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Chapter Text

The guard was harshly throwing up voxels. Whoever thought it was a good idea to allow the sentries to make the drinks at End of Line should be derezzed.  

Tron City seemed a bit quiet this gloomy cycle. More sentries and guards appeared on the streets, patrolling for User sympathizers and strays. Civilians already retired to their residences to begin their sleep cycles. Clu looked beyond his window on the Throne Ship, which was currently stationed at the top of Admin Tower. A smile emerged from his face as he retracted his helmet, taking in the sights of his system. A pair of footsteps approached behind him, halting in unison. 

“Oh good. You two arrived earlier than expected.”

Clu turned and faced a pair of sentries whose faces were blank. Well…supposedly. These two were different from the other sentries and Clu can easily pick them out from his enormous army, even with their helmets on. Every sentry in his army performed their objectives as a collective hive mind but these two went above and beyond their programming. The last few stragglers of the Uprising were finally taken down. Their hideouts were completely compromised by these sentries and Clu couldn’t be prouder. The sentries were Pyra and Husk. Clu’s Dissonant Dyad.

“Remove your helmets,” Clu ordered. “And smile, man. You don’t know how pleased I am with you two.”

Without hesitation, the Dyad followed the Luminary’s command, revealing their faces. The bright orange irises were staring at Clu and their smiles were almost Cheshire. It was fascinating whenever Clu tweaked around with the sentry variants but after the Abraxas cycles, he had to resort to standard sentry template. Unlike the Dyad, sentries were rectified. All of their previous personalities were completely erased, and emotions eradicated. They were not only the infantry of the Occupation but also the mindless drones of Clu’s order. Without the helmets, sentries look like they’ve been experimented on with the amount of attached circuitry on the back of their heads. This attached circuitry dawned the fierce colors of the Occupation, stretching down from the back of the head towards the spine. In the center lies the Occupation insignia, branded into the neural systems and serving as the central hub of the sentry mind. For Clu, it wasn’t just a rectified disc to keep his army in order. He wanted every single one of them to look perfect, even if he had to make some extraordinary additions. 

“You two can relax,” laughed Clu. “I dismissed everyone else so I can speak with you two in private.”

“It’s always been written in our programming to stand at attention.”

“Yeah yeah, I know, Pyra but I cut you two off from the sentry network. 

“It’s been a tough adjustment, Your Excellency,” Husk replied. 

Clu approached the Dyad and patted their shoulders.

“I understand. You two are strong and it’ll go by quickly.”

He paced around them, chuckling.

“So, I have been considering this for a while now. Rarely have I ever given a program in my order this opportunity.” 

The Dyad curiously lifted their heads. 

“I would like to reward you two with some cycles off.”

The sentries gasped. 

“Yes, yes I know you two would rather derezz more User believers, but you have done enough to deserve a break.”

“We don’t want to miss the launch of the Rectifier,” Pyra whined. 

“You won’t,” Clu growled, causing the Dyad to tense up. “Think of it this way. I want you two to spend some time at the End of Line and come up with energy that we can all drink to.”

The smile on the Dyad’s faces widened, which satisfied Clu. Pyra was tense as her fists balled up. All of her previous memories about Castor made her want to throw her disc. She didn’t know why Clu had kept those in the first place instead of erasing them during the repurposing process. Husk can sense Pyra’s tension, grabbing her hand.

“I get to derezz him, right?” Pyra asked, doing her best not to trigger a circuit flare. 

“Clu needs him alive, Pyra.”

“Husk is correct. He plays a very important role in this initiative. It won’t be long until a User falls into my trap.”

Clu leaned close to Pyra, and she did not even think about flinching. 

“I know your past history and I understand your hatred, Pyra.”

Clu’s tone went cold. 

“You derezz him on the spot and I will put you both back on the network. Do you understand, sentry?”

“Yes sir,” Pyra immediately replied.

“Good. Enjoy your off cycles.”

The Dyad nodded and scurried out of the Throne Ship, placing their helmets back on in the process. Clu sighed and returned to staring at the view in front of him. The number of sentries on patrol was sufficient enough to maintain order. He had plenty of competitors for the Games, disposing of the unworthy strays and adding more to Rinzler’s derezz count.

A low purr could be heard from behind the ship’s entrance. Rinzler emerged, approaching Clu. The administrator smiled upon seeing his enforcer. Rinzler lowered his head, awaiting further instruction.

