"We finally found something a bit meatier." (Xenoblade Chronicles 3) [Drabbles and Short Stories]

[Ultra Sonic 007]

i would love to see you eventually write the main story (your take on XBC3) that this short story set is the side piece to.

Click to shrink...

Short version: This short story collection is meant to be compliant with the canonical game as presented (for the most part).

Long version (spoilers lie ahead for numerous parts of the game, but y'all should know this by now): Basically, every single short story and ficlet I've written for this collection is meant to be as canon-compliant as possible, and are usually done with the intent of explaining something in the story that was otherwise unexplained, or to showcase events that wouldn't break the plot. I try to avoid 'head-canoning' as much as possible.

For example: why did Consul M choose Ghondor of all people to give the Cloudkeep's Key to?

My answer: M chose Ghondor because she was a Vandham, a descendant of her grandson from many generations past; thus, there is a sentimental and familial connection. (Even if it's 'technically' a headcanon, the statue of House Vandham's founder is observed as having physical similarities to Noah; in like manner, the founder of House Doyle is strongly, if not explicitly, implied to have been the Vandham founder's sister. Hence, it's implied that Houses Doyle and Vandham are of a past Noah and Mio's bloodline.)

Another example: why did Ghondor change her mind regarding 'killing the now' between Li Garte Prison and the ending cutscenes of XC3?

My answer: make up a cutscene that would still portray the themes of the story as presented, while still explaining Ghondor's apparent change of heart.

Another example: why are there apparently two Swords of Origin (the one that N has, and the other held by Noah)?

My answer: N's was the original, forged with the assistance of Melia herself. Lucky Seven was forged in secret many generations later, intended to be a replica of that mighty Blade.

Another example: after a certain point, the idea of 'fast travel' just wouldn't make any sense. So given the time constraints Ouroboros is operating under, how would they make it back to the Pentelas, Fornis, and lower Aetia Regions to complete the quests that only become available as of Chapter 5 and onwards?

My answer: have Triton be their means of fast travel, using his ability as a Moebius to warp places.

And so on and so forth.

Some are a bit cracky (like the 28th installment, which was written solely to explain why the obligatory Nopon named Bana was nowhere to be seen in the game; my answer being that generations of Bana Nopon have operated off of the Bionis's horn, controlling the black market far away from the battlefields of Aionios), but each one could feasibly be inserted into the game and nothing would change.

The only exceptions are the bits with Nia and Melia; for gameplay reasons, their quests are post-game only, as the surprise of them fighting alongside you during the final boss would have been spoiled. However, narratively, these quests had to have taken place before Ouroboros defeated Z. Thus, my changes were as follows:

- For Nia: simply have her accompany Ouroboros after she's woken up, as they travel the world to collect the particular Origin shards needed to upgrade Samon's ship. Naturally, they do quests and events along the way, eventually returning Nia to Agnus Castle before commencing their first invasion of Origin.

- For Melia: instead of instantly teleporting away like she did in the game, she collapses due to ether depletion after her long imprisonment (in an intentional echo to how Shulk and Company found her in the first game). Deprived of any options, Ouroboros decides to retreat aboard a City Levnis (because realistically, Ouroboros wouldn't otherwise be leaving Origin upon entering it; 'fast travel' exists solely for gameplay purposes, because no way they're getting Samon's ship back out of there!) to bring Melia back to Keves Castle. (Origin, naturally, stops attacking, because Z and Moebius are interested in seeing how Melia reacts to the world she's been away from for so long.) From there, they would do Melia's various quests, along with any other final quests left undone; after which, Ouroboros commences the second (and final) assault on Origin, wherein they fight X, Y, and Z sequentially.

As such, the timeline of events would be as follows:

Given what's implied in the game, there's an unknown period of time where — after Aionios is created, and an indeterminate amount of people are awoken outside of Origin — Nia and Melia are operating against Moebius, after which Melia is captured by Z (thus allowing Moebius to manipulate the world according to their own designs, thanks to their control over Origin). It's implied that Nia is actually awake and operating in some fashion (for how long is unknown, but it was at least long enough for the first City to come into being at Hope's Rest before it was destroyed by N) before going to sleep in the Cloudkeep, because she doesn't do so until Consul M exists as an entity (and we know there are at least some prior instances of Mio that existed before M did). This aggregate amount of time between Z's capture of Melia and the beginning of the game is definitely longer than a thousand years, though; because the false Nia, at the end of chapter 5, remarks about she's had 999 souls sent up to her over the past thousand years by the off-seers. However, we know from details in Noah's Side Story and Ashera's Ascension Quest that the Homecoming event prior to the Off-Seer Ceremony was a simple execution, so the existence of the false queens stems back even further.

It goes without saying that a lot of the installments released have flashbacks which cover events that occurred during this nebulous period prior to the main plot.

Chapters 1 through 5 more or less occur as normal, with the exception being that Ouroboros can't really leave Cadensia Region due to the time limit Mio has with her impending Homecoming; as such, any side quests and Ascension Quests in prior regions that only become available as of Chapter 5 are left untouched. Certain installments occur in this period without much in the way of interrupting the plot, since they occur in the gaps between quests and plot events.

After Chapter 6 begins, some quests local to Agnus Castle and Cadensia are completed prior to Ouroboros heading to Colony Omega, where they free Miyabi, Mwamba, Hackt, Cammuravi, and the other soldiers resurrected by Moebius Y. Since they accompany Cammuravi back to the City (wherein smol!Ethel wakes up), the reality of having so many calls for assistance weighs on them; as such, the events of the 21st installment occur, where Triton is chosen as the means by which Ouroboros can fast travel. They complete lots of side quests over a few weeks before returning to Colony Omega...wherein, before heading to the Cloudkeep, they get ambushed by Segiri. Cue more quests (including the final scene from the 27th installment, wherein I used the four 'Unique Monster' Agnian assassins that show up where Colony 15's Ferronis is as an actual bit of a drama bait for Triton, since it's implied those four killed two of Triton's crew) before they finally get to the Cloudkeep, where the ending of Chapter 6 proceed as normal.

With the beginning of Chapter 7, and the realization that Ouroboros needs to locate specific Origin shards to complete the ship upgrades they need to breach the Ocean Vortex, Nia accompanies them on their 'world tour' instead of hanging back at the Cloudkeep. Numerous quests occur during this timeframe (like Ghondor's Ascension Quest, Sena's Side Story, and some of the other quests that only become available as of chapter 7), along with some events I've conjured up in the interim (like the most recent installment). Ouroboros invades Origin, rescues Melia, completes the remainder of the quests (complete with other events I've made up, like the final scene of the 9th installment, where Eunie gifts Taion a kit to clean his glasses with), then finally invades Origin a second time to complete the main story.

And voila!

Hope this explained things.

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Note: This snippet came to me after reading Scion by SuperNerd92. A brief little something to hold people over while I'm working on the next 'The Long Month' installment.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 5, after Gray's Ascension Quest, but before Ouroboros sneaks into Li Garte Prison/

/The City, Atop the Great Sword, Cadensia Region/

Rozana, for such a gregarious woman, was a strangely private individual.

As such, Monica couldn't quite fault herself for not realizing that Rozana was married; she had no familial connection to the Six Houses, so her love life (and likewise Gray's) would have lacked the public notoriety of someone's from Rhodes, Ortiz, Vandham, and so forth.

Still...Monica couldn't help but feel a bit hurt, that Rozana hadn't talked to her about it.

As such — with Broo, Yarmil, and the other hardliners having been temporarily incarcerated until their punishment could be determined by the Senate (because not even Garrett was going to defend someone who had conspired to steal the City's entire stock of Levnises as part of a military coup...well, maybe he might have, had they not been caught beforehand. The leader of House Doyle was a stubborn yet complex individual) — Monica decided to satisfy her own curiosity.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tO_wBSxStl8

Rozana was outside the War Room, staring out at the great expanse around the Great Sword's hilt; her focus seemed to be on the old husks lying below: corpses from a battle that had occurred long before they were born. "You sure like to surprise people, Rozana."

The redhead turned her crimson gaze towards Monica, her eyes giving off a twinkle of amusement. "You knew I'd been working to stop the hardliners by getting within their circle. You were there when your father signed off on this secret mission, after all."

"Not what I was talking about," retorted Monica, crossing her arms.

Rozana's smile turned into a small frown. "...this is about Gray, isn't it?"

"The fact you got married was...surprising."

Rozana huffed, resting her right elbow in her left palm so she could rest her chin on her right hand. "It's not like we kept it a secret. Some of my neighbors knew, if only because they asked about why Gray came to my place every so often."

Monica huffed right back at her. "It's the fact you didn't tell me that's the issue."

"You never asked," she glibly replied. "I suppose it just...never came up."

"...he was probably my father's closest friend, growing up." Even though Gray hadn't been a member of that generation's Ouroboros candidates (for whatever that had been worth; the City had been going on a dry spell of decades since the last Stone had been found, until her father had discovered the most recent one), the lone gunman had somehow established a connection with her old man that Guernica hadn't had with his fellow candidates. Hell, there had been a brief stretch where she had called the man 'Uncle Gray' growing up. "It's a little strange to see him in a relationship with one of my friends."

Rozana seemed amused. "Oh? Are you a fuddy-duddy in matters of romance? Perhaps you and the conservatives have more in common than I thought."

Monica blew off the riff with a scoff. "You can't exactly blame me, can you? He's got...what, three decades on you?"

"That'd be right." Rozana turned away, looking back at the ancient battlefield with a stoic expression. "If it helps, I'm the one who pursued him; he's a rather hard nut to crack. But...in the end, we're rather similar on the most important thing."

"And that would be?"

"A sense of purpose: to know what has to be done, no matter what it costs you as an individual...and commit to it. It's why he can stomach being by himself, even for months at a time."

And why you could calmly betray those you spent five years getting to know, it went unsaid.

(On that day, over five years ago, when the matter of the hardliners' increasing aggression had become too pressing to ignore, Guernica had wondered as to why Rozana volunteered to undertake a secret mission to infiltrate them...especially in light of her many friends amongst the conservatives' ranks. Her answer had engraved itself in Monica's memory: "I'm an engineer. I hate seeing things go to waste, whether it be materials...or people. Those hotheads have passion, and are driven to do what they think is right...even if it tears the City in two. It's just so...inefficient.")

It was strange, realizing in retrospect, that — in spite of her relative youth — Rozana could be just as ruthless as Gray...albeit in different ways. "...it's still odd, thinking of Gray as being romantically involved with anyone."

Rozana honestly seemed shocked. "Really? I'm surprised you never noticed; he's been a friend of your family for long enough."

"He certainly never indicated it one way or the other," she replied with a half shrug.

"...well, I guess that's just one other area where he and I are alike," murmured Rozana with a fond smile.

"That being?"

"Saying a lot without speaking anything at all."

Monica wondered at just what it was that Gray said without speaking; was it Rozana's insight as an engineer that allowed her to decipher him? Or was it something simpler than that? Maybe I'm just too focused on the big picture to see what's right in front of me...

xxxx

The very next day, when Gray was debriefing with Monica in the War Room about another matter...she decided to ask him. "So. You and Rozana, hm?"

"Hmm," Gray affirmed with a grunt.

"...you never told me."

"You never asked," he blithely replied.

"I bet you told my father, though."

Gray crossed his arms before calmly replying, "Guernica was my witness."

Monica threw up her hands. "Glad to know that my father didn't tell me about one of my friends getting married to the man I called 'Uncle' as a little girl."

Gray huffed, his eyes staring intently at her; a sign that he was gathering his words. "Guernica...was never one to engage in gossip himself. 'Plenty enough to go around as is without me adding to it,' he'd say."

"...true enough," relented Monica. "...well, even if I'm apparently years late to finding out...congratulations."

Gray looked at her as though she were being an idiot. "Our...relationship...is plain as day."

"Your definition of 'plain as day' is very different from mine."

"Hrmm...no wonder you haven't seen how he looks at you," he murmured.

xxxx

Meanwhile, aboard the Boundary — churning onward through Erythia Sea, carrying Ouroboros and Ghondor's fellow Candidates — Jansen suddenly sneezed.

"Ugh, you got your mess on my wings!" cried Eunie with dismay.

"Sorry," he sincerely apologized, gratefully accepting a tissue from Taion.

xxxx

"What was that?" asked Monica, not catching his words.

Gray simply grunted. "Just remember to keep your eyes open. Otherwise, you'll get caught off guard by something you should've seen coming."

"...I'll keep that in mind," said Monica with a curious expression.

xxxx

(Weeks later, as Monica received Jansen's incredibly unexpected confession of love whilst on Corne Island, the image of Rozana chuckling and Gray shaking his head inexplicably came to mind.)

xxxx

Author's Notes: Given how Monica was gobsmacked by Jansen's declaration of love to her at the end of Monica's Ascension Quest, I'm going with the idea the Monica — Elder of the City, too busy with conducting military and governmental affairs — is just blind when it comes to romantic affections within her immediate circle.

Eunie: "You know, for all your wisdom when it comes to explainin' human nature to us, you're kind of clueless yourself on some things!"

Ghondor: "Hah! She's got you there."

Eunie: "It ain't a bad thing! It makes you...relatable, I guess is the word?"

Monica: *refuses to dignify the point with a response*

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/Colony 4, Eagus Wilderness, Fornis Wilderness/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnQl4DvujYk

The sandstorm fit Colony 4's overall mood: dim, and choked.

Fitting, for a Colony without a commander.

xxxx

It had been mere hours after the climactic battle in Engardo Pass...not that Bolearis had known.

He had only just made the long trek on foot through the Maktha Wildwood; only after passing by Colony Lambda and making it to the Urayan mountains had he felt safe enough to call for a Levnis from Colony 4.

It was whilst in mid-air, sitting within the fuselage, that he had received a message on his Iris: one from none other than Noah, quiet and subdued.

Somehow...he had known. He'd had a feeling, when Ethel had commanded him to return to Colony 4, that he would not be seeing her again. Even so...it had hurt.

(Noah had been contrite; even hurt, having to tell the awful truth, that Ethel and Cammuravi had killed each other with their final blows. He was even more apologetic, that he wasn't able to tell them in the person. "It's fair enough," he had said, trying to console the dark-haired swordsman. "You lot have that Annihilator to wreck, don't you? We'll...hold down the fort, until you can come pay your respects in person." It had gone without saying that, if Ouroboros failed, Colony 4 would be destroyed before they could ever return to debrief him about Ethel's last stand.)

Bolearis's mood had been impossible to ignore; the pilot had only looked at him with a concerned eye, as his expression curdled into something akin to grief.

Upon disembarking at Colony 4...it hadn't taken long for the truth to come out.

xxxx

That had been about half a month ago; alas, Colony 4 had not had much time to themselves to even mourn.

The sandstorm season had hit earlier than normal, gumming up their Ferronis and their Levnises; their days had been spent cleaning dust and grit out of the machinery, ensuring the ether filters were clean, and things of that nature. It was as if the world itself had come to a crawl, keeping them from thinking about the loss of their beloved Silvercoat.

(The only bright spot had been both figurative and literal; from far beyond the Urayan Mountains, a small part of the horizon had briefly shined as brilliantly as the sun. Cut off from Keves Castle as they were, it was only thanks to the Nopon Caravan that they found out about the Annihilator's destruction.)

Without the proverbial guillotine hanging over their head, the sense of anxiety had faded...leaving only the dull monotony of grief.

(Even reaching out to Ethel's old sister-in-arms, Orsolya, had been unsuccessful...and he had no idea why. Was it because Colony 5's Flame Clock was still active? Whatever the reason...it made his sense of isolation grow.)

Hence why his current 'visitor' was so...unwelcome.

"Come now..." remarked the Consul, his cape's collar lined with fur. "...you seem rather unhappy with my presence," remarked the man who had introduced himself as 'D'.

Bolearis, uncertain as to what the man's presence signified, sighed with trepidation. He didn't come in through our front door; he just teleported into my...Ethel's...office. While I'm alone, with no one around. (The thought of being killed almost seemed like a relief. Almost. It would have at least ended this bout of feeling like a useless mudder.) "Not trying to be rude, sir. It's just that...well, things went a tad topsy the last time a Consul visited our Colony."

"Ah. K. That sorry sod," scoffed D, crossing his arms. "Relied too much on his mastery of your Flame Clock. Made him a bit too one-dimensional, too unwilling to embrace the moment in its fullness...what irony, am I right?"

"...you seem remarkably candid about our circumstances, Consul," remarked Bolearis. There was a strange tension in the air, as though he were just a hair's width away from losing his head. "Was Ethel's sterling service not enough?"

D actually laughed. "You wouldn't be saying that if you actually knew how her last fight finally went down. P and O sure didn't appreciate it...I could feel their anger through the ether. Personally? I think Ethel and Cammuravi's final moments were a thing of beauty. Especially on the big screen."

"The...big screen?" Bolearis confusedly repeated.

"A Moebius inside joke," he slyly said, the tassels on the end of his helm's horns dangling with each movement. "I'm the kind of guy who savors the moment where life reaches its peak...that sole, transcendent, moment. K never understood that...was too busy trying to string things along, making his games last to the point where the fun's just gone. Would you believe he actually had his own personal soldier dedicated to painting, of all things? As though mere colors on a canvas could ever match the sheer intensity of life at its sweetest."

"...I suppose so," quietly said Bolearis. "If you don't mind my asking...why exactly are you here?"

D chuckled, his eyes taking on a certain gleam: mirthful, yet menacing. "Well, you 'liberated' Colonies have been having quite a lark, trying to live lightly, without fighting each other," he joked, as though the whole proposition was funny. "Honestly, I'm tempted to just let you all play around for a while...what's the harm, when it's all about to come crashing down?"


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-d32yrnHbA

Bolearis frowned; the mood had suddenly turned. "How do you mean?"

"Your Ouroboros pals? They've been captured by Agnus Castle. When the Eclipse comes about, in a few weeks from now? They're all gonna be executed. And this little 'rebellion'...will come to a sputtering halt."

...it can't be. (Ethel had thrown her lot in with them. They couldn't be that close to losing it all, could they?!) "You're bluffing," he impulsively said.

D cackled with glee. "Ah, you're starting to feel the despair, aren't you? That's the ultimate reality of this world: the Colonies are Moebius's to do with as we please. It's not the first time Ouroboros got it in their heads to liberate some Colonies and try to 'free the world'...and what did they accomplish? Nothing. Every time Ouroboros has reared its head, Moebius inevitably stomped them down...through the weight of our boot, or the sheer inevitability of time: as everlasting as the Flame Clock itself." Leaning in close, D glared into his eyes, pinning him in place with a look. "So keep doing whatever it is you maggots have been doing. Your squirming will eventually get boring, and someone will come along to cut you down...or maybe you'll let slip the fact to your mates that Ouroboros got captured? Maybe you lot will get some sparks lit under your arses, and try something gloriously stupid. Doesn't matter to me...either way, your Colony's doomed. But I'll let you be the one to decide how it'll die."

"...you snuffin' bastard," snarled Bolearis, trying not to scream at just how bloody unfair it all was.

D huffed, looking at his clenched fists, and then at his face...until, with a sigh, he backed away. "Not your best look. Guess that's what I get for trying to catch lightning in a bottle...oh, but before I go." D leered at him, looking terribly amused. "Ethel and Orsolya...they were close comrades, weren't they? So close, that their Colonies even shared the same rank...at least, until you lot got kicked into the mud. As for Colony 5...well, they ain't Silver anymore..."

Bolearis blinked; was that why he hadn't heard from her? "Did Orsolya and her men...get knocked down to Dirt...?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. There's no fun in laying everything out...so what'll it be? Look into saving Ouroboros? Look into Orsolya? Or just wallow in this wretched dump and die in misery? Either way's fine with me," said D, turning away with a derisive scoff. "After all, I've seen sacks of shit with more pep than you've got." With that last bit of mockery, he warped away.

Bolearis just stood there, waiting to see if D would come back and actually finish him off.

One minute. Two minutes. Three. Four. Finally, after five minutes, he slumped back down into the seat that had once been Ethel's, feeling way too small for the chair and the role. Equipment getting all gummed up by the sand...Noah and the others, being executed...can't get into contact with Orsolya...and Colony 4's apparently on Moebius's chopping block, no matter what we do...eh? Spark me...

He could never recall ever feeling so overwhelmed in the days of the Flame Clock, even after days of nonstop fighting; the utter exhaustion of constant battle at least had possessed the catharsis of bloody motes recharging his inner flame. Now? Now...he just felt tired...old...and alone. Commander Ethel...I'm trying to carry on...but what would you do, when everything's so snuffed up...?

(The answer would not come for a while.)

With no answer forthcoming, Bolearis simply buried his head into his hands, wondering if the stress of it all would ever end.

xxxx

D strolled through the nearby desert with a grin. Ah...what a lovely look that peon had, he mused, feeling at least somewhat mollified. A poor consolation prize...still can't believe that stoic bastard L won the lots to cull Colony 5. Another Gold-ranked Colony, ripe for plucking. Oh well...there'll always be time for another go. A shame, that he was a Kevesi Consul for the next few generations; he would have liked to have been present to watch Ouroboros bite the big one. (The fact that N had pulled rank to serve as Keves's representative for the execution? That was just icing on the whole snuffin' cake.)

How fortunate that he was in the area nearby his...collection. The boost to his mood was just what the doctor ordered.

With the waxing moon hovering in the sky, D strolled through the desolate wastes, winding through an old and forgotten canyon; as the sight of an old Ferronis Hulk loomed, its doors opened because of his mere presence. He ignored the nearest cylinders — each one carrying a preserved head — and looked for one in particular. "...ah. There you are." Grinning madly, D stared at the decapitated head: mouth wide with terror, eyes seemingly frozen with fright. "You've got much better expressions...I wonder if you can be pushed to give a better one?" Perhaps another project to look into, once the matter of the winged bitch and her fellow Ouroboros mongrels were put to bed. "We'll see..."

The head — belonging to a Bolearis from another time long past — said nothing.

"...yes, we will see," hissed D with glee.

xxxx

D would be sorely disappointed, for more than one reason. But the story of his comeuppance has already been told.

Instead...one must wonder, how Bolearis got out of his little hole.

Suffice to say, he wasn't alone.

xxxx

It was a few days after that chance encounter — with no headway made with the matters concerning either Ouroboros or Orsolya — when Bolearis got an Iris message from an unexpected individual. "Commander Zeon?"

"I hope circumstances find you well, Lieutenant Bolearis," diplomatically said Zeon.

"...eh, could be better, could be worse." Trying to maintain his composure, he asked, "How can I help you?"

"Given that Colony 30 is your nearest Kevesi neighbor, I was hoping if I could trouble you to get a connection between me and their Commander."

"With Commander Valdi? Whatever for?"

Zeon, looking uncharastically nervous, simply said, "Well...let's just say that I've received an intriguing proposition about how to help some mutual acquaintances of ours..."

"...I'm listenin'."

xxxx

Author's Note: To be continued with the next 'Long Month' installment.

/also, poor Brolearis
//he just wants to be a bro

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Some things are left unshown for the sake of letting the imagination run wild.

("You lot, why're you making that stuff out here?" asked Lanz, looking quietly at Mio, Sena, and Manana. "Colony's got a perfectly good kitchen.")

Others...well, a simple change is all it would take to fill in the gap...

(With a nervous chuckle, Mio added, "Out of commission, apparently." Without even looking at Sena, she added, "Somebody made a real mess of the place.")

