

All the air rushed from Abby's lungs as Rachel buried her fist into her gut. Abby stumbled backward, caught completely off guard.

With a swift motion, Rachel grabbed Abby by the collar of her jacket and propelled her into the nearby kitchen supply closet. The door swung open with a loud creak, and Abby crashed into the shelves, sending various pizza-themed dishes and pans clattering atop her.

The metallic clanging of utensils falling rung Abby's ears, and she grunted in pain as she struggled to get on her feet. She lifted her eyes, seeing Rachel standing solemnly in the doorway.

"…it's too late for me," Rachel quietly admitted. "I don't have anything left…I have to see this through."

As Abby struggled, Rachel caught sight of her discarded YIELD sign. She stumbled over to the weapon and picked it up. She couldn't recall a time in her life when the trusty staff had felt so heavy.

She sighed. A weapon designed to be wielded in the just defense of kids everywhere.

Rachel's eyes wandered over to Abby, the girl fighting to get up despite it all. Despite knowing it was pointless.

Defending Abby would have to do.

Inside the closet, Abby got to her feet just in time to hear the door slam shut. She dragged herself over to the door, slamming her fist against it as something kept it locked in place. "Rachel!"

"Can you indulge me, follow one last order?" Rachel asked, staring at the floor. "Don't tell Nigel. Tell him to forget about me. If he finds out where I've gone, he'll come running. We both know that."

She recalled how he looked that day, standing straighter and smiling despite trying to be professional. "I'd follow your lead anywhere, so don't think getting a fancy promotion is going to keep me out of your hair."

She remembered being thankful for how the low light of the SCAMPER hid her blush. "Is that a promise?"

She remembered Nigel nodding so confidently, so surely. "It's a pinky promise."

One final, lone tear fell from her face.

"Without him, it's over for me. Don't know if I have what it takes to pull a fast one over Father anymore," she admitted. She then sadly smiled. "But…I think I'm fine with that."

Abby slumped against the door, slowly sliding against the cold metal. She gazed up listlessly to the ceiling. "…you don't have to do this."

"I have to try. Something needs to change. I don't want anyone else to suffer like we did," she said with a tone of fatal finality as she gazed at her reflection in the glass of the door. "…I don't want another me."

Abby continued to stare at the ceiling as the footsteps grew quieter until only silence rang in the air. She looked around her, only slightly aware of the fact she was trembling; briefly considering the thought she was hyperventilating. Her surroundings were scathingly similar to that day over three years ago when Rachel had left her trapped in a similar situation.

Back then, she had hollered and screamed; raged against the world for subjecting her to such a fate. This time, she knew better. This time, she calmed her breathing as she accepted the futility of it all. This is what she got for going against her destiny.

As the light of the closet flickered out, a blanket of darkness enveloping her, she couldn't help but think back to Tommy's question: how could the Kids Next Door save anyone when they couldn't save themselves?

She thought of operatives like Maurice and even Chad who were faced with the choice of pretending to be decommissioned, robbing themselves of their friends and comrades, or playing the role of traitor, having their legacy tarnished and their name spat on by everyone they protected from the shadows.

She thought of Kuki and Wally, of how the latter didn't get a choice to keep fighting and was forced to submit to archaic rules someone made a long time ago. And the former? She was saddled with a worse fate, either looking forward to turning into a bitter Numbuh Five clone or a Numbuh Three-Sixty-Two successor seeking suicidal martyrdom.

She thought of Hoagie, sweet Hoagie gone forever with a buhmillion other operatives that also would never make their way back home again.

She thought of Nigel, forever cursed to choose between love and duty and lose pieces of himself until nothing was left.

And finally, she thought of herself. Abigail Lincoln, the famous Numbuh Five. The ever-so-cool Numbuh Five, so wise and kind beyond her years. The illustrious Numbuh Five who didn't question a thing and let it all crumble in front of her like a castle in the sand.

Numbuh Five who thought she could shoulder it all and then simply watched as it all fell.

This is all your fault.

