A/N: Not a whole lot to say on this one...just enjoy.

Edited to remove a spelling error that got past my word processor's proofread.

Arthur was instructed to turn around with his hands up, and he complied with the order. Unfazed by the fact that he was staring down the barrel of his own pistol, he talked to deescalate the situation.

"Sayla, please. What's gotten into you?"

"Did you make a call about my daughter?" she snapped at him.

"A call? What about?"

"Don't play coy. You saw what happened. You know what she is," Sayla stated.

"I'll bite. I know what she is: a girl no older than three," Arthur said. "She shattered a Mana barrier, but I didn't consider it my business at the time. What is my business is that you're holding me at gunpoint."

Sayla's grip on the pistol tightened as Arthur softly moved forward.

"Just lower the gun, Sayla. I'm not some child predator, if that's what you're worried about," Arthur said, gently.

"No…that's not what I- If you called, they'll take her away," Sayla said, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes.

"You're a good mother. Who is 'they', and why would they take your daughter away?"

"You already know! She's a Norma," she said, and seemingly shocked that she said that aloud.

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" Arthur asked.

Sayla's expression was one that looked bewildered, as if Arthur had been living under a rock.

"Are you serious? You haven't heard of Norma where you came from? Girls born unable to use the Light of Mana? And more, shatter it on contact?"

"I can't use it, either," Arthur said, shocking her further. "If I could, I'd have put up a barrier this entire time we were talking."

The gun shook in Sayla's hands as she seemed to consider the implications of this revelation.

"You rejected the Light of Mana?"

"That implies that the Light of Mana was offered to me in the first place. It wasn't," Arthur said, taking a few steps forward. "Please. Just lower the gun. I just want to talk."

It was reflexive; her finger jerked, pulling the trigger. The hammer fell…only to click audibly.

In truth, Arthur was not worried about being held up to start with. He'd unloaded the magazine and cleared the chamber earlier while changing into these clothes back in town – he had no way to conceal it in public, and it would have been stupid if his pistol discharged while being carried in his duffel bag. There was a panicked reaction on Sayla's face over the fact that she pulled the trigger, followed by the relief that it didn't actually fire. Right in front of her, Arthur stood, lowering the muzzle gently.

"A bit of advice: if you're threatening someone with a gun, it works better with bullets," Arthur said, deadpan, before gently tugging the pistol from her hand.

Taking a few steps back, placing the pistol on the dinner table, Arthur took a seat, saying, "Fill me in. Why is Serra being a Norma such a big deal?"

As they sat over the next hour, Sayla laid out what common knowledge was regarding Norma: that they were considered inherently violent and antisocial monsters, menaces to society. For some reason, only girls could be born as Norma. In order to maintain society, the Norma were rounded up and sent somewhere that no one seems to know about. From a purely pragmatic standpoint it seemed logical to monitor someone who could potentially disrupt civil order, but the reasoning given to justify such an action sounded utterly ridiculous to Arthur; like a propaganda hit piece.

He thought this new world was screwed up before, but this took it to a different level. It wasn't like one could choose whether they could be born a Norma just like they could commit to an ideology. Even if the Norma was nothing more than a baby – obviously unable to be a threat to anyone – they were taken under the pretenses that they were inherently violent. The humanist in Arthur was unable to make the extreme leap in logic that one would need to conclude that the Norma were any more dangerous than any other human being.

"Does anyone know what society does with the Norma that are taken away?" Arthur asked.

"No one knows – there's gossip, but nothing else," Sayla said.

"What about you? You were willing to threaten me if it meant protecting Serra. Do you view the Norma the same way everyone else seems to?" Arthur asked.

Sayla seemed taken aback by the question, looking away and biting her lip. She was silent, hesitating for a moment before opening her mouth to speak.

"I admit for the longest time, I believed the same thing. That the Norma were monsters – vermin that needed to be wiped out," she started, her lips upturning into a melancholic smile. "After I had Serra…it all changed. I'm not sure how or why I bore a Norma, but whenever I feel Serra in my arms, I feel like I made the right choice in keeping her."

Arthur put the pieces together and said the quiet part out loud.