...so why not?

("Wha? Hold on a sec!" protested Sena. "I...if we hadn't done what we did, chances are we would've all been dead by now!")

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 3, during the battle between Lambda's Ferronis and Ouroboros/

/Colony Lambda, Great Cotte Falls, Pentelas Region/

Within the innards of Lambda's tortoiselike Ferronis, two Nopon winced at the constant sounds of ether cannons going off. "Meh meh," murmured a Nopon with lime-colored fur. "Who is Colony going bashy bashy on?" he asked, in the midst of looking through a pantry full of military rations and other foodstuffs.

"Yukiki," whined a Nopon with purple fur, "why we hiding in Ferronis? Colony Rules say-"

"Visiting Consul give me upset stomach," Yukiki retorted. "Little guypon, but give off nasty feeling! Course of action called for emergency snack!"

"Meh...you know how Tonya get frowny-frowny when leave post!"

"Post not left! Simply away for little while." As Yukiki emerged from the pantry with ingredients to make a pastry, he asked, "And if worry so much, why Erieri follow?"

Erieri huffed, resting her wing-hands on her hips. "Because Yukiki get told off too much for going crazy in the canteen! Erieri simply on lookout. And like snarling Gogol," she said, gesturing at the rumbling walls around them, "you got us in right big mess!"

Yukiki huffed. "Mess not my fault! Who was to know that Big Turters would turn on and trap innocent Nopon inside?"

"And that another thing, Tonya's told you to stop calling Ferronis 'Big Turters'-"

"It nickname of legendary yet heroic monsterpon! Ferronis should be proud to have such a name-" Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to tilt. "Meh?!"

(Outside, Sena's newly unlocked Ouroboros form lifted the Ferronis upward by its foot...only to suddenly thrust it upward...)

"World go turvy-topsy!" shrieked Erieri as the entirety of the kitchen went at a sharp angle; numerous cabins opened up, as food, utensils, and cookware fell out.

(...and then, with the swing of her hammer, Sena knocked the Ferronis further off balance...)

The two Nopon were temporarily suspended in the air as the entire kitchen seemed to shake and rattle around them, leaving a right mess of things.

(...until, with a thunderous thud, it landed on its back.)

Yukiki and Erieri both landed hard on the ceiling, which was now the ground; with a sharp and mighty clatter, pots and pans crashed onto the ground, while canisters containing flour, grains, herbs, spices, sauces, and food prep materials burst open.

"...Yukiki lie down now," murmured the weary Nopon, his eyes looking like swirls.

"Erieri agree," she moaned.

Clearly, the proper response to unexpected chaos was to take an emergency nap.

xxxx

It wasn't until an hour later — after the dramatic revelation that Consul J was in fact Joran — that Ouroboros began looking into the unconscious denizens of Colony Lambda.

Mio had volunteered to look into the overturned Ferronis, because it was not impossible that some soldiers would have been inside at the time Joran had seemingly knocked the entire Colony out of commission.

She didn't find any knocked out soldiers, thankfully.

What she did find, however, was a right mess. "Ooh," muttered Mio, gently looking into the upside-down canteen. "This is going to be a right mess to clean up..." As if in response to her voice, two voices stirred. "Hello? Is someone in there?!" she called out.

From behind a pile of fallen cookware, Nopon with lime and purple fur respectively waddled out. "...this not Yukiki's fault," immediately said the former.

"Nor Erieri's! No passing of rotten mushrooms here, we swear!" exclaimed the latter.

"...uh, okay...you're not hurt, are you?" asked Mio.

"Yukiki is unfazed!"

Erieri didn't answer, instead looking at her with curiosity. "Oh. Who kittypon? You not from around Colony."

"Ah. You could call me...a visitor, I guess?"

Yukiki immediately yelled, "Then as new visitor, be sure to tell Commander that this whole mess was fault of Big Turters!"

"Would not be in middle of mess if you not sneak out!" protested Erieri.

As the two Nopon began bickering in front of her, Mio merely tilted her head with confusion. Well, I guess they're all right...makes me glad that Riku and Manana are so calm and level-headed by comparison. In the back of her mind, she chalked up the Colony's canteen as a lost cause, and made a mental note to get out the big stew pot later that evening...

xxxx

Needless to say, it would eventually be deemed a more efficient use of resources to fabricate a whole new canteen instead of trying to salvage the mess that was the Ferronis's internal kitchens.

xxxx

Author's Note: So this one is a bit of an odd duck, I'll admit. My original idea was to depict Ouroboros!Sena get hit by a laser after toppling Lambda's Ferronis; that impact would have knocked Sena through the waterfall, wherein she would crush the former canteen when landing. Naturally, she returns to the battle posthaste.

Then, after looking back over the quest text for "Lambda's Problem", I noticed that it read as follows: "Colony Lambda's Ferronis is out of commission, which inconveniently puts its canteen out of use too. Suggest a plan to the head of manufacturing." This implies that that old canteen is actually inside the Ferronis, so that idea had to be junked in favor of what you've just read. Fortunately, there are two nameless Nopon wandering around Lambda that weren't among the Nopon lying unconscious after the J battle, so I just gave them two names.

As for why I wanted to make a scene for this unseen bit, of all things? I don't know why it got under my skin so much that we never saw the original canteen get wrecked. I just knew it needed to be shown, somehow.

As for why Yukiki calls the Ferronis 'Big Turters'?

It's Nopon shenanigans, I ain't gotta explain jack.

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Note: This one builds off of some of the themes of Z's character that were explored in the fifth installment.

xxxx

There was once a time where Homecoming did not end with the glorious sound of flutes.

(Right before the proverbial clock ticked over to the climactic finale, Consul V severed Ashera's head from her neck. The mark on her body had the tiniest sliver of red left over: almost microscopic. Yet it was enough: instead of dissolving into a golden cascade, crimson motes arched into the air, akin to a shower of blood.)

There was a shared understanding that those who made it all the way...would be lost forever, prohibited from ever returning to the cycle of rebirth. It was therefore no surprise, that some in Moebius sought to prevent this, so as to ensure their stockpile of lives would not diminish.

(It was during a time where Moebius M served as Keves's Prime Consul, and N likewise as Agnus's High Consul; they switched every so often, so as to reduce the monotony. As a Commander named Crys disputed V's decision to execute one who had reached their Homecoming, she intervened personally, to let Crys have his way with his own subordinate. Needless to say, V was not happy. "Don't be a fool! Then their life...will be lost from circulation, will it not?!")

However...this was fundamentally impossible, as an event at the climax would show.

(N had believed that M was lost forever...and yet, in the final moments against Z, they both emerged from Noah and Mio: specters, representing the desires that had given them life.)

The world of Aionios had been born from Origin; even the humans born outside of its flow could trace their ancestry to it. As such, to speak of a life becoming lost — as if it could ever slip away beyond the bounds of the Endless Now — was foolish in the utmost.

And yet...

(in the face of V's disbelief, M calmly retorted, "Z also wishes it so.")

...Z allowed this belief to take root.

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Period Prior to the Destruction of the First City/

/The Amphitheater, Origin's Core/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFeUCVsNAYQ

The man with a given name of Triton chuckled at the footage on the big screen: of him, cross-armed, standing atop the head of a Ferronis as it rammed into a great dragon. "Ye must have yourself quite a lot of laughs, watching all this stuff here."

Z, as was his wont, did not respond. Not immediately. "There are times of amusement. There are also times where the sheer grief of those who meet their end...enraptures." Despite his word choice, he certainly didn't come off as one full of joy.

T scoffed and let his mind be known. "Ye don't sound like it."

"The life of those within the flow...the feelings and experiences they evoke...is something we lack. Our very nature prohibits us from creating a new 'reason' for living. All that we have and are...is thanks to humanity. And in turn, everything that humanity possesses is returned by us. An eternal 'give and take', as humanity's desires ebb and flow..." Z briefly looked up, as though hearing something else. "The voices of the formless dead: their response to the essence of life...it informs our actions...and how we express ourselves."

T tilted his head. Voices? I don't hear nothin'. "That being the case...then why offer an 'out' for 'em?" The theater's canvas now showed images from an Agnian colony; an old soldier in the twilight of his tenth term was surrounded by his fellows, each one smiling and crying in equal measure. And why not? That tenth-termer had made it to his Homecoming. All the while, Moebius Y watched with a measured yet calculating eye. "If they make it to the very end of their life, they're free from the 'cycle of rebirth.' Why give 'em an option to stop livin'?"

"Does it seem as such?" inquired Z, looking back towards the screen. As footage played of the tenth-termer dissolving into gold, he elaborated, "The Endless Now...is humanity's overarching desire: the reason Moebius came to be at all. It is in service to that desire, that we ensure the world goes on in perpetuity...but are not life's trials an exhausting exercise? So many endeavor to live, seeking the best possible life...and this world is one where life is always at stake, at any given moment. So many want time to stop, yet lack the means or the strength to do this...so why not reward them, with what they desire? Their peers rejoice in the moment; their emotions, with expectation, become exalted; amidst the end of their short yet momentous lives, their existence becomes a crown...and the world keeps on going, fueled by their contribution. Thus do they earn their rest...and another rises to take their place."

T frowned, scratching at the brim of his piratesque helm. "...so, they still be around?"

"But of course. All things trace their being to Origin. The formless dead remain as such by their own desire...and yet there are many who seek to stake their own claim, to embrace the life that they have witnessed but through a glass darkly. They who are victorious at their Homecoming, embrace death with gladness. In time...they will doubtless seek to return to the cycle, if only to experience the life that they yearn for. So long as Moebius exists, we will ensure that the world endures until that day...thus does everyone bask in this grand ceremony of death...and rebirth."

(In another place, and another time, words spoken long ago — drunk with power and mania, as green light blazed from an awakening titan — echoed through the ether, heard by none, yet witnessed by an everlasting memory: "Let it begin...the ceremony of destruction....and recreation!!")

"I think I get it, now," murmured T, crossing his arms with a thoughtful hum. "Yer basically givin' the poor saps that make it to the end a break from all the fightin'!"

"It is simply a fulfillment of their desire," he nonchalantly said. "Nothing more, and nothing less."

T stared oddly at him, feeling a bit perplexed at how detached Z acted about everything, even though he spoke in such grand terms about how Moebius was the embodiment of human life in its fullness. "Then why let the other Consuls interfere? A lot of 'em have started followin' that daft idiot V's lead, and executin' the tenth-termers before they make it to their last breath."

Z simply remarked, "Moebius directs the flow according to humanity's desires...yet for those of you plucked from the passage of fate, do you not still have desires of your own? We are part of the very same flow, after all...and it would be hypocritical, to admonish others for enacting their own desires, and doing what they could to preserve the Endless Now."

"Why let 'em believe otherwise, then?"

"It would not change the truth underlying their desire. Besides...from the perspective of an everlasting moment, a life removed from the cycle of rebirth for ten years, a hundred years, a millennium, or even longer...it's all the same."

T hummed thoughtfully. "Then...if we were to bite the big one, we'd come back as well?"

Z shook his head. "That is part of what it means to be Moebius: in return for eternal life, the eternity of rebirth is denied to you. Human life retains its sublime quality precisely because it is so short...yet your extended lifespans afford you greater creativity. It is a balance...but for those with immortal bodies to lack a fear of death: would that not lead to stagnation? A life without struggle, without risk, without challenge...would be a dull and tasteless thing. Do you not agree?"

"...I think I see what yer sayin'." T sighed, leaning back in his chair with an impatient air. "Though, what if people desired a world other than this one? What if they wanted an actual future beyond the 'now'?"

"Then I would not exist: it is as simple as that," he stated, with a dogmatic finality.

"Ye sound so sure! Have ye thought it out that much?"

Z calmly gazed at T, his crimson eyes speckled by the dual glow of red infinities. "How could I have not? It is...my role, in this world."

(In another place, and another time, words spoken long ago — spoken in defiance of his counterpart, she who wondered as to why he seemed to feel nothing with regards to his defiance of their Father's wishes — echoed through the ether, heard by none, yet witnessed by an everlasting memory: "How could I? That isn't...my role in this world.")

"...I've been alive for awhile now," murmured T. "And I appreciate the life ye let me lead, don't get me wrong. But sometimes I wonder if there be more than just this..."

"If there is a future you long for...then what is stopping you from seeking it? What great obstacle lies in your way? If you had the power to do away with the Endless Now...what would stop you?"

T thought about it. He really did. Was he willing to give up his current existence for the sake of something...unknown? Let's see...I think Aionios was s'posed to not exist, right? If the Queens had actually succeeded way back when...then what would life have been like? Would I have still been the same Triton I was beforehand? So many things would have been left undone, and so many things would have gone unexperienced...and oh, the thought of all that grandness never having been? It rattled the mind.

"And there it is," said Z, with a hint of knowing. "That desire for 'now', driven by a need for certitude...even after everything you've been through, that still trumps an uncertain future. And hence Moebius persists."

"...eh, can't exactly argue with that," admitted T. "Makes ye wonder though...a world driven by fightin' and dyin' can't have been the only possibility."

"The world itself is fueled by the consumption of life; that very life serves as a bulwark against the annihilation that drove so many to despair in their final moments," Z cryptically said. "To deny that is to delude yourself."

T huffed. "Ah, I ain't no fool. Just wonderin', is all...makes you wonder about us humans though, don't it? That our desires have apparently led to a world of endless war. What does that say about us, you reckon? Bein' that yer the ruler of this world, and all that."

"It is not my place to pass judgment," coolly remarked the very first Moebius. "You would have me hate them?" When T shook his head, Z added, "To hate this world would be to hate the very reason I am here: to prefer oblivion over existence. Such would be anathema. So no...I do not."

(In another place, and another time, words spoken long ago — a sober and solemn answer to a prince who asked if he hated humans, all because he had admitted he was weak for killing to survive as long as he had — echoed through the ether, heard by none, yet witnessed by an everlasting memory: "No...I hate this world.")

Somehow, T felt that there was more to it than that; however, he couldn't quite put it into words, so he let it slide. "...would be odd, if you of all people ever got tired of livin'," wondered T, rising to his feet. "Anyhow, I've kicked back for long enough! I think I've got Colony Delta for the next few generations..." Before he departed, there was one more question he had to ask. "If, by any chance, humanity's desires do change...how would ye react?"

Z seemed amused by his question. "Human nature is unchanging. Even if desires shift direction within the stream...they ultimately follow the river's flow. But that variety is what gives life its zest. And I will witness it all: every single death...every single rebirth...and everything in between."

"...if that's the case, ye might wanna try living it out yerself, instead of sitting back in this musty ol' theater!" joked T with a laugh. "If you ask me...I'd like Homecoming to be somethin' grander. Like a tournament or somethin'! Wouldn't that be a lark?" He wondered aloud, before he warped away.

"...and that is what Y, X, you, and all the others are for...T," calmly said Z, even as his eyes returned to the screen. "Not all are as boisterous as you...by the time they reach the end, life has seemingly become a burden, as strange as that may sound...no matter what reasons they come up with in their mind to explain its import, the essence of Homecoming remains the same: a respite from the duties and obligations that come with living. Is that not true, o ye formless dead?" he asked aloud. "A grand ceremony, to mark one's passing...perhaps it will naturally emerge from the flow itself: to make the end a thing of joy, so that you can rest in peace...until your next turn at life comes back around..." A thought to ponder for the future, perhaps.

In the meantime, he leaned back in silence, to watch the eternal moment play itself out.

xxxx

At that moment, somewhere within the Aetia Region...a boy with long, blond hair — a mere fourth-termer, serving as a mechanic in Colony 6 — quietly fashioned a flute amidst his downtime.

For the first time (but certainly not the last), he blew a note through the instrument.

He liked the way it sounded.

xxxx

Author's Note: Juxtaposing Z with words of his prior main antagonists helps provide a lot of similarities and contrasts, I've noticed.

But yeah, it really doesn't make sense for N to make such a big deal out of M dissolving at the Homecoming, only for them to come back at the very end.

So my justification is simply that Z doesn't really think in terms of the same amount of time as the others who are aware of the cycle of rebirth. From his perspective, those who make it to the Homecoming are still bound by the flow...so if they take an extended break from the cycle, why would it matter in the long run, if the Endless Now lasts forever? (And from the perspective of those who knew them, they're not gonna remember the next time they get reborn, because they'll have been long dead by then. So what does it matter?)

It probably would have helped N cope, at the very least.

Alternatively, Z could have simply explained it as follows: "Why do you worry about M? You both have Protagonist Privileges."

"...oh. Right."

"How could you forget?"

"I've been an Antagonist for so long, how can you blame me, Z?"

"A fair point."

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/Colony 9, Yzana Plains, Aetia Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-blmUJPgM1o

The preceding months had been rather stressful, as far as Zeon was concerned.

After Colony 9's triumph over Colony Sigma, the secret mission in Alfeto Valley had resulted in the loss of many soldiers, as well as the seeming betrayal of three of their own: a betrayal that had resulted in the sacking of their former Commander as punishment, and Zeon's subsequent promotion. Then their Consul, B, had been subjected to an unceremonious defeat at the hands of those very same trio of rebels (plus a trio of Agnians, but that was besides the point); their Flame Clock had been destroyed, testifying to their allegiance once and for all. Even if they would rather not face their fellow Kevesi, the Castle had doubtless considered them traitors to the cause. Then there were the problems with getting the new crops going, along with conflicts of direction with Kite and those who shared his sentiments...it was all very headache-inducing.

Why is why the arrival of another Consul was the last thing he needed. "The fact you would arrive in the dead of night would be considered foreboding by most...'C', was it?"

The helmeted man calmly nodded, his eyes colored steel with an almost bluish tint. "I truly apologize if you feel threatened by my presence," he said, sitting on the other side of Zeon's desk. "I prefer not to cause a ruckus unless absolutely necessary."

He's calm. Collected. How troublesome. "You are, at least, more circumspect than Consul B was."

"Ah. A shame, that our presence has become so maligned. For all our strength, you would think we Consuls could afford to be a bit more magnanimous."

Zeon truly didn't know what to make of this strangely affable figure. (Also, why did his voice sound...oddly familiar?) "If you intend to be so noble, then kindly explain why you walked into my office at such a late hour."

"I was simply looking at the Colony for myself," C remarked, casually intimating that he had managed to reach the Ferronis without being spotted by any of the guards. "I wanted an understanding of a Colony freed from the Flame Clock, and how that 'freedom' has transformed you."

Uncertain as to where this was going, Zeon decided to play along. "And your thoughts...?"

"The sound of struggle: of toil, and so much labor that some might find it futile. It's a rather...sour note. Yet one that's strangely sweet, in a cathartic way." With that stoic expression, C asked, "Do you think everyone in Colony 9 appreciates this life of 'freedom'? Is it everything you were promised?"

"...we knew there would be difficulties." No longer supported by the Castle, they had had to make ends meet on their own, and in conjunction with whatever allies they could find. "Some appreciate no longer having to fight, day in and day out. Others...have taken longer to adapt."

"While all that is true, it didn't answer my question," emphasized C. "Is it everything you were promised?"

Zeon narrowed his eyes, thinking of just how Ouroboros had blustered their way into getting what they had wanted: showcasing their relative innocence, pointing out a way of life that had seemed impossible. "I don't believe we were 'promised' anything. We were simply given a chance...and chose to fight for it. Even if others in the Colony have not embraced our new reality with equal vigor...that is only my fault, as their Commander. I can only endure the consequences as they come."

Consul C leaned back in his borrowed chair, staring intently across Zeon's desk. "The lack of guarantees must be troubling. The certitude of the world you all once belonged to...is gone. Now, there is only uncertainty, as you struggle from day to day. Is that not...a sad outcome?"

"...I would call it 'sobering'. Not necessarily 'sad'," corrected Zeon. "We have not yet lived long enough to determine whether our fate is a sad one. And yet...we are making something of ourselves, little by little."

C hummed thoughtfully. "Spoken like someone seeking a future unknown..."

Zeon's eyes impulsively glanced over C's shoulder; a trio of soldiers were approaching his office, as if reporting in. Their eyes all fell upon the Moebius's back, knowing what his appearance signified.

C, naturally, felt their presence without turning around. "Do not fret on my account," he casually remarked. "If you must debrief, then do so."

The trio of soldiers nervously entered; the young fourth-termer Url was accompanied by Carrie — a ninth-termer with two-toned skin of gray and brown hair hanging down the sides — and Lenny, a sixth-termer with lighter shades of gray on his skin, contrasting his thick dark hair. "Um...I sent off the men who got ambushed by the monsters near Riccalo Pond. I...I managed to get the motes to come after only five minutes, this time...sir."

"...excellent work, Url," professionally remarked Zeon, staring daggers at Carrie and Lenny in the hopes they would stop looking at the Consul with such expressions of veiled hostility. "Your improvement is to be commended."

"T-Thanks, sir..."

"You may turn in the remainder of your report tomorrow. You are dismissed-"

Naturally, the Consul chose now to interrupt. "I would like to hear your song," said C, without warning. "Consider me a...connoisseur, of sorts, for this kind of music."

Url gulped, looking nervously at the Moebius as his skin turned paler. In response to Url's anxious glance, the Commander had no choice but to nod. Without Ouroboros, our options are rather limited.

Mollified by the fact he had Zeon's permission, Url slowly retrieved his flute — a plain instrument colored dark gray, with little in the way of decoration — and began to play. It was an uncertain number, sounding unnaturally loud within the confines of Zeon's office; however, it nonetheless evoked a heartening sensation, akin to a young Bunnit stepping out onto the plain for the first time. Consul C, tellingly, had closed his eyes: listening to the amateurish melody had consumed his entire focus.

(Zeon resisted the urge to summon his Blade and strike; he knew better than to assume Moebius was defenseless.)

When Url stopped, C opened his eyes. "A fine song," he observed. "The emotion behind it is...young." Gazing at Url — ignoring how Carrie and Lenny placed protective hands on the younger boy's shoulders — he asked, "You have had to change your mindset, haven't you? To make the motes appear...you have had to play differently than you used to."

"...yes," admitted Url.

"Tell me: who helped you come to this understanding?"

"...the one who used to be the senior off-seer for Colony 9. Noah's his name," said Url, with a small hint of defiance.

"Ah. I see." Consul C nodded to himself...with expectation. (Why?) "A notorious name, nowadays, it seems..." Looking back at Zeon, he said, "They can leave, if they wish."

Zeon promptly dismissed the trio, who seemed all too eager to depart. "...what was the point of that?"

"Ouroboros leaves impacts in more ways than one; their influence goes beyond the mere destruction of the Flame Clock." C seemed rather pleased by that. "By sharing their feelings with you, Ouroboros has opened the way to a potential future for your Colony...I wanted to witness their effect for myself, at least once."

Zeon decided to be bold. "There are Colonies other than ours that were freed by Noah, Lanz, Eunie, and their comrades; if you're that interested, what's stopping you from visiting them?"

"Colony 9...is a place of certain importance, to me," cryptically said C. "But feelings do not always remain the same, once they're shared...to what length are you willing to go, to ensure they live on into this uncertain future of yours?"

"...let's cut to the chase," suddenly said Zeon, feeling tired of the roundabout wording. "Why did you come here? Why did you come to speak with me?"

C stared silently for a brief time; after several moments, he answered. "Ouroboros has been captured by Agnus Castle. During the upcoming Eclipse...they will be executed. The future they represent will come to an end. Such is the fate decreed for them."

