"Just to verify, according to your statement your actions against Maverick were done outside of your control?"

"Yes." The seated man snapped, frustrated and stressed almost to the point of tears. "Everything was outside of my control. For weeks I had been marched around like some puppet. Weeks! Do you have any idea what its like to be held prisoner inside your own body? Do you? It's pure fucking hell."

Boris stood silently in the darkened room, observing the scene unfold from his side of the one way glass. Beside of him was Doktor, motionless save for the occasional notes that he would type up quickly on his tablet before quickly turning back to watch once more.

The man, Ian Sanders, was growing ever more agitated as the latest round of interrogation progressed. He was dressed in scrubs, thinning hair disheveled, and his single remaining hand was anchored to the table via a cuff. The sleeve where his other arm should have been hung loosely, a telling reminder of the ordeal that he had survived through.

Boris had been informed that the saving of the man's life had been touch and go for a while. Control had been yielded back to Maverick rather quickly after the raid but the systems in the labs had been thrown into a state of chaos by the forced emergency override. Sanders was a lucky man to have been found still alive and indeed luckier still that the company's onsite medical team had once again pulled off a miracle given the circumstances.

Sanders didn't seem to see it that way however.

At first he had been grateful, not for his life being saved as the man seemed oddly apathetic towards that, but for the freedom of having his body to himself once more. Although once that initial joy had wore off rage had set in. Ever since making it out of the recovery rooms Sanders had been spouting off incessant threats of lawsuits and criminal charges for negligence regarding employee safety.

Boris could not fault him for his ire, though that did very little to ease his headache regarding all the paperwork and legal steps that would have to be taken due to these events. Thankfully the man's combative nature turned defensive and far more cooperative when he realized that he was strongly under suspicion due to the rather unusual information that the Doktor and his team had dug up as they had searched through his mind for any remaining issues due to being hacked.

"And how was this control exerted over you?" The interrogator asked again in that same no doubt infuriatingly placid tone, as he sat with fingers interlaced on the table.

"I've already told you..."

"I know that you have previously stated to have been brain-jacked," The agent interrupted sternly yet calmly. "but we have strong reason to believe that this is not the case. Was this control exerted over you through means of blackmail? Or perhaps a hefty bribe? What did you accept in exchange for aiding the outside agents in attacking Maverick?"

"There was no bribes. There was no blackmail. Like I've told that other guy, one day I woke up and my body was no longer my own." This was punctuated by generous clinking of the cuff fixed to the table as Sanders apparently was a man accustomed to talking with his hands. The loss of one and the confinement of the other seemed to throw him off greatly.

"Mr. Sanders, do you or anyone in your family have a history of mental illness. Or perhaps drug use?"

"Oh fuck you. I want my lawyer." Sanders spat, looking as enraged as a paunchy middle aged man could look. The more he was asked the same questions the more vexed he became in his responses. But despite his agitation the man's story never once wavered in his retelling. Boris knew what the data was telling him, but he also knew people. And judging from what he could see of the man's repeated insistence of innocence, he was inclined to believe him despite the proof to the contrary.

"I ask this not to cause any offense, but because it is the only explanation that is suitable that does not involve you willfully partaking in hostile action against the company. You see, your brain has been looked over quite thoroughly and there was no sign of you ever being hacked to be found." The interrogator spoke slowly with concern, as if Ian Sanders was an ill child lashing out in their confusion rather than a traumatized and frustrated man.

"What?"

"Not only is it exceptionally unlikely that you were controlled despite Maverick's excellent cyber defenses, I find it highly improbable that you were under such thorough control for as long as you stated without any suspicion being raised. That only leads me to conclude that you either did it willfully, were blackmailed, or were in the grips of some sort of mental episode. So which is it Mr. Sanders?"

"I'm not lying." Sanders sobbed, finally reaching the end of his rope. "I'm not lying. I'm not. I'm not."

Boris had decided that he'd seen enough and turned to leave. The sound of Doktor following him echoed down the near empty halls as they left the interrogation room behind.

"I know what you have told me, and I value your input greatly, but I am inclined to believe him." Boris stated lowly, slowing his pace to allow the older man to walk more comfortably beside of him.

