The sky.

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The endless, white plains of nothing but milk. Warm, sulking milk. The sky's never known any trouble, never had to worry about anything and nothing in particular. When asked about its daily routines, it would probably answer with a casual "Ah, nothing on my to-do list for today, just chilling." Such was the contrast between Terra and the sky it housed above. A ball of ori-rocks and misery, put against an open pasturing field, where the clouds, much like cattle-beasts, frolicked endlessly to their heart's content. Sure, sometimes a few moody ones would boil over and cry, maybe sprinkle a few snowflakes from above, even send a few thunderbolts barreling towards the barren wastelands, but never actually care enough to cause it too much trouble. The catastrophes were their own thing, not in any way encouraged or controlled by moody Mother Nature, no. The catastrophes ruled themselves by an unreadable set of rules known only to, surprisingly, one man on Terra, a man akin to an ant in the smaller scheme of things, a towering giant in the grander. A man far away from the horizons of that day's events.

Or was he?

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"You're dragging."

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Ines' voice bit hard into Andy's already red ears. Both the heat of heavy, physical exertion and the glaring sun piled up on him like "war-boys on some cheap whore", as the better W used to say. Better or worse, Andy has been truly contemplating those two words these past few weeks. The more he saw her face in his dreams, the more she started seeping into his subconsciousness and stealing Lemuel's dreamy form, the more he caught himself thinking about her even outside the realm of never-never land, where Sister Midnight sieved the dreaming's hair through her slender fingers. At that moment, lost in a Southern forest peppered with annoyingly lush oaks and bushes, vines that bit inhabiting their barks and clinging to them like the parasites they were, Andy found himself lost in a daze once more. An annoyed scoff soon helped bring his head back back down to Terra.

"Can we stop screwing around for now? I told you, twerp, I wanna get this over with and take the rest of the day off." She said, standing there with her arms crossed. The poor critter, Freddie, quivered by her bandage-clad legs and sniffled. The kid just kept sniffling, sniffling like there was no tomorrow. Andy blinked.

"Day off? You wanna get a day off?"

"That's what I said, yeah."

"Day off in Kazdel?" An incredulous look crawled onto his face. "Is that even possible?"

"It's possible when you don't have two snot-eaters to take care of." She bit back, before gently nudging Freddie's back with her shoe. "Did I tell you to stop walking? Keep the pace, worm."

"Yeah, worm-boy, keep it up." Andy stifled a giggle and followed right behind. The kid seemed to be on the verge of breaking down, yet he proudly wiped his face and continued on, shakingly crawling through the vines and roots that defiled the earth like landmines up in Central Kazdel.

"Worm-boy." Ines repeated, then raised an eyebrow. "Day by day, I'm seeing you twist and change more and more. Like a blooming dandelion."

"Dandelion? 'Cause they're gray? And fluffy?" He asked, bursting with barely hidden hints of hope at the assumed praise.

" 'Cause they're useless weeds. And 'cause you're turning into a proper piece of shit, no doubt courtesy of W." She sighed. "It's scary, honestly. I can barely even remember your old shadow. The one that crawled behind you when we first picked you up at that poker game."

"That's… a good thing, I guess?"

"Is it?" Shrugging, she carried on. "It used to be meek. Like some rat, I guess. Small, cowering, lost to all seven hells and incredibly insecure. Like you worried about everything, but let nothing show. So full of yourself, but your shadows betrayed everything you had going on beneath the surface. Other words, I could read you like a book. You weren't holding any cards to your chest, you were laying them all out bare on the table before me. And then slipping into a sobbing breakdown. And maybe puking on the table altogether."

"Oh." Andy narrowed his gaze. The conversation took a turn he wasn't quite expecting. With silent acceptance, he flicked the coach gun from one shoulder to the other, hearing it rattle and whisper something akin to a muffled scream yelling "LIAR! LIAR!".

"Yeah. Like you had a mask under all that vomit." She continued, her steps nimble and accurate, dancing past each root and vine with grace fit for a light footed dancer. "But nowadays? Mask's gone, It's like you've literally grown into it. Like you just dropped all those little worries and, and dignities. Like it's consumed you, however lame and pretentious that sounds."

