Aile was lost, terribly lost. Mommy had told her that when you were lost, you should stay where you were so that someone could find you.

Mommy was dead. The mavericks had killed her.

Aile continued to run, coughing and crying as smoke burned her lungs and darkened the skies. She and her brother had gotten separated in an attack on the amusement park they'd been at, but with so many mavericks crawling through the area and slaughtering everyone they came across, the young girl couldn't spare a moment to look for him. Flames glowed hungrily in her wake, seeking to burn her alive, while red-eyed mechaniloids tracked her movement and sought her out with their gunblasts, their claws, their merciless desires to kill. And so she ran. She ran away from the park, away from the firelight and screams to the dark safety of a forest. Cool and obscuring, its many plants and bushes offered her cover from the mavericks who'd long ago given up on chasing her in favour of easier prey. She ran and ran and ran. Aile darted past more mechaniloids whose eyes were green, which meant they were safe to be near, but after seeing green eyes go red in the park, after remembering the story of friendly crickaleaps who'd suddenly bugged out and killed hundreds in the very forest she was in, Aile simply continued to run. She ran and ran and gasped, but she didn't wail, because she knew the mavericks might hear her.

Aile was tired. She leaped into some bushes by a wall of rock.

Her chest heaving with heavy breaths, she looked around at her surroundings. The sounds of the forest emanated serenely around her, winds rustling through the trees as birdsong trilled from the boughs high above. Aile's cheeks were soaked with tears, knowing her mom loved birds but Mommy was dead and Vent was missing and try as she might she couldn't muffle her sobs entirely. Aile knew she was going to cry. Fearing for her life, however, she knew she needed to find somewhere even safer. But was anywhere truly safe from mavericks? The young girl shuffled deeper into the bush at first, but found her hiding place inadequate after further inspection. She cautiously left the shelter of the shrubbery, eyes furtively scanning the area as she pressed herself against the cliffside and walked deeper, she hoped, into the woods.

Had she not been pressing herself against the stone, she would have missed the crack in the rock.

Aile nearly fell over when she found the fault, a small alcove in the cliffside that was well hidden behind a lump of brush and deceptively deep once she squeezed herself into it. What probably looked like a small crevice, if you could even spot it behind the shrubbery, soon turned into a dark, cold, windy labyrinth of thin tunnels and slanted, jagged fractures in the bedrock. Aile's hands brushed through the long-dead remains of a spider's nest, the brittle carcasses of its prey crunching under her tiny hand. She shivered.

It was cold. It was scary. She couldn't see anything in front of her.

The eyes of mavericks and mechaniloids alike glowed. If they were in here, she would have seen them by now.

It was cold. It was scary. But most of all, it was safe.

Aile's tears began to fall in earnest. She began to sob. Aile wailed, crawling through the darkness, "Mommy… I want mommy! I'm sorry, mommy! I'm sorry, Vent! Wuh…. waaaaaah!" Aile cried and cried and cried, and then screamed in terror when a wrong move sent her skittering and bouncing down some sort of slope. Her already burned and scraped body was subjected to even more abuse. Dizzy and disoriented from the long fall, and with her head, knees and elbows thoroughly throbbing from the assault, it took Aile way longer than she'd like to admit that the air in the cave felt warmer. Her eyes adjusted to the pitch-dark cave, only to realize that maybe it wasn't as dark as she thought it should be.

Was someone there? Was it more mavericks?

Aile cried. She was terrified of more mavericks. She was in pain from the fall and the attack. She was humiliated because she'd peed herself in fear, and she'd never forget the time mommy looked at Vent in disappointment because he'd wet the bed again and she was NEVER gonna be such a baby that she'd do that herself, only she had and it wasn't even in bed and mommy was dead and she was in a cold, dark cave with neither Vent nor mommy nor Miss Trissy from the daycare to give her a hug and tell her that everything would be alright.

She missed mommy. She missed Vent. She was cold and tired and in pain, and alone.

Mommy had told her that if she was scared, or lost, or alone, that she should ask a policeman for help. Maybe caves had policemen. "Help! Help me! I'm lost and scared!" She yelled, "my mommy is dead and the mavericks were after me and Vent is missing and, and, w-w-wwwaaaaaah!" Her cry echoed hopelessly throughout the cave. Her sobs rebounded back at her.