"…I know."

---

"Abby! Rachel! Someone answer me!"

A million thoughts crossed his mind on the ride over. He didn't take the time to notice the cold breeze whipping across his face, no he had to focus. Focus on how he would stop two of the most important women in his life from ripping each other to shreds. He had to get there in time. He had to stop it before it was too late.

When the Hoagiemobile made a sharp left into the parking lot and Nigel saw the crumbling pizzeria and whiffed the faint scent of MARBLE mustard in the air, he darkly mused that he should change his code name from Numbuh One to Numbuh One-Step-Behind.

Nigel waded through the wreckage, his hot-pink steed blowing a hole into the wall to make an entrance. Very crude, but devastatingly effective and he could not argue with good results. He searched every nook and cranny, finding all sorts of evidence of a violent encounter, but no clear indicator of who walked away the victor.

"Zero, no. No, no, no," he whispered, dread bubbling with each passing second. He was beginning to face the grim reality he would only encounter one girl alive at the end of this, and it was horrible that the logistical part of his mind was already formulating who it would prefer it to be.

Nigel smacked his head, beating those thoughts away as he kept looking. A familiar shade of red caught his attention, and his heart stopped at what he saw.

Over across from the play area, a wall had collapsed to reveal a kitchen. In the far back he saw it: an old, battered YIELD sign propped up against a closet door.

Without thinking, Nigel sprinted over to the closet, ripping the sign away and kicking down the door. "Abby! Please tell me you're alright. Please!"

"Heh. What took ya, boss?"

There, on the floor leaning against the wall with one leg out and the other knee raised, was Abby, giving the opposite wall a blank stare. Nigel was too swept up in his relief to notice any oddities and ran and scooped the girl into a tight embrace.

"Thank goodness," he whimpered, nearly on the verge of tears as she squeezed her, vowing to never let go again. "I thought I lost you…"

"Oh, shush, you," she said softly, gently returning his hug and rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Abby's here."

Nigel leaned away, sniffling up a smile as he checked over the girl for any serious injuries. His smile disappeared. Her once flawless skin was littered with dark bruises and abrasions. Her clothes were nearly torn to pieces, and worst of all, she had a small, sad smile on her face that unsettled him more than any visible wound he could spot.

"What happened here?" he slowly asked. Reminded of the situation, he looked over at the YIELD sign, barely able to conceive of the ramifications of not seeing its owner in plain view. "Where…where's Rachel."

"She's gone. Slipped right through Abby's fingers yet again," she said, a low chuckle escaping her as she shook her head. "Man, she can't do nothing right, can she?"

Nigel's face hardened with desperate resolve. He spun away from Abby, on the ground picking through the rubble for some sort of clue. "She can't have gotten far! I know you have the DNA tracker. Quick, boot it up while I find something to—"

"No can do. It got blown to bits."

"What!?" Nigel reeled. "T-That can't be! I-It was our only lead! How else am I supposed to find her now?"

Abby's smile finally dropped as she looked to the ground. "I…don't think she wants you to find her. Not this time."

"But I have to!" he said, voice high-pitched as he began pacing. Icy panic prickled at his senses, and his cadence began to surge as he talked himself in circles. "S-She's waiting on me. I've got to find her. I have to give her my answer! I have to make her see—"

Abby's caress on his shoulder halted his speech. He looked up at the girl, hoping to find answers, but paled. Abby's face was not one of resolve, not of one about to proclaim all was not lost. Abby's face was that of a parent about to explain the tooth fairy wasn't real, one about to explain the family dog was going to sleep forever.

The face of someone about to gently tell him that it—

"It's over, Nigel," Abby said, her heart breaking for the boy. "You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."

Nigel's hands fell limp at his side. Abby let him go, walking out of the closet and gazing at the chaos around them. The play area was a crater, the giant pizza cutter tore through the arcade machines, the stage was littered with robotic limbs, and bits of sheetrock rained from the gaping hole in the ceiling.

