Death and the Vibrant Architecture of Rebirth

by goldenyuusha

A century had passed since Zero had sealed himself away. After being awoken by the Neo Arcadian king X, Zero finds himself in an unfamiliar, perfect world with no one to turn to but his old partner. But cracks start to form in the perfect things he once held dear, and Zero must accept that they may be set in stone forever. An MMZ AU where Neo Arcadia finds Zero before Ciel.

15. Chapter Fourteen

AN: hey everyone. wow only been five months between updates, pretty good by my standards. still doing my phd, still busy, it is what it is

in this episode: craft and zero get a wiggle on. hope you enjoy

---

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Craft knew the world needed changing. It had to, or there would be no future to look forward to.

From the highest echelons of Neo Arcadian bureaucracy to the most disposable of recruits, it was all gripped by a nationalistic poison, corrupt beyond conceivable repair. To him, there were two options; remain under X's genocidal, apartheid government until the energy crisis reached a critical point, reared its ugly head and drove Neo Arcadia and the last gasps of the human-like population to complete destruction. The second; wait for some kind of righteous uprising to return the land to its original state, like the biblical flood of Genesis, and hope whichever yeoman was tasked with remaking the world knew what they were doing.

Whichever the case, when the ship that was Neo Arcadia began sinking, if it wasn't already, would humanity sink with her?

There were times, especially when Craft found himself back in the grips of Neo Arcadia under Zero's supervision after he'd been captured, where he contemplated, was our people worth saving? Neo Arcadia was the final vestige of the short-lived Anthropocene, and yet, humanity still lacked the strength to learn from their bloodied history. They remain submerged, under the metaphorical ocean of faith and devotion to their martyrs- to the android Prometheus, Master X. The man who, so blinded by revenge he couldn't see his own hand in front of his face, nails those who oppose him to the cross while he speaks of grace and justice.

The legacy of his submission and fear under Neo Arcadia prevailed in his brave heart, even now, when he knew he did not need to trust the supposed immaculity of the city's guardians. The sad misconception lingered within him- could it be that people were condemned to this cycle of catastrophe and rebirth? And could man not choose his own destiny in this inevitable succession of life? He was not old enough to remember the world before Neo Arcadia, but he was aware of the endless wars that came before him, ones that burned the Earth to ash and forced new ideologies to flourish, only to lead to the same outcomes, over and over again. Organised religion, monarchy, empires, democracy, capitalism, every civilisation would doom itself. Even the most peaceful empires would fall one day.

What was the point in resistance, trying to change how things were? Resistance or not, Neo Arcadia would fall and no doubt take millions with her. The indoctrinated minds at the heart of Neo Arcadia would happily die with their kingdom.

If Neo Arcadia's collapse was inevitable, and humankind died out (he hoped not, Neige was a human too), reploids were no more righteous, no more immune to fault than man. What was stopping this from happening again? Apartheid, genocide, war, apocalypse, rebirth… was it all that man deserved?

What a pathetic cycle. Try as he might to make his life mean something, he was just another compliant cog in some great machinery.

"Ow."

It was hard to not lose hope. There were things he could be happy about. He had managed to get out of the citadel, that was good. Neige was alive and free. Zero was not like X at all. He was happy he was with the Resistance again. And yet, he still felt passive. Time had passed, things had happened, and he was still in here, among the always thinning Resistance, X was still in his ivory tower, sanctioning mass murder at the hands of the armed forces, most of Neo Arcadia was still starving and miserable and living in fear of airstrikes, and the energy crisis was still an inevitable conclusion to X's style of government.

"Agh."

Could he outwardly say he had largely given up on the idea that the world could change? No, that would be wrong. He didn't want to bring Zero down with him, even if he was already feeling the same genre of helplessness. He knew that, for some reason, it was wrong to fall victim to despair. Perhaps, maybe he was incorrect, and people could be better.

"Ahk!"

The people of Neo Arcadia were the last people on Earth, separated from certain death only by a thin wall of concrete. Certain death, in the grips of a scorched, wartorn wasteland, that was the fault of no one else but man, just like every other terrible cataclysm in their history. What business did he have trying to change that? He was created for the sole purpose of destruction. If it wasn't for humankind's propensity for war, he wouldn't be alive. He wasn't made to be good. He was just like everyone else.

Have any of our actions really changed us, who we are?

"Ow! That fuckin' hurt, Cerveau!"

"Please! It's not like I'm trying to screw up here. Just try and sit still, would you?"

Craft had been stuck laying down flat on his belly for two or so hours on a pretty uncomfortable operating table, fully conscious as Cerveau poked and prodded at the back of his neck. Right where the prongs of his restraining bolt latched onto his body. With nothing else to do but sit and endure the pain, his thoughts had begun wandering.

"Oh come on, you'll be fine. When did you get so soft?" came Neige's biting voice at his side. "Looks like living in Neo Arcadia's rubbed off on you."

Craft couldn't move his head to look at her, but he could hear her smile as she spoke. He couldn't laugh with a scalpel so close to his spine and six or seven cables fastened to his insides.

"Easy for you to say. You're not- ow, getting your shit rearranged by an old man."

"That 'old man' could paralyse you from the neck down right now if he wanted to, you realise," Cerveau advised. "Can you move your fingers for me?"

Fingers wiggled at his side. Cerveau made a hum of approval and got back to work. Craft had to count his blessings that Neo Arcadia opted for cheaper options when it came to his restraining bolt- unsurprising, considering their resource deficits, settling for a rather basic repeating ESD device that discharged into his vertebrae. It could be disabled with enough fenangling, but the process didn't feel amazing.

With every one of Craft's pained huffs and groans came a sly giggle from Neige. He harrumphed. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Probably. But I spent months thinking you were dead, so I'm gonna stay here and look at you for as long as possible," Neige said. She was fiddling with something, maybe her camera.

Cerveau snipped something, and Craft felt a sudden impulse screaming down his neck, back and to his each and every biomechanical muscle within him, the sensation wringing at his nerves and squeezing them tight, before the pain dissolved away, like a flash of lightning.

His HUD flashed red with exogenous error messages from the fitted device.

ESD SYSTEM 12.322E: CRITICAL ERROR WAS DETECTED.

TROUBLESHOOTING FOUND: PHYSICAL OBSTRUCTION TO OUTPUT AREA ENCOUNTERED.

FAILURE TO INITIATE INHIBITIONARY MECHANISMS TO: ALL LIMB FUNCTION.

[MEDIAN MOTOR NEURAL ACTIVITY READINGS: 42.2%... 34.36%...21.83%...]

COMMENCING ESD EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN PROCEDURE. REBOOT WILL PROCEED FOLLOWING RESOLUTION OF OBSTRUCTION.

MANUFACTURED WITH PRIDE IN NEO ARCADIA.

[×]

Craft collected himself, and Cerveau moved off him to attend to his computer, his vitals splayed out on the monitor for all to see. "And you aren't bored?"

"Hah, of course I am," she replied. "But if I could be bored with anyone, I'd want to be bored with you, Craft."

Even when he was face down and being operated on, Craft couldn't help but smile stupidly whenever he heard Neige speak. Her accent suggested Lebanese, but there were hints of a little bit of loose French-Canadian in every other word she said. Craft liked that about her.

"You know, they say being bored is a privilege," Craft recalled. Neige waved him away.

"Really? I wouldn't have considered myself to be too privileged," Neige said. Craft rolled his eyes, though she couldn't see him do it. "Besides, I'm very exciting, don't you think?"

"Of course I do. I'm just saying, I'm happy you chose to share that privilege with someone like me," Craft continued. He'd do anything to be able to look at that beautiful face of hers. Just like everyone else born into the melting pot of Neo Arcadia, she was of no one particular race, her skin was a warm olive tan with a spattering of freckles on her shoulders and cheeks, eyes as blue as the ocean to their East and shortish hair a brilliant red, like cinnabar.

In fact, he'd do anything at all to move anything, right now.

"...I can't feel my legs," Craft mumbled, face stuck pressed against the table like a corpse in the water. Cerveau stiffened as though he got hit with a taser.

"Ah, fuck."

Craft managed a short, huffy laugh. As dire as his situation was, at least it was funny to hear Cerveau curse. He stumbled out of his chair and rushed away, stopping at the door before he did and speaking over his shoulder. "Sorry about that. I'll be back in a moment, I'll fix that right away…"

He was gone, clambering into the hallway like a deer on a hardwood floor. Craft took in a deep breath, held in, and deflated with a deep sigh. Neige leaned back on the creaky old chair, the frame groaning under her weight.

"Don't you dare make fun of me," Craft threatened, though it lacked any real bite. To his chagrin, Neige had already started, and while he couldn't see it, he knew she already had that look on her face.

She let out a stifled laugh that sounded more like a hum. Craft, unable to do anything else, just slowly shut his eyes. "Why did I even let you in here?"

"You didn't," Neige answered. "Not like I'd listen anyway."

"You wouldn't," Craft said. "And I'd probably do the same thing for you."

Neige chuckled, her smile creeping into her voice. "You're so cute."

She was the only person who could get away with saying that.

"Pain in the ass, though," she added for good measure.

"I appreciate it," Craft said regardless. He turned his head as best he could to meet Neige's gaze, cheek pressed flat on the table.

"You know, if there's something you wanted to get off your chest, now's the chance."

"Huh?"

"If there's something-"

"I heard you the first time," Neige elaborated. "Why are you asking?"

"...We haven't really had a moment alone together since I came back."

Neige took a second to think about it. "...Huh. That's right. Zero's become your little shadow."

Craft breathed a heavy sigh. "Sorry about scaring you. Getting caught back in the brig, I mean. I wasn't thinking straight."

Neige let out a half-hearted laugh. "You're never thinking straight…"

"But I was! I was thinking of you. I was… afraid… of what they'd do to you."

For once, there was no sly response from Neige. She dipped her head, evading his gaze.

"...I'm glad you're still here, Craft."

She looked down at her camera, fiddling with the settings. She cleared her throat.

"I suppose you must feel indebted to Zero," Neige said.

"...Well, yes, of course," Craft replied. "He saved my life. The only thing I can do to return the favour is to offer my indentureship."

"And now you have to choose, right?"

Craft furrowed his brow. "Choose what?"