“It won’t be long until the Dyad returns."

Clu patted the enforcer’s shoulder, that Cheshire smile appeared on his face.

“Rinzler, I’m looking forward to a deadly, effortless performance from you in the Games.”

Chapter Text

Pyra and Husk walked through the streets of Tron City after their conversation with Clu. Gone were their sentry settings and their civilian settings came to play. This was a rarity for soldiers of the Occupation, but Pyra and Husk were a different case. With the two being Clu’s favorites, he allows them to go out to the city and promote his vision. Like most supporters of the Occupation, the Dyad wore highly flashy attire. Both their civilian settings consisted of long hooded leather jackets, decorated with their sentry circuitry and other Occupation engravings. Clu had these settings for the Dyad made by the elite designers in Bismuth. This made the Dyad well known and they were often the first programs to approach for any questions regarding joining the Occupation. 

Alpha Sector seemed packed than usual. Sentries often dominated the streets either on foot or on recognizers, but the Dyad were amazed at the number of residents out and about. 

“This must be a strong Games crowd,” Pyra whispered to Husk. 

“Everyone’s always looking forward to Rinzler.”

Husk looked ahead of the crowd, noticing a couple of sentries restraining three programs. A puddle of orange voxels surrounding the captives, two females and one male.

“Pyra?”

She could tell that her partner was concerned and glanced at the crowd. Pyra rolled her eyes. This isn’t the right time to deal with a rising group of User believers. 

“Those sentries have to be fresh out of the Rectifier.” 

“No kidding. They don’t last as many micros.”

A scream caused the two to halt. 

“It’s the Dyad!”

“Clear a path!”

Almost everyone, even the sentries that held the rebels noticed them. The crowd cleared a path, allowing Pyra and Husk to walk towards the rebelling programs. Husk chuckled. 

“This shouldn’t take long.”

“We have places to be and orders to follow. Ugh, why can’t some of them accept the perfect system.”

Pyra and Husk pulled down their hoods, eyes shining that fearsome orange. The programs didn’t even flinch as they began spewing countless amounts of profane language. 

“Where are your staffs, glitches?”

“Sentries? Yeah right. They’re weak, like the ones we derezzed.”

“Go ahead, you pieces of malware! Send us to the Games?”

Pyra laughed. These were nothing but pesky betas.

“Games?” she began. “Do you really think that this absurd, corrupt behavior is going to send you to be ripped apart by Rinzler?”

“So..amateurish of you to start a fight in the middle of a crowded city,” Husk added. “The Uprising is dead!”

“Clu will fall and so will his perfect army. He will throw you away, like he did to the Argon leaders.”

It was obvious for the Dyad to spot the leader of these three. Her words were quite harsh and insulting in the name of Clu. 

“Failure doesn’t have a place in the Occupation,” Husk explained, reaching for his baton. “They were handled accordingly and so will you three. We’ve taken down countless hideouts of you User believers and you will simply be added to the derezzing count.”

Husk unveiled his lightscythe, causing a number of gasps from the crowd. It took the form of a lightstaff but with the top replaced with a fearsome blade. Pyra followed suit and grabbed a pair of batons, revealing her Tronmahawks. These were a pair of smaller batons in Pyra's possession. The orange blades she held were shining in front of her enemies. This was new weaponry that the rebels weren’t expecting. The other two programs tried to fight the hold of their respected sentries, but the tight grip prevented them from escaping. 

Pyra went towards the captured program on the right. He could sense the heat of her weapons close to his throat. 

“Do you know what happens to those willing to stand against our great leader Clu?”

Without warning, Pyra sliced the head off the program. His voxels fell to the ground. The remaining rebels were expecting the crowd to run in fear but instead they remained, curious to see the rest of their downfall. Husk swung his scythe towards the second rebel and her voxels spilled onto the knees of the lead program. The Dyad can sense her fear. Clearly, she made a mistake.

“We put them in their place,” Husk finished. 

They circled the last rebel, like a duo of predators. She knew that this was going to be her end but yet she still had a few more words to get out of her processors. 

“I believe in the Users,” she screamed. “And I will fight for them like how Tron and the Renegade did.”

Pyra felt a gridbug crawling on her foot and withdrew her Tronmahawks, lifting it up to see it attempting to strike. She snickered at the little creature.