"Your husband didn't agree," he said plainly.

"No," Sayla said. "He left me. To this day, I still don't know why he didn't turn Serra in. I just…wish we could have all been a family."

Arthur placed a gentle hand on Sayla's shoulder as she started crying. He wasn't good at all this sentimental stuff, what with his profession as a mercenary. Even so, it hurt not to do anything.

"I'm sorry, Sayla. I shouldn't have pried," Arthur said.

Sayla sniffled as she collected her wits, and she smiled through her tears as she looked at Arthur.

"No, don't worry. I've kept this bottled up for what feels like ages," Sayla said. "If anything, I'm glad to have talked about it."

"Is there really no one in Mana society that would be willing to defend a Norma?" Arthur asked. "It's a large world – there have to be some sympathizers out there."

"Well…I have read up on a few groups that were philosophical dissidents. I thought of going to one of them but…they aren't – strictly speaking – Norma sympathizers," Sayla said. "You're the only one I've met, but…"

"Go on…"

"You said…you can't use Mana?"

"Yeah. I take it there's a stigma to that, too," Arthur guessed.

"Yes. Some historians call humans who never received the Light of Mana 'the Abandoned Ones' or 'those Left Behind'. They are said to be descended from humans that lived in an era in which the Light of Mana hadn't united humanity. They were also said to be on the brink of extinction due to being inherently violent," Sayla said. "Those left are often decried as terrorists."

"I see…I must come across as surprisingly civil for a 'terrorist'," Arthur said bitterly. "I suppose you have to decide whether to turn me in or not."

"Terrorist" wasn't too far off the mark in describing Arthur, considering his stint with both Line Ark and ORCA. Still, it carried the connotation of being a deliberate taker of innocent lives for the sake of striking fear into the hearts of others. Old King was a better fit for the term.

"Look, Sayla, I won't say a single word about Serra if you don't say a word about me – I see this whole 'Norma' business as bullshit," Arthur said.

Sayla looked at him incredulously.

"What? Is there food left on my face, or something?"

"No," Sayla said. "It's just…I haven't heard such profanity in a long time."

"Oh. Right…sorry about that," Arthur said, looking down at his hands. "So, about these dissidents from society…what have you heard?"

"Well, there are two groups that have made waves lately. The Seekers are mostly diplomats and academics – they don't get fond welcomes in the six nations but are tolerated. They haven't really done anything illegal, after all," Sayla explained. "The Trailblazers are more militant and are thought of as the rejects of society – only the Abandoned Ones and the Norma are considered more dangerous."

"I see. Depending on how things go, you may have to go to one of them if Serra is discovered," Arthur said, before standing.

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep on the couch, if that's alright with you," he said.

"Oh, don't worry…I have a guest room you can use," Sayla said.

"I don't mean to impose, but…"

"No, consider it thanks for saving Serra from that fall, and for keeping her secret," Sayla said.

"Well, I guess…if you're sure it's alright."

Later that night, Sayla was staring at a Mana screen, wondering what she should do. She could easily call the police on Arthur; he was technically one of the Abandoned Ones. All the same, what kept her from committing to it was Arthur's actions themselves. He could have easily subdued her if he had ill intent, but he didn't. She had cried, but he steadied her – and it felt completely genuine.

Plus, there was a risk he would tell them about Serra if she did so. There was an intensity to his look that told Sayla that it was not a bluff. He probably didn't trust her, but he seemed sincere.

With a sigh, she dismissed the screen without making the call. If she was being honest, she wanted to trust him. His sympathy and tolerance towards her were ones that she and Serra didn't get from her own husband. If more men were like Arthur…

She shook her head. Thinking about it tonight was not going to help keep Serra safe.

Over the next few weeks, Arthur got the lay of the land and plotted a few routes back to his NEXT. Inconspicuous ones that would allow him to easily lose observers. He even packed a few less-lethal armaments that he stowed in his NEXT; smoke grenades, flashbangs, and strobes. The days that he didn't spend doing this were ones with which he talked to Sayla, discussing options if Serra was ever discovered to be a Norma.