"You know Zero isn't gonna stay here. He can't," Neige stated calmly. Craft never really thought about it, but now that he did- there was little reason for Zero to remain in the confines of the Resistance bunker. He could not contain him here, not when he had gone through the trouble of escaping Neo Arcadia in the first place.

"No, he wouldn't," Craft muttered to himself.

"Ciel's been talking about it, where to go from here with Zero," Neige said.

"You think he's going to leave," Craft guessed, to which she nodded. "And you're asking me if I'm gonna go with him. Is that what you're asking me?"

Neige grit her teeth behind her lips.

"You know, you have the opportunity to make your own decisions, now that Cerveau's done away with your… limitations," she loosely gestured at her throat, where Craft's restraining bolt was still fixed to him. "You can go wherever you want. Do whatever you want. You don't… need… to do whatever- or be wherever- Zero tells you to anymore."

Craft deflated with a sigh. "Yeah. That's true."

There was a short, thick silence as the two ruminated over the matter. Craft pursed his lips and pressed his forehead against the operating table.

"That's true… I'm a free man."

As free as a person who was wanted by the state as a violent terrorist could be, at least. Neige put the camera she was fiddling with aside.

"You're not staying, are you?"

Her words hung heavy in the air. Craft closed his eyes slowly and thumped his head against the table.

"I don't think I can," he murmured, voice gravelly and barely a whisper. Neige remained silent, leaving room for elaboration. Gingerly, Craft turned back to meet Neige's gaze.

"I've been here for years, and nothing's changed. Nothing at all. If anything, it's gotten worse. Axl is dead, Neige. He's gone, and now it feels like we've all lost direction. What are we supposed to do? It feels like we're beyond saving."

Craft paused to breathe. "I think I just need a change of scenery… wherever Zero is going, it's bound to be away from this place. That's all we can do for ourselves." He willed himself to relax his jaw. "I've been thinking of exile. I need to get away from this place… find out who I am. What I want out of this."

Neige's throat bobbed. "I… I get it."

"I wish it was different. The last thing I ever wanted to do is run away from you. From this," Craft said. "But something is telling me that this is the right thing to do. When I was with Zero, when I saved you, I realised something- that when I hurt people, I didn't feel anything. I can't go on like that."

"...When you know you know," Neige said. Craft dipped his head and let himself smile. It was something Neige had said to him long ago, and it remained something they'd parrot often.

"When you know you know," he repeated. "I messed up, Neige. I've become someone I don't like. Someone you don't like. Someone who turns fear into violence." He closed his eyes tight. "And I'm scared, I really am. The world's ending, Neige."

Silently, Neige rose from her chair and found his side, kneeled down and rested her hand on his shoulder. "I know."

"I don't want to hurt you," Craft said. "I know it didn't work out, but I still love you."

"Is this an apology?"

"I wanted it to be."

Slowly, she draped herself over his limp torso, cupping his head in her delicate hands. Tension gently left his body, like a taut rope finally allowed to hang loose.

"I still love you too, big dog…" she murmured. "Always will. No matter what you do, where you are."

Craft closed his eyes and smiled. "I'll miss you," he whispered. "You make this place home."

"But it isn't home." She straightened herself. "Not for you, not for me either." Gently, she jostled him, urging him away in all senses. "Go. Go make home for yourself. Go make yourself the person you want to be. I'll be here, fighting for us."

She rested her cheek in the massive crook of his neck. "Go and be free."

---

'Quickly, Zeezee!"

Alouette was heavier than she looked. The little girl was scrambling up a kneeling Zero's back, throwing her legs over his shoulders. The war hero stood up with a groan, knees threatening to buckle before he could straighten them.

"That way! Hurry, we're gonna miss them!" Alouette commanded, pointing over Zero's head down the endless ceramic and fibreglass corridors. Zero huffed, picking up the pace as much as he could with a squirmy little girl sitting on his shoulders.

"...Why couldn't Mister Craft carry you?" Zero wondered aloud. His hair was tangled in her little, tugging fingers. "You know I'm old…"

"Because–! Because he's too big and tall, it's too high up there," she reasoned, "you're the perfect size, Zee."

Mister Craft himself, leisurely walking at his side, just grinned smugly and said nothing.

"If you say so…" Zero murmured, "remind me where we are going again?"

"The muster room! Down there!" she answered, her legs swinging against his chest with uncontained eagerness. "Quickly, Menart's gonna beat us there!"

"I hear you…" Zero assured, a little exasperated. He'd grown familiar with Alouette's little gaggle of orphans, Menart included. He was a troublemaker, a little lazy, a bit rude, but a good kid. He asked Zero to teach him bad words in German. Didn't all Reploids have a universal translator?

Despite the attitude, Zero was curious as to what demanded their attention so dearly. The day had been uneventful up until that point.

The muster room was a small chamber on the second level down, just to the side of the transerver. In a way, despite being devoid of everything but the bare necessities- a first aid kit and a shelf filled to the brim with all sorts of things from food to weapons to power tools, it was claustrophobic, and the air was a little stale. Noise had nowhere to go but off the walls, and so, even from a fair distance, Zero could hear the cacophony of several different voices layered over on another until all the words became one single incomprehensible sound.

"Alouette, what are we walking into?" Zero asked. By the tones of some of the voices he was hearing from afar, they were in various stages of panic and despair. He thought for a moment whether it was an appropriate situation for her.

"I don't know!" She giggled. Zero let out a forceful sigh, blowing his fringe out from over his face. "But I heard Ciel said new people are coming down from the city today!"

Craft knitted his brow. "Fresh meat, huh? What's the occasion? Ciel just finish a recruiting blitz or something?"

"I said I don't knoooow," Alouette replied, unhelpfully, but all the same. "So you're gonna help us find out!"

"What do you mean, us?" Craft said.

"Well, the rest of my class is gonna come and see what's going, silly."

"Be nice to Mister Craft, Alouette," Zero chided gently. Craft made an amused sigh.

"Thanks for defending my honour, Zero," Craft said. Alouette harrumphed and pouted.

"But Neige calls him that all the time," she rebutted. Zero grinned.

"Just because it's correct doesn't mean you should say it outloud," he said. Craft suddenly looked plenty indignant.

"You–!" He shut himself up before he could incriminate himself further. "Hey."

"You make it too easy," Zero said, to Craft's chagrin, though he was all too fine with letting it go. Even if Craft wanted to fight, Aluoette's voice would put it to an end quickly.

"Hey, look! Look!" She pointed urgently, and both their gazes followed. From the approaching muster room emerged Neige, along with the local nurses Zero had begun to grow familiar with, hurriedly ushering Resistance troops and what MeReAD dictated were civilians away. She was wearing a dirty blue vest with 'PRESS' written on her back in bold letters and a navy blue helmet, her chinstrap loose. Zero doubted the Neo Arcadian forces cared too much. "Neige is back! Quickly!"

She kicked her heels against his chest like he was a race horse. "Neige? I thought she was busy on the surface," Zero asked.

"I thought so too," Craft said after swapping glances. They didn't waste time after that, rushing towards Neige and the muster room. She turned to meet them as they approached.

"Craft, Zero!" Neige called out, sounding breathless. The two slowed to a stop in front of her.

"What's going on?" Zero asked, crouching to let Alouette disembark his shoulders. A cursory look into the muster room revealed a crowd of reploids standing shoulder to shoulder, dishevelled and exhausted and covered in filth and muck, with more streaming in from the transerver room beside it. Neige took a moment to catch her breath and wipe the sweat and dust from her brow before answering.

"Neo Arcadia– they attacked the Bosaso Strip, forced everyone out their homes, my God–" she keeled over and put her hands on her knees, exhaling a gravely breath. Craft made himself level with her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Slow down," he said. "What do you mean, a siege?"

"Haven't you seen the news?" she asked. Indeed, the bunker did have access to a stream of state controlled media on the few televisions they had, but Zero had taken to tuning it out so as to not get completely and utterly depressed. "They– they enacted the Siegfried Protocol in the strip, Craft."

Zero narrowed his eyes. "Siegfried?"

"The military is seizing the area. It means Neo Arcadia's one step away from complete and full destruction of the district," she explained, eyes glassy and wide. "No one can stay. The workers- anyone they're deeming capable, they're being shipped away to other sectors. Everyone else- kids, old folks, the disabled, mothers– they round them up, put them in cages…"

She kneeled and put her hand over her face, wiping it down. Zero looked to the crowd of newly christened refugees filter in, not one having gone unscathed, blood still drying over razor wire scars, where shrapnel buried into their bodies and where rubble had fallen. The worst of them, the ones the medical staff wasted no time in carting away- it compelled even Zero, who bore witness to the end of the world before, look away. The smell of burning artificial flesh permeated the air. Zero stepped in front of Aluoette.

"We did everything we could to save as many of them as we could," Neige said, kneading the bridge of her scrunched nose. "But there were so many we had to leave behind. We could only do so much."

There were children left alone with only the clothes on their back and whatever toy they happened to be cuddling as they slept, elderly reploids hunched over in chairs, parents hysterical in grief. All so skinny and sickly, dark circles under their eyes revealing histories rich with turmoil. Zero swallowed thickly and looked at his feet.

"You did good, Neige," Craft assured, rubbing the small of her back. She shook her head and let out a choked sob.

Zero grit his teeth behind tight lips. No matter how hardened he had become over centuries of strife, one thing never changed- he hated to see someone break like this.

"Zero!"

It was an unfamiliar voice that startled him back to reality, angry and gravelly from a woman who had her arm, bloodied and crushed, dangling loose at her side. She was seeing red, eyes wild and quivering, charging towards Zero despite a limp in her leg.

"You motherfucker, how dare you–!" She wailed, both medics and civilians coming to hold her back. "This is all your fault, you bastard– you monster–!"

She flailed wildly, ripping herself from the grips of her apprehenders. "This is all your fault! It's all because of you the soldiers came here, you never should've shown your fucking face in Bosaso!" She was red in the face, she was breathless, tired, face wet with tears and snot. "You should've just left us alone! It's because of you that my husband, my baby is dead!"

Zero stepped back, pushing for Alouette to get away.

"Everything, everything is your fault! I should kill you! I should kill you like a dog–!"

