This is not your grave… But you are welcome in it.

It was late, and Fox's batteries were drained, to say the least. Stood on a rooftop, the weary man took deliberate drags of a cigarillo perched between his fingers. Even outside and a couple floors up, he could still hear the bass and muffled music of the party raging downstairs.

A party courtesy of Mr Kryuger, for his employees; the growth of the company, the first anniversary of the adoption of the neural cloud system, and projected record profits were worth celebrating. Kryuger had gracefully disappeared an hour into the function, leaving Miss Helian and other seniors to maintain appearances. Although given Helian's drunken antics involving a bar-pole and many broken glasses moments earlier, it was more likely he'd left simply to let the officers let their hair down.

And so three hours into a function, Fox was now stood here overlooking the city below. It should have been a nice view, but the commander just couldn't enjoy it. Sangvis Ferri's treachery had shattered the hard-fought peace that had struggled into being years prior. Mr Kryuger had made it no secret that G&K was working on a contract with state officials to combat the rogue organisation; Fox was marked for deployment to Area S09 in the new year if it was successful.

"I thought I'd find you up here."

Fox glanced to his left; walking his way was a familiar sight as any.

"How you doing, Maisy?"

The blue-eyed blonde leant beside him, playfully bumping him with a shoulder.

"It's rude to leave your girl at the party, y'know?" Maisy smirked, pinching Fox's cigarillo from his fingers "Could give others the impression you don't like me."

"You seemed to be enjoying your time with the other dolls," sighed Fox "I'm surprised some of the other commanders didn't recognise you."

"Do I look like a plain Jane girl to you, Commander?"

Maisy shot him a hurt look before she chuckled, flicking a bang of hair out of her eyes.

"Not at all, Mais," Fox smiled, looking her up and down "You're looking like a mighty fine gal, maybe I should take you home and introduce you to the family."

The girl swooned, her white and blue dress swirling about her legs as she feigned shock, clutching her chest.

"Oh Mr Fox, we couldn't possibly! You- You pervert! Taking advantage of your subordinates like that!"

"Oh am I now?" he breathed, turning and cupping his left hand around Maisy's cheek, looking deep into her eyes "Hm?"

A blush crept up Maisy's neck, colouring her cheeks as her breath hitched.

"You're drunk aren't you, Commander?"

"A little."

"Idiot," she sighed, smiling, as she gripped his hand and held it to her chest "Maybe if you weren't so stupid, you wouldn't have lost this arm in the first place."

"I'd rather have lost my arm than lost you," Fox whispered, moving closer, wrapping his free arm around Maisy's waist "I've already lost enough."

The girl laid her head against his chest, burying her face into his tuxedo. This close, Fox could smell the sweet, faint perfume radiating from her.

"You smell nice," he sighed "Mais."

Maisy looked up expecting more from Fox, but he remained silent, looking into the distance of the cityscape. She recognised that look, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Those dark green eyes so full of love and sorrow… She tucked an arm around him and replaced her head to his chest, closing her eyes and listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

They stood together for a while; not a word was spoken between them, but they communicated all the while. The warmth of their bodies, the grasp of their hands, the comfort of their embrace. Maisy shifted slightly against him.

"Commander, the next taxi has arrived, if you want to return to the base."

"What about you, Mais? I'm guessing you want to stay a little longer?"

The girl nodded goofily, offering him that same old mischievous smile.

"Of course you do, trouble you. Don't do anything silly whilst I'm gone."

"I wouldn't dream of it," giggled Maisy "Miss Helian has done enough for the both of us."

Fox snorted softly, amused; he'd see how sheepish Helian was at the briefing the next morning. It wasn't a long walk back downstairs to the balcony outside the function, dotted with humans and dolls alike, mingling and talking the night away.

Without anything left to say, Fox squeezed Maisy one last time, and laid a kiss on her cheek.

"Have a good night Maisy, I'll see you in the morning."

Her hand lingered on his prosthetic briefly, before they finally parted. Her fingers pressed to her cheek, where he'd kissed her, as she watched him go.

"Goodnight, Commander."

Fox wasn't worried about her, she was fully capable of handling herself. As he walked away he could hear the giggles and chatter between Maisy and some other dolls, eager to talk all about Fox and her. They'd entertain her through the night, and keep her company. If he wasn't so exhausted from the recent operations, he would have happily joined them.

Riding the elevator down, Fox rubbed his prosthetic arm; it was aching again. The contours and textures, though impressive, were still different. He could have had a more lifelike replacement, but he had opted for the more functional, artificial version; a mix of carbon-fibre and steel.

Regardless of its design, the arm was a constant reminder of that day, what people had started to call the 'Butterfly Incident.' The Commander was fortunate to have lost only an arm, others had lost their lives; two of his friends were among those unlucky thousands. He'd go visit their graves before Christmas, make sure they were okay. Possibly even give their families a visit, see how they were doing. It was the least he could do.

Sleepily pacing through the quiet, bright foyer, Fox made his way through the revolving doors to the taxi ramp. Eyeing a nearby taxi van with an attendant, Fox clambered in through an opened door and found a seat. It looked like there were a few other party-goers in here too, none of them he could recognise though, illuminated by their mobile screens. The sliding door was closed with a solid thunk, and the driver started the ignition, the vehicle rumbling to life. Fox reached into a pocket and pulled out his phone, planning to do a little surfing on the journey back to base.

Then he saw a flash, heard a rushing wave. The world went dark, and his ears were ringing. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear. Fox couldn't even hear himself, only feel the vibrations in his chest. But the pain, God he could feel it. Everything hurt. His eyes and ears, his body, arms and legs. Everything felt so heavy.

Fox tried to reach out, feel anything around him. He couldn't figure out the taxi, but he could feel the seatbelt across his chest. An instinctual drive to release that belt possessed him, and he did his best to release it, fumbling where the lock should be. Moments later he felt something give, and he fell forwards.

Hitting the floor, Fox flailed his arms, reaching for something, anything, to get away from where he was in his world of darkness. God it still hurt so much. He must have been babbling, yelling, crying during his struggle; as despair was about to set in, he felt pressure around his shoulders, his body flipped over, and his lower half dragged across the floor before being laid down. It was during that drag that Fox realised he couldn't feel his legs.

Laying on the floor, with the disappearance of that grip, Fox felt abandoned, isolated, exposed. He was shivering uncontrollably, his body shutting down as panic and horror gripped him. The Commander reached out, trying to find something, anything, to hold onto. He was getting tired, his arms so painful and heavy he could only drag them across the floor, starving. Fox could feel a wetness running down his face.

Relief bloomed in his chest as something, someone, held his hands. Just that smallest of gestures told something, in the deepest depths of his mind, that he would be alright. He had no idea how though, being blind, deaf, agonised and immobilised, but that reassurance helped. Fox held onto those hands tight, clinging for dear life, as vertigo hit him. With that feeling of his body sinking through the floor, senses fading, grasp weakening, and exhaustion consuming him.

Commander Fox fell unconscious.