No, not "If". When she was discovered. Arthur considered her discovery inevitable, especially if they frequently went to the city and back. Even so, Arthur was committed to keeping Sayla and her daughter together.

It took some trial and error to get his NEXT's UI to pick up Mana communication frequencies – and there were a lot of dead zones thanks to his general ignorance of how the network worked as well as the jury-rigged nature of his modifications – but he managed to gain limited access to what was on the waves. From what Arthur could tell, his arrival hadn't gone completely unnoticed – apparently, the night sky in the northern nations was filled with colorful auroras when he was dragged over. So far, people seemed to believe a comet streaked across the sky.

It should dissuade people from investigating, at least.

As for finding out if anyone was brought with him, he changed radio frequencies often. He had it set up to repeat an automated message: a musical tune, followed by a series of numbers (each corresponding to a letter of the English alphabet). The tune was the Lincolnshire Poacher, and the numbers were fifteen, eighteen, three, and one. The idea was to fish out allied LYNX and Operators. Not a single bite each time he tuned in, and changing the frequency became a daily ritual for Arthur.

Sayla had plans to head back into town, and Arthur insisted on joining her. They went to the city using her car – powered by Mana rather than any form of internal combustion – and he kept the duffel bag with his stuff on his person. She needed a few groceries that one couldn't just pick from a fruit tree, so the only place was the city.

On the way, curiosity got the better of him, and Arthur asked about the spire in the city. Sayla looked at him incredulously for a moment, before apparently deciding that the question was a natural consequence of him being a drifter. Sayla said it was called the "Dawn Pillar", and it was – by many accounts – the oldest known structure in the Empire of Misurugi, and quite possibly the world. While it answered Arthur's question about what it was, it didn't explain why his implants reacted when he saw it. He didn't dare talk about his cybernetics, though – he was enough of an oddity to Sayla without bringing them up.

Instead, he focused on his immediate objective. If he was going to play bodyguard for Serra, Arthur figured he'd need some more clothes, anyway. The LYNX decided to part company with Sayla and her daughter, for the time being, and look through one of the clothing vendors. No one rummaged through his bag, thankfully – people were so assured of the security of society that they didn't figure that anyone would be carrying weapons with them. In a supposedly perfect world, complacency is an inevitability.

In the end, he settled on a loose leather jacket. Combined with the shoulder holster he packed away, this made conceal-carry simple. A pair of aviator sunglasses completed the ensemble. To his irritation, he was a bit of a head-turner – considering that he wanted to maintain a low profile, if possible, this was a bit of a problem. He wasn't particularly handsome, either: there must have been a lot of sandy blonde men even more attractive than him in this world.

It's not your looks, Arthur – it's your walk. Confidence attracts, and that's why you never have just one girl in every port.

Why was his Teach always so right about that?

Ignoring the looks he got, he focused instead on going to the meeting spot he and Sayla agreed on. When he reached the spot, neither she nor Serra were there. At first, he figured they were simply late, but as the minutes passed, a pit formed in his stomach and a sensation of numbness surrounded his implants before he started hoofing it around the city. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad had happened to them.

When he finally found them, they were surrounded by police. And in front of Sayla was that girl whose face Athur had been seeing on the signs around town: that Angelise kid. Sayla was on her hands and knees, in tears. Muscling his way past the crowd, Arthur kneeled by Sayla.

"Did they…?"

"Please, Angelise-sama…"

"The Light of Mana. The ultimate evolution of humanity," the Princess said. "The Norma reject it. They are instinctively violent, antisocial monsters. She must be quarantined, immediately."

So, Serra was discovered, and Sayla took a beating for trying to defend her daughter. Swallowing down his hatred and contempt at those words, Arthur stood and positioned himself between Serra and Angelise, perfectly aware of a few guns being aimed at him. He kept his hands out, playing it cool.

"Princess, with respect, she looks like a baby to me," Arthur said. "Any person can turn out alright if raised properly."

Angelise shook her head, replying, "Any person can turn out alright, but Norma are not people. The predilection for violence is in-born."

"Mister Milton," a familiar voice started, and he saw the pompous self-absorbed face of Julio. "Have you lost your senses? Left alone, the Norma are a threat to all society."