Zero shook his head desperately. "I-it's not like that, I–"

"Just leave us alone! If you'd just stayed away, they'd still be alive…" her voice was beginning to wear thin. Words were stuck in Zero's throat, mouth going dry. "I hate you."

"I'm sorry. I- I didn't want it to end this way–"

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Zero, don't…"

Ciel, emerging from the transerver room, pushed him aside, escorting the woman away to seek medical attention. Zero felt sick. At his feet, Alouette had her hands over her ears, already having broken into tears halfway through the incident. Zero knelt down and allowed her to cry into his shoulder, picking her up off the ground and carrying her away, hushing her as she wailed.

"I'm sorry, Alouette," he whispered, curling himself around her to shield her from it all.

Zero never had a penchant for children. Maybe he was getting older and softer, but Alouette had managed to wriggle her way into his heart quicker than anyone else ever had. He didn't want her to hurt. He didn't want anyone to hurt.

All the lost children he had just seen were no different to her, they all had parents who loved them, they all had dreams and aspirations and toys they loved so much they broke them. Every life was an entire world, and X was hellbent on destroying every last one.

Zero shut his eyes tight, holding Alouette close. He didn't know what to do. She didn't talk about them much, but it was clear, at times like these, she wanted her parents back.

It was hard not to think about what the stranger said. It's all my fault. I ruined everything.

"Zero…"

As Aluoette's cries dwindled, Ciel approached him alongside Craft and Neige. Zero took a deep quivering breath to settle himself. "Yeah…"

"Zero, you…" Ciel set her jaw and tried to fill her chest, trying to find confidence. "Zero, I think it's time you should go."

Through her sobs and whimpers, Alouette spoke up. "N-no!"

"I know, Ciel," Zero said. "I'm sorry. I've done enough damage here."

"No… p-please don't go yet, Zeezee," Aluoette pleaded to deaf ears. "I w-want to know more about your world."

"Alouette, he never could've stayed forever," Ciel tried to reason. "You knew that."

"Please, Zee. Don't go yet," Alouette weeped, ignoring Ciel wholly. "I don't want you to die, too."

Zero felt a pang of sorrow hit him right in the chest. What sort of world had a child so hung up on death? She should've been worried about school or her friends or playing. Gently, Zero set her down on her feet, where she immediately wrapped herself around his leg and flopped, carrying him down with all the weight in her little body.

"Believe me, I don't go down easily, Kindchen," Zero promised, stroking her head. "Neige, do you have a spare data drive?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got loads…" she flung her backpack from her shoulders and rifled through her things before handing him a tiny flash drive. Zero flicked open his wrist console and plugged it into himself.

"Here, I went through my archives for you," he said, uploading a sizable folder onto the drive. "I want you to keep this, okay? It's all the books and movies from the old world I have. Before the war."

He ejected it and handed it to her, the little girl hesitantly taking it and holding it close to her chest.

"You like to read, don't you?" he asked. Alouette nodded slowly, eyes still glossy with tears. "Well, someone I knew liked to read too. His favourite was this one, The Wizard of Earthsea."

She wiped her face and sniffled. "Thank you, Zeezee."

"It's nothing," he assured, grabbing her shoulder and jostling her around, making her crack a small giggle. "Hey, don't you cry. I'll come back, okay? And when I do, I'll beat up those bad people so you and your friends can go play on the surface again."

He pressed his fist against her chest and pushed her away playfully, getting a fuller laugh out of her. She was as cute as a mouse.

"Good. No more tears, okay?" Zero said. "You be good, now. Go be with your friends. We can say goodbye when it's time. Understand?"

"Yeah," she mumbled, drying her tears on her shoulder. "Bye bye, Zee…"

"Great. I'll see you when I go. Now go on, git. Or I'll tickle you. Rahh!"

Like a cobra, Zero struck, tickling her tummy and making her squeal with giggles. "Nooo! Not the tickle monster!"

She was quick to run away after that threat, though she turned to wave them all goodbye before she disappeared into endless hallways. A silence fell over them, and Zero got to his feet, breathing a dejected sigh.

"Sorry about that…" Zero said, rubbing his neck. "I shouldn't have brought her."

Ciel straightened her lips, staring at the nothingness to which Alouette had run off to. "She would've followed you no matter what you told her," she said, speaking from experience. "She's seen it all before, as terrible as it sounds. She just got upset when that woman screamed at you."

It didn't really make Zero feel any better. Craft crossed his arms and raised his brow at Zero.

"Alouette's taken a liking to you," he said. "I thought you said you weren't good with kids."

Zero shrugged. "I'm not."

Ciel put her hands in her pockets, looking listlessly at the muster room. Slowly, the chaos began dwindling as the refugees came to terms with their new lives. "I'm sorry if she's too much," she said. "Look, she… she was very close to Axl, you know."

Everytime Zero thought he'd found peace with what happened to Axl, reality would come crashing back down on him. "Ah."

There was a contemplative pause before she decided to continue. "I hope this doesn't sound weird, but you're a splitting image of her mother."

Zero blinked. "...Okay."

"Yeah, so uh…" she looked at the ceiling and let out a puff of air. "Just promise me you'll come back to us in one piece. Alouette would never forgive me if something happened to you, too…"

In his previous life, X always asked that of him, and everytime, Zero said he'd never make a promise he couldn't keep. Now, all Zero could do was let out a hollow laugh. "I'll do what I can."

---

Leviathan wasn't sure if she should be happy that Fefnir showed up to bother her.

The smog that lay over the Outer Sectors had been only slightly lifted at Harpuia's command, but that only meant the red hot sun beat down on the land unimpeded. Any water had dried up, weeds shrivelling and the air shimmering with heat. The dirty asphalt beneath her was almost too hot for Leviathan to stand still. There were flies everywhere, a miasma of sewage, industrial pollution and war hanging over. Wherever she walked, squeaking mice and rats scrambled away into rubble and debris.

There were hoards of reploids among them- workers from the strip with their hands in shackles, soldiers and police officers watching over as they moved in single file lines onto trainers. Their heads were bent down in shame, misery, anger, it didn't really matter. As long as they were scared, that was enough for Leviathan.

"Working hard, or hardly working?" Fefnir was at Leviathan's side, appearing from somewhere in the ruins of Bosaso. It was so hot, Leviathan was pacing to keep the ground from burning her wide flipper feet.

"It's killing me out here…" Leviathan groaned, head tossed back. Her sensors were telling her it was 48°C, not a droplet of water in the air. She wiped the sweat from her brow. "This place is miserable."

"Really? I think it's fine out," Fefnir said. Leviathan breathed out, leaning on her staff. "Maybe a little balmy. How are things going out here?"

"Good. For me? Terrible. This place stinks," she grumbled, kicking rocks. "Why me? Why can't you or that lazy bum Phantom take over?"

"'Cause we're busy, that's why," Fefnir answered. Leviathan huffed, swirling her staff before whacking her brother on the head. "Hey! What the hell–!"

"I was busy too, jackass! 'Til dad dragged me to this cesspit. I was supposed to light the torch at the Jackrabbits game the other day," Leviathan complained, "then all of a sudden, I'm up at dawn, ferrying these losers away. What gives? This is something even a dumb pantheon could do…"

Fefnir growled, rubbing his sore head. "I can make things get a lot hotter around here if I wanted to, Levi…" he snarled, fangs bared. "I was busy too, just so you know. We all were! Besides, they're going to the water purification plant just West of the strip. You're the most qualified person I know to be watching over this!"

Leviathan pouted, slotting her staff behind her back and crossing her arms. "Thanks," she replied. "Say, if you're so busy, why are you wasting your precious time annoying me? Don't you have anything better to do?"

A crowd of civilians, those not deemed useful enough to be granted exemption from their death, had gathered behind a barbed wire fence. Children, mothers, elderlies- anyone who couldn't be trusted to reliably pick up a powertool. What a shame for so many lives to go to waste. Of course, they were only Outer Sector Reploids.

"Harpuia told me to clear out my men from the Southbound bridge. There was a riot picking up," Fefnir answered, leaning on the fence. "So I did. You should blame him."

"Oh, wonderful. You get a break but I don't?"

"Tough luck. Hah!"

Leviathan knitted her brow and scowled, like she was doing her best impression of her father. "Why you, I'll wipe that smirk off your ugly face…"

"Ugly?! We're related!"

"Well you must've missed out on a couple genes."

They both harrumphed and looked away before they could do anything stupid. "Whatever. I don't suppose you've seen Zero either," Leviathan said. Fefnir sighed.

"Nope. Probably isn't here anyway," Fefnir answered curtly.

"No kidding. You've seen dad?"

"Levi, I've been trying not to. Everytime he gets pissed off we haven't found anything," Fefnir said. "What am I supposed to do? I ain't search and rescue."

"Then how about you deal with this and I go take care of that riot and look for clues?" Leviathan suggested. "Think fast!"

Before Fefnir could refuse, Leviathan had thrown him a tablet. He couldn't do anything but catch it.

"Hey!" Fefnir barked. "You–!"

"Tough luck. Haha."

"You're cold," Fefnir growled.

"Sure am," she said. "Besides, it's only fitting that someone with actual brains lead the investigation."

Fefnir looked like he would catch fire any second. "Are you calling me dumb?! I'll have you know I'm a million times smarter than you, fishface!"

"Oh yeah? How come you came last in our fantasy league last year? You still haven't paid us, by the way," Leviathan huffed. "I'm waiting."

"I've come in first for the past five years! Not my fault half my lineup got drafted into the war–!"

The scream of drones flying overhead put an end to their little squabble before it could get out of hand. Both looked overhead, gazes following their trails closely.

Fefnir put his hands on his hips. "Woa. Harpuia must be on the case already."

"No wonder he wanted the skies clear. Ugh, so hot…" Leviathan blew out a sharp exhale.

Fefnir cocked a brow. "Maybe those new retina scanners he's been going on about can find Zero faster than we can. Then we can move on with our lives and forget about this whole stupid situation."

"Hmph. You'd hope so. Stupid things cost so much, I had to cut funding for the stadium down near the station. Ptuh!"

Fefnir groaned, collapsing to the floor and sitting cross-legged. "Of course it did. That Harpuia, always getting what he wants. It's like our dad doesn't even know we exist sometimes."