The mere thought forced Zeon to his feet, impulsively summoning his sword and shield. "Was all this a mere attempt at getting under my skin?"

"The decision to inform the freed Colonies of Ouroboros's imprisonment was made; how will you and everyone else affected by Ouroboros react? Will you seek to intervene, even if the odds are stacked against you? Or will you have faith in their strength, believing that they'll pull through? Only you can decide that...and whether you can live with the consequences of that choice."

Zeon didn't know what to make of this apparent threat. Was it merely a warning? Or something else? "Who...who are you?"

"...someone of no importance," C honestly admitted, before glowing purple; his eyes seemed to glow, and why did Zeon hear a distant...flute...?

"...-mander...Zeon...Zeon, wake up!"

Zeon jolted awake, tiny wings flapping with surprise. Kite's bright hazel eyes narrowed at the sight of him, which was about as confusing as the fact it was now morning. "What...?"

"You fell asleep at your desk again, Commander?" griped Kite with crossed arms. "Those sparkin' fields seem to be taking more out of you than you're putting in."

"...my apologies," admitted Zeon, shaking off the odd sensation that he was forgetting something. There...was the sound of a flute...the Consul! "Kite, is the Consul still here?"

"You mean the one who walked in and left like he owned the place? Url and his bodyguards couldn't stop talking about it at the canteen." Looking more disgruntled than usual, he snidely asked, "I take it they weren't interested in inviting us back to serving Keves."

"...that goes without saying." What was C's motive? Something to ponder later...but he needed to make a confirmation. He needed information. "Have the emetaters taken root, yet?"

"Some have, some haven't. Not looking forward to taste-testing them," he grumbled.

"...then we shall continue with that for now. I have a matter I need to look into." Consul C...what's your game?

xxxx

From atop Colony 9's Ferronis, the man who had been born as Crys stared at the wide expanse of Yzana Plain. "Noah...your song has changed so many. Can it even change the terrible fate you've found yourself in?" There was no way of knowing, at this point. "If you survive...I look forward to seeing if you've been changed by your experiences...and if your feelings have nonetheless endured."

Without another word, Consul C vanished from sight.

(Regardless of how things would pan out...it had done his heart good, to see his old Colony again.)

xxxx

It was a couple of days later that Zeon received an unexpected call on his Iris. "...Commander Teach, I presume."

"When the Nopon Caravan brought word of an unusual inquiry, I must admit my curiosity was piqued," admitted the blue-skinned Commander of Gamma, their nearest 'liberated' neighbor. "You are curious about events at Agnus Castle."

Teach's framing indicated he knew exactly what was up. "Ouroboros have truly been captured," gravely said Zeon.

"So I've been informed. It should go without saying that we're being observed to see if we'll act...overtly."

"I figured as much." This would not do. To let Ouroboros wallow in jail, waiting to be executed...what would it say about them, to let their friends and liberators suffer so? Regardless of Consul C's cryptic warnings, he could not abide by it. "...regardless of the threat, we have to act somehow."

"...Commander Zeon," calmly said Teach, a strange expression crossing his face. "I have a proposition of sorts. But it may require some...extra hands."

Without hesitation, Zeon said, "I'm listening."

xxxx

Author's Note: More pieces fall into place.

/to my American readers, have a blessed Thanksgiving

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Notes: For the sake of narrative compliance, I'm making the reasonable assumption that for a lot of side quests and non-story missions, you could've accepted them by speaking with the relevant parties over Iris instead of having to accept them in person.

I mean, if Bolearis could ask Ouroboros over Iris for help to look into Colony 5, there's no reason a lot of other stories couldn't have begun the same way.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7; during the hunt for the Origin Shards with Queen Nia, but before Shania's Attack on the City/

When accompanying Ouroboros during their hunt for the pieces of Origin needed to complete Samon's vessel, there were times when Nia split from the group. It was usually whenever Moebius was potentially nearby...but there were also times when their help was suddenly needed without warning, and Nia was otherwise preoccupied with whatever had struck her fancy. In cases where they were in the territory of liberated Colonies, Nia would gladly stay behind to become acquainted with their friendlies so that Ouroboros could take care of business.

For instance: Ouroboros had been contacted by Ghondor about a "ginormous monster" in the territory where the Elaice Highway bled into the Eagus Wilderness. Given that they had been at Colony 4 at the time, they were rather close by...

xxxx

/Colony 4, Eagus Wilderness, Fornis Region/

"You lot can carry on without me; I'm still intrigued by how the medic situation is here," said Nia, accompanying Oleshandra (who had initially been skeptical of Nia's claimed medical prowess...until she had used her ether to heal a soldier with a broken leg in a matter of seconds). "Needless to say, the lack of psychiatric and psychological care is...concerning."

"Given how much the Flame Clock apparently suppressed and manipulated our physiology, I suppose it's no surprise-erk," grunted Taion, cut off in mid-speech by an elbow to the gut from Eunie. "What was-?!"

"If you get on a roll, we'll be here all day," she griped. "Let's make a break for it!"

With a quick burst of light, three Ouroboros giants — Noah-Mio carrying Riku whilst Lanz-Sena carried Manana — darted off into the distance, using their combined forms to move faster than any Levnis could; by intermittently utilizing their Ouroboros states, they could reach the Singbreeze Funnel in a couple of hours, if that: a vast improvement, compared to the days it had taken them on their first trek through Fornis.

"You kids be careful now," softly said Nia before turning towards Oleshandra. "Now, are there any people here who you think haven't taken time to...decompress?"

Oleshandra hung her head. "If only I had the time of day to describe our struggles with that sort of thing..."

xxxx

...and so their assistance had been easy to acquire.

(Keves didn't treat Nia with the same fealty that they would've treated Melia with; given that the vast majority had no idea what 'Queen Nia' would have looked like, she was practically incognito. It was glorious!)

Alas, hindsight is a wretched beast, because Nia's assistance could have been literally life-changing when it came to a giant Tirkin's mortal wound...

xxxx

(As the jumbo Tirkin's gizzard leaked out, and he commended his two Tirklets to Ghondor's care...an entirely different encounter was panning out, half a region away.)

"I saw the spot where Ethel died myself," muttered Bolearis, leaning against the guardrails outside the Commander's Office. From atop Colony 4's Ferronis, the vast wastelands of the Eagus Wilderness spread out before his eyes. The desolation fit the inner turmoil within his soul. "I swore to carry on as acting Commander in her honor. But still...sometimes, I still get this feeling of being angry and sad at the same time. It's such a mudder of a feeling to have."

"...grief can be that way," soberly said Nia, standing beside him. "I doubt I would have been able to deal with my own, if I only had ten years to my name."

Bolearis shot her a wry glance. "That a fact? So you Queens really do live sparks' longer than we do, eh?"

Nia huffed; given Bolearis's position within Colony 4, she didn't care as much about him knowing her actual identity. "Given Queen Melia's current situation, I can't even claim to know if she's actually aged since she was captured by Moebius...but me? I never thought I'd live this long."

"Must be lucky, being able to have enough time to deal with all this."

Nia chuckled bitterly. "I won't deny that there are advantages...but the disadvantages are ones I wouldn't wish on anyone."

Bolearis smiled sadly at the idea. "Guess you Queens aren't the perfect beings you've always been made out to be, eh?"

"Hell no," she impulsively replied, not feeling the need to put on her 'royal persona' in a one-on-one session with a Colony's commander...especially one who had endured so much.

"...so, how do you deal with it?" earnestly asked Bolearis.

Nia leaned against the guardrail, looking out into the wastes but seeing a world covered in a cloudy sea, where she had experienced so many joys and terrors. "Well...you could start small. Just talk about how you feel about Ethel. The sort of stuff that you may not have ever told anyone else, whether it's because they're your subordinates, or because it's embarrassing."

"...'small', she says," he said with a lighthearted scoff. "Ever since our Flame Clock got snuffed, I've had to deal with feeling a lot of new things. I don't even know how to describe half of 'em."

"Take your time," said Nia with a mollifying smile. "After all...I'm no stranger to feeling afraid of my own emotions...and wondering how others would react if I spoke aloud." Besides, the amount of conversations I've had about 'feelings' could fit a whole bloody book.

Bolearis stared quietly at her, as though taking her measure. Then, as if acquiescing to her (technically) higher standing, he relented. "All right then. So. Here's all the ways I feel about Commander Ethel..."

Nia listened patiently as he expressed himself in detail: mostly awkwardly, often uncertain...yet always sincerely.

xxxx

...but ah, what could have been. Saving the giant Tirkin's life was simply not in the cards, on that fateful day.

Thus, we come to the current moment: where Ghondor suddenly found herself as the impromptu caretaker of two tiny Tirkins...

xxxx

/Singbreeze Funnel, Elaice Highway, Fornis Region/

Ghondor tried to resist having second thoughts. Viciously so, at that. Shoulda thought about that before you decided to say that two little Tirkins are now part of your family.

Fortunately, as her Levnis set down to take her back to Agnus Castle, Sena — before Ouroboros could dart off elsewhere, because damn did they seem like busy little Bunnits — seemed to have an idea. "Oh, Ghondor! I just remembered something."

"What is it now?"

"Well, about what you said...about 'teaching stuff to non-verbal bird things'," she hesitantly said, as if uncertain about that description. "Um...there might be someone we know who can help with that."

Mio's cat ears twitched out of recognition. "...wait, you mean...ah, that's right."

"What? Spit it out, already! I'll take whatever I can bloody get," Ghondor demanded, looking over her shoulder at 'mini Tirkin' and 'micro Tirkin'. I mean, they seem like they can understand us; surely there's a way for us to understand 'em before they can talk, right?

Sena nodded. "Well, you'll have to take a little detour to the Maktha Wildwood..."

"...'scuse me??"

xxxx

/Colony Tau, Maktha Wildwood, Pentelas Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYoNzIjmzuw

"So, I hear you lot have an actual alliance with Tirkins," imperiously said Ghondor, hands on her hips.

Juniper stoically looked at the City Levnis that had set down outside the gates of Tau, before looking back at Ghondor and the two Tirklets standing behind her. "I was told ahead of time of your arrival...and about your upfront personality."

Ghondor huffed. "What, you got a problem with that, you dag?"

Junpier shook their head. "No. I'm just making an observation. And it's not a bad thing at all."

"...eh, whatever. I got told by Ouroboros that your Colony has a thing with Tirkins."

Juniper nodded. "In exchange for food, the Tirking's tribe maintains a state of peace with us. They also provide an example for the weaker tribes in the region; it's minimized unnecessary conflict when times are tough."

"...eh, whatever, I guess." The thought of having any kind of alliance with the bipedal birds felt weird, especially given how every Tirkin tribe and Gulkin gullery in the Cadensia Region was unanimously hostile to humans. (The thought of investigating that idea further — to investigate the origins of ancient conflicts — was swiftly abandoned, because she had too much shit to deal with as it was.) "So, how exactly are we gonna be dealin' with this?"

Juniper quietly spoke with one of their subordinates before motioning for Ghondor and the two Tirklets to follow. "We have a little ways to go, so let's be quick."

"Can't we just take my Levnis?" she said, looking towards her vehicle (and the pilot...who had apparently been seduced by the smell of smoked meat from a trio of Nopon further inside the Colony, and damn it smoked meat sounded really tasty right now). "It'd be quicker!"

"No Levnises. It's part of the terms of our contract with the Tirkins. It also helps them differentiate our Colony from others, because we always approach them on foot."

Ghondor huffed. This is gonna be annoying.

Thus began a quaint little trek through the woods...

xx

Juniper stared at the harpoon cable crossing the immense chasm. "Ah...I forgot that you might not know how to rope slide. But it shouldn't be that difficult-"

Ghondor simply summoned her Blade, leaping forward off of the cliffside. She seamlessly swung her arms up and around the metal line, crossing her wrists so that her gauntlets slid across the cable. Sparks flew wildly, which she endured with aplomb; as she neared the terminus of the cable, Ghondor swung her legs back and then forward, flexing her core muscles so she could flip upward and onto the opposite ledge.

"...oh. Well then," murmured Juniper with some surprise. She was so quick that she didn't even trigger the device's defense mechanism...

"Are you just gonna stand there and gawk or what?!" yelled Ghondor, her impatient voice echoing across the way.

"Ah. Right." Looking towards the mini and micro Tirkin, Juniper asked, "Do you need assistance?"

The two Tirklets looked at each other before quacking, following Ghondor's lead and leaping onto the cable. Their avian feet were apparently hardy enough for them to slide down the metallic rope with no issues, as they held their feathered arms out for balance.

"...I guess that's a 'no'," said Juniper with a shrug, flat cat ears flicking with intrigue.

xx

A Corsaire Gogol with blue skin and dirty white fur suddenly approached the group of four as they traversed the hollow of a fallen tree, snarling with anticipation at the sight of tiny and easily devoured Tirklets-!

"OH NO YA DON'T!" howled Ghondor, delivering a vicious uppercut to the beast's chin that knocked it off of its feet. "Ain't gonna be no monkey business going on while I'm around!"

As Juniper notched an ether arrow on the Luminescent Bow, a question came to mind. "...what's a 'monkey'?"

"Some troublemaker creature from a fairytale I was told as a kid," answered Ghondor, slamming her gauntleted fists together to create a satisfying smashing sound. "And this dirtbag is gonna be nothin' but a fairytale by the time I'm through with him!"

The Gogol huffed, roaring angrily at Ghondor; the pint-sized pugilist roared right back, letting her fists fly.

Juniper watched the subsequent carnage with an almost impressed blink. "She seems...quite violent."

The two Tirklets trilled a sound that signalled their agreement, even as they nonetheless watched Ghondor take down the immense ape with rapt attention.

xx

As they entered the Tirking's territory, Ghondor bristled as the native Tirkins — bearing orange plumage and green decorative feathers, starkly contrasting the Tirklets' dark color and brown-tipped feathers on their arms and wing harnesses — stared with open curiosity. "They gonna be a problem?" she growled.

Juniper held out a cautionary hand. "So long as you stay by my side, they'll treat you as a friendly." Calling out to a patrolling Tirkin, Juniper asked, "Isn't that right?"

"Kraw, don't rekognize kolor. But if with hooman, we leeve alone," the orange Tirkin replied, smacking the butt of his staff into the ground.

"You'd better," grumbled Ghondor. They slowly ascended a pathway winding up around a great tree...until, without warning, Juniper stopped. "Hey, what gives?"

"Don't look at Dimwit," Juniper warned, cat ears flattening against their head. "He's...a bit slow."

Ghondor looked over Juniper's shoulder at the large Tirkin in armor, fiddling almost absentmindedly with a blue shell that had been repurposed into a weaponized bludgeon. There was a distinctive scar running along his beak as well: one that was surprisingly deep, yet not that old. Whistling softly, she asked, "Man, what happened to that guy?"

"We were on our way back from renewing our alliance with the Tirking when Dimwit attacked us without warning. He's their strongest warrior, but he's not too bright. He...well, he apparently thought Lanz looked like a Gogol from a distance and started swinging." In response to Ghondor's raised eyebrow, Juniper shrugged. "Noah and the others...may have had to rough him up a bit."

"Clearly," remarked Ghondor, wondering who exactly in Ourboros had given the beastie such a gnarly scar.

xx

At long last, they stood before the Tirking. "Kommander of friendly hoomans; the Tirking welkums you. But why the little Tirklets? Where dey kum frum?"

Juniper nodded. "From my understanding, their 'father'," they said, as if quoting a term they'd heard before without truly understanding its meaning, "perished in a battle, far away from Maktha. Ghondor elected to take them in...but she's requesting advice as to what young Tirklets need...in terms of guidance, dietary needs, and things unique to Tirkins that we humans may not understand."

The Tirking stared incredulously at Ghondor. "Dat so?"

"Yeah. Got a problem?" retorted Ghondor, crossing her arms with a scowl, leaving her Blade present but inactive in a show of implicit force.

"Hooman volunteering to look after Tirklets is odd. Never seen before." Looking at the tiny bipedal birds, he remarked, "They young, but not have smell of enemy tribes. Would be willing to raise them as warriors, in honor of Tirkin-hooman alliance! This agreeable to hooman with big fists?"

For an instant, Ghondor considered it. It would be better, for the Tirklets to be raised among their own kind; it was only logical. Hell, it might have even been the right thing to do! (What did she know about being a caretaker, anyhow?)

(What do you know about being a mother? Not like you've had the best role model. 'Like mother, like daughter,' right?)

However, the petulant rebelliousness that comprised part of her personality reared its head, stamping down on that idea in an instant. "I gave my word to watch out for 'em. And...well, I gave them the choice. They chose to come along, instead of staying with their Daddy."

The Tirking sagely nodded. "Would be proper, for Tirklets to stay by falling place of father. Natural, for Tirkins to klaim our dead. But would dey choose to join us?"

"...fair enough." Glancing down at the two Tirklets, she asked, "Well? You heard the dag. You wanna stay behind, become a warrior with these bird-brains?"

(The Tirking glanced curiously at Juniper. "What is 'dag'?")

("I honestly don't know," confusedly replied Juniper.)


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3F6nZ1vFsNw

The Tirklet siblings glanced at each other, chirping with sounds that Ghondor had no means of deciphering. However, as the duo looked at her with their seemingly blank stares, they waddled over to stand behind her.

Ghondor refused to acknowledge the strange burst of warmth in her chest, instead giving the Tirking a haughty smirk. "And there ya have it!"

"...odd, for Tirklets to choose hoomans over Tirkins. But Tirking akknowledge rekwest!" he boasted. "Will summon Brood Mama, to teach ways of Tirkins to hooman. Little Tirklets will get important lessons in how to talk to hoomans!" Looking over at Juniper, the tribal leader added, "Kommander of friendly hoomans is also welkum to watch."

"I'm grateful for the opportunity," said Juniper with a smile.

Hell yeah, Ghondor inwardly cheered. We're finally cutting through the Ardun crap!

xx

Over an hour later, Ghondor was regretting her decision. To hell with all this. She'd learned more about Tirkin habits, physiology, and common behaviors than she'd ever even imagined had existed. Even if her lessons had come from an aged Tirkin — the tribe's oldest brood mother, apparently, affectionately referred to as the 'Brood Mama' — with paler feathers and a surprisingly more understandable accent relative to the others, it had all put her head into a tizzy.

Hence why she didn't immediately complain when Juniper sat down beside her, resting elbows on knees as compared to Ghondor's cross-legged stance. "You seem surprisingly tired."

"I just learned more about molting than I ever wanted to know about," grumbled Ghondor. "And all that junk about what to do when they get old enough to look for mates?! I'm like, 'bitch, that's years away!'" (Not that she had said that out loud to the Brood Mama. The wizened bird with saggy skin and drooping feathers had somehow possessed an air similar to Grandpa Guernica whenever he had gotten all parental-like...well, back when he had still been alive.)

"...either way, it is useful knowledge." Juniper gazed at the foggy expanse of the Maktha Wildwood: at the ancient city, consumed yet never yielding to the green growth. "Our alliance with the Tirkins has lasted for a long time...but I don't know if we ever considered actually trying to understand their way of life...like with all their talk about 'mothers' and 'fathers'."

"Ah. Right. You lot probably never got the 'Talk' like Ouroboros did." Quite frankly, it was almost cruel to dangle that sort of knowledge in the face of those who couldn't live longer than ten years. After all, it'd be guaranteeing that any children born of such hypothetical unions would live well beyond their mother and father. (Yet another way in which this world was so bloody unfair.) "...eh, not my place to butt in."

Juniper lightly chuckled. "I'll take your word for it. But...from what it sounds like, it's a lot like being the Commander of a Colony: doing what has to be done to ensure your subordinates survive; looking out for their safety and welfare; ensuring they're strong enough to make it through whatever trials come their way..." Nodding with conviction, the Commander of Tau — with a naive yet firm confidence — added, "Being a Commander is a heavy duty...but after everything I've been through, it's helped me grow as a person. So it's also kind of like a privilege. I wager being a parent must be the same."

Ghondor pondered the thought, instinctively ignoring any possible correlations with her mother (because she was still a Bitchqueen. Kind of. Sort of. Perhaps? Ugh, it was complicated). "...maybe," she muttered, saying nothing more on the subject.

As such, the two simply sat in a companionable silence as the sun set, whilst the Tirkins danced around the bonfire below.

(Ghondor may or may not have hollered at the Tirklets to strut their feathers when they were encouraged to take a turn.)

xxxx

After a few days had passed, Juniper, Ghondor, and the Tirklets returned to Tau.

The City Levnis took off into the air, with Ghondor and the Tirklets on board. Its destination: Agnus Castle.

("...here's to a better tomorrow," Ghondor quietly said, holding out her fist towards the two Tirklets. The siblings, having been taught many things about human customs and habits from Tirking's tribe, returned the fist bump simultaneously.)

It was an uncertain life they were all stepping into...but they would roll with the punches regardless.

...ah, but there's one more thing to consider.

xxxx

(As Ghondor and the Tirklets were each beginning their respective crash courses in matters important for Tirkin-Human relations...Ouroboros had finally returned to Colony 4.)

"Ah, you're back!" exclaimed Nia, sitting happily at the canteen. "You were gone for a bit, yeah?"

"Would have returned sooner, had someone not fallen into sand pit," remarked Riku, giving Lanz a side-eye.

"It's not my fault that ginormous Marrin surprised us!" Lanz retorted, referring to the infamous Dunesea Marcellus and its habit of ambushing passersby. "We had to show that mudder a thing or three before it finally went down."

"A thing or three, eh?" muttered Nia under her breath. "Well, at least you lot made it back safe. Did your mission with Ghondor and her own monster turn out well?" Silence. Awkward silence. "...guys?"

"...sort of?" answered Sena with a nervous chuckle. "I mean, Ghondor's fine! Obviously! But the monster, well..."

"If Manana could save friends from all this awky-walky talk, mission could be summed up as: life can be complicated!" she explained.

Nia blinked, looking at the six Ouroboros with a confused expression. "...um...okay...?"

"...anyhow, were things hunky-dory while we were away?" asked Mio, changing the subject.

"Ah. Right." Nia seemed to accept the segue without dispute. "Well, my opinion about the poor state of the Colonies' medical practices in terms of proper mental care hasn't changed one bit..."

xxxx

Ouroboros had unanimously decided to not inform Her Majesty about the Jumbo Tirkin's untimely death due to a mortal wound received in battle, for fear it would only make her feel guilty.

After all, it seemed that she carried a lot more regrets than was healthy...at least, that's what Mio thought.

But the story of those regrets has been told in many other places...so that will be that, for now.

Just as Ghondor and the Tirklets turned a new page in their lives...Ouroboros's travels with Nia would likewise open a new chapter in their story.

xxxx

Author's Notes: This basically ended up being two side stories in one; however, given that I've got Nia accompanying Ouroboros for a large chunk of Chapter 7's first half in order to comply with the narrative chronology of her Ascension Quest, I had to come up with a reason as to why she wouldn't be around to be the 'cure-all' button for Jumbo Tirkin's mortal wound in the gizzard.

Giving some desperately-needed psychological care to Kevesi soldiers freed of the Flame Clock seemed as good an idea as any.

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/Colony 30, Ribbi Flats, Fornis Region/

Joran — now more commonly known as Consul J or Moebius J — couldn't help but feel like he had gotten the burnt end of a candle. Could've gotten Colony 9, but that guy C somehow got that one; could've gotten Colony 4 to mock those Dirt-ranked fools, but D got them. Even 11 wouldn't have been so bad, because at least I could have mocked those battle-hungry idiots in the sight of their own Castle and their precious 'Queen'...but this...