"He certainly does seem adamant, doesn't he?" The Doktor nudged up his glasses. "Had I not thought to check already I would have suspected memory tampering. I am not saying that your assessment is false, but I have gone over that man's mind with a fine tooth comb and found no trace of anything amiss. The same goes for that young lady. Has she improved any by the way?"

"No." Boris said solemnly. "She is not well."

The employee in question oscillated between hysterics and catatonia over what had occurred by her unwilling hand. During her more calm moments they had posed some questions to her about what had happened and had received largely similar responses as Mr. Sanders. The only difference was that her stated time under control had only been a week as compared to the several weeks that her fellow marionette claimed to endure.

"You can think of nothing else to check?" Boris stopped walking and fully turned to face the other man. "I thought brain-jacking left distinct signatures. There should be at least whispers of something."

"I'm afraid not." Doktor crossed his arms, tapping the tablet against his shoulder as he thought. "Truth be told this sort of thing is beyond me. I am just a cybernetic surgeon and while I may be very skilled in a variety of fields such a situation falls more of the digital side of cybernetics rather than the organic. My expertise lies in uniting the two. While I may be a trans-humanist, at the moment I am still just a man and cannot give you any further answers. I am sorry."

"There is no need for apology." Boris sighed, rubbing at his worsening headache. It was not even yet noon and already the events of the day had left him pained. "I know I ask too much of you as it is, much less while things in the labs are still in disarray. For this I owe you apology. I can see if others may be able to seek out truth."

"Oh I've already tried." Doktor replied in that gratingly cheerful way of his. "As much as it chafes on one's ego, I was not too proud to admit that I am out of my depth. But even after consulting with the cyber security department, we could find absolutely no evidence of mental tampering. I confess that it is a personal relief that it is not only myself that is baffled by this. Either these two are very convincing lairs or we are up against a type of technology far out of the league of what Maverick is capable to handle."

Boris frowned deeply but did not reply. He had read through the data. He valued the older man's input and perspective. However hearing that the Doktor and the cyber department was helpless to move forward only reconfirmed what he had suspected all along. He was left with precious few options at this point, but that did not mean that defeat was at hand. No, he was far too determined for that. The Russian had an ace up his sleeve that he had been reluctant to play until he had exhausted all other options. Or rather two aces. But it seemed that he had no choice now.

The Doktor continued on voicing his thoughts, heedless of Boris being lost in his own.

"Given what you told me about our covertly gained intel, this is suggested to be a single individual. But throughout all that I have seen and studied with our two patients, this does not feel like the work of a human. To me this smells of AI. Too omnipresent. Too perfect for mere humans. Were it not for the danger and the personal costs, this case would be quite fascinating to study." The Doktor said brightly, thinking of the possibilities.

The implications were uncomfortable but Boris was not about to start jumping to conclusions based off of mere speculation alone.

"Not to discount your theories but from what I've seen everything truly does point to a vendetta against Raiden. He suggested that there are many men that wish him ill, and I am inclined to believe him. In regards to AI's, I only know of two of any significance that he has gone up against. One is long destroyed and the other now plays card games with his son."

"Could be both of our theories. Or neither. One cannot say at this point." Doktor shrugged, not offended at Boris' disbelief, nor deterred from his own viewpoint. "And speaking of, any word about him and the boy?"

"No. And Kevin has not reported back. He would have had ample time by now to do so should the contact point have been abandoned. This is either bad news or good. I chose to have faith in this situation that they were found and tended to by your...ah...man."

The Doktor's laugh was gratingly loud in the empty halls, causing more of a headache to settle.

"The child was quite adamant in that regard. I think we got rather lucky with George volunteering. The boy knows my work well and is far too smitten by Raiden to ever think of betraying him."

"You should not have told him what was going on. I had dismissed him from Maverick for a reason." Boris continued with his progression down the hall. The Doktor looked irritated by the mild rebuke but followed him regardless.

"I told him no such thing. The boy has access to my lab as he wishes and just so happens to walk very quietly. I had no idea he had overheard our conversation. I would say that it was fortune that smiled down upon us as the window for Kevin's departure was narrow and our other employees were under fierce scrutiny. I believe..."