"So I'm lame and pretentious." He summed up. A whisper fell past his shoulder, begging him to disregard her words. Andy shoved the double barrel into his jacket and shut the voice up.

"Well, yeah. You always were." Ines gave a nod, then lifted Freddie across a particularly thorny pile of vines. His legs dangled helplessly in the air, as she carried him for a few more meters before casually dropping the kid to the ground. "You used to be a lame rat who clinged onto any company he could find, which was us at the time." He noticed a little glimmer of warmth in her voice, as if the fact didn't really bother her all that much. "... And now you're just rotten. Like all of us, I mean which makes you debatably even lamer. You even look like us, with those disgusting horns and tail."

"Oh." He took a moment to think, scratching his head. "... So I just evened the playing field? We're all evenly lame?"

"Oh, no, no. No, don't even think of taking it in that direction." She scoffed. "You're lame like W. Hoederer and I are lame in a much different way, much more refined and deeper, much more careful and essentially, well, needlessly convoluted, but, alas…" Here, she took a deep sigh. "... Alas it's somewhat similar. But not the same."

"Yeah, I don't really, uh… I don't really get any of what you just said."

"Of course you don't, lame-o." In a rare moment of grim amusement, she stifled a snortle. "You. W. Lame. Me. Hoederer. Lame-r. Got it?"

"Got it." With an affirming nod, he confirmed.

"E-... Excuse m-me…?" A soft, tiny voice barely even articulated the words. "... Are we- are… are we far?"

They turned their attention to the trifling worm that led their expedition deeper into the forest. Ines decided to humor him with a scoff. "As far as we feel like. Focus on walking, less talking. Tip top."

"Yeah, tip-top. Or you're gonna end up like your old man, pal." Andy threw in, boasting Henri's old gun. It squealed with joy and whispered in his ear, making his tail stand straight up. "THAT'S THE SPIRIT! SHOOT 'EM DEAD AND LET'S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

"What? Wh-, no…" He mumbled back, turning to the gun. Ines perked her ears.

"What? What, "no?"

"What?"

"Wh-... Andy, what the hell? "End up like your old man"? I'm not one to talk, but that's a little beneath even you. That's a child, that's like… That's W-level of rubbing it in. Unnecessary."

"Oh, but-..." His legs quivered under her judgemental gaze. "... Yeah, sorry."

She didn't seem mad, just slightly disappointed. Strange thing, seeing the hardened mercenary genuinely taken aback by his little bite-backs.

"Just don't turn into her, that's all I ask. I've already got enough on my plate with one shit-for-brains to worry about, don't need another one."

"Bit hypocritical, no? You guys throw these sorta remarks all the time…" He whined, while absent-mindedly kicking apart a few rocks and vines. One particularly hungry Vine That Bit slung its thorny tongue around his ankle. Andy bit his tongue, Ines sighed and cut the plant in half with a throwing knife. "... Thanks."

"... I'm serious." She mumbled, watching Andy rip the knife from the ground. "The only reason I brought you along is because I wanted someone a little more compassionate to the kid's situation than a murder-hobo, or a stoic pile of rocks."

"Ah, so I'm the softest." He noted, grimly.

"The most human, maybe. Or that's what I thought, at least." With a soft murmur, they all turned back to follow Freddie deeper into the woods. "You wanna prove me wrong? Go right ahead, I won't stop you."

"Don't be like that."

"Like what? I'm giving you a clean slate to stain, do whatever you want with it. Just offering my own five shekels, I know what it means to be both at the receiving end and the giving. You can either sink deeper or look back at what you were and maybe realize that, you know… maybe some people are just meant to be a little softer. A bit more pathetic than others. It's not always necessarily bad to be a little pathetic. It might get you ripped to shreds by the next hothead you meet, sure, but at least you're gonna die with dignity, no?"

"... You make it sound so positive. All sunshines and rainbows with you, is it?"

"Oh, shut up."

A moment passed between the two, a moment of a few giggles exchanged in soft, comfortable silence.

"Andy, you know I won't ever say "I worry about you", firstly because I don't, secondly because I'd rather slit my throat than admit it." She began, once more pushing the kid through a bed of roots. Freddie caught his shoe on the twigs and fell face first into a pool of mud with a loud splat. "... But I don't think you wanna be the second W. That's all."