Her voice went unanswered.

Mommy had told her that when you were lost, you should stay where you were so that someone could find you. Mommy was dead. Aile got up and kept walking.

The cave and its many cracks continued as Aile wiggled her way past boulders and over crevasses, the air oppressive and deafened. Salt and grit stung her eyes and cheeks as she doubled back on herself after yet another dead end. Small, nearly unnoticeable lights twinkled from mechanical structures in the walls, doing little to light up the fearsome tunnels. Thick cables could be seen on occasion as they snaked through various surfaces. Wiring like that meant that maybe someone lived and worked here, right? Aile called out again, "Hello? Help? Are there any policemen here? Help!" She waited eagerly for a response. This time, unlike the last, her calls were heard. A noise grabbed her attention. A small bat mechaniloid stared down at her from the ceiling. Blue wings opened up as it looked at her and tiny, needle-like nails dug into the stalactite it hung from.

Its eyes were red.

Aile screamed, the shrill sound overwhelming the previously-silent atmosphere in the cave. The bat screeched back, its cry all but drowned out by her horror. It swooped at her as she turned and ran. Had she been looking she might have noticed that its eyes blinked when it got too close to her, and that it broke off its attack so haphazardly that it flew itself into a wall, as if it had realized a mistake and had over-corrected itself. Instead Aile stumbled and tripped and banged herself against stone and metal as she fled, her wails echoing off the green-tinged bedrock around her. There was no shelter in the cave that she could see. It was too dark, and her eyes burned from all her tears and the smoke from the earlier maverick raid. She ran smack into a boulder. This proved to be a lucky break, because this boulder was large and flat and hung over a small fissure that she could squeeze herself into. Aile rammed herself into the tiny space and shoved her fist in her mouth, practically choking herself in an effort to remain unheard.

There was a tiny sound of metal scraping against metal. The bat was flapping, flying around… yet, as Aile listened, petrified in her hiding place, she realized that the sound was dissipating. Going away, as if the bat had flown the wrong direction.

She was still too scared to move.

It could have been hours that passed, days, before Aile heard anything else. She was terrified, practically mindless, so the concept of time was beyond her. Aile couldn't even feel her own body through the adrenaline and the cold. The girl only knew that something had happened because the rhythmic sound of grit and metal could be slowly heard approaching her hiding place. A dim, carmine glow lit up the cavern.

"Weil? Is that you?"

The voice was cautious, gentle, slightly incredulous.

It was getting closer.

Aile panicked. She scrambled out from under the boulder, clumsy and awkward with fear. She didn't even get three paces before something moved behind her and she was pinned to the ground in an unrelenting grip. She screamed instinctively, kicked out, and was summarily flipped over despite her protests. She wailed and wriggled and slapped and bit at the thing imprisoning her, and begged, "No no no! No!" It was all to no avail. She was trapped. Piercing red eyes stared down at her, the deepest and brightest red she'd ever seen. They blazed relentlessly as they took in her feeble efforts. This was it. She'd be murdered any second now, killed, dead. Dead like mommy.

There was a pause.

"You're not Weil."

Aile felt herself be lifted off the ground. She squealed, wordless and high-pitched with fear at the surety of her demise. Instead she found herself thoroughly enfolded and imprisoned by bars. She flailed. She gave everything she had to try and escape. It was all for naught, however; she had far too little to give after the events that led up to this moment, and as she finally let her exhausted limbs fall and her head droop against a firm surface, Aile began to realize something else. She was not dead. Her prison was warm, the bars were limbs, and a heartbeat emanated from her jailer's chest.

These red eyes were… not a threat?

"You're not Weil," the voice reiterated, tone purposely smoothed and softened, "but you look a lot like him."

Aile trembled in his grip, for the voice was male, and hung on tightly to the thin illusion of safety he presented, "N-n-n-no. I-I'm n-not-t-t-t." Her voice was nervous and stuttered from her earlier exertion.