“You, my friend, are about to put on a show.”

Husk smiled. He could tell that Pyra was plotting something devious with that pest. He watched her hold the gridbug in front of the program, gently dangling it by the head.

“Now, I thought Husk and I would derezz you instantly once the crowd noticed us, but you forced our hand. There are…worse ways for a program to be derezzed than just by a disc, staff or byteblade. Husk, replace the sentry.” 

Her partner took hold of the program as the sentry stepped back. Pyra walked closer with the gridbug still in her possession. 

“As if a harmless little gridbug is going to derezz me.”

“You haven’t experienced the severe damage of their venom as I have,” growled Husk. 

“Some can carry different quantities of venom but this one right here. It’s just enough to demonstrate to the crowd.” 

Pyra’s smile was Cheshire. She squeezed the gridbug’s head, causing the venom to immediately shoot down the throat of the rebel. Husk released his grip on her, returning back to Pyra’s side. 

“It’s a shame that it had to be this way, really,” Husk stated. 

“You’re lucky that you have met your end at the Dyad’s hands rather than Clu or Rinzler,” added Pyra. “End of Line.”

The program began screaming as her eyes began flashing an assortment of colors. Error after error appeared in her eyes as the rest of the venom’s effects kicked in. All of her circuits began flashing simultaneously and she felt her processors concaving. Her screams continued to worsen, and she began violently puking out voxels. From this point, the program wished she didn’t lash out towards the Dyad yet here she was, derezzing in one of the worst ways possible. As what remained of her finally fell to the ground, the Dyad walked away. Everyone that witnessed the execution returned to what they were doing before. The crowd in the Dyad’s way cleared another path for them towards the End of Line. 

“That took longer than expected,” hissed Pyra. “I need a drink.”

0 0 1 0 0 1

The elevator took the Dyad to the top of the tower. All the constant flashing of lights and metronome heavy masterpieces that is the music identifying the popular End of Line club. The doors opened to reveal Castor with his bright smile.

“Well, if it isn’t my old competition,” Castor yelled, wrapping his arms around the sentries. “You two do certainly look stunning this cycle. It’s easy to identify when you aren’t basic sentries.”

Husk let out a chuckle. 

“Sentries can have a sense of fashion, you know. Don’t expect Pyra and I to keep that blank emotion function while we’re here.”

Gem entered from behind Castor with a smile. 

“Of course. Programs, even Clu’s soldiers can have some enjoyable memories here.”

“Well, we are the Dyad Division after all,” added Pyra. “Always perfect, well….maybe not Husk’s club shanties.”

Pyra received a shove from her partner, clearly annoyed with her playful insult.

“Allow me to escort you two to the bar.”

Gem motioned Pyra and Husk to follow her to the bar with Castor standing beside his rival. Pyra exchanged daggers with Castor.

“It’s quite nice to be the top club in Tron City,” began Castor. “Alias has no chance of surpassing my prestigious club.”

“I’d watch that tongue of yours, Castor. You know well that our energy is the finest on the Grid compared to yours.”

“Oh, did I anger you, dear Pyra?”

Pyra grunted and ignored his bragging. Oh, how she wanted to derezz him, but she knew the consequences from Clu if she did. 

“Nobody likes an angry sentry,” she whispered to herself. 

“You have definitely amped up the interior,” Husk chimed in while wrapping his arms around Pyra’s shoulders to calm her down. 

“I certainly have. Now what brings you two here? Shouldn’t you be standing guard on the Throne Ship?”

“Clu has given us a few cycles off so with our permissions,” Husk explained. “We thought it would be nice to spend a cycle here.”

“Feel free then,” Castor replied. “I’ll have Shaddix prep-”

“Uh uh,” Pyra interrupted. “We make our own.”

Husk let out a chuckle.

“You know us, Castor. Our beverages always outperform yours.”

The Dyad looked around the club, taking note of the attendees.

“These are some new faces. Maybe our drinks will satisfy the crowd.”

Castor scoffed.

“Be my guest. It would be interesting to see what you two can create ever since your repurposing.”

Pyra and Husk made their way to the bar, grabbing a few glasses of energy to begin mixing. The way that they tossed the bottles at each other through each pour drew the attention of the club. Castor’s bartenders observed from the far side bar, jealous of how efficient the Dyad were in making drinks. Even the DJ’s above played music that matched the rhythm. Pyra and Husk took opposite sides, serving each program a glass. As they took a sip, they were blown away from the extravagant flavors.