"..." Carefully lifting the sniffling kid off the ground, Andy patted him down and sent on his way with a tap the the back of his earthy horns. "Yeah, yeah. I get it, you don't like her. You don't like me being around her, I-..."

"Oh, no. No, not at all. No, hell no." She shook her head nearly immediately, taking him off guard with the ferocity of her disagreement. "No, if I could, I'd glue you two morons together. Keep you bonded by the hip, anything."

"Seriously? Why?" Andy quirked her a brow. "I thought you hated her."

"I do hate her. More than you and Hoederer combined, but she's… a little different, when she's with you."

"..." Andy had to blink at the revelation. He's never noticed, but then again, he hasn't really had a chance to watch W from another perspective than his. "... Care to, uh… elaborate?"

"It should be studied, what you do to her." Ines let out a snort. "Really. The way her shadow growls and gorges at everything it can reach, like a street hound, but turns to a purring kitten when she sees you? It's like you can just turn HER off, in the most literal meaning." She gesticulated flipping a switch, followed by a loud "Pop!" from her lips. "As if she's constantly looking for a fight, constantly on the lookout for any danger, like a cornered animal. But when you come in?" Here, her voice took on a much more girly, higher pitch, somewhat resembling that of W. "Laaaawdog! Hey, Lawdog! Let me pester you, and, like, slap around with my tail, and call you slurs! Not a single worry in the world, but your dumbass face! Woo-hoo! Wee-hee! Kaboom! Ahahaha!" She even managed to form one of her signature chuckles. Freddie twisted his head at the chilling sound, eyes wide with fear. Andy patted him down and tapped on the back to keep him walking.

"That was good. Genuinely good, you nailed her."

"Oh, did I?" Ines lazily raised an eyebrow at his half-assed praise. "Glad you liked that. Don't get used to it."

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And he never did.

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They left the kid crying on the forest floor, bawling his eyes out and begging towards the heavens. Ines glanced at Andy from time to time, trying to gauge a reaction, yet none came. He could only stare at the boy and think of all the ways he had hurt him – they were nobodies, absolute strangers, yet bound by a deep-rooted sense of hurt. Both left to themselves, both thrown into a land that hated the weak and molded the strong into unfeeling mountains. Andy was already halfway there, Freddie hadn't even begun the climb yet. Ines eventually left without a word, unimpressed by his lack of action.

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"..." Andy stared. Alone, he stared at the boy, the pitiful, Caprinae larvae. So small and slimy in the moonlight, his face wet from the tears and underlying misery. Left to himself, left for dead. The sight stirred something deep within the most intimate confinements of his brain, something wormy and burrowing, like a tumor digging into his gray matter. Against his better judgment, Andy sighed, then kneeled down by the boy. The gun rattled by his side, giving a soft, disapproving scoff.

"... Hey?"

"...?" The kid looked up, gazing through a veil of tears sliding past his lids. "W-What? What more d-do you people want…?"

"Look, man…" Andy gave a weary sigh, then sat back on the ground and produced a cigarette from his coat. In an attempt at making himself a bit cooler than he actually was, he haphazardly lit it ablaze with a snap of his fingers, then stuck it in his mouth. Freddie watched the entire ordeal, his chest heaving with sorrow and helpless anger. Soon, he ate a faceful of smoke. "... Truth is, you're probably gonna be dead by tomorrow morning."

"..." The boy stared, taking in the smoking devil's face. Each millimeter, each tiny scar and imperfection, the notches on his blackened horns, the gray, empty eyes, lit up by the cigarette's glow. "... Okay." The crying stopped for a moment, as he recognized something beyond the demon's prideful facade. "Do it yourself, then. Do it, you m-monster."

"Wh-? No, come on." Andy deflated a little onto the ground, genuinely baffled by the kid's train of thought. "No, I don't wanna DO IT myself. I-..."

"You've already d-done it to my parents." He seeped through gritted teeth. "... Do it. Finish what you started."