"Excuse me Doktor. Oh...umm..." One of the older man's newest assistants seemingly appeared out of nowhere with a handful of papers. He balked at seeing that he had stumbled into interrupting a conversation with the Doktor and his boss. "I finished those scans you wanted but there's some issues still from the shutdown. I can come back later though..."

Doktor sighed deeply at yet another set of problems being presented before him.

"If I may go address this before it cascades into something far worse…" He turned to Boris, seeking permission to leave the conversation that had already run it's course.

"We can continue going over the situation later." The leader of Maverick nodded and watched his two employees leave. Alone now, he continued his way down the halls, pausing once he reached a set of elevator doors.

There was a warning sign taped over the buttons and caution tape crisscrossing the remnants of the doors. Bladewolf had not been gentle in his desperation to come to Raiden and John's aid and unfortunately for the building, the quickest way up to the twenty ninth floor had been up through the elevator shaft. As a secure area, the labs elevator doors were thickly reinforced but they had not been sturdy enough to stop the determined AI. The collateral damage to the structure had been extensive.

The lights inside were out and debris had littered the floor from the destroyed ceiling of the contraption. What little remained of the doors were covered in deep gouges, each one over a foot long. The solid slabs of metal had been pulled apart in Bladewolf's resolute attempt to escape the labs and get up to where he was needed. Instead of helping provide a degree of security, the sturdy doors had only hindered the machine's ascent to come to the rescue.

Boris hoped that Bladewolf had managed to do so in time.

It had been a perfect storm that allowed the situation to get as bad as it had. Sam absent from the building and Bladewolf down in the labs. It was a very convenient thirty minuet window that his two charges were left unguarded where trouble had come knocking. Very convenient. Boris had learned long ago during his service to the motherland that such conveniences did not exist.

It had to be someone on the inside. Another individual that covertly took part in the raid but remained hidden when things did not go the orchestrators way. Another turned agent left within their fold to seek out opportunities for the Hunter to try again. Boris wanted to trust and rely on his people. The majority of the staff he had hand picked himself, but the man also knew that everyone had a price. Some weak point that under the right amount of pressure would began to fracture. With a heavy sigh the man began to wonder if his company was the right answer to Raiden's problem.

In the beginning it had been most certainly an aid. Maverick had the means and the medical care to get the man back on his feet. They had also managed to protect him for an admirable amount of time considering the capabilities of the opposition. But now Boris wondered if a different approach would be better. He knew from working in this field for many years when one lacked the expertise to get the job done, find you someone that could.

The exhausted man turned away from the disabled elevators, making plans and factoring in variables. As he walked Boris pulled out his phone and entered in a number that had been faintly scribbled on the margins of the hand written intel that he had been given. He did not know if his call for assistance would be answered, nor what repercussions it may bring about, but he was determined to solve this and avenge his people.

-0-0-0-

Thankfully the suffocating heat of the noon day sun had long faded off into the evening, leaving Rose able to breathe far easier during her arduous trek. Unfortunately the glowing orb threatening to hide behind the ridge of the mountains suggested that she would likely have to spend yet another night outside roughing it.

Rose was somewhere in Peru and heading unwaveringly north. She was exhausted from her long journey and worry for her boys gnawed at her heart always, but all things considering she was in rather good spirits. Other than that first clash she had successfully managed to avoid drawing the attention of her pursuer. Rose would have liked to have thought that Hunter had simply lost interest in her but she was not about to become complacent and let down her guard so close to the finish line.

The journey was not a fast one considering how she had to stick to the roads less traveled but still felt that she was making excellent progress towards the states. Rose was mentally crossing her fingers to make it to the cost in Colombia and from there go by ship to the states. Her rudimentary Spanish had got her by thus far but the language barrier made it difficult to hitchhike and manipulate her way into supplies. She felt that once she managed to get to the states that her progress towards Maverick would increase exponentially.

But that was then. She had to take it one step at a time now.

Rose hitched her pack further up on her back and picked up the pace, hoping to reach the next town before it became too dark. South America was undoubtedly a beautiful landscape but she had little desire to see the stars of the southern sky after being spoiled by sleeping under a safe roof for several days.