"The mechaniloids seemed to think you were close enough," the growl soothed, "tell me, what is your name?"

Aile looked up. The man's eyes, while red, were not filled with a desire for her blood. They were not entirely kind either, hard with caution and curiosity both. "A-Aile. My name is… is… Aile."

"Aile," he repeated. Her name sounded almost familiar on his tongue. "Aile. That means 'wing', does it not? You're far from the sky, little bird. How did you get here? And do you know of Weil?"

Aile sniffled. She looked up at the man, tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. He blinked. That gesture, that small movement of his eyelids was, for some reason, the last straw. The dam broke and she was crying all over again, gasping and mewling. "I-I-I was at a park w-with Mommy and Vent, and then th-there were screams, and then there w-w-were mavericks, and mommy got shot and Vent is missing and mommy is dead and, and, and… wwwaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

Red eyes blinked at the assault. Clearly the stranger was taken aback by all this, and mommy had always told her to be weary of strangers, but mommy was dead and she was in a cave and a maverick was holding her and everything was just way, way too much for her small body to handle. Her captor just sighed, sat down cross-legged in the dirt, and let her bawl it out.

Time once again passed. By the time she was done she was sure her eyes were dry as a cactus, swollen red as they were, and her various scrapes and bruises stung and throbbed. She was thirsty, and tired, and hungry, and tired, and in pain and tired, but she wasn't scared because she was just way too tired to be scared anymore. It helped that the man holding her didn't seem to mind her breakdown at all, but then again, she wasn't entirely sure what he thought of it all. His posture had been stiff the whole time she'd been crying it out, nor had he said a word during the freakout. She sniffled as she felt a trickle from her nose, "I-I'm…. Sorry mister. Thank you for hugging me. I'm sorry. I'm all gross, and I shouldn't have touched you without asking because mommy said that's rude, and I peed myself, and probably got it on you and I'm icky and ew. I'm sorry."

The man snorted, the gust of air moving some of the golden stands draped over her. He'd taken his helmet off sometime during her crying session, and it turned out he had some pretty long hair, "If I wasn't used to being covered with a little piss and blood by now, I'd make for a very poor maver-... uh. I mean. Erm. A very poor fighter. Trust me. I've seen big brave adults wet themselves before, and a whole lot worse than you, too. Don't think on it."

Aile rubbed away some snot, "It's okay Mister, I know you're a maverick. Mavericks have red eyes and they're bad and scary and will hurt you. But you're not too bad, you're a nice maverick and you're not hurting me, so it's okay."

He snorted again, and tousled her hair a little. "You're tolerable, Aile. My name is Omega." He finally stood up, transferring her weight so that she was sat on his waist. He had one arm gripping her back and another brushing her hair out of her eyes, just like Trissy used to do. "Now I know how you got here. I still wonder if you know about Weil, though." He looked down at her, clearly trying his best, but not exactly comfortable with things at the moment. That was okay. She wasn't too happy with things either.

"I'm sorry. I don't know a Weil," she admitted, more than a little worried. What if he didn't like her for not knowing Weil? "But maybe you could tell me about him? Please?"

The maverick paused once more, then gave a fond huff. "Well. Alright. Let's get you cleaned up." Even though he said he'd tell her, Aile could tell that the man didn't seem sure about where to start. As he walked down the corridor with her in hand, Omega frowned, a tiny but noticeable gesture, and his eyes flicked about. Whether he was looking for danger, or perhaps simply pondering what to say, Aile didn't know. But he was very slow in saying anything, which was okay, because Aile was very good and patient and well-behaved and mommy told her you were supposed to think about what you said before you said it, so it made sense that mister Omega was thinking too. The moment he finally opened his mouth to talk, Aile gave him her full attention. "He was a friend of mine. Very good with machines, and planning, and people. Things that bore me but are still important. We were allies. You look like him when he was your age, actually. He once showed me a photograph. Although, perhaps, that's not quite right. He was much older than you, in a way," Omega began. Aile frowned, but listened intently to the description, "Even in the photo, he was older, taller, and don't be offended, but much smarter. He didn't go getting lost in caves or yelling loud enough to wake the dead." The maverick's lips tilted at the corner, as if he'd told a bit of a joke, but Aile just wanted to cry at those words. Realizing his misstep, he back-pedaled. For a moment he seemed lost, then a spark entered his eyes and he leaned down, continuing their conversation conspiratorially, "Just between you and me…. He used to have the most ridiculous looking bowl-cut I'd ever seen."