That, he did not expect. The icy fingers of guilt clawed his back at full force now, awashing completely in the conscious awareness of the pathetic state of affairs. The kid had every right to be pissed. To want to kill him, or be killed in return. Andy took a deep sigh, then threw the barely depleted cigarette far into the gloomy woods. "No. Look, I'm…"

The words got stuck in his mouth, much like a particularly thick fishbone. Faint whispers singing of blowing the kid's head off with a twelve gauge surprise, then booking it back towards the nearest merc-line filled his brain, yet were eventually crushed beneath the grand force of guilt and regret.

"... I'm sorry." He mumbled, unable to look him in the eye. "I'm really sorry, Freddie."

"... Sorry? You're… Y-You're sorry? You're sorry…?" Almost as if in disbelief, the kid whispered. "Y-You killed my parents, now you're sorry?"

"It was just a… a job, okay? I didn't mean to…"

"Y-You shot them. You shot them both, I saw you d-doing that… that gun-magic, you shot them both, now you're sorry?"

"I really didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, Freddie. I'm sorry." His voice, meek and barely heard, was slowly drowned out by the deluge of tears that once more poured down the youth's face.

"And now you're... y-you're leaving me here to die, because y-you're too much of a coward to finish the job yourself...? L-Leaving me with nothing?"

Andy felt his own eyes watering at the overbearing tombstones crushing his brain into mush and hands that stuck spikes of guilt deep into his heart, but eventually let no tears fall. There were no whispers coming from the gun, just him, the sobbing child, a cigarette smoldering away on the ground, and a loud buzz of blood in his ears. He stood up, then produced Ines' throwing knife from his pocket.

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The blade inched ever so closer to the kid's eyes.

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"... I'm really sorry." He whispered.

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"There you are." Ines murmured at the sight of a rather disheveled Andy, shoving his way through some prickly vines and lush bushes. He staggered in place, jumping on one leg, the other wrapped by a few plant-tongues with thorns. It took him a few solid kicks to get unwrapped from Mother Nature's assault, much to her amusement. "... The hell took you so long? Sobby goodbye?"

"Something like that." He quietly threw back, before patting himself down a little. Dust, leaves, grass needles and droplets of sweat fell from his hands, then returned back down onto the soil. Ines seemed to notice the crimson residue staining his face, but said nothing.

"Mmm… By the way, you got my knife. Care to, y'know?" She clicked her tongue, in a manner clearly displaying her obvious intent of getting it back. Andy met her eyes for a moment, then immediately glanced away to make a show out of patting himself down in search for the lost thingamajig.

"Ah, yeah… must've lost it on my way back. I'll get you something back for it, yeah?" With a forced smile, he tried playing a card of blissful ignorance. She caught onto the sham-stage-play nearly immediately. "... What? Don't look at me like that, I lost it."

"You lost it." She repeated, savoring each word. A knife gone. A lengthy separation with their guest. A shaky shadow. His thoughts, all a mess, all running wild, all permeated with guilt and a hint, a mere glimmer of something far more, something far brighter and pure. A good deed for the day, a deed for the year, a deed for one's entire life. She had a clear idea of what might've happened, or rather of exactly what had occurred. "... One hundred percent sure you lost it."

"I did really lose it! I… Wait!" He yelled after her, but she was already far on her way back to the trial out of the forest. "In-... Ines! Wait, I… I can explain! My hands are clean, okay? I'm clean! I'm all… Wait…!"

"Oh, I know they are! Cleaner than they have ever been!" She casually threw back. He couldn't see it, but under her flocks of raven black hair rested a soft, little smile. One well earned, a token of appreciation for the softer side that slithered through Andy's rotten brain that day.

He threw himself onward to chase after her, but a few more biting vines latched onto his cargos and wrapped around his ankles and boots, tight. Kicking the assaulters away helped just barely, as more and more kept coming. More kept sliding and biting into his socks, more distance grew between him and the Caprinae. He stood there, helplessly lost in his own white lies.

"WAIT! WAIT, I CAN…!"

She stopped dead in her tracks, making him shut up at once. Without even turning, she stifled a giggle and casually threw back:

"... You do owe me a knife, though. You get me a new set, I won't tell anyone about your little moment of weakness."

"..." Andy stop wriggling in the vines' grasp, instead dumbstruck at her words. She knew? She knew, but he didn't know how. The thought of her being able to read him like an open book escaped his mind at the moment. "... What moment of weakness?"