The woman smiled warmly at the memory of her hosts of the past several nights. At first Rose had been leery of the truck slowing down as it approached while she walked determinedly along the lonely dirt road. Not that she couldn't handle herself, but she had been harassed plenty enough by men during her journey mistaking her for an easy target. Thankfully since setting off from that gas station what seemed like a lifetime ago she had acquired some less suggestive clothes. Unfortunately he new articles of clothing and her pack had been insufficient to hide her form as female.

Sometimes drivers just liked to stare at her as they passed on by. Sometimes they would proposition her. Her Spanish was poor and she was completely ignorant about some of the local dialects but the tone and leer these men had was universal. Fatigued, she had little desire to go through the same old song and dance when her feet were killing her and her stomach was empty.

But she had been pleasantly surprised and warmed by the encounter.

Rose had shied to the side of the road as the vehicle approached hoping that the driver would take the hint and pass her on by. There was no such luck as the sound of the tires crunching away on the rocky dirt road slowed as the vehicle made to pull up right beside of her. She had stopped walking and turned to face whatever would come rather than have her back to them.

Well, it was a man driving but a woman was riding with him along with several children in the back of the truck with smudged faces and bright eyes. None of their expressions hid any sort of hidden agenda, just curiosity with a splash of confusion.

Rose hadn't understood a word of what the man said when he leaned his head out of the window to speak to her. It was one of the local languages and she had been at a loss on how to reply to them as they had all looked at her expectantly waiting for a response. The children even clamored over each other to get a better look at her.

"I'm sorry. I don't understand." Rose had replied, her guard still up but lowered significantly in the presence of the woman and the children. One of the smaller children had gestured wildly at her but had been too excited to form words. Next it was the man, presumably their father, who's eyes had lit up in recognition.

"Ah...um...English! You speak English?"

"Yes. I am sorry that I do not speak your language."

"No no no no. Good practice. yes? For all of us. We teach children so can go to city and get good job." The man had struggled a bit to get the words to come out but seemed so pleased with himself when he did that Rose could not help but to let her frosty guard down and smile at them. He looked as if he were going to say something more but the woman by his side lightly swatted his arm and murmured something to him before leaning over to speak to her.

"You...are lost? Roads have trouble. Is not safe. Do you need help?" Her voice was a small timid contrast to the man who spoke very enthusiastically.

"No. I am not lost." Rose had tried to assure them. It wasn't a very good assurance as it was a bold face lie. She knew where she was heading but it wasn't like she had the option to take the well populated route there. "I am just traveling north." This statement had spurred forth a whispered flurry between the couple. Trying to decipher what she said or plotting, Rose didn't know.

"How far? We take you. We take you. Walking on road has trouble for women." The man had told her as he eyed his fuel gauge. The enthusiasm of recognizing a studied language had seemed to fade off into genuine worry.

"Very far. To the United States." Rose watched as their faces fell once the meaning of her words sunk in. It was very far indeed. But she would get there, even if she had to crawl there on her hands and knees. The journey ahead was no match to her determination.

"You have long road. Come with to house. You rest with us then you go." The woman had told her in a commanding and compassionate tone that only a mother could manage. Rose used it herself often.

Rose imagined that she had looked quite the sight to the couple. Short unwashed hair, now two different tones due to her natural blond beginning to grow out in contrast with the box bleach. Dirty mismatched clothes. And her face which was exhausted, wary, and beginning to become a little lean as there had not been exactly much that she could scavenge or steal on her long road.

The thought of food, rest, and shelter had almost enough to make her weepy in her weary determination. It didn't help that she had ran through the last of her funds the last town over.

"I can't repay you. I have no money." In case her point was unclear, Rose had made a point of turning out her pockets to display their lack of contents. It took a moment for her meaning to sink in. The man made a noise of dismissal.

"No pay. No pay." He had waved off her worries and motioned towards the back of the truck. It had taken the chorus of children cajoling her to join them to get Rose's hesitation to collapse. There had been quite the youthful jubilation as she climbed in the back with them.