"-and as you can see, I'm not entirely sure why Q wanted to use this Levnis when it wasn't complete. We hadn't even finished programming the 'Friendship Protocol' that I came up with after talking with Ouroboros, and I also wanted to wait until I'd had a chance to tinker with those Agnian auto-Levs for additional ideas, because I wanted to make Dorrick the best he could possibly be-"

...this is just the worst. J resisted the urge to smack Colony 30's Commander upside the head. "Your reaction is rather...unusual."

Valdi, caught in the midst of a longwinded spiel about Levnises, paused with a blink. "Huh? You really think so, Mister J?"

"That's Consul J, to you," griped Joran, resisting the urge to throttle him. At least the rest of Colony 30 seemed to recognize the meaning behind his presence; Nopon went out of their way to avoid him, whilst the Kevesi soldiers seemed unsure as to how tightly they needed to hold onto their Blades. That's right, you peons. Cower before me. Not so eager to mess with a worm like me now. The only one who didn't seem to treat him with the respect he deserved was the Commander, who was very short for a sixth-termer. "And I meant what I said: given what happened with Consul Q, I would have figured you would treat any other Consul with fear and trembling."

Valdi hummed thoughtfully. "I guess that's a good point...and Q did make a mess of things. But if he ever came around and apologized, I'd be fine with that. And you haven't attacked us or anything, so I don't see why we have to be enemies." Pausing, 30's Commander gazed up at their broken Flame Clock. "Er, you don't mind that the Flame Clock is broken, do you? I know that's a big deal to some folks."

"...how did a scrub like you become Commander?" asked Joran with disbelief. (How did such a clod stumble into a position of actual authority?)

(Why were you never so lucky?)

"Well, we focus a lot on Levnises, and I like Levnises, so it just ended up that way, I guess? I know Lanz said it's not really befitting behavior for a Commander, so I am working on it...but when I've got so many reliable people like Yuzet to lean on, it's hard not to fall into old habits."

The mention of Lanz's name caused Joran to twitch beneath his distinctive helmet. And that brings me to why I'm here. "I think we should cut to the chase. Do you have a place where we can speak in private?"

"Sure!" cheerfully said Valdi.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1cEsUfADY8

Joran quietly waddled behind Valdi as the sixth-termer led him towards the barracks: a cluster of prefabricated tents, bunched up in a corner of the Colony. Valdi picked one that was coincidentally empty, far away from the bustle of mechanics nervously tinkering away. "So, how can I help, Mister J?"

"...Consul J."

"Ah, sorry. Consul J."

"Essentially...the Castle has been keeping a distant eye on you Colonies whose Flame Clocks were destroyed by Ouroboros, to see if you could be brought back into the fold." What a load of garbage. It'd be better to just wipe the whole slate clean. Everyone alive will forget about 'em before long, once all memory of Colony 30 fades. "Given how Ouroboros was finally captured by Agnus not too long ago...our nations are eager to put this mess behind us. So if you know what's good for you...I'd advise not interfering with their execution during the upcoming Eclipse." Though I'd REALLY like to see you try.

Valdi blinked. "Ouroboros got captured? Where?"

"At Agnus Castle. You could say they flew too high for their own good..."

"But Agnus Castle is lower than the highest landmarks in Aionios...like the Great Sword, or Captocorn Peak..." Validi scratched at the back of his head with his free hand, a complicated frown briefly crossing his face. "That sounds awful...but I'm sure they'll be fine! They'll probably break out, no problem...I wonder if they'd be willing to stop by with more parts for Dorrick..."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Ah, sorry; you don't need to beg!"

Joran resisted the urge to sputter with disbelief. "Not the point, look: Ouroboros got captured. Noah, Lanz, Eunie, Riku, and their Agnian counterparts: do you not care?"

"Of course I care!" protested Valdi. "But they're really tough guys. They'll be okay."

...how unexpectedly detached of him. Or is he just that naive? "A strange conviction, Commander Valdi..." Joran waddled past him; as he did so, he focused his power, unleashing a brief miasma of purple that swarmed over Valdi and dispersed in an instant; the sixth-termer didn't have time to process it. "...I wonder if you'll still share that conviction once the Eclipse passes?" He clenched his right hand, wherein that miasma coalesced with Valdi's mental essence.

Valdi turned around, looking somewhat bewildered. "I mean, why wouldn't I?"

"...you're such a bore," murmured Joran.

"I'm sorry about that, Mister J."

Joran immediately warped away.

"Wait, sorry, I mean Console J!"

xx

Joran emerged atop the great bluff overlooking the Fornis Region; how little did Colony 30 know that he was still there, half-tempted to crush them all. "But first...let's see what secrets the little Commander's hiding." Smiling grimly, Moebius J let the miasma in his right hand seep out into the ground; a portion of the ground slowly began to rise, clumping together into mud with definition. Before long, it took on the tones and colors of Valdi himself. "Valdi...what are you most afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of letting my friends down. But I'm working on it!" cheerfully said the mudpuppet. "Do you have any Levnises I can work on?"

Joran blinked. "How do you feel about...Ouroboros? What about them makes you..irritated, or angry?"

"Nothing that I can think of. They're all pretty great!" The mudpuppet confusedly looked around. "How come there aren't any Levnises around? They didn't go off to fight, did they? We're not supposed to fight anymore."

...is this bloke for real? "Ouroboros is going to get executed in less than a month. How does that make you feel?"

"...sad, I guess? But those guys are awesome! My friends aren't going to die." The mudpuppet looked at him with a smile. "I think I'm going to head back to the Colony now, and get to work-"

SHUNK.

A tiny little knife sunk into the mudpuppet's forehead, cutting off his speech; his color gave way to a muddy brown, and his entire being collapsed into the dirt he had been forged from.

With a bitter scowl, Joran picked his knife up. "Utterly without guile," he murmured, feeling rather irritated. "How can someone like that exist in this world...?" It should have been an impossibility. I wasn't so lucky. I've never been lucky.

(You're the unluckiest worm in the world.)

Joran felt a sudden urge to burn the entirety of Colony 30 to the ground, to show them just how lowly they truly were...but no. That wouldn't do at all. You're not some hothead. You've got power, now...you're in control, J. Smiling grimly, he look eastward, towards the immense and gargantuan Ocean Vortex. When Ouroboros meets their end...I'll come back to deliver the news straight to this 'Valdi'. I want to see how he looks when his hope dies...that'll show him.

(How dare someone so muddled possess conviction you could never hope to bear?)

Chuckling to himself, Moebius J warped away.

xxxx

Needless to say...it would be Joran that would get surprised by the results of the Homecoming, not Valdi.

But Valdi's part was not yet over.

xxxx

A few days later, Valdi received an unexpected message on his Iris. "...oh, Brolearis!"

Bolearis chuckled. "You still haven't gotten it right, eh?"

"...did I get it wrong?"

"...you know, 'Brolearis' sounds just fine. I've got a favor to ask of you."

"Is it about the new levnite shipment we were negotiating? I think Yuzet had already arranged the details with your man, Solon..."

Bolearis shook his head. "Nah, nothing like that. I was asked to set up a conversation between you and Colony 9's Commander, if that's fine with you."

"I don't see why not." A chance to make more friends? What a good day!

"Thing is, it's about Ouroboros and their upcoming execution...I heard from the Nopon traders passing through that a Consul visited?"

"You mean Mister J? He kind of left in a hurry; not sure why. I wonder if I upset him...?" He sure hoped not; Yuzet was always taking about how first impressions were important. "But I'm sure Ouroboros will be fine."

"...heh. You've got some fiery sparks, kid. Wish there were more like you." Brushing at his chin, Bolearis nonetheless added, "Still, no harm in stacking the deck in our favor. Commander Zeon hasn't let slip the full details, but he's apparently got a plan cooked up with help from Gamma and Iota, of all places..."

"Iota?" Didn't we fight them not too long ago? How many terms has it been? "It'll be nice to see them again! I'm glad Antixandria isn't holding any grudges."

Bolearis stared. "...pretty sure Iota's Commander is named 'Alexandria', kiddo."

"Is she? I'll make sure to remember that...so what's this plan? Does it involve Levnises?"

"How'd you guess?"

Instead of acting smug for guessing right, Valdi simply whooped with joy. "Awesome! Share me all the details!"

xxxx

Author's Note: Next time we do a 'Longest Month' snippet, we'll round up the rest of the liberated Colonies on the Agnian side: Tau, Lambda, Iota, and Gamma.

After that...will be the actual plan in action.

/but seriously, Valdi is a precious cinnamon roll

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Note: I had previously discussed mentioning how, for the sake of narrative compliance, I would have Ino's Ascension Quest taken care of in Chapter 7 (since the final part of Ino's Ascension Quest was in Erythia Sea, where the final Origin Shard for the ship upgrade would be obtained).

However, due to some logistical difficulties, I think I would instead have it be taken care of in Chapter 6, whilst they were globe-trotting with the 'Triton-Mobile'. It's just more flexible, that way.

xxxx

Certain details regarding a certain Nopon genius are shrouded in mystery. Whether this was by design or by happenstance is...uncertain, if you'll forgive the wordplay.

Oosoo: the inventor and creator of the Artificial Blade named Ino. Was he a descendant of Tora? Was he actually Tora, kept alive through the Endless Now by some arcane means? Or was he perhaps, however unlikely, someone entirely different?

Who could say...but that's not the point.

The point was that Oosoo was someone who had possessed knowledge of life on Alrest: of the Blade-Driver system, and how it had functioned. Furthermore, he had been aware enough of Aionios's afflictions to keep Ino focused solely on protecting the Nopon Caravans, and away from the wider war between Keves and Agnus...and hence away from Moebius's wandering eyes.

Yet one must wonder...just how much awareness Ino may have had, of what it meant to be an Artificial Blade...especially in light of who came before.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, whilst Samon is Upgrading the Boundary into the Bravery, prior to the First Invasion of Origin/

/Ladras Way, Captocorn Peak, Aetia Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBauc1YAN9w

Ino quietly held her swords aloft, glaring at the immense Ansels — scarred, with gnarled green flesh and old feathers — that hovered about the area with a strangely territorial air. "Ino must make demands: do not trouble Nopon as they scavenge for scavengables!"

The avian monster huffed, tilting its head with a strange sort of sentience...before, with a bestial snort, it flapped its wings and moved away from the old Levnis wreckage.

"Meh-meh," muttered Momama, his minty green fur ruffling from the cold winds. "Grateful to Ino-Ino for being a scarypon! Must obtain parts, quickedy-split!" The tired Nopon frantically gathered his fellow traderpon; before long, the old Levnises — of Keves and Agnus make alike — bore colorful fluffballs on their ruin, scoured and investigated like corpses beset by ants.

The Artificial Blade's Inosabers were nonetheless held aloft, ready to strike if the nearby monsters got any funny ideas! Yet...they seem not interested in attacking Ino. These machines...some new, some old. They...protect this place? It was an interesting thought...and yet, as Ino gazed up at the imposing form of the Cloudkeep, she perhaps had an answer as to why. Although...this why Ino come here.

xxxx

It had not been too long ago that Ino had run into Ouroboros once more (accompanied by a strange yet oddly jovial Moebiuspon called Triton. He was the only one registered in her databanks as 'Friend? Foe? Who knows?!'); during their travels, they had defeated the wicked Nopon Eater. Glorious!

Yet, not too long after that great battle, when Ino and Ouroboros had gone their separate ways...something had happened.

An odd signal began pinging off of her internal receptors: one that she hadn't felt in many centuries. (Not that keeping track of time was truly meaningful in a world like Aionios; so long as she kept track of the Nopon Caravan's schedules, that was all she needed.)

A signal that meant something. (A signal that fired when — little did Ino know — Queen Nia awoke from her long slumber.)

What that thing was, she wasn't sure.

All that she knew was that Grandmasterpon Oosoo had programmed her to realize that this signal would be the harbinger of the end.

But the end of what? Ino had no clue, to be honest.

And she was not one to be dumbfounded for too long. (Or, as she would put it: "Dumb of Ino beyond foundation!")

xxxx

"...Ino has been Champon of all Nopon for so long," she whispered in her high-pitched voice, staring at the Cloudkeep with her emphatic eyes. "What it mean, for time to come to an end...?"

She pondered these thoughts and more as she escorted Momama's caravan further down the heights of Captocorn Peak, back to the Tsang Camp; only once they were back in its relative safety did she return, moving with uncharacteristic stoicism towards the grand stairwell. The very form of the Cloudkeep evoked the image of a great crown...or perhaps a gigantic hat. Maybe a giant robot could wear it? Would have to see what Grandmasterpon would say.

The interior of the Cloudkeep further inflamed her sensors, as one being assaulted by phantom memories. Times and places that she had never witnessed filtered through her, courtesy of eyes and ears belonging to someone else. Ino never been here...question mark? (Had Oosoo blocked memories of this place? Perhaps. She'd have no way of knowing. And he would have known best!) But it feel...warm. Maybe Ino need to get synthetic sensors checked? Temperature reading still super frosty!

Eventually, she neared the top of the complex; at the height of the stairs, she stared with wide eyes at the bust of a tiger's head over the doorway. Old memory files opened up in an instant. "Image of Legendary Blade: Dromarch the Gentlecat!" Kneeling with exaggerated glee, she bowed with such force that her head smacked into the ground. "Mannerisms of such refinement merit great respect, and bigger words than Ino would normally use!"

It was upon clearing the stairs and entering the serene hall...that she saw it: the complex cluster of machinery, centered around a vault-like door, its design evoking a familiar pattern. A pattern that...she knew. Ino see it all the time on Grandmasterpon's house. As one in a trance, she quietly walked towards the grand computer (but oh, it was so much more), reaching up as if enraptured. "Ino...is...glad...?"

Her left hand fell upon the computer's surface-

xxxx

Ino awoke in a place that existed nowhere in Aionios, except as forgotten potential. It was a small shack, sitting on a grassy island...surrounded by a sea of clouds, instead of water. Amidst the clouds, fragments of numerous events splashed about like water, unveiling glimpses of Aionios in a burst of memory and spacetime.

Standing at the window of this shack was an Artificial Blade. Ino knew it was an Artificial Blade: even as her image cycled between three bodies — a child with a Jet Biter hanging on her back; a teenager in a maid outfit; an adult with long hair and an even longer scarf — the sensation was unmistakable. "You..." Furthermore, Ino knew of this being. "You are...Progenitor of Ino?"

The Artificial Blade briefly stopped flickering, settling on the adult's body; the designation 'Quantum Technochampion π' helpfully dinged inside Ino's visual interface. "It must be nice..." she said with a deep voice.

Ino blinked. "Meh-meh?"


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wQDBTGhmh0A

"Nature of Origin construction...and then nature of its malfunction...meant that greatest effectiveness would be if Poppi would sit on sidelines. If Poppi would remain in 'QuanTum Paradox Binary Tunneller'...then information could be collated in a manner that would be safe from the enemy. Would always be able to provide data to the one with the Key. Would be able to witness for an effective eternity." Turning away from the window, the Artificial Blade looked at Ino with orange eyes that would have cried if they could. "It is a painful thing, to be separated from friends...and from Masterpon. To see so much, and do so little." Smiling sadly, the woman said, "Poppi is glad...that 'Oosoo' was able to carry on legacy."

Ino gulped with a strange hesitance, unsure as to what she was witnessing. "Did...did Ino make you sad? D-D-Did not mean to!"

"...Poppi is only sad because of circumstances. Poppi look forward to when...this will all be over. Do not think that you've done wrong, acting as you have."

Ino's lip quivered. Why were her emotional gyro-turbines going so wild?! "B-But...Grandmasterpon told Ino to stay away from humans, to only protect Noponkind! If Poppi was watching, then she saw all of Ino's failures! And, and, and-and-"

Poppi QTπ calmly embraced Ino, pressing the smaller Artificial Blade's face into her bare shoulder. "...Poppi likes to think that your Grandmasterpon told you to stay away...because he knew that it would be best. Because he knew that one day, your Driver would appear. And he has. Poppi can sense resonance, even now...of how Ino is connected, body and soul."

(That connection had never faded, despite their distance; even though all of Ouroboros had managed to utilize her 'class' by this point, thanks to their strange powers...only Noah possessed that unique bond. Only her Masterpon was her Driver. Even if Artificial Blades did not possess conventional souls — or did they? It was a nebulous thing to consider, as to when artificial life transitioned to true life — that bond was still something tangible. Something real.)

"How does it feel...?" asked Poppi.

"...like M-M-Masterpon is focused on something big. Like N-Noah has a heart too big for a human body, to hold Ino and all his friends...Mio especially."

"Ah. Mio." Poppi smiled fondly. "It's been so long, since Poppi has seen her, face-to-face..."

"Meh?"

"...maybe, at the end of all this...once Moebius is finally defeated...maybe, Ino will be privileged to witness the things that Poppi has seen." Stepping away, the adult body flickered, giving way to the more childish body designated as 'Alpha.' "Until then, Poppi promise to endure. Will Ino promise to keep fighting?"

At such a heartfelt request from her Progenitor (in so many senses of the word), how could she say anything but 'yes'? "Absotively posilutely! Ino would be honored to engage in Nopon promise ritual!" Excitedly, Ino held up her left hand. "Will make sure to boop with maximum efficiency!"

With a small yet heartfelt smile, Poppi α raised her right hand and gave Ino a high five-

xxxx

-at which point, Ino found herself staring once more at the mainframe containing Poppi, her left hand resting on its surface. "...boop?"

"That's a question I'd like to ask."

Ino yelped with shock, whirling around to face the newcomer. "Ah? It is Queen Nia!" Looking her up and down, she immediately added, "Machiney Queeny status: negatory!"

Nia looked at her with a measured glance. "Was wondering who would step foot into this place while I wasn't around...after all, without my Key, there's nothing here that those Moebius tossers would be interested in...but I can guess as to why you would be interested." Gazing up at the QTP2T, Nia added, "You...could see her, couldn't you?"


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tO_wBSxStl8

"Oh. You refer to Ino's Progenitor." Somehow, it felt that saying Poppi's name out loud — even in front of the QuanTum Paradox Binary Tunneller — felt verboten. "Yes. Ino did so, with heavy yet emotional gusto!"

Gazing quietly at the machine, Nia quietly — hesitantly — asked, "...does she hate me?"

Ino's response was instant. "Of course not! Ino knows this much, without a Gonzalez's shadow of a doubt!"

Nia palpably pondered her next words, before finally asking, "I suppose you couldn't tell me where your 'Grandmasterpon' holed himself up, would you?"

All sorts of warning signs and alarms flared through Ino's internal code. "No can do! Location locked behind super-de-duper classification!" Five very awkward seconds passed. "...Ino apologizes for inconvenience."

"Eh, I suppose it's moot by now...Ouroboros will be invading Origin soon."

"How did Nia get to place? Nopon Caravans last said you were travelling world with Masterpon and his friends!"

"Those kids dropped me off at Agnus Castle...and I had a Levnis bring me here," she said, walking towards the southward railing that overlooked a vast swath of Aetia, with the regions of Cadensia and Fornis being tiny blobs from her current perspective. Sure enough, a City Levnis was resting at the base of the stairway. "I have to be here, for when the time finally comes to act..."

(How little did she know, that Ouroboros's incursion into Origin would be delayed by the rescue of Queen Melia...but that's a story for another time.)

"...if end is about to happen, would it be okay if Ino stayed?"

"...only if you're willing to share some stories about what you've been up to over all these years," remarked Nia with a toothy grin.

Ino beamed brightly. "Ino's fan has never been so tastic! Experiences as Champon of Noponkind, and then as Blade for Noah, are great and noble!"

(If the Artificial Blade's stories were somewhat bombastic in their retelling...then it was only fitting, given Ino's audience of two.)

(Even if Poppi's witnessed all of your stories...it's more fun to hear them being told by a friend.)

xxxx

Naturally, Poppi's memory was much better than Nia's.

As such, when the end was finally upon them — when Origin slowly began to churn, and the world prepared to split back into two — there was no reason to remain within the QTP2T. In those last moments before Aionios separated into its component halves, when Poppi exchanged a cheerful smile of relief with Nia...she spoke truly.

"Poppi does not hate Nia."

"...ah. So you heard."

"Of course!"

"...I wouldn't blame you, after being cooped up in there for so long-"

"Poppi already told you. Poppi doesn't hate Nia. End of story."

"...you Artificial Blades are really one-of-a-kind, aren't ya?"

"Of course!" Poppi said, on her behalf and Ino's. "That go without saying!"

And then the frozen time began to flow.

xxxx

Author's Note: I'm leaving Oosoo's identity somewhat vague, so as to leave me some wiggle room in case future DLC showcases his true identity.

As a side note, the 'QuanTum Paradox Binary Tunneller' in acronym form would be QTP2T...or, if said out loud and real quickly: 'cutie patootie'.

I make no apologies, have a nice day.

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

/Time: Thirty Years Before the Main Plot/

/Elgares Depths, Millick Meadows, Aetia Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dJ8kr6BXoE

Gray's investigation into these cavernous tunnels — seeking out odd metallic fragments of metal for Samon that bore certain, 'distinct' characteristics; a side job of sorts, to occupy himself between missions to find a mythical Ouroboros Stone — had been sidelined by a strange enemy: a Levnis that looked like a miniature Ferronis; bipedal; one with cloaking technology.

The glowing flames of the machine's ether axes flared brightly in the cavernous dark, playing havoc with his vision. He nonetheless avoided the strikes as best he could, firing his handguns at the center of mass. The local monsters hissed at the noise they made, which was another inconvenience; the more racket they made, the likelier they would get swarmed. This thing had to be tracking me. It waited until I got far enough from the entrance to ambush me. He summoned one of his drones, which released a constant stream of burning ether; the machine crossed its axes to block the stream, splitting it into a shower of sparks and bright lines. It gave Gray enough time to retreat further upward, before his drone got bashed to pieces. Tch. Persistent.

(Part of him pondered the practicality of his cloak, given that it flapped with rapid movement and gave away his position.)

(It's good for hiding your movements before you strike. Plus, you make it look good.)

(Not that he'd ever say the last part out loud. Bragging was for losers.)

Finally, he neared daylight: the long slope that led out of the Elgares Depths was within reach. Hope that lunk hears us coming. Leaping into the main tunnel, he spun around to open fire at his mysterious pursuer. Bullets and ether blasts crashed into the invisible foe, brightening its contours into slight visibility; the axes flared brightly, turning into blue beacons in the dim light.

"HUARGH!!!"

With a mighty war cry, a hulking brute of a man suddenly slammed his fist into the machine: it was a right straight of immense force, forcing the machine off balance and into the nearest wall. "Got yourself in a spot of trouble, eh?" grunted Guernica Vandham, his impressive pompadour wiggling from movement.

"Just make sure that thing's dead!" roared Gray, firing with abandon at the blasted machine now that it couldn't immediately defend itself.

"Fine by me!" yelled Guernica, pulling out his rifle and firing on full auto.

The salvo lasted for ten seconds; it was enough to render the mech inoperable, its cycloptic helm going dark. The invisibility tech failed, and the bipedal machine fell to its knees. The breastplate of the odd Levnis had been utterly demolished, exposing busted ether cylinders...and a pilot. "...someone's in there."