"Oh, come on." She shook her head in amusement. "You gave the kid my knife. Upped his survival chances."

"Wh-... NO? I did not?"

"Andy." She sighed.

"But I didn't! I just lost it on my way here, I-..."

"I can read your shadow, twerp. I'll go blind before I figure what exactly you had told him, but I gathered this much already. You gave him the knife."

"..." Andy couldn't even disagree anymore. Just for a moment, even the vines stopped being so bite-y. "... And you won't tell anyone?"

"If you get me a new throwing set. C'mon, these things cost." She finally turned to face him, all smiles and blooming with barely contained giggles. "... Did he at least say thanks?"

"Thanks...? No, he... Fuck, can you just..." His face went red, as the vines started getting a little more handsy, reaching for his waist and chest. "Just get… get these things off me!"

"Sheesh. Softie, but not only at heart, are we?" With a chuckle, she closed the distance and cut apart the thorny intruders with a few, swift moves. Andy fell to the floor, eyes bored deeply into hers, glaring with mock disdain.

"... You're the worst."

"And you're pathetic." She calmly replied, before reaching out to help him up. "In the best way possible, of course."

"Yeah, just…" He felt his world spinning, as she pulled him up with a surprising amount of force. "... Don't tell anyone, yeah?"

"Yup. That, I can do. Want me to make up a little tale? Tell W you slaughtered the kid in cold blood?" With a smirk, she elbowed his ribs. Andy's never seen her in such a good mood, nor has he ever heard her be so chummy with him. "Or maybe something grander? That you burned him on a stake? Blew sky high with some impromptu explosives you found lying around…?"

"Okay, that's not…" He chuckled at the thought, unable to keep up a pout for any longer. "Not necessary. I don't wanna come off TOO strong."

"Not too strong, got it. Just a pathetic little tale about a child killer, yeah?" She patted him on the back. Andy gave a nod.

"Pathetic little tale about a child killer. Perfect."

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As pathetic as it might've been, there was some charm to their bite-backs. Some slithers of light past all the serpent-talk.

Whatever else he might've said,

Whatever mask might've stained his face,

Whatever atrocities he might've committed,

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His hands were clean. All soapy, squeaky clean.

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Andy doesn't remember much from that night. That fateful night, the one job Hedley spoke about. Transport. Some transport it was... Hasn't told anyone but him what they were transporting, for some reason. Had to slip his mind at that moment, the tiny detail to avoid exposing confidential corporate info-vomit.

He knows there were a lot of screams. Lots of bright, flashing lights. The barren battlefield was completely lit up with arts flinging all across Terra. How did it all even begin?

There was a scuffle. He was put on W-babysittting duty, whereas Hedley left them to do… what, exactly? Rally the troops? Gather manpower? He couldn't remember for the life of him. It was something. Had to be something, since he just left the three of them for good, told them to lead their cheap manpower into battle… Battle with who? He couldn't remember a thing. His words, the phrases, letters and syllables, they flew around his head like careless fowl in the sky high above.

"...One more thing. I don't care what kind of mischief you get up to, how one of you exploits the other or whatever, but I won't stand for you actually, directly fighting." The giant's voice boomed across Andy's empty dome.

"But indirect is fine?" Ines asked right after. Andy knew, he remembers standing right next to her at that very moment, his hands clutching to a wooden stock. What stock? It kept whispering, but he doesn't remember what…

"Pretty lax rules." W's bored mumble soon followed. It was as if he could almost see her, the strands of her bright, white hair breaking through the curtain of darkness haphazardly thrown over his brain. The flutter of her cape in the wind, each heavy pocket of her chest rig, each side glance and smirk thrown his way. These images had somehow managed to weld themselves flush to his gray matter, unwilling to let go. W, W, W, and W…

"Andy." The memories turned directly to him. Hedley's blankly red hair swam across the air, pulled and tugged at by the wind, as his arms and eyes fell onto his shoulders. Andy felt the weight even now, as if the scene had somehow managed to connect him to some pulse-transferring machinery that relayed every single touch and feel right into his nerves. "... You're with them. Just make sure they don't kill one another. Or themselves, whichever way the wind blows."