The bumpy road had been murder on her poor spine as she sat on the hard metal of the truck bed. Her feet had gleefully took pleasure in another part of her body aching for once as they throbbed where they were tucked underneath her. Not that Rose had been given time or the peace to take proper stock of her various aches and pains during the ride.

During the entire trip to the couples home the children had chattered at her in broken English, deeply enjoying the opportunity to try it out for real. They were sweet and enthusiastic and Rose had gratefully taken in the peace and joy of their company on the rough trip. Heavens knows that she had been around worse company these past few weeks.

The man and his wife, Ruben and Antonia, had welcomed her into their home with open arms. It had been a lovely little spot in a friendly village. Antonia had fretted over her, tutting about how thin she was getting. Ruben made his rounds amongst his neighbors, seeking anyone that may be able to give her a ride north further than the family man could manage. When none could, one of the neighbors had offered up their cell phone for her to use and call help but Rose had declined. She could tell that they were puzzled about her reluctance about the tech but were kind enough to respect her wishes.

That first night in a proper bed, not a slab of thin fabric over a cot or a secure nook between some rocks under the stars, had felt absolutely divine. While Rose had still felt that undeniable desire to get to Maverick headquarters as soon as possible and get back to her boys, once she stopped moving for a while and the ache of journeying set in she recognized her desperate need for a small reprieve in her travels.

Seeing the poor state of Rose's scavenged clothes Antonia had attempted to give the woman some of her own outfits. Unfortunately Antonia was a little wisp of a woman and none of the articles would fit Rose's taller frame. In the end she was gifted some of Rubens's departed brother's work clothes, all stained denim and flannel showing the marks of being well worn and well loved. Upon hearing that it had belonged to a late family member Rose had had tried to protest but they insisted that the man would have given her the clothes from his own back if he were still around and they would not dishonor his memory by denying generosity in his name.

While she had not exactly told any details (and thankfully they had not pressed for any), she told the curious couple when they questioned why she was in the middle of nowhere that due to a misfortune she had been separated from her family and was trying to find them once more. While poor, they offered everything in their limited ability to help her out. Rose had committed Ruben and Antonia's names and address to memory, determined to repay them generously one day for the rare hospitality that they had shown her.

She had been determined to earn her keep while she stayed for those three days but Antonia would not hear of it. As Jack had teasingly called her many times, Rose was quite the stubborn one and insisted on helping out in some way. In the end they came to a compromise, instead of cleaning and cooking her time was spent entertaining the little ones, which she had been assured was more help than they could have asked for. After just a day with the rambunctious brood Rose was inclined to agree.

John had been exceptionally shy and clingy as a child. Given the danger that they were in, he had not exactly been able to go out and socialize with others his age and make friends. She had hoped his days as an outsider were over once he was able to interact with his peers but unfortunately he never learned the fine art of making friends. The boy tended to run too stubborn and temperamental and his teen years combined with moving countries had only further cemented his position as an outsider. It broke her heart that he was always such a lonely child.

It was a bittersweet thing to be watching over the couple's little ones. They ranged from nine to two, all boys with the youngest a girl. They played, they fought, they got up to mischief. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it as one inseparable unit. It did not take Rose long to see why Antonia had been grateful with just entertaining the children for payment.

As the little girl had slept on her lap and the others drowsing where they lay as a nap had struck mid-game, Rose mourned the fact that she would never be able to have another child. Jack was likely not to object but Rose found the thought of going to a clinic distasteful as the child would not be his. The chance at having another child had already passed. In more ways than one. As much as she was loath to admit it, forty was creeping up on her rather quickly and she didn't think she had it in her to go through another nine months of morning sickness.

But still as she had watched the children play she wondered what another child or two would have been like. What kind of brother John would have been. Would he be the overly protective type or the mastermind in all of the mischief making?

The sound of an approaching car pulled Rose's attention from her melancholy thoughts to the here and now. She kept her head down and thankfully the vehicle passed her and drove out of sight on the twisting roads. The men's work clothes and billed cap did wonders in disguising her figure and would thankfully keep the harassment down as she journeyed.