“Wow! These are perfect!”

“Now this is what Clu meant by perfection.”

“You put a couple Occupation programs behind the bar, and this is the result. Alias will always have the best energy, hands down.”

Castor was starting to get jealous. They were in his club, taking his clientele. These two were not only producing good drinks but helping Clu gain more support of his ideals. A black guard approached one of the empty barstools and took a seat, alerting the Dyad. The way he rested his elbow on the table caused Pyra to growl.

“Why is a black guard here,” hissed Husk. 

Pyra sighed.

“Not just a black guard, Husk. A black guard that I don’t want to deal with.”

“Oh, it’s him, isn’t it?”

“Odin…”

“What are you even going to do? Call him out?”

“I picked something up from that rebel and I think I might as well use it against him.”

Pyra approached Odin, handing him an empty glass.

“Well, well, well. Someone’s going to get demoted for sneaking out. Heh, even derezzed for a program of your caliber.”

“Those attitude functions of yours can get you back in a blank state,” the guard snapped. “How did you even know that it was me in the first place?”

“I’m good at catching annoying programs, like you.”

“Annoying? Please, you sentries are annoying.” 

“Again, with the sentry insults? You’re outdated for a guard.”

“Says the one who’s not even in her sentry armor.”

Husk was in the back, annoyed.

“Oh, for frag’s sake.”

Pyra gripped one of the glasses and pulled it back. The flaring started to surge within her circuits as she began to throw the glass. 

“Hold it!”

Castor grabbed Pyra’s wrist, pulling her away from the bar.

“Now I thought sentries were professional.”

“Not this one,” Pyra hissed. “He’s not even supposed to be here.” 

“Quite pushy, are we?”

“You don’t know Occupation drama, Castor. We kicked that guard’s a-"

“That profanity can result in deresolution," warned Castor.

“We may have picked up a few things from the Luminary.”

Castor eyed the glass. 

“Well, if you were planning to use that glass, I highly suggest using it to hold a drink rather than a weapon.”

Pyra let out a snicker.

“I do have a drink in mind for him.”

“May I add a suggestion?”

“For once, I will listen to you.”

“Perhaps this guard might need a little buzz.”

The last word caught Husk’s attention as he rushed to Pyra. Smiles emerged from their lips as they went back to the bar. Castor watched as the Dyad grabbed their energy mixers. He was pleased at how quick they started working.

“I hope you two enjoyed my suggestion,” he yelled. 

“Suggestion well received,” Husk replied. “This guard hasn’t experienced our creations before.”

They turned their backs to the crowd, wanting this drink to be a surprise. Pyra and Husk began pouring small drops of their mixers into the glass, swirling them around ever so gently to get the correct color. Husk spooned out a small amount of ice and tossed it into the glass as Pyra added a new wave of mixers. They glanced at each other, smiling at the progress. 

“Doesn’t this look amazing, Husk? Look how well it mixed.”

“This could be the drink we present to Clu. I mean, look at how the color matches the Occupation.”

“It’s perfect, but..”

Pyra paused. She had kept the gridbug from before, noticing the remaining venom stored in its head. 

“It’s just missing a splash of this.”

Pyra revealed the creature to Husk.

“Why did you keep it, Pyra? Don’t tell me you’re going to derezz him with that.”

“Oh no, it's for the drink. A little pinch of venom, when mixed correctly adds a kick to the flavor. Any program that consumes gridbug venom has to have it properly mixed. This drink is savory. No program should ever consume it at a fast pace or else the effects we saw with that User believer will happen, but the reactions would be mild. Taking care of those rebels did give me an idea.”

Husk grinned. 

“It is a savory energy beverage after all. Definitely Rectifier worthy.”

“Definitely.”

The Dyad were laughing as Pyra squeezed a small drop of venom on top of the drink. Odin moved his head around to see what they were doing. They turned to face him, with the drink in Pyra’s hands. She placed it on the table in front of Odin. 

“I heard you two laughing over there. There’s no way I’m drinking that.”

“Oh, come on, man cheer up,” whined Husk.

“Husk’s right, Odin. This is clearly a drink for Clu’s most elite soldiers.”