"Maybe. Or maybe that's just what you're all taught," Arthur rebutted.

"What?"

"That 'Norma' hasn't even taken her first steps – how can a child that can't even walk or talk pose a threat to the social order?" Arthur questioned.

"It is inevitable that she will," Angelise said. "It is in-born."

"It seems you won't be reasoned with – none of you can," Arthur said, narrowly resisting the urge to punch this "princess" right in the face.

Taking a few steps back, Arthur turned around and hugged Sayla.

"You both must forget her and have another child," he heard Angelise say. "A proper child that isn't a Norma".

His anger reached its peak, and with barely contained rage, he whispered into Sayla's ear, "When I say so, take Serra and run."

Sayla swallowed hard as Arthur stood, guns on him as he reached into his duffel.

"Alright, alright. Lay off. I'll come quietly," he said, before a blinding light filled the scene as he pulled out the strobe light.

The crowd gasped as they were blinded by the light, and Sayla used the opportunity to grab Serra, with Arthur dropping a smoke grenade. The explosion showered the entire area with a smoke screen as Arthur dropped the strobe and ran to guide Sayla out of the area. To their extreme fortune, people in the distance were too distracted by the plume of smoke to notice exactly who emerged.

The trio were already in Sayla's car by the time the bullets started flying. Not having the Light of Mana, Arthur sat in the passenger seat while Sayla drove. Sayla was surprisingly well-composed, considering she was probably never shot at before.

They were pursued beyond the city limits, and Arthur was fairly confident in his ability to minimize civilian casualties. Leaning out the window, he opened fire with his pistol on the pursuing police. His efforts were rendered moot by the Mana barriers they put up, and he got clipped by return fire.

"Don't look in the mirror, Sayla," he commanded. "Just don't."

Arthur primed the flash grenade, letting the safety lever hang before chucking it just behind them. More focused on their quarry than on the grenade, the pursuing officers caught the full blast of the flash, the resulting disorientation sending them off the road. Panting heavily, Arthur settled back in his seat as he wrapped his belt as a makeshift tourniquet around his arm.

"We're clear, for now," he said. "We got lucky. Any worse, and it would be my chest that has a bullet wound."

"You mean you got shot!?" Sayla asked, panicked.

A bullet had gone clean through Arthur's forearm. His belt was stemming the bleeding, but it was still bad.

"I've been shot more often than the family camera," Arthur uttered. "Don't worry about me."

"No, we have to stop the bleeding. Hold your arm up," Sayla prompted, her hand aglow with Mana.

Arthur did as he was told, and in about half a minute, the bleeding had stopped completely, leaving a scar. His muscles under it still felt tender, but the pressing concern of bleeding out was addressed.

"Thank you," Arthur said.

"I'm the one who should be saying that – you got hurt protecting Serra…and protecting me," Sayla said, tearful. "I want to make it up to you, but I don't know how."

"Don't go thanking me too early," Arthur said. "It's only a matter of time before they catch up. I have to buy you time. Tell me: does this road run near your home?"

"Yes, it does, but why?"

"I left something important nearby. Trust me when I say it will help us," Arthur said. "There's a highway overpass up ahead. I'm going to collapse it."

"That's a crazy idea…"

"Stick around me long enough, and you get used to crazy ideas. Slow the vehicle down a bit," Arthur said. "After I'm out, keep going. Don't look back."

"Arthur…will I see you again?"

"I don't know," he said. "That's up to the tides of fate."

The vehicle slowed to a manageable speed, and Arthur made a dive out, toting his duffel with him. He made the mad dash to his NEXT, recognizing the region he was in.

Nearly a half hour later, Sayla had nearly given up hope as a few more cars belonging to the local police. Next thing she knew, a few explosions sounded behind her, sending the cars tumbling end-over-end and the shadow of something large passed overhead. There, silhouetted against the sky, was a white machine, engines blaring at full power – so fast that it was merely a white glint against the backdrop.

Was that…?

Arthur?

A/N: I was originally going to do the entire NEXT battle in this chapter. I instead decided to split it among the chapters, because I felt that letting it hang off on Sayla's perspective was better for pacing. Reviews are appreciated.