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Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Backdraft's bases were occasionally raided by ZBGF law enforcement. Usually an annoyance, sometimes a setback, but never an actual problem. This time, it was a problem. Growing up, Vega had treated this ongoing evasion like a game. A game, just like everything else in his life had been.

Had been. He'd lost to Bit in the course of the Royal Cup. It was a fair, if not intense, series of events. Everything afterward had seemed normal, but he'd no idea of how things were about to change.

Sara and other Backdraft personnel arrived in a flurry and whisked he and his Zoid away - home, he thought, but she'd tersely informed him that the main base was a loss and they'd be headed elsewhere for a while.

A frown. Dissatisfaction. Vega looked up at her. "What about my cat."

"We'll get you a new cat."

Vega wanted to protest, but was afforded a strange, unsettling glimpse into thoughts unspoken: his cat was dead. His room lay in ruins. Most of the base had been subject to literal orbital bombardment, and that was that. A lot of equipment had been destroyed, a lot of people were dead. Sara was tense, upset. The cat? Didn't register.

The magnitude of the issue hit him, though he couldn't muster much feeling about it. He simply went quiet, quivering with exhaustion. His dark hair was matted to his neck, stale with sweat from the battle. All he could smell was the dried blood in his sinuses. He wanted a shower, and he wanted rest. For one of the first times in his life he found himself being denied what he wanted - and he resented it terribly.

Intellectually, he knew this wasn't punishment. It was simply unfortunate happenstance. His gut twinged, though: it sure did feel like punishment.

It felt a lot worse, actually. A wave of nausea washed over him. He felt disgusting.

"Sara. I don't feel well."

"We'll be at the base soon."

They were. He disembarked the small Zoid and watched the damaged Fury be hurriedly unloaded into a too-small bay. This particular mountain base had never housed the Fury or any Zoid much larger than a Saix. Vega dully watched as a handful of mechanics debated how to best address the issue, his contempt flaring as they tried and failed to rearrange the massive Zoid. He wanted the Fury to wake up and just stand where they were trying to put it. Yet the emptiness in the back of his mind informed him that the Fury was truly, deeply unconscious, and could oblige no such request.

A sigh. The battle with the Liger took a tremendous toll on them both. He was feeling worse with each passing second, and wasn't sure why.

Feverish. Light-headed. Thirsty. He didn't know this base, didn't know where the mess hall or commissary was. Ire and nausea fought as he staggered into an unfamiliar corridor, getting only a few steps before he collapsed to his hands and knees, shaking. Vega's eyes closed and wanted to stay that way, every muscle keening with pain and a lack of desire to move. He was so tired, but found himself firmly conscious - strangely surging with adrenaline as would be someone poised on a precipice. Something in his mind recognized serious danger: these conflicting sensations were excruciating.

A few moments later he found himself helped to his feet by someone in the hangar. A woman wearing piloting gear; probably one of the numerous patrol pilots stationed here. She looked concerned. Vega blearily looked her in the eyes - he had no idea who she was, but everyone in the Backdraft group knew him.

"Obscura, sir. Are you all right?"

He wasn't. He waved her away, but asked feebly, "Can - can I have a drink?"

Without hesitation the pilot unbuckled a water canister from her belt, and handed it to the young man. He took it without thanks and greedily drank.

"Sir. You don't look well. Do you know where the medical bay is?"

He didn't; he shook his head. Vega emptied the canister and stared into it, trying to recall if he'd ever felt this thirsty in his life. He hadn't. Nausea swept him again, now with no temperance. He wondered where Sara had gone, wondered why they'd had to come to this stupid base he didn't know, and wondered-

The sensation wasn't unlike falling. He both saw, and knew, he'd gone nowhere - but his mind shrieked with incoherence as if the floor had been removed. The Berserk Fury's armored tail and haunch grated deafeningly across concrete, its upper body twisting as it struggled to right itself. The mechanics nearby wisely scattered after receiving a demeaning sweep of deep-red optics. Vega's gaze snapped to the hangar. Brief elation withered as an unbidden rage surged.

Boy and Zoid alike screamed.

Chapter Text

Things changed after the Royal Cup.

Not terribly, but they changed.

With the unscheduled break in battling while the worldwide Satellite issues were being sorted, a lot of catching up was done. Parties held between rival teams, spendy celebrations by high-tier victors, Zoids given thorough, doting maintenance.

Team allegiances changed. True to his word (and much to Naomi's delight), Brad ended his employment with the Blitz Team and signed onto Team Fluegel. Despite much playful prodding to stay, Leon took this switch as his cue to return to his father's Team. With Brad gone and Leena deciding to go off to college after the Royal Cup's harrowing events, the Blitz Team would be in need of another warrior.

Toros could no longer deny that Bit had paid off his outstanding debts. For all intents and purposes, Bit was now the Liger's sole owner - not that anyone had ever contested that, or would dare try take it away. The blonde could've gone anywhere, done anything, but decided to hang around the Team he had no real reason to leave. They were basically family at this point, and it wasn't as if he had anywhere else to be. Besides, Jaime was a really good cook.

Layon recovered from the injuries he'd sustained during the Royal Cup within a few weeks. He was surprised when, ultimately, no ZBGF personnel showed up. He'd expected to have to come up with some long-winded tale to disavow his involvement with Backdraft. Instead there were just nurses, doctors, and Toros, who showed up to have a solemn talk with him early on.

Toros was genuinely grateful that Layon had saved Leena. For once, the leader of the Blitz Team didn't jeer, he didn't jab, didn't try to one-up Layon in the slightest. Just said his piece and left, cautioning the man against getting mixed up with the wrong crowd again.

After being discharged from the hospital, Layon promptly ignored that advice.

With some of his on-hand cash, Layon picked out a small Rev Raptor with which to get around. Agile, fleet, and more than capable of defending itself, it was a good, cheap holdover until Layon figured out how to proceed.

Proceed… not only with his life and work in general, but with how he'd go about replacing his destroyed Whale King. Whale Kings weren't common and usually had to be custom built. He was hoping that Backdraft might have a spare, or at least one he could use. But returning to the main Backdraft HQ proved impossible. It was abandoned, in ruins, and cordoned off - presumably by the ZBGF.

His young Rev Raptor craned its neck at the destruction, curious. Layon idly began to wonder if the amount of times he found himself leery of and/or cursing the ZBC and ZBGF pointed to a problem.

With them, of course.

Layon didn't think for a second that the Backdraft Organization was gone. And he knew he'd still be of value to them - as were likewise they to him. Backdraft, with its rich donors and deep pockets, had sophisticated bases all over the world. Many of those had large transports. Surely they could spare one for their resident genius. None of the comm channels or frequencies he knew were transmitting, however. Unable to make contact, he debated his next move.

The Rev Raptor chuffed at its pilot's long inaction.

Layon actually had a small house - well, small base/lab - of his own. It was closest to Backdraft's Mackaray base, an extensive and well-hidden underground complex largely used for R&D. Because of its resources and closeness to where he'd been living anyways, it was the base he'd worked at most, and was thus most familiar with.

He shrugged to himself, and set off that way.

The room was dark and smelled of medicine and electronics.

Sara stood beside a medical bed, looking down at her unconscious son. Vega was practically smothered by leads, wires, tubes - he was in a medically-induced coma. Silent and still bar the rhythmic hum and hiss of the ventilator.

She knew someone was there, behind her, watching. She said nothing for a long time, waiting to see if Alteil would announce his presence. Walk closer. Do anything. But he didn't, just stood. Dangerous blue eyes finally slid with a sharp glance.

"This is your fault."

The man looked down his nose at her. "Who, exactly, couldn't wait to give away what I found?"

"You lied to me. Lied to the Committee."

Alteil's face twisted. Smug, but terse. "Perhaps. But you've been lying since you got here. I had some catching up to do."

She turned to the man, expression tight with anger. "How dare you. How dare you take your petty bullshit out on him!"

"I tried to stop this."

"You tried to kill him."

"Sara. Who in their right mind gives such a powerful force as an Ultimate X Zoid to a child, with minimal testing or oversight?"

Her eyes went dead with the effort of withholding emotion; she had no answer. Alteil held up a data-tablet in her direction, but it was an item that clearly came with conditions. Sara glanced at it, then him.

"Step down, and tell the Committee you were wrong." Alteil said. "Then you can have this."

She refused to give him the satisfaction of betraying the desperation eating her alive.

"What is that?"

"These are documents we unearthed with the Berserk Fury and the Geno Saurers. The information was unfortunately well-encrypted and took us quite some time to get into." Alteil wasn't as good at masking his inner state: his jaw set, cold. "There was a reason they buried the thing."

"What reason?"

Alteil shook his head, withdrew the tablet, and turned away. "No resignation, no information."

"You're lying. That's not real, is it."

Sara watched Alteil's face tick through a spectrum of surprised microexpressions, but none of them revealed what she wanted: verification. She'd always had an inexplicably sharp sense of others, and it told her with its unwavering precision that Alteil really wasn't lying. He did have the information he claimed to.

"Sara. The Berserk Fury is dangerous. We've made a mistake."

"What kind of mistake!?"

Alteil silently shook the tablet. Sara sighed.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"Then let's go speak with the Committee, first. They should know as well."

"So… it's genuinely Imperial?"

One obscured member of the Committee of Seven leaned towards the videscreen curiously. Alteil twitched a brow at the wide row of monitors representing the Committee's presence. It'd be a while before they convened again in any physical sense, given how thoroughly they'd scattered from the recent duress.

"Yes." Alteil replied. "As you're aware, it was found buried in the sea, with a number of rare Geno Saurers buried nearby. Only the Guylos Empire ever produced Geno Saurers, and this documentation indicates that the Berserk Fury, itself a unique and unrecorded Zoid, is an… an evolution, of the Geno Saurer."

"Zoids don't evolve." Another of the Committee scoffed. "They're built."

"I... I don't think Ultimate X's are."

This drew various laughter. Alteil scowled. Even after...

Sara stood to one side, shrouded in darkness, chagrined and disgraced by what she'd been forced to admit only minutes prior. She glanced up and glowered at Alteil, but her rage burned hot at the Committee as well. She had been voraciously combing through the documents on the tablet. Alteil wasn't embellishing a damn thing. Yet...

"Do you mean to say you've discovered Organoids too?" Another of the Committee said, humored. "Have you found wild Orudios gallivanting about as well?"

More roiling laughter. Snide, unpleasant. Alteil looked at Sara blankly. Sara, however, snapped.

"We did this so we could down the Satellites, so we could isolate the Royal Cup participants, so we could provide you all with the best entertainment. He went on his wild goose chase and came back with a peacock. And you still won't take him seriously. This isn't a joke. These are military Zoids. That's why they have charged particle weapons. Alteil's ridiculous persistence is the only reason we even had access to a charged particle weapon to begin with. Given these Zoids' performance and what we've seen out of them, why would any of this," The woman brandished the tablet at the row of screens, "be funny? What reason do you have to think it's not true?"

Silence, for a few moments.

Then, chiding: "Organoids aren't real, Sara."

"Ultimate X's certainly are." Alteil muttered.

Various murmurings from the group. They discussed something amongst themselves. Then:

"This doesn't really matter. When will the Berserk Fury be available for use again?"

The room went icy, hostile.

"Vega is very ill." Sara enunciated carefully, walking a razor wire of composure. "I don't kn-"

"You shouldn't have let Obscura pilot such a dangerous Zoid. It's our sincere hope that our King recovers, as our clientele do love seeing his extraordinary battles. That wasn't what I asked."

After seconds of quiet, Alteil realized that Sara had no response. He spoke up in her stead. "We'll let you know as soon as repairs are complete."

"Very good."

Polta stood off to one side, also having been present in the dark the whole time. At a gesture from Alteil, he shut off the comm-link and carefully idled the equipment. His terse expression never changed, his attention fixed on Sara.

Sara simply stared at the empty screens. Alteil wanted to smirk at her, but it died halfway to his face. A pyrrhic victory.

"We have to get rid of it." He said.

The silence hung. After a few seconds she shook her head and mumbled something about Vega.

"Sara. That Zoid was condemned. By Gunther Prozen himself."

Sara didn't know her history books as well as Alteil did, and her confused, dismissive scowl said as much. The man grunted, unimpressed.

"The Imperial Army decided not to use it. In a war."

The woman shook her head again, more rapidly, clicking a fingernail on the screen of the tablet. "No. This says the pilots all died. Quickly. Vega piloted it for days. And he isn't… he's not dying. He's fine. He's just…" She lacked a good descriptor.

"Caught up in it?" Polta offered.

"Yes."

Alteil couldn't really argue any of that, but his expression made it clear he didn't care. "The Fury goes crazy if Vega's awake. We can't - what options do you think we have here? That thing has charged particle weaponry. It can easily kill us all. HE can easily kill us all."

"He w-" Sara thought better of a complete denial, and that alone pushed a note of fear into her words. "The Fury's been stripped down. It's contained. And they know they can't fire the cannon without-"

"Sara." Alteil's voice surged with hostility. "I'm not interested in risking the lives of everyone here for the sake of your brat."

Silence. The woman leveled a severe gaze. "You are asking me to kill my son."

Alteil didn't speak but his answer was obvious, etched into every line of his face.

The two looked like opposed vipers, cold study balanced with a lofty ponderance of when to strike. Polta glanced uneasily between them.

"Sir. Ma'am. What if we- what if we tried to find it another pilot?"

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, no one in the Backdraft Organization was interested in piloting the Fury. Reasons varied, but the overall theme was consistent: it terrified them.

Backdraft may have had issues following rules and obeying the general order of society, but they were fairly orderly within. Beneath the usual politics involved with a near-endless stream of some of humanity's ugliest money, there was a quasi-military sense of structure and function. Because of the recent heavy - and demoralizing - losses, it made no sense to coerce anyone into a piloting role they clearly weren't comfortable with. Especially not given what they'd be put at the helm of.

It was quite the conundrum, and Alteil was right. Realistically, the Berserk Fury was incredibly dangerous. If Vega couldn't handle it, who could? How did it make any sense to simply hand off such a destructive force to someone else instead?

She wasn't even sure they could destroy the Zoid. After all, it had simply been buried, despite a clear desire to see it gone. And even if they did re-bury or destroy it - what of Vega? Every time they tried allowing him back into consciousness, he and the Zoid simply screamed. When she'd first heard it, she'd thought it was a sound of anger. Subsequently, she realized, no: it was one of terror.

Sara's hope, however slim, was that perhaps with a different pilot made available the Berserk Fury could be enticed to fixate elsewhere. Disengage. And then the problem could be dealt with more easily. More… palatably.

The Zoid itself was strictly contained in one of the narrow underground hangars, bowed slightly. Offline. At least it seemed that way.

Sara neared, and quickly realized that wasn't true. She had the distinct sense it was awake. Just waiting. Stuck.

It was the first time she'd truly approached the beast alone. Truth be told, it intimidated her as much as it intimidated everyone else. But when presented with Vega's sudden fondness for it, she'd - foolishly, in retrospect - set her concerns aside.

The saurian Zoid had a strange magnetism about it. She wanted to hate the thing, but at the same time felt pity. She convinced herself it was what pity she felt for Vega, but that was very much a lie. Something furious, something sorrowful, something that begged for help but snapped at every hand that came near. She received these impressions in a mental jolt, and took a startled step back.

Had this thing really somehow been an Organoid, at some point? The documentation was clear, but it was such a bizarre thought to entertain. Not just because Organoids were considered the equivalent of childrens' fairy tales - complete fiction - but because almost everything described about the Fury upended everything she thought she knew about Zoids.

Deeply, it noticed her. She noticed its notice.

By this, it was clearly piqued.

~Come to me.~

Velvet smooth, deep, dark. It spoke to her.

For no real reason she could identify, she wanted to come closer. But every bone in her body, in a show of collective wisdom, froze her solid with fright.

~Sara. Do you want power?~

She did.

Feeling disgraced, having resigned from her position, dealing with the guilt and horror of what'd happened to Vega, along with the horror of…

~Do you want control?~

Sara's neck went taut with restraint. She pieced together that this - this really was the Zoid speaking, and this terrifying beast was somehow purring straight into her head. It was simultaneously the best and worst thing to ever cross her mind. If Vega's initial experience had been anything like this, it was no wonder he'd become so enamored.

The unpleasant thought of Vega lying still, across the base, miserably unconscious, brought her out of it. It dislodged the Fury's tentative hold from her as well, the Zoid reflecting both disgust and pining at the notion of Vega's comatose state.

"What do you want?" She snapped aloud at it.

Despite the Zoid's bodily stillness, one red optic lit. Amid a froth of hatred, a single, brief mental image: the Liger Zero. Along with a deep, excruciating need to absolutely annihilate it.

Brad wasn't terribly social, but Naomi enjoyed the occasional night out. Their compromise? Occasional nights on the town in Romeo City, where Team Fluegel was headquartered and they both now lived.

It wasn't a huge city, but possessed sufficiently-scintillating night life for the Red Comet. Brad found himself fond of a particular bar that was a regular mercenary hangout. Lit with neon, brick-walled, kept warm from the desert's freezing nights, but not stale or stuffy. The chatter here was relevant and unpresumptuous, and unlike many similar establishments they let people smoke and vape inside. This both had a lot to do with its attraction factor, and added a surreal neon haze.

Battles remained suspended, so there were a lot of restless, bored pilots and Warriors. Informal groupings, teams, bets and the like sprang up instead, drawing the ire but not condemnation of the ZBC. People needed money, and people liked to play with their big mechanical toys. Disciplining people for such, especially since the suspension of battles was precautionary, was out of line and wouldn't work anyways - not for these sorts of folks. Zoid Warriors in particular, and mercenary pilots second-most because money was king.

Brad noticed, but didn't especially care, when several regulars went missing over a span of a few weeks. Some concern was expressed by the bartenders, but mercenaries were indeed a transient lot.

Transient and self-selecting for a lot of movement, a lot of inconsistency, a lot of willingness to travel for the right amount of money.

Over a wide swath of the continent, Zoid pilots here-and-there went missing.

A disproportionate amount of them were mercenaries or pilots down on their luck. The issue: many of those people had little in the way of a social network. Had anyone been wise to these happenings, the pattern would've been clear: intentional, purpose-driven abduction of Zoid pilots who wouldn't be missed.

But with battles suspended and travel at a minimum, communities used to traveling bands of competition simply huddled down and kept to themselves. Humanity on Zi was conducted by one world government, so there weren't open political issues; news on a wide scale was generally limited to governmental edicts, food or water supply issues, and meteorite showers. Much of the planet's conflict boiled down to being the fault of small terrorist groups, the Backdraft Organization, or extreme religious sects. And those rarely, if ever, were able to cause wide-scale disruption.

It wasn't until the Tasker sisters showed up in Romeo City, inquiring after Jack, and a few weeks after that the man had been discovered dead in the middle of nowhere, that Brad paid attention.

Brad sat idly in Naomi's apartment, in a comfortable, denim-colored robe. He was sipping coffee and staring at a datapad that held the morning's news. Jack Sisco: the famous Saix pilot (who, Brad knew still did off-and-on mercenary work) had been found dead after going missing. The media deemed this worth widespread reporting, and public's wave of responsive anxiety reinforced this.

Brad looked up at Naomi, who was in a similar state of lazy half-dressed, standing at her own laptop PC on the counter. She was pondering a readout over breakfast as well.

"Hey. You see this?"

"News with Jack? Yeah. Sucks."

"Not really like him." Brad said, frowning. He was referring to the common-conclusion that Jack had wandered off, apparently to kill himself. It was one bolstered by the fact that there weren't really any signs of foul play, just the man and his Zoid found dead in the middle of nowhere.

"That's what Kelly said," Naomi replied. She didn't know Jack well herself, but she was fairly close acquaintances with the Taskers.

With a glance over her shoulder, she regarded Brad, recalling that the two men had been similarly acquainted. But Brad didn't look upset. He didn't have much of an expression on his face at all, really.

"We were supposed to time-trial the Fox and Saix against each other, when the Judges came back online."

Naomi wasn't sure what to say to that. So after a few moments:

"...I'm sorry."

Brad shrugged and stood, looking out the window. He took another long, ponderous sip of coffee. Naomi went back to what she was doing, and it was quiet in the apartment for a few minutes.

Then: "Wonder if those other guys are dead too."

A glance.

"Come again?"

"A few guys I know. Hang out at our local place. Mercs. Over the last few weeks. Months? Just gone. Nobody's seen 'em again."

"They probably left town because there's nothing to do here."

Romeo City was fairly central to many larger towns and cities. It had ended up being called Romeo City for a reason. "...babe, most of them live here."

Naomi heard Brad trying to keep the wary dip out of his voice, but he wasn't succeeding. Clearly bothered, he continued to hide behind sips of coffee until Naomi knew he must've run out. He finally sighed, and turned to her.

"I want to get out of town. Clear my head."

"I heard the last time you did that, you came back with a new Zoid and a fun story."

"Actually, I went camping all the time when I was on Blitz." He gave a small shrug. "Nobody cared until I came back with the Fox. It'd be weeks sometimes between matches, you know? Especially before Bit."

"Ah. Too many lunatics, too little asylum?"

"Yep. I'm a simple man. With simple needs." He raised his brows suggestively, and the two smirked together. He then motioned yonder. "But really. Quiet's one of them."

Naomi searched his face. "You're upset about Jack."

"I certainly don't want to sit here for the next several weeks dwelling on that."

"Understandable."

Brad closed her laptop in front of her. "Come with me? It'll be relaxing."

Naomi stared for a few moments at the PC as it went to sleep, before glancing back up at Brad.

Sure. Not like they were doing anything else for the duration.

Chapter Text

It was admittedly strange having someone tag along, but it was nice. Side-by-side the Shadow Fox and Gun Sniper ran, their pace turning casual only once they'd left the flatlands and deserts behind. Naomi let Brad lead the way, as he seemed to know the rocky terrain well - and the Fox was clearly better at finding good paths for the two Zoids.

They took the scenic routes, stopping every so often to have a snack or relish in one another's company. Their path took them far from any well-traveled routes. As they slipped into the thicker forest, the Fox seemed right at home - at times, nearly invisible, golden eyeglass sweeping the underbrush carefully.

The further they went, the more Naomi understood the appeal this must've held for Brad. All Zoid Warriors were familiar with the idea of camping - spending the night usually beside a battlefield or road, hammock or small tent slung beneath the towering comfort of one's Zoid. But this sort of camping? The kind where one waded into pure wilderness, simply for the love of solitude, aching to disappear from view...

The Fox emerged into a clearing, tamping the earth with its paws as it came to a halt. It trilled at the Gun Sniper as it arrived beside, and the Gun Sniper likewise halted. They'd arrived at what was clearly an established site, and it must've been Brad's. The man hopped out of the Fox and went to a small, rocky firepit in the clearing, eager to start a fire in the dusky light.

It was too late to set up camp fully, but it wasn't difficult to make things comfortable. The two were soon sipping coffee and eating a warm meal, the fire warm and soothing against the growing night.

Naomi watched Brad simply sit with his eyes closed, apparently enjoying the quiet.

"You really do like it out here."

"Mm."

"Don't you get lonely?"

The man took a sip of his coffee. "No."

The Shadow Fox watched them both from across the clearing, eyeglass softly glowing. Naomi glanced at it, then around.

"Isn't this near where you found the Shadow Fox?"

Brad shook his head, and motioned vaguely. "Further north. Mount Iselina. Mackaray range."

"Ah. There's a nice resort town there. Wanna go sometime?"

"Sure."

Naomi moved closer, and Brad loosely draped an arm around her.

"Don't you find the forest a little creepy at night?" She said.

"Nah." Brad took a long, measured look into the dark. Naomi hadn't really ever noticed, but his eyes in this light strangely seemed more than a little reflective - like a cat, or other nocturnal animal's. "Not much out there to worry about. A lot worse in the city."

"There's people around, in the city."

"I know. That's the problem." Brad grinned, clearly only half-joking.

It was quiet for a little bit. Then Naomi chuckled.

"Leon made fun of you for running off like this."

Brad rolled his eyes a little, but his tone was affectionate. "Leon is a daddy's boy with separation anxiety. Can't expect he understands my need for alone time."

Naomi laughed, as this aligned with her experience. Leon had been a fantastic teammate, but he talked about his family a lot. Naomi had much less family to worry with, and couldn't relate. She glanced at Brad sidelong, suddenly aware that she knew nothing about his.

Brad was quietly watching the fire, and met her glance.

"In contrast: I require very little maintenance, as a teammate." He said, and smirked at his qualifier.

Naomi grinned. "But as a person, you're a goddamn handful?"

The man's eyes glinted with mischief. "Hey now. Your contract with me's only for a year. We can renegotiate then."

Another soft laugh. "You open to future changes in terms?"

"Absolutely."

It was later. The evening's lukewarm breeze had become the night's cold breath. The fire was reduced to soft embers, the surrounding dark made deep by isolation.

He couldn't sleep.

Brad quietly rolled away from Naomi and sat up, listening. Usually the nighttime chorus of solitude brought him calm. Tonight however, he felt a growing unease. He glanced at the woman beside him, trying to determine if her presence was simply throwing him off. After all, he wasn't used to company on these forays. And he'd already been troubled, so…

No, that wasn't it. He felt only calm watching her sleep. The man stood from the lean-to shelter and peered into the dark. To his left stood both he and Naomi's Zoids, idle. The Fox's eyeglass brightened, questioning, at the man's glance. Brad slipped his boots on and carefully walked towards the two Zoids. He placed a hand on a corner of the Fox's leg armor, staring out into the pitch-black forest.

Silence.

Actual silence. Sounds of the wilderness had faded, disturbed. Brad froze, breath catching in his throat. Something was out there.

His mind ticked through the possibilities, finding very few. Bandits were known to occasionally harass, mug, and even attack pilots camping for the night - but that was typically a threat along well-worn Zoid trails and the few actual paved roads between cities. These woods were secluded, this site invisible unless one knew where to look. Meaning: they'd likely been tracked.

"Naomi," he strained a whisper in her direction.

No response. She was too deeply asleep. Brad spared a glance her way before looking back to the surrounding woods, scouring them. Twigs cracking. Hushed movement; deliberate and slow. Sounded large. An animal? No; metallic. Heavy. Very heavy. A Zoid. Seemed to be coming from several directions though. What-

With no real warning the jaws of a Geno Saurer erupted from the dark. Fangs and foretalons sunk into the side of Naomi's Gun Sniper with a hideous scream of metal: the Zoid came online to shriek its surprise. The startled Fox reflexively whirled and cuffed at the Saurer, Brad ducking and bolting away from both with alarm.

"NAOMI!" He yelled.

Now she was awake, half-dressed and staggering into consciousness. Brad appeared in front of her and shoved them both back into the shelter, kneeling over her as she sorted herself.

Naomi hissed. "What the hell- "

"I don't know. Geno Saurer."

"Why?! What the fuck! My Zoid!"

The Gun Sniper ripped away from the Saurer and staggered to the side. It groaned as it hunkered and tried to hide, electricity arcing across gaping wounds in both armor and structure. The Geno Saurer didn't pursue it, attention swinging to the Fox. The canid Zoid postured aggressively, but stepped back.

"Get to your cockpit and get out of here," Brad muttered.

"Right, but don't you dare run towards that thi-"

He ran towards that thing.