With his typical gusto, Guernica stepped forward, using his gloved hands to rip apart the damaged carapace; true enough, the pilot inside looked like a young Kevesi girl with silvery hair, no older than a sixth-termer. Beyond her two-toned skin, the most distinctive feature was the metallic horns protruding from her head like antennae. Her bodysuit bore bloody stains, as her torso had been perforated by their last attack. The red motes quietly leaking from her body signified her demise. "Poor sheila. Wonder what Colony she's with?"

"More importantly, what kind of machine is this?" grumbled Gray, resisting the urge to remove his eyepatch so he could scan it with his Iris. (Rule one of operating outside of the City: never remove the eyepatch. Ever.) "I've not seen the likes of it before."

"...think it could be why our solo scavengers have been getting picked off over the last few years?" wondered Vandham aloud, looking about with sudden concern. "Invisible Levnis, striking like an assassin? Would make sense..."

"...we should move," muttered Gray, memorizing the image of the girl's face. "I doubt something like this would be working alone."

"We should at least take it with us; let the eggheads back home tinker with it. You know they'll all be into it."

Before Gray could ponder Guernica's idea further, his sense for danger roared. "Get back!" Sure enough, two pairs of burning axes emerged out of thin air, slicing at where he and Vandham had once stood. The duo impulsively opened fire as they retreated up the slope; the invisible newcomers blocked their bullets with ease, but seemed uninterested in pursuing them further. "How far away is our ride?!"

"Less than a klick by the lake!" roared Vandham.

Gray grunted, firing a concentrated charge into the ground to loosen it up; as rocks and dirt began to slide down, he focused on running with all speed up the slope. "That'll slow them down if they try to pursue." It galled, that this foray into the Depths would be for naught. "...how about you? Find anything?"

"Jack and shit," griped Vandham, keeping an easy pace with him. "We busted up a new weapon, though! I count that as a positive!"

"...hrm." It was something to think about later.

(It would be many years until he ran into another Ferron.)

xxxx

Minutes after the two Lost Numbers had retreated — after their miniature landslide had forced the two Ferrons to stand protectively in front of their fallen comrade — a distinctive sound echoed through tunnel, accompanied by flashing purple motes.

Consul F — having teleported from afar — stared down at the ruined Ferron and the deceased pilot with a detached eye. "Alas, poor Number Seven," stoically said the Moebius. "Number Twelve, Number Thirteen: dispose of her remains. Leave no trace."

"Yes, sir," quietly echoed the voices of the other two Ferron pilots.

As all traces of Number Seven and her ruined Ferron were sliced, diced, and incinerated with machine-like proficiency, F pondered and mentally critiqued her performance. That was definitely the most capable combatant we've encountered thus far from those Cityfolk. A shame that I couldn't get more useful data. If nothing else, he couldn't help but applaud the tactical capabilities and fighting skills of her last opponents. Oh, if only their lives could inherently contribute to a Flame Clock...then they could be put to so much better use from the start. What a pity, that we're forced to simply reduce third-party interference to an...'acceptable' level. Frustrations with the metaphysical difficulties presented by Cityfolk aside, this incident solidified the reality that the Ferrons, as currently constituted, were not as combat-capable as they could be. Ether cylinders are easy enough to utilize for fuel, but the output is handicapped because of it...if only there were a way to obtain better synchronicity between the machine and its pilot. It would also save on the time needed to train the soldiers of Colony 0, thus enabling them to have more time in their short lives to act with purpose, and with results. Hmm...perhaps I'll consult with Y at our next encounter...

"The task is complete, sir," numbly said Thirteen.

"Excellent work, Number Thirteen. You and Number Twelve may return to the Ecto Hollow until your next mission."

Twelve solemnly went invisible, his Ferron's steps echoing through the tunnel as he departed. Thirteen, however, remained. "Consul F, sir...I request permission to self-terminate once I return to Colony 0," asked Thirteen.

Already, Thirteen's tone had lost some of its characteristic defiance. "...your telepathic bond with Number Seven is truly something, Number Thirteen," stoically mused F. "But our mission is a sacred duty...and the loss of one of my lambs is always present as a risk. However, mercy is not to be rejected if it allows for a greater outcome...so with that in mind: depending on your future performance, I will consider synchronizing Number Seven's growth module so that she will not return until after your time has come to an end."

"Thank you, sir," remarked Thirteen.

F then turned away without another word. Perhaps I'll have solved this conundrum with the Ferrons' energy supply by the time Number Seven is reborn...and I'll have to make sure that Number Thirteen's next mission is a suicide run. After all, every time her twin passes away before she does, her performance always degrades to an unacceptable level...a shame, that Number Thirteen lacks Number Seven's fortitude. These thoughts and more occupied the Moebius's mind as he warped away.

xxxx

Years passed. Number Seven lived twice more over in that time. During this span, the Ferrons had been modified to primarily utilize a personalized Flame Clock as its fuel...and to so much greater effect. Colony 0 changed locations numerous times in that timespan, residing within the Ecto Hollow, upon the Forerunners' Tower, atop the Cotte Fountainhead, and so on.

It was then, in the midst of Number Seven's next chance at life — her third reincarnation since her death at the hands of Gray and Vandham, during which Colony 0 was based by the Nocclia Mire upon Captocorn Peak — that she encountered Ouroboros...but you all know that story by now.

We thus enter the present day, after she had donned the name of Segiri...

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 6, during Ouroboros's Travels with Triton, before Unlocking the Cloudkeep/

/Apex Wing, Dannagh Desert, Fornis Region/

Gray would have rather spent his time tailing Ouroboros, if he could be perfectly honest. (If nothing else, it would keep his mind from wondering as to whether they were keeping out of trouble. Eunie would never let him hear the end of it if she knew.)

(Rozana knows, and you can barely deal with her sly little smile as is. Can you imagine what those brats would do if they found out?)

However, the movements of the unliberated Colonies still needed to be tracked, to ensure that they would not be striking at Ouroboros's allies. There was a definite change in the air, he could tell: a sense that the City would be coordinating with liberated Colonies to a degree that had not been done in ages. (Perhaps to the same level as the time of the Founders? There was no way of knowing.) Until that consummation, Gray would do whatever dirty work was needed.

And right now, that dirty work entailed finding out what had destroyed two squads: one Kevesi, one Agnian. The Levnis wreckage in the sands was not even a week old, and whatever remained of the soldiers was...unknown. (Corpses rendered down so as to hide the bodies? Barely living soldiers thrown to wild beasts before they became husks? Dead bodies thrown into one of the area's numerous sand pits? There was no way of knowing...only that, whatever had been done, there weren't any red motes floating around.) Regardless, the condition of the Levnises indicate that they had been scavenged for parts. "Hmm." Internal components only; non-interchangeable parts unique to certain Kevesi models were ignored. And as for the Agnian Levnises...they're only missing parts that could be jury-rigged to work with Kevesi tech...curious.

He focused more intently at the damage: jagged strikes, with ether scoring. Pretty deep cuts, but the lines aren't long enough to indicate a long blade...they're more akin to something like...an axe. Why was this ringing a bell-? DODGE!


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGyDtOCeUEs

Gray threw himself to the side, ignoring twin ether axes that attempted to cut him to pieces. They belonged to an invisible mech that rang so many bells that it wasn't funny; snarling, Gray fired his handguns and summoned his Blade's drones, unleashing deadly ether streams in a sweeping pattern. The mech leapt above his blows, landing a small distance away; surprisingly, the invisibility cloak faded, revealing a very familiar form. Save for the coat of dark red paint, the purple Flame Clock in the sternum, and the fact that the helm had more glowing ocular sensors...it was a dead ringer for the unit he had encountered decades ago.

(It didn't match any of the units that had recently taken up residence in Li Garte Prison, at least according to Ghondor's reports. 'Ferron' was apparently their official designation.)

(This thing may be a threat to those brats, then. A wild card like this is dangerous to let live...you have to deal with it.)

"How curious," echoed the machine; the voice of the pilot, no doubt...and a young female, from the sound of it. "One of those 'third-party troublemakers' that Moebius always despised." There was a strange liveliness to her tone, bordering on the verge of mania. "A shame...it would have been interesting, to ally with one of their enemies, to tear down this rotten world of theirs...but I can't get it out of my head that you once killed Number Seven. And that just makes me want to murder you SLOWLY."

Gray had only fought and defeated one Ferron in his entire life...which meant this Ferron's pilot could only be referring to the young woman he and Guernica had killed thirty years ago.

(That was impossible; her memory would have had to be retained through the cycle of rebirth, which just wasn't a thing...with the exception of traumatic memories, according to certain City historians.)

(You killing her comrade might qualify as a traumatic memory. Maybe that girl was to her what Guernica was to you?)

(That would do it.)

"Whatever grudge you have isn't my business," grunted Gray, steeling his nerves for battle. "But dying's not on my to-do list for today."

"That's okay. I can make your death last until tomorrow if I'm careful...maybe I can make it a week!" With a deranged yell, the Ferron's Flame Clock burned, and its frame surged with violet flames.

What followed was a daring dance of death; Gray definitely wasn't as spry as he had been thirty years ago...but he'd become more wily, more skilled. Despite the Ferron's speed and power, the pilot's maneuvers were somewhat predictable in their movements. Economy of motion was the name of the game; with each evasion, he got off potshots at the joints, whilst utilizing his drones for sustained bursts of ether energy at the center of mass.

Little by little, he seemingly whittled away at the implacable Ferron...until, at last, the machine backed away. Gray kept his weapons at the ready.

"...a shame. I need to do some maintenance. And I've used up more of my flame than I wanted to..." The Ferron glanced eastward; an Agnian transport Levnis was flying through the sky, hugging the imaginary threshold at which the landmass below gave way to open air. "Oh well, you win some, you lose some! Be sure not to die until I can kill you!" The Ferron promptly went invisible.

Gray unleashed a few more sweeps of ether from his Blade, keeping an eye on the sand for the Ferron's tracks...after minutes passed with no further harassment, he finally lowered his weapons. "Hmm." She retreated. I'll have to make a report about this...whoever that pilot was, she's belligerent against everyone. Looking around with wariness, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. Best to get a move on.

The man in black continued his trek through the desert: a gunslinger ready to fight at a moment's notice...

xx

Meanwhile, within the adjacent Eagus Wilderness, another Ferron — fully cloaked — had been cataloguing signal intelligence.

The presence of a particular signal rocked the Ferron's pilot to his core. "That signal belonged to...Number Thirteen's Ferron..." whispered Number Six with trepidation. Could she...still be alive...?

This merited further investigation.

xxxx

That particular Agnian supply convoy belonged to Colony Lambda; it would not be the last one that Number Thirteen assaulted.

Thirteen's future attack on a transport belonging to Captain Whitby would end up providing a key clue for Ouroboros and Segiri to track her down...but they wouldn't have thought to investigate, were it not for Number Six stumbling upon her Ferron's signal whilst on reconnaissance. (One wonders if she would not have been detected, had Gray not kept her in one location for a relatively extended period of time...)

But that story has been told elsewhere.

So let us turn to slightly further into the future...

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, after Ouroboros completed their Hunt for the Origin Shards with Queen Nia/

/Li Garte Prison, Agnus Castle Barbican, Cadensia Region/

After Ouroboros had finished obtaining the last of the Origin metal needed for Samon's upgrades, they had spent those few days of mandatory 'downtime' (as if those brats ever paused to truly rest) taking care of various affairs around Agnus Castle. With Queen Nia having returned to reclaim her proverbial 'throne', the locals were in a somewhat jovial mood...which also explained why Triton was randomly wandering about the premises to 'absorb the atmosphere', but that was neither here nor there. (And in all honesty, after the impromptu battle in the Malevolent Hollow alongside Triton and Nia against a bunch of monsters, Gray had had enough of the eccentric Moebius to last a lifetime.)

In that time, Ouroboros had also attended to Colony 0...including a certain mission involving a rogue Ferron of sorts.

(He privately wondered if any of his recent reports had contributed to that fateful encounter.)

Even so, he had a bit of time to spare; once Ouroboros was ready to assault Origin, the Lost Numbers would all be mobilizing accordingly. Thus...it was now, or never.

Hence why Gray was leaning against the wall near the entrance to Li Garte Prison; he hadn't bothered hiding his presence in the least.

Sure enough, it didn't take long before a familiar face walked outside. "Number Six...I mean, Ix...informed me about the presence of an intruder. However, you have not exhibited any offensive or belligerent actions since arriving. Furthermore, you are in our database as the Ouroboros ally known as 'Gray'."

"Hmm."

"...hmm?" Segiri tilted her head. "I do not understand that query."

...this is getting nowhere. Huffing, Gray stared intently at her with his visible eye. "Do you recognize me?"

The girl peered quietly at him, stoically analyzing his entire frame. After a few seconds, she blinked with distant recognition. "Oh. Strange. I seem to recall a latent memory. How curious. You were responsible for my death in a prior instance." The girl seemed surprised by this. "This is an unusual phenomenon. Personal information like memories should have been filtered by my growth module."


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dhIfYnzbvYY

Gray privately wondered if whatever Moebius mumbo-jumbo had gone into Colony 0 was responsible for such relatively easy memory recall. "I'm not in the habit of owing favors to people for long." It wasn't the first time in his long life that he'd run into a Kevesi or an Agnian that he'd had to kill before...but this was definitely the first time that someone remembered him killing them, which was bizarre enough. "Since you remember me killing you, I figure that merits at least one favor."

"...but why? There doesn't appear to be a logical motive or necessity for this action."

"You don't have to understand it. But it's something I have to do."

Segiri seemed truly dumbfounded. "...I am unsure about this scenario. There is very little that you could offer that I or Colony 0 need. Your function as an ally of Ouroboros...is what I would have had you do regardless. Requesting for you to do anything else would be...illogical."

"...hmm." At least the girl was easy to negotiate with. (She'd have to work on that, to avoid getting taken advantage of...then again, most people were probably too terrified of her imposing Ferron to think of swindling her. It would take the likes of a particularly gutsy or foolish Nopon to try and pull one over on a Colony full of kids who could each control murderous mechs.)

xx

Inside the prison cafeteria, a green Nopon with swirly glasses suddenly sneezed. "Meh! Who talking about Wheelideeli?!"

xx

Even so, Rozana had at least made sure to make him bring something along as a backup plan. "Then I'll consider the favor repaid in advance." Gray promptly pulled out a large paper sack from within his cloak, holding it aloft. "This concludes our business. Take it."

If nothing else, this would remove one more unnecessary distraction from his mind.

xx

Segiri obediently did so, despite her confusion. "What is this?" Gray had already begun walking away, not even answering her. "Um..." Her query had not been answered; what an unusual specimen, 'Gray' was. "Hmm..." I...could just open it. Number Seven, Segiri orders you to investigate. She promptly opened the bag, revealing it to be full of some kind of snack. "Some type of food?" Pulling it out, she investigated it with a curious expression; it appeared to be formed of puffed-up rice, covered in a brown substance. "Hmm..." Tentatively, she took a bite.

Her eyes widened with disbelief. "?!?"

She took another bite. "Initial conclusion: overly sweet. Most likely high in caloric intake...yet such concerns seem irrelevant."

She would have to share with everyone else, to see if they disagreed with her preliminary finding.

xx

Gray went still as he exited the grounds of Li Garte Prison; underneath a nearby tree, a familiar mech decloaked. "...what was your purpose in coming here?" asked Number Thirteen from within her Ferron, which still bore its own Flame Clock.

How curious; she must have escaped before those brats could destroy it...hmph. Not my business. "Just settling the score. Balancing the ledger, if you will," freely admitted Gray.

"...what was that parcel you left with Number Seven?" As if catching herself, she added, "With Segiri, I mean?"

"Choclit rice cakes," he casually admitted. "My wife had me bring them along as insurance."

"Wife? Insurance?" The pilot seemed genuinely confused by those terms.

"Nothing a kid like you needs to worry about." Crossing his arms, Gray cautiously asked, "...not going to ask about the food?"

"I am familiar with rice. I've only ever had choclit once." The Ferron seemed to fidget. "That was probably my favorite convoy raid," she said with palpable nostalgia.

"If you're quick, they'll have enough for you," he grunted, sensing some long, complicated history between the maniacal Ferron pilot and her comrades; he wasn't going to pick at those emotional scabs. But letting her know the option existed was fair game, at the very least.

"...it wouldn't be prudent, for me to go back now." Thirteen sounded frustrated by this. "But I can sense from our connection...that she is enjoying herself. So...I will accept the fact that you have made amends, with Segiri."

"Hmm." Your compliance wasn't a factor.

"...I still really want to murder you, though," grumbled Thirteen. "Can I at least stab you? It'll make me feel better!"

Gray huffed, suddenly noticing the presence of someone bothersome. "Can't help you there."

"...not even once?"

"If you're looking for a fight, the fellow next to you will be more accommodating."

Confused by his words, the pilot turned her Ferron, only to go still at the sight of none other than Moebius T. "Well now, was wondering about the commotion I was hearin'! Haven't run into one of F's little munchkins in a while...how's that old shellhead, anyhow? Is he still kickin'?"

"Moebius," hissed Thirteen, impulsively unsheathing her axes. "Die!"

"HA!" exclaimed Triton, parrying her ether weapons with his glowing boat hooks. "And ye've got just as much moxie as ever!"

Gray promptly ignored the frustrated screams from Number Thirteen and the joyful bombast of Triton as their melee turned violent. He'd done his part...now it was time to focus on the upcoming battles.

(He was sure Segiri and her fellow Ferron tykes were much the same.)

xxxx

Meanwhile, the telepathic bond between the twins roiled with interesting emotions.

Segiri felt alarmed by the closeness of Thirteen's frustration...yet the residual image of Triton bled through, so she knew there was no danger.

Even so...Segiri made sure to save at least one choclit rice cake for her sister.

xxxx

Author's Note: Might as well make use of those random Keves vs. Agnus fights you see in the Dannagh Desert during Chapters 6 and/or 7.

Also, an interesting little tidbit that came to mind whilst revisiting Segiri's Ascension Quest: when telling Ouroboros about Number 13, Segiri indicates that Thirteen and her Ferron were lost "several years ago"...but she and Thirteen are explicitly designated as third-termers on the Affinity Chart. This would mean that this 'telepathic bond' they made such a big deal about could have only lasted through the end of their first term, if that.

So how to square this apparent contradiction?

It soon hit me that Segiri is aware of Moebius, and of the growth modules (speaking blithely to Sena about how personal identification is stripped from Colony 0 units at the time of rebirth). So unless there's a contrary bit of side dialogue that I'm not currently aware of, it's not beyond the realm of possibility that they're also aware of the cycle of rebirth...and that Seven and Thirteen's telepathic bond (probably something to do with their Mechon-esque horns and the fact that they're twins) is likewise something which persists from life to life. This would also explain why Segiri was able to open the locked door to the Ecto Hollow during her Ascension Quest...because she's been there before. Which implies Colony 0 has been there before.

/also, the mental image of Number Thirteen being all 'vengeance is mine!' against any and all things Moebius
//and Triton just laughing like a grandpa going 'aw, that's adorable!'
///is too much for me right now

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

During the time of Ouroboros's imprisonment, the liberated Kevesi Colonies received visits from a Consul.

N to 11; D to 4; C to 9; J to 30.

Colony 15 was a bit of an odd duck, seeing as how its commander was also a Moebius...but his cooperation had been relatively easy to gain.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 5, during Ouroboros's Imprisonment in Agnus Castle/

/Hargan Point, Erythia Sea, Cadensia Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p61FH_RbGHY

Triton had been lost in thought when the telltale sound of a Moebius warping jolted him out of his reverie. "Hmm?" Looking over his shoulder, he remarked, "Ah, if it ain't good ol' N..."

The Lord High Consul of Keves stared coldly at Triton, his eyes shimmering like ice behind his mask. "Reflecting on your failure, T?"

Triton turned back to his old Ferron, its broken Flame Clock standing out like a sore thumb. "Nah, was just thinkin' about something...not sure what it was, now. Lost me train of thought, no thanks to ye."

"Hmph." N, hand resting on the hilt of his Blade, remarked, "I'm certain you've heard by now of Ouroboros's capture."

"Kinda hard to ignore all the ruckus from that there Prison Camp," he mused, thinking back to the sound of explosions that had echoed from Li Garte; how many days ago had that been, now? "Didn't get no Iris message, either."

"...you have an Iris," dryly observed N.

Triton hummed. That SOUNDS right...did I get a message? He wasn't sure. "Eh, wouldn't be surprised if it's on the fritz, if it's as old as I am..." (The thought that he had simply forgotten the message ironically slipped his mind.)

N simply scoffed. "What a wretched state you've fallen to...regardless, know that Ouroboros will be executed during the upcoming Eclipse, less than a month from now." His hand, clenching onto the hilt of his sword, was impossibly audible. "Whatever foolishness convinced you to throw your lot with them...know that should you step one foot onto the grounds of Agnus Castle, Z's retribution will be unpleasant."

"Ha! If Z is that bothered, he sure hasn't let me know about it." Not that he'd had much cause for teleporting to that musty excuse for a theater, as of late. (Come to think of it, did he remember the precise coordinates...?)

"I can only assume that Z is somehow entertained by your juvenile tantrums," said N. "But entertainment can only go so far; the passage of fate for the next Homecoming has been set in stone. Any attempt at meddling will be punished. Severely." The sheer condescension in his voice was palpable. "Continue your meandering elsewhere however you'd like; Agnus Castle is off-limits until after Homecoming. Ignore this warning to your own eternal detriment."

At N's chilling words, Triton could only chuckle; a stray thought was caught before it could vanish into the depths of his ancient mind. "Gotta say, N...that lad, Noah? His face is certainly more appealing than yours; he can actually smile worth a damn. Ye ever thought about the last time ye smiled because somethin' made you happy?"

CRASH!

Triton grimaced from the sudden impact to his torso; in the blink of an eye, N had smashed the sheath of his Blade across his body, releasing a concussive impact that threw him into the nearby cliffside. The impact of his helmeted head smacking into hard rock rattled his brain.

N, his face set into a hateful sneer, spoke with an icy tone that was as cold as it was vicious. "You speak nonsense, old man. Noah is nothing more than a failure: a wretched example of what happens when you try to rise against Moebius. He will be yet another lesson to all: a lesson about the consequences of trying to fight the very world itself. That fact is set in stone...and it will not change." Turning away, N sounded as one trying not to snarl with disgust. "You have been warned, Consul T." Without another word, he teleported away.

The wizened Moebius grimaced, shaking his head to clear the spots in his vision; only instincts bred from countless years of battle had caused his helm to manifest over his head, right before the moment of impact. As it was, he'd only have to deal with a bruise instead of a bloody gash...if that. "Hah...wonder what it was I said to make him so salty?" All thought of what he had been here for had been knocked away by N's impromptu attack...yet, there was a strange bit of clarity that the pain had imparted. "Hmm." An old streak of mischievousness arose, eliciting a grin from the ancient warrior. "...well, he said not to go to Agnus Castle...he was clear on that," Triton said aloud to himself. "Guess I have no choice but to listen to 'em."

Chuckling to himself, Triton went on a bit of a walk, trying to wrangle the thoughts in his mind into something assembling a coherent plan.

xxxx

It wouldn't be until he witnessed Consul M's encounter with Fiona that Triton would have a clearer direction...but that story's for another time.

Speaking of M: she had volunteered to handle the liberated Agnian Colonies which were most likely to interfere...Mu being the first.