"Hey. Don't say stuff like that. Of course he cares about us!" Leviathan scolded. "He just… has a lot on his mind right now."

She scratched her neck awkwardly. Fefnir put his chin in his hand. "Sure he does. What, you think as soon as we get Zero back things are all gonna go back to normal? 'Cause they're not. We're gonna be doing this-" he gestured around him, at the flattened city, the train full of detained workers, the undesirables left behind, waiting to starve or be incinerated, "-a whole lot more."

"Isn't that a good thing? We've been putting this off for a while now. Getting control of this place. Shitty as it is," Leviathan said, "see? Now that we've reclaimed this land, we can show those mavericks who's in charge around here. Right?"

Fefnir's frown deepened. "You think?"

"I thinks," Leviathan replied. "Come on, cheer up!"

She kicked him playfully, but the mountain of reploid didn't budge. "Man, I wish I could be as optimistic as you sometimes, Levi.

"Oh please. It's not optimism, it's just knowing. Look, as soon as we're done here, we can go annoy Harpuia at the incineration plant. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Fefnir's downturned lips twitched into a devious smirk. "Heh. Doesn't it just–"

There was an explosion somewhere close by, loud enough to kill any other sound in the area, plunging the scene into silence. Leviathan and Fefnir swiftly got to the ground, flat as the shockwave rushed through, throwing the uninitiated to the ground.

Their audials rang with the blast, but other than a little kicked up dust and trash, everyone looked fine. Leviathan and Fefnir got up, shook it off, and looked overhead to the plume of smoke now emanating from the explosion's epicentre. Fefnir wiped the dirt coating his face before swiftly taking to his comms system.

"Harpuia, was that you?!" He yelled into his microphone. To his surprise, Harpuia was quick to answer.

"Yes. I took care of your little riot problem," he replied coolly. He must've been circling overhead somewhere. "I suppose a thank you is in order,"

"Fat chance, birdbrain," Fefnir replied, sour. "Those mavericks were mine!"

"Not anymore. How much time did I save you?"

Probably a lot, but that wasn't the point. "Whatever, man. Just warn us next time."

"And let a maverick intercept our communications? Such risks are unnecessary."

Fefnir looked around at the squalor and misery these reploids were living in. He doubted some of them could even write their own name. "Yeah right. As if these low-lives got the means to do some shit like that," he dismissed.

"Underestimating these mavericks is what got us into this situation in the first place," Harpuia mentioned. "I'm only doing you a favour."

His definition of favour was unclear to Fefnir. As the two squabbled, the crowd slowly recovered from the effects of the blast, silence replaced with soft whispers and murmurs.

"Hey!"

Leviathan's attention instantly pivoted to the yell. From the chaos, a fair distance from where she stood, a worker had managed to slip himself from his shackles, shouldering his way through the herd of incarcerated. He'd pushed aside a soldier and made a beeline for the fence, clambering up the wire with no concern for the razor wire that waited for him.

"Well, well, well… finally, something to do around here." She flashed a toothy smirk, reaching for her staff.

"Get down!" The soldier commanded, pointing his rifle at the escapee. He didn't pay him any heed, powering through razor wire even as it sliced through his uncovered flesh. Leviathan whistled at the trooper, signalling him away.

"Watch and learn," she said to no one really, adjusting her grip on her polearm, lifting, readying and aiming. Fefnir looked up from his wrist console, where Harpuia's voice was still yapping.

With marksman precision, she flung her javelin, watching it cut through the air like a bullet, where it landed right into her target. It pierced the runner through his chest, pinning him firmly to the fence. In an instant, his arms fell flaccid at his side, all the fight and vigour he had in him dashed within seconds. Just as the blast had done moments ago, the crowd had gone dead silent.

Fefnir's brow rose. "Nice one."

"I know," Leviathan replied. She casually sauntered over, through the line of cowering prisoners to behold her handiwork. "I suppose we won't see any more silly behaviour today, will we?"

She turned to the crowd. They said nothing.

"Will we?"

Everyone nodded and murmured a yes. She smiled.

"Excellent!"

She called for her weapon, the javelin unsheathing from its target and returning to her hand like it was a magnet. Leviathan twirled it, flicking off the blood before putting it away. The maverick fell from the fence in a heap at her feet. She just rolled her eyes and kicked it towards the pantheons for removal.

"Aww. Such a shame. Could've lived to see another day if you weren't so confident," she mused, watching closely as the pantheons collect his body and whisk him away. "But all you've done is rust the machine with your blood."

Her subjects flinched and shrunk away as she left for Fefnir's side, the sea of men parting for her. Scared, just as they should be of Neo Arcadia's glorious might.

"There. Taken care of," Leviathan said, patting her hands clean. Fefnir looked up briefly from his wrist console, shooting her a short grin and wave before returning his attention to the call.

"What, so you took out the Southbound bridge?" he asked. Harpuia's disembodied voice was still answering.

"Yes. Master X's orders."

He looked exasperated. "I- you know, I had tanks parked out there."

"I know. My men have control of the old airport near the coast. You may cross the bridge nearby."

"You're kidding me."

"Take it up with our father if you have a problem," Harpuia replied. "That was the bridge Craft travelled in from. The more escape routes we eliminate, the easier we can find Zero and bring the maverick to justice. Simple strategies of divide, compartmentalise, and conquer. Even you can understand that, can't you?"

"Of course I can!"

"Good. Then I should hear no more complaints from you," Harpuia said. Fefnir grinded his teeth. "May we recover Zero swiftly and shed this distraction with haste. I'll see you tonight at the rendezvous point."

The communication cut off there, and Fefnir huffily snapped his wrist console shut. "Stupid little kiss-ass…"

The train, filled to the brim, had its doors pushed shut and locked by soldiers before being sent off, departing for some other outer sector cesspit that needed workers to turn the gears of the government. Thousands of lives disappeared into the bleak, grey horizon. Somewhere, the chimney of a distant incinerator billowed with smoke, its belly full from a fresh shipment of scrap.

–

There was no hot water in the Resistance bunker, but considering it may be the last shower he'd have in a while, Zero decided it was worth it to bear the cold.

He was awake early, probably before daybreak on the surface, according to his chronometer. He couldn't really sleep. At that hour, the daunting endless hallways of the base felt emptier still, the air stagnant and lights powered down for the night. The walls were far too small for comfort and he yearned for the sun on his face once more, but there was a part of him that didn't want to leave it behind.

It wasn't meant to be. The bitter glares he received in the halls grew ever colder following the attack on Bosaso. The open-armed welcome the Resistance had granted him prior was no more. They knew he could do nothing for them but bring unto them even more suffering at X's hands. It was time to go, and return only when he had found his place in this world.

He'd left his things in Craft's room, last time he checked. The lights were on in his quarters but his berth was empty with its owner nowhere to be seen. Zero hadn't spent all too long in Craft's room, he didn't really find the need to. Ciel had assigned him a room close to her own, just to keep an eye on him.

The room was awfully cramped and tiny for a reploid of Craft's giant build. Zero wondered if he could even lay down flat on his own bed. Every single inch was occupied by something: weapons, medical supplies, piles of old documents collecting water damage, accumulating bits and pieces stripped from larger machinery. The important things must've already been packed for the journey ahead, save for his laser cannon. He had a few photos stuck to his locker where Zero had crammed his bag. The picture was faded and ripped at the corners, but Zero could make out Neige sitting on his knee daintily clear as day.

Sometimes, Zero wondered if he should feel bad about it- taking Craft away from the woman who he obviously loved. He rarely said as much in front of him, but Zero had been around the block long enough to know it when he saw it. He took his bag from the locker and shut it.

"Oh. Zero, you're… up early."

Zero jolted in place, his heart skipping a beat. Of course, it was only Craft. Zero sighed and turned to meet his gaze.

"Yeah, I-"

Craft was standing stiff as a board in his doorway and only partially dressed. His mess of black hair was still damp from a shower. Zero looked him up and down.

"Well, good morning," Zero said, pulling up a chair. He was a little too tired to care. Regardless, he wasn't… not good to look at. He was broad shouldered, toned, and muscular under his armour and bodysuit, lightly tanned skin covered in scars and a smattering of body hair. Craft would get over the initial shock, shutting the door behind himself and drying off his hair in a towel. He had everything below the waist covered, at least.

Craft tossed the wet towel unceremoniously onto his bed. "How'd you sleep?"

"Terribly," Zero answered.

"Great. That makes the two of us," Craft said. He pulled open a drawer with the toe of his boot and took from it a roll of bandages. "Nervous?"

Zero shrugged. "Don't know if I'm any more nervous than I'm supposed to be."

"I get it. I don't wanna go either," Craft said. Zero never really noticed, but his hands were covered in calluses and scars. He was missing the tip of his right little finger under his armour. Craft wrapped his knuckles in layers of bandages before Zero could stare too long. Zero slumped over and rubbed his tired eyes.

"And it's not like I want to stay, really," Zero continued. "I know this is what I have to do."

"Nothing comes easy. Even the things that should, like leaving the things you know are bad for you," Craft tore the bandages from the roll with his teeth. "Don't worry too much. If you could rely on anyone to get you out of here, might as well have it be these folks."

Craft slipped his bodysuit over his head, tucked it into his waistband, and the gun show was over. Zero put his chin in his hand. "So, are you really expecting me to trust someone like Vile?" He wondered aloud. "It's not like we left on amicable terms."

When Ciel had first disclosed the identity of her Rebellion collaborators, Zero thought it was a joke. Then he thought it must have been someone else taking up the moniker as a sort of symbolic gesture. But no, as Ciel explained further, it became abundantly clear to Zero that indeed, the Vile he had grown so familiar with in his earlier years. How Vile, and Dynamo for that matter, managed to elude death for so long escaped Zero. Surely, Neo Arcadia's hostility towards mavericks would've caught up to them.

As he pondered that question, Craft clasped his armour onto himself, thick metal locking into place. "Uh. I guess you can't," Craft finally, and unhelpfully, concluded.

"And how do you know they'd even want to help someone like me?" Zero steamed on ahead, incredulous. "Vile almost killed me! More than once!"

Craft sweeped his hair back and slid his helmet over his head. "...Well, yeah. I can't promise that," he admitted, "but Ciel can cut off aid to the Rebellion on the off chance they don't cooperate. It's in their best interests to swallow their pride and do as she asks, even if it means helping you."