"Abby tried, y'know," she started. After a moment, she caught herself. A noise erupted from the back of her throat as she cruelly laughed. "Ah, who is she foolin'? Abby didn't come here to try and save her. Didn't even come here to spare you the pain. Nah, that was just a lie she told herself. Abby came here to hurt her."

Apprehension seized Nigel's heart as the girl in front of him bellowed into the night, holding her face in her hands as if it would shatter otherwise.

"That's all it's ever been about, baby! About Abby getting hers. It wasn't about saving you, those kids, or any of 'em. No, Abby spent all these years just waiting to get a chance to slap a bitch who messed with her. Abby blamed Rachel for everything, so she wanted to get even…she wanted to make Rachel pay for everything she put Abby through and then some."

Abby glared up into the night sky, a hateful smirk etching across her lips. "She wanted revenge. Abby really is no better than her sister. No better than Rachel herself." Her nails dug into the palms of her hands, leaving angry little red marks and on the verge of drawing blood. "A kid was hurting—one of our own was suffering and Abby was happy to let her rot. Some Kids Next Door operative she turned out to be, huh, boss?"

"That's enough, Abby," Nigel said, voice firm. But there was the faintest quiver. The vile coming from her mouth…he just wanted it to stop. He furrowed his brow. "We're…we're wasting time. Where did she go?"

Abby's hands unfurled and she looked over her shoulder, sending him a mournful gaze. One full of equal parts empathy and pity.

He couldn't stand it as he marched forward. "Numbuh 5, I am ordering you to tell me where Rachel is right this—"

Something crunched underneath his boot, and a curious little worm inside his heart told him to investigate. Bewildered, he lifted his foot and dug a piece of velvet paper from his heel.

Abby's eyes widened for a fraction of a second as Nigel began reading the invitation. Her eyes then closed, and she could only sigh as she stepped closer to him.

"Oh my god," he said, horrified. He lifted his face, expression twisting into an uncanny fusion of worry, anger, and betrayal; his favorite cocktail of emotions as of late. "She's gone to Father. He knows. R-Rachel told him and she was going to—"

"She couldn't do it."

Nigel stopped as Abby spoke again, the girl looking up to the moon through the improvised view-port. "No doubt he had her set up pretty. Was probably gonna use that company of his broadcast that evidence across the globe and put us all on blast. All she had to do was hand you over for one happy family reunion," she scoffed near the end. Her gaze then softened as she looked over to the YIELD dormant against the floor. "But she couldn't…wouldn't hand you over. And now, she's gonna end up getting herself killed. Guess you weren't the only one who still cared, boss."

The information was almost too much to absorb. His mind raced, trying to process the whirlwind crashing over him. His heart pounded in his chest as he struggled to find his footing. Rachel had gone to Father, their greatest enemy, with evidence that could destroy them all.

But she couldn't bring herself to hand him over, even if it meant risking her own life.

The weight of the situation bore down on Nigel like a leaden cloak, suffocating him with its gravity. He felt a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through him - anger at Rachel's reckless actions, fear for her safety, and a gnawing sense of betrayal mingled with a flicker of hope that she still truly cared.

With a deep breath, Nigel forced himself to focus. He couldn't afford to be consumed by his emotions now, not when Rachel's life hung in the balance. He turned to Abby, his eyes pleading for guidance amidst the turmoil.

"What's our next move?" he asked, his voice steady despite the storm raging within him. "We can't just stand here while Rachel's in danger. We have to get to her before Father does!"

Abby met his gaze with a solemn expression, her turmoil reflected in her eyes. She knew as well as Nigel did that time was running out, and they couldn't afford to hesitate any longer.

Off in the distance, she saw them; placed protectively against an assortment of dining towels, was a pair of sunglasses. Abby ignored Nigel's protests as she ambled over to pick them up, rolling them against her fingers as she stared into the lens.

An old, washed-up face looked back at her, and she made a decision.

Abby walked up to Nigel, another sad smile in place as she carefully took his hand. He watched, stupefied as she transferred them into his palm, and tenderly coiled his fingers around them.