Tau was off-limits, seeing as how Consul U had made it very clear to the other Moebius that they were her 'pets'. There was a certain understanding, implicit amongst their kind, to not interfere with Colonies that were not currently under their aegis. Doing so would have betrayed the fact that M was no longer such, but Mio in disguise.

As for Lambda, Iota, and Gamma? J no longer cared for Isurd's Colony after its Flame Clock had been broken...and Ouroboros had already destroyed E and G, the respective Consuls overseeing Alexandria and Teach. Those three were fair game.

But her warnings for those three were likewise for another time...as something else requires our focus, currently.

xxxx

/Captocorn Pass, Captocorn Peak, Aetia Region/

Mio (you're M; you must not be Mio until it's over) stood atop a snowy ridge, gazing upon the distant climes of Aetia and Cadensia.

She had secretly informed Monica and Ghondor about the existence of the Annihilator...and obtained their promise that the Lost Numbers wouldn't interfere at Agnus Castle until after the Homecoming had concluded. (To think that the City was actually bound within a massive Ferronis! No wonder they had avoided Moebius for so long.) She had delivered her warnings to Fiona; to Isurd; to Alexandria; to Teach. She would have to trust in their sense of self-preservation, in their ability to keep a level head.

At last...there was only counting down the days until the Eclipse.

Looking up into the sky, the moon's shape was of a waning gibbous; in less than two weeks would be the new moon...and then the reckoning.

Her attitude of forced detachment was the only reason she hadn't been overwhelmed by the flux of memories that M had carried with her: countless years, treading through the ebb and flow of an unending war...extending mercy here and there, whenever she found the opportunity, if only to remain sane...watching as N slowly but surely descended further and further into his own self-imposed hell, where not even her touch could warm his heart...

(It should have been hard, intellectually speaking; N was literally a past incarnation of Noah, so they were the same...her memories of the man she had come to love should have been tainted.)

(Yet you know that Noah would never have such cold and malicious eyes...you know this, because you're alive.)

Such a dreadful curse, to become a Moebius: to witness and remember the memories of all your past lives...to witness the failure that had culminated in a terrible choice.

(She had always died before Noah. Always. It was an unyielding constant.)

(And now, M is going to die first, once more...leaving N behind. Yet again, the constant endures.)

The wretched agony of it all made her want to scream. Yet she couldn't; the weight of the silver mask upon her face served as a palpable reminder of her current circumstances. M had long become inured to the turmoil in her heart...and therefore, so did Mio.

It was why she didn't flinch when a message came through to her Iris. "N."

"When will you return to Agnus Castle? Your presence as the Prime Consul will be expected," he calmly said, his open face floating in front of a guardrail overlooking Erythia Sea; in the background behind N, she could see the image of the Great Sword in her Iris.

"After a thousand years, these Homecoming events have become tedious." She spoke as one bored, yet with sincere honesty; M had truly become desensitized to the dreadful ceremony of the Homecoming. (After all, it was because of her influence that the first off-seeing ceremony had been done, over a thousand years ago.)

(What irony, that a past version of yourself was the cause of the role you once despised? The role that Miyabi taught you so much about...would it have spread, without you?)

N hummed out of seeming agreement. "Tedious though it may be, it is still necessary. Especially given the current crop that shall be reaped."

Mio forced herself to ignore the striking malice underlying N's words; his utter antipathy towards Ouroboros was palpable...and in light of M's memories, she had a good idea as to why. (She couldn't say so aloud. Not yet. Not yet!) "It is strangely ironic, to see our faces on other people; if only they had learned the lessons we did, their fate might have been better."

"An impossibility, alas; fated to die as they are, they are doomed to perish before they could embrace the truth of this world."

"Indeed," she relented, mentally recoiling from the 'truth' he so fervently believed in. "I feel no need to witness the futility of their struggle. Given their impending execution, there is little point."

N chuckled. "A fair point...but with my other tasks completed, there is nothing left to do but savor every last drop," he said, with an almost maniacal relish. "To remind myself of the reason we chose Moebius...such an opportunity does not come around very often."

Why do you despise yourself so?! Oh, how she wanted to rage at how he enjoyed the torment of her friends and comrades! Why can't you see what's become of you!? "I suppose it doesn't...I will be back before the Eclipse."

N slowly nodded. "I look forward to it."

Just a hint of warmth; a slight trace of affection, left only for her; a damning reminder that N — in whatever delusion he had thrown himself into over so many years — believed he had done all of this for her. Say my name, thought Mio, feeling a strong impulse from a string of memories that had become more and more common to M in recent decades. Say it!

"Good night, M."

"Good night, N," Mio calmly said, as her Iris shut off. Moments later, a single tear leaked out; it immediately froze from the cold, before blowing away into icy flakes. And so it continues...

She let the cold buffet her; it was a soothing balm for her spirit, tamping down the tempest within her heart. It also forced her to listen...there.


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9BerYbSMH8

From an unknown distance, the sound of a familiar flute could be heard; against all odds, Colony Omega still stood...and so did Miyabi. (M had known this...however, the Consul had not possessed the same connection to Miyabi that she did.)

(You nearly keeled over upon realizing their existence. Wouldn't that have been a swift way of being discovered?)

...hold on Miyabi, prayed Mio within her mind and soul, letting the sad and lonely tune echo through the air. Once this is over...we'll come for you.

xxxx

At last...we turn to N.

xxxx

After...'counseling' Colony 11...N had been present to ensure that Shania was properly connected to the Flame Clock system, along with her cohorts. It was a testament to an eternal truth: those who professed to be outside the flow were not immune to being swept away by its current. Seeing their Ouroboros eyes — a latent symbol of their rebellious heritage — become devoured by the glow of the Flame Clock...was strangely vindicating.

(This world could not exist without Moebius. To go against them was tantamount to suicide.)

(Perhaps they will be spared your pain, if they simply resign themselves to the flow.)

At last...there were less than two weeks until the Eclipse. Until then...he had nothing better to do, but to listen to Ouroboros's futile attempts at escaping.

He must have seemed like an odd specter to the guards, hovering beyond the sight of both cells; he was, however, close enough to hear them strike at the walls and the bars. The uselessness of it all was a balm to his soul. Strike at your prison all you'd like, Noah; you cannot escape your fate. (After all, he certainly hadn't.)

(Had you not become Moebius...you'd be him. And wouldn't that be a wretched fate?)

Every so often, he heard Ouroboros speak to each other; their attempts at whispering were not quiet enough to escape his ears. They sounded so lost, so utterly defeated: knowing that they had no choice but to wait.

He was halfway tempted to interrupt whenever they tried to speak across to Mio...but no. She was not his Mio. She was not M: the one who had endured the Endless Now together, with him. To let them have these last moments...was both a mercy and a curse: a beautiful dagger, driving the sorrow ever deeper.

Hearing Noah's agonized breaths, his muffled tears...it was like reliving ancient memories: every single failure, brought back to life.

N drank it all in, as a man dying of thirst; their pain was proof that he was right. Their suffering was testimony to the inevitability of Moebius. To be presented with defeat and loss in such stark terms was to experience penance, to be set free from any and all doubts. (After all, even if he was a Moebius...he was also a human.)

(And mere humans are so weak, aren't they? You'd know better than anyone.)

He remained, running on the life of his immortal body; even as the days piled on, he maintained his vigil.

Then, at long last...it was the night of the new moon, before the Eclipse. Ouroboros had all but stopped trying to escape now, resigned to the inevitable.

It was then, that N heard Noah speak.

"Do you think an off-seer...can ever reach others?" he asked his comrades, voice muffled by stone and distance. As Noah spoke in hoarse tones, N strained his ears, focusing on every single syllable. "You know...I thought...our lives were like our music. Always in our hands, under our control...I wasn't facing the truth. Even if I could reach people, I wouldn't be able to save them...I should've known that." There was a hiss of breath, followed by a quivering voice. Noah was doubtless on the verge of tears. "It's unbearable...seeing lives slip away from you...even though they're right there..." He was finally beginning to sob. "What am I even doing...?"


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ApcbKY2JrMs

N resisted the urge to snarl out of spite. You brought this upon yourself. You tried to change the world. If you were truly me, you would have known that this was doomed to fail from the start.

Then...Mio spoke from her lonely cell. "It's dark out, huh...? No moon." She sounded strangely lighthearted, for one facing their death. N forced himself to listen to Mio's fainter voice. "But...the starlight...it's so nice and warm..." Calling out to Noah, she said, "Hey...when the two of us first met. You asked me if I wanted to survive."

N suddenly felt weary, mouthing words he hadn't spoken in so long. 'Mio,' he silently said, without a sound, "do you want to survive?' He had spoken those words long ago, in a life long lost; a life where he had been the one to pull Mio away from Agnus, to fight against Moebius alongside the soldiers of the first City. She didn't mind either way...and yet she still chose me.

"I replied...I didn't mind either way." N ignored Noah's subsequent affirmation, waiting for Mio to continue. "I'll correct that. Now I...want to live. To live, and learn...a whole lot more...Noah...there's so much for us to see..."

...M once said those words to me. How strange, to hear how his Mio's life could echo into that of a future incarnation; how devastatingly poignant, to think of those wretched times, where he had been so full of naive hope. Over and over, he had pulled Mio with him into damnation...but she had not cared, because she was with him. They had had each other. I once believed that would be enough; so long as you were by my side, I thought I could endure whatever the world could throw at me. Then he had lost her...again. And again. And again. Over and over, until the thought of trying again felt like madness. Do you understand now, Noah? N's lips fell into a bitter frown as he brought his focus back to their conversation. Do you understand just how much pain you've invited upon yourself? And for what? What have you gained?!

He finally picked up on Mio's words once more. "But you know, these feelings that grew within me...they're thanks to you. That's why...you're not allowed to say it's been for nothing. You've enriched my life, Noah. That's clear now."

As more of Mio's comrades began to bitterly weep over those words, N found himself getting angrier. Can you bear to listen to this, Noah?! Such wondrous words, all for you...and you'll never get to hear them again! All because you dared to think that you could stem the tide, with your pitiful power! It was utterly galling. You're not me; not anymore...so long as I live, I'll never let your weakness claim me!

At last, there seemed to be a climax to Mio's one-sided conversation. "You know...I don't want this to be it," she said, showcasing a hint of remorse and melancholy. "If I were given the chance...if this road I've walked...were to keep on going....I'd like to spend that time...with my Noah."

Those words broke the dam that was Noah's willpower, as he was reduced to open sobbing.

As for N...he felt strangely cold. I hope you're proud of yourself, Noah. All of this could have been avoided. Yet you thought you could do better...and now, your failure will be an abject lesson for all. (Some part of him felt tempted to bust open those cells; to extend the offer of Moebius to Ouroboros, to let them embrace the Endless Now. Surely they were not so pigheaded!)

(You know full well that they are. You heard from Shania at how they reacted.)

(They could live forever, if they so desired...who would refuse to take such a gift?!)

(And how many times did you have to die before you were finally willing to take Z's offer?)

Without another word, N finally walked away.

xx

(Little did he know, that Mio's ears — upright and open to hear as much as she could — had picked up his oh-so-familiar steps.)

(Little did he know, that Mio — nay, M — had meant those words in more than one way. They were for Noah, on Mio's behalf...for N, on M's behalf...and for her Noah, on behalf of the Mio she used to be.)

Her smile was sad...yet full of a somber joy, knowing that the pain N would soon endure because of this...would be his key to freedom. Goodbye, Noah...I hope that the future will be kinder to you...and this time, our other selves will be around to make sure it happens...

xx

Mio, still in the guise of M, had warped into the VIP quarters of Agnus Castle, where commanders and Consuls usually stayed in relative luxury. She had quietly waited for N to return from wherever he had been waiting. (Inwardly, she privately dreaded being in close quarters with him. Would he be inclined...for something more carnal? Would her trepidation about tomorrow's grand deception be unveiled by her nerves?)

She needn't have worried; when N quietly opened the door — not even knocking, much less warping in — she nearly balked at his appearance. "You look awful," she quietly said.

N looked like he hadn't slept in days. "I...had to witness it all. For me. To remember," he whispered, nearly on the verge of stuttering. With clawed hands, he grabbed her shoulders, looking at her as though he were lost and starving and afraid and furious; it was a heady cocktail of emotion that she could never recall seeing on a human face, much less N's. "So many reminders of what a wretch I used to be...but I'm not that failure anymore. I'm not."

Only her iron will, bolstered by M's memories, prevented Mio from gulping. "You need to sleep," she calmly said. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

N shakily nodded, impulsively drawing her into a feverish embrace. "I always have you," he whispered, as if reassuring himself. "M and N, together always...the two of us, side-by-side...forever..."

"...yes," she whispered, returning the embrace against her better judgment. "Side-by-side." If only he knew, just how far behind he had left M...oh, if only he knew! It was almost painful, realizing how quickly he had fallen asleep against her shoulder. Even though it reassured her that nothing untoward would be happening that night, it still signified just how much turmoil he had subjected himself to, to the point of blinding himself to what was most important.

As she quietly set N down on the large bed, she quietly crept behind him, maintaining a small yet perceptible distance between her and his back. He snores like Noah, she idly thought, which was almost enough to make her cry. N...you're so much like Noah. Yet you've changed so much...for the sake of our eternity, you've done so many horrible things...and so did M, in the vain hope you would one day realize what you'd done. Alas, he never had. I wish...it didn't have to end with such a cruel deception...but this is what we have to do. (She couldn't help but wonder if he had even spared a thought, this past month, as to how many lives he had ended for the sake of their eternity.)

(You can only hope that the shock of it all will wake him up.)

For N's sake...Mio desperately hoped so. She didn't want to think that saving him was hopeless.

Soon, she too fell asleep, dreaming of Noah and Mio: living so many different lives, both good and bad. M's wish...for Noah and I to show you the path you ought to have walked with her...I will see it come true. I swear.

xxxx

And thus came the Day of Fate.

An ominous Eclipse, casting the sky in darkness, with shades of gold along the horizon; a tenth-termer, dissolving into golden motes; a pained scream of Mio's name...and then, an execution stopped in its tracks.

It hadn't taken long for realization to set in for N: to understand that M and Mio had switched weeks ago...to belatedly comprehend that the words of the Mio in that cell had been the words of M, of his Mio...!!

N's shocked scream of agony was a sign that his ways would not be changed so easily.

But you all know how that story ends, don't you?

xxxx

Author's Note: Mmm, that's some good angst.

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

There was a time where off-seeing did not exist as a function.

(In the face of Eunie's disbelief at how Ashera had known about Moebius — about the cycle of rebirth — since before they had ever met, the Commander of Colony 11 could only answer in the form of a short story: "It's from a ridiculously long time ago, a time all but gone from memory. Today, soldiers fight and scrabble to survive for ten years, all to be blessed with the honor of the Homecoming ritual...but once, there was a time when there was no such thing as a Homecoming ritual." Her explanation of its predecessor — a ghastly and bloody ceremony — left Eunie agog.)

However, it had come to occupy a relatively unique function in the world of Aionios: a means of release; of relieving pressure; of expressing grief; of sharing sorrow. Because of this, off-seers seemed to be unusually compassionate relative to their peers.

(As Noah accompanied Schoon — Gamma's off-seer — as part of her lesson, she watched solemnly as the corpses of her fellow Agnians dissolved into a flurry of blue motes. "I wonder...what were these people thinking, when they realized they were dying? I wonder if they wanted to carry on living..." Noah's observation seemed to wash over her ineffectually, as she added, "I feel like...I have no idea what to do...I want to empathize with them, but it feels like my melody just rings hollow...the more people I send off...the emptier I feel inside...")

So much so, that their intentions played a part in the very efficacy of their work.

(As Ouroboros confronted Url, a fourth-termer from Colony 9, the young man spoke earnestly to Noah. "Since I became the off-seer in your place...I sent off friends who died in battle, with all honor and respect. But...everyone who died after the Flame Clock was destroyed...what were those lives for? I felt so much pity for them I couldn't stand it. All I could do was try not to think of anything at all. And when it got to that point, I couldn't raise the motes when I played the melody. I can't...I can't send them off properly." Yet, there was a way to move forward.)

The ubiquity of off-seeing, insofar as Aionios was concerned, could seemingly be credited to a single man.

(It was seemingly a whim by M that stayed V's hand, that prevented a tenth-termer's execution. Into that gap stepped a blonde man playing a distinctive flute: as the tenth-termer dissolved peacefully into golden motes, the man's song seared the moment into everyone's minds. So much so, that not even Consul V could protest.)

The man called Crys. Who did he represent in the world prior to Aionios? What life did he live, in the former realm from which hailed the Bionis and Mechonis?

Such questions are not our concern.

Rather, the pertinent focus...is on why the music drove him so, and why he chose to become Moebius.

xxxx

/Time: Four Years Prior to the Main Plot/

/The Amphitheater, Origin's Core/


View: https://youtu.be/bFeUCVsNAYQ

"A roundabout way of ending it all, is it not?" said an unfamiliar voice.

Crys slowly opened his eyes, wondering why he was alive. I...I gave my farewell to my student...my friend...Noah. His time had been almost up...and yet, the thought of going through his own Homecoming had become a distasteful thing. So much so, that charging into an active battlefield — an elaborate way of committing suicide — had seemed the more viable option. Yet...here I am. Looking around with tired eyes colored a steely blue, Crys observed the grandiose theater, knowing not what it was. "What...?"

"One particular end you judged to be utterly anathema...and so you chose an end of your own making. And yet the life you possessed would come to an end, regardless."

Frowning, Crys looked to his left; a strange man with pale skin — cracked, exuding purple light(?) — and a crimson outfit sat a few seats adjacent, his long hair flowing with a strangely immaculate grace. His calm town was belied by the violet flames which roared from his forehead like horns. "Who are you...where am I...?"

The man did not answer his questions. Instead, he continued pontificating. "Could it be that your attachment to life is stronger than you believe it to be? That your desire to experience life is greater than your desire for rest? You would not be the first..." As he spoke, a certain scene played out on the canvas...a very familiar one, of two Colonies fighting.

Crys's eyes widened as he heard his own voice emerge from all around him, echoing in a haunted way. "Noah, will you keep moving?" At Noah's confusion, he added, "Me, I'm good here."

The footage once more went silent, prompting the mysterious man to ask, "What, precisely, was 'good' in that moment? What was 'good' to you?"

"...before I answer your questions, I would like to know who you are...and where I am," cautiously inquired Crys.

"My name is Z," immediately answered the man. "As for where you are? To put it in a way you'd understand...this is the place where the songs of every human life coalesce. The voices of the formless dead, meanwhile, form a chorus; paired with the living, they create a grand ensemble. Together, they create the eternal harmony that is the Endless Now; ensuring that harmony does not fall into discord...is the reason I exist."

Crys pondered those words. He did not immediately respond, for his understanding was still lacking. Instead, he wondered, and pondered in silence. As he did so, the canvas continued to show more images: of Crys, playing his flute, through untold years and in countless places...some of which he could not recall.

"The cycle of rebirth," elaborated Z. "An unending flow of desires, seeking to perpetuate the moment. Yet in the face of this...the song of the off-seer emerged, as if by evolution. A natural means of coping with the hardships of the world, you might say. Seeking to impart meaning to the end of life...by trying to feel for those who have departed. Thus do the motes rise, in glorious color, accompanied by your melody...do you not agree?"

"...you seem to know a great deal about this world," observed Crys. "So much so, that you seem akin to one with a great deal of control over it. Am I wrong?"

"Those you know as Consuls belong to Moebius...and I am their leader. Perpetuating the world as it is...preventing the oblivion that humanity dreads...ensuring that mankind's fears do not come to pass...has been our duty for time immemorial."

Crys frowned. "The world is quite a tragic place, then...gripped by a war without end."

"The world came to be as it is, because of mankind's desires; that it runs on the consumption of life is a consequence of such. You might find it a deplorable state of affairs," Z mused, sounding rather detached about the whole scenario. "However, if it is for the sake of satisfying mankind's wish...then could it be anything but beautiful, I ask of you?"

"...hmm," murmured Crys. The ramifications of Z's words (if they were even true) had very disturbing implications about the nature of the world. "My initial reaction...is that it sounds rather contrived." For the first time, Z deigned to look in his direction. "In my time as an off-seer...I've experienced the feelings of so many people. To generalize all of that into a generic desire for war...for death...carnage, for carnage's sake...it rings hollow. It lacks rhythm."

Z did not immediately respond. However, he did not berate, nor did he chide. "For one in your position, such a sentiment is understandable. It is but one of the reasons why you are here: to impart greater understanding of an off-seer's melody." As he spoke, the image of a masculine Consul with a bulky physique showed on the screen; amidst the wreckage of an Agnian Colony, he pulled out the seemingly deceased body of a young girl with brown hair. "An experiment, by Moebius Y. As the one who introduced the current Homecoming ritual, you could say that your expertise would be highly valuable."

...what? Crys boggled at those words. "Introduced...?" he echoed.

"Indeed," remarked Z; now the canvas showed an image of Crys himself, playing his flute before a kneeling soldier. Standing beside him were two other Consuls: one with a tall helm in crimson, the other being an Agnian with long silvery hair and armor of a similar color. "Nearly a thousand years ago, your rendition of Homecoming occurred for the very first time. In response to your music, the soldier faced his end with an incomparable peace. Through these feelings you claim to have for the fallen...a feeble connection is born. Is that connection not in itself a manifestation of humanity's desires?" queried Z. "Whether it be red motes, born from shed blood, and offered to the Flame Clock...blue motes from the deceased, offered for the consolation of the living...or golden motes from those who make it to the end of their tenth term, offered to the Queens, nay, to the world itself...each one is an embodiment of life. Each one is witnessed by the formless dead, and is a cause for celebration. So even if you do believe this state of affairs 'rings hollow'...it nonetheless persists by their own will."

Crys leaned back in his chair, feeling somewhat confused and bewildered. That connection...is what I've been seeking as an off-seer. He could empathize with that idea, even if Z's characterization also seemed repugnant. It didn't take long for him to realize why. "You speak of the 'voices of the formless dead', yes? How do they sound to you?"

"...an endless babble," admitted Z. "Akin to a rushing river. The pitch; the timbre; the dissonance; the chords; the tempo; though they constantly change, they all belong to the same flow. If you know the direction of the flow...then you can understand them."

Crys wondered if that was true; Z spoke as one who had been at this for a very long time. To even refer to a collection of human voices as a 'babble' painted a very unflattering picture. "Hmm." He needed to think more. "You said...'but one of the reasons'. For what other reason am I here?"

"...there is a certain motif to this world; one whose existence is rather intriguing. The one called Noah." As he spoke, the canvas rapidly played images of Noah: some in his garb as a Kevesi soldier; others in drab and unusual garments; others with the golden armor of Keves's Lord High Consul (which was a revelation in and of itself...!). "Should their presence become a nuisance, you would doubtless be an amusing counter. The student, versus the teacher...does the drama not strike you as invigorating?"

Crys didn't know what to make of such a base motivation, especially from one who had carried himself with such a dispassionate and apathetic air. "I'm not quite sure it does...nor can I see the necessity of this 'drama'...are you trying to convince yourself?"

Z seemed disappointed by his response. "Why would I need to convince myself?" he remarked, not quite answering the question. "I suppose it matters not...because regardless of your belief, the confines of this world are what they are."