If anyone, it would be Zero who would be the one swallowing his pride. Fully dressed, Craft slung his bag over his shoulder and got up. "I know it's cold comfort, but I've worked with them many, many times before and trust me, whoever they were in the past, they aren't like that anymore."

"Easy for you to say," Zero murmured. He took the hint, collecting his things and leaving for the door. "I'm only doing this because I trust you."

Craft made a face. "I… appreciate that," he said. As he walked out, he stopped to stare at his massive laser cannon, propped up against the wall. It stood about as tall as Zero, if not a little taller. "I know it's not ideal, but it's the only option we have right now. The Resistance has their hands full."

After a moment of consideration, Craft decided he would take the World Ender with him. By Zero's estimates, it must've weighed half a ton, and Craft scooped it up and holstered it against his back like it was a standard issue rifle. As one final touch, he adorned his massive green cape attached to a high, grey collar. It made him look bigger than he already was. Craft opened the door for Zero, motioning him through.

"I can't believe it's come to this. Asking those people for help," Zero grumbled with a harsh scowl on his face. "I'll look pathetic."

Before leaving his room for what could well be the last time, he snatched the faded photograph of Neige and himself and stashed it away.

"Hey, talking about people you apparently know, you never told me about your deal with Spider," Craft said, hoping a topic change would lighten Zero's mood. Zero's mood seemed unchanged.

"Spider…"

It sounded like he was spitting a curse word. "I met Spider in Giga City during the Epsilon incident, must be a hundred or so years ago now. It was a little bit before the Elf Wars, before that technology had been developed," Zero began as the two made off into the halls. "He was just some bounty hunter who made friends with X while the first Rebellion was after him. I never trusted him, turns out I was right to do so. We were being strung along by Colonel Redips, he was using the person we called 'Spider' as a disguise to spy on us."

"That makes no sense. Redips is dead. On the moon. No one's gone further than the orbital spire in Central in years."

"And I thought Vile was dead too, once," Zero rebutted. Craft tightened his jaw.

"Spider never talked about it. Mentioned he had a brother once," Craft clarified.

"Sure, maybe the first Spider I met was a reploid unto himself, but how I see it, where Spider ends and where Redips begins doesn't matter. They're all just lowlife traitors."

Craft frowned. "Don't forget, we're lowlife traitors too, now," he said, "Look, maybe it's hard for you to parse since you weren't around, but a century's passed since you disappeared. These people, they've changed. You gotta let them change, or things are just gonna stay the same."

Desperately, Zero wanted to snap back with something sassy or blunt, but ultimately, Craft was right. He didn't have to do much else but look at what X had become to know that. Zero just had to man up and take it.

"Whatever you say, big guy," Zero said, very much through gritted teeth. "How did Spider end up in a union anyway?"

"From what I've been told, he saved about a couple hundred striking OSA workers from dying to a riot squad. He's been with them ever since," Craft answered. "Never said what he was doing before. It's not our business to know, anyway."

Maybe so, but Zero was always a little nosey. "Fine. Guess he and I need to have a long chat about it next time we meet," Zero conceded bitterly. "Ciel is awake, right?"

"Should be. She told me she'd meet us at the transerver room in ten," Craft answered, happy to talk about something that wouldn't earn him Zero's ire. They stopped at the elevator lift, already at their level. Craft pried open the doors and motioned Zero in. "After you."

"Thanks."

The elevator was old and rattled when it started up, and it sure didn't make up for it in speed. "I told Alouette I'd say goodbye before we left. Didn't realise we'd be going so early. I feel terrible now."

"She'll be awake. She wouldn't miss it for the world," Craft assured. "Alouette doesn't get to say proper farewells often."

"...I don't want to leave her," Zero admitted. "I don't want to leave anyone, really. Maybe that's my problem. I always leave or stay when I shouldn't. Alouette is just so sweet. I want to just… fit into their lives, be like everyone else."

The elevator doors opened to more hallways. Light spilled into the dark corridors from the gap in the transerver room doors. Craft looked aimlessly to the side and scratched the back of his neck.

"Zero, do you… want… kids?"

The gasp Zero let out was almost comedic. "Craft!"

"Woaahh, hey… it's not like that, I'm just asking in general," he said, "you've been so good to Alouette, you know. I don't know how you do it. It's like it just comes to you so naturally. She was scared of me for months when we first met."

"That's because you are scary," Zero reminded him, "Alouette is a good kid. She's easy to like, that's all…" Zero paused to steel himself, "look, if you want an honest answer, then sure, I wanted to have kids of my own. I really did. Things just didn't work out. What kind of horrible person would I have to be to force another life into this terrible world, anyway? The only person I ever loved enough to even contemplate having a family with became a dictator. I've stopped thinking about it. It'll never happen because it was never supposed to."

Craft nodded slowly. Zero wasn't exactly convincing in his assertions, but Craft didn't prod. "I see," he settled on. "I guess I never thought about it much myself. Neige is a human, I am not, and we're not together anymore."

When they got to the transerver room, Zero jumped ahead of him, turning to face him head-on with a coy look in his eye. "Looks like you'll just have to put up with me instead," he jabbed, punching open the door to the transerver room before Craft could say anything else.

At this hour, there was only one operator manning the teleporter- the blonde one, Zero remembered hearing Ciel call her Jaune. She perked up at their entrance, offering them a beaming smile. There were two other reploids there who had been chatting with her beforehand. Two Resistance soldiers, a taller man with a stern look about him and his compatriot, bound to a wheelchair. He had his goggles hanging loose around his neck.

"Good morning, Craft, Zero," Jaune greeted, clasping her hands over her console. "I'm afraid Ciel isn't here yet, so I cannot see you off. She'll be just a moment."

"It's no problem at all, Jaune," Craft said. The two soldiers with her turned to face them, their faces lighting up instantly.

"Zero!" The reploid in the wheelchair scooted himself up to him, meeting him in the middle. His friend was at his side the entire time. Beneath his green Resistance garb were scars from laser fire banding around his wrists and ankles. "Sorry, do you have a minute to chat?"

"For sure," Zero said, outstretching a hand for him to shake.

"Thank you. My name's Colbor." The soldier, Colbor, shook Zero's hand firmly before motioning to the other.

"I'm Faucon," the taller one, Faucon, said in kind, taking Zero's hand to shake. His voice was deep, big enough to fill the soldier. Zero gave a shallow nod and smile.

"Suppose I don't need to introduce myself. Nice to meet you," Zero said. "You look like you have some history."

Cold disposition lifting, Faucon let out a hearty chuckle, leaning over the handle of Colbor's wheelchair and resting his head against his. "You could say that."

Zero adjusted his collar. He wasn't sure if they were an item or he was looking too much into it. "We wanted to talk with you before, but things kept getting in the way and I never found the time to meet with you. Ciel said you were leaving today, so, uh, I guess this might be the last chance I'll have to speak to you," Colbor said. "I just wanted to thank you for coming, you know. Seeing things from our side and all. I knew you were better than what X said of you."

Zero didn't show it, but he was offended by the notion. No one spoke for him but himself. "It's the least I could do. I'm just sorry I couldn't do more for you."

"It's alright. Sometimes things are just… out of our control," Colbor said. Zero swallowed nervously and looked him up and down.

"Is it rude of me to ask?" Zero started. Colbor laughed.

"Not at all. Everyone asks at some point," Colbor replied. "It actually happened on the mission to get you, before Neo Arcadia recovered you from the underground lab. See, we figured you couldn't have been dead, just wasn't possible. We'd been looking for years, and then when we finally figured it out, of course Neo Arcadia just had to intercept. X, uh… he did this to me. I'm pretty lucky to come out of it alive."

He leaned down to pull up his pant leg to show off the extent of his scar. It was from a buster, clear as day, spanning all the way up from his foot to his knee. Zero winced. "Jesus. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't shoot him," Faucon cut in. That was true, but Zero really wished he was there to stop X from pulling that trigger. Faucon put his hands on Colbor's shoulders reassuringly. "He's still with us, that's all that matters."

"And as a matter of fact, you've still ended up with us regardless," Colbor pointed out. He was awfully cheery for someone in his situation.

"Guess I am. Still, just wish you didn't have to go through all that," Zero said. "I just don't know how you can still stand me with all the trouble I've caused you guys."

It was Craft's turn to interject. "Zero, don't blame yourself too much," he said, patting him on the back. "Neo Arcadia forced your hand in this."

"Yeah, the last thing I want to do is make you feel any more guilty than you probably already are," Colbor reaffirmed. "Hey, um, I wanted to give you this, Zero."

He awkwardly reached for a satchel hanging from the armchair of his wheelchair and procured from it a dagger slotted firmly in its sheath. Colbor offered it to him on open palms.

"This belonged to my friend, Milan. He was killed during the mission to find you," Colbor explained as Zero took the weapon from him. He removed it from its sheath and found the handle to split into two identical laser daggers. They powered on, revealing bright cyan blades. "I haven't been able to use them since I got injured. I didn't want them to rot away in my bag. I thought you might like them."

The blades must've been old- pre-Elf War, from just a basic eye test. Zero inspected the handle to find the text HANDCRAFTED IN TEHRAN inscribed in delicate Persian lettering along the bone-white carbon fibre.

Zero waved around the twin daggers carefully, feeling out the way they handled. They flowed around him like silk ribbons in the breeze, so naturally acting as an extension of Zero's movements. He cracked a smirk. They was no Z-sabre, but the craftsmanship that went into these daggers was no joke.

"I'm honoured," Zero said, voice soft with reverence. He powered them down and slotted them into their sheath and into the holster at his hip. "Thank you, Colbor."

"Please… if it could be anyone I'd entrust Milan's memory to, it'd still be you, Zero," Colbor said. "Faucon and I wish you luck on your journey. I hope you can come back one day."

"Oh, we will." Zero looked at Craft and smiled. Craft returned it after a pause. "It was a pleasure to meet you two. I'm sorry this all happened because of me."

Faucon shook his head. "Don't you worry. We're tougher than that, Zero."

Their indomitable spirits made that much clear. Zero made sure Milan's blades were hilted firmly at his side.

"Oh, wow, you two are already here."