"That's your call, boss," she said as she pulled away. "It's your show now."

Nigel blinked, unease stifling as Abby started to walk away. "W-what is that supposed to mean? This is no time for jokes."

Abby paused, her steps faltering for a moment before she turned back to face Nigel, her expression grave.

"Abby don't fool around, not anymore," she said softly, her voice tinged with sorrow. "It's time for her to step back and let you take the lead. She'll just slow you down."

Nigel's brow furrowed in confusion, his grip tightening on the sunglasses in his hand. He couldn't understand why Abby was suddenly relinquishing control, especially when they needed her experience and expertise now more than ever. "But Abby, we—the Kids Next Door need you," he protested, his voice tinged with desperation. "We're partners, remember?"

Abby offered him a sad smile, her eyes filled with a mixture of regret and determination.

"We were partners, baby," she corrected gently. "But I'm not the kid I used to be. I've made too many mistakes."

Nigel's heart clenched with despair as Abby turned to leave, his voice littered with agony as he reached out to stop her.

"Abby, please," he pleaded. "Don't do this. We need you. I need you!"

Abby hesitated, her hand hovering in mid-air as she turned to face Nigel, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"You don't," she whispered. "I'm not strong enough anymore. I've failed too many times. I couldn't save Hoagie. I couldn't be there for Wally or Kuki when they needed me. I couldn't keep the promise I made to you before you left. I got bitter. I got old."

Nigel shook his head, his own eyes misting over with tears as he stepped closer to Abby, his hand reaching out to grasp hers in a final desperate plea. "You haven't failed, Abby," he insisted, his voice choking on his grief. "You're the strongest person I know! You're the entire reason I'm in the Kids Next Door! You inspired me—believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself! You saw a lousy cadet who couldn't even pass his entrance exam and turned him into a sector leader! You never gave up, so you…you can't now! I-I won't allow it! That's an order!"

But Abby's resolve remained unyielding, her gaze haunted by the weight of her past mistakes.

"I'm sorry, Nigel, that's one order I can't follow," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of their surroundings. "I can't keep pretending that everything will be okay when I know it won't. I'm tired, Nigel. Tired of fighting, tired of pretending that I'm something I'm not. I'm...done."

Nigel's heart shattered at Abby's words, the pain of their shared history crashing over him like a tidal wave. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her close and never let her go, but deep down, he knew that Abby had already made her decision.

With a heavy heart, Nigel released Abby's hand, his gaze filled with a mixture of sorrow and regret. "I…I don't know if I'm enough to face him alone…"

Abby smiled wistfully. "You're the best operative on this planet. Of all the crud the GKND tried to sell Abby, that's the only line she ever bought, and she'd do it again in a heartbeat." She cupped his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "'Sides, you got Kuki. You got Wally. I bet you'll even pull a miracle out of your ass and get Hoagie too. You'll have sector V back."

Nigel gulped, swallowing his sadness as he forced himself not to cry. "But…it won't be sector V without you."

"It was before, and it will be after," she said. Slowly, she leaned in, closing her eyes as she warmly kissed his cheek. She pulled away, tears in her eyes as she let go. "Goodbye, Nigel. I'm so glad I got to see you one last time."

And with that, Abby left a trail of tears as she removed herself from the equation. One less burden to weigh the great Numbuh One down.

Nigel watched her go, frozen as he just let her walk right out of his life.

Minutes passed until finally, he was alone.

"…but I can't do it," he sobbed, falling to his knees. "Not without you…"

---

Thousands of miles away, a sharply dressed boy pushed open a rusted, chained gate. His shiny, spotless Oxford shoes clacked against the faded stone walkway, eventually giving way to a soft crunch of grass.

The boy, looking no older than ten, walked alone in the solemn, private cemetery, respectfully treading past numerous tombstones and family crypts. The sounds of the city were a mere whisper on the horizon as calm, melodious wind swept through the greenway, singing silent songs and messages of long ago.