Earlier that morning Ruben had drove her out as far in her direction as he could manage before the vehicle would need fuel for the return journey. A pack with a spare clothes, a blanket, and small supply of food had been gifted to her along with repeated reassurances that she knew where they were if she ever needed more help or a place to stay.

The choirs of young voices sadly bidding her goodbye had nearly been enough to make Rose crack and stay for a few more days. After all of the weeks of rough travel, stress, and paranoia she was so very tired and the kind family was like a siren song to her weary soul. But she had her own family to seek out, and resting would only keep her away from them longer.

As she crested yet another hill on the quickly darkening road Rose could see faintly in the distance a cluster of lights. Her tenacity had carried her through to the next town after all. And from there it would be the next town, and the next. Then the next country on up north until she finally reached the States. Perhaps she would catch rides as with Ruben, perhaps a few more stolen vehicles if she could manage it. Ideally she could catch a ride on a train to the coast and save her poor feet the strain of carrying her the entire way on foot.

But she would if she had to.

She was going to get back to her boys or die trying.

-0-0-0-

Raiden slipped away from the lodge, hardly making a sound on cool bare earth in his passing. The dark of the night was deepened by the clouds covering the moon and hiding away the stars. He made for the hills and plateaus of the wilderness of New Mexico without a glance back.

It was when he passed by a cluster of boulders that the man let out a huff of irritation once he realized that he was no longer alone.

"These barren lands are not exactly an ideal place to slip out and take a stroll in the moonlight." Came a familiar self assured voice that never failed to grate on Raiden's nerves.

The man had been leaning against the large rocks silently waiting in the shadows having spent who knows how long in the darkness waiting to catch him slipping out like a naughty teenager.

"Nothing about this place is ideal, yet here we are." Raiden snipped at the other man out of habit without any true heat, turning away from him and continuing his trek into the night. Annoyingly Sam pushed away from the stone and followed along behind him, apparently not satisfied with the answer.

"What is so fascinating out there that you cannot find here?" Sam continued to press.

"I'm only going to be out for a while. It's not as if I'm running away if that's what you're thinking."

"This is the third time this week that you have been going 'out' and not coming back until dawn. Off to meet some paramour? Does their name happen to be Trouble?" Beneath the snark there was a definite air of curiosity and, if Raiden wasn't looking too deeply into things, an undercurrent of concern.

Either way it still got under his skin. As did everything else about Sam usually did.

"I can't sleep. It's not as if coyotes would be interested in me." Raiden defended, walking along determinedly.

"It is not the wildlife that I'm concerned about." Sam insisted, ceasing to follow Raiden and stubbornly wait for a response. So it was worry. Raiden was slightly put out at being fretted over but he understood it. If their positions had been reversed he also would seek out some answers, and honestly would probably be far more pushy about it than Sam was being.

Seeing as how the other man was at least trying to respect his space Raiden decided to return the favor and assure him as best he could.

"There's no need to worry about me. Wolf's waiting for me. He always comes along when I go out. Caught me long before you did."

Sam did not seem satisfied with this response but did not seemed inclined to argue about it here and now. The man turned with a nod to head back inside.

"At least someone with sense will be out there." The Samurai could not resist one last parting jab before leaving Raiden alone to work through his demons in the dark of the night.

The nightly jaunts had initially begun when restlessness and unearthed memories refusing to be suppressed any longer had kept sleep from him nearly every time Raiden attempted to rest. Rather than waste the night away by tossing and turning in one of the out of the way supply closets that he had claimed as his own, the man preferred to spend his time training to continue to inch towards the seamless function that he once possessed.

It was so close now. Raiden almost felt no hesitation nor resistance at all in his movements, nearly no stumbles or fumbles when his focus was split. But in a fight almost wasn't good enough. Almost got you and the people you were protecting killed. He needed more.

That first night he had become so frustrated at his inability to sleep Raiden had not been at his most stealthy in leaving the lodge. He had made it all the way to the cluster of boulders near the base of a cliff that shielded the two vehicles from view before his senses prickled that he was not alone. Perhaps as Sam would later come to suggest Raiden had been looking for trouble because the realization that a presence was there did not bring him concern but rather a perverse delight.