Ciel came through the doors with Cerveau and Neige joining them at her side. Zero inspected Ciel's legs, looking for any sign of Alouette. "Colbor! Good to see you. It's been a minute since we've had a chat, hasn't it? Been so busy."

"Tell me about it," Colbor said. Zero deflated, his spirits dampened when Ciel had stopped in front of him with no sign of Alouette to be seen. "I wish I could've spent more time talking with Zero here. You must know so much about the old world."

Zero offered a half-hearted nod. "Yeah. Didn't appreciate it enough when it was around," he murmured pensively.

Just when Zero lost hope that Alouette would be there to see him off, a blur of pink ran through the transerver room doors and found herself at Zero's feet. Alouette practically latched her arms around Zero's leg.

"Zeezee!" she exclaimed, full of boundless energy despite the hour. Zero laughed and kneeled down to scoop her up.

"Oh, little buddy…" Zero was almost squealing, his coos was so soft. "I thought I'd miss you."

"No way!" She yelled, snuggling his face like an overbearing labrador. She paused for a moment to look around at the collection of bags at their feet and pouted. "Wait. Are you going now?"

"I'm afraid so," Zero admitted, sombre eyes darkening. "I'm sorry Alouette. I wish I could stay for longer but I don't have a choice. I need to do what's best for the people here."

"B-but… we'll miss you," she whimpered. She gripped his vest with balled up fists. "You'll come back, right?"

"Of course. We just need to go for a while, okay?" Zero said, placing her down gently. "You be good to everyone."

Alouette stood up straight and proper, like a little soldier standing at attention. "I will!"

Jaune cleared her throat. "We're all set for departure," she said. "Ready when you are."

"And- and thank you for fixing Kitty," Alouette got in, cognisant of the time she had left. "And for all the books and movies you gave me!"

Ciel had crouched down to Alouette's level and patted her on the shoulder. "He has to go now," she whispered soothingly. "Don't you worry. Mister Craft will be with him."

Neige had stealthily made her way to Craft's side during the commotion, showering him with her own unique style of affection before he left with Zero. Alouette scampered over to Craft's feet and pointed defiantly at him. "You better make sure Zero doesn't get hurt!"

Neige and Craft exchanged glances before looking back at the fiery little girl and chuckling. "Believe me, he won't let anything happen to him," Neige promised, reaching up to grab Craft's cheeks and pull him down to her height. "You've got a soft spot for pretty faces, don't you?"

She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. Craft's face went entirely red, much to Zero's amusement. Alouette just grimaced and turned away, feigning a gag.

"Blehh…" Alouette groaned, returning to the PDA-free zone of Zero's vicinity. "We'll miss you, Zeezee. Stay safe, okay?!"

"Yes, yes, I'll be okay," Zero reiterated before getting to his knees and opening up his arms. "Now come here."

She ran into the hug hard enough to almost send him on his back, earning a full-hearted laugh from the cold and reserved reploid. "Bye!"

"Awh man, don't make it harder than it already is…" Zero cooed. He distanced himself and ruffled her hair, motioning her away. With her infinite youthful energy, she ran over to Craft as well, hugging his leg.

"Bye-bye, Mister Craft!" she exclaimed, not having fully tamed her inside-voice. Neige put her hand on his arm, supposing it was time for her to say her farewells too.

"I'll miss you too, pup-pup," she whispered. "Don't kill yourself."

"I won't," he promised. "Sorry I couldn't stay for longer."

Neige managed a gentle smile. "Every second I get to spend with you is a gift. Wada'an, Craft."

Alouette ran back to Ciel, allowing Neige to bring Craft in for a tight hug. "Go on, now. You're holding up Jaune."

She said that, but she didn't want to let him go either. Eventually, they had no choice but to pry each other from their embraces and step away. Ciel looked back at Neige and Cerveau, then back to Craft and Zero.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye, for now. Come, I'll accompany you," Ciel said, stepping onto the transerver platform. Zero and Craft collected their things and joined her at her side. "We're all set to go, Jaune. Anything urgent you guys need to get off your chest?"

Zero let out a deep sigh, tension in his chest escaping. "Thank you for having me. I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. I know this wasn't what you expected from me."

Cerveau shook his head and smiled, crows feet creasing under his visor. "You've given us hope, Zero. Isn't that something?"

Maybe it was. Zero nodded his head slowly. He had been in this position before, and yet, he felt nervous like it was his first time saying goodbye on a teleporter. Craft put a reassuring hand on Zero's shoulder.

"We'll be back," he promised. "Let's just say we're on sabbatical."

"Ready when you are," Jaune reminded. "You'll be sent to the warp room in North Sector-E, the Bosaso Strip."

The representatives of the Resistance waved them goodbye. Their smiles had a sense of sorrow at seeing him go, but still, they were full of hope. Cerveau had his head up high.

"We'll take it from here, Zero," he said. Zero bowed his head with humility, before giving the thumbs up to Jaune.

"Departing now," Jaune announced, initiating the transerver warp drive. "Stand still and hold your breath. On the count of three-"

"Goodbye!" Alouette cried out, waving wildly. Zero waved back meekly.

"-Three. Good luck out there." In a flash of light, Craft, Zero and Ciel were dragged from the inner sanctum of the Resistance bunker, away from Neige, Cerveau, Alouette, from everyone they'd come to be familiar with over the short week or so, back into the unfortunate reality of the surface world. Of Neo Arcadia.

…

The room they arrived in was different to the one they'd come in from. Still, it was dark and decrepit, a waterlogged boiler room of a long since abandoned underground system. A single light flickered on in their presence, bathing the room in dying fluorescent light. Zero sniffled, feeling something run down his nose.

"...Um. Guess you're not used to riding the transerver system," Ciel muttered sheepishly, pointing at her nose. Zero wiped above his lip and looked down to see he had smeared his hand with a thin streak of blood. His throat bobbed.

"Is that… supposed to happen?" He asked. Ciel shrugged.

"When Jaune said to stand still and hold your breath, she wasn't just making a joke. Our gluon stabilisers can act up sometimes." She motioned the thought away. "Anyway, come, I'll tell you everything on the way. It's not a good idea to stay in the same place for too long..."

The room was guarded by two doors- a heavy, impenetrable door that slid aside when she punched in a long and confusing passcode. The second was the original door, unremarkable and probably as old as the original city. Ciel grabbed a key amongst thousands hanging from her belt and jostled open the rusty old lock holding the door shut. It opened to a long abandoned office building that had been colonised by squatters. At least, it was- though there were blankets and bags scattered around the place, there was no one around. Not a soul for as far as Zero's sensors could scan.

"How are we supposed to avoid being spotted?" Zero asked.

"Carefully," Ciel answered, "lucky for you, I've taken a few extra precautions to deal with their surveillance methods. May we switch to Standard?"

[DWN-Zero-Zero-Zero. Can you hear me?] Zero asked over their personal connection.

[K-Nine-E. Loud and clear,] Craft answered dutifully.

[G-Seven-E. Thank you,] Ciel piped in. She scurried into the shadows, gesturing for them to follow. [Come with me.]

From broken windows, Zero looked out to the vast Bosaso strip. It was still dark out, the orange light of the rising sun barely visible over the horizon's edge.

Zero felt his heart sink into the pit of his belly. The old city was not particularly sightly before, but it was like he had emerged straight into hell. Nothing was spared- factories, offices, residential buildings, hospitals, schools, it had been entirely levelled. There was nothing left behind but rubble and rebar that reached into the sky like crooked metal claws. Smoke still billowed from where bombs had been dropped and air strikes levied. Trucks were already ferrying away the debris, piles of concrete mingled with the remains of those who couldn't evacuate fast enough.

Ciel was calling for him, but panic was starting to set in. Zero couldn't look away, eyes wide and listless, breath shallow and quick and not enough to fill his chest. Unwanted memories of the Elf Wars came to him. There was a constant buzzing of drones overhead, streaks of white phosphorus lingering in the sky.

[Come here!]

His saviour, Craft, had grabbed him and dragged him away before he could fall into a catatonic state. They pulled him aside into an alley behind the building through a hole in the wall.

[Breathe!] Craft commanded. Zero let out a heavy, shivering breath, as if he had just been saved from drowning. [What's wrong?]

The shade of the claustrophobic alley provided a welcome relief from the horrors that awaited on the surface, and with time, Zero calmed down quickly. [I don't know. I don't know what came over me.]

Craft's gaze roved up and down Zero's face, before fixing itself at his feet with a sigh. [Yeah. It's bad. Worst I've seen. But we gotta keep moving.]

He patted Zero on his shoulders before moving out the way, letting Ciel address them both. She scanned the area before projecting a hologram map from her wrist console for them to burn into their memory. [Vile and Dynamo will meet you here, in South-East Sector G. They'll be in this residential compound, number 29. The main bridge between the interchange and the national highway was taken out just recently, the one you came in on. Not like I'd recommend you'd have gone that way. I've devised some alternative routes for you that'll keep you- mostly- out of the way of scheduled pratols. If you could take off your helmets…]

Taking off any more armour was the last thing Zero wanted to do in a combat zone, but he and Craft did as told, setting it aside in his bags. [Are you really sure about this?] Zero asked. Ciel cocked her head at him as she rummaged through her things.

[About what?]

[Sending us off to Vile,] Zero said, though he mostly meant himself, Craft had no reservations about the Rebellion collaborators. [You think he'd want to help me? He hates me!]

Ciel's lips twisted into an uncertain grimace. [I told him you'd be coming ahead of time,] she revealed. [I know you two have some history but I assure you, his quarrel is with X.]

[Yeah right. He tried to kill me,] Zero bemoaned. [This is ridiculous.]

[These are ridiculous times,] Craft reminded. Zero decided it wasn't worth it to go on about it. He reached into an armour compartment and fished out a flimsy, beat up carton of cigarettes and jostled one out into his open palm. [Beggars can't be choosers.]

He lit up with a tiny lighter in his thumb, one drag enough to settle him down. Zero sighed and ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. After a hot second of rummaging, Ciel procured a plastic container filled with a garish, electric blue paint.

[Close your eyes, please,] she asked. When Zero did as told, he felt two fingers paint a streak of cold, viscous paint straight down the length of the right side of his face, from his forehead, over his eye to his chin. Zero clenched his teeth at the feeling. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Ciel doing the same thing to Craft.