Aile looked up at him blankly, "What's a bowl-cut?"

"A type of hairstyle," he explained, "so named because it looks like you placed a bowl upside-down on your head. Or something."

Aie thought about it for a moment. She thought about Vent, because if Weil looked like her then he looked like Vent, and thought real hard about a bowl-cut. She remembered her mom's favourite salad bowl, covered in daisies and brilliant orange, and began to laugh at the mental image of Vent wearing his hair like that.

Vent hated that bowl.

She couldn't stop laughing. It actually hurt.

"Your hair is a lot browner than his was," Omega continued once she stopped to catch her breath, "it was very dark when he was young. I knew him when he was much older though, old and gray enough to be your grandfather. In fact, I suspect he may be your ancestor in some way. It's something of a shock to me," he admitted. Omega looked very uncomfortable with saying so much, but Aile was staring at him because he was talking, following his every word since he was smart enough to know who Weil was and because he was the adult and seemed to know what to do. Adults always knew what to do. She kept looking at him, nodding at his revelations.

An awkward pause occurred. Was she supposed to say something? But what should she say? She pondered for a moment before a giggle overtook her once more, "So he had a bowl-cut?"

"A bowl-cut," he echoed.

She remembered the funny mental image of Vent with a bowl on his head. She remembered Vent. "My brother is missing," she began meekly, "I really miss him."

Omega paused. He seemed to consider something heavily, staring at the wall for a moment as he did so. Then he turned to her, "Your brother?"

"Yeah. Vent. He's my brother. He looks just like me! We're frat-term-ill twins Mommy said, I think it has something to do with whoever my dad was, but we never met him and that's okay because me and my brother both like mommy more anyways. Trissy from daycare said that he was probably a dumb meanie anyways."

Omega's eyes narrowed, his expression, mild as it was, halfway between curiosity and exasperation. Exasperation was a big word, but she knew it because Trissy was also smart and taught her things. She didn't think it was a good thing though.

Trissy had been at the amusement park.

Aile whimpered and tucked herself into Omega's side. Trissy was also missing. The maverick huffed at the action, but seemed to come to a decision as he gazed at her. "Well, I suppose we'd better find him. Do you remember how you got down here?" he asked, firmly but not unkindly.

"Uhm. I came through the caves!" She pointed back the way she came, "but I don't remember the exact way! They're really squiggly!"

Omega looked annoyed. Aile quieted down, upset that she'd made him mad, but he merely sighed and turned around to face the path she'd pointed at. "Hmm. This could take a while."

He wasn't wrong. Omega was very fast and agile, running and jumping and navigating the tunnels with a speed that frankly scared Aile. But he was also warm, and had her in a very strong hold, and before she knew it she'd fallen asleep in his arms. She didn't wake up until a lot later. Omega was gently tapping her side, looking around the forest, "Hey. Get up."

She groaned. "What?" She looked up at the night sky, "It's bed-time."

"Where do I go from here-oh." His eyes locked onto a distant glow, the dull but persistent heat of a fire glowing through fog and smoke in the distance. "That way, I take it."

Aile simply whined and tucked her head into his shoulder. Neither of them said anything more.

As the light grew brighter despite the night, and the smell of ash and cinders filled her nostrils once more, Aile shut her eyes tight and shuddered in Omega's grip. The man had slowed down a lot, moving in furtive spurts as he surveyed the area. With a quick jerk of his arm and a few gunblasts, Aile heard as several mavericks exploded nearby. She shut her eyes tighter and pushed herself into Omega's body as much as she could. She didn't want to see them. She didn't want to see the mavericks.

She didn't want to see the bodies she knew were nearby.

"...Aile." She remained silent. "Aile. Where did you last see your brother?"

"We were by the, the uh, the fairies' wheel."