Crys tried putting the pieces together, using only what had been given to him. "Lives. Rebirth. Motifs. It would seem...that I have lived many times before...and will live many times hereafter. Yet I will retain no memory of such...I assume that would change, if I were to become a Moebius?"

"Indeed."

"And what would the cost be?" he asked. "This world...there is no such thing as 'give' without 'take'. I do not believe that you grant such power to just anyone."

"Correct. Yet the method by which you would ensure the existence of this world...is yours to choose," gravely remarked Z. "Whether it be crude, or primitive, or unrefined...it matters not."

Crys wasn't sure he believed that. If the upkeep of the world was truly so important...must it be in such a wretched way? "...for one of your power, do you not have the luxury of choosing a better way?"

"I can only choose what the world allows," Z replied. "Existence itself is tolerated; to seek anything beyond its flow would be akin to breaking the confines of the world itself. Why would anyone do something so delusional, I ask you?"

...delusional, hm? "Hmm...I wonder." Crys felt a strange draw to the proposition. To be thrown back into the cycle, living out an uncertain existence, dancing to a melody I can't divine...or to witness the fullness of the song that purports to keep Aionios going? In the end, something simpler influenced his decision. If I am reborn, I will forget...but if I choose to become Moebius, I will remember. "...very well. I will become Moebius...so that I may better understand the music that drives you and the world."

As he made his choice, Z's eyes glowed with twin infinities-

xxxx

In that precise moment, the fullness of Crys's many lives played out in his mind's eye.

All of his past memories came rushing back...and some were more noteworthy than others.

xx

It was a time not too long after the capture of Queen Melia, and the founding of the eternal war...Crys found himself tending to the wounds of a certain scientist: one who purported to not belong to either Keves or Agnus.

"It is a strange world, Aionios," the man said. His face was surprisingly wrinkled. "You would have been astounded by the former worlds...what they were supposed to be..."

Crys frowned, wondering what this man was saying. "What do you mean?"

The beleaguered man looked at his wounded torso, only to scowl. "I doubt I'll make it; you're clearly not a medic."

"Just a scout, I'm afraid," he remarked, looking warily at the dense foliage of the Maktha Wildwood.

"...then maybe my words can be the catalyst for something more." Scowling, the man gripped for the lapels of Crys's uniform. "Listen. This world of yours...it's not what you think it is."

Crys listened with bewilderment as the man spoke of bizarre and frankly unbelievable things: of Aionios being formed from two worlds; of 'Origin', the great machine that had been their ark; the failure of the machine to do as it was supposed to, and the rampant artificial intelligence at the heart of it all; finally, there was the wretched war they had engineered, led by two simulacrums pretending to be the rightful Queens. "I...honestly don't know what to make of all that," admitted Crys, somewhat dumbfounded by it all.

"Doesn't matter. Just tell it to your superiors," muttered the scientist, his voice wavering from weakness. "Spreading the knowledge...will ensure that Moebius won't get its way...in that, my death will have meaning-!"

A new voice suddenly interrupted them. "Oh ho! There's the scallywag I'm s'posed to be hunting!" Crys and the scientist both looked up with alarm; a burly man in crimson armor with a billowing cape stared at them from upon a thick tree branch. "Hmm...a Kevesi too, eh? Wasn't told about ye...guess that makes it a two-fer-one deal!" With a delightfully manic roar, the man's body surged with purple ether as he soared down at them, chest first.

Crys and the scientist had the ignominious honor of dying from Moebius T's body slam-

xx

It was nearly a thousand years ago. After Consul V departed, Crys — Commander of Colony 19 — went to confront the Prime Consul of Keves. "Lady M-"

"I apologize for V's rudeness," she quietly remarked. "But I must be off."

"That stuff you two spoke of...of lives being lost from circulation...and this 'Z'; is he a new Consul?"

M quietly looked at him with an expression fit for a funeral dirge. "...that Homecoming ritual of yours was quite beautiful," she mused, changing the subject. "I think it would be a much better fit, for those who have made it to the end of their tenth term...it is certainly more merciful, in a way..."

As the woman in silver trailed off, she quietly warped away. Crys held out his hand futilely, somehow sensing that his questions would not be answered-

xx

It was nearly five hundred years ago, after another Homecoming.

It was one of the few times that N, High Consul of Keves, had been present. The Commander of Fort O'Virbus had made it through an entire decade, having fended off numerous assaults by Colony Upsilon during his short life. As such, his Homecoming had been a thing of pomp and ceremony, attended to by a number of other Commanders, numerous Consuls, and the Kevesi Queen herself.

Strangely, the Golden Consul seemed dissatisfied by it all. After the ritual, Crys confronted him. "Was my playing not to your satisfaction, Lord High Consul?"

Icy blue eyes stared at him from behind his facemask. "Such pageantry for the sake of those who make it to the end of ten years...it seems a wretched commentary on the world, doesn't it?"

"Pardon?"

"Fighting to live...and living to fight," mused N with a bitter tone. "To celebrate death with such splendor seems rather contrary to the whole enterprise...and yet therein lies the truth underlying the moment: no matter how much grandeur its given, the Homecoming ritual still ends in death. It almost makes you wonder if the departed Commander truly felt satisfied with his lot."

Crys quietly looked down at his flute, bewildered by N's observations. "...I didn't feel anything like that, when I played."

"As though the 'now' can be encompassed by something as simple as a flute," murmured N, shaking his head at the idea. "I suppose playing away is all you can do. You'll face the end yourself, one day...and in that instant, you'll find yourself wishing for just one...more... moment."

As N walked away, Crys found himself bewildered, even lost; what had spawned Consul N's strange enmity...?

xx

All of these and more: countless memories, of untold lives...every single one, contributing to the symphony that was Crys.

Through it all, one sound was paramount...


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtufmwvupBY

...the melody of a flute.

xxxx

-and when the glow in Z's eyes faded, Crys understood implicitly that his very being had changed. "And so you have chosen," remarked the leader of Moebius.

"...indeed," said Crys, smiling wanly. So many disconnected pieces of information, so much discordant data...finally, it all harmonized together. "Strong...yet fragile," he mused.

Z arched an eyebrow.

"...simply coming to an understanding," assuaged Crys. "Now...you said that Moebius Y wanted greater insight into the off-seeing melody? I think I'll be able to do so...now that I know the truth of Origin, and the nature of this world."

If Z was surprised by his claimed knowledge of the world's origins (literally or otherwise), he did not react. "Then do as you will."

xxxx

Such was the demeanor of Consul C: even if he empathized with Moebius to some degree, protecting his song — and the connections it enabled him to make — was paramount above all else. This was especially true, in light of the dichotomy between Noah and N: two sides of the same coin, it would seem. How could Noah's beautiful song ever lack the harmony that would produce someone like N?

He swore to endure until that day.

And lo, it was so: as N — sitting despondent beneath the spotlight — lingered on the stage, Z spoke as one who was both vexed yet tired. "The Sword of the End...of all the vestiges of Origin, strewn through the world...who knew this fragment yet remained?"

Crys knew that Z had foreseen such a potential outcome; it was why he had been given the chance to become Moebius. Yet, in spite of that foresight, perpetuating the 'now' had removed all thought of proactively preparing for the future. Possibilities beyond that paradigm were discarded thusly, to Moebius's detriment. "It is no longer one with the flow," he observed, sounding neither pleased nor upset by that fact. "We have no means of controlling it."

"Will you go, then?" asked Z.

"No...there's no need, is there?" Deactivating his helmet, Crys spoke into the open air with a smile. "He will come to me. I know it. To share with me his feelings..."

(He would gladly serve as the final obstacle for Noah; one last test, for his former student; one final confrontation, to see if Noah's conviction to change the world was rooted in something as beautiful as his own tune.)

xxxx

Author's Note: I honestly wish Crys had been more thoroughly integrated into the main plot, because his whole deal seems very interesting. Especially since, unlike a lot of other Moebius, he seemed to know more about Origin and the nature of the world than many of the other Consuls.

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Note: Managed to sneak in one last snippet before I go on holiday for the rest of 2022!

xxxx

/Time: Several Years before the Main Plot, Right after the Destruction of Colony 14/

/Gardin Defense Base, Syra Hovering Reefs, Keves Castle Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnQl4DvujYk

The survivors of Colony 14 were waiting for their inevitable reassignments; it was the nature of the world they lived in, alas. Little time to grieve, little time to mourn: the war demanded their efforts. Such demands could not be ignored because of personal tragedy.

Lanz really wanted to ignore it, though; leaning against the southern wall of the Defense Base's grounds, he just wanted to get away from it all.

"There you are, Lanz," said a familiar boy.

The young second-termer grimaced, looking over his shoulder at Noah and Eunie. "What do you lot want?" he asked, glaring at them.

Eunie's impulsive snort was cut off before it could truly begin, rendering its sound into a horribly snuffled sneeze. "Erm, well...agh, spark this," she griped, irritably fiddling with her head wings. "Lanz, you've kinda been freakin' everyone out."

"Oh yeah? Why would anyone be frightened of little ol' me," he grumbled. When Eunie pointed at his right hand, he looked down at the tiny little dagger in his fingers. "So? S'just a knife. Not good for much else than whittling."

"Yeah, well you've been walking around the whole snuffin' Defense Base with it in your hand. And all with that look in your eyes." Eunie huffed, leaning against the wall beside him. "Like you'd tear the ponio's arse end out of anyone who looks at ya funny."

"...'m just a second-termer," Lanz muttered. "Not like I do much on my own."

"...that doesn't look standard issue," remarked Noah, trying to change the subject. "Is that knife...special?"

"...I asked Riku for it. Didn't ask any questions or anythin'. Maybe he knew? Spark if I know." Grimacing, Lanz held the small knife up. "I...I was gonna say sorry. I really was."

Both Noah and Eunie winced at those words; little wonder, as he brought up that big Joran-shaped hole that now existed in their team. "I see," murmured Noah after several seconds of awkward silence. "It...was going to be a gift?"

"I mean...he ditched training often enough to whittle away at those little dolls of his. I bet his knife was getting dull..." A simple and practical gift had also seemed so much easier than actually saying 'sorry.' And now...he'd never get the chance. "...shows what I get for waiting."

"Lanz," said Eunie, wings slightly drooping from dismay. "...we're all hurtin', man...but if you freak people out, they might split us up. Maybe put you in a unit full of maniacs or somethin'. I don't..." Eunie gingerly brushed her fingers against the outside of his right hand. "...I don't wanna lose you too."

Lanz briefly considered a life without Noah and Eunie; maybe he'd have a chance to be all muddled in his own head in peace. (But his annoyance at their nosiness could never compare to how much he'd miss them.)

In the quiet silence, Noah raised his voice. "Lanz...I'm not telling you to let it go. Not...not now, at least. But..."

"Yeah, I get it," grumbled Lanz, interrupting Noah before he could finish his words. "I get it...gotta move on." (What a wretched lie.) Feeling spiteful (towards Agnus; towards everyone; towards his own snuffing weakness...!), Lanz impulsively stepped away from the wall, rearing his arm; with a frustrated cry, he heaved the tiny little knife into the air, watching angrily as it soared over the rim. It would continue to fall into the great void underneath the Hovering Reefs, possibly forever. "There. It's done. No more thinking about it."

Eunie shook her head at his impetuous action. "You muppet...you didn't have to do that..."

"I'll get strong enough so it won't matter, right?" hissed Lanz, clenching both of his fists so hard that it felt like his skin was going to yield to his fingernails. "I'll move on. So don't worry about me."

(Everyone knew that wasn't true.)

(Right now, you'll give anything for them to drop it.)

"...let's get to the canteen and get some breakfast," said Noah, finally breaking the awkward silence. "We need to be ready in case our reassignment comes through today..."

Thus did the trio go about their day; thoughts of the knife — a gift, sadly ungiven — eventually gave way to lingering memories of Joran, which would scab over their hearts in the days and weeks and months to come...

xxxx

It would be an unusual sight, many years later. By the time the Kevesi trio became Ouroboros, all thought of that little gift had been lost to time....

...however...in the aftermath of the battle at Colony Lambda, when Consul J revealed his true identity...

...Lanz couldn't deny feeling a strange twinge of agony, seeing Joran stab his mud-puppets in the back: his tool of choice, an old whittling knife that had once carved little dolls from wood.

(Perhaps it was a small mercy, that Lanz's gift had been ungiven; imagine the anguish, seeing his apology turned into a tool of anguish and suffering...)

xxxx

Author's Note: ...okay, so gifts are only tangentially related to Christmas.

...welp, time to head out. See y'all in 2023!

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

As far as we know, acceptance into Moebius was done on a voluntary basis.

Even if the choice had been influenced in some form or fashion — like with how N's decision had been tied to the life of M, for example — it had always been the final say of the individual. A strange code of honor, perhaps? Or maybe a reflection of Z's views on the inevitability of everything: that all would return to Origin, and so their choices were practically set in stone.

Who knew?

All we know...is there appeared to be two counter-examples, to this trend.

M: seemingly turned into a Moebius thanks to N's decision alone. (Or was it? After all, M had been further along the path than N...a sign that a choice had been made by Mio, before Noah's own...?)

S: seemingly turned into a Moebius without any input of her own. (For her surprise at being called a Moebius had been genuine, upon awakening in that pool.)

It is the latter, that we glance at now.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, during Nia's Travels with Ouroboros, before the first Invasion of Origin/

/The Amphitheater, Origin's Core/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1cEsUfADY8

The canvas displayed images from the life of one Shania Reid: they were remarkably few, relative to others. After all, it was only one life's worth of memories to view.

"A curious decision, on your part," remarked Moebius Y.

Moebius X rolled her eyes. And of course HE'S the one who speaks up. "It's all a dumb charade anyhow. We only ever selected those who were willing to become Moebius at all, for whatever reason. Trying to 'talk them into it' has always been a waste of time." Glancing towards the larger of Z's avatars, she added, "I mean, come on: did you really think someone like Triton was going to ignore becoming T? Or that Joran would refuse to gain the power of J? Or that Dirk would be unwilling to get his little jollies off as D?"

"Does it truly seem like such a waste?" responded Y. "Such value there is, in letting those folk convince themselves. It maketh them all the more willing, to fight for Z's vision."

X huffed. "Those peons are our playthings anyhow." All so wrapped up in their little drama and their 'woe is me' struggles, not knowing it was the excesses of humanity itself that spurned the masses onward in the great existential drama.

"It is Z's way," countered Y. "Those exchanges of words enable him to more finely tune the great machine that keeps Aionios going. What reason, to not do the same with the City maiden?"

"It's not like it's going to change anything. She's only got the one life to review in her own little head," groused X, crossing her arms with a huff. "Given her personality, and how so eagerly she threw her lot in with us...she'd probably convince herself. I'd bet a whole Colony on it, in fact!"

"And yet it was for the sake of becoming part of the cycle of rebirth that she joined us at all," observed Y, cupping a hand under his chin. "If she were to become Moebius, it would defeat the point, would it not?"

"Meh, she's just a measly little soldier on her own: no true power beyond her own pitiful flame. But if she were to become Moebius..." X paused, watching with a strangely savage gleefulness as Shania's mother berated her on the screen; shortly thereafter, it cut to an image of the girl destroying the work of her own hands. "...she'd turn all that rage against the City. Wouldn't that be so exciting?" (In the back of her mind, the tumult of voices within Origin murmured in agreement; for she and Y were avatars of Z, and thus shared in those strange qualities that were characteristically his.)

At this, Y could not disagree. "Such confidence."

"Come on, we've all seen enough soldiers to know how they are..." X turned away, gazing towards their progenitor, sitting a few rows ahead. "Isn't that right, Z?"

Z, staring at the screen, did not answer at first. After a few moments, he remarked, "To go against the grain...to change the way in which things are done...is akin to resisting the flow," he calmly remarked. "Although such conversations may seem pointless, they are nonetheless edifying; for they have always reinforced the reason for our existence. Why deprive us, I ask?"

As Y nodded in agreement, X simply snorted. "Let me put it this way...what better way of proving our point, then to see that we're right without any effort at all? She'll act exactly as I have foreseen."

"And the reason you wish to make her a Moebius?" Z asked, as a final question.

"Isn't it obvious?" X leaned forward, her eyes crinkling with wicked delight. "It's because it amuses me."

At this, neither Y nor Z could respond. (Yet she knew they smiled all the same.) Finally, with his ever familiar detachment, Z replied, "Then do as you will." (With those words, Shania Reid was pulled from the grip of death itself: it was only because she had been connected to the Flame Clock system prior to death that her soul was now part of the flow at all.)

X's eyes gleamed in the dark as she warped away.

xxxx

X could justifiably claim to have knowledge of how humans acted...to an extent, that is.

Faced with the pressures of the world they had forged, people acted in certain ways: almost all of them had been categorized.

In the stillness of the Endless Now, there had been many soldiers — Kevesi and Agnian — who had desired control over their own fates, and their own lives; that it had defaulted to simply filling up their Flame Clock with the lives of the slain was simply a function of commonality. Yet the behaviors were there, regardless.

Shania Reid was just like them: someone who believed they lacked control over their own life...and wanted more, no matter what it cost.

She had believed that becoming bound to the Flame Clock system — being plunged into the cycle of rebirth, to have more than one chance at life, to spite the girl she envied (for Ghondor would one day die, and inevitably be forgotten...but Shania would go on forever, in life after life!) — would give her that control.

Well...so would becoming Moebius. It would just be a different kind of control.

xxxx

And so it was, when Shania awoke: transformed. "Congrats, lamb," cheered X from the edge of the pool. "As of today, you're officially a fully-fledged Moebius comrade." Words of camaraderie, words of belonging: akin to water dropping upon parched soil.

"I became...Moebius?" A voice unsure, and confused...yet it was not a voice of rejection.

X smiled. "You can play to your heart's content! The fun starts here. Eh? You get a fresh start. Forget about your old self." Words of empowerment, words of freedom: akin to the enlightenment of one long imprisoned.

Standing within the shallow water, Shania murmured, "So I get to do...whatever I want?" She spoke as one convincing themselves.

And point goes to me, thought X with a snide joy, glad to have been proven right. Like there had been any doubt!

xxxx

As for the words which followed? Wherein X played upon Shania's sense of inferiority with regards to Ghondor, decrying the youngest Vandham as a faker? Wherein she lit the fuse to Shania's rage against the City she claimed to hate so much?

Well...that was just for fun.

xxxx

Author's Note: Updates are going to slow down now, seeing as how I'm finally getting back to my Evangelion/Persona crossover.

I wonder when Nintendo will announce the final release date for DLC Wave 3...?

 

[kip]

um apparently dlc wave 3 is march to april of 2023.

 

[V01DRei]

I have to wonder, are you going to post anything about the Kanji in Lucky Seven's Arte Pallette?

Relevant Reddit Post

Spoiler

Attacker:



- Gravity Blow : "flash" (閃)



- Dimension Ripper: "sever" (絶)



- Tachyon Slash : "destroy" (破) (Same as Monado Purge)



- Power Raiser : "heart" (心)



- Night Breaker : "curse/spell" (呪)



- Harmonic Wave : "kill" (殺)



- Final Lucky Seven : "slash" (斬) (Same as Monado Buster)



When Noah changes class, the kanji for his arts change to represent the different effects his arts have.



Healer:



- Tachyon Slash : "endure" (忍)



- Power Raiser : "live" (活)



- Night Breaker : "vow/precept/commandment?" (戒)



- Harmonic Wave : "benevolence" (仁)



Tank:



- Tachyon Slash : "crazy" (狂)



- Power Raiser : "demon" (鬼)



- Night Breaker : "world/community/boundary?" (界)



- Harmonic Wave : "war" (乱)

Note, this isn't even touching how they change when performing Fusion Artes
Images found here

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

I wonder when Nintendo will announce the final release date for DLC Wave 3...?

Click to shrink...

APPARENTLY ONE WEEK FROM APRIL 25TH, WHAT.

Here's some instant inspiration.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 5, After Ouroboros First Arrived at the City/

/Memorial Hall, The City/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkGTR_8wLmw

It was awe-inspiring, looking at the predecessors which had given rise to the City's current incarnation. At least, that's what Noah felt, looking at the six statues of the Founders...or rather, four Founders and the teachers of two.

After Monica Vandham finished her brief survey of the Founders, the six of them quietly hovered around the statues, trying to divine interesting tidbits about them.

xx

"Man, check out the guns on that guy," murmured Lanz, looking the statue of Cassini's Mentor.

"Y'know, with the eyepatch, you could maybe pull off the one-eyed look," joked Eunie, her head wings fluttering with amusement.

Lanz shot Eunie a stink-eye. "You're wearin' an eyepatch too, you know."

"Yeah, but I still gotta shoot with my gun. This eyepatch is gonna throw my depth perception off somethin' awful."

"And I'd have the same problem when using a Class with a gun, but you don't hear me whingeing about it."

Eunie scoffed. "Fine then; next battle we're in, we'll see who can get the best shots in with these snuffing eyepatches. Loser has to do dishes during the next Camp rotation!"

"You're on!"

(Bartering over chore duty was a safe thing, in light of all the revelations they'd recently experienced. It helped to ground them.)

xx

"It can't be easy, losing an arm," murmured Taion, looking intently upon the statue of Reid's Mentor.

Noah nodded grimly, wondering what the man's red sword had looked like (and whether it had any similarities to his own Blade). "I don't even know if prosthetics are even a thing, back at the Colonies..." Even Colony 30's ragtag bunch of technicians all had their limbs attached.

"Why would they be? Soldiers who lose a limb tend to die almost immediately on the battlefield," darkly observed the tactician, solemnly adjusting his eyeglasses. "Easy motes, to feed the Flame Clock."

"Yeah..." What would it be like, to lose an arm? To have it replaced by an artificial limb made of metal? To carry on fighting, as though nothing had happened? I wonder...

xx

"This statue looks pretty!" exclaimed Manana, tiptoeing about the statue of Rhodes's Founder. "Girly fashion, yet ready for action! I bet this was a woman after Manana's own heart!"

Sena giggled at the Nopon's gleeful characterization. "She does look pretty," agreed Sena, looking at the plaque. "It's...a shame though..."

Mio, staring intently at Rhodes's image, blinked. "What's a shame?"

"Well..." Looking around at the other statues, she remarked, "Vandham, Doyle, Reid, Cassini, Ortiz, Rhodes...they only have...'family names.' That's what Monica said, right?"

"I think so. Is that a problem?"

Sena frowned, looking down at her feet. "Well, I can't really imagine being anyone other than Sena..." (Even if she wasn't sure who 'Sena' was at times...but those dark thoughts had been pushed aside by all the crazy things they had learned in the City.) "So to share a name with a bunch of other people...it sounds weird. So they must have had names of their own, right?"

"That sounds logical," remarked Mio. "If families were large enough, you'd have to have some way of telling people apart."

"Then why did only the family name survive?" asked Sena. "It's like their own name was...unimportant, or something..."

Manana, with a sparkly gaze, hopped up and down. "Then let's give them a name of our own! Manana think...she should be called Ponytail!"

Mio smiled at her exuberance, while Sena giggled. "I don't know about being name after her own hairstyle..." Looking back up the statue of the feminine Founder, Sena continued, "But...her personality seems to be captured by this statue...I can envision her exuding fire, and shining at the same time...like Sparkler, or Shimmer, or Simmer, or maybe even Glimmer...or perhaps-"

"Glimmer?"

Sena paused, looking up at Mio. "Mimi?"

"That word, Glimmer," she murmured, looking up at the statue with an incredibly odd expression. "...that's a fitting name," she said, with a detached expression. "I like it."