[What's the point of this?] Zero asked. The paint dried quickly, not smudging when Zero poked at it.

[Asymmetry messes with Neo Arcadia's military facial recognition tech,] she explained. [Let's go. Your bike should be down the road, Craft. Faucon moved it for you.]

[Oh, goodie,] Craft said, as cheery as he possibly could in a place like this. [Send him my thanks.]

She was off, motioning them to follow. As she turned a corner, she slowly and silently armed her buster cannon. In the distance, Zero could catch the marching of incoming platoons and demolition vehicles working away at the break of dawn.

As they snuck through decimated streets, Zero wondered if that worker who tried to take more than what had been rationed to him was still alive. Was his sick child still alive, his wife? Did illness take his daughter before Neo Arcadia could kill her too? Zero didn't know what was worse, to think they had all been killed, or that the father was left alive with no one left to come home to.

Zero knew there were still people buried under the rubble. He could sense their breathing and dwindling body heat. Some still yelled out with faint breath, begging for help that would never come, trapped alongside the bodies of loved ones.

How could X do something like this? Zero wanted to vomit. The stench of death was everywhere.

Through the shadow of alleyways, away from Neo Arcadia's prying eye, Ciel led them into the remains of an office parking lot and down into the basement levels. It had been busy, once, cars and bikes left where their owners had left them when the evacuation order had been given. The basement had been spared from the destruction, relatively safe from the volley of missiles overhead. There was a sense of dread in the way doors had still been left opened, keys still left in their ignition. In the corner, next to the elevators, was a hidden, inconspicuous ride chaser covered in a dirty tarp.

[Ah, there she is…]

Craft approached it with open arms like he was greeting an old friend, pulling off the tarp with a ceremonious flare. Underneath, a dirty, green military build bike was unveiled to no fanfare whatsoever. Zero furrowed his brow and put his hands on his hips.

[That isn't your bike,] Zero said blankly. Craft laughed, then kicked the chassis, the disguise fading for just a second to reveal the red ride chaser they had come in on.

[Sure isn't,] he quipped. He turned to Ciel with a sense of finality about him, leaning on his bike and taking a long drag from his cigarette. Smoke rolled off his sigh. [Guess this is it for now.]

Ciel dipped her head, solemn. [Guess it is. I can't do anything more for you but ask my soldiers on the ground to look out for you,] she supposed. [I've got to go now. Stay safe, you two. Maybe we'll meet again some day under better conditions.]

Zero mustered a smile rich in humility. [Thank you for having me,] he said, [and thank you for fighting for these people. I'm really proud of you.]

[...That means the world, coming from a hero like you,] Ciel said, clasping her hands with a smile so wide she was squinting. Zero shook his head and let out a huffy chuckle.

[I've never considered myself a hero. I'm just like you, Ciel. I've only ever fought for the people I believe in,] Zero said. [See you around, doctor. Don't get yourself hurt out there.]

Ciel bowed. [Farewell.]

With that, she turned, shooting the two a bright-eyed grin one last time before she ran off, leaving Craft and Zero alone together once more. Zero swallowed down the lump in his throat and massaged the bridge of his nose.

[Looks like it's just us again…] Zero said. Craft tossed the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stamped it out.

[No point in waiting around. We're sitting ducks.] Craft squirrelled away his belongings into his hammerspace system and swung his leg over his bike seat, scooting forward to spare some room for Zero. [Well? Hop on.]

The sooner they were out of Bosaso the better. Zero climbed on, sitting flush and secure against Craft's back. At the press of the ignition button, the bike rattled and fired to life.

[If we don't run into any trouble, we'll be there by the end of the day,] Craft guessed, turning out of the parking lot and into the open air. The sky was still dark, but light blue light began bleeding into the empty vast void. [Hold on tight, little fox. You'll be safe with me.]

It was all in the hands of fate, and Craft's driving, now. All Zero could do was trust in the Resistance, in Ciel, in Craft, and as much as he hated to admit it, in Vile and his Rebellion.

---

The unempathetic sun rose on Neo Arcadia again. The old city of Bosaso had been reduced to smoldering ruins overnight. Its residents had been either carted off in chains elsewhere, apprehended and sent to the incinerator, or killed in the demolition effort. Zero was still missing. Craft was gone.

Despite how fruitless it all seemed, Harpuia would see through to it. He would not disappoint his father.

"This is unacceptable. Completely unacceptable."

X had been marching back and forth in front of his four dutiful children at day break. He seemed bigger when he was angry, red eyes bright and vicious and wild.

"You have the full might of the four armies at your disposal, you gave all the surveillance in the world, I've let you flatten this strip. It's been almost two weeks, and yet, you come back to me with nothing. Does that seem acceptable to you?"

They would say nothing. None of them, not even the big-mouthed Leviathan dared to. They hadn't slept since they had been deployed to Bosaso, hadn't eaten anything substantial, hadn't had a break.

"Good. Because it isn't. It isn't acceptable," X would continue. "Leviathan, I want you moved to the Eastern Sectors. Fefnir, you stay here. Phantom, join your men in the South-East Sectors. Harpuia, I want you in the skies."

Harpuia was soaring overhead, scanning the remains of Bosaso like an eagle searching for its prey. The land was pock-marked with craters from missiles, buildings reduced to beige dust. It was almost like he was looking at the surface of the moon.

"Look. Zero's collar may no longer have remote tracking, but it should still have proximity detection. That can only be disabled by direct tampering with the device. This transponder should beep if you get close. Understand?"

He shoved the transponder into Harpuia's hands with a hostile glare. "The eradication of Bosaso will flush Zero out. I know it will. Don't disappoint me again."

The transponder device was sitting quiet in his wrist compartment. Desperation had brought him closer to the interior regions of the Outer Sector, away from the industrial districts and into urban, residential districts. There were drab and dreary apartments for as far as the eye could see, the highways cutting through highrises like a river through a towering rainforest.

It was brighter in North-East Sector D. Busier. People, reploids, still roamed the streets, selling food and tech from quaint little stalls, LED signs advertising everything from sports betting to clothing brands to government-mandated calls for enlistment. The reploids here were skinny, dirty, mostly addicts and junkies. Nobody who would be sorely missed if this district was to be razed.

The storm that seemed to follow him around had come with him to this sector, skies overcast with dark clouds, rain beginning the drum off his armour. Harpuia banked right into a valley between apartments, wings brought in tight against his body as he swept through, finding nothing but garbage piling up and young reploids loitering around, waiting for something to happen to make their lives any less miserable. He swooped through a tangle of cables and clothes lines, hoping the transponder would go off any second.

He wasn't going to let X down. The residents, having been brought outside to take in their laundry, stood up as Harpuia flew past, kicking up a gust in his wake that had them knocked onto their backs.

Nothing. All was quiet in the skies above the outer sectors. It was about time he moved on.

He made a steep turn, heading to the Eastern outer sector.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

His transponder came to life singing in his wrist console. Harpuia flared out his wings coming to a hard stop in the sky.

Fortune favoured the persistent.

---

The good news was that Craft and Zero had escaped the besieged city of Bosaso without incident. The bad news is that they had to switch trajectory after just barely avoiding detection by a pantheon squad and head inward, closer to the Wall and into residential zones. While there were less soldiers to avoid in the interior north-east sectors, it made up for it in regular civilians who would not above reporting them for a bit of the reward money.

They had to stick to side streets and alleyways, snaking between apartments on ride-chaser. To make it worse, Craft had to drive carefully as he meandered through the piles of trash and occasional fence gate that littered the alleys here, slowing their pace to a crawl.

The constant changes in direction had them going in circles. There were pantheons on every main street, ensuring their route to the South-East sector would look more like a knot than a straight line.

Eventually, Craft and Zero found themselves stuck in one of the alleys between apartments, finding refuge in a small inlet leading to a fire escape. There were soldiers, actual reploids, not pantheons, marching through the streets and raiding the apartments, kicking down market stalls and harassing the civilians who couldn't run for safety fast enough. For the time being, Craft couldn't afford having his bike running.

[Thirsty?]

Craft cracked open an E-can and handed it to Zero. [Now that you say it, yeah. We haven't stopped for a while now.]

It was late in the afternoon now, the sun was getting low in the sky and they were only a little more than half the way to their destination. Zero took a swig from the E-can, feeling his energy levels replenish as soon as the liquid touched the tip of his tongue.

In the brief moment of respite, Craft took the chance to light up again. [Never seen so many officers in these parts. Looks like they've thrown everything but the kitchen sink at the outer sectors,] Craft noted. [Been lucky.]

Zero cocked his brow, pausing mid-sip and moving his can away from his lips. [Too lucky.]

Craft huffed, smoke coming out hard through his nose like he was an angry bull. [Don't say that. You'll invite bad juju.]

Polishing off the E-can, Zero set it aside into a dumpster nearby as quietly as possible as to not alert any passersby. [Buddy, this place is bad juju from top to bottom. I'm not doing anything,] Zero argued. Before he would return from where he had discarded out his empty can, he peeked around the corner, scoping out the state of the main street from the alley. There were rows of soldiers milling about, lingering like a militant miasma. Zero's lips formed a line.

[Do you think they're onto us?] Zero asked. [They're everywhere.]

Craft grit his teeth, thinking about it. [Probably been onto us for a while,] he said. [It's just harder to avoid them in these tiny streets. This is one of the most densely populated regions in the outer sector. Can't be helped, you know.]

Craft pushed his idle bike out of the little inlet and checked his surroundings, beckoning Zero over with a flick of his finger. [We better start moving.]

Discarding his cigarette and snuffing it out with his boot, he snuck further into the alleys away from main street. It stunk, it was damp and wet and nothing but concrete and wire fence for miles, but it was the best place to hide.

Overhead, Zero caught the high pitched scream of drones and jets flying overhead. He swallowed. [Those things don't see us, right?]

Craft shrugged. [They see our heat signature but nothing more. You should probably kill any unnecessary metabolic processes if you're really worried.]

Zero found himself staring into the cloudy skies, filled with inexplicable dread. [If you say so…]

They found themselves delving deeper into a labyrinth of alleyways until Craft paused abruptly mid-stride, furrowing his brow and honing his sensors.