There had been no sound, nor scent in the air that that gave away the hints of another yet he had picked up upon the presence all the same. That gut intuition, that edge that had kept him alive from his youth up was still there. It may have been blunted by his captivity but determination and necessity had been working towards honing its edge once more. That and willfully delving through his memories to refresh those hard lessons once more that was the source of his restlessness.

At Raiden's pause Wolf rounded the corner into sight, tail swishing in an almost irritated fashion.

"While this area may be isolated it is unwise to wonder off alone." Wolf had scolded as he sat on the rocky earth. The machine's metal face had very little means to emote but disappointment and displeasure seemed to radiate from that blank look.

"It's fine Wolf. There's nothing out here to be worried about." Raiden had waved off the concern and continued to head further away from the lodge. While he had known that Wolf had a point it left him feeling like he was sixteen again, caught and being scolded for trying to sneak out to find cigarettes. It had rankled at him and kicked up long ingrained defiance.

"That we know of." Wolf had got up to follow him, stubbornly refusing to let the subject go. "There may be hidden threats. Potential surveillance. Leaving the lodge is unnecessary."

"It is very necessary." Raiden had snapped at him, picking up his pace in a beautifully unfaltering run towards his chosen destination. "I have been cooped up for years. Three fucking years. And even now that I'm out of that place I'm still being forced to stay locked up. If I don't get to get out without being followed or fretted over I just might lose it."

Wolf did not fall away from where he had easily been keeping pace with him, but he did not speak for the longest time either. It was only when Raiden came to a stop at a shallow ravine that they discovered early on when setting traps and hunting for food did the AI reply.

"Even though I am an AI with a mind unlike any humans I can understand the need for freedom. I also know that such a need can lead one to make...rash decisions. I cannot leave you alone but I can stay away out of sight and grant you the illusion of that freedom you seek. I am sorry for disrupting your need for space."

The mechanical monotone had sounded so contrite that all of the irritation had bled out of the man. Raiden wondered if Sunny had taught the AI to give metaphorical 'puppy eyes' when someone was cross with him or if Wolf had manufactured that manipulative personality trait all on his own. Either way Wolf had stayed several paces back with head bowed so as to not to provoke any further irritation.

Raiden had been uncomfortably reminded of Wolf's confused apology back at Denver whenever he had snapped at the undeserving AI.

"I'm not mad at you Wolf. I'm just unhappy with the situation. I didn't mean to take it out on you." The man had sighed, crouching down to see if the ravine was as suitable as he had initially thought. "I've been very frustrated for a very long time."

"Understandable." Wolf had perked up at the forgiveness. Coming to stand where Raiden remained crouching, Wolf had curiously looked with him down at the gouge cut into the earth by waters of ages past. "What are you looking for here?"

"I need more than rusted out playground equipment if I'm gonna get back into fighting shape. What do you think about this place? Big enough to run, climb, and jump around. And if you're gonna insist on being out here with me what do you say we introduce a bit of sparring? I think I'm finally up to it now. This place here can be turned into a decent gauntlet, if you want to help."

The enthusiastic wagging of the lupine machine's tail had been all the answer that he had needed. And so their near nightly ritual had begun.

Now as Raiden made his way towards the ravine he had no idea where Wolf lurked in the near pitch black night. This was all part of the routine that they had established. In this civilian cyborg model Raiden's senses were less than ideal. This forced him to rely on his other half, his human half.

Gut instincts, intuition, the sixth sense that people possessed and had even been recorded during several studies but had never been replicated in AI systems. This wasn't about upgrades and overwhelming power, this was finding that razor thin wire that divided life from death in the thick of battle and dancing upon it. A hitch of an opponents breathing that told they were about to strike. The slight whisper in the wind that told you to duck or die. It was a dance he knew well and he would be lying if he said that part of him wasn't enjoying practicing the motions of it again.

Passing through the ravine, in which the environment was an obstacle in and of itself, he had no idea when and where Wolf was going to ambush him and initiate a small skirmish. The agile machine could come at him from any direction: above, behind, and several times even from below when he had caught Raiden mid leap.