"Then we'll make sure to always call her Glimmer!" cheered Manana.

"Yeah," agreed Sena. "I guess she would be 'Glimmer Rhodes', then?" (Somehow, 'Glimmer' just by itself felt oddly appropriate...)

xx

"At least they're enjoying their history lesson," remarked Monica Vandham, watching Ouroboros look at each statue with naked interest.

Shania, looking briefly in the direction of Reid's statue, said nothing before looking away.

Sighing at Shania's distance, Monica instead turned to the little Nopon with the spiky afro. "Not going to join them?"

"Riku simply admiring the craftsponship from afar," he said with that deep voice, so unfitting for a little furball. "A lot of care went into their creation, Riku can tell. Almost like they were standing before us."

Monica chuckled. "Well, we don't have much in the way of images or photos from back then, so this is all we've got; not like anyone else would be able to say for sure, one way or another."

"A shame," cryptically said Riku, who remained silent for the remainder of their time in the Memorial Hall.

xxxx

Six Founders. Six Ouroboros.

One could only imagine how much Noah and his comrades wondered...at whether or not they would be able to live up to the Founders' sterling example, immortalized in the form of statues...

xxxx

Author's Note: Leave it to Nintendo shadow-dropping a trailer to give me a boost. (I haven't forgotten about finishing the Long Month, but I'm kind of in a groove with my Evangelion/Persona crossover; you know how it is.)

But man, my backstories for Z and House Vandham are now so non-canon it hurts. XD
/still managed to hit some broad strokes for Vandham though
//BUT AYO WHY WAS Z FACING ALVIS ALONGSIDE SHULK AND REX WHAAAAAAAT

 

[JimmyWolk]

//BUT AYO WHY WAS Z FACING ALVIS ALONGSIDE SHULK AND REX WHAAAAAAAT

Click to shrink...

If I had to guess:

Spoiler

Shulk and Rex about to square off with Z, Alvis(?) drops to everyone's surprise and takes Z's side (either for own reasons or because of Z's talk-no-jutsu), powering Z up and/or nerfing Shulk & Rex. Would explain why these super powerful chars weren't able to take down Z and ended up losing arm/eye.

 

[BigFan10]

Was reading the updated tv tropes Page and here's something interesting

Spoiler

A is the Seventh Founder, and not only that, She's Mobieus

 

[JimmyWolk]

Was reading the updated tv tropes Page and here's something interesting

Spoiler

A is the Seventh Founder, and not only that, She's Mobieus

Click to shrink...

Spoiler

Her being Moebius is confirmed (obvious name aside )*, but I don't think her being the seventh founder is? Certainly likely though unless it's Riku after all... (*ed: actually not even that is, I thought she was under Moebius in the char relation chart, but she's separate...)

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Note: I can feel the brainrot returning.

And all it took was a single trailer

nooooooooooo

xxxx

An excited shout. "Mio!"

A confused blink, followed by recognition. "Oh, hi Glimmer."

Gasping for breath. "Do you know where Dad and Mom have gone?"

The rolling of eyes. "Take a wild guess."

A childish pout. "Aw, dealing with that stupid Origin thing again? That's all they're focusing on nowadays!"

A tiny shrug. "I mean, if you heard the way Mum talks about it, it's supposed to be the key to saving us all from the Intersection."

A swift hush. "Ssh! We're not supposed to talk about it out loud!"

Another sigh. "At least our brother is too busy training with Mother nowadays to run his mouth. Everyone on the continent would know before the day is out otherwise."

An uncertain frown. "Mio...do you really think it's as bad as they say? Dad's awful at keeping his feelings a secret...he puts on a brave face, but I don't like seeing him worry..."

"Glimmer...." The biting of a lip, as anxiety briefly had its say...

xxxx

/Time: An Indeterminate Period Prior to the Emergence of Moebius N and M/

/Melnath's Shoulder, Aetia Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Td2wI8PbFW0

An unusual storm had driven gusts of cold wind down from Captocorn Peak, combining with the area's moist air to form an unseasonable blizzard. As far as Colony Sigma was concerned, it was a wretched time.

Fortunately, they all had ways of making do.

"Has anyone ever told you that your Blade is snuffing useful?" crudely remarked Mio, holding her hands out towards the fire.

Glimmer smirked, even as her fingers strummed the blazing strings of her cello-staff. "On occasion." Looking up at the roaring snow outside their tiny alcove, the brunette remarked, "You're usually not bothered by the cold."

"It's also usually not this windy, even on Captocorn," grumbled Mio. "Besides, we might as well share our reports in comfort."

"Too right." Glimmer quietly tapped at her Iris, as the two scouts began comparing and contrasting the routes they had taken, as well as the enemy movements they had reconnoitered. After submitting their reports back Sigma via their Irises, Glimmer sat bak with a pleased little smile. "So...think we might be able to catch those mudders from Colony 7 off guard?"

"...probably."

Glimmer frowned, catching onto her distant tone. "...is everything okay? You've been sparkin' weird, lately."

Mio blinked. "I...I 'ave?"

"I know you're a go-getter, but maybe you're exhausting your Flame Clock too much? You've been taking longer and more distant routes, lately..."

At this, the girl's upper ears twitched. There was an unfamiliar reticence to her voice, and in her eyes. "Have I been worrying you? That...wasn't my intention."

Glimmer huffed, chalking her comrade's odd behavior up to running herself ragged. "Well, you're lucky your record's spotless, or else Commander Hackt would have gotten on your case by now for pushing past your limits."

Mio shivered. "No thank you. I've gotten my face bashed by his shield one too many times during training as is."

A chuckle slipped past Glimmer's lips; she plucked at her Blade's strings, loosing small bursts of fire to the sound of music. "Well, knowing our luck, I'd probably end up in remedial training with you...it's been that way for a long time, now."

"...it'll be our seventh term soon, won't it?" Mio seemed somewhat sad about that.

"Hey, we've made it this far! If we keep doing what's worked for us, we'll make it to Homecoming! Together!" (There was a certain affinity that they had always felt for each other. If either Glimmer or Mio had been asked about such a thing, they wouldn't have been able to articulate an answer...)

"...right. Together." Mio looked back at the blizzard. "We should get some rest; we'll need to get in position before the offensive tomorrow..."

And so they did.

Yet, hours later, when the blizzard had slowed, and Glimmer finally awoke...Mio was nowhere to be found. Trying to raise her by Iris also failed. Well, sparks. Where'd you go, Mio? Grimacing, she double-checked the routes from their prior scouting reports. "If I were a betting girl...she's probably gone...here." She focused on a slim gap between routes, close to where they had seen Colony 7's patrols. Stupid overachiever...I can't watch your back if you run too far ahead of me! Grabbing her cello-staff, Glimmer darted out of the alcove, her ponytail flapping through the snow showers. With an ease born from years' worth of conflict, she darted quietly through the winding pathways of Melnath's Shoulder, trying to find certain signs of Mio's passage. Fortunately, the snowfall had slowed to a point where footprints had not been completely covered. There...you can't hide from me, Mio.

Before long, the crevice she shimmied through opened up into a wider patch of red grass, surrounded by tall cliffs of gray stone. Within it was Mio...and a Kevesi soldier. Wha...?

They were in the middle of a conversation. "-this 'City' those outsiders kept talking about sounds like a true safe haven: a place without fighting." The Kevesi who was speaking had dark hair, tied into a small ponytail; his blue eyes burned with something akin to tired conviction. "Before Colony 7 and Colony Sigma enter into conflict with each other...now's our best chance to slip away."

'City'? Outsiders? What are they talking about?

Mio's hesitance was palpable. "You are sure?"

Mio...why aren't you killing him...?

"All we have to look forward to...is killing to survive. If we only have ten terms to live...then we should take whatever chance we have to live them out in peace." The young man spoke with passion; he couldn't have been older than six terms, at most.

Yet...why did Mio seem to be swayed? Mio...what are you doing? (The suspicions slowly trickled through; this was not their first meeting; they had obviously met before, many times; Mio had kept such meetings a secret...!)

"...all right." Mio seemed to have come to a decision. "Then...let's hurry-"

"TRAITOR!" Glimmer moved with impulse, and spoke without thinking. Her Blade roared with passionate anger, flinging fire into the field.

The black-haired Kevesi batted at fireballs with a simple sword; Mio cut through them with her Dual Moonblades.

"So you've made your choice," growled Glimmer, her whole frame vibrating to the point fire leaked from her skin. (Rage against the Kevesi, for taking away her comrade; bitterness at Mio, for betraying Agnus...for betraying her...!) "So much for standing together, huh?!"

Mio, ears flattening with anguish, dared to speak. "Glimmer...it doesn't have to be this way...!"

"You should have thought about that before standing with the enemy!"

Betrayal, real or perceived: a tale as old as time. With words thrown away as a weapon of choice, there was only the instinct to fight, born from lives forged in the crucible of combat.

In a world where the Kevesi and Agnians could and would be reborn, as proverbial blank slates...the outcome of an individual battle seemed almost meaningless. Whether Glimmer triumphed, to live the remainder of her terms in the grips of despair; whether Noah and Mio managed to strike her down, regretful of the choices that had led them to such sorrow; or whether Noah was the sole survivor, staring despondently at the fallen bodies of two who could've been sisters in another life(?)...such outcomes seemed irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things.

There was only the height of their emotions, that lent the drama any impact at all: a succulent feast.

Without that, it would be just another skirmish: one of many, as Colony 7 and Colony Sigma engaged in battle upon Melnath's Shoulder, Kevesi and Agnian alike falling upon each other's Blades...

(They would emerge again, eventually...in much different circumstances...)

xxxx

...before, with a shake of the head, Mio forced a smile back to her face. "Don't worry Glimmer. Our parents always taught us the importance of being brave, right?"

Honest confusion. "Yeah...?"

Naïve bravado. "Then...no matter what happens when the Intersection happens, we'll make sure to face it together. No matter what."

Nervousness, and fear; both fell away, replaced by fledgling hope. "Yeah...we'll all make it! Together!"

Assuredness, born from the certainty that nothing would shake her resolve. "Right. Together."

Thus did two sisters play away, waiting and watching for the day when their family faced the Intersection...

(Those poor, unfortunate souls.)

xxxx

Author's Note: I don't even have a true glimpse of what Glimmer's personality would be like, and I don't care.

All I know is that a possible battle between sisters is definitely something I could see happening at Aionios at one point.

/the brainrot is returning
//heeeeeelp

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Note: This is crack. But it's crack that could be canonical.

(Also because Riku won't leave my head. Him just hanging out in the background with Shulk and Nikol is just too funny. "Common variety Nopon" indeed.)

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 3, prior to entering the Urayan Mountains/

/Seilas Terrace Camp, Rae-Bel Tableland, Fornis Region/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iI2IAeXqWLc

"Riku, mate...what are you doing?"

The green Nopon turned around, startled. "Ah. Lanz up earlier than usual! Sena too!"

The tall Kevesi tilted his head, as did Sena; Noah, Mio, Taion, Eunie, and Manana were still sleeping, so it was only the three of them. "What, you keep track of that?" he wondered.

Riku said nothing.

"...so, what Lanz said," piped up Sena, tilting her head the other direction. "What are you doing?"

Riku simply had his ear-wing-arm-hands(?) extended outward, perpendicular to his body and parallel to the ground. His stubby arms, by comparison, were flush against his side. "Nothing that concerns friends."

"You're acting awful weird about it. It doesn't seem like nothing," grumbled Lanz, looking rather suspicious.

After a few seconds of silence, Riku finally sighed. "If Lanz and Sena must know, it is simple yet secret means of gathering great power! Trick is confidence, with essence of unyielding! Those who master this technique would be unstoppable, and would possess utter dominance over all!"

Lanz huffed, clearly dismissive. "You're just holding your arms straight out. Not like you'd be able to hold a weapon like that."

"If friends not believe, then try it for yourself! Riku believe Taion should be waking up in a matter of moments."

Lanz and Sena glanced at each other, as if debating whether or not to try it...until, with a mere shrug, they seemed to acquiesce. "Sure, why not," said Lanz with a sleepy grin. "We'll play along."

xx

Taion slowly opened his eyes, feeling the nearby presence of two. What...? Grimacing, he reached for his glasses, placing them onto his face; as his gaze panned from north — far beyond the Rae-Bel Tableland and the Ribbi Flats, he could barely make out the distant plateaus of the Eagus Wilderness, shrouded beneath morning fog — to south, where two people were standing right next to his bedroll. Gazing up, he honestly couldn't think for a moment. "Uhm...good morning...?"

Sena and Lanz stared down at him, impassive.

"...what are you two doing...?"

"We're asserting our dominance," replied Lanz, holding his arms straight out. His legs were likewise flush together, as one standing at attention.

Sena, mirroring her partner's stance, nervously asked, "Are...are you feeling dominated?"

"..." Taion briefly wondered if he was still dreaming. "Am I hallucinating?" Looking down at his hands, he audibly wondered, "Did...I mess up the Sirius Anemone mixture last night...?"

Sena sagged, looking somewhat disappointed that it didn't work. "Aw..."

"Heh, knew it. Riku's just having a laugh," said Lanz, somewhat less crestfallen than Sena. "Come on Sena, let's show Riku what really makes someone unstoppable. Bet I can do a hundred push-ups faster than you!"

"Oh, you're on!"

Thus did the two muscleheads move away, leaving Taion to blink with confusion. What was all that about?

xx

As Lanz and Sena began their normal morning calisthenics, they seemed to put no more thought to their brief rendezvous with Riku.

That suited the little Nopon just fine, as he waddled over to wake up Manana. That was close one. Riku will have to be more of a sneakypon in the future...

(There were certain secrets, after all, which belonged to the eyes and ears of Noponkind alone...)

xxxx

Author's Note: The Nopon Archsage gives the power of T-posing only to a select few!

But clearly, Riku must have some means of gathering the phenomenal cosmic powers he's surely hiding under that afro of his!

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

Author's Note: So, I beat Future Redeemed. It was very...fulfilling. But MAN, my head is spinning with regards to the timeline of everything involving Matthew and Na'el's parents, the Liberators, and whatnot.

Especially regarding a certain common variety Nopon.

This particular segment takes in-between the last two scenes of the ninth installment (the one about Taion and tissues): between where Taion gifts Eunie his last tissue, and where Eunie gets him a gift in return the next day. Also, as before, this does follow the prior narrative convention wherein:

-Nia traversed Aionios with Noah and Company upon her Awakening (so that her Hero Quest could fit in the main plot);
-Melia, instead of instantly teleporting away after being freed, had to be evacuated from Origin due to ether depletion.

Spoilers follow for Future Redeemed.

xxxx

/Time: Chapter 7, during Melia Antiqua's trip to the City/


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BSkTxpJOTo

It was the night of a great feast: a celebration by the City, for the safe return of a long-awaited Queen.

Melia Antiqua had felt a strange somberness over it all: seeing the numerous Citizens laud her, knowing that her presence was the signal for the end of their purgatorial conflict with Moebius. However long they had kept their proverbial vigil over the future of their worlds...how many truly understood the weight of what was to come? From what she knew, Nia had already informed them all about the fact that defeating Z would mean the end of Aionios: had such knowledge been forgotten, in the untold centuries since her imprisonment? Or had it only been considered one possibility out of many?

Some might have felt despair over such uncertainty. That the City — as a whole, at least — were resolved to strive for the future was heartening.

Then again, given their Founders...perhaps it was no surprise.

Hence, late at night — long after the festivities had faded, though doubtless before they would start up again in the morning — Melia quietly departed from her sleeping quarters, using subtle applications of ether to dampen her footsteps. Using her borrowed blanket as a makeshift hooded shawl, she calmly made her way to the vaunted Memorial Hall.

Melia looked over the seven statues, focusing particularly on two: those of House Ortiz and House Reid. Nikol...Shulk. To think that Shulk and Fiora's darling son had slipped free of Moebius's wretched cycle; to think that Shulk, even now, served as part of the proverbial Trinity which kept Origin intact, and endeavored to keep the world standing for just a little bit longer. To persist after all these years...

"Masterpon."

Melia slowly turned, smiling at the sound of such a distinctive voice. "Riku." Kneeling down, she gazed eye-to-eye with the diminutive Nopon. "You followed me."

"Riku could not sleep with loud snoring of Lanz. Tummy also rumbled from too much snacking. Besides, expert craftypon able to work with minimal sleep!" Resting his wing-arms against his hips, he added, "Though not too much."

Melia smiled, impulsively ruffling her hand through the little Nopon's afro. As her eyes turned towards the statue of the Ouroboros Stone, she remarked, "You did not let them make a statue of you?"

"Riku avoid spotlight! Is place for others to be on stage."

"Yet you always seem to find yourself in the company of those who have a hand in changing the fates of many," she wryly remarked. "Like father, like son?"

Riku was not appreciative. "Dadapon was much more engaging with spotlight: natural for Legendary Heropon. Riku prefer to let others be Heropon. Would not be sporting, for only family of Riki to be Heropon. Is Riku wrong?"

Melia smiled. "Sharing the wealth, I suppose you'd call it then."

"Masterpon can call it what Melly wishes: what Queen says goes. Not place for mere common variety Nopon to question."

Melia sighed; it was an ageless sound, one that the diminutive Nopon — one who, like many Nopon, had slipped into Aionios: free of Moebius's cycle, yet cursed with an endless life befitting an 'Endless Now' — doubtless empathized with. "I suppose...you found enjoyment where you could, in those many years...which reminds me of something very interesting."

"Oh?"

"Nia caught me up on a lot, when I awoke from my slumber: the ups and downs; serious matters, and jovial trivialities." A tiny smile crept onto her face as she recalled Nia's precise wording. "She seemed quite amused by how Noah and the others were so...enthusiastic...to learn about how new life is created." Tilting her head, she asked, "Why then would you and Manana raise your hands? Given how many siblings you have, I doubt you are ignorant as to how children are born."

The Nopon huffed. "Riku not liking insinuations. Cannot speak for Manana, but Riku simply play along: not everyday you see naive Hom-Homs get the Flamiis and the Fliers lecture." Grinning in spite of himself, Riku added, "Seeing friends' faces change colors was of great amusing!"

...how cheeky. "For all you seem to differ in temperament from Riki...you can be just as much of a rascal."

"Meh-meh?"

"But I suppose there are worse role models than the Legendary Heropon," she commented with a fond expression. "...he would be proud of you."

"Riku is...simple craftypon. Not even great warrior, without encouragement of Manana and others." With a morose sigh, he added, "Common variety Nopon is lot in life. Riku prefer it that way."

"...if you say so," murmured Melia with a skeptical expression; though she was not privy to all of the details regarding Riku's life on Bionis, it was enough to know that he was one of Riki's eldest, having ventured off to make his own way in life...and many years before Shulk and his comrades had ever set foot in Makna Forest, at that. "But as your Masterpon, and as Riki's close friend...I know that he would not think less of you."

At this, the cryptic Nopon sighed. "Riku not need to be told. After all...kept safe possession of Lucky Seven for many years. In a sense, it like dadapon was always by my side, until time came for Noah to pick up sword." With a definitive nod, he finished with, "But cannot say no to vote of confidence from Queen Melly. Will have to make do."

"As must we all," said Melia, briefly glancing back towards the statue of Shulk. Confidence...to do what what we must, in the end...

After several moments of silence, Riku added another point, almost as an afterthought. "Plus...after hiding away in Keves as simple Bladesmithpon for so many years, it long time since Riku see a teensy-tiny person. Was more nostalgic than the tastiest Tootshroom."

"...I suppose that's as fair a reason as any," admitted Melia, reading between the lines: it had been a reminder that, even in the midst of a world frozen in time, new life continued to persist. A reminder of why we persevere...

The unlikely duo — mysterious Nopon and his regal Masterpon — lingered amongst the statues for a time, letting their memories say all the worlds they needed...for the morning was the dawn of a new (yet old, it was always old) day.

xxxx

Author's Note: The revelation that Riku is the son of Riki (though Kino is a potential possibility, it seems more likely that it's Riki) was somehow so obvious it looped all the way back around to being shocking and surprising at the same time.

 

[JimmyWolk]

Gawd, I didn't even think about this, even though it was one of the bigger red herrings.
Guess another option could have also been that he didn't know how Hom children are made, maybe Nopon hatch?

Author's Note: The revelation that Riku is the son of Riki (though Kino is a potential possibility, it seems more likely that it's Riki) was somehow so obvious it looped all the way back around to being shocking and surprising at the same time.

Click to shrink...

Same. And yeah, Kino could also be possible, but most evidence for that is that they're both green and we don't even know if Nopon colors are all that hereditary. Not sure if him essentially having a weekend stroll on the Bionis shoulder with her counts as much as "travelling" with Melia as the main adventure (unless there's more off-screen of course, but without any sign of those, the implications are what they are).

 

[Ultra Sonic 007]

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BSkTxpJOTo

The campaigns to control the Cent-Omnia Region had been long, varied...and many.

There were times where Keves controlled the majority; Agnus, others. Yet, most of the time, it had been a brutal stalemate.

Alas, the Survey Branch of Agnus had its job: to map out every nook and cranny of Aionios; to meticulously document the extent of Agnian territory; to pinpoint locations of interest, concentrations of creatures, resources, and enemy locales.

The first task, alas, was made ever more difficult by the Annihilation Events.

xxxx

/Time: Five Years Prior to the Main Plot of Future Redeemed/

/Colony Delta, Western Shores of the Cadensia Region/

Taion, a mere third-termer, listened quietly as Lieutenant Seeker delivered their report to the Commander. "-from what our scouts are reporting, these 'Liberators' have an outpost in Colony 9."

"...but Nico thought Colony 9 was on the Ardainian Peaks," remarked the eclectic Commander, referring to the strangely humanoid mountain range far to the southeast of the Urayan Mountains.

"The name is apparently a coincidence, since these Liberators have also been sighted in open conflict with Kevesi soldiers as well."

The ninth-term woman, her long pigtails festooned with spare ether charges, nodded. "I see...as in Nico sees, that is. Do you think we can afford to leave them be?"

"Compared to the Cityfolk to our north? Yes. The Liberators' normal patrol routes aren't impacting our usual survey missions at this juncture. Can't say the same for the City, despite the ceasefire."

(In another time, Taion would have been far more curious about the existence of a third party. However, he was still young...and too focused on doing his job well.)

Once Seeker completed his report, Commander Nico gave them new orders. "Nico, yours truly, wants you to continue as scheduled. Colony Gamma is preparing to establish a long-term presence in the Cent-Omnia Region, and they're going to need the data the Survey Branch can provide. You're dismissed...by Nico."

As the duo departed, Taion finally asked the burning question that had been plaguing him ever since he had been assigned to Delta. "Does our Commander suffer from an impediment of sorts?"

"An obsessive speech pattern, perhaps," lightly remarked Seeker, who was only older than Taion by two terms. "I've found that it gives her a keen eye for detail. Little wonder our Colony has more Survey Branch members than any of the others."

There was a hint of pride in Seeker's voice; Taion, being a mere subordinate, did not comment further. "What's our ETA?"

"We have a week to have our maps updated after the Annihilation Event in the Vermillion Woods, but I'd rather get it done in no more than three days. Gamma's liaison to our Colony is rather...short-tempered."

"You mean Lieutenant Glimmer?"

Seeker nodded, looking suddenly ill. "I've heard she's put in to get a battlefield support role, going forward