Odin was annoyed. 

“I may be a black guard, yet Clu treats you two like Rinzler and I get nothing.”

“Clu’s satisfaction is a greater result than failure, Odin,” Pyra replied “You’re fortunate that we’re being generous to you. Unless I explain to Clu that you derezzed your entire unit again.”

“You wouldn’t dare get rid of Onyx.”

Pyra laughed.

“Of course, I won’t. Now go ahead and drink.”

Odin eyed the glass, admiring the color. He had to remind himself that Pyra and Husk used to be club owners before their repurposing. The presentation was above and beyond what he was used to drinking. Odin then lifted the glass and began chugging the drink. The Dyad gasped and Pyra immediately pulled the glass away from Odin. 

“Odin, you bitbrain!”

Chapter Text

"Odin, you bitbrain!"

The guard seemed puzzled at their panic. All he did was consume a well-crafted energy beverage and he was amused at how good it tasted. Odin watched Pyra pace around at a fast pace while Husk tried to calm her down. Whatever got the sentries upset was pleasing to Odin. He didn’t give an absolute frag. Pyra faced him, a scowl painted on her face. 

“What the frag? You shouldn't have done that, Odin.”

“Do you think I would listen to you? No. I was trying to prove a point.”

“A point?” Husk snapped. “That’s a drink you were supposed to savor.”

“Well, you two made a fragging good drink. No wonder why Clu kept those settings on your disc.”

Odin felt his fingers starting to twitch. Everything around him was starting to change hues as an error message appeared in his system. The Dyad noticed Odin’s eyes and huddled together. 

“We need to get out of here,” hissed Pyra. “This drink is a great idea; however, some programs don’t like to listen to instruction.”

“Clu will be aware of the brawl downtown as well.”

Husk handed a baton over to Pyra. 

“And I personally don’t want to take the elevator nor another recognizer escort.”

Pyra snorted.

“You clever, clever sentry. Let's move.” 

They began tiptoeing to the club’s patio, only to be greeted by Castor and Gem. The owner tapped Pyra’s shoulder, laughing. 

“So, this is what you meant by a buzz. Quite smart, I must say. I took a glance at the guard’s eyes, and they had an interesting reaction.”

The Dyad were laughing nervously as they walked towards the ledge of the building. 

“Oh, you know,” replied Husk. “That’s how our drinks work.”

Back at the bar, Odin covered his mouth as he felt something rise from his processors. More error messages appeared in all sorts of different colors. He didn’t have control of what was happening. Odin swore he felt a gridbug crawling in his mouth and immediately spat on the ground. It was a single voxel, but it wasn’t of his own circuitry. 

“What the? Those two wil–”

Odin felt himself starting to gag. The programs at the bar screamed and backed away from Odin. The guard was harshly throwing up voxels. Whoever thought it was a good idea to allow the sentries to make the drinks at End of Line should be derezzed. Pyra and Husk noticed a few programs leaving the bar. They looked at each other, noting that this was the cue to leave. Batons in hand, the Dyad dove off the End of Line rezzing up their lightjets to head back to Clu, leaving Castor to clean up after Odin. 

0 0 1 0 0 1

Odin found himself in the Occupation’s med wing. He felt disgusted, ashamed of his behavior but then again, a majority of it wasn’t his own doing. A medic program next to the recovering guard was reconfiguring his disc to eliminate the damages caused by the drink. Odin’s secondary guard, Onyx towered above her squad leader, chuckling. 

“Heard you had quite a cycle, sir.” 

“Don’t,” Odin growled. “Just don’t.”

He took a breath. 

“How did I even get back here?”

“Castor sent a distress beacon to the entire black guard division, and we came and retrieved you.”

Odin let out a cough. 

“Thanks. And Onyx?”

The female guard immediately went to attention, sensing Odin’s foul mood. 

“Sir?”

“If I see those sentries again, I’m going to derezz them, bit by bit. They did this to me.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t their intention.”

“Are you? Are you disagreeing with me?”

“They were following orders after all, as all soldiers of the Occupation do.”

Odin and Onyx froze upon hearing the voice. Jarvis had entered the room, data pad in hand. His face was full of disappointment as he stared at the recovering guard. Odin mumbled swears under his breath, complaining that Clu forced him and Onyx to primarily report to the intelligence officer. Jarvis looked at the medic. 