He continued, venturing deep into the cemetery, the names of various graves reflecting off the dark of his sunglasses. In one hand, he held a bouquet of meticulously picked pink carnations, and in the other, a butterscotch cupcake exuding a single unlit candle.

As the boy wandered deeper into the cemetery, a sense of purpose emanated from his determined steps. His gaze swept over the rows of graves, occasionally pausing at certain markers as if silently communicating with the souls resting beneath.

Finally, he reached a secluded corner where an ornate mausoleum stood, adorned with ivy creeping up its weathered walls. The boy approached it with solemn reverence, his footsteps muffled by the thick grass underfoot. He stopped before a particular tomb, a simple yet elegant marble slab with a name lovingly engraved upon it.

Setting down the bouquet of pink carnations gently, the boy carefully arranged them around the base of the tombstone, their delicate fragrance mingling with the earthy scent of the cemetery. With a sense of tender nostalgia, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small, worn photograph, its edges softened with age.

Placing the photograph beside the flowers, the boy's expression softened as he traced a finger over the smiling faces captured within. For a moment, he seemed lost in memories, his gaze distant yet filled with a bittersweet warmth.

Then, with a determined resolve, he reached for the butterscotch cupcake, its frosting swirled in delicate patterns. Placing it gently on the ground, he retrieved a lighter from his pocket and flicked it to life with practiced ease. Holding the flame to the candle atop the cupcake, he watched as it flickered into life, casting a soft glow in the gathering dusk.

As the flame danced in the evening breeze, the boy bowed his head in silent prayer, his thoughts whispered into the stillness of the cemetery. Though his words were unheard by mortal ears, they carried a weight of longing and love, a tribute to the memories held dear within his heart.

"Happy birthday, Mother," Numbuh Infinity whispered.

The diplomat boy stood, hands seeking shelter in his pockets as he stared upward.

Infinity was good at what he did, and he had been doing it for a long time. A long, long time. His service record stretched for longer than any normal human operative's ever should, and it was a choice. A choice he made willingly. At the time, he believed it to be the right choice. He believed it was the right choice to make so he could work to make the dream of everyone hugging and playing nice a reality.

And it truly was that; a dream. A whimsy, silly little dream only a child could come up with.

A dream his mother held onto until she drew her final breath.

Disease had taken her.

Disease had taken many things around him. He was spared that fate but granted a crueler one.

Disease couldn't touch him, but instead, he got to stand by and watch as it touched everything he ever cared about.

They took things from him.

They took everything from him.

And every day, they still kept asking for more.

A beep went off. He unearthed his wrist from his pocket and pulled back his sleeve. One of his brows quirked as he glanced at his watch; it seemed Numbuh One only had twenty-four hours left.

His mind wandered to that boy; that boy and everyone intertwined with his mission. Bound by rules, interstellar restrictions, and very stern 'you better not!' finger-wags, there was only so much input he was allowed to give on this whole affair.

Numbuh One had not been his number one choice, funny enough. It was the first time he had left a choice up to someone else. He hated leaving choices up to someone else because it meant giving up control. It meant giving up responsibility.

"It has to be him," she had said.

He frowned. He was quite familiar with Numbuh One's story; far more than he'd ever care to admit. It was a story of being neck deep in conspiracy, the fate of the world—maybe even the galaxy?—hanging in the finicky balance. It was a story of getting tangled in a web of love and betrayal. It was a story of duty versus sentiment, and the impossible choice that came right at the end.

Numbuh Infinity blew out the candle. He gave the tomb one final neutral look before turning and walking away.

He was quite familiar with Numbuh One's story…

…and he didn't quite care for how it ended the last time he lived it, either.

---

Buckle up, my wonderful friends!

I know you're filled with gripping suspense,

Next time we'll see how the trag-e-dy ends~

Just you!

And Me!

And Ted. E. Beee-eeeaaar!

…

THERE'S NO MAFIA HERE!

-applause-

Credits:

"Just You and Me (And Ted E. Bear) – Jared Emerson-Johnson