He nodded, then saluted. Even in his dream, his meek little arm shot up to honor his first in command.

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And that was right before it all went to shit.

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Strands of memories passed by the youth's eyes.

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Like cutouts from a film.

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Mere clips of a grander picture.

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Campfire. Burning ground. Sky, dimming and falling dark. Stars, bright and multiple.

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Girls. Women, fighting. Vocal, at first. Mouths, babbling. The ground. One pushed him away, pounced onto the other. Violent scuffle. Sparks flying, steel meeting. Feelings, feelings of worry, feelings of annoyance. He tried to step in, both told him to piss off. That, he remembered clearly.

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More fighting. Hair. A lot of white hair, all up in his face. So close, the film roll really caught a good angle of her hair. Right by him, as he held her by the arms and dragged away from the other. The roll slowed down, like a silent film. Stops in recording after each thrown word, yet no sound to follow. Steps, steps, arguments, steps… Finally, a giant. Men, a lot of men. Men and women. Warriors of the wastelands. Hoederer. He was burnt clear into his memory, his brain unwilling to omit him from the retelling. Hearts, pounding. Thoughts, clearing at the familiar face. A pat on the back. A hissed warning for Ines.

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Her voice.

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Her clear, incredulous voice.

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"You said they were a regular old transport team–

I... no, this is definitely a convoy that needs protection.

But this huge thing that they're transporting... I'm only seeing a shadow...

...A landship? No, it's...

...a skeleton?"

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Then?

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TV static. White noise, white on black. Snow on the television. He was running, running through the dark, following the cape of a giant. The fire giant, the giant with fire for hair. He was burning, scorching and spewing flame all across the battlefield. His mighty blade bit and cut, spilled blood and sent rivers of red barreling down the earth of Kazdel. He stayed behind, he couldn't think or focus. There was yelling, there was shouting and screaming. People were dying – friends, foes, whoever. Does cheap workforce count as a friend? Can you call a merc you've met a minute ago your brother in arms? Can you call his guts, all spread out before you, like butter on bread, a friendly sight? Bolts flew. Arts flew. Glimmers filled his vision whole. He was clutching to something hard. Something tough. He aimed and fired, then fired again. Squeals of joy followed each gunshot. "KILL 'EM! KILL 'EM ALL, ANDY!" they screamed, right into his numb ears. The video-roll cut, but he remained. Overbearing feelings of worry bit into his stomach hard, forced him to kneel. Worry about someone he's lost, someone who wasn't there. It was him, it was Hedley, but the other two were nowhere. W. He didn't know where she was. He wanted to. He needed to know where she was. But her and Ines were nowhere. A wall of darkness swallowed them whole, separated the battlefield. Ambush, some yelled. Fight back, others followed. Sword by sword, shoulder by shoulder. Hedley cut, Andy shot. Heads exploded with each flick of the trigger, each joyful scream of the gun. There was blood all over him, all over his leather duster, all over Hedley and the fire that lit his face furiously ablaze. A momentary photograph swam past his brain, the image of Hedley thrusting his greatsword into the stomach of some unsuspecting devil, a few more swines of war creeping up right behind. He remembers his hands working overtime – two shots, two bodies dropped to the floor, followed by a rapid reload. Crack, the barrel split in half! Whoosh, two empty shells flew out from within, flash, two fresh ones soon replaced them. Clack, the barrel locked back in place, and before the gun could even get used to being whole again, the trigger SQUEEZED hard, sending not one, not two, but thirty two pellets flying to spread and kill, to kill and eat, to bury their lead fangs into the meat of those who dared approach, of those who dare oppose the hellish posse and their contractors, their mighty steeds of iron, their living, breathing skeleton of a warship, their might. Their entire might piled up on the ambushers. Andy shot, Andy kept shooting until his pockets ran dry. No ammunition, he saw Hedley sticking barely from beneath an anthill of devils, all poking their sharp fingers and blades into his guts, drawing them out like sticky, Siracusan cheese clinging to a steady shape when torn apart. No ammunition, no thoughts, he ran in and started BASHING, smashing their heads apart into fine, red mush with the stock. Like nothing, into nothing, their brains exploded, turned to nothing. Something grabbed his shoulder, but he wasn't even there. It wasn't him, it was the whispers that begged him to kill, they turned on one heel and SMASHED the head of a masked devil with his blackened horns. Blood covered his mug, wine flowed through his gray curls, but he kept jabbing his horns into the devil. It only stopped when Hoederer finally pulled him from the ground, forcefully grabbed and shoved him away from the pile of dead mush on the floor. There were words, he was saying something, but nobody knew what. Andy wasn't there, it was just the murderous whispers that have then completely overtaken his mind, sent it flying, kicked from his brain and took the reins with a chortly chuckle. "TOUGH TIMES, BIG MAN!" They giggled.