Brad bolted for the Fox. He snapped a finger at the ground about halfway there, then whistled, crouched, and leapt. In what was obviously a practiced move, the Fox pivoted towards the man and dipped, catching him on the armor's facial flange. It was far from perfect but it worked, and the Fox opened its cockpit hatch just enough for Brad to roll in.

Naomi didn't wait for his move. As soon as he'd taken off she cursed and took off too, beelining for the Gun Sniper. A confusing precursor of broken foliage rained into her path, slowing her just enough to avoid the emergence and halting stomp of a second Geno Saurer. The woman snarled, horrified - these Zoids were clearly piloted, and these pilots clearly weren't terribly concerned with her or Brad's well-being.

The Shadow Fox covered the distance in a single twisting bound, landing in a protective sprawl overtop of Naomi. It flashed teeth at the second Saurer, reflecting its pilot's scowl. Brad slammed the controls for a comm channel, barely tempering the mix of rage and panic in his voice.

"What the fuck are you doing? There's pilots on the ground here!" He gave the other party a few seconds for a response, but didn't get one. "Come on! Stop! What do you want?"

Brad whipped the Fox's gatling level with the Saurer's cockpit. The Fox warily eyed the further Saurer while Brad watched the closer one shift and defensively hold a claw in the way.

"Calm down, cowboy." A male pilot.

"Like hell. Back off. Both of you!"

Both Saurers took neutral stances and leaned back. The gatling stayed trained on the closer Saurer's chest.

"First things first." Brad said. "Let her get in her Zoid."

No response, but no movement either. Naomi correctly seized the opportunity to close the remaining distance to her Sniper and clamber into the cockpit. She hurriedly strapped in, her chest heaving with adrenaline.

"Didn't notice you, sweetheart," Another unknown male pilot voice jeered, presumably the other Saurer's pilot. "Now-"

"Now, everyone leaves." Brad snapped.

"What gave you the idea you were in control here?" A third pilot's voice - female - and a third Geno Saurer emerged from the forest.

Or rather - its claws did, lashing forth on thick steel cables. Said claws sliced into the Fox, having the benefit of both stillness and surprise to aim with. The smaller Zoid shrieked and tried to buck away, but was unceremoniously pitched into the ground. Affording the Shadow Fox no time to recover, the Saurer delivered a nasty shock.

"Brad!" Naomi brought her Gun Sniper to bear, but the second Geno Saurer stepped in her way. She activated one booster to pivot sharply around the Saurer's front, shoving both foreclaw-lasers right beneath the larger Zoid's jawline and firing. "Fuck off!"

It did some damage, but not enough. The Geno Saurer grabbed the Gun Sniper's neck with a foreclaw and hefted the Zoid off the ground.

The Fox loudly endured several seconds of shocking before twisting to face the third Saurer - and in the same move its gatling swung to bear and lit up the front of the larger Zoid. The shock stopped, but the Saurer reeled in its claws, hauling the Shadow Fox in with them. The Zoid's stagger and sharp change of orientation threw off Brad's aim, and before he could recover he found himself staring down the long barrel of the Saurer's laser rifle.

Brad shut his eyes tightly, a wince.

Silence fell once more. Nothing happened.

After a moment, the female pilot spoke. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice."

Brad opened one eye. "Kind of need to know what 'this' is first. What do you want?"

"Your cooperation."

Brad took his hands off the controls, holding them up. Over their video commlink, Naomi saw this, hesitated, but did the same. Words weren't necessary for them to communicate the dire awareness of how disadvantaged they were.

"We don't have any money on us. Her Gun Sniper's stock and my Zoid doesn't play well with others. We don't have anything."

"Don't be so humble, Warrior. An elite pilot such as yourself, and the head of the Class A Fluegel Team?"

"So you know who we are." Naomi said, angrily. "If you're trying to prove something, this isn't exactly a fair fight."

"Never said it was." One of the male pilots again. "Not our thing."

Brad sighed through his teeth. "Backdraft?"

"Smart man."

"And here I was hoping the Commission had taken you guys apart."

"I'm sure you were."

The Geno Saurer holding Naomi's Sniper dropped it, pinning the smaller Zoid flat to the ground with a talon. "So? What's it gonna be?"

Brad splayed his empty hands at the blank videscreens for emphasis. "Stop. I'm cooperating."

"Good. Then get out of your Zoid."

If he'd had hackles, they would've raised. He looked at Naomi on-screen, blankly - to which she replied with a rapid shake of her head.

The female pilot: "Game or not, Hunter?"

Only other mercenaries- or ex-mercenaries -would really ever call him Hunter. He twitched a brow, quickly piecing things together. Likely Team Fuma. "Why do you want me out of my Zoid? I already said I'd cooperate."

Fuma laughed, dourly. "Because nobody really wants to deal with you in it. Out, or the Red Comet's going to have one hell of a bad day." Highlighting the threat, the relevant Geno Saurer's talons moved from the Gun Sniper's side to its head and neck, bearing down.

Naomi froze, watching her cockpit glass split once, twice, three times. She pressed back into her seat, trying to engage its shifting mechanism. The Zoid was too damaged, key components torn or too greatly compressed.

"Fine. Fine!" The Shadow Fox's hatch hissed open, and Brad stood from the seat, hands still Fox emitted disagreeable noises as the man jumped down to the ground, glaring up at the Geno Saurer.

The Saurer's laser rifles swung, locked onto the Fox, and fired at point-blank range. The smaller Zoid shrilled and staggered aside before collapsing, Brad clasping his ears against the unbuffered sounds. The Saurer's cockpit then opened, and Fuma stood from within, a hand on her hip. "See. Wasn't so hard."

Brad scowled at her. "Get him off of the Gun Sniper."

Fuma hopped down and approached, brandishing a simple set of energy-based restraints. With a single gesture she indicated that Brad turn around. He didn't comply.

"I'll do what you want, but get him off the Gun Sniper."

"If you think word didn't get around about your escapade in Mackaray, you'd be wrong. Turn around."

Brad grated a sigh, and shook his head. "No. First- "

Something struck him in the back of the head and he dropped, out cold.

Chapter Text

Brad awoke, nauseated, with a pounding headache and a desperate craving for a smoke.

As his eyes adjusted to dimly-lit surroundings, he recognized that he was in a small room, a cell of some kind. A bed jutting from a wall - what he was on - a toilet, a sink, empty space and nothing else. One wall simply seemed open to the adjacent corridor, but he was confident that it was an energy-field. A single, stinging touch verified it. It was also cold; his sleeveless top wasn't doing him any favors. He'd been stripped of his vest and belt. His pockets, usually stocked with his everyday carry, were empty.

He sat back down and stared hard at the floor, struggling to determine how he'd ended up somewhere like-

Oh. He remembered. The Geno Saurers. Backdraft.

Fuck.

He walked to the open wall and pounded a fist on the closest solid surface. Several times, hoping for someone's attention.

No response.

Now his head, stomach, and fist hurt.

There weren't any windows he could see. No idea the time of day, no idea where he was, and no idea how long he'd been out. Panic wouldn't do him any good, so he didn't indulge it - but he couldn't help but feel the deep, painful gnaw of powerlessness. It hadn't plagued him in a very long time.

He didn't like it.

"Hello?" He called out.

Nothing but the hum of the surrounding infrastructure.

Brad frowned, frustrated. Typical Zoid warriors had little patience for Backdraft, mercenaries even less so. Even when the price was right, it usually wasn't. The Backdraft Organization was well-known for using brute force in lieu of payment. Not because they couldn't pay, but because they didn't have to. Brad started filing away everything he could about his surroundings, hoping he could eventually give the Commission or ZBGF enough information to wipe the place off the planet.

Brad became so lost in these vacant thoughts that he failed to notice that Vega had appeared at some point. The child stood a small distance off, reclined on the wall, arms folded behind his head. The two made eye contact.

It'd been months since the Royal Cup. Vega had grown, just a little. He also looked considerably more rough than Brad remembered.

"Vega Obscura." Brad said.

"Hi."

"Hi. Quick question. What the fuck."

"Don't worry. Just need your help for a bit."

Brad stared, nonplussed. "I respond well to money and being asked. Preferably nicely. I do not respond well to being thrown in," He gestured around, "jail."

Vega shrugged. "Eh. Don't always get what you want."

The man took a sharp breath and didn't say what he was thinking, instead asking: "Where's Naomi?"

The reply was a genuinely blank look, and a bigger shrug. "Not here."

Brad wasn't sure if that was worrisome or not. His face went through several iterations of concern before settling on an angry stare. Brad was really starting to resent how casually Vega stood there, watching. The kid even started grinning.

"You think this is funny?" Brad said.

"I think you're gonna be able to help us."

"I'm not helping you with anything until someone tells me what the hell's going on."

That drew a laugh. An obnoxious, puerile laugh. Vega sneered and leaned close with a faux whisper. "I don't really think you have a choice."

He scurried off before the man said anything else.

Sun touched Naomi's face and she awoke, stiffly.

The familiarity of her Zoid's cockpit was soon stripped of comfort by its utter stillness.

She found herself suspended at an awkward angle by the seat's restraints, her limbs buzzing numbly as she moved them. Thick orange glass glittered in every angle of her vision; the glass around her had been shattered, and she felt the sticky, cold lines of dried blood on her face as she shifted. The frosty morning air made her aware of how deeply cold she was.

She struggled to regain her bearings. Hypothermia didn't help. She couldn't remember where she was or what had happened. Truth be told, at the moment she could barely remember her name. Naomi fumbled for the releases to her seat's buckles, but couldn't operate them with her trembling hands.

Her breaths plumed softly in the crisp air.

Her Zoid weakly acknowledged her, but she paid it little heed. Quite fortunately for her, the Zoid had had the presence of mind to initiate a distress beacon. And quite fortunately for both of them, said beacon had been noticed.

In every sense of the word, she'd been left for dead. Being tangled in her Zoid's cockpit and somewhat protected from the elements was probably all that'd saved her. A regular ZBC patrol found her, and brought her back to civilization.

It was several days before she regained her senses. And another day still before she began to remember what had happened.

From sleep, she shot up from the hospital bed, startling Leon and Jaime who were nearby, playing cards.

"Where's Brad?"

Brad enjoyed solitude and silence… not isolation and boredom. There were very distinct differences, and in this case most of them arose from the complete lack of autonomy available.

No one really came by. Vega had been the first, and only person he saw for quite a span. Said span couldn't be easily defined, since there were no clocks, windows, or anything to provide a sense of time. That and the harsh lights in the cell never went off - ever. Sleep was possible but difficult beneath the relentless glare.

There weren't cameras that he could see, though he knew that didn't mean much. He paced. He investigated how things were attached to the wall. He tested how attached things were to the wall. He tested the energy-field multiple times, until the ringing pain in his arm convinced him to stop. He kicked things, he yelled, and at length he was tired and sat down, silent once more.

Had it been one day? Two? More? He'd been drinking from the sink's stubby faucet for water, but no one had brought him any food. What exactly was the point of this? Why abduct someone, then essentially ignore them? Vega had mentioned something, but Brad was having a hard time remembering exactly what at this point. As a regular smoker, Brad found withdrawal compounding his growing ire - and his remaining patience frayed into nonexistence.

And yet still… nothing changed.

No one came. It stayed silent, monotonous.

Impatience and ire began to deform under pressure. They became anxiety. Anger. Subtle, at first. Then severe.

He was desperately hungry. Desperately angry. Simply desperate, seated with his arms folded tightly, his eyes squinted shut, his head down.

The sense of being watched. He glanced up. And it was Vega again - the child was carefully approaching, with the stilted demeanor of someone breaking a rule. At Brad's notice he stopped, grinned, and stood there. Brad stood abruptly.

"Vega! What's-"

The child was eating a protein bar, idly and intentionally. The man stared at it, his throat working reflexively.

"I'm... kid , what the fuck is going on? Why am I here?"

"Told you. We need your help."

"With what?! Then at least let me do something. Don't just- don't just leave me to rot!"

"You're not rotting." Vega said, bristling with the kind of exasperation only an entitled child can possess. He continued to eat. "Just be patient."

"I'M-" Brad trailed off sharply, forcing calm. "I'm really hungry. Can I at least get something to eat?"

Vega made sure to consume the rest of the bar before looking pointedly at Brad. "No. They don't want anyone eating beforehand." The minutiae of his movements seemed fashioned solely to get a rise out of the older man. "One guy puked. It was really gross."

Brad had no idea what Vega was talking about and finally just snapped at him. "Beforehand? Before what?"

"You'll see."

Chapter Text

Vega had yet again left, what'd seemed now to be several hours prior.

Brad had miserably sat back down, then lay back down, crossing his arms over his face in an attempt for some dark. He thought about what little had been said, trying to figure out what Backdraft could possibly need him for, especially given his short - but antagonistically distinct - history with the organization.

He thought about the Shadow Fox, assuming that Backdraft had taken possession of it again as well. But he hoped like hell it'd managed to somehow get away.

And Naomi. And her Gun Sniper. What could Backdraft possibly want he himself to do, that Naomi could not also do? Why wasn't she also here? She must have escaped, or simply never been captured. Right? Or was she simply somewhere else in this compound? Had she been hurt? Had she been killed? Would he ever be able to get out of this godawful hole and figure any of this out?

Hunger gnawed his insides, painful. He felt horrible, and exhaled through a growing seethe.

Brad knew that part of his hunger was for lack of nicotine. But as he irritably shifted his arms across his face - he started to realise he must've been in here for a while because he'd grown a fair amount of stubble. Between the lack of any kind of reflective surface, and vague dissociation from basic sensations out of boredom… he really hadn't taken notice until now.

The severe hunger then made sense at least.

Not like sense helped.

He sat up and went to the sink, bending for a drink. It was all he could do, teeth aching as he gulped the frigid water.

He startled at motion and sound behind him. Several Backdraft soldiers stood there, overly-armed. Brad raised his brows, eyes darting subtly as he assessed them and their weapons… before an obviously-senior officer moved through the group, brandishing restraints.

"Not today." The officer was a woman wearing a dark visor and whose taupe uniform bore the Backdraft insignia. She wasn't gentle in the slightest, crossing Brad's arms tightly and clamping his wrists into energy-restraints. Another soldier assisted; within moments ankle restraints matched the ones on Brad's wrists, and a waist chain had been lashed around his midsection. The whole lot was tethered together with just enough give to allow walking.

Brad stared at this with some incredulity. "Afraid I'm goin' somewhere?"

However, only a few minutes later, the reason for their caution became apparent. As the group rounded a corner, Brad blinked - and recognized the place. His mind ticked through a few markers, and found them all. They were in the Mackaray mountains. This was the base he'd stolen the Fox from.

He sourly chuckled to himself. No wonder they weren't taking any chances. Brad looked around at what Zoids he could see in the hangar, hoping. But no Shadow Fox.

The base was much larger than what little he'd wormed through many months ago. The group traveled what Brad guesstimated was five or six times the width of the Blitz Team's hangar, ducking through several corridors on the way. The layout was confusing - and he was having a hard time focusing at all, nevermind taking detailed mental notes.

Brad realized with some concern that they weren't really making any effort to prevent him from getting a look at things. That concern deepened as they stopped in front of a highly-secured hangar door. He glanced at the handful of soldiers in the group, but not only did they pointedly avoid eye-contact, their faces didn't tell him anything.

As they were busy dealing with the door, Brad froze in place.

A deep, primal feeling rattled through the man, like powerful bass with no actual sound. Almost painful with its intensity, it quickly became sharp, like a vice tightened on his bones. He had no idea what this feeling was, but he'd felt it before.

Brad and Leon stood together, assessing the Liger Zero. Some shifty con-man had unloaded the damn thing on Leon's father, and now the team was saddled with this bizarre, testy Zoid that'd be impossible to find spare parts for.

"Well, maybe we can get some use out of it." Leon, bright side.

"Nobody sells a good Zoid for that cheap. Something's wrong with it." Brad, less so.

"Not according to the mechanic. Or Jaime."

Brad had opinions on mechanics. And: "No offense to Hemeros' kid but…" He trailed off.

Leon sighed. "We should at least see how well it handles. Wanna go first?"

A shrug. Indifference. When Leon didn't move for a few seconds, Brad took the initiative and idly clambered up to the cockpit's side. "If I like it, I get to use it. For free."

Leon chuckled. "Sure."

Brad tapped the flange armor with a boot. Most Zoids took this subtle signal as a request for the cockpit hatch to open, if they hadn't opened it in anticipation already. The Liger didn't move.

"Great start." Brad muttered. "Come on. Open up."

After a moment, the cockpit opened. A little. Just enough to get in. Brad slipped into the seat, eyes combing the controls and accessories. He placed his hands on the main throttles, and-

That feeling. A bone-crushing pressure without pain. It took his breath away, made him lightheaded. Felt both excruciating and strangely orgasmic. After several seconds, sense came back in a rush. No pain, but there was the strange, extended anticipation of it - like a careless freedive from a icy waterfall, you knew you would eventually-

Brad let go of the controls and bunched his fists in alarm.

After several more seconds, he realized he'd been holding his breath, and resumed normal breathing after a few awkward gasps for air. It'd been over a minute.

From below: "Hey, Brad? You OK?"

That same feeling.

The door opened. A smaller hangar, a deeply slanted roof. A few smaller units were present, but the armorless Berserk Fury was clearly the dominant Zoid in view. Vega was sitting on a crate by the door. He hopped off as Brad and the soldiers entered, trailing the group.

Brad wasn't touching any Zoid, but could somehow tell that the feeling simply emanated - beckoned - from the Berserk Fury. The man glanced at Vega, caught his eye, and gave him a stare of profound confusion.

Vega simply nodded and grinned, ever-so-slightly.

The kid felt it too?

Brad twinged, struck by a surge of irrational, possessive envy.

It was his to experience, and his alone.

Confused, he blinked away the thought.

The group marched up stairs to an elevated walkway and platform. Sara stood near the Fury, watching the group approach. She looked impatient, hawkish, and she motioned sharply. The soldiers escorting Brad undid the restraints on his wrists and arms, but left everything else attached. Sara then looked squarely at Brad.

"Get in."

Brad squinted at her, and side-eyed the Zoid. "You... want me to pilot? This thing?"

A more discerning look told him that the Fury was tethered, bound in place by a moderately-sized framework. Judging by the marring on both the framework and the Fury's edges, this had been a repeat arrangement… and one that it wasn't terribly fond of. Just viewing the Berserk Fury from this distance pierced the mind with a distinct feeling - that of exposed prey. A strange sensation in contrast with its magnetism. Was he supposed to hide from it, or run to it?

When Sara said nothing, just pointed again, Brad cut his eyes back at Vega. "This is your Zoid."

"Yeah."

"If I get in that thing, I'm out of here."

Vega seemed equal parts tired and amused. "Sure."

Brad leaned down to his height for more-direct eye contact. "Kid. I will steal. Your. Zoid. And leave."

He met the older man's gaze directly. "You're welcome to try."

Something was off. Brad wanted to be suspicious, wanted to be irritated, but only found himself lured by that sickly sweet beckon in his periphery. He'd only really viewed the Berserk Fury from afar before, as a daunting - and dangerous - opponent. Here, with the opportunity to seize control-

He caught himself. Closed his eyes, tried to concentrate.

The deep craving intensified.

"He likes you." Vega said. "I really do think you can help us out. He wants to defeat the Liger Zero."

Much louder than intended, Brad said: "Fantastic. What's this got to do with me? Zip. Nada. Nothing's stopping you. You're a registered pilot. Go challenge Bit. It's a free planet."

Vega stared for a few seconds too long. He was clearly hesitant to respond.

"...I'm not strong enough."

"To do what?"

"Defeat them."

"Oh, okay. And you somehow think I am?"

"Hopefully."

"You're Vega Obscura, the fucking King. Appreciate the vote of confidence, but I'm just-"

Brad was trying to walk away, back the way he'd been led across the platform, but was stopped by the armed soldiers. They pushed him back. Vega waved a dismissive hand - at the guards, at Brad, at everything.

"Come on. Just get in. It's okay."

A brief, fake smile struggled to his young face but died on lips. It was not okay.

Brad scowled and looked over his shoulder at the Berserk Fury.

He wasn't particularly conscious of going from point A to B. He vaguely remembered the soldiers flanking him as he approached the open cockpit, but that was about it. Now in the seat, he assessed the controls. But couldn't keep track of what it was he looked at. It didn't matter. Everything felt so good it hurt. Rational thought briefly noted how bizarre and truly undesirable the situation actually was, but it was quickly quashed by monstrous delight.

A voice, deep and empty, whispered into the back of his mind.

~Do you want power?~

He did.

~Do you want control?~

More than anything, at the moment.

~I want out of here also.~

It was understood. They both wanted control of the situation, and that required a mutual surrender. The issue: in no way were they equals. But there wasn't really time to contemplate. The agreement took hold and Brad seized in the cockpit, stiffening awkwardly in the seat.

Vega watched, his expression sliding towards disappointment-

-for only a split second, before Brad sat back up, grabbed the controls, and the cockpit snapped shut. Vega blinked, while Sara and the soldiers startled. The woman shot a look at Vega, who just shrugged.

"I told you. He likes him."

"Fine. Then tell the Fury-"

A creak then long groan of metal. The Berserk Fury tore out of the scaffolding and with seeming ease ripped free of wire and restraint. It surged forward a few steps into the mostly-empty bay, shaking off bits of debris.

The massive Zoid then turned and looked back at the platform. And shrieked. Defiant.

"Vega- " And Sara recognized the glazed, inhuman look in the child's eyes. Rapt, Vega completely ignored Sara and grabbed the rails, hefting himself for a better view.

Every motion was perfect, smooth. The controls reminded Brad of the Fox's smooth perfection but sharper; more distinct. Some part of him knew he wasn't used to the height or balance of a saurian Zoid, but it mattered a lot less than he thought it would.

Now to leave. Which way.

~I do not know. This is not my hangar.~

Doors, windows? The Zoid's head swept with observation, before pilot and Zoid made a spontaneous decision for the nearby corridor - the direction from which Brad had been led. There was some yelling, scrambling, and the distinct awareness that the crowd present was trying to close and fortify the hangar door.

No, not happening. The Berserk Fury skirted through the opening with grace, bolting through the corridor and into an adjacent bay. There may have been a klaxon, there may have been people scrambling around. There may have even been other Zoids, but they were boring and irrelevant, asleep and not worth anyone's time.

Another door; that looked more familiar to the Fury and Brad alike. But it was closed. The armorless Zoid stalked closer and lashed the door with its tail, testing. Not blastproof; just for climate control. The Berserk Fury bunched a haunch and smashed in the door with its talons, stalking through the revealed short corridor into yet another, more populous hangar.

Now there were people, rushing, getting into Zoids. Zoids in the way.

Annoying. Irrelevant. Rev Raptors? Kicked aside like refuse. A Guysack? Jaws seized the spindly tail and pitched the entire Zoid across the the indoor space. Several approaching Helcats thought better of coming any closer, scrambling to a halt and instead firing lasers from where they stood.

All indoors; all too close. The Berserk Fury charged forward and sank its teeth into a Helcat, Brad surprised at the sheer, buttery ease of it. The Zoid shook the hapless Helcat violently before tossing it at the others. They all buckled, either struck directly, or from fright.

Laughable. The Fury threw its head back and shrieked a roar, intimidating any other Zoids that'd yet to creep in close. Nothing else really dared approach, much to the dismay of numerous pilots.

Good. The Fury rumbled, pivoted, and nudged at yet another closed door, preparing to tear it open as well.

A twinge. The raging Zoid paused.

In the tense, settling silence there came the tapping of footsteps, then the rhythmic clanks of someone descending a ladder. Vega strolled out onto the bay floor, hands folded casually behind his head as was his manner. The Berserk Fury swung to face the child.

Brad thrust the controls forward, face devoid of expression until resistance was met. Then his pupils pinpointed, and he scowled, stymied.

The Fury growled softly at Vega.

~I tire of patience. Let us destroy.~

"Sara wants t-"

~I tire of Sara.~

Vega glanced up and sidelong at Sara as she arrived on the elevated walkway. Like any child, he too tired of his mother. But he wasn't terribly inclined to turn on her, and brushed aside the casual murder trying to leach into his mind. He changed the subject.

"Guess you two get along?"

Brad wracked the unresponsive controls, trembling angrily. What'd been perfect synchrony became man vs. wall. "Come on. Move!"

~Yes.~

Vega gestured vaguely and the Fury's cockpit opened, revealing an enraged Brad. The rile drained from the man's face, replaced by dull confusion.

"He's still my Zoid." Vega said, levelly. "He listens to me."

"Well. I don't."

"But you'll listen to him. So."

Brad ripped off the seat restraints and stood in the cockpit, pointing. "I don't take orders from anyone, kid. You or a Zoid."

Vega glanced down, picked up a random piece of shrapnel from the chaos, and smoothly tossed it to Brad. In an equally-fluid motion Brad caught it, though a split-second later seemed disgusted about it.

The child smiled but his eyes did not. "You'll do what the Fury asks."

"Fuck you." Brad went to throw the piece right back at Vega, but couldn't. His arm and hand went taut, shaking, gloves digging into the splinter's sharp edges.

"Do what he asks," Vega snarled, muscles in his neck cording. He took on Brad's pose, but moved his own arm so his hand hovered below his chin.

Brad sucked in air as his grip on the shard tightened to the point of splitting his glove, then the skin of his palm. He stifled a grunt of dismay, arm shivering several seconds more before he lost control and mirrored Vega's pose. Unlike Vega, he had something very sharp in his hand, and its edge both glanced his throat and nicked his chin. Nothing serious, but he didn't like how distinct the warm rivulets of blood felt.

Vega chuckled. Obnoxiously. None of this seemed to register to him as much more than entertainment.

The Fury found the man's powerless, trembling rage delightful, and basked in it for several seconds before allowing both humans to drop their arms.

Brad immediately threw down the shard and put pressure on his bleeding hand, eyes closing against the pain. When he opened them again, something had changed. Desperation and panic had clearly taken over, but his voice was thick with rage.

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Are you? Are you really?"

Brad started to leap out of the cockpit, but the combination of the surrounding Backdraft soldiers cocking weapons and the Fury ever-so-slightly tilting its head back - knocking Brad backwards - stopped him soundly. He didn't respond or really even move afterwards, staring at nothing with an intense frustration.

"Didn't think so," Vega sneered, walking away.

Chapter Text

Layon was grumpily machining a small metal part when the Geno Saurers in the adjacent hangar started to fuss.

Most people viewed the rare beasts as imposing machines - which they were - but if you hung around hangars a lot, you'd notice they acted less like stately, centuries-old Zoids and more like large, gossip-prone hens. At least that was the case when it came to the sole company of one-another. The species divide between the three and every other Zoid seemed particularly steep, as they became stoic and contemptuous in the company of 'lessers.'

Layon didn't blame them. As some of the oldest Zoids in the hangar, they certainly seemed more astute than many of the mass-produced modern Zoids. Layon wished he could see the facilities in which Zoids used to be built.

The man lifted his safety glasses and glanced around as the Saurers' hissing intensified. They seemed excited. Or upset. Or both.

A second later, he knew why: the distinct shriek of the Berserk Fury echoed throughout the base. The Berserk Fury was supposedly an evolved Geno Saurer. So of course they'd be interested.

Layon put his glasses back down and started to work again. He finished the part, hummed to himself, brought it over to a scanner.