“How close is this guard to being fully repaired?”

“98 percent. All venom has been deleted from his system”

“Excellent.” 

Jarvis eyed the two before returning to his data pad. 

“You two better get going. The Rectifier’s launch is in a few micros.”

“Of course,” replied Onyx. 

“And you, guard?” 

Odin froze. He could sense the viral venom in Jarvis’s tone. 

“I’m very disappointed with your professionalism. Black guards are supposed to be elite. Once the Rectifier is launched, you will be among the first to be rectified.”

The guard lowered his head.

“Rectified?” Onyx asked. “Is that a different process from repurposing?”

“It will be described in full detail at the launch. Let’s just say that it’s a painful process and the next wave of soldiers…..let’s just say that only 25% of the face will remain.”

Onyx gasped. She didn’t want to go further into the conversation and nodded after Jarvis’s explanation.

“His Excellency has planned some celebratory beverages for this memorable occasion,” Jarvis continued. “I do have to say, the energy is beyond perfection, and it’s made by none other than Clu’s Dyad.”

Odin felt his CPU stopping as Jarvis mentioned that name. He was not looking forward to taking another drink from them. The intelligence officer walked towards the exit, head turning back towards Odin and Onyx.

“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you two there.” 

“We’ll be there, sir,” replied Onyx. 

They watched Jarvis leave and Odin felt his disc being returned to its port. He hissed as all of his memories returned to his system. 

“You’ve been fully repaired. Enjoy the celebration.”

Odin nodded and thanked the medic. Onyx helped him off the table and they left the room. They could hear the rising commotion from the halls, flooding with conversations about the launch. Odin rezzed up his helmet, hiding his face from the programs he and Onyx passed by. He managed to pick up a few conversations from a few sentries. 

“I heard the End of Line was providing exclusive drinks for everyone at the launch.”

“Exclusive? Then again, we are the Occupation.”

“Yes, and this is the drink that the Dyad presented to Clu.”

“They call it the buzzkill. Rumor has it was inspired from the execution the Dyad performed downtown. Heh, those rebel programs got what they deserve.” 

Odin sighed as he and Onyx continued to walk down the hall. He was definitely not looking forward to witnessing a voxel vomit river on Clu’s newest ship.

0 0 1 0 0 1

Clu stood on the podium in his regal robes, earning all the cheers from his soldiers and loyalists. Rinzler stood below the great leader, discs at the ready if somehow a rebel were to sneak in to ruin the launch. The Dyad were back in their sentry armor guarding Clu from behind. They were just as alert as Rinzler. Jarvis had been stationed behind the Dyad next to a series of buttons that would initiate the Rectifier. 

Odin and Onyx were at the back of the crowd, only able to glance at the holographic screens to see the luminary. The older guard noticed a bartender standing next to him with two drinks on his tray. Onyx grabbed the buzzkill glasses and thanked him. She handed Odin one of the glasses.

“I know you’re not going to consume it but just hold on to it.”

“Yes, yes, I know, Onyx. I’m not prepared for what’s about to happen in the next few micros though.”

They stopped their conversation as Clu raised his hands, resulting in more chanting from the crowd. 

“Greetings Programs!”

The crowd immediately died down.

“Let this be known that this is not only a celebration of our newest ship but also a major advantage to the next frontier. The Rectifier will provide us with a new, updated version of the repurposing process. All programs who undergo this process will be just as perfect as Rinzler. No more of those petty emotions that the User issued us at our creation. These programs will be easy to control, thus asserting my control of this system.”

Clu could sense the tension from the crowd. These may be his loyal arsenal of programs, but they have to be reminded of who’s orders they follow. 

“Let us focus on the launch of our glorious vessel. Let us savor this victory by savoring this beverage.”

The administrator raised his glass, causing everyone to repeat his motion.

“Death to the Users,” Clu yelled. 

“Death to the Users!”

The echoes of the Occupation’s war cry were indeed loud for all to hear. Everyone took a small, savory sip of the energy and were blown away from the taste. Microcycles passed and nobody ended up with a similar reaction like Odin. The guard threw his glass on the floor, watching it shatter. This is not only a celebratory cycle of the Rectifier’s launch. This is the cycle where Odin realized that he became the unluckiest guard in the Occupation. 

“Oh, come on!”