Tough times came for them all. A wave of explosions shook the field, a wave that he remembers clearly. A wave that lit up his closed eyelids even now, that very moment. Sharp like the tip of an arrow, loud and roaring like the wildest of unmuffled engines, the wall of fire soon filled his vision and was everything he could see. The whispers left, flew away in an instant as a cold, gripping hand of terror and immense anxiety squeezed his heart, yawning open each artery for the cold to slip into and spread through his entire body. He remembers, he was completely sober then. The blood all over himself, the hurt in his arms and legs, it all disgusted him and shook to the core. A moment later, he was already being dragged by Hedley. Something, the giant yelled behind, as he forced his legs to move and start working overtime. Something about leaving behind liabilities, but not a friend. Whatever he might've had in mind, it injected a needle with pure adrenaline right into the angel's heart and sent him barreling down towards the pit, where the explosions had taken place and shaped the earth anew. Reinforcements of the nationalist forces had gathered on the horizon, their silhouettes like gravestones in the moonlight, painted on top of the twin moons' surface. They marched for the pit. For the last of the last, the few remaining forces of light, the mere guts and last droplets of blood of this dying organism they called a "transport team."

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Down the pit they marched.

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And inside the pit?

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A little lamb on the ground. Eyes closed, hand over forehead. A white haired fiend over her, clashing with a large, masked adversary of death. Hedley huffed and puffed somewhere behind, Andy couldn't even wait for him. The brawl brewed on, with W throwing herself to the floor and jabbing at the opponent's ankles, only to get a heft kick to the face in return. Lying on her back, blood spurting high into the air from her nose, she let out a sharp gasp, followed by a healthy dosage of chilling laughter. Just as the faceless fiend got the upper hand and prepared to slam his boot down into her skull, Andy ran down the hole and smashed the gun over the back of his head.

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Smashed,

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And smashed.

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And kept smashing…

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And smashing…

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And smashing…

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And smashing, until another few surrounded them from the north. Four o ' clock, more devils crawled into their little pit. He didn't even get a chance to properly scold W for being a fucking moron. Didn't get a chance to take a closer look at Hedley one last time, didn't get the slightest chance of retaliating against the mighty pommel of a blade that flew clear into his forehead and rattled his brain a little. Ding, ding, ding, it bounced from wall to wall, gliding across his skull like an air-hockey disc. On the floor, staring up at W getting the same treatment, Hedley nowhere to be seen, he reached out to grasp the gun, but someone kicked it away from his hand.

.

But his eyes disappeared. The imagery, it was no more. Only the sound, just the sound remained. The soundwaves burned into his memory, the speech of war.

.

.

Words from far away. Distant chatter of static and unintelligible nonsense, all transmitted straight into his brain.

.

.

.

.

?: "Are you really going? The landship is right here."

.

?: "Yes, I didn't expect them to spot it so soon. Did intel blow this one?"

.

?: "At least we've got the mercenaries."

.

?: "We put them in danger. They have no idea what's happening."

.

?: "They're mercenaries. They live for this. And sooner or later... it will be our burden too."

.

?: "I can save them. I can save some of the men who would die for our mistakes."

.

?: "You're right, Theresa, but…"

.

?: "There isn't a single Sarkaz, not a single person, who should die for nothing."

.

?: "...Sigh... Then I'm coming with you."

.

?: "Good. Thank you, Kal'ts–"

.

?: "As hell you are? Ain't going nowhere. And could you stop these hidey-hole meetups? I'm growing pure sick of you dolls constantly talking it out in some broom closet."

.