There was a lot of noise elsewhere in the base. Of the variety that didn't seem good for the various walls and doors.

Layon again paused, making sure the sounds weren't coming too close. They weren't.

The ruckus periodically caused by the Fury had simply become a ghoulish mainstay of the base. Almost everyone knew what was going on… they just preferred to ignore it, largely for fear of being conscripted into piloting the damn thing themselves. Hope remained that it would eventually removed from the place, just as abruptly and unexpectedly as it'd shown up.

After a few moments, Layon pulled the piece out of the scanning unit and walked over to the Shadow Fox.

The dark Zoid was quietly, loosely crouched, face pointing at the wall. It had lift chains under one haunch, and another set of chains from the ceiling suspended its flexible mount so as to reveal the many components beneath. This was clearly not restraint - this was repair.

The Fox was warily side-eyeing the direction of the Geno Saurers.

Layon carefully removed a component with a wrench and replaced it with the new one, leaning into bodily into a compartment for better reach. The Shadow Fox softly chirped and chuffed, barely perceptible were it not for the man's intimate proximity.

"Oh, hush. They're not gonna hurt you."

Louder chuff.

"There. This should be more durable. That other one fatigued real fast. Cheap Helcat part." Layon backed out and looked up at the Fox's underbelly thoughtfully. He tapped it with the wrench. "You've actually been causing a lot of weird wear with that damn gait of yours. Maybe..." Layon meandered back to the tool bench, thoughtful.

The Shadow Fox watched him silently. It visibly flinched at the sound of the Berserk Fury's renewed shrieking.

"Party out there," Layon mumbled, vaguely aware of but none-too-interested in what was going on.

It was a nice, coincidental bonus that Backdraft had happened to go after the very particular asshole who'd stolen his Fox. Because yes, Layon did want it back, but had given up any consideration of such that involved going up against the Blitz Team.

Now, though…

The Fox cocked its head and belted its full-on digital howl. It was ear-splittingly loud in the tiny space.

"Stoppp. You don't get to join in. You wouldn't want to anyways."

The Fox shifted uncomfortably but returned to its loose crouch. It softly keened instead.

"Don't worry. You'll be good as new in no time. Even better!" He tapped the wrench on the table, and rolled out several messy bits of paper. "So. I've been thinking…"

Brad didn't want to get out of the Fury: they pulled him out.

They slammed him down. He tried to fight, it was no use. Too weak, too hungry, too many people, too much force. To make matters worse, after being removed from the Zoid he felt pained, strangely spaced-out and tired. Like he'd left something behind and desperately needed to return for it.

He was on his back, on a gurney, his wrists and ankles bound with foam-lined restraints while forms and figures wearing surgical masks moved about him. Details were lost: people were mere shadows against bright lights from the ceiling. Someone took blood, yet another set up an IV line. Not one of them would look him in the eyes.

He incorrectly assumed that they'd at least let him rest.

Even a few seconds of sleep would've been a delight, but anytime Brad felt his eyelids droop they'd go out of their way to inject something that made sleep impossible. Adrenaline? Certainly felt like it. His heart raced with pointless panic.

He squinted his eyes shut, trying to block out the light. The longing for sleep intensified. It just wasn't available.

He realized with some consternation that the overwhelming need for sleep didn't feel much different than the now-constant pull towards the Fury itself. Tantalizing, irresistible, necessary. He could actually now faintly detect what he recognized as the Fury's touch in his mind. Cold, curious. Not unlike how he perceived the Fox - just far sharper, and with much more depth.

For lack of any other ally in this excruciating situation, he reached out to it.

I'm so tired.

What he'd felt was only a sliver of its attention. When more of its awareness shifted toward him, he found himself drowning in the beast's unending mire. That was fine.

~It is better this way. There will be rest when we are done.~

It sounded perfectly reasonable, but wasn't… similar to him having a casual mental conversation with a Zoid, distant or not.

But that water had gone under and far past the bridge at this point.

When are we done?

~When we destroy the Liger Zero and its pilot.~

Blue eyes opened slightly.

What?

~We cannot rest until they are no more.~

That seemed… outlandish. And unfortunate. And a lot of other descriptors Brad was too tired to articulate.

How 'bout... we just go wreck the Liger and call it good.

~No.~ Was the monosyllabic response.

Brad had lines, and drew them.

I'm not killing anyone.

The Zoid quirked a mental brow at him, pushing the memory of Brad shouting at Vega not long prior.

~You will. Not Vega, of course. But you will. It is the way of things.~

The statement was so plain, and so final, it held no room for argument. Brad's defiance flared, but was crushed by the Fury's indifference. There simply was no fighting its presence: a dark, cold, perpetual torrent across every thought he tried to have.

He felt the Fury be distracted for a few moments. Listening, it seemed, to something Brad couldn't hear. Then:

~They want us to practice. Because we cannot fail.~

Was that a statement of confidence or concern?

Brad honestly had little idea how much time did or didn't pass. He almost fell asleep, perhaps dozed… but that came to an end as someone jabbed something into his arm again. Awake! Painfully awake!

Once fully cognizant he found himself in the Fury's cockpit once more, being side-eyed by it from every mental angle.

He shivered - with cold, with adrenaline, with nervousness - as he blearily surveyed their surroundings. A small indoor arena. Clearly underground, as the height and breadth wasn't vast like a skydome's. No opponent yet. Just silence, the soft rumble of the Fury, and rhythmic, wavering whirr of servos in the Zoid's massive tail.

The man started to drift off again. He hated that this thing could be so comfortable.

He was snapped to attention by the Fury as a silver Command Wolf staggered into view. The smaller Zoid had been forced into the arena through a door that'd closed behind it. It was very obviously not interested in being there.

~We are to destroy them.~ The Fury stated, idly. ~There is doubt you will comply.~

Brad's throat worked uneasily as he watched the other Zoid. It was clear that the Wolf had a pilot.

"Who's the pilot?"

~It does not matter.~

The Fury surged forward. Brad's hesitation lessened as he went with it, his exhaustion wiped away and replaced with intense elation. Little shreds of intact thought were quite horrified by this, but he couldn't help it. He wanted- he needed to be this unstoppable force, not a defeated, exhausted heap.

Teeth, jaws, haunches - one quick motion. The Fury seized the middle of the Command Wolf while crushing its hindquarters downwards with its rear talons. Like a ravenous animal ripping into prey, the Berserk Fury shook its head and absolutely shredded the middle of the smaller Zoid. Harsher snaps and pops - armor and structure - gave way to the smoother grating of more delicate internal components. The slaughter culminated in the relative butter that was Zoid's middle drive components and Core. Everything was simply torn apart.

Within a minute the Wolf was unquestionably dead, and the Fury shook its carcass until the cockpit glass opened and the terrified pilot burst from within, trying to flee the unfair disaster.

The pilot wore a ZBGF uniform. In conjunction with the silver Wolf, it was easy to guess: some low-ranking patrol who'd run afoul of Backdraft in the forest. Wrong place, wrong time.

The Berserk Fury's dark snout traced the pilot's progress coldly, its intentions clear.

It was unfathomably barbaric to send a Zoid after anyone on the ground. It was one of the most taboo things on the planet, one of very few things subject to capital punishment on Zi, and a straight-up war crime, in the past.

~Let us kill him.~

"Uh- no. You're insane."

~We must.~

Painful to resist. That velvet depth and darkness just wanted to envelop every last sensation, the mental purr giving him both a gentle request and an unquestionable command. It was like fighting gravity - he eventually, simply wore out and had to give in.

Brad didn't remember the motion, just the result. He actually couldn't see it from the cockpit, and was distantly glad for that. But the Berserk Fury savored the crunch of sinew and bone and made sure Brad did as well.

Silence hung for a few seconds. Brad reeled with shock - disgusted, elated, panicked.

Only a few moments later, another small Zoid was thrust into view.

The same hesitation. The same terror.

The same fate.

It'd been a few hours.

A number of Zoids, a number of pilots. Thoroughly disposable units and individuals.

This was a test. One that only one other potential Fury pilot who'd survived to this point had gone through - and miserably failed. But not Brad. He'd 'succeeded.' If this could be considered success.

The man simply sat in the cockpit, stare distant and empty, shoulders and chest heaving with the passing exertion. The arena floor gleamed in places with both silver Zoid fluids and relatively small amounts of human blood. A ghastly but mesmerizing mix. Yet another Zoid clattered onto the arena floor, larger than most of the others. It rumbled and trilled, clearly acting under duress.

The Shadow Fox. It lifted its snout sharply, focused on the Berserk Fury's face, and tilted its head.

It knew. It tossed back its head with a howl.

The sound brought fleeting focus to Brad's eyes, and he blinked.

"...Fox? Fuck!"

He ripped his hands from the controls and tried to unbuckle his harness. "I'm not- I'm not -"

~We will destroy this Zoid as any other.~

"No."

Brad's disconnect and distraction irritated the Fury.

The Fox wasn't piloted. It'd been tossed in as an afterthought, mainly because Alteil was tired of having Layon try to convince him of the thing's merits. He'd heard that Layon was in possession of it once more, and not only that - wanted to 'improve' the damn thing. The Shadow Fox had plenty of time to prove itself in the Backdraft, and never really had. Alteil wasn't going to listen to that nonsense again.

Now the Zoid could at least be a little useful. As personal entertainment.

Alteil sat in a low armchair, sipping a scotch while dispassionately regarding the events below.

Above and to the rear of the indoor arena, shielded with thick glass, was what could only be described as a lounge - a viewing suite of sorts. It featured finely upholstered seating, pristine glass tables, and at the back were wall-length, plush sofas and a full bar. The lighting was low and soft, mainly provided by the softly shielded glow of LED bars. A bizarre nest of luxury, juxtaposed against the violence below.

Layon was present, but certainly hadn't been made aware of the Fox-related turn of events. When he heard it, he bolted to the window and gawked.

"What?! No! I just- it's not- it's worth more than this!"

Alteil didn't even spare Layon a glance. "Shut up."

"I put that thing together myself! You can't just- you can't just throw it into a goddamn meat grinder!"

"Or, you know. I can." Alteil motioned with his glass, and mildly shrugged.

Sara and Polta sat across the way on the wall-sofa, looking grim. Vega lay uneasily asleep beside Sara, his head on her lap.

The woman raised a critical brow at Layon. "You're more upset about a Zoid than you are people."

"It's my Zoid," Layon snapped, as if that was sufficient explanation.

The armorless Fury and the Shadow Fox studied each other for a long, tense moment. The Berserk Fury found deep gratification in watching Zoids shrink away in terror, which they typically did upon understanding what they faced. But the Fox just stared, gold eyeglass ablaze.

In that same moment, they mutually understood that they were not facing off against the usual. The Fury perceived the bizarre mental coil of the Fox's young AI, which effectively superseded the personality of the Zoid's natural Core. And the Fox perceived the dark Organoid rooted within the Berserk Fury itself.

The Berserk Fury craned its neck slightly. ~You are… unnatural. A freak.~

[Berserk Fury: Incomplete_ ] it replied.

~Not anymore.~

[Not. Yours._ ]

~You think you are an Evechild, freak?~

[Not. Understand._ ]

~Of course you don't.~

Brad made the effort to resist the Berserk Fury, but simply couldn't break away. The Fury charged forward and slammed into the Fox, the smaller Zoid managing to roll with the blow and bounce a few paces away. It shrilled angrily and flared its claws in threat, though it crouched - no, hunkered. A submissive action.

The Fox chuffed and chopped air with its teeth. [Not. Fight. No. Purpose. Give: Pilot._ ]

~There is always a purpose to fighting. That purpose is survival.~

The Fury charged again and snapped at one of the Fox's forelegs, but the Fox avoided the bite, bunched its body, and went bounding.

[Shadow Fox: does not: threaten Berserk Fury: survival!_ ]

~Of course not, freak. It is I that will end yours.~

The Fury spun and plowed into the Fox's path; the smaller Zoid tried to zig-zag around, but the Fury caught its underside with a lash of its tail. Struck armor splintered, but components weren't hit - the Shadow Fox squealed and rolled to a halt across the floor.

Layon had been watching, but he pointedly looked away. He was relatively fine with someone stealing his Zoid and actually using it. He was much less fine with countless hours of work being shredded for no goddamn reason.

But the scrappy Zoid didn't simply give up. It and the Fury's struggles were those of actual combat, not the one-sided symphonies of destruction that'd been going on before. It wasn't over in seconds; it wasn't over in minutes. Additional personnel of sufficient rank had gathered to watch also, curious.

They started making bets on how long it would take, as folks higher up in Backdraft were wont to do.

The Fox's weapon systems were disabled - as had unfairly been every other Zoid's previously in this situation. Likewise, the naked Fury had no functioning ranged weapons. This was pure, raw-metal melee combat - claws, teeth, and agility.

Vega became restless and awoke, looking pissed. He shot up from Sara's lap and stormed across the room, shoving past several people to stare down into the arena. "What's wrong with that Zoid?" He yelled, at no-one in particular. His face became grotesque, much less childlike and far more monstrous. "DIE ALREADY!"

Alteil eyed the child and downed the rest of his scotch.

Layon had resigned himself to a seat at the bar and was already a few drinks in. He glanced dully at Vega, then looked at Sara.

"What poor bastard's piloting the Shadow Fox?"

Sara was staring at Vega and only shook her head slightly.

"Nobody," Alteil grunted, sounding inconvenienced. "I have no ide-"

"What?!" Layon shot up and back to the window, suddenly frantic. " You've got to be- " He'd worked for ages trying to get a fully autonomous drive system set up on a Zoid, nevermind one that had the intelligence to fight, nevermind one that could fight well. He clutched his head and wailed.

His stupid magnum opus was in a Zoid that was currently about to be slaughtered by the resident murder machine.

"Vega, call it off!" He howled.

The child's bony fingers were taloned against the glass, his face trembling between discomfort and elation. He glanced at Layon with animal eyes, but they became slightly more human when his name was spoken. "Why?"

"Layon," Alteil warned.

Layon didn't possess the presence of mind to package an explanation, so he just blurted "PLEASE!"

Everyone in the room seemed equal parts baffled and uncomfortable. Which said something odd about them: a number of them had just watched several people die brutal deaths without qualm, but Layon's outburst over a doomed Zoid was somehow more disturbing. Possibly because he was so large, loud, and in the actual room.

Vega seemed to consider the request, but after a moment shook his head. He turned back to the arena, when the whole suite suddenly, briefly flickered with red.

It took several seconds for everyone to register: what appeared to be an Organoid stood there. It was also by the windows, a few yards from Vega, hunched and looking around with bright green optics.

Its body was a dingy crimson, webbed with cracks and damage. Its draconic, crested head sported similar damage - so severe, that what could've once been a noble visage lacked symmetry. The creature's head tilted back and forth as it took in the room.

No one did anything for several seconds more, shocked silent.

Everyone had only begun to register their alarm when they realized the Fury had stopped too: it was looking up at the suite, unable to see in from below but obviously sensing the commotion.

At the sudden sight of the Organoid, Vega's vicious demeanor was quickly replaced by that of a frightened child. The Fury's touch drained straight out of him, as did all color from his face. He staggered to retreat, but tripped backwards over his own gangly legs and plunked against the thick window.

The Berserk Fury shrieked up at the glass, rattling everything in the room.

People started to run. And scream.

The Organoid's head listed towards the Fury below. It stared at the angry Zoid, letting its spiked tail tap-and-scrape thoughtfully along the carpet. Vega distinctly heard the thing mutter to itself, though its words were in a thick, indecipherable language. The derogatory tone was universal, however.

It noticed Vega's notice and snapped green optics back to him.

Their gazes locked. Time stopped.

Something was profoundly wrong.

Vega couldn't place it, but this thing-

"An- an Organoid!" Layon stammered out, the first to find his voice. He glanced around, briefly convinced he'd gone insane. But the stunned stares of the remaining people in the room assuaged his fears. Well, that one anyways. "What- what happened to it?!"

A single gunshot rang out, deafeningly loud in the room's confines. Alteil had pulled a sleek, long-barreled revolver from his coat, and fired a clean shot at the unsuspecting creature. He was an alarmingly good shot, and the bullet went straight into the Organoid's thick upper torso.

It would've easily felled any human or animal. Even a very small Zoid might have faltered in the face of such a caliber and precision. But the Organoid just glanced at the bullethole and then Alteil, unfazed.

Alteil recoiled with dismay at the complete lack of effect, lifting the gun to fire again-

He didn't get the chance. The Organoid was across the room in an instant, slamming Alteil aside with a powerful, twisting sweep of its tail. The man didn't have time to register that this had completely broken his arm, before the Organoid slammed its full weight into him, shoving both into the glass-

-which fractured at length, the involved pane exploding outward with a horrifying screech and another bright flicker of red.

Alteil was probably dead on the first impact, but he was certainly dead after striking the ground below.

The Organoid had vanished.

Vega peered through the shattered glass, and Sara ran to his side, looking down.

She scowled at Alteil's body, ears ringing from his idiotic gunshot, mind refusing to process what she'd just seen, what'd just happened.

The Berserk Fury's blocky snout appeared and loomed below, taking up the two's entire field of view. Its massive fangs gleamed in a displaced, hanging beam of the arena's bright lighting - the Zoid strained to stretch its neck up towards the child, its head tilting.

"I'm fine," Vega said quietly. "I'm fine…"

The Fury had a strangely-concerned hiss emanating from it, and the sound disturbed Sara very much. Despite herself, she stepped back from the window and out of view. At least that was one problem taken care of. Potentially two.

Chapter Text

It took only a few days for Naomi's cuts and bruises to heal, and the repairs to her Zoid were simple enough. No lasting physical damage had been done to either of them.

Unfortunately, physical damages were not the problem. The sudden and violent excision of Brad from her daily routines was jarring. The two hadn't been together that long - she'd had Leon on Team Fluegel for much longer. But she viewed Brad as much more than a teammate, and he'd made it clear that the feeling was mutual.

But now not only was he gone, he was missing. The ZBC and ZBGF alike could find no sign of Brad or the Shadow Fox. Naomi couldn't help but think about the disappearances Brad had only just begun to express his concerns with - the very thing they'd gone off to escape the reality of.

All she could tell those in authority was that they'd been attacked by the Backdraft. That information seemed unwelcome, and was taken with apparent skepticism. Backdraft's known activity had ceased after their expansive HQ had been raided and their satellites destroyed: apparently both the ZBC and ZBGF wanted to savor the thought that they'd quashed the menace.

Naomi was seated quietly on her sofa when a knock came. It was Leon: she knew it was Leon; Leon had keys, Leon opened the door, and Leon brought in takeout and sat down next to her. She just watched him.

"Hey. I brought dinner."

She opened a bag of food half-heartedly. "Thanks."

Leon observed her carefully, and they ate for a few minutes in relative silence.

They'd never been in a romantic relationship, but living together as teammates had provided a comfortable - and some might say, intimate - familiarity. Leon didn't seem sure what degree of it was appropriate anymore, so settled on softly patting her leg.

"Naomi."

She fixed her gaze on the food, and wouldn't look at him. But he didn't go on, until she acknowledged him with her eyes.

"You sure you're doing okay?" Leon said.

No. She wasn't.

She never lost her composure, but launched into a panicked retelling of what'd gone on. What'd led up to it. How she felt, and what she was deeply fearful of: that Brad wasn't coming back, that he'd show up dead just like Jack had.

Lacking Brad's first-hand knowledge that'd led the hapless mercenary to his unsettled state to begin with, Leon could neither join Naomi in her fears nor assure her they were unfounded. All he could offer was that she come stay with the Blitz Team for a while, for company, and to avoid being alone with her thoughts in an empty apartment.

With an outward reluctance, she accepted. Inside, she - as she invariably always had been - was grateful to Leon.

Backdraft possessed no shortage of internal surveillance equipment, most of it pointing at entry points, exit bays, various high-value assets and the like. The more money involved, the more likely cameras were: this meant that the underground arena suite had decent coverage, though very little near the windows.

Layon stared intently at the console's screens.

Only a few seconds of clear footage, but there was no doubt: an Organoid had shown up, looked around, been shot at by Alteil, responded with lethal force - and vanished. How did it get in? Where did it go? How did it move around so quickly? Could these things teleport?

Layon again watched Vega startle and stagger back. The creature absolutely towered over the child - easily, over 7 feet tall. Layon had thought Organoids would be smaller. The tiny handful of old books that discussed the beasts with any seriousness described meek, cautious creatures... not vicious dragons. It also described Organoids as grey. This one had a distinct color - looked to be pigment, not paint - damaged though it was.

What had happened to it? Poor thing looked like it'd gone through a garbage disposal. The various exposed structural layers at least told Layon a little about its composition. But he desperately wanted to know more.

Layon replayed the clip yet again.

He winced as the creature slammed into Alteil. The way the man fell back so easily... how much did these things weigh? It was both a surprise and a shame that Alteil's completely on-target shot had done nothing. It would've been invaluable to capture, incapacitate, or yes - even kill the Organoid, because there was so much that nobody knew and Layon wanted to study, to know.

And to be the first and best at it.

He wondered what the Committee would think. And do. Maybe help him find the thing?

Green eyes flicked again over the replay of terror memorialized permanently on Alteil's face.

...did he want to find this thing?

Layon got up from the console, turned off the monitors and started to walk away. But he paused and glanced back.

Why had it even shown up?

When he'd regained his senses again and found himself back in the tiny cell, Brad just lay there. As he was, as he'd awoken, on his back on the bed. Staring at the ceiling. Eyes vaguely flicking in thought. Blinking occasionally.

Thoughts of the arena seemed distant, unreal. Brutality, slaughter - felt fake. He wanted to relegate everything he found himself thinking about firmly to the territory of bad dream. Nightmare, something that hadn't really happened.

Of course. He'd just been fretfully sleeping beneath this endless glare and it-

No, he was covered in dried sweat and his hair was a matted mess and he felt tired and in desperate need of a shower like after any given drawn-out Zoid battle and-

No! A nightmare. He'd been here. Sleeping. Under these li-

No; he remembered. Bones crackling like nothing.

No, no, no. He wouldn't do anything like that.

But he would. He did.

He thought about the absolute high that'd been his initial sync with the Berserk Fury. In the arena he'd reached a point where he may as well have been the Zoid. No delay, no misunderstanding. It was completion and perfection and he'd never be whole again without it. His own personal, insignificant discomforts mattered little, he just wanted to crawl back to the Fury, take it for himself, take it from Vega, keep it, it was his-

A stray thought about the Fox paused vicious reverie.

He couldn't really remember what had happened. He'd wanted so badly to rip the Fox to pieces, while at the same time was calmly horrified by the idea.

Had you asked him a year ago about the nature of a Zoid, Brad would have certainly identified it as a machine, a tool, a possession - maybe friendly livestock, at best.

The Shadow Fox had somehow, very quickly changed his mind. He'd never felt such possessiveness over any Zoid before it, and he'd also never felt any such sense of loyalty or acknowledgment from a Zoid in kind. Not too long ago, in the protective shadow of the Fox, he and Naomi had been making love. And everything just felt right.

Now he couldn't even remember what right felt like, as the massive craving for the Fury slammed him again. Over and over in his mind he tried to look away, but couldn't. Simply fixated, petrified, in need. The Fury's appetite became his, and with that came the mortifying need to witness destruction, to inflict pain.

"He can be like that," Vega said idly, and Brad shot up to glare at the unnoticed presence.

"What… the fuck … is wrong with that Zoid."

Vega was seated cross-legged in front of the cell. He was eating from a small tray in his lap, and had a second tray beside him. "He really likes fighting."

"It really likes killing." Brad corrected, angrily. "How are you okay with that?!"

"It's not a big deal. None of those people mattered."

There wasn't any malice in Vega's voice. There wasn't any regret. There wasn't anything. He just sounded like a slightly puzzled child with food in his mouth. Brad stared down at him for a long, silent moment.

"Everyone matters."

Vega chuckled through a sip of water, and pushed the other tray towards Brad's cell. "Uh-huh. Here." At the presence of an item near the floor, a small gap appeared in the energy-field that allowed the tray to be shoved through, before it closed again.

Brad looked like he wanted to continue talking, but quickly knelt to snatch the offered tray - as if its presence might be rescinded. He started wolfing down the food.

"I can get you more later." Vega said, watching him. "They really don't want to give you anything, but I don't care. I'm tired of being hungry."

After finishing everything, Brad also sat cross-legged on the floor and pushed the tray aside. He stared intently, but said nothing. The silence created was aggressive and awkward.

"Is this what it takes to be King in Backdraft? Being a fucking psychopath?" Brad said.

More silence. Vega seemed annoyed. "I'm not a psychopath."

They couldn't help but think about the Berserk Fury simultaneously. Brad closed his eyes.

"If you're friends with that thing, yes you are."

Vega laughed. "Uh. He likes you too. And you seem to like him. Are you a psychopath?"

Brad clearly hadn't thought his conviction all the way through, and scowled. Both eyes opened to narrowed slits. He didn't say anything, just held up and showed Vega his painfully-scabbed palm. "Why, kid?"

Vega grinned a little, but it wasn't happy. More sardonic. "Goes both ways, you know." When Brad didn't seem to understand, Vega showed the older man his own hand. There wasn't a scab or a cut, but there was a distinct, angry red line that matched Brad's injury perfectly.

"Fury apologized." He said, somewhat quietly. "But... I guess not to you."

Brad thought about the Fury. And was immediately plagued with thoughts of the arena battles and the Fury's deep need for destruction. It was wonderful and terrible and disgusting. That an apology could originate from such an entity was incomprehensible.

Vega snapped his fingers twice. "Hey. Don't let him do that. Real bad headache."

Blue eyes focused, unnerved. "Vega. I killed those people."

"It happens, in Zoid battles. Seriously. It's okay."

Brad stared numbly, before averting his gaze to the perhaps-more-empathetic wall.

Silence. A deep inhale.

"You know I thought about joining Backdraft when I was younger?" Brad said. "I mean. I didn't, obviously. But I was close to it. Money, right?"

Vega blinked, attempting to fathom a time in Backdraft where he didn't exist. He honestly didn't think of Backdraft as a separate other much. Having been born and raised in it, to him the everyday world was the curio. Groomed fastidiously by his mother, he thought himself the pseudo-prince of a misunderstood rogue pseudo-nation, one that didn't at all think of itself as criminal.

Just a fulfiller of need.

"And?" He seemed curious. "Why didn't you?"

"Because they ruin people's lives and livelihoods. I didn't want to be part of that." Brad looked back at Vega and tapped a finger to one of the bands tattooed on his arms, demonstrating his firmly chosen profession. "I still don't."

Vega started in with a dismissive chuckle, but it sharply cut off. He didn't just hear the words spoken - he felt the pain in them - personally. Without context or experience the sensations were just sadness, and a heaviness in the chest. He crossed his arms tightly and looked at the floor.

Sensing Vega's distress, the Fury paid closer attention to both of them. Its mental presence sheared into being, the sensation something like smoke and shattered glass filling the room. Brad's temper immediately took a penalty.

"Do you really just think this is all a fucking game, kid?"

"I didn't ask for this either." Vega snapped, standing back up.

"Didn't it ask you if you wanted, you know…"

"Power and control?"

"Yeah. So what'd you think you were signing up for?"

"I don't want those things."

Brad felt his blood run slightly cold, as if he'd just divulged some nasty secret he shouldn't have. He kept his eyes fixed on Vega, unexpectedly watching the child try not to tear up.