Sometimes it would be the AI attacking directly with overwhelming force, sometimes Wolf would throw multiple rocks for him to block or dodge. A far cry from the bullets and missiles Raiden had once been accustomed to dodging but appropriate for his current body. He had to start somewhere after all.

If Raiden were honest with himself, simple stone projectiles were preferable at the moment as opposed to gunfire or Wolf's thrown knives as he didn't always quite manage to avoid all of them. Such occasions led to Wolf's repeated and sincere apologies, and the earful that Raiden would have to endure later for getting himself damaged.

George was always there to patch him up, tutting and scolding him like a protective mother hen. Raiden suspected that the boy was secretly glad to be useful despite his fretting even if he didn't like the fact that injuries occur during the training. Naturally his kind and supportive son found the tongue lashings hilarious and the recounting of his fails from Wolf even more so. It was nice to see the boys getting along and squeezing what fun they could out of this dusty place, even if it was at his expense.

Raiden was spared worse damage to himself as practicing hand to hand against Wolf was something that really wasn't going to happen. Of course they could try, but the stark difference in their tech meant that even if Raiden did pull off a successful move he would most likely end up injuring himself on Wolf's razor edged reinforced chassis. Instead Raiden focused on becoming reacquainted with wielding a weapon like an extension of himself once more.

Despite Wolf's suggestion, Raiden was not about to ask use of Sam's blade. Not only did the man need it to potentially defend those at the lodge while Wolf was away, the topic of the possession of the Murasama almost felt to be a taboo subject between the two of them. In fact, all mentions of potentially weighty topics were avoided like the plague to keep the awkward peace. There were snips and gripes with one another aplenty but nothing more substantial than that.

While Raiden missed wielding a sword dearly, the feel of a knife loaned from Wolf in his hand felt equally natural in a deeper nearly forgotten way.

Raiden's determination to be ready for the counteroffensive kept driving him forward no matter how many times he fell, was hit, or failed to fend off one of Wolf's increasingly difficult attacks. Other than working on his agility and acrobatics, most of Raiden's training was done in that dusty old ravine with the machine he called friend.

It certainly wasn't as comprehensive as VR but Raiden didn't want that sort of training anymore. He had to focus on the real. He had to remember the old ways, that same set of rules that formed the foundation of his foe's tactics. It would do him good, keep him humble, to remember what it was like to fight disadvantaged.

He was determined that by the time Maverick came for them and Raiden was put back into a combat model body that he would be ready for whatever Hunter could throw at him. Training with rocks, a blade, and an AI that was afraid to cause him true injury was not exactly an ideal way to regain his combat skills but it was enough.

He would make it be enough.

Upon reaching his destination Raiden readied his knife and slipped along the narrow path into the ravine. There was no sign or even a prickling along his nerves that said that Wolf was targeting him yet, but that didn't mean that he wasn't out there nearby watching. More surefooted now than ever, Raiden ran as lightly as he could manage, hopping from one boulder to the next.

Sometimes Wolf liked to wait until he was nearly at the end of the passage with his nerves wound tightly before springing his attack and ending their little cat and mouse game in a flurry of clashed blades. Sometimes it was a nonstop assault from start to finish that left him mentally exhausted but satisfied in a way that only a good fight could manage.

There was the faintest whisper of sand on steel that suggested that tonight was not going to be one of the tension filled nights wondering where Wolf lurked. As Raiden ran along the twisting rocky way the sounds of the night creatures faded away. Instinct might not tell them how to interpret these two beings crafted from metal but there was no denying that a hunt was going on and an attack imminent.

Gripping the borrowed knife tighter, smooth metal of the hilt wrapped up with the faded golden threads from the fallen banners, Raiden fought to hide a smirk. If Wolf thought that he was going to be taken by surprise tonight then he had another thing coming.

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Authors Notes: I'm still kicking y'all. Hand still hurts and typing is slow but I'm getting better. A little late on getting this chapter out but I managed it in the end. It's a bit of a slower chapter but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless.

P.s.- The sweet couple that Rose meets was inspired by the family of that Reddit story/comment "Today you, tomorrow me." If you've not read it before I highly recommend it. It's a moving reminder of humanity and generosity that I think everyone should read.