[This way,] he concluded, turning a corner and disappearing into another alley. Through the general sonorous chaos of the residential district, Zero could pick up on the rhythmic clicking hoofsteps of officers on mechaniloid horseback.

Another turn, and the estimated ETA reading in his HUD ticked up another minute. Zero wondered if they could even get to the South-East Sector border by the end of the day.

They stopped by a window into a ground-floor apartment, making themselves small against the wall. The lights were on and the curtains were drawn, the window opened slightly ajar for no reason other than the awning chain winder was broken. Rats and mice scurried around at their feet, flies landing on their faces incessantly. Zero dipped his head back and sighed into the sky.

[We're never gonna get out of here,] Zero lamented.

[Come on… have a little faith in me,] Craft said with a mock whine in his tone. [As soon as we leave this sector, we can make up for lost time.]

[And if we don't get out of here?]

Craft took a second to think about his answer. [I'm… not too sure. But as long as we're together, I swear, I won't let anyone hurt you.]

Zero's frown faltered, a smile creeping in. [Aww. That was kind of cute.]

[Hey… I- uh.]

Craft looked away and wiped his face with his hand, trying to get rid of the blush. Not that it'd work, Zero could see the temperature change with thermal vision. [Thanks…] was all he settled on. Zero chuckled, shooting him a foxy glare.

[You're putting a lot on the line helping me, you know,] Zero said in a soft tone. Craft made a half-hearted laugh.

[Don't I know it.]

[Then why put up with the trouble?] Zero continued to prod. [You could've just let me go on my own.]

[And just let you get caught? You weren't gonna make it till the Bosaso border on your own,] Craft argued. [I'm helping you because it's the right thing to do. I was, uh, going this way anyway.]

His nervous glance darted to and from Zero's face. [Sure,] Zero teased. [What a gentleman you are.]

Scratching the back of his neck, Craft cleared his throat. [Yeah, yeah… whatever.]

With nothing else to think about but each other and the thousands of soldiers surrounding them at all sides, Zero peeked into the apartment they were hiding out besides, finding a large family huddled around an old box television. Craft cocked a brow at the sight of Zero staring indoors.

[What are you looking at?] Craft asked. Zero wasn't really sure. Was he looking at the reploids within, all skinny and gaunt, or was he looking at the television, airing a mid-season basketball game?

[Don't know. Guess it's weird to see people getting on with their lives after seeing what happened to Bosaso,] Zero said. [Even if I wanted to return to Neo Arcadia and live a normal life, I don't think I could, knowing X organised that. You know, go do my stupid tasks, deal with my stupid problems. Makes you feel so small.]

A spitting rain began to fall on the sector. Zero blinked away the droplets. [Doesn't it just. Makes you feel crazy for so much as wanting more,] Craft added. [But, you know, being part of the Resistance means you gotta want more. Do I believe we can actually get more…? At this point, not really. But it doesn't mean I don't want more. And I want you to have more, Zero. I mean, I want everyone to.]

Though Craft wasn't looking at him as he spoke, Zero felt compelled to meet his wayward gaze. He breathed a long, laboured sigh. [You're nice to me.]

Craft's lip twitched as he thought about a response, responses that all fell short. [Yeah.]

[Why?] Zero asked.

[What's it to you?] Craft snapped back, a little more defensive than he'd liked it to have been. He collected himself and rethought his answer. [Just– I just want to help you because I feel like it's what I'm supposed to do. I can't explain it, I just know, man.]

Zero felt a little cruel for urging him to rationalise something that was clearly an irrational decision. [Well… whatever it is, thank you, anyway.]

There was a shrill tone coming from inside the apartment that demanded both of their attentions. Whatever program that had been on before had been taken over by a blue screen, signposted with the words PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT ISSUED BY THE NEO ARCADIAN GOVERNMENT plastered over it. A few other investigative residents entered the room, curious as to what the commotion entailed. The eldest, an older woman, maybe a mother or grandmother, reached for the phone and flicked through the stations, finding they were all airing the same PSA. Craft and Zero exchanged uncertain glances.

After a minute of confusion, the broadcast cut to a live feed, and before them stood X, standing behind a podium with the Neo Arcadian flag draped over it. Zero's eyes widened, and instinctively, he shrunk back as if to hide from his image. He'd only been away for about two weeks, and yet, it felt like he was looking at a stranger, those cold red eyes, unblinking, staring into his subjects like daggers.

"Citizens of Neo Arcadia, it is not often I come to you for aid, and as your leader, I regret to shoulder you with the problems the state faces. However, today, I come to you not as Emperor X, but as a person- as a father and partner to a wonderful man, in dire need," he began. His voice was gentle, but it was betrayed by his own strict glare and harsh scowl. "As you may have been made aware, the government has been fighting back against a terrorist minority for some time now. It is thanks to our army's efforts that many of you can call Neo Arcadia a safe haven."

The lie was so egregious, Zero could do nothing more but laugh.

"Around thirteen days ago, a dangerous terrorist cell captured and kidnapped my partner Zero and are currently holding him hostage in the Outer Sectors. I have reason to believe his life is in grave danger," X said, his tone growing grim and gaze darkening. On the television flashed a mugshot of Craft and himself, showing all sides of their heads and vision of them without armour. Zero shook his head and backed away in disbelief.

[X, don't do this…] he said to himself.

"The combat reploid on the right-hand side of the screen is the primary culprit in Zero's kidnapping. His name is Craft Fenrisúlfr. He is a caucasian male with medium-length black hair, a scar on his face, and he stands at seven foot, seven inches. He was last seen with Zero near the Old Bosaso Industrial District driving a modified NAC-T5000 military model ride chaser. If you so happen to see him, do not, by any means, approach him. He is a wanted criminal and terrorist and aggressive. Report any sightings to the number on the screen, that is 1-200-TERRORWATCH."

The lady inside tried turning off the television but to no avail. She harrumphed and tossed the remote on the coffee table.

"They've shown this stupid thing like seven times in the past three hours," she complained, sinking back into her couch. "I'm trying to hit a parlay here…"

[What do we do? Now everyone knows about us,] Zero worried, looking a little wild and desperate.

[We just–] Craft broke his gaze away as breath caught in his throat. [We just need to stay out of everyones' way.]

"I repeat, I have reason to believe Zero's life is in danger. This is an active hostage situation," X reiterated, his brow knitted. "It is imperative that Zero be returned to us safely. We will be working around the clock to ensure this operation is completed swiftly. Until further notice, a 9:00 PM curfew for all civilians in the Outer Sector has been put in place. You may notice increased military presence, we implore you do not interfere unless entirely necessary. We appreciate your cooperation. Thank you."

The screen cut to black with a disclaimer reading in bold white text; SPOKEN BY MASTER MEGAMAN X AUTHORISED BY THE STATE GOVERNMENT, NEO ARCADIA, before finally returning to regularly scheduled programming. The residents of the apartment breathed a sigh of relief and returned to tending to the minutiae of their unremarkable life. Craft pulled Zero aside from the window and into the shadows.

[Craft, there is no way we're getting out of here. Everyone is onto us,] Zero fretted, his jaw tight and eyes fluttering to and fro. Craft shook his head.

[If you'd just–]

[We never should've come this way,] Zero continued, too stressed to let a word in. [We should've just gone west. I told you–]

[That broadcast was sent out state wide, Zero-]

[You should've just listened to me–]

[ZERO.]

Craft gripped Zero by the shoulders and brought him down to earth, looking straight into his eyes. Zero hadn't even noticed he was breathing so hard until then.

[If you could just… give me a minute to think about it, alright?] he begged. Zero swallowed and nodded vigorously.

[Thanks…]

After making sure there would be no more fussing, Craft let him go. Zero stepped away and pressed his back against the wall. The storm clouds rolling over were thickening, blanketing the sector in darkness. A few residents emerged from their windows to take in their laundry before it could get soaked.

[There's a safehouse underground nearby. If we can make it, it can take us through a tunnel to the edge of this sector's borders,] Craft said after he had paced around for a moment.

[Why didn't you bring that up earlier?] Zero asked, exhausted by the whole ordeal.

[Because we'd have to go through the subterranean thoroughfare. It's either that way, or we can take the trolley system, but that's on the other side of town,] Craft explained. [We'd need a miracle to even come close to making it.]

Zero pursed his lips and tapped his foot. [Can't wait around for a miracle.]

[Indeed,] Craft agreed. [If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them.]

[I'm thinking,] Zero assured, as if it wasn't obvious. [We could wait out here for the curfew.]

[We could. Just don't know how long we can evade being caught here,] Craft said. [We'll only give them more chances to track us down if we stay in one spot. I don't know how, but we need to keep moving.]

Easier said than done, and he knew it. Zero clicked his tongue and wandered around aimlessly, feeling abundantly lost.

[We can't go back.] Zero was staring blankly from where they had come from.

[No can do,] Craft said. Zero, resigned to his fate, returned to Craft's side.

[Alright then, big man. Take the lead,] Zero conceded. Craft cracked a smirk and made a soft laugh.

Taking the offer in stride, Craft pushed his bike forward, taking off into winding alleyways once more. [With pleasure.]

The pitter-patter of rain was growing heavier, the skies growing ever darker as if night had come early. Somewhere, in the far distance, was a rumbling crack of thunder, the only other thing they could hear clearly through both drumming rain and their own footsteps. Any citizen still outdoors rushed undercover, seeking shelter from the elements.

It was quiet. Something was flying overhead.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

The little green light on Zero's collar lit up, a piercing tone screeching from the device. They both came to a sudden halt, eyes wide with terror.

[They're here. Quick, helmets, we need to go.]

He was speaking so fast it was almost unintelligible. Craft snatched his helmet from hammerspace and latched it on, Zero following suit. He started up the bike's engine and hopped on, pulling Zero on with him.

[W-who?!]

There would be no need for an answer. Hurtling from the skies, as fast and powerful as a bolt of lightning, was Sage Harpuia. Clawed feet outstretched like the talons of a hawk, vast wings spreading out to break his landing as he hones in on his target.

"Shit! No, no, no, no–"

Craft had hardly any time to escape before Harpuia had sunk his claws into Zero's shoulders and lifted off, taking Zero with him.

"ZERO!"