?: "Anton, you–…"

.

?: "Miss, if you will. – Let ME help. Kal's just gonna fuck it all up again."

.

?: "Language, you-..."

.

?: "It's okay. Anton, I appreciate the offer, but it's a delicate matter. Too delicate for your expertise, I'm afraid."

.

?: "Don't fret, Missy. I'll be real gentle."

.

.

.

.

.

Words he barely understood, yet couldn't revoke their existence. They grew silent, eventually disappeared, as his brain decided to focus on the events of the here and now.

.

The fighting grew intense, as more Sarkaz warriors showed up.

.

Ines kept breathing, softly. Footsteps raged all around. The soft rattle of a few loose grenades indicated W was nearby.

.

"... W?" His hoarse voice managed to spit out.

.

"... Lawdog? Lawdog. One fucking moron, you are." A quiet chuckle rattled her cracked ribs, drawing some blood to spit out. The pain stifled her laughter immediately. "You're still alive? Please tell me you're not."

.

"Still. Still kicking."

.

"Ah. Ah, of course you are. Like a damn cockroach…"

.

"... W, I can't see. I can't see anything, I can't open my eyes."

.

"... Keep them closed. Nothing good to see, anyway. Nothing to look at. Want me to… to see for you? I can be your eyes… I can even read now, remember…? Remember, Lawdog?"

.

"..."

.

"... I'll take that as a yes. I… -Yaaawn- … I see a buncha… What is that, reinforcements? Wow, reinforcements, huh…? Who are they…? There's a lot of 'em…"

.

"..."

.

"... I… -Yaaaaawn…-"

.

"... Hey, s-stay with me. Don't drift off."

.

"Oh, so… so there's your voice, huh…? Sorry, I'm just so… so sleepy…"

.

"Sorry…? Since when do you know the word "Sorry"...?"

.

"Oh, come… come on. I had to watch Ines pass out last time, now it's… it's your turn, Lawdog. Watch me. C'mon be a team player, like always… I just need a little… a little nap..."

.

A little nap. Andy knew what had to be done.

.

His lids fell open. Blurry at first, the world slowly crawled onto the stage of life and continued its play just for him, raised its blurry curtains and kept on acting for his pathetic sake. The battlefield, all burned and bloody, filled with ants crawling towards a goal unbeknownst to everyone involved. Swords, arts, all biting and burning, tasting and taking. All of it summed up as chaos. Pure, unending chaos.

.

He glanced at W. Out, cold. Gone. Ines, talking to Hedley. She was pointing at something straight ahead, something right in the very middle of the barren no man's land.

.

A bright glow.

.

A deluge of light amidst the sea of darkness.

.

The Sarkaz stopped.

.

The burning ruins collapsed in towards the center. Those monstrous creatures looked down on them from above.

.

A man suddenly emerged from the center of the circle. A very... strange man. Hair, white and longer than should be acceptable by any standard, anywhere. By his side, a sword near twice his size.

.

He wasn't Sarkaz. He stood in the center of the battlefield, his expression unchanging – a constant, knowing grin.

.

Ines was trembling, but Andy couldn't tell why. Hedley stared, gaze empty.

.

The explosion must have damaged their hearing. He couldn't hear what they were saying.

.

But he knew they were afraid.

.

Was it because of him?

.

No, their attention was focused in another direction, on someone else.

.

In the seconds before he lost consciousness, he saw—

.

A... Sarkaz.

.

An unthreatening... slender Sarkaz.

.

The world ceased to exist. Everything went blank. Everything, but the rustling of hair. The light footsteps.

.
.

The warm, upbeat voice.

.

.

Just one. A single monologue.

.

.

.
.

.

.

.

.

"... 'Ello, mate? Anybody home?"

.

"This is the transport team? This… Oh, Lord on a cross."

.

"You're all bleeding all over me kicks, daft bastards. Fuck's sake… Uri? Uri, lend me a hand. Gonna drag these poor chavs outta here."

.

"Just don't crush that one. Yeah, an angel, I know, I know. Be gentle, yeah? Tessie's order."

.

"... Where? You're asking me where? Bloody hell, I dunno?

.

"Maybe the landship, you metal twat? The promised, bloody landship."