Vent was missing. They'd find him, though. They had to. Omega would find him.

"You mean the ferris wheel?"

"Yah."

They traveled some more. Acrid scents made her cough and gag at the smells of burnt flesh and hair and other horrid things she wished she'd never known about. Omega was solemn as he moved around the region. Aile finally opened her eyes, her vision filled with an ashen palette as the colourful yet burnt remains of the amusement park mocked her with their ruined levity. It was hard to see in the dark, except for right there, right by a food stand that was toppled over and still brightly lit with the smell of cooking oil. She looked at it and saw about a dozen squished hot dogs, half-melted cotton candy, and the spaghetti of a man's guts strewn about. There was a big red puddle there, too.

So. Tummies looked like noodles on the inside. She wished she didn't know that, either.

Omega seemed to realize that she'd seen something bad, because he put his hand on her head and hummed, "Not a pretty sight, Aile." He grabbed a beanie from someone's body, shook it about to dislodge some grit, and placed it over her head so that it obscured her vision. "It's not looking good. The fight's been over for some time now."

Aile's throat squeezed tight, because she knew Vent had to be around somewhere because she didn't see him die and Vent was always really brave and quick so he had obviously survived. Obviously. With a strained wheeze she yelled, "Vent! Veeeeeent!" She wailed at Omega, "He's gotta be somewhere! Vent!"

Her voice was shrill and loud. Omega snorted, "Ouch. You've sure got a pair of lungs. Tch. Fine." He heaved in a breath, and Aile wished she'd covered her ears, because the roar he bellowed out afterwards could have drowned out reality itself, "Vent! Your sister is here! Vent! VENT!"

There was no reply. Aile pulled off the beanie looking around, "VENT! VEN-!"

She saw her mommy.

The corpse was riddled with holes, scorched at the fringes and twisted like an overused ragdoll. The smell was unbearable, unforgettable, so wretched Aile wanted to look away and cover her nose, but she couldn't stop staring and the smell made her sick. She flung herself away, but Omega's reflexes were too good and he caught her against his leg. This combination of movement, of horrible smells and vertigo and trauma, was way too much. She puked. Omega was clearly not happy with the event, especially since he ended up wearing half of it. The red-eyed man looked like he was barely holding back a sneer of disgust, which was bad and mean because that was her wonderful beautiful loving parent over there, shattered and discarded like a bottle in the gutter. His expression quickly went blank, however, when she wailed once more, "Mo... Mommy…!"

He looked over at her mother. He looked down at her. His silence was all that needed to be said.

Aile picked herself up and walked over to the body, Omega trailing closely behind her. That's when she saw, within arms reach of her mother, a tiny backpack that she knew all too well. It was Vent's. It was Vent's, no doubt about it, because she recognized the frayed straps and the stuffed puppy charm with one eye. She recognized it even though it was half-soaked through with blood from the puddle around her mom. Said puddle was big. Too big, she thought, for one person. How could there be so much red? Aile waddled through it as she went to pick up the backpack, clutching it to herself tightly. Aile cried. "Ve…Veee… Veeeeeeennnt…!"

Aile thought she'd already cried as much as a human being could possibly cry, but apparently she wasn't done yet. Dehydrated as she was, though, there weren't any tears, just soreness and misery as she started feeling pukey once again. She felt Omega tense beside her. He was quiet for a long time. "Aile," he finally said, "it's not safe here. I can hear mavericks making a sweep. A cleanup crew. I could easily fight them, since we've announced our location, but there's a risk of you being hit by a stray shot. We should go."

She didn't protest. Instead she grabbed the beanie and her brother's backpack, shoving the former over her head. With one of her hands full, she reached towards Omega with the other. He picked her up and with that, they were off. She fell in and out of awareness as he whisked her away, only really coming to for a short time when he washed them both off in a stream. It wasn't a perfect bath, not even close, so cold it made her upset, but she was too tired and hurt to make any noise about it. Her mind blinked in and out of existence as they retreated. Her breaths were slow and heavy, the night muffled and quiet as she drifted to sleep.

"Damn it, Weil," she heard him mutter when he thought she was unconscious, "you're going to owe me for this."