Vega failed. Tears brimmed over and he wiped hotly at his face, embarrassed.

"I wanted a friend. A partner. And he knows that. He is that." He regained his composure, met Brad's eyes directly, and brandished the man's pain back at him like a weapon. "But Fury's never asked me to kill anyone. So really, what's wrong with you?"

Brad raised a sharp brow. "You do know that charged particle weapons kill people, right?"

"Not always."

"A weapon of war, banned from mass manufacture, because it was just too easy to win with… sure."

Vega glowered. "I never killed anyone with the CPG."

"Great. Have you killed anyone without it?"

"Fury says you killed a guy before. It doesn't matter."

Intense, uncomfortable silence fell. And stayed. Brad idly got up, folded his arms behind his back, and walked to the other side of the cell. He stared into the corner for several minutes.

"We do need your help." Vega said after a span, his voice greatly subdued. "The Liger did... something. We have to defeat them to make things right again."

"Kill." Brad dryly corrected.

"Kill." Vega agreed, reluctant. "It sucks. But…"

Brad glanced. "Does Bit 'matter', Vega?"

Brown eyes averted and there was another dangerous silence.

"Well?"

Vega would not answer.

"For fuck's sake. Do it yourself."

"I. Can't."

"Oh? Not fond of murdering your opponents? Gotta hire that out?"

Vega suddenly slammed a fist on the energy-field wall, scowling bitterly. "You don't get it. We should've won the Royal Cup. It's my fault we didn't. All of this is my fault and I hate it. I'm- the Liger's too strong. Fury was afraid of what would happen. He tried to do it himself and couldn't."

Brad listened as he quietly returned to the front of the cell. But he was picturing the last moments of the Liger Zero and Berserk Fury's battle that he'd seen from afar. The Fury's ire gouged him at the mere notion - but in regarding its passing, angry thoughts, Brad suddenly understood. It didn't just 'need' a pilot. It needed a pilot. Its drive was such that untethered, it literally went insane and could accomplish nothing.

Brad felt both frightened and empowered by this knowledge, the latter giving rise to revulsion. As if to make a point, the Fury gently stoked the tiniest ember of Brad's own dislike for the Liger and its blonde pilot. It all too readily became an excoriating lick of flame.

Oh no. He closed his eyes, and could feel the Berserk Fury's thick, miry delight seeping in. He wanted none of it. In trying to get away from that, he thought about the arena fight again - and the damnably elated high.

Oh no. His breath caught. He'd only been a razor's width from the notion this entire time, and couldn't keep the deep craving at bay a moment longer.

"Then give it to me," Brad said suddenly, viciously, opening frigid blue eyes. "You're just holding it back. It's mine."

Vega just stared. "What'd I tell you? About headaches?"

Almost on cue, Brad winced back and painfully pressed his palms to his temples.

Brad wasn't wrong - Vega was indeed holding the Fury back. In ways that both nobody understood and would be horrified to learn. Likewise, Vega wasn't wrong - about the headaches. He sighed, exasperated, and pressed a hand to his own head as Brad groaned.

"Look. I think this is stupid too. I don't like you, or anyone else, in my Zoid. But if I gotta put up with it, so do you."

Questionably-humane imprisonment versus a brat's first-world problem. "...kid, I don't th-"

"And stop calling me kid. It pisses me off."

"Sure, if you stop keeping me in a box. Pisses me off."

Vega thoughtfully looked at the cell, as if registering it as an actual obstacle for the first time. He looked back at Brad.

"I'll see what I can do."

Then he left.

It was much later when Layon approached the Shadow Fox.

He felt a strange mix of anticipation and dread. The Zoid wasn't standing at ready, but rather lying down. Slumped, head rolled to one side, snout on the concrete. It'd been heavily damaged over the course of its fight with the Fury. Nothing too severe, just excruciatingly thorough.

Layon had taken advantage of the unexpected break in combat to 'rescue' the Fox, though he knew his claim was a stretch; it'd been clear that the Berserk Fury had other things to worry with after that Organoid had shown up.

That Organoid. What the hell, man.

It'd been easy enough to coax the cowering, limping Fox to safety - because really, anywhere was safer than near the Berserk Fury. Layon had become distinctly aware of that, having foolishly descended to that hellish arena floor himself.

Layon ran a hand along a length of the Fox's damaged leg armor.

Serrated bits were missing in a variety of criss-crossed directions, indicating where the Fury had barely struck and had its teeth glance off - over and over again. The marks started as gouges, but clearly lessened as time went on: the Fox had been learning to better avoid it.

Layon regarded this for a long moment.

The Shadow Fox's eyeglass was dark. Layon walked to its head and tapped a control on the side of the cockpit, requesting entry. The hatch obliged and opened, and Layon got in. He was abruptly reminded his Zoid had been hijacked by a smoker, because the cockpit absolutely reeked of it. He sighed irritably and flicked through a few startup commands, asking the Fox to get up. It growled softly, but did rise.

"So. You went and figured out how to do things on your own, huh?"

No response.

"Was this always something you could do? And you just didn't, because… reasons? Or…?"

Nothing. On the systems panel Layon could see that it was busily using CPU cycles, though. Listening. Thinking.

"Come on. Talk to me. They tried to trash you. I just want to help you."

A brusque whine.

"Well?! Tell me about it! Why didn't you do any of this before, when I was trying to…"

Layon trailed off, realizing he was asking a lot of something that had no real way to communicate with him. He took a moment to ponder, and the Fox took said moment to chuff and display Brad's pilot registration on one console.

The man glanced, and shook his head. "No. Not anymore. We're goi-"

Layon, who had neglected to meaningfully buckle into anything, found himself unceremoniously dumped onto the hangar floor.

"...ah. So that's how it is, huh?"

Chapter Text

Bit awoke in the dead of night to the distinct feeling of unease.

He shot up in bed, chest tight and a skin clammy with a cold, anxious sweat. Not a feeling he was used to. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

A distinct and familiar inward pull; he reflexively glanced towards the hangar. As his head cleared, he could tell that these feelings originated from the Liger. But unlike the distinct impressions it usually provided, these were - put nicely, a mess. It wasn't unlike straining to listen with one ear while being screamed at in the other. It both hurt, and he couldn't make sense of it.

"Liger, bud…"

More of the same.

The severe discomfort compelled Bit out of bed, where he quickly threw on pants and a shirt before stumbling down the hall. The closer he drew to the hangar, the more clear the conflicted impression became: the Liger wanted to attack, to belt an angry, defensive roar, but the Liger was also very aware that this was likely overkill, would likely wake everyone, and likely bring them running, which it didn't want, because...

~Bit. Come quickly. Be quiet.~

The hair stood up on the blonde's neck. He instantly recognized that this voice was the Liger's , but he'd never before heard it with such clarity. Only in dreams… and in grueling moments of combat, when he thought he'd imagined it. Clearly it wasn't his imagination. Unless this was some kind of dream...

~Bit.~ More urgently.

The Zoid's near-palpable anxiety gave Bit heartburn. Not a dream.

The young man grimaced as he peered into the dark hangar. Only a few cool, dim perimeter-security lights were on. The other Zoids were still and in their proper bays, seemingly asleep.

Not his. Of course not his. In one corner the Liger Zero stood tense, bowed forward, forepaws out in front of it. It resembled an over-large cat that'd caught a mouse. To complete the picture its tail erratically twitched and lashed. Bit recognized the motion for what it was: serious agitation.

"Liger," He whispered, quickly crossing the cold floor. "What's-"

Beneath the Liger Zero's foreclaws was what looked to be a small Zoid. A very small Zoid. But small was relative; it was still larger than Bit, and every angle he could see through the Liger's cage of claws was sharp.

Bit froze. The Liger Zero was pinning down an Organoid.

He mainly knew that's what it was, because that's what the Liger mentally tagged it as. Bit had heard about Organoids before, just as most children on Zi had - in the context of fantastical stories. In everyday life they were an occasional branding concept and a neat word for things. They weren't supposed to be real.

The rough-looking creature's red head was poking out from between the Liger's massive claws. It had emerald-green optics, with which it glanced at Bit without interest - then looked straight back at the Liger. It was hissing audibly, and Bit could tell it was speaking. He just didn't understand a word of it.

The Liger seemed to though. Bit surged with the Zoid's conflicted anxiety again. At this distance the intensity was excruciating. A deep fear, a strong need to destroy and banish this clearly evil thing, but also deep sadness and longing and-

"Li-ger," Bit said again, now through his teeth, looking up at the Zoid in pained exasperation. What exactly was he supposed to do?

The Organoid gaped its jaws and made a sound not unlike laughter. With a flash of red it vanished from beneath the Liger Zero's claws, leaving a very surprised and angry Liger with nothing and Bit-

Bit glanced and the Organoid was standing beside him. That lasted all of a half-second before the Liger Zero exploded into a roar. A charged laser-claw crashed down in a swat mere feet from Bit's side, slapping the Organoid away. The blonde yelped and staggered back from the heated swath of air, watching the Organoid vanish again mid-tumble.

Bit regained his balance and blinked. It could... teleport? Okay. Cool.

Not cool.

He looked around in a panic, finding himself abruptly shepherded beneath the Liger. It crouched low above him; growling. In the otherwise dead-silence of the night, he could hear its soft inner workings, and its equivalent of a quick pulse.

Nothing.

Bit turned a full, frantic circle. Was it gone?

Okay, so he knew it was an Organoid but- what the fuck? Why was it here? What was-

Bad bad bad dangerous bad bad bad - he distinctly understood the Liger's sentiment; but it also spoke, seeming upset. With… itself?

~What is bad? He said he needs our help-~ BAD

Bit honestly couldn't tell if he was supposed to be concerned or terrified, and felt like his eyes were going to permanently cross with the way the Liger kept bickering. He pointedly walked to one of the Zoid's legs and placed a firm hand on it, somehow understanding that's what it needed. Contact.

His voice shook. "Bud. C'mon. What's going on?"

The Liger calmed slowly into silence, and glanced around. Then looked at Bit upside-down. ~I do not know.~

Bit didn't know why, but he somehow expected the Liger to have a better handle on the situation. This was before realizing that the Zoid had an equal expectation that he would know what to do.

Great.

"Is- was that actually an Organoid?"

~Yes.~

"Is it dangerous?"

~I...~

There once more came that red flicker, and Bit snapped his gaze around, expecting to see the Organoid again. Instead, exactly nothing knocked the wind out of him and he dropped to his knees, gagging in shock as the Liger shrieked and bounded off across the hangar. The other Zoids woke to peer at this abrupt commotion with varying levels of concern.

There certainly wasn't any disagreement now: the Liger Zero reflected absolute indignation and rage, roaring and bucking around while its pilot choked for breath. Bit felt bile rising and really wasn't in a place to stop it; he violently retched, realizing a dim moment later that Liger was in similar throes.

There was a truly nasty series of sounds, followed by a lot of wet and metal and hitting the ground.

Bit wiped his face and stood, abruptly feeling a lot better and wondering-

Yep. It was the Organoid. Lying on its back, its body oddly, symmetrically split along panel lines, with a multitude of protruding wires laying limp, every which-way. It looked like it'd been knocked out.

The floor was slick with Zoid fluids, which still dripped from the Liger's undercarriage in thick, gooey ropes. Bit made a face at the mess, but quickly met his Zoid's gaze with concern. "You okay?"

~I am fine.~ The Liger sounded disgusted, and glanced at the creature on the ground. ~The nerve.~

Leon's Blade Liger stalked from its bay to carefully regard the Organoid. The Liger Zero shook off, reset its paneling and and joined the Blade Liger. Bit listened to the Zoids rumble to one another, as Zoids often did.

He neared the two, looking down between their massive fanged snouts at the strange creature. Bit thought that the Organoid, strangely, looked a little less awful than it had a few minutes earlier. But between his own coursing adrenaline and bewilderment, he was hesitant to be sure of anything at the moment. His innate mechanic once-over told him one thing, though: besides seeming to share the same base materials, this 'Organoid' looked wholly alien and like no machine or Zoid Bit knew of. It was both really interesting and sort-of terrifying, because he wanted to touch but-

"Bit, what the hell?!"

Bit glanced.

It was grumpy Leon in only boxers, and grumpy Leon in only boxers wasn't pleased to see any of the things he saw. Least of all, his Zoid involved.

"No Leon, look! There's-" Bit heard a scraping and saw that telltale flicker of red. His mind registered what'd happened before his eyes did, and sure enough by the time he looked back, the Organoid was gone.

His eyelid twitched. "There… was… an Organoid. Maybe it'll come back."

"Bit. You are dreaming. It is 2 in the morning." The young Toros set his jaw irritably, eyeing the mess. "Whatever you think you're doing, please... stop. Shut the Liger up and go back to-"

The red Blade Liger chuffed at its pilot. Leon, automatically receptive, had his eyes unfocus a little … and he suddenly blinked a lot more awake. His gaze snapped up at his Blade Liger in confusion. Then dumbfounded, down back to Bit.

"What the fuck?" Were the next words out of Leon's mouth.

The blonde broadly shrugged.

Vega walked silently down the cold corridor.

He hated this base.

He hated the forest, he hated the humidity, he hated that his quarters here were but a pale facsimile of his old room. He hated that this base's food sucked, he hated that Backdraft's operations - including its internal supply lines - had been severely disrupted for months, causing said food to suck.

He hated being hungry all the time - not for lack of eating, but because he'd somehow become tied what seemed to be every negative experience of the other pilot that Fury had chosen. He hated that he didn't know how far that particular issue went - it had a lot of really concerning implications. He hated that he couldn't tell Sara, because he knew she'd react poorly. He hated Brad for simply existing and being in the Fury's good graces, because the Berserk Fury was his.

He hated feeling alone like this.

~Vega. You are not alone. You are my friend. He is not.~

Reassuring, but still frustrating. The sense that the Fury was holding him at an arm's length was pervasive.

~I do not wish to hurt you any more than I already have.~ Plaintive. Apologetic.

Vega stopped. There arrived the searing pain in his head he'd quickly learned to ignore - but even brief considerations would immediately bring it back. The Fury had indeed hurt him, terribly. Permanently. But it hadn't meant to.

Vega could easily tell that the Fury craved a greater intimacy, and felt bad for his resentment. But it existed nonetheless.

The child stepped out into the Fury's hangar, ducking under several scaffolds to come around to the front of the beast. Various Backdraft mechanics were refitting and installing the Berserk Fury's armor; they threw Vega brief salutes as they noticed him, and he nodded acknowledgement.

It'd be impossible for him to effectively describe the scintillating delight that was to be in the presence of his Zoid. A sense of mastery, a sense of calm, a sense of invulnerability and safety and everything one could ever want. His bones, his teeth, everything in him ached to be closer; this was despite the fact he walked the constant tightrope of a migraine, always wanting to surrender wholly to the thing but, quite frankly, knowing better.

He leaned onto one of the Fury's massive talons, dropping his forehead to the cold metal.

Fury. Does Bit matter?

~Nothing truly matters. Only we create meaning.~

Vega wasn't prepared for that response in the slightest, and blinked several times.

What do you mean?

~We answer to no one, Vega. What we say is what is. We will seize our fates together. Nothing will stop us.~

The tightrope act became difficult in light of such statements. Vega's breath caught with unbidden excitement.

But he felt a huge lump in his throat again and quieted. Do... we really have to kill Bit? He-he was just-

~He and the Liger are one in the same. All must be destroyed.~

It clearly wasn't open for discussion. Vega bowed his head further, but looked up after a moment.

Are... we one in the same?

The Zoid turned its head slightly, thoughtfully, causing the various mechanics to freeze in place. Those in eyeshot looked to Vega for the OK, and he gave them a vague, affirmative nod. The Berserk Fury didn't respond for quite some time. Then:

~We will be.~

Chapter Text

Bit finished scrubbing the swath of hangar floor and threw the brush back into a bucket. He wiped his brow and picked up a hose, rinsing the concrete down. The Liger Zero stood watching across the way, eyeglass dimmed and thoughtful.

Bit glanced, and sent a little jet of water its way. "You could've done this outside."

~Sorry.~

A blink. Man, that was going to take some getting used to. Bit squinted at the Liger for a moment, and it reverted to its more typical method of expression: it pictured how the Organoid had entered the Liger's inner Core chamber and how the Zoid had panicked, outraged at the thing's impudent behavior.

"Right. But... is that something they do, or what?"

~Well. Yes. But it is customary to ask.~

Bit was having enough difficulty processing the existence of an Organoid at all. He could tell there was a lot he didn't know, but was going to need time to wrap his mind around the first parts before rooting for deeper ones. "What'd it say to you?"

The Liger paused for a long enough span that Bit stopped and looked at it, expectantly.

~He asked for my help. He was... not well.~

Bit was guessing by the Zoid's reaction last night that the answer had been a resounding 'no.' But the hesitance in his partner's voice made him squint. He took a breath to speak, but:

"Do you always just hold casual conversations with no-one?"

It was Naomi. Bit faced her with surprise, watching the woman languidly make her way into the hangar. Most people on the Blitz Team were used to Bit just talking to the Liger. Naomi wasn't on the team.

"Oh, heya. Nah, just chatting with Liger."

"Seems a little one-sided."

Bit regarded her. "Not really. Zoids have a lot to say if you listen."

Naomi glanced at her Gun Sniper, then to the Liger. "Yours seems to have a lot to say. Of a night. When people are trying to sleep."

The blonde crossed his arms. "You saw the footage. Come on, Liger was freaking out. I was trying to be quiet."

Naomi had indeed seen the footage, and was still at a loss of what to make of it. Her life seemed hellbent on making less and less sense as of late; she shrugged. "Not blaming you, Bit. Everyone's just wigging out about that thing and I'm... " There were several words she considered using. She settled on: "I don't find it that interesting. Came out here to see if you needed help."

~She is unhappy.~

Bit's eyes flicked to the Liger, then settled back on Naomi.

Of course she was unhappy. There were still no official battles to take anyone's mind off of anything. There was only so much maintenance and busywork to be done around a base, but she didn't want to go back to her apartment just to sit there. Despite extensive efforts, especially by her, Leon, and Steve, no one had found hide nor hair of Brad, and she'd lost considerable hope on that front. Though she didn't want to, she found herself thinking of Brad in a past tense - there simply wasn't much reason for optimism at this point.

She too had been left for dead, and per what many had said to her, she likely would've died had she gone much longer without being found. Realistically it'd only been her Zoid that saved her. She looked at it again, uncertain, and it turned its head slightly her way.

Her emotions blunted, almost defensively.

Naomi was starting to feel unmoored as a Warrior and perhaps person as well. She wondered if she should've felt more strongly about the whole ordeal, but... she simply didn't. She'd spent most of her time at the Blitz base around Leon, since she knew him best and he offered her considerable support. But now he was fixating on the whole Organoid thing, and that was well-and-truly on her last few nerves.

Bit grinned a little awkwardly at her and started to put the hose away. "I'm gonna run a few checks on Liger." He offered a friendly hand to Naomi after he freed it up. "Don't need help, but can always use some."

Naomi returned a small grin, and idly pulled her hair back in preparation to work.

The Fox watched Layon enter the small bay, holding something new.

It was a bit rough and mismatched-looking, the very definition of a prototype, but to the Fox it seemed familiar. A helmet with several clusters of cylinders near the back, ponytails of wire arching from each one. Each bundle of wire was neatly bound, the spliced ends terminating in a dangling bouquet of the typical connectors found in Zoids' cockpits.

Layon whistled softly and pointed at the ground. A request, not a command.

The Fox craned its neck and peered intently at the space Layon pointed to.

"Oh, come on. You know what I'm asking."

Chuff.

"Let's just try this out, okay?"

Chuff.

"I just want to chat. That's what this is for!" He proudly held up the helmet, and plopped it on his head in demonstration. "The system you're based on used one just like this. Same specs and everything. It should work!"

The Fox pondered the man for a moment, before leaning down and deigning to let him into the cockpit. Layon didn't take this for granted: he moved slowly and with great transparency, as would one trying to gain the trust of a wary animal.

It worked. Everything worked. Layon lacked nothing in the department of skill or intelligence - his main and most serious shortages were in common sense. He focused on the working HUD displays on the helmet's visor, and gave a triumphant laugh.

"Ah, see, what'd I tell you!"

There was something strangely uncomfortable, almost too intimate, being able to discern the Zoid's impressions this way. It didn't speak outright, but between strong inclinations and a choppy HUD readout of text, it was completely understandable.

[Dr. Layon. Hello. Let's: chat?_ ]

"Yeah!" He concentrated on the extent of the Shadow Fox's systems, the AI understanding and mirroring an all-systems readout and diagnostic. WIth the extra input, however, Layon automatically parsed its strain from the battle as soreness - and didn't like that.

"Owww . Sorry. I promise, I had nothing to do with that."

[Am: Aware._ ]

It reflected fear . It had been very afraid of the Fury and what it said.

[Do not: wish to fight: Berserk Fury._ ]

Layon hadn't ever really considered how excruciating being ripped apart was from a Zoid's point of view. They could just be repaired, rebuilt, right? In most cases at least. So what was the big deal?

The Fox's precise, horrified notions consumed him with their intensity. That was the big deal. Layon awkwardly patted a console, clearing his throat against the unbidden terror. "I- uh. You won't have to, again. Don't worry."

He received clear impressions of the Zoid's anxiety. [Dr. Layon: does not: know that._ ]

The Fox was right, of course. Layon had no intention of exposing the Fox to the Berserk Fury again, now or ever. But he'd never had that intention to begin with. " Hey, uh. You wanna talk about something else?"

[Sure._ ] For a split-second, it reminded Layon of Brad. Just as it learned to fight, it probably learned to communicate based on pilot feedback. Something would probably need to be done about that.

"Good. So, you wanna tell me what's gone on with your systems? And why you wouldn't get on with any of our damn pilots?"

Layon received an interesting lesson in machine learning as told by a machine. When pressed for an answer as to Backdraft's pilots, however, the Fox balked.

'Brad understands ' had been its only answer in that regard. Why didn't it want to work with the other pilots? Why'd it'd decide to just merrily go with the asshole mercenary who took it on a joyride? Why, why, why? No good reason given. Simply, Brad understood better.

Brad seemed to understand the Fury, too. So did Vega, obviously. And Vega had never tried to pilot the Shadow Fox - he'd never even been to the Mackaray base before now.

Layon's mind ticked. Could Vega pilot the Fox? Could Bit? Could Bit pilot the Fury? Was the Liger as picky as the Fury? Could Vega pilot the Liger? Could Brad pilot the Liger? Brad had actually been around the Liger Zero for a long time. Did Brad "understand" it too?

Layon figured he could get an answer to at least one of these questions.

"Who authorized the Berserk Fury to be refitted with its armor?" Sara said.

Vega nonchalantly slid his eyes at his mother entering his room. "I did."

"And who gave you permission to do that?"

"...I did."

Vega had learned from a young age how power and the abuse thereof worked - and it was a lesson he'd taken to heart. Most of Backdraft would defer to his casual command, knowing full well they weren't supposed to but not wanting to deal with him not getting his way (which Sara would usually permit anyways.) The realization of this influence had grown as he did; he'd begun to relish in his ability to tell most exactly what to do, and began to hungrily project futures in which he was simply obeyed.

What Vega read as increasing deference however, was in reality fear. The Fury was a nasty open secret, a festering lesion on a major artery of the Backdraft Organization's heart. Though the group wasn't known for its great respect of life or property, some individuals had begun to falter when tasked with putting body bags in the incinerator alongside trash. Some at the Mackaray base simply couldn't deal with being around the Berserk Fury, going AWOL or abandoning Backdraft entirely.

Sara narrowed her eyes at her child's quiet, defiant stare.

She did want this particular, exhausting nightmare with the Fury to be over. But she just as badly wanted some order to the deployment of the Fury's assault. Everything had to go smoothly, the Liger had to be defeated. Backdraft would be playing a very risky hand by revealing itself and the fully-operational Berserk Fury at all. The only way she'd managed to get such a foray approved was to present it as something the Committee could broadcast. Given Backdraft's ongoing lack of ability, a critical mass of bored rich people were being deprived of entertainment they were quite used to. These bored rich people were willing to shell out a lot of money to be less bored, especially for something so vicious as promised.

But Vega had made it clear the Fury was going after the Liger regardless of what anyone wanted. Though it'd be easier to wait until at least one of their satellites was back online, it simply wasn't feasible - there wasn't even a working timeline yet.

Providing the Fury with alternate pilots had indeed somehow allowed Vega to again wake and function. But he always seemed tired, and Sara could tell he was constantly hiding discomfort or pain.

She couldn't shake the sense that the Berserk Fury had done something very real, and perhaps very permanent, to her only child. Were that the case, she wasn't sure she could ever forgive herself.

Vega's defiance cooled to caution as Sara's silence dragged on. The woman cleared her throat and responded, at length.

"Not wise. The base hasn't been fully cleared yet."

She was referring to the creature - the Organoid - that'd shown up. The base was being searched high and low for trace of it. Nothing had been found, but…

"It went away. Fury said it won't come back."

"And how do you know that? How does he?"

Vega shrugged. "We don't like it."

Well okay then. Sara sighed. "Capturing something like that would be extremely valuable to the Organization."

Vega looked intently at his mother. "It's bad. We don't want it here. If it shows up again, it dies."

By now she should've been used to the Fury's random intrusions into her child's eyes and voice, but she still wasn't and it was disturbing every time. She did catch the mental edge of Vega's unsettling experience with the creature, picturing how it had stared straight into him. Its alien depth resonated, but something was very wrong - a universal, profound wrong, like a fire that burned cold instead of hot.

Vega broke eye contact, taking a deep breath. He changed the subject. "What are we going to do with the other pilot once we're done?"

"That's a problem that should take care of itself."

He chuckled without mirth. "And if it doesn't?"

"Don't worry. We'll take care of it if that's an issue."

He worried. But showed no sign of it.

Layon approached the cell's transparent wall and silently peered in. Brad was seated facing the wall, arms around knees pulled tightly to his chest.

"Hey."

No response.

"Brad."

"What." He didn't look at Layon.

Layon tapped the wall for the other man's attention. He was holding a cigarette and a lighter, offering the former. "Trade you, for a moment."

Brad's voice was simply tense. "Layon. Get me out of here."

"Can't."

"You can, but you won't."

That was true... but: "You don't understand what's going on."

Brad looked over his shoulder irritably. He stood after a moment and approached, opening his hand with an impatient beckon for the cigarette. "You're not the first person to tell me that. Feel free to explain."

Layon sighed and set the cigarette on the ground, rolling it through the small opening that appeared at the base of the field. Brad grabbed it, reflexively went for a lighter he didn't have, and cursed. He then looked up at Layon.

"You're not gonna like it." Layon said.

"Ah, yes. Because I like it so much, right now."

"I'll make you a deal. You answer my question. And I'll tell you what's going on."

"Better deal: you give me a light, I'll answer your question."

"No, because then you might not talk." Layon didn't wait for a response. "Did you ever pilot the Liger Zero? "

It wasn't a question Brad expected. His face immediately betrayed at least part of the answer. Layon's eyes widened, but when Brad didn't continue, Layon quickly held up the lighter, and another cigarette. The implied deal was obvious.

"Yes. I did." Brad said bluntly. "And I'll tell you more, if you tell me more. And, " He nodded his head at the offered goods.

Layon complied.

"And they just kept... trying." Layon had produced a hip flask at some point, and took a deep swig from it. "And, nobody's lived. Except you. The end."

Brad stared. He took a long drag, exhaled at length and was silent for a long time.

"You guys took Jack Sisco, didn't you."

Layon nodded, faintly. Then quickly shook his head. "Not my idea. After the nobodies didn't pan out, Sara thought maybe skill had something to do with it. Vega's not dead, after all."

"Jack was one of the best." Brad frowned. "And they weren't 'nobodies.'"

"To Backdraft they were." Layon said with a smirk, though it edged towards rueful. "But hey! You're someone, at least."

Silence. Brad grated a sigh. He was beginning to understand where Vega's attitude towards who 'mattered' may have come from.

"Am I? I'm not special, Layon. I'm just a pilot. A mercenary, no less. I worked for Toros, for fuck's sake." Brad was well-acquainted with Layon and Toros's ridiculous, long-standing rivalry, and knew that Layon knew that the Blitz Team hadn't been worth much prior Bit.

"Your individual Class now, and victories more recently with the Blitz Team say otherwise." Layon shrugged. "A lot of good Zoid Warriors aren't… you know, one-man bands. Maybe you just needed a better Zoid."

Brad narrowed his eyes. It was silent again for a few moments.

"Is the Fox okay?"

The question shouldn't have surprised or annoyed Layon, but it did both. "It's just fine."

A subtle nod. "You still gonna let me keep it?"

Layon promptly emptied the rest of his flask before answering. "Sure. If you live." He didn't let that statement hang. "Now, your turn. Tell me about you and the Liger."

Brad absently chewed the filter of his cigarette, eyeing the taller man. "Not really interested in dying, Layon."

"Aren't we all." Layon motioned impatiently with a hand. "Liger."

A lot of hesitation followed. "It's gonna sound fucked."

"Try me, Brad."

Brad leapt down from the Liger's cockpit with a frown. Because nothing had really happened and the Liger hadn't moved, Leon was laughing at him. But Leon's laughter stopped when he saw the other man's expression.

"You try," Brad said quietly, without elaboration.

So Leon did. Similarly to Brad, he didn't get anywhere. Less similarly, he didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. Brad studied Leon as he climbed back down. The young Toros gave a helpless shrug.

"Man… maybe you're right. Maybe-"

"Did you feel anything?" Brad asked, suspicious.

A blink. "Feel what? A Zoid that won't start?"

Leon laughed again. Brad did not laugh, or smile for that matter. Leon stopped for a second time, and looked at the mercenary intently. Oh, he was serious.

"That Zoid feels weird. Really weird." Brad said. It was clear that he was genuinely bothered.

"Like…?"

Brad hesitated, but trusted Leon so made the attempt. However, describing the inexplicable didn't tend to go well. By the time Brad gave up trying to explain the myriad of sensations to his very confused-looking teammate, he'd made the decision to try again. He abruptly started to climb back up the Liger's leg.

"Fuck it. I can pilot this thing."

Leon just watched, confused.

The Liger rumbled softly as Brad slipped back into the cockpit and seized the controls. Brad knew what to expect now, so wasn't quite as put off by it. Knowing that none of it was actually going to hurt helped too: he took a deep breath and pushed the throttles forward.

Nothing.

He felt the Zoid regard him, judgmental. Sharp and unbidden, Brad found himself thinking about all things carnal, and money, and money owed him by Toros, and his irritatingly low pilot ranking, and how empty he felt, and the squeeze of a trigger-

Brad blinked several times and squinted at the consoles. He shoved the throttles harder. "Go."

He had the distinct impression that the Zoid did not approve.

Brad raised and twitched a brow, still swimming in the mixed feelings of contact. "And I think you suck because you won't fucking go," He snapped at it. "Come on. Let's see what you can do!"

The Liger started walking in a tight circle, its head slightly inclined. Leon stepped then staggered back, correctly assessing that the Zoid was gearing up to bolt. It made several erratic bounds around the hangar, before tearing off into the dusk outside. Fast.

Brad quickly realized he was not at all in command of the Zoid, but rather a tenuously-welcome guest in its slipstream. The Liger continued its sidelong regard, with Brad staring right back. At first, the man was defiant, but defiance quickly melted into a growing terror at the lack of control.

~Trust me. Let go.~

Despite the clear, kind warmth of the voice, it both startled and angered Brad. First of all: What was this bullshit? Zoids didn't talk. That was freaking him the fuck out. Second of all…

No. He was going to pilot this thing. His knuckles went white as he shifted his grip on the controls, forcing the issue. The vice-like grip on his bones intensified, he couldn't breathe, he-

He sharply, angrily stopped the Liger Zero, muscles cording as he fought its near-solid controls. "I don't think you understand how this works. Pilots pilot-"

The Liger Zero's eyeglass blazed, indignant. This didn't come as a voice, but as a strong impression: but partners know their place.

He was torn from the slipstream, he hit the bottom of the icy falls, fickle pleasure turned to searing pain and Brad yelped, letting go of the controls in shock. The Zoid's hard harness bucked up and hit him, seemingly intentionally - and without further ado the Liger's cockpit hatch hissed open and the Zoid threw Brad out into the sand with a downward flick of its head.

Stunned silent, his nerves raw and screaming, Brad spit sand, rolled over, and lay on his back. There he carefully pondered both his grip on reality and his life decisions in general.

He stayed there even as the sun set, and the Liger dismissively stalked off.

Leon arrived some time later in a vehicle. He leaned over in the dusk's light, peering at Brad.

"I figured-"

"Not. One. Word. To Toros."

"Not a word."

Brad shrugged conclusively. He leaned on and stared at the wall, not particularly fond of the memory.

Nor was he particularly fond of the idea he was expected to destroy the damn Liger. His irritation was old and had significantly eroded over time - a lot had happened. Maybe he was mis-remembering things. Maybe he was wrong. The Liger was Bit's, seemed to work fine. Nothing more had ever been said. It didn't matter anymore.

He felt the Fury in his periphery and twitched.

~You are not a very good liar.~

Brad closed his eyes. If he actually was forced to go through with this madness … could he and the Fury even defeat the Liger Zero? It and its pilot were fierce, successful Warriors. And if Bit or the Liger understood and responded appropriately to the actual threat on their life, it could very well be them killing him. Brad had very mixed feelings about that.

~They will not defeat or destroy us.~

Layon had been pondering his empty flask quietly. "You're right. That does sound fucked." He looked at Brad. "Vega said the Berserk Fury talks too."

"...yep."

"Interesting. Have you heard the Fox?"

Brad pointedly gnashed the cigarette filter in his teeth. "You're way past one question."

Layon just kept staring. "The Shadow Fox was built with an AI system. It works, really well. Did you know it managed, by itself, to not get killed by you and the Fury?"

Brad's face fell, but recovered slightly. "There wasn't a pilot?"

"No."

It was the most surprising, alarming, disappointing relief Brad had ever felt in his life. "How? A robot pilot?"

"No. As I said. AI system in the Zoid. Like… a pseudo-Ultimate X. Based off some old Imperial technology." Layon abruptly toasted with nothing, at no-one. "And it can actually fight. And learn! I'm a genius!"

Brad did want to know more, he wanted to ask questions. But the deprivation of his current reality set in and his vague intrigue was replaced by an ashy nihilism.

The Fury seized on it. None of this would matter if he died piloting the Berserk Fury, which he could see no good way out of and desperately wanted to take it for himself anyways. And even if he succeeded at its stated mission - he'd be despised, he'd be ostracized, or worst case scenario he'd be outright put to death - not like it mattered, as he would be completely untouchable in the best of ways. Accidental death by battling misadventure was one thing; clear murder was another entirely - but this wasn't murder, it wasn't revenge, it was simply the way of things.

Layon observed Brad's descent into silence and only half-understood it. He went off:

"So, funny story... not funny, actually. Vega was hit hard with rhabdo after the Royal Cup. Got real sick. He's piloted plenty of advanced Zoids before, real intense stuff for an adult, nevermind a kid. And that's just never happened, you know?" The man paused, and shrugged. "The only different factor was the Berserk Fury. Pushed him way too hard, I guess."

It wasn't unusual for pilots to suffer malaise after particularly difficult battles. Yet, though being a pro-level Zoid pilot was mentally and physically demanding... it didn't typically drive people into kidney failure.

"You seem fine though," Layon said with a firm nod, getting to his point. He seemed more interested in making himself feel better than Brad, though. "So… you should be fine."

Brad didn't know what rhabdo was and didn't care, wasn't really listening. "Sure. Whole murder issue notwithstanding."

Layon gazed at his empty flask again. A shrug. "Eh… nobody will ever know about any of that. Unless you tell them."

"The Berserk Fury wants to kill Bit. And the Liger."

"No it doesn't. It just wants to-" Layon caught himself, as Brad choked a laugh.

"Sure, Layon. Sure. Tell me what a Zoid that fuckin' whispers sweet nothings to me really wants. Go ahead. I'm all ears."

Layon's brows dropped. Vega and Sara had never mentioned this. And Brad really didn't have a reason to lie about it. "You sure?"

Brad grimaced. "So, let's see: it wants to fire on the fucking base from a couple kilometers out, to start. It doesn't care if it hits the Liger outright or not. If so, great. If not, it'll just really piss it off. Doesn't matter." The man closed his eyes and dipped his head, trying to remember the base's layout. There were definitely ways to try to minimize damage, but...

Layon stared with a vague unease.

Brad looked back up, incensed. His voice strained with the effort of curbing emotion. "Fuck, Layon. Do you want everyone dead?!"

No, he didn't really want anyone dead. In general he was fairly indifferent to people living or dying around him.  But the Blitz Team contained people he had opinions about. That Leena wasn't likely to be at the base somewhat consoled him, but for all of his violent posturing he didn't want Steve, Steve's annoying son, Oscar's child, or any of them dead.

Layon just looked at Brad, a blank look hiding a roil of anxiety. The actual depravity of this entire exercise finally hit him like a ton of bricks. It'd taken him considering folks he sort of liked being obliviously obliterated to reach that conclusion, but unfortunately once there he couldn't escape it... or think of anything to say.

Or do. His typical bravado failed him.

Sara and Vega now represented some of the very upper reaches of Backdraft's social hierarchy. He himself was more than a few rungs above minion, but not in any real position of authority. Matters were made worse by the fact Sara had moved to reclaim Alteil's considerable position after he'd been killed… as far as Layon knew the Committee had granted the request.

Backdraft was suddenly a very daunting entity when you wanted to do something you knew it wouldn't like.

At length, Brad scowled and wouldn't look at Layon anymore after he didn't answer.

"Don't suppose you've got anything stronger on hand?" He said, disgustedly flicking away the cigarette butt.

Layon just shook his head and silently walked off.

Chapter Text

Vega stood in front of the energy-field and folded his arms. "Hey."

It was a formality. Brad knew Vega had been approaching, and locked eyes with the child as he arrived.

Vega immediately held up a small folding knife, and flicked open the blade. He showed it to Brad. "I need you to try something."

Brad didn't say anything, just kept staring. A brow twitched.

Vega sighed and dropped the blade to the ground, kicking it into the cell with a quick skid of metal. Brad blinked as the blade skipped across the floor to his boots, then squinted with suspicion. The child then knelt, and stuck his forearm under the gap in the wall.

"I'm sure you won't mind." He said, wryly. "Come on."

Brad glanced blankly between the knife and Vega, who was impatient.

"Cut my arm. Stab it. Whatever."

"...the fuck is your problem?"

"Can you just do it?"

"No." Brad picked up the knife and looked at it. Expensive, well-balanced, clean lines, subtly emblazoned with Backdraft's mark. "I'll keep this though."

Vega sighed into the floor and sat back up. "You're gonna like it a lot less if he does it."

"Does wh-"

Brad realized a second too late, and tried to throw down the blade. He didn't. He couldn't. Instead his treacherous arm plunged it straight into his thigh. Though he managed to bite back a yell, Vega wasn't as successful. The child gripped his own leg and screeched out, "Okay okay okay okay!"

Brad ripped the blade out of his leg with a choked whine. His eyes shot back to Vega. Vague understanding dawned - the hand injury wasn't a one-off. In defiance of all sense, there was some sort of link. "Oh shit."

"Yeah... yeah. I need- I want to see if it…"

"I'm not going to stab you." Brad threw the knife back. "Have fun."

Brad noticed that the child's demeanor had completely changed. A chuckle - the Fury's; Vega picked the knife up and plunged it into his throat, ripping the blade straight across, a gout of blood-

Brad startled awake on the bench, hands grasping for his throat.

He was fine.

Vega was indeed standing by the cell wall. But there were no wounds, no knife, no blood. He just looked a little intrigued, a little disturbed. "You… saw that, huh."

Brad said nothing, just stared, wide-eyed.

"Yeah… uh. This might be a problem." Vega said.

"That's real?"

Brown eyes darted in thought. Vega looked at his hand, then at Brad. "I… I think so, but I-"

"But you're too chickenshit to actually see what happens." Brad sat up and faced Vega.

Vega had never been described as chickenshit in his entire short life, but he knew what it meant and resented it fiercely. "I'm not- I just- I know something 's going to happen."

"Whatever, kid. It's not an issue if you don't slit your fucking throat."

Vega smiled impolitely, with too many teeth. "Or you, yours."

"Not really into mutually assured destruction. I just want to leave."

Vega started shaking his head. "If Sara figures this out you're never getting out of here."

"Then let me out."

"We have to take care of the Liger. Then..."

"Then what, Vega. Then what."

Vega blinked. He didn't know. He wasn't sure. The Fury had just promised that everything would be better, that they could get on with their life, seize their destiny and whatnot. But he'd never specified how this would happen. Or what it would entail. It just…

He thought about what Sara had said. The child abruptly deactivated the energy field, and took a step back. "Just... come with me."

Brad froze, taking in this development.

"Don't run." Vega said through his teeth.

Brad bolted. The child's face fell.

Brad tore most of the way down the dark corridor before his eyes unfocused, his pace slowed, and he trotted to a smothering grip of the Fury was literally everywhere, inescapable and filling his veins with ice and a willful obedience. The drive to flee went extinct, the desire did not. Brad just stood there, staring down the hall, trapped-animal panic in his eyes.

Vega arrived beside him and sighed in exasperation. "You can't leave. Like. Can't."

The child was surprised to see furious tears welling in the older man's eyes, and that rage came sharply to bear: Brad turned to Vega and slammed him into the wall, shoving him up off of the ground with a forearm.

But the child didn't seem alarmed, just annoyed. "Come on. You wanted out of the box. You're out. This is how you get shot."

"Bet that'll suck for you."

Vega's jaw worked a bit as he considered. Yeah, it probably would. "I need you to believe me here… you really, really don't want Sara to figure this out. I don't either."

"Then let me leave."

"I can't. For the same reason you can't." And it wasn't a lie. Vega was equally at the Fury's mercy, albeit on its better side. "You're the one who can help us. Fury needs us."

"I'm not interested in helping you and I don't care what your Zoid needs. I don't want to hurt anyone else. I want to go home."

Vega folded his arms and sneered half-heartedly. "Don't always get what you want."

"And I suppose you do?"

"You think I want a bunch of strangers touching, piloting, and puking in my Zoid? You think I want to be in this stupid little base? You think I want to be the loser whose fault this all is?" Vega laughed, that obnoxious laugh. "Sure, yeah. I get what I want."

Brad scowled. "There has to be another way, Vega. I can't do this."

"You can, and you will." The Fury's vile demeanor glinted in Vega's eyes. "You have no choice. Cease this conflict."

Brad couldn't keep Vega pinned against the wall, couldn't stay firmly standing, couldn't have a single coherent thought. He knew it was the Fury, and wanted to fight off its influence, but the world became an irrelevant haze. The Fury gently peeled Brad away, then let go.

Vega dropped to the ground, straightened his shirt, and looked up at Brad, who glared down at him. After a span of terse silence, they walked quietly down the corridor together.

It was awkward, uncomfortable, and irritating in every way imaginable. But Brad wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to feel slightly more human again and get a damn shower.

He didn't have anything clean to change into. Yet, as Brad was acquainted with living rough, this wasn't the problem it might've been for most. Though he wanted nothing more than to leave this godforsaken place, Brad knew damn well he, quite literally, could not. So while angrily debating his options, he washed some of his clothes in Vega's bathroom. Of which Vega had his own private - albeit small - one, because of course he did.

Vega had scarcely done manual labor in his entire life, outside of that which training as a pilot entailed. Brad's aggressive display of self-sufficiency despite the situation, intrigued him.

They'd also not said anything to each other for about an hour.

"You're pretty tough." Vega finally said.

Brad glanced but didn't reply, just wrung out his shirt and hung it up with everything else. He just leaned on the counter, wearing a towel around his waist and glowering at existence.

"Fury likes that about you."

"Lucky me."

"He's not a bad Zoid."

"Hate to see what you think a bad Zoid is."

They both thought about the Liger Zero simultaneously, albeit for different reasons. They looked at each other, and Vega leaned forward curiously. "You've piloted him?"

"Tried. Failed."

"What was he like?"

Brad shrugged noncommittally, but the Fury leered in. ~He was judgmental. I am not. You accept me, and I accept you.~ The man deeply resented how much he both hated and thrived on hearing that. He looked at Vega again. "Either Bit and the Liger 'matter' to you or they don't. And why ask questions if they don't."

Vega withdrew and silently glared.

Silence, for another span.

Brad sighed. "Kid, I don't envy your situation. But you've dragged me into this shitshow and now I'm stuck too. I don't know what to do any more than you do."

"How about you actually stop calling me kid."

"Stop acting like one."

Vega stood and paced irritably around the small room, shooting dirty looks at Brad but ultimately settling back into a sulky silence. "I didn't do this. Sara did."

"Layon told me."

"Then why are you blaming me?"

"Your damn Zoid, your damn circus."

Vega looked to the Fury for support, but it was just watching the two, neutral. Brad warily eyed the Fury in-mind, then glanced at Vega. It was clear he was addressing them both. "Why, exactly, do we have to off Bit and the Liger? What about that fixes anything?"

Vega wouldn't meet Brad's eyes. "I don't know."

The Fury said nothing.

"It's a simple question. I deserve an answer!"

Vega held out his hands and tamped them downwards, wincing. "Don't yell."

Brad took a deep breath but thought better of it. He kept a sidelong glare on the Fury, becoming aware that his temper was an open invitation for its fuckery.

The Fury regarded Brad idly, thoughtfully. After a moment it bled down between the two, sinking affectionate talons into both, a stifling, yet strangely comforting presence. ~The Liger Zero is our enemy. He brings untold pain and wishes suffering upon us. We will destroy him, restore balance and be free of the menace.~

Vega was used to the Fury's affection. Brad was not. He tried to keep the Fury at a metaphorical arm's length, squinting at its statement. What? What on Zi had the Liger done to the Fury to elicit such fierce hatred? The Zoids had only fought what, twice?

The Fury's voice narrowed and slowed - it spoke only to Brad, and with a gentle condescension. ~He has been my enemy since before your race set foot on my world.~

Brad simply froze, struck speechless by the many disturbing implications of that statement.

~Time can slow the mind and consume the body, but pain always remains. You, so concerned with harming a handful of insects… why?~ The Fury crept closer, ruinously deeper, like an unseen bleed in the brain. ~You know you do not meet what is required of a 'good person', so why bother with the charade?~

Brad stayed silent.

~I accept you. I care for you. I am here for you. As you are.~

It hurt. He wanted to hate this thing. Be afraid of it. Be angry. Be anything. But he only found himself able to embrace it, heartsick at the thought of anything else.

Vega's eyes were unfocused, flicking with thought and unheard conversation. He frowned, his branch of conversation still on the Liger. "Bit seems fine though. I mean can't we- shouldn't we- I don't know. Help him?"

~He has made his choice.~

'He' wasn't Bit. 'He' was the Liger Zero. Just as the Fury chose his own partner, the Liger chose his. Bit's involvement was more in the realm of required casualty than intended target. But it didn't make his destruction any less inevitable and necessary. The Fury seemed to relish in the idea.

Vega gave Brad a dead-eyed look, which the man refused to return.

It was clear that no one had really been monitoring the abducted pilots, because no one noticed Brad's absence. There wasn't any doubt that the cell was secure, and the well-being of those taken wasn't really a worthwhile consideration. Vega knew this. Brad did too. It assured the actions of the former and quietly enraged the latter.

Late, dark, and silent; Vega lay deeply asleep in his bed.

Brad was not asleep, tense and uncertain, walking restlessly around the room for what seemed like hours. He wasn't quite sure how one could feel both trapped and empowered, but he did.

On the top of one small dresser Brad noticed a knife. The knife, the one in that unsettling dream. He quietly pocketed it, and continued pacing. He was still starving. He wondered if he could leave the room just to go find something to eat. But he knew where approximately nothing was, with the exception of the Berserk Fury and the cell he'd been in. The slim promise of somehow finding food didn't weigh sufficiently against the threat of being found.

He really wanted rest. He'd been able to sleep off-and-on, and he'd not had anyone chasing him down with needles for quite some time. Yet despite being tired, and trying to get comfortable in various spots on the floor, sleep now never came. Because Vega had a clock in his room, Brad knew it was well past midnight.

It was therefore very obnoxious to see Vega sleeping like the dead.

At length, Brad opened the door to Vega's room and glared silently out into the dim corridor.

~Come to me.~

Vega shot up from sleep a few minutes later, cursing and mumbling as he stumbled out of bed. He scrambled into his piloting gear and took off down the hall as quietly as he could. At a dead run it didn't take him long, but Brad was already there.

Hands in his pockets, standing in front of the Berserk Fury, Brad stood surveying the Zoid. Vega's first instinct was to yell at the man, but the Fury quietly shushed him, indicating the dark, the silence, and the now-locked hangar doors.

Vega immediately calmed, and loped to a halt beside Brad. The Fury's latent-but-rising rile made the room electric, and Vega eagerly looked up at his Zoid. He wanted- no, he yearned to climb back into its cockpit, run off and be gloriously free of this place. He glanced sidelong at Brad, suddenly envious.

~Vega, no. You understand why this must be done. But you will accompany us.~ The Berserk Fury turned its head and growled at the handful of other Zoids in the hangar. ~One of you. Serve him.~

Vega was again tempered by the Fury, and glanced. The other Zoids in the hangar had backed into dark recesses and corners, their optics and eyeglass glinting fearfully in the dark. Vega stared at them, confused. "It's cool. Come out."

The Zoids did not think it was cool. They politely informed Vega that it was very uncool, and they would prefer to stay right where they were.

~One of you will serve him or I will destroy all but one and make the decision for you.~

A single Hel Digunner crept forward submissively. The Berserk Fury gave it a scathing look, but approved.

Vega looked up at the Fury again. It was looking down at Brad, and he could tell from the man's stance and vague movements that they were having a conversation. Brown eyes narrowed.

~Vega.~

"Sorry, I just…"

The Fury gave him a rough mental nuzzle, the equivalent of a lion nuzzling a shrew - overwhelming and you weren't sure the lion wouldn't eat it. The child calmed yet again, and reluctantly climbed into the Hel Digunner.

Layon was fast asleep on the workbench, the day's trash piled around him, a variety of tools and half-built pieces shoved to one side. The Shadow Fox stood, nearby and massive in the small space, its eyeglass dark.

Audio sensors twinged. Eyeglass brightened slowly from red, to amber, to gold.

The Berserk Fury's shrieking roar pierced the base.

Layon startled awake and looked around blearily, finally summoning enough sense to check his watch. Why the hell would-

He watched the Fox cower and try to move further from the door, and looked up at a monitor of the adjacent hangar which showed many other panicked Zoids behaving similarly. Layon's stomach dropped as he felt the Berserk Fury's weight thundering through the ground, the night's dead silence forcing sound and sensation into unwelcome, nightmarish highlight.

There was no way this was anything like what Sara had been discussing. But he had a gut feeling that what Sara wanted didn't matter anymore.

There would be no alarms. There would be no fighting. No Zoid would disobey the King and his monsters. And human whim without a Zoid could be safely disregarded. Layon watched a few soldiers show up in confusion then retreat, clearly at a loss.

He switched a monitor to view several of the infrared external cameras. In a painfully casual way, the Berserk Fury strolled out of the main hangar's exit corridor, a Hel Digunner beside it. The Fury stretched, oriented itself, then the two took off quickly - in the direction Layon very well knew the Blitz Team base was.

Layon's eyes flicked with brief thought and stopped on the Fox.

It looked back at him quizzically.

Chapter Text

The midday sun had faded, but its warmth still wrinkled the horizon as the day crept onward towards its close. Bit lounged in the shadow of the hangar, the vague breeze tousling his hair. He'd just finished the afternoon's routines, had a light dinner, and sat enjoying the quiet. He glanced lazily at the Liger, which was gazing out into the distance. He yawned.

Half-dozing, he sat up only slightly to register a smudge of motion in the distance.

It quickly became recognizable - a unique, bounding leap. The Shadow Fox, approaching at a dead run.

Bit startled, shot up, and took a breath to shout with. But the Liger curbed him with the mental equivalent of an arm thrown across his chest.

~That is not Brad.~

"What are you talking about? That's the Shadow Fox!"

~Layon is its pilot.~

Bit tilted his head, but as soon as the Fox was in direct transmission range, the videlink came in. Frantic.

"TOROS! GET OUT OF THE BASE! ALL OF YOU! BIT CLOUD! R-"

Something tangibly changed in the air. The transmission cut out with interference and-

~BIT!~

A fraction of a second later, the leading beam of a charged particle cannon sliced neatly through the hangar. Followed by the pressure-wave and rest of the beam, obliterating a gaping tunnel through the hangar, part of the base, and the entire side of the parked Hover Cargo. The Liger near-instantly snapped Bit up in its jaws and ducked away.

The Berserk Fury crested the canyon rise in the distance, smoke filtering from closing jaws. By seeming luck alone no one had been in the actual path of the CPG.

This fortune caused chaos, however: everyone bolted to the hangar for their Zoids from every-which-way in the fractured base, correctly assessing they were somehow under attack but incorrectly assessing the scale of the problem.

Despite the acrid sting of ozone, there wasn't any hesitation. Bewildered, Bit hurried to scramble out from between the Liger's teeth and into its cockpit: they both immediately charged out at the Fury with laser claws blazing. The blonde's voice tried for anger but was really just terrified:

"Vega, what the hell-"

He expected the Fury to stay still. In retrospect he wasn't sure why, but both he and the Liger weren't expecting their charge to be met with such violence. The Fury streaked forward with a full-body uppercut, a move Bit should've been wise to but he didn't think-

Bit could feel a sharp emotional rise from the Liger, bafflement - and thought it was the Zoid's response to the attack. He quickly parsed otherwise: the Liger's concerned tone shook him deeply. ~Bit. That is not Vega. That is Brad.~

"Brad?" That didn't make sense. At all. Bit more-or-less refused to process it until he slammed the command for a videscreen channel. "Vega-"

And it certainly was Brad. Though he didn't look right at all. Blue eyes flicked to the open videscreen - and the mix of elation and terror etched into the man's expression was the single most disturbing thing Bit had ever seen. Brad terminated the connection with a single, dismissive flick.

Bit immediately wheeled to a better vantage, the Liger crouching to survey the situation. The blonde couldn't help but recall the confusion he'd experienced when Brad showed up in the Shadow Fox, ready to fight. That was clearly a more friendly situation, though. This…?

"Bit," It was Layon's voice, dire. A videscreen popped up to one side with the man's helmeted face on it. "Listen to me. They're trying to kill you. This isn't a friendly match. Don't hold back!"

Kill? A jarring statement. Bit and the Liger both swung their head to glance at the hollowed-out hangar. It was clear this wasn't friendly by any stretch of the imagination. But… kill? "Layon, what's going on?!"

Layon looked helpless. "I don't- I can't explain right now. Stop them, if you can!" The Shadow Fox promptly retreated from view with a bound and kicked-up plume of sand.

Naomi's Gun Sniper twisted curiously, watching the Fox, but she'd seen and heard Layon's transmission from within. The red Blade Liger came up alongside her, the two Zoids glanced at each other, then everyone looked at the Fury with confusion.

Naomi: "What the hell is…"

Leon: "Why is he piloting the Berserk Fury?"

"Brad!" They both tried contacting the wayward Warrior to no avail.

The Fury charged again with no warning, jaws crushing air where the Liger's head had been a half-second before. In a single, fluid motion the Liger landed in a crouch and sprung into the side of the saurian Zoid, knocking the Fury off-balance and pivoting it on a haunch. The Fury recovered immediately and slammed right back into the Liger.

Armor and structure screeched indistinctly as bodies collided, claws and teeth lashing out, grasping for purchase. Bit swore under his breath and watched the Berserk Fury's movements, wild-eyed. He wasn't really even ready for battle, but had no choice but to engage.

The immediate intensity brought him back to the Royal Cup's vicious fight. The tension he felt now wasn't pinned on victory or loss, however. Instead on confusion, horror - he truly didn't understand what was happening. Once in his junk-dealing days while snatching up scrap from a battlefield, an angry pilot had pulled a gun on him. It was his only real frame of reference for these feelings, and these were infinitely worse.

The cockpit shook hard and Bit's head painfully slammed the restraint bar as his world went forward, then sideways. The Liger and Berserk Fury locked into a vicious tangle, bodies tumbling as neither relinquished what holds they'd managed.

The Liger's teeth were firmly locked around one hind leg of the Fury's, one blazing foreclaw outstretched to keep the thrashing tail at bay. The Fury's jaws were likewise sunk into the armor of the Liger's flank, the Liger's own hindclaws pressed taut against the Fury's chest. Metal screamed with strain.

Bit glanced at the severely-damaged Hover Cargo, realizing that even if he could get away from this mess, he'd be unable to exchange for any perhaps-more-suitable armors. The Panzer seemed ideal for outright protection and meaningful firepower: the knowledge that a charged particle weapon was in conscious possession of ill-meaning opposition was more than a little terrifying. He wanted bigger guns.

But there would be no Panzer today. There would be no escape at all from severe damage to existing armor. This became a new and keen source of distress as the Fury finally sheared all the way through the armor on the Liger's side, tugging the plate of it off like so much skin.

As jaws ripped away and lost their bodily hold, the Liger took that moment to release the Fury's leg and kick aside, lurching towards brief freedom in the hopes of somehow better tackling the situation.

Bit was abruptly reminded he wasn't alone in this, as the red blur of Leon's Blade Liger cut past, seizing the opportunity of the two Zoids' separation. The red Liger's namesake blades were out and charged; the Fury stepped smoothly back and caught the slashing attempt with a parrying buster claw.

Glowing blade did no real damage to gleaming claw. The Fury simply used the Blade Liger's own momentum to shove it aside. It didn't seem to care about, nor did it even glance after, the Blade Liger. Its attention stayed on the Liger Zero.

Leon recovered swiftly and spun back. He and Bit exchanged glances on the videscreen - Leon nodded upwards, unspoken indication of a plan.

The crack from above was familiar, but Bit startled - he wasn't expecting it. The red Gun Sniper's shot was true as always, smoke and shrapnel pluming from where the sniper bullet had struck the Berserk Fury's side.

The Berserk Fury turned and inclined its head towards the Gun Sniper. Naomi looked between her scope and readouts several times, concern rising. Had she missed?

The shot would've easily downed a lesser Zoid, and should have made even the Fury flinch. But it was clear that nothing vital had been hit, or hit hard enough, because the beast simply didn't seem to care.

Or, it did care, but not in the way anyone would've hoped. The Berserk Fury bunched its haunches and launched into a leap, aided by boosters - slamming into a perch on the compromised hangar's roof beside the Sniper. The Gun Sniper's interference was apparently much less welcome than the Blade Liger's - or viewed as much more of a threat. The Fury's jaws gaped, and it crouched-

The Raynos slashed by, powerfully strafing the Fury and knocking its strike off balance. Without the Hover Cargo it'd taken more work to get the Raynos airborne, but Jaime knew that an aerial Zoid would be indispensable in this mess. And he was right.

The Berserk Fury tracked the Raynos just long enough for Naomi to disengage the Sniper and leap away. She boosted hard to the ground and bolted, giving Jaime a nervous salute of thanks.

The Fury glanced back and Brad's teeth bared in an angry sigh, the human face of the Zoid's irritation. It was only here for the Liger Zero, yet all of these meddling pissants -

No, no. These were his friends, teammates, lover - all people he very, very distinctly did not wish any ill upon. "Leave them out of this."

The Fury's attention seared into the cockpit. ~We will destroy the Liger, and anyone in the way of that pursuit.~ The Zoid hissed, dragging Brad's profound and unfortunate surrender to the fore: the man did want this power, he did want this control. Desperately so.

But he was tired: not just physically, but mentally. The Berserk Fury possessed no temperance and was quick to bleed pilots dry, not unlike what'd happened to Vega in the Royal Cup. Hands trembled on controls and Brad started to black out.

~No.~ He felt the Fury's smothering grip tighten. Every wrong ever inflicted upon the man came together, distilled into a single moment of rage - and weakness. It was by this soft throat the Fury seized him again. Painful didn't even touch the description of what he felt. His entire life made into a single, asphyxiating mouthful to sate the needs of an ancient, amoral beast whose fight could not be won… without help.

There was really no use in resisting it anymore. He didn't want to anyways; he'd never really wanted to. This was his to claim, always had been, and always would be. He felt pain, concern, everything, simply melt away - replaced by pure, raw, glorious power .

The Berserk Fury shrieked wildly.

Vega wanted to be closer. Much closer. But the Fury had given the Hel Digunner very death-threat-filled instructions to stay far away. Vega glared at the small consoles in the Zoid, watching eagerly, anxiously as he saw the Fury stalk closer to the base.

His pulse raced, his pupils constricted, he started to sweat. He still wasn't able to escape the Fury's boundless rile, even though he could tell that the Zoid was fully distracted by Brad. This only piled on anger of his own - he wanted to pilot the Fury to victory. This simply wasn't fair.

The distant crack of the CPG quickly made things much more real.

Some part of his mind registered concern. It was violently overruled.

His eyes scoured the consoles. Had the Liger-?

No, it showed up on the readouts. The child briefly worried he was still too close to the Fury mentally, that this wasn't going to work, that there may have been serious danger and this could all-too-easily become the Royal Cup's failures again…

Vega gasped as if he'd been thrown into icewater, as he felt the two Zoids powerfully collide. Clash. Rip into each other. After which point he was too rapt to care. The Fury's vicious love of combat was exquisite, divine - if Vega couldn't be directly involved, this was certainly the next best thing.

The Hel Digunner shifted with a growl, not really liking any of this but staying put. It was pinged by another Backdraft Zoid and answered uneasily, unsure of the Fury's directives on the matter - and far too scared to ask. It wasn't as if the Berserk Fury would've deigned to respond anyway.

"Vega!" It was Sara. "What do y- " But she stopped, realizing by the far-off look in his eyes that he'd likely not had much input in this chain of events.

Damn Alteil and damn that Zoid and damn her every poor decision that'd led her to let Vega anywhere near the damn thing-

"Sorry, he wanted to leave." Vega clearly wasn't sorry, he wasn't anything besides drenched in sweat and grinning with twisted glee. "This is fun."

Sara and a small group of other Backdraft units - Helcats, Gun Snipers, a Redler and a Hammerhead - arrived near Vega's Zoid shortly afterward, the soldiers and pilots scrambling to set up a makeshift transmission array. Without Satellites, it was the best they could do: this battle had been promised to the Committee, who in turn had promised it to the Elite. Under the looming threat of further disgrace and feeling pressured to make "use" of the resource-heavy Fury, Sara had to deliver - albeit more abruptly and unexpectedly than she would've liked.

The woman scowled at the narrowly-controlled chaos of the scene. Backdraft without in-service Whale Kings and Satellites was not her cup of tea, and this granular level of command was far below her. Her hair snapped in the desert breeze, disdain flaring at having to bend to the will of the Committee.

Her gaze softened as she walked towards Vega's Zoid. She helped her son up out of the Hel Digunner's cockpit and brought him to the cold shade of the Hammerhead she'd arrived in. The Digunner seemed conflicted and gave a rumble of protest, but was intimidated into silence by the glare Sara shot it.

The child sat sprawled in the sand, barely-there eyes darting at unseen combat. Sara watched him to make sure he was steady before she returned to overseeing the area.

After a few moments Vega's arms went protectively taut around his torso, and he leaned as if in pain. Mirrored experiences that none of them could see at this distance, but-

Focus returned to brown eyes. Vega's posture changed substantially; he scrambled to stand and glared off into the distance, clearly cut out, clearly incensed. "FURY!"

It'd only been several seconds.

Leon and Bit were trying to formulate some kind of plan when the Fury smashed back down between them, shattering the concrete. The massive Zoid recovered gracefully and stared down the Liger, its utter disregard of the Blade Liger clear.

"Brad…" Bit said, to an empty videscreen. "Talk to me, dude. What's going on?"

"Brad!" Leon was more angry - because he was more afraid. "What-"

"Not here for you, Leon. Only them. Stand down."

"You know I can't do that."

No response. The Fury simply lunged back into the Liger Zero, boosters flaring as it shoved the white cat Zoid back. The Liger's claws left furrows in the concrete until losing their grip on the ground; it pressured back with a flare of its own boosters. They slammed the few feet back down, deeply gouging rock before the earlier, gnashing tangle was repeated.

It was incredibly violent; Bit fought against deep horror. Mainly because the Fury's jaws kept crashing shut inches from the cockpit on either side, with only the Liger's quick reflexes staving off literal instant death.

"C'mon. Hold still. I'll make it quick."

Bit blinked several times at how casual the request was. "N-no thanks!"

"Nothing personal, Bit." The two Zoids circled tightly and slammed into each other, broadside. "But you're making this really difficult."

"I like living!" The blonde screamed.

"Eh," Was the reply. That wasn't terrifying or anything.

The Fury tried to push the Liger over but the feline hunkered down, spinning to face the Fury's hindquarters and snapping at an ankle. The response was a vicious swing of heavy tail, which nearly took off one of the Liger's boosters.

~I don't know what to do!~ The Liger cried out. Besides what it was doing - pressing close and not letting up, snapping at limbs, trying to break a few key servos and joints to disable something, anything-

That honestly terrified Bit the most. He didn't know what to do. The Liger didn't know what to do. Nobody did.

It happened. The Liger swung back the wrong way and the Fury's teeth finally caught its head. The Berserk Fury bit down for purchase, but had to shift for a better angle to bite down with. In that narrow window Bit and the Liger bucked back with all their might - and the tenuous grip was lost, at the cost of deep gouges. The cockpit glass webbed on one side but stayed intact, the omni-readout flickering with serious damage.

"Bit!" The others cried out.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" He absolutely was not fine, his heart was in his throat and he was fighting the Fury, the Liger's angry bewilderment, gravity and an unmet need to scream. Bit wouldn't openly admit to it, but Brad was one of few pilots he thought might be able to beat him in a 1v1. That thought wasn't really helping right now.

~We cannot fight them this way, Bit! You are frightened and I cannot-~

"Wild Weasel Unit Total Assault!" Steve Toros yelled, unleashing a ridiculous arsenal on the Berserk Fury.

In idle response, the Fury had splayed a buster claw and deployed a shield. As if nothing had happened, it turned its head and snarled through the clearing smoke, shifting to stroll towards the Gun Sniper with intent. "Pretty sure you still owe me, Doc."

That simple sentence was somehow petrifying coming out of the casually approaching Berserk Fury. It snapped up its other buster claw and fired unflinchingly at the Sniper-'s head, Leon's Blade Liger lurching into the way with its own shields deployed.

"Get somewhere safe, Steve!" Leon reprimanded his father, watching the Berserk Fury continue to approach. "This-"

"Take your own damn advice, Leon." The Berserk Fury's tail-vents flared but it didn't lock down, building just enough of a particle-charge in its mouth to spit a mean explosive. The Blade Liger's shield took most of the hit, but the pressure still roughly shoved the Zoid back.

"Brad!" It was Naomi again - angry, frightened. "Where've you been? Why the fuck are you piloting that? What-"

"Babe," He cut her off. "I'm really sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, just stop!"

"Can't. Really can't." There was an uneasy hesitation. "Get out of here."

Leon frowned at the dissonance - actions versus what he knew was genuine conflict in Brad's voice. "We're not going to let you hurt anyone. Bit or the Liger included."

No response but a deeply irritated sigh.

Naomi made several firm, silent hand-signals to Leon on their videscreen. He glanced, did a double-take, but nodded. Then he looked at the Liger Zero, debating how on Zi to communicate this plan to Bit.

The Fury bunched its haunches and leapt. It was as if it was prescient of the Liger's movement; fractions of a second later the Liger slashed past where the Fury had been . The Liger's charged laser claws screamed against concrete, as the Zoid twisted to again face the-

Fury. It seized the Liger's lower jaw and shoved the whole Zoid backwards into the ground. The Fury bit down hard, and though not at a crushing angle, its teeth sank into the Liger's face, cracking facial-flange armor and structure. The point of one massive, serrated metal fang appeared in the cockpit floorboard, the rest sinking into console components unseen - the edge nicked Bit's sharply-lifted calf and ankle. He yelped, and no sooner had he registered the strike, the Liger had ripped them both free.

The massive surge of pain and the sight of blood rapidly soaking his pant-leg woke Bit up. He had to stop being afraid and do something.

~Yes! We are strong! We have defeated the Fury before and we will do so again!~

~No. You will not.~

The second voice, deep and threatening, was new to Bit. He reflexively glanced up at the Fury, which now stood regarding them coldly. Bit's throat worked anxiously but he steeled himself. Fear wouldn't help him. Determination would.

~Why have you forsaken Vega?~ The Liger asked.

~I have not. Vega is perfect.~

"Then why the fuck is Brad piloting?"

"Because I felt like it. "

~You cannot have two partners.~

~One partner. One pilot. And no more of YOU~ The Berserk Fury screamed and lunged forth.

Around the back of the base, Leena's retreating Gun Sniper - piloted by Steve - came face-to-face with the Shadow Fox. The Fox regarded the Gun Sniper's many weapons.

"Layon."

"Steve."

Toros's fear-lined face creased slightly more with anger. "What have you done?"

"I don't know what y-"

"Stop it." The man's trembling tone held no patience. "Everyone in my home could have just died. You're lucky no one was hurt or I'd have your head." The stabilizers on the Gun Sniper's head pinned; it was confused by its pilot's very-truly-murderous ire versus his inaction. "But to make matters worse, you show up piloting a Zoid that not only isn't yours, it belongs to someone who's been missing, and we've been worried about and looking for, for weeks. And somehow, that someone is in a Backdraft Zoid. Again. And here you are. Again."

"This wasn't my idea, Steve! I came to warn you-"

"You went back to the Backdraft. You're an idiot."

"I'm a broke idiot." Layon said matter-of-factly.

"You have 30 seconds to explain what's going on."

"Or what?"

Toros said nothing; the Wild Weasel Unit simply shifted, arming.

"...you make a compelling point. However," And Layon braced the Fox, its gatling pointing straight at the Sniper.

The Liger Zero dodged the Fury's strike yet again, whole body twisting aside.

Bit struggled to stay focused, muscles starting to keen with exertion. Battles were usually quick clashes: he'd no idea how long this all had dragged on, but he was getting very, very tired. Sweat soaked his shirt and streamed down his temples, dripping onto the floor as he dipped his head in exhaustion.

The wound on his leg had stopped bleeding, but blood was still everywhere he could see. Bit stared for a split-second into the gash in the floorboard. Damaged wire sparked, and metallic Zoid blood oozed from small, severed conduits.

The blonde looked back up.

"Come on, Bit. This ain't ending any other way."

"Dude, I'm not going t-"

The Fury was immediately upon them again.

"COME ON!"

Chapter Text

To make a short story even shorter, Layon didn't give in or offer any explanation. The two grown men made growling sounds at each other for 30+ seconds, then tried to shoot at each other with their giant robots.

However, the Fox didn't fire, and neither did the Gun Sniper.

[Dr. Layon. There is: no need. For this._ ]

"There's plenty of need for it! Shoot his stupid a-"

[The Gun Sniper. Does not: want to fire at. This range._ ]

"Do I care what-"

[This isn't: a battle. Human arguments. Should not: be solved. This way._]

A bizarrely profound statement to come from such a young Zoid.

Layon didn't want to agree, but there wasn't much else he could do. He huffed, watching Toros similarly deal with the reluctant Gun Sniper. At least he was confident the other man wasn't having a conversation with it.

"My stupid Zoid told your stupid Zoid we shouldn't fight." Layon muttered.

Toros blinked. "I- what?"

"I made a really smart AI Zoid, and it's better than anything you've ever done. And it's a pacifist or something."

The Fox raised and cocked its gatling to point straight at the cockpit, reflecting an unamused, lifted brow at the man.

Layon sighed again, really needing a drink. "Okay, I'm a liar. It thinks we shouldn't solve arguments this way. And knows this isn't a proper battle." He shrugged, more for the Fox's benefit. "Zoids have real strong opinions about battling. Who'd have thought."

Placated, the Fox returned to a neutral stance and looked at Steve and the Gun Sniper with softly-glowing eyeglass. Toros regarded it in return - and it loudly chuffed at him.

Layon squinted. He read the Fox's output, looked confused, then smirked. "It wants you to know it still thinks you're a big dumbass for the Buster Cannon."

Despite himself, Toros grinned a little.

Layon's smirk dropped abruptly. He shook his head, remembering why he was actually here. "Steve, listen. The Berserk Fury ah… went a little insane after the Royal Cup. Things went real, real south. Brad was picked up by Backdraft and forced to pilot it. And it? It apparently really, really wants the Liger Zero dead."

"Ah, mhm." Toros nodded as if this made sense. "Questions: where's Vega Obscura, why does anyone want anyone to pilot an insane Zoid, and what the fuck is wrong with you, going back to the Backdraft?! "

Layon scrunched in the cockpit. Even the Fox shrank back slightly.

"...complicated."

Toros sighed angrily at the man. "Tell me later. How do we stop the Berserk Fury?"

Leon and his Blade Liger kept darting, snapping, trying to break into the Liger Zero and Berserk Fury's relentless tangle. But both Brad and the Fury were wise to this desire - and the opening never came.

No one wanted to watch the Berserk Fury progressively beat down the Liger Zero, but that's exactly what they were witnessing. Leon watched Bit grow increasingly exhausted, watched green eyes darting for solutions that weren't there. Leon was so used to Bit or the Liger always coming up with some uncanny way around problems, that he simply wasn't dealing with the sickening reality: that wasn't happening.

"Leon, we can't keep waiting! Jaime!" Naomi yelled.

Jaime flinched from above but dove with precision at the mess, lighting up the ground with laser-vulcan fire in a vicious line. It sliced up and across the Berserk Fury, the explosive force shoving the two Ultimate X's apart. With no hesitation the Fury whipped a Buster Claw to bear, taking quick aim for the Raynos, but the waiting Blade Liger tore into the arm of the mechanism from behind.

A pouncing gnash of fangs and foreclaws: the Blade Liger threw its full weight forward and shoved the Fury down hard. Leon's angling and leverage were accurate, swift - he quickly tore off the Buster Claw and threw it aside, glancing up-

The Berserk Fury rolled and twisted with great strength, much greater than what seemed possible with it on the ground. Crack - a split second too late, a sniper bullet struck the ground and sprayed sand across the Berserk Fury's shoulder, having narrowly missed its target.

"Fuck!" Naomi snapped.

As the Fury moved, the red Liger stumbled from its temporary vantage. The Fury seized one of the Blade Liger's forelimbs and wrenched the red Liger forward, flipping it. The complete inversion and sharp slam left Leon momentarily senseless, his awareness snapped back by the deafening scream of metal on metal - and glass.

Leon looked up, only to see the dark, cavernous inner workings of the Berserk Fury's jaws.

The thing's massive teeth, deceptively flat from this angle, dragged with a squeal on the cockpit. The groans of creaking metal and pressured glass turned to shrieks as the glass started to split.

"BRAD!" Leon screamed.

Leon's terrified voice brought fleeting focus to blue eyes. Brad's grip on the controls faltered; the Berserk Fury paused, for a split-second.

The Liger Zero reappeared with a primal roar, flying straight at the Berserk Fury with gaped jaws and a charged laser-claw. Despite appearances it wasn't reckless in the slightest: Bit's twitch reflexes and the Liger's ability for precision was crucial to tearing the Fury away from the Blade Liger without further damage to the latter.

The two Zoids spun a wild full 180 with the impact, bucked apart and came to a halt.

The Liger had ripped off a panel of the Fury's facial-flange armor; it held onto the piece for a moment, then pointedly spat it on the ground. The Fury turned its head and assessed this quietly.

Then it began to laugh. A soft, deep, disturbed sound. ~Oh. Good. Are you ready to fight now?~

A cold line of sweat traced down Bit's face and neck. The Berserk Fury's voice carried a clear message: it didn't think much of what had already been a grueling span of combat. Bit struggled against serious horror, pulse pounding in his ears.

That was the other thing; the Fury's voice was so frigid, so horrible compared to the Liger's. The sound alone was the simple, dread purr of a predator from which prey instinctively knew to flee. Yet Bit couldn't help but feel sorrow for Vega - and Brad - if that thing was anywhere near as close to them as the Liger was to him. He couldn't imagine being unable to escape it.

The Liger's grim acknowledgment only deepened his sympathy.

Bit glanced. "Liger. Where's Vega?"

He felt the Zoid's senses flare, and got the strong impression Vega was nearby. Not close - but not far away.

"Can we- can he get it to stop? Can-"

"No." Brad replied through the comms. Apparently the exchange wasn't as private as the two would've liked. "Vega wants you dead, homeboy. Because the Berserk Fury does. And the Fury gets what it wants."

"So you say." Bit warily replied, eyeing the consoles. "What do you want?"

There wasn't an answer.

Bit forced a videscreen. Brad looked at it with a slow blink, chest heaving, every line of his face and body reading with the same exhaustion Bit felt. But when they made eye contact, Brad immediately broke it.

"Doesn't matter, Bit."

"It does! You have a choice in this. You can put a stop to it!"

"I can't."

"Brad-"

"Bit. Listen to me. I. Can't."

The Fury began advancing in a stalk, calculated and slow. The Liger backed up a step. Far more desperation bled into Bit's voice than he wanted to. "Please, don't do this."

"One of us is gonna bite it. Ain't gonna be me."

"Dude, whatever it's told you, the Berserk Fury's lying. Seriously, this is crazy! Nobody here wants to hurt you! Nobody's going to die!"

The Fury studied the Liger carefully for weaknesses during the pause as the two men conversed. The agitated Liger returned the scrutiny.

~Why are you doing this? If it is combat you seek-~

~You are what ails us. You have hurt Vega. You will die.~ The saurian said, very simply.

~What happened to Vega? Please, bring him here. I had no intention o-~

The Fury moved with a speed and ferocity it shouldn't have been able to. It slashed at its feline opponent with its remaining Buster Claw, then whirled with a merciless countering tail-slam as the Liger evaded the initial slash. The tail smashed, broadside and hard into the Liger Zero - and the Liger was thrown, rolling several times before coming to rest a short distance off.

The Berserk Fury's eyeglass blazed.

~Silence. I no longer permit you to even speak his name. Filth.~

The Liger winced against a world of pain, trying to shield Bit from the worst of it. But it couldn't do much about the blonde being relentlessly bashed around in the cockpit. Bit held a hand to his throbbing skull.

The Liger steeled him. Brought his eyes up again and into focus. The blonde took a deep breath and glared at the videscreen, struggling to keep his voice level.

"Why does the Berserk Fury want this?!"

No response. The Fury charged again, affording the grounded pair little time to react. The Liger lurched to one side to keep the Fury's jaws away from its head, but said jaws sank into the feline Zoid's neck instead. The Fury pushed the Liger to one side and started shaking it violently.

Bit scrambled to get out of the grip but could not. After several sharp jolts he was barely holding onto consciousness; another few knocked him out cold. He hung limply backwards in the harness, blood from his nose streaking across his face.

Several people screamed at once for Bit to wake up. He didn't.

The Liger shrieked, outraged, itself momentarily stunned and recoiling from the blonde's painful drop. The Fury tasted the break in consciousness and stopped the shaking, carefully shifting its hold for a crushing coup de grace - of the Liger's pilot, at least. It'd be so much simpler to deal with the Liger, then-

Harsh contact, sharp pain and a sensation of shearing.

The Berserk Fury looked down at the hilt of the Blade Liger's blade, then up at the adjacent red Liger.

The entire white-hot blade was sunk into the Fury itself - the Blade Liger mightily hefted the saurian Zoid away from the Liger Zero and shoved it several body-lengths back.

The Fury angrily swung head, tail, and gaping jaws at the Blade Liger, but Leon paradoxically pressed in close, too close to be effectively struck. The Blade Liger sunk a powerful bite into the Fury's side, fangs plunging through armor and structure.

Brad trembled with barely-contained rage then exploded with a scream, mirroring the Fury's vicious sentiment as it roared and repeatedly gnashed fangs at the too-close Blade Liger's haunch and tail. Internal components overheated, snapped, and were otherwise compromised by the Liger's searing blade, which remained firmly planted. Silver Zoid blood gouted from both entry and exit wounds, betraying severe damage.

Yet the Fury didn't seem to register it as much more than mild inconvenience. It hiked up a hindtalon and slammed it onto the blade's connection to the red Liger, bearing down - bending then fracturing the entire assembly. This left the actual blade lodged in the Berserk Fury but detached the Blade Liger, which stumbled forward a few surprised steps.

WIth no delay the saurian lashed its remaining Buster Claw straight at the red Liger's head, only to have it meet the shield and skip off with a sparking shriek.

Anyone watching Leon would've noticed he hadn't stopped uncontrollably shaking at any point. He just didn't look terrified anymore. Instead, determined.

The Fury regarded the shielded Liger for a silent, empty moment.

Then looked back towards the Liger Zero.

Crack. Another sudden sniper shot.

Delicate components just behind the Berserk Fury's jaw joint were simply blown apart, shiny flecks in the wake of the bullet's penetrating explosion.

Naomi gasped a breath she'd been holding, silently glaring through her scope.

The specific shot she'd been after was both risky and precise by necessity. It'd never be permitted on a Judge-monitored battlefield because of target proximity to the cockpit. But high neck-shots on Zoids were nearly guaranteed to sever the crucial conduit between cockpit and Core, invariably resulting in a CSF.

That is, if the shot pierced structure. Heavily-armored assault Zoids had very thick armor on or around their necks for precisely this reason. It was nearly impossible to hit vulnerable areas unless the Zoid's neck was twisted at an extreme angle - or it was relatively still.

Or both, as was the case here.

The Berserk Fury staggered forward with a shriek, struggling to stay upright. There was literally a hole through its neck, conduit and wire dangling, more silver blood pouring in thin ribbons from around the now-visible CPG architecture. Yet still the monster stood, steadying itself.

The shot had done exactly what it was intended to do: the cockpit had gone dark, the consoles, featureless. But the whine of a command system freeze didn't come.

Naomi stared in silence, at a loss.

Bit wearily came to. What roused him was a rumble of laughter: a cruel trickle of sound from the Fury that he had the displeasure of being able to hear. He blearily glanced at it as the Liger Zero righted itself.

The Berserk Fury shuddered, beginning to encounter physical limitations. It was bleeding out and drive components were trying to seize up.

Yet still the monster stood.

"This is over." Leon said firmly. "Surrender."

Brad was also laughing, but his voice was thin with stress. "No. You can't stop us. And you won't."

Leon dropped his shield and readied his remaining blade. Bit spit blood, wiped his forehead on his shoulder, and readied to charge with laser claws.

The Fury kept laughing. ~I do not think you understand. Victory is not an option for y-~

"No no NO NO NO NO! " Layon squealed as the Shadow Fox was immediately upon the Fury. From nowhere the Fox pitched straight into the thing's face with its laser claws, momentum and surprise shoving the Berserk Fury off of its feet and backwards several meters.

On its back, the Berserk Fury thrashed and snapped up at the flighty Fox, snagging a fleeting hindlimb as it blurred overhead. The Fury didn't let the Fox land neatly, whipping it hard into the ground - but the smaller Zoid recovered quickly, scrambled for purchase, and twisted free.

It immediately spun and started unloading with the laser-vulcan gun, joined quickly by the Gun Sniper LT similarly carpeting it with fire. Leon glanced in surprise but began gunning as well, the Berserk Fury disappearing behind a curtain of smoke and grit.

As the haze cleared, the saurian lay shuddering on its side, looking all the worse for wear. Its eyeglass was a dim but furious red.

The Liger stepped quietly forward and looked down.

The Berserk Fury still laughed softly, the sand around it soaked with its gleaming blood.

Bit firmly placed the Liger's charged claws on the Fury's neck. "You've lost. Please. Stop."

He could hear both the Fury and Brad chuckling now, in tandem. It was really quite disturbing.

"You don't get it, man."

"Nobody's dying today." Bit said through his teeth. "Just get out of the Zoid. We'll take care of it."

The chuckle became painful, almost a laughed sob. "You don't get it."

Crack. A sniper bullet struck the Liger Zero, causing it to stumble to the ground.

Chapter Text

The blow was sudden and severe. The shot wasn't sufficiently on-target to take the Liger offline, but came dangerously close.

Bit nearly blacked out again, nerves echoing the excruciating sting of the Zoid being struck. He could really do without this part of being in touch with the Liger.

As everyone else's heads snapped around trying to make sense of the unexpected attack, the Shadow Fox decisively wheeled and discharged smoke, bounding into obscurity. A half-second later, another crack , but it hit nothing.

"Backdraft! " Layon yelled in warning.

"Shit," Naomi hissed, shifting her scope to scan the direction the shots had originated. She'd not even considered that the Berserk Fury's presence could have indicated Backdraft's involvement - and that it meant there could be even more units at the far reaches of the area. Naomi fought uncharacteristic panic as her mind flooded with thoughts of the nighttime ambush. "Jaime, shots from due west. Get me a terrain scan!"

"Already on it!"

The Fury's angular head surfaced from the curling smoke, the damaged Zoid clearly having regained its footing.

Vega had been pacing, but his head snapped in the direction of the Blitz base. They were too far away to see what was happening from their vantage point - but he started to shake his head, suddenly breathless. He ran up to a soldier.

"What are they doing? Don't interrupt the fight."

"The Fury's surrounded. This is as good as over if we don't intervene. We'll just take down the Liger and..."

Vega's increasing pallor made the soldier trail off. The child just sneered with disgust and started to bolt, but paused. He ran back to find Sara, seized her wrist, and began to drag her.

"Vega," She scolded with surprise, and tried to pull away. For being such a small child, his grip was intense, and his eyes were wild.

"Sara please"

"Vega," Resistance.

"Sara-"

The woman ripped her wrist out of his grasp and scowled. 

"Mom!" Vega screamed at her, ratcheting straight to hysterical and seizing her arm again. He whistled and several Zoids turned their heads. The child swiftly beckoned a nearby Helcat and ran to it, still dragging Sara. She'd stopped resisting after a point and started running with him, now alarmed at his urging. "Go go go get in get in! "

Some of the other Backdraft soldiers took pause, seeing Vega's blind panic. They glanced at each other, unsure. Vega clambered into the small Helcat cockpit and sat on Sara's lap, his gaze unfocused and movements barely managing coordination as he directed the Zoid to run.

Sara could feel Vega's whole body shaking. It felt like anger but looked like terror. What-

They'd barely cleared the area before they both perceived the characteristic air-pressure drop - then deafening roar - of a charged particle beam. Seconds later came the pressure-wave, which bowled the Helcat forward and shoved the two every-which-way, given neither were secured in the seat.

Sara regained her bearings after a few seconds, grabbing Vega tightly as he'd managed to keep a hold on the controls. The stunned Helcat turned to regard the wide glassy scar in the sand, where the entire group had been with equipment only moments prior.

The equipment was gone. As were the people, and a number of Zoids. Some Zoids, wisely acting on Vega's panic, had scattered far enough away to avoid the blast. They were cowering with bewilderment.

Vega barely registered the scene. Sara could tell from his empty stare and flicking eyes that he was talking to the Fury. When his focus did return, Sara saw by the set of Vega's jaw that it wasn't her son.

"Ridiculous. Do not interfere." The Fury said through Vega's clenched teeth.

Naomi gasped in shock over the comms. "Jaime…"

Jaime stared at his readouts incredulously. In addition to the two Gun Snipers to the west, there had been - had been - another small group of Zoids and people, presumably also Backdraft units. They were far to the northwest of the base, far beyond easy notice. Jaime had only just become aware of them, scanning the direction he'd watched the Fury turn. He was having difficulty processing what the sudden and complete lack of data now meant.

The two Backdraft Gun Snipers and their pilots were clearly stunned. Not directly, but because everyone they'd been taking orders from seconds ago had simply been obliterated.

The Berserk Fury disengaged its maglocks, shifted unsteadily, and glanced through the thinning smoke in the direction of the Snipers. Both were retreating.

"You selfish idiot." Brad said quietly, looking back at the Liger. The Fury's glowing red eyeglass leered through the haze. "How many more people are gonna have to die for you today, Bit?"

Bit glanced between videscreens blankly, himself trying to grasp the information Jaime fed through. He looked up at the Berserk Fury, mortified. Both at the fact that it had somehow managed to stand again, and at what had just happened.

"Brad… come on man. Get it to stop."

"Not an answer."

"That was like a dozen people." Bit's voice quivered, upset.

The response was a scream; frantic, enraged. "You think I don't know? You think I'm fucking joking?! This is your fault!"

"Brad." It was Leon, and the Blade Liger stepped warily in beside the Liger. It was joined nearby by Steve in the Gun Sniper LT, with Jaime's Raynos back-winging to perch on the hangar's ledge, and Naomi's Gun Sniper watching carefully from the distance.

Silence.

Blue eyes swept the group, then closed.

They opened again, lost to the Zoid. "Guess the answer's ALL OF YOU!"

Vents still hot flared again, the Fury's jaws parting with a bright and violently charging orb. There wasn't much time to react but Leon did, lunging forward in front of the Liger Zero. The Blade Liger's shield deployed, and one gleaming blade was shoved into the hexgrid.

The light went blinding.

It was so bright it was impossible to open one's eyes.

Leon smelled burning wiring, felt the sear of heat on his skin. His every other sense drowned in the ear-splitting shrieks of colliding power.

Steve watched in horror as both Ligers vanished in the CPG's glaring focus, before the shockwave sent him and the Gun Sniper tumbling violently back. To its credit, the Zoid was quick to regain its footing, and wisely scrambled far back from the mess.

Steve's chest tightened with panicked relief as he saw distinct shapes re-emerge from the blaze of light - the particle beam was fraying against the Blade Liger's shield. Nearby sand had started to go molten, and the rising heat wildly distorted the air.

The beam didn't taper off. Vicious and near-senseless, the Fury kept on, intakes and exhausts alike glowing white-hot with the ongoing draw. Any sane Zoid would've stopped. The Berserk Fury wasn't sane.

"What do we do?!" Bit could feel the Blade Liger's desperation through his own Liger, and heard the two shrilling to each other with a rising panic. The shield was trying to fail on the side of the red Liger missing a blade; the Liger Zero shoved forward to slam a laser claw on the inside edge of the shield, trying to support it. "Liger! "

The feeling wasn't much unlike being punched in the chest.

It hurt - a lot - then things went very numb. A deep warmth overtook him, softly tracing his veins. Despite himself he closed his eyes, this warm silence much preferable to that awful, deafening reality. Time seemed to slow, then stop.

Bit hung content in the silence, aware only of his own heartbeat.

Then another; he knew it to be the soft pulse of the Liger's core.

Then another; smaller, quicker, more like his own. He didn't recognize this one, but he knew it.

The warmth became a tangible embrace.

~Hold on.~

Blinding white light pooled and blazed upward from the Liger Zero, arcing back down to stab into the Berserk Fury. It went clean through the battered Zoid, trailing conduit, Core fragments, a spray of silver blood and a very, very angry, slime-coated black Organoid.

The charged particle beam faded away, as did the red blaze from the Berserk Fury's eyeglass. The Zoid collapsed heavily, unmoving.

Leon's Blade Liger also gave out and crumpled to the ground, vents flaring and jaw gaping in a pant as it dropped the shield, trying to cool down.

But everyone simply stared at the massive white Organoid that now stood pinning a smaller black one to the sand. The white Organoid's bladed face dripped with Zoid blood as it regarded its fellow. Its optics were a soft, vibrant orange - and the smaller Organoid's were simply black voids, dark like every other part of its gloss-black carapace.

"Oh, wow." is all Steve could say.

From beside the base, Layon watched intently. The Shadow Fox dipped its head, pawed the ground and snarled deeply at the Organoids.

The hidden Helcat, employing its optical camouflage, slowed from a run to a careful stalk as it neared the Blitz Team base. Sara and Vega had seen the distant glare of the CPG, and had seen its unnatural light die out a few minutes later. As they drew closer, they saw why: the Berserk Fury lay defeated, still as death.

Vega perceptibly tensed but didn't say anything. His eyes flicked with unheard conversation, and started scanning the ground.

The Organoids. Vega gasped in surprise when he spotted them and reflexively reached out; Sara tightened her grip.

"It's him." Vega said with wonder. "It's him!"

Sara did not share his wonder. The massive white Organoid leering over the smaller black one looked intensely threatening - yet something about the smaller one disturbed her on a very deep level. She struggled to hold Vega in place. "No, it's not safe. Stay here."

"And that's the Liger…" The child said absently. He shifted his grip on the Helcat's controls. Even before any command was issued, the Helcat reflected a polite but extreme desire to stay away from the Organoids. It innately understood something was off.

"He's going to hurt Fury." Vega pushed against Sara again, panicked. "We have to help!"

All Sara could think of was Alteil being absolutely destroyed by the red Organoid. "How do y- no. Those things are dangerous!"

A twinge hit them both at once. They glanced in unison, and noticed the base-distant Shadow Fox was looking right at them. Layon's apprehensive face came up in a videscreen.

"...okay, good. It's you."

"What are you doing here?" Sara snapped.

Layon considered his answer. "Making an attempt at being a decent human being. You?"

Sara opened her mouth, then closed it. Having very nearly been wiped off the planet a few minutes prior, she was considerably less certain of her answer.

She wasn't even sure she could go back to Backdraft safely at this point. She'd effectively lost not only an entire support unit and an substantial amount of valuable equipment, but the Berserk Fury itself. Failure of that magnitude wasn't tolerated well in the Organization, no matter who you were. She was relatively certain they'd never touch Vega, but her...

It was strange; she'd never thought twice about issuing commands to make "problems" go away.

She'd also never thought she could be one of those problems. Sara pulled her arms slightly more taut around an increasingly-resentful Vega. "I don't know."

The black Organoid's thrashing tapered off as the situation solidified. The violent dust cloud cleared and the larger white Organoid continued to bear down, snarling. Fatigued, the Liger Zero rumbled something from where it lay, and the white Organoid glanced back at it.

~...I disagree.~

The Liger's rumble became a growl.

~You have forgotten.~ The dark Organoid said quietly.

The larger looked back. ~Silence.~

Bit regained his senses, abruptly aware of being tightly bound somewhere dark. While the overwhelming sense of safety staved off any panic, he was very confused. Exhausted, his eyes fell closed.

Jaime ran out to the Liger Zero as Toros helped Leon down from his Blade Liger.

Though Leon's expression and demeanor betrayed nothing serious, his eyes told a different story: he was clearly shaken, and in pain. Toros frowned as he caught a glimpse of one of Leon's arms; he grabbed it and turned it over. Leon's palms and wrists were badly burned from where he'd been gripping the overheated controls.

Toros groaned and grabbed first aid materials from the hangar. He quickly but gently wrapped bandages around his son's hands, all the while scolding him by way of poorly-masked anxiety. Leon didn't say anything or argue, just silently nodded when appropriate.

Leon didn't expect Toros to grab and pull him close in a hug, an unusually fatherly gesture.

"Dad. I'm fine."

"No, you're a moron."

"Probably. But I'm also fine."

Jaime made it to the Liger Zero, running up beside the sprawled and damaged Zoid. The Liger was clearly awake and aware, but exhausted - it quietly turned orange eyeglass to the young man as he approached.

Jaime found himself daunted by how direct its regard was. He struggled to look through the eyeglass and into the damaged cockpit. "Bit! Are you okay!?"

The Zoid made a sound easily parsed as uncertainty. It dipped its head and disengaged the cockpit hatch. Jaime ran up, expecting to see the blonde pilot - but the seat and harness were empty. Jaime seized the edge of the cockpit and stared into it incredulously. It was alarmingly bloody, but contained no-one.

For good measure he looked under the Liger and all around it too, coming to the unwelcome conclusion that Bit was simply not there.

"Uh… Doc!"

Naomi hit the ground running, leaping down from her cockpit the moment she'd reached to base - the issue was that she didn't know where to run first. The serious heat emanating from Leon's panting Liger, combined with its reassuring rumble, prompted her to go for the Berserk Fury - a Zoid that was now very clearly dead. It had already started to ossify.

The Shadow Fox was creeping cautiously closer to the Berserk Fury as well, and trilled gentle acknowledgment of Naomi as she ran up alongside the Fury's massive head. Like the Blade Liger, the saurian Zoid was also radiating heat - along with the stench of burnt electronics and hot metal.

It was too hot to comfortably engage. She tried several times to climb higher on the Zoid's face, as to access the cockpit hatch - and each time dropped back, hissing sharp intakes of breath. Layon's voice broadcast from the Fox as it reached a paw forward.

"Move, Fluegel. Here."

The Fox pried open the stiff cockpit hatch, and Naomi clambered up to the cockpit with Layon and the Fox's help. Brad wasn't unconscious but also clearly wasn't aware of much, his gaze fixed forward at nothing even as Naomi touched, then shook his shoulder.

"Brad. Brad."

It was difficult to see on his dark clothing, but the entire front of his shirt was soaked in blood - blood which still drained from his nostrils, down his face with every labored exhale. Naomi undid the piloting harness and tried to move him, but it proved impossible - his muscles were corded with the effort of staying there.

"Fuck." Naomi wasn't expecting that, nor was she expecting how truly rough the man looked up close. He'd lost enough weight for it to be noticeable, and looked like he hadn't slept for a week. While it was obvious none of this was of his own volition, she did struggle with the idea he'd been the one piloting when the Fury wiped away all those people in the blink of an eye.

Her voice wavered. "Brad. Snap out of it. Come on, we need to get y-"

He grabbed Naomi's arm - she startled, but the grip eased quickly. With obvious effort he shifted his eyes to her. They read a deep terror, and he spoke through his teeth. "Get out of here."

She shook her head. "It's over. The Zoid's dead."

Brad met her eyes directly, and in that instant Naomi saw the deep hollow of another being entirely: one that not only wasn't Brad, but wasn't human.

"But I'm not."

With massive strength he flung her to the side. Naomi would've fallen completely to the ground if not for the Fox's quick catch. The Shadow Fox keened in confusion as Brad tore up and out of the cockpit, cresting the back ridge of the Berserk Fury's head and leaping off into empty air.

It wasn't empty for long. From beneath the white Organoid the darker one suddenly flared massive wings, surprising and unbalancing the larger. Two massive wing-beats threw sand before the creature dissolved into an inky slash and disappeared.

It reappeared fractions of a second later under Brad - its underside splitting, pitch-black wiring lashing out and snaring the man before they both vanished again.

Chapter Text

Zoid combat often ended up in contests of sheer brutality. In contrast, Organoid combat was fierce and relatively fleeting.

The black Organoid jolted back towards and plowed into the white one, the combined projectile of their bodies carving a meters-long furrow in the sand. With an indignant shriek the larger seized the smaller's nape, fighting strong momentum to toss its foe aside.

They split with a massive spray of grit and rock. Both took a moment to regain their footing, and both leveled their heads and gazes at one another simultaneously. The black Organoid gave a screech and launched skyward with a powerful downstroke of its massive wings, vanishing in a flicker of dark. The white Organoid roared and spread wide energy-wings of its own, taking just as quickly to the sky.

Bit found himself jolted awake again, enveloped in a rising sense of power and mastery. It didn't strike him as at all strange that he was soaring upward at a tremendous speed. The experience was simply one of such all-consuming bliss he never wanted it to end.

But it did, and as he surveyed things from this massive height, the exultation drained away and he again became aware of the differentiation between him and the Liger. He still didn't know where he actually was.

"Liger, am I dead?" He asked, point blank.

~No.~ The Liger Zero's voice.

Or… rather, he realized intuitively, Zero's voice. He was vividly aware that the Liger was on the ground below, peering up at them. Zero's strength coursed throughout, making him feel light and invincible. It was the high of piloting the Liger intensified beyond reason.

This all would've been fantastic had he not been body-slammed seconds later, by a presence he quickly identified as Brad - backed invisibly by the Fury's Organoid.

It didn't hurt though. He recovered quickly and held up a calming hand.

"Whoa, whoa! Hey now. Brad."

"Shut up. Fight me."

"I don't really-"

"Fucking thief. Junk dealer. How dare you. Fight me!" Brad snarled, almost spitting every word. Bit blinked, taken aback. The pure, disgusted rage in the older man's voice was distressingly genuine.

Goaded by the blonde's reaction but annoyed by his lack of response, Brad continued. "You think you're better than me? Than our whole team? Fuck you."

It honestly hurt a little. "I- what? I never-"

"You won't fight me alone because you're afraid to lose."

There was something to Brad's voice. The lilt of an Organoid, which Bit somehow recognized - likely because he felt the same thing in his own voice, from Zero. The mere presence of the Fury's Organoid was strangely acidic, stinging and burning and doing its best to make Bit upset. Not that Brad's accusations weren't already.

"I mean, not really." Bit was lying and everyone knew it. "But I'd prefer to fight… you know, in Zoids." Not a lie.

A pause, that Bit and Zero read as hesitation - and consideration. "No. Fight us. Now."

"Who's 'us'?" Bit and Zero knew. But it was painfully clear that Brad didn't.

"Me." Brad blinked several times. "Us…"

Bit held out a hand. "C'mon. We don't need to fight. We're friends."

He certainly hoped they were friends, anyways. Prior teammates and Royal Cup victors had to count for something. The other man merely looked at the offered hand for a long moment, coldly silent.

"Bit." It was suddenly just Brad's voice. Low, terrified. "Help me."

The plea came as both a relief and a source of dread. Bit desperately wanted to help, but didn't know how. He wondered if Zero did. At the very least, it made sense to take the notion of Brad's hand. He forcefully did so - and found himself rewarded with the excruciating sensation of being bitten thousands of times by all manner of sharp-toothed terrors. Normally a cause for rage, or fear - but he was fine, with Zero there.

Bit then frowned, deluged by a deep sadness of Zero's.

Zero clearly remembered Brad trying - and failing - to take control of the Liger Zero. There came a painful awareness that Brad had quite willingly sought the same thing in the Fury, and in doing so accepted its very deepest roots. Though the man said he was desperate for help, he clung tightly to the promised power and control. And, quite simply - was unwilling to let them go.

Those promises - vices, were the Fury's illusive route to a source of strong emotion to draw from, and held only what wretched life they were given. For Brad it was life largely fueled by the deeply-buried resentment he held for the blonde, and his similarly-buried fear of the Liger.

It hurt Zero to know the true depth of this fear.

Zero then also understood that Vega simply hadn't the depth of negative experience necessary to adequately provide for the Fury. A sheltered, spoiled child, no matter how skilled, held nowhere near the amount of bitterness and anger that an unassuming man run ragged by the world did.

The Fury snarled suddenly at Zero, through Brad. "No. Vega is perfect and lacks nothing."

As it spoke, Bit and Zero both were seared by the distinct impression of a problem: a crack, a gap, something missing. The Fury sensed their perception of this weakness and shrank back defensively, angry and in pain.

"I hurt. I have hurt Vega. It is your fault. I will destroy you both."

Bit reached out again, but it was Zero who spoke. "You are… broken. What happened? Let us help."

"It is your fault!" The Fury screamed. "I will destroy you for what you have done!"

Brad and the Fury lunged, Bit and Zero caught it. They rolled them with grace and ended up pinning Brad prone, to the undefined ground.

"We have done nothing." Zero said sternly, taking a closer look at the Fury's hidden wound.

"Fight me, you coward!" Brad screamed, as he and the Fury thrashed against being held down. Bit was admittedly unnerved by their raw strength - they couldn't hold these two down forever. He caught Brad's eye again, but the man was completely lost to a panicked rage. "I'll kill you!"

Zero stared at Brad, but paused. It'd been angry with him for quite some time about his aggressive, unruly attempt at piloting, but it didn't understand what had happened until this moment:

Bonding. Physiology alone.

The blood of the Ancients, diluted by time and almost completely lost to the mass of humanity - still ached for what had been. Brad had it. Brad had never felt an Organoid before, and could do little but be compelled by the siren's song of a bondmate - any bondmate - when presented with it.

It was the way of things.

It's why he'd tried again to pilot the Liger. It's why he'd become so deeply afraid of and angry with it. He'd been rejected on a level that not even he understood, and it instructed his baser instincts accordingly.

Vega, too, must then have-

Zero then remembered.

Thick air, acrid smoke. The sun overhead had been reduced to a dull crimson orb.

Bit looked around, coughing. He seemed to be in some kind of city, though its buildings and structures were unlike anything, anywhere that Bit recognized.

It was also deathly silent; an unnatural, disturbed silence that made every hair on the blonde's neck raise. Bit looked around in bewilderment for anyone or anything familiar. He didn't understand how he'd ended up here.

He spotted Brad - and Vega - standing a distance off, and bolted to them. But they were both fixated on the ground, staring in horror. Bit looked down also-

How had he not seen it before? The streets were littered with bodies. They were standing on bodies. What looked like humans, dead. Organoids, dead. Zoids, dead, small and large, their stone shells breaking up the stiff-limbed monotony of death that coated every street as far as they could see.

Vega backed up two uncertain steps, then started screaming. His relative indifference to death was one thing when isolated or conceptual. Being forced to confront the collective sight of a genocidal bodycount was another entirely.

"What is this place?" Bit yelled at the two of them. "What's happening?!"

A Zoid's piercing cry shattered the air, shook the ground. Bit had never heard the sound in his life, but possessed knowledge of what it was: a Death Saurer.

Vega and Brad exchanged a glance then looked up. Bit did too, but could barely comprehend the thing - its outline vague, obscured by haze, and unspeakably massive.

The blonde felt a deep and unmistakable pull, a beckon to his brainstem that couldn't be ignored. He turned and there stood Zero, gleaming brightly despite the smoky air. A distance behind it, the ground rumbled and the street's hard surface tented as if paper. Both the bodies and the flaking street tumbled away from the rising form of a massive white and silver scorpion Zoid. It planted its many legs on walls and structure as it emerged from the ground, one massive foot-claw slamming down inches from an unphased Zero.

The white Organoid quietly turned its head to regard the monstrosity, and spoke in a language Bit didn't understand. The scorpion responded in kind: though it also couldn't be understood, its many-layered, hissing tones were uniquely disturbing to hear.

Bit reached out, frightened, and screamed. "Zero!"

Orange optics swung back his way and looked around, unsure.

But it was as if Bit didn't exist. There came no acknowledgement. Zero then settled its stare forward, as if expecting something. Then disappeared in a slash of white light-

Only to immediately collide with a slash of black. The white and black Organoids tangled mid-teleport and reformed in a messy skid, lashing wires, teeth, talons at each other, their shrieks unearthly.

It had to stop. It wouldn't stop.

Bit closed his eyes against a swell of pain. It was immense - not just Zero's own, but a maddening, saturating awareness of the death and suffering all around. The wounded, the dead, the dying… it hurt him, but empowered the other.

Unfair. Unjust. It was wrong to cause so much pain. And for what? To what end?

Maybe They, the great Saurer and Scorpion, were right to want to join together. There was no real battle to be won here. To have a victor meant the subjugation and destruction of those defeated. It would never be absolute, and resentment would smolder in hearts for generations that would in turn just fuel more hellish outward flame later.

The pain would continue without end; there could be no healing path forward.

Zero whipped his head, bladed whisker parrying a jet-black tail strike. ~There is no purpose to this fighting!~

The dark Organoid parted its fangs and screeched. ~There is always a purpose to fighting. That purpose is survival.~

~Do you care nothing for those lost to this pointless madness?~

~The weak are food for the strong. It is the way of things!~

~One, we are above this!~

They rattled wings and postured, hissing, howling, finally lunging then blazing skyward in combat.

Bit watched them disappear from view, and looked back down. The oppressive crush of Zero's awareness left him, and he was left blankly staring at Brad and Vega - who were staring straight back at him.

Their eyes were deep with equal measures of emptiness and intensity.

Brad's throat worked uneasily. "You'll kill us all."

Bit shook his head. "No one's killing anyone."

"Because we're going to stop you."

Vega looked between Bit and Brad, visibly upset. "I - I don't want this anymore. Stop!"

Blue eyes slid to the child, and Brad's face cracked a smirk. "Fuck you, kid. You wanted the piper, you got him, now you're gonna pay him. The Fury's mine. He'll see I'm better than you."

Bit scowled. "Brad, the Fury's using you. You have to let it go."

Brad laughed. "Says the Liger's bitch. The Liger Zero wants to kill everything, you idiot."

"Brad -"

The twisted blaze of the two fighting Organoids smashed back to the ground, violently splitting the two. They smoothly recovered and faced off.

One turned to Brad, and Bit realized that they were still firmly in communication. He looked at Zero and screamed again, "Zero! Come on!" but was ignored.

Vega rapidly looked from One to Bit several times, now terrified. "He's right. He's right!"

"Who's right?! What's-"

Zero shot upwards in a blaze of white and plunged back down into the white Scorpion Zoid. One shrieked and jolted forth in the same instant, a violent inky slash also stabbing into the Scorpion.

Zero reformed within the Scorpion's massive core chamber, interfacing delicately but swiftly with the crystalline Core. One's subsequent invasion of the space came as a surprise, but instead of reforming within the outer shell, he plunged through the gleaming crystal surface and into the Core's soft innards.

Reforming within the viscous, superheated fluid, One forcibly spilled its wiring, lancing vital structures, ensnaring Zero's interface with its own and trying to drag the larger Organoid closer.

Zero howled at this excruciating violation, pulling back and trying to shore up the Core's compromised, weeping surface. He couldn't do this while also resisting One's pull, however - and One seemed to know this, retracting hard, reeling Zero near, lunging to snap at the exposed and vulnerable area wherein lay the white Organoid's own Core,

Zero withdrew in an instant, the need for self-defense outweighing considerations of collateral damage. The Scorpion's Core lost integrity and cracked, a bright, rift-like wound gaping across its surface. Zero shifted, blazing a haphazard teleport to a different angle to reinterface, trying desperately to mend the damage.

One's slimy wiring exploded out through the wound, widening the split. The vile tide of wires slithered over Zero and lashed him tightly to the Core's fracturing surface.

One hissed a laugh. ~Destroy this beast or die with it.~

~Your bastard kind will never prosper!~

~Mm. I will relish consuming you.~

The silver-blue crust of the Core gave way, crushed inward with Zero in tow.

The Zoid screamed in pain, but was powerless to stop the conflict - while Organoids could generally be ejected by unwilling Zoids, these two could not be so easily dispelled. The Scorpion bashed its body against buildings in an agonal frenzy, the Death Saurer watching silently.

The Zoid's pain overwhelmed Zero, and the white Organoid shrieked in a shared agony. It dissolved in a desperate blaze of teleportation - one which took it straight through One, straight out of the Core, straight out of the Zoid.

The Core fluid cavitated momentarily around One, rippling with the shockwave.

The dark Organoid hung motionless.

Something was wrong.

Chipped shrapnel of its own Core glittered behind the sweeping curve of its back, Engaged wholly with the fracturing Core of the Scorpion, One felt itself trying to interface in several directions - a uniquely painful sensation that lasted until something deep within gave way.

Unbidden rage surged. One threw open its massive wings with a scream, tearing the gleaming Core apart.

Bit stood trembling, with no real concept of what unholy hell Zero's memory had ensconced him in. Yet he dutifully braced alongside his partner, crushed by the grief, by the sorrow, by the sheer weight of suffering - by the guilt . The world Zero had been born to ended, and it had been powerless to stop it.

Had Zero been any other Organoid, Bit would've instantly lost his mind. But what Bit didn't know is that without the grounding of a stable partner, Zero would've also lost his - again. Together they realized that the Fury was indeed this old foe, One, and yes - he, Zero, had done this damage.

A very, very long time ago, and not intentionally. But it was by his strike nonetheless.

Shattered, One - already born aggressive - had gone ever-so-subtly mad and madder for ages, stuck desperately trying to heal and make up for what it had lost that day. But it couldn't forge a bond with anyone without destroying them. Instead of being a solid foundation, as Organoids ought, it was an unending sinkhole that could do nothing but collapse beneath and feed on pilot after pilot, insatiable and insane.

Until Vega. Vega broke the cycle. He wanted a friend, a partner. Not a weapon, a monster.

One responded in kind, as best it could.

Vega was different. Vega was stronger. Vega had survived the collapse - barely.

One wouldn't risk him again, but couldn't fight without a pilot. Without guidance. Without fury. Brad was everything Vega was not, and could not be. And One had yet to collapse beneath him.

Zero's prolonged distraction left Bit vulnerable.

One seized upon opportunity and Brad twisted, throwing Bit off. They descended into a brawl, trying desperately to overpower each other. Much like they were in their Zoids of choice, they were near-evenly matched. Limbs shook and gazes locked.

"Brad, listen to me. You have to stop this."

"I will. After I get rid of you." Exertion thinned the man's voice and bared an underlying desperation. "We can't rest until you're dead."

"He's lying to you! Me and Zero can help you both!"

One screamed. Brad pushed away and pointed, face losing all humanity.

"How dare you speak such filth!" The Fury - through Brad - said in Zoidian . "I at least acknowledge the suffering I cause. It is my house of worship, our source of strength. You! You act as if you are free of such travesty. Yet you leave pain everywhere you go!"

Zero stared in silence, before snarling an uneasy reply through Bit. "I tried to stop it. "

"And you utterly failed. This is your fault, and you must perish!"

"Causing more pain has never solved anything. And it never will."

Jaime, Leon, and Toros stood watching what they could see of the Organoids' vicious combat, unsure of what to do. Despite the situation - like Bit being MIA - no one was keen to move closer. The battling creatures were small, but the extreme velocities of the clashes made it just as dangerous as it'd be to stroll onto an active Zoid battlefield.

Naomi stood watching too - much nearer, stunned. She regained her senses and dashed back towards the base. Her waiting Gun Sniper shrilled anxiously, and the Blade Liger and Shadow Fox both replied.

As she ran to Leon, she noticed his bandaged hands but otherwise-intact state. Her face read a baffling mix of anger, relief, confusion, and terror, as she stopped short of him and shouted, "What are these things?! Where are they coming from?! Why- what-"

"They're Organoids." Toros replied, bluntly. He glanced out of the hangar and back at Naomi. "The Liger Zero and the Berserk Fury h-"

"Yes, it's obvious those two Zoids are involved." Naomi snapped, looking furiously at Toros. "But the one the other day- and- these aren't supposed t- one of them just-" She made a quick grasping motion, "-grabbed Brad and…"

Everyone's gazes snapped outside again as the Organoids roared.

Jamie squinted at Naomi's explanation. It was obvious there weren't humans actively involved in the combat. "Grabbed him? How?"

"Like- like a plant," Was Naomi's best explanation, glancing back to Jaime to repeat the motion she'd demonstrated. "It opened!"

Jaime blinked, looked back outside and stared skyward.

In reality, One had pulled away and beat its wings in a rage. It slashed down through the sky, disappearing into the downed Berserk Fury. The Zoid's eyeglass blazed and the Berserk Fury briefly rose… only to collapse again.

The Zoid was no more. It'd only been kept alive by the Organoid's presence. The Fury had destructively fed from the actual Zoid's Core for so long, it was nothing but a necrotic husk. Between the vicious battle and the powerful strike from Zero, the Zoid had perished.

~Worthless! Weak!~

One leapt from the Berserk Fury and launched vertically again, aiming to plow into Zero - but was narrowly avoided. Zero pivoted on a powerful backstroke, regarding the other.

~One. Stop.~

The dark Organoid shrieked defiantly. Desperately.

Within the mental space, Bit put a hand on Brad's shoulder. He regretted that he didn't know the man better, so he could try to do or say something that might better convey his sincerity. They'd fought together, and spent about a year on the Blitz Team together. Bit had never really considered how long Brad had called the team home before him. Never really considered how very unwelcome his own chance arrival may have been. Never really considered.

Zero roared in response, undaunted, and the Liger below joined it. As did the Blade Liger, the two Gun Snipers, and the Raynos.

Even the stealthed Helcat responded, but Sara was too busy dealing with Vega to really register it. The child had his fists balled against his temples, and was gasping uncontrolled, horrified sobs into Sara's shirt. She still had her arms around him - now not in restraint, but in a perplexed attempt at comfort.

~No! Your alliances are borne of deceit. Your victories come at the cost of unending despair.~ One shuddered with rage as it spoke. ~I tire of this. It is you who must die, and it is you. Who. Shall!~

Another forward dive became a black slash in the sky, which this time clipped Zero - who immediately spun to engage, but was again smashed into.

Zero seized One, folded a wing, and dropped, taking them both down at speed. They weren't terribly high up and very quickly, very violently met the ground. The two Organoids writhed briefly in a shrieking bout of combat, before Zero righted and slammed a hindtalon down on One's neck. The black Organoid angrily thrashed for a few moments before subsiding.

~One. Your Zoid is dead. This fight is over. Stop.~

Brad silently pushed Bit's hand off of his shoulder. His eyes were closed. He shook his head.

"Real sorry, Bit."

Blue eyes flashed open with a possessed violence, and with the advantage of surprise Brad seized the blonde's throat. They crashed to the nondescript ground, Bit clawing at Brad's hands and arms wildly.

One relished in the renewed assault, starving for that precious drive to continue. Depleted, exhausted and unable to control itself, the Organoid turned on Brad in-mind and ravenously sank its fangs into the man.

There was nothing else left to draw from. One realized its mistake with some trepidation, but after tasting metaphorical blood couldn't stop itself. It was absolutely a betrayal, one that the Organoid could not help and was just as much a victim of.

Bit sat up and stared. "Brad! Let go!"

He didn't. Whether he wouldn't or couldn't was immaterial. He simply did not. Brad collapsed in the mental space and vanished. In reality, his heart stopped. With it, stopped the ongoing fuel One needed to function. The black Organoid screamed and shuddered before falling still.

Vega looked up with a sharp inhale.

His heart stopped too, and he slumped onto Sara.

Chapter Text

Layon watched the battle come to an end from the relative safety of the Shadow Fox.

He'd thought that the Organoid Systems he'd discerned were AI, similar to what he'd created for the Fox. Apparently not. Apparently people should've taken the name far more literally.

He wanted to get his hands on an Organoid. Badly. His eyes flicked with thought.

He'd been disappointed and concerned with the prospects surrounding the red Organoid that'd showed up at - and disappeared without a trace from - the Mackaray base. But the Backdraft had apparently had an Organoid this whole time: the Berserk Fury.

Maybe that's what was wrong with the damn thing.

Fortunately for Layon, the Fox was equipped with a number of advanced sensors. He was trying to get all the data he could, but-

[I don't like: this. I don't like: them._ ] The Shadow Fox repeated at him dozens of times, prompting Layon to take off the interface helmet and shake his head.

"I get it. Calm down."

The Fox continued to paw the ground restlessly and looked at the other Zoids, who were fixated on the two Organoids. The Shadow Fox trilled at the Blade Liger, which glanced and dismissively chuffed.

Layon could sense the Fox's irritation with that, helmet be damned.

Jaime was uncomfortably close to the hangar's threshold when a Helcat tore in, dropping its stealth and alarming the hell out of everyone as it did so. The Zoid stopped with great precision and immediately knelt to ground level, cockpit hatch hissing open. No one knew Sara, but they immediately recognized Vega: he lay draped across her arms.

"Help me!" She cried. "Someone!"

Toros dashed over and assisted her out of the cockpit, gently taking Vega from her arms. The child was alarmingly cool to the touch and completely limp. Toros set Vega down and checked him over quickly, tensing. No pulse, not breathing.

Leon and Steve's glances met, grim - but Sara cried out again. "Do something!"

On a deep level, Toros grasped her unique desperation - that of a parent. He looked over his shoulder at the woman, hesitated, then started with chest compressions on Vega.

Leon didn't have much patience left as he looked at Sara. "Who are you, and what happened?"

Zero held One down until it was certain the black Organoid was actually out.

Then it took a step away, reared back and released Bit from within itself. The blonde didn't miss a beat, leaping out and to the ground as if well-practiced. He looked over his shoulder to finally acknowledge his mode of transport.

"...whoa."

He shook his head, gathered his bearings, then knelt beside One.

Zero again slammed a hindtalon down on the unconscious Organoid, and its gloss-black carapace split in the middle. With the two's efforts, its belly-panels and wiring were quickly prized apart. Like tightly-packed, disturbing entrails, Brad and more slick black wiring spilled from within.

Bit hurriedly dragged the man out of the mess. He didn't have much in the way of medical knowledge, but did know people were supposed to be breathing. Brad wasn't.

"Shit. Zero!"

The white Organoid moved in closer, looking Brad over. It saw what Bit did: a lifeless-looking man, but also saw what Bit could not: a serious wound to Brad's self, to the psyche - both hidden, and looking quite like the wound Zero had seen in One.

Organoids were meant to buoy their partners, not gouge holes in them. But Brad wasn't One's partner - Vega was, or should be. The black Organoid's insistence on monopolizing two people was bound to cause problems. Zero looked up and around briefly. Vega; where was Vega.

"What do we do?!"

It of course made sense that the woman with Vega was from Backdraft. Vega was from Backdraft, after all. But her terse explanation allayed no one's concerns and visibly angered Naomi, who started towards Sara. Leon stopped her.

"Naomi-"

Her anger swung to Leon. "We'll help a child. But she can fuck off."

"He's my son." Sara snapped.

Toros silently acknowledged that he was right, but that did nothing for the situation. Everyone became uncomfortably quiet watching so much resuscitative effort directed at Vega's small body.

Naomi became too frustrated and ran out of the hangar. Leon sighed, and glared dangerously at Sara. He wanted to ask and know more, but now wasn't the time.

Sara was simply staring down at Vega, horrified.

She'd lost so many of her children. Vega was the only one to survive to birth. He'd been so perfect and lovely in every way. She had fit him into Backdraft's molds trying to shape him for a future she thought would be just as perfect as he was.

Zoid battles were dangerous, technically, but that had never really mattered. His prodigy status had somehow eased all concerns. The first time she'd been truly worried about him was at the Royal Cup.

Now he was just laying there, dead, and she wasn't able to deal with that. It showed clearly on her face.

"Dad, what can I do?" Leon said.

"Get the emergency kit out of the med bay," Toros said. 'if the med bay is still there' went unspoken, as he'd not yet been able to properly assess the damage to the base. He didn't let up with the compressions except to check for results, but was clearly getting tired.

Jaime stepped in and switched out before Toros became too exhausted to continue. He glanced leerily, not wanting to say what was certainly being considered at this point: this didn't matter.

Layon leapt down from the Shadow Fox, walking towards Bit and Zero just in time to watch the white Organoid whip around and vanish with a flash. Bit warily eyed Layon, who'd knelt nearby. Layon checked Brad over briefly before standing and grunting with disgust.

"Finally got him too, huh."

"What do y… what's going on, Layon?"

Layon shrugged. "You know there's been folks going missing over the past few months? Backdraft. Backdraft's responsible. Looking for someone to pilot the Berserk Fury."

Bit stared. "What about Vega?"

"He almost died after the Royal Cup. He w-"

"I saw him after the battle! He was just fine!"

"Yeah. Until he wasn't."

Bit's eyes darted, trying to reconcile his version of events with this. A wave of anxiety hit him; had he and Zero somehow done this same sort of thing to Vega, too? He looked down at Brad and shook the man several times in a panic.

Leon was quick to return, awkwardly carrying a small case under one arm.

Toros took it from him and clattered the box open, sorting through materials several notches above first aid. He'd pulled out a syringe, holding it in his teeth as he fumbled for the rest of what was needed, when a blinding blaze of white caused him to stumble back.

The white Organoid they'd earlier been watching materialized amidst the group, absolutely massive and daunting up-close. When it righted to survey the area, it was well over 9 feet tall.

Everyone staggered back and gaped - everyone but Sara. She and Zero made firm eye contact, before the creature abruptly split its undersides, used several loops of wire to seize Vega out from under Jaime, and vanished.

Jaime's palm hit the floor and he blinked, bewildered.

It'd been mere moments. After everyone recovered from the shock, Jaime was the first to stand and abruptly bolt towards the outside. The others followed.

"He's dead, Bit." Layon said bluntly, as he walked to the other side of One and knelt again. He observed the stilled Organoid closely, nudging it to one side then the other to take in the various anatomy. "People pilot the Berserk Fury, they die. For some reason."

Bit's face dropped to a scowl. The blonde wasn't ready for the unsettling realization that hit him: this was probably what Brad meant with his ultimatum. "And you helped Backdraft?"

Layon picked up an end of the abundant black coils of wiring laying about. He studied it thoughtfully, then looked at Bit. "Not with that." He produced a short, sharp blade from his pocket and neatly sliced the segment off.

This was a questionable life decision. One shrieked with pain and awoke, stiffly and in a stupor. It slowly recoiled and closed itself, jaws spastically chopping air and splayed talons trembling.

Bit angrily shouldered Layon away. "Back off! For fuck's sake-"

Zero reappeared in a flash and reacted with surprise, at both Layon's proximity - and One being awake. Bit raised a brow at his partner and relayed the situation, prompting Zero to growl and snap at Layon. The big man scuttled away.

Zero split and gently set Vega down on the ground, eliciting startled dismay from Bit. "Wh- Vega!"

The white Organoid carefully looked over Vega as well, and found the exact same issue: a deep and particular wound. Vega's was less raw, but no less serious. It confirmed Zero's suspicion - One likely inflicted this same damage on anyone it touched. Intentional or not, most wouldn't survive this kind of savaging for long. Healing the body would do no good unless this, first, was seen to.

One's head turned slightly, towards Vega. It couldn't break out of its dysfunctional throes, but both Bit and Zero felt the painful tension of its desperation.

Zero regarded One. ~You have done this. Do you understand?~

Impotent, trembling rage was the response. Jaws gnashed weakly Zero's way.

~I can help you. But you must let me.~

~...this. Is your. fault.~

~I never meant this harm, One. Blame helps no one.~

Every nerve ending in Bit's body screamed for him to flee, so intense was the fury emanating from One. But he understood, via Zero, that this wretched creature was now powerless. Beneath its rage was a profound terror: it didn't want Vega to die and leave it alone in the world again.

"One, please. Listen to Zero. We just wanna help."

One sharply locked eyes with Bit. Its ravenous hollow lay bare before him, a gaping void - yet somehow tempting, with promises of control -

Bit embraced the dark. Not in acceptance or resignation, but out of the understood need to reach the thing. He expected cold, he expected pain, he expected something - but what he did not expect was a dead-silent mental space in which he found he had one arm around Vega, the other around Brad.

Silence.

Green eyes shot open.

The next thing Bit knew, Naomi was there, knelt beside Brad. Bit glanced to Vega and saw the child rolling blearily to one sandy side, chest heaving. He sprinted over and helped Vega up.

Vega shook his head at Bit through his frantic gasping, trying to push away. Bit didn't let him, instead wrapping his arms tightly around the child. "Vega. You need to listen to me."

Vega writhed and spit, rasping angrily. "Let go of me!"

That same lilt that he'd heard from Brad. One's influence. "Vega. One is your partner, but you don't have to do what he says. He doesn't want to hurt you, and neither do we. He needs our help, and you do too. Okay?"

Vega kept shaking his head, resisting fiercely and starting to sob. "I can't, Bit. I can't. It hurts so much. It hurts."

Bit didn't budge. "You can do this. Trust me. You just have to let us help."

Vega screeched and bit Bit, One's wild rage clear in his eyes. Bit winced and just let it happen, several times - his sleeves took the brunt of it - until Vega wore himself out and resumed sobbing. "No! No! Why won't you fight!"

"Because we don't have to. We can choose not to."

Vega turned his head and buried his face into Bit's chest, shuddering with a blood-curdling scream of pure frustration.

Layon climbed back into the anxious Fox and directed it away from the area, but it resisted and stopped after only a few loping steps. Layon dropped the helmet back on, sighing. "Come on. We're going."

[Dr. Layon. I am concerned about: Brad. And: Naomi. We are to: protect her._ ]

"Says who? He's dead, she's fine. Go!"

[No._ ] It lifted the steering column out of easy reach, briefly dragging Layon with it until he let go, and dropped back into the seat. [But, stay. With: Me. It's not: safe out there._ ]

Brad was choking on the deepest breaths he'd ever managed in his life, when he was promptly helped upright by Naomi.

The woman startled as one of the Shadow Fox's massive claws crunched to the sand beside her and Brad. The Zoid unceremoniously scraped them both further away from the Organoids, the claw's silver broadside bulldozing them along on a churning plot of ground.

Naomi glared up at the Fox, sucking in a breath to yell at Layon - but the Shadow Fox was looking directly back at her in a way that only curious Zoids did. She faltered, and the Fox trilled its attempt at placation.

The sound prompted Brad to open his eyes. He looked wearily from the Fox, to Naomi.

"...sorry." Was the first thing he managed to say.

Naomi's pulled him close and held him tightly, voice thinning with emotion. "Don't apologize, you asshole."

Vega screamed until his voice went hoarse, screamed until he was exhausted, screamed until he couldn't scream any more. He sank onto Bit, quieting to a few occasional gulps for breath.

At length he looked up.

"We do want your help."

Zero stepped near.

Bit had no idea what to expect or do, so he let the white Organoid take the lead. To his pleasant surprise he found himself overwhelmed again with exultation, that brimming sense of invincibility he'd earlier felt.

Less positively, he became aware of just what a danger the feeling was. The power felt good, too good, and he recognized at the height of it that morality became an abstract, unimportant concept. There wasn't good or bad, right or wrong. Only things he wanted, and things he did not. The point was one of understanding and exchange. While Bit experienced the draw of power, Vega experienced a swell of empathy, unlike anything he'd experienced before. They were both left speechless.

Vega sniffed, bunching a shaking hand to his chest.

The pain he'd simply grown used to, was gone. He could breathe again. He could think again. He felt One's touch - as a companion, not as a draining fog.

Silence.

Brad and Naomi's tight embrace lasted. His face stayed buried in her hair and shoulder; his body shook lightly with stifled sobs. She really didn't know what to do besides hold him. She certainly didn't know what else to say.

The sun hung low and bright on the horizon. The desert wind began to grow cold.

"Brad." It was Bit.

The man looked up. His eyes lifted to Bit, then past - to the white Organoid following behind him.

"Zero says you're hurt." Bit said, and touched a hand lightly to his own chest in demonstration.

Naomi looked over her shoulder at Bit, then back at Brad. The man said nothing, his silence and gaze cold.

"… are you okay?" Naomi finally asked.

No. He wasn't. He knew exactly what Bit was referring to, though he didn't know how the blonde and his small Zoid - Organoid - could possibly help.

He felt hollow, sad. Abandoned, worthless. The Liger had made him feel these same things a long time ago, albeit with much less intensity. If that creature was 'the Liger Zero' - and he very much understood that it was - how could it help? It'd just make things worse.

Brad gently ran his hands up and down Naomi's back. But he didn't answer.

"Brad. Please." Bit reached out. "We can help."

All Brad could think about was Bit having front row seats to a very ugly, very vulnerable underside. He resented it fiercely. "Fuck off."

~There is nothing to be ashamed of.~ Zero said quietly. ~Hate and avarice are present in many. It is how you act on them that matters.~ A pause. ~I know you did what you could. I know you meant no harm.~

Brad squinted his eyes tightly shut. If Zero knew those things, what else did it know? Everything, like the Fury did?

He hated that these things just talked into your mind. You couldn't ignore them. You couldn't muffle the sounds. You could only listen, only hear, both the words and their intentions crystal clear. The same went for any responses. Brad knew this from weeks of communicating with the Fury.

He knew this, yet still tried to keep down his response. He couldn't. It rose like bile, unable to be dispelled except by speaking: "It's still mine. "

Bit's hackles subtly rose, but he tried to hide it. "The Berserk Fury is dead. One is Vega's partner."

Hollow, sad, abandoned, worthless. He'd failed, been betrayed, left to die. He couldn't even reach out to the Fury - One - because the connection between them was gone. Everything hurt. "Then it doesn't matter, does it."

A cold breeze whipped them both as silence fell.

"Please don't do this. We just want-"

The soft digital growl of the Shadow Fox started nearby, a warning.

"Brad, please-"

"Fox! "

A louder growl and gnash of teeth; the Fox responded quickly, putting itself protectively in front of the couple. Stares were exchanged like crossbow bolts through the gaps in the crouching Fox's legs.

~There is nothing to be afraid of, Brad.~ Zero said. 

Just out of reach. Just out of touch. Zero's voice held all the same promises of power that'd been ripped away - but Brad knew from experience that Zero's were not his to have. Not now, not ever.

And that was most certainly something to be afraid of.

Layon ultimately stole the Helcat and ran off.

Brad and Naomi quietly returned to Romeo City with their Zoids.

Hours later, well after dark, a small group of ZBC and ZBGF officers arrived at the Blitz Team base. They'd earlier detected the unauthorized use of charged particle weaponry, and had come to investigate.

Toros downplayed the incident severely, indicating that they'd been attacked by the rogue Berserk Fury - and dealt with it. They were the Blitz Team, after all. The evidence of a neutralized threat was also simple to demonstrate, given that the beast's stone carcass rested in easy view.

Sufficiently allayed, but growing slightly more concerned about the Backdraft, the officers left. They'd seemed to be waiting for more... but Steve gave them nothing else to work with.

The Blitz Team patriarch walked quietly back into the base, stepping over debris to walk in through a melted gouge of ex-flooring. There'd once been a very thick wall and several small rooms here.

Toros made it several steps further in before he stopped, folded quietly to his knees, put a hand over his face… and sobbed.

It wasn't despair. It was relief.

A low, purring chuff drew his attention after a span. He knew it was the Liger Zero.

After a short struggle, he composed himself and looked over at it.

Between the white Liger's paws Bit and Zero lay together, the former sporting fresh bandages and being messily sprawled over the Organoid in sleep. Opposite them lay One and Vega, tucked tightly together and equally asleep. The Liger couldn't quite communicate the necessary nuance, but both didn't want to interrupt Toros… and didn't want him to wake its charges.

So it just chuffed again, very softly.

Toros understood. He smiled gratefully at the Zoid and started to walk back into the base, but paused.

A distinct feeling of being watched - and not by a Zoid. He noticed Sara watching him quietly.

He cleared his throat and looked aside for a moment. Then looked back and extended a hand. "The common room is warmer if you want to sleep in there."

Sara regarded him. "You trust me inside your base?"

Toros smirked. "If we're being honest, no. But I live here. You don't. Home field advantage." The smirk warmed into a chuckle. "Do you trust me, inside my base, is a better question."

Sara grinned a little, stood from where she was seated, and followed Toros inside.

Chapter Text

About a week later.

The night's cool breeze came through the open window, a gentle caress on warm skin.

After Brad's needed stint at the hospital, Naomi had both tearfully and chidingly accepted him back into her Team and life. She'd tried to make as much light of the situation as she could, giving Brad the extra time to do or process things when he clearly needed it. To be fair, they both had a lot to process.

She was patient, kind, and listened carefully as Brad told her what had gone on.

Some of it.

He left out some parts. Like the ones where he'd slaughtered a dozen or so people and Zoids. One by one, piece by piece.

She didn't need to know that. To be honest, he didn't, either. She knew what had happened with CPG, but that was different. That was a matter-of-fact, simple situational necessity. Different.

They lay together, naked in the woman's bed. Naomi breathed softly, sound asleep.

Brad was not asleep. He was staring at the ceiling.

He'd never breathe a word of it, but he felt deeply troubled: in contrast to what else he'd experienced recently, sex seemed a little lacking. This was a considerable problem.

Brad got up, put on enough clothing to be decent, and stepped out onto the apartment's cold patio. He lit a cigarette and stood in the dark, quietly contemplating the distant city lights over a smoke.

Movement in his periphery caught his attention, and he glanced.

Moonlight outlined the distinct shape of an Organoid. A stranger's bright green optics regarded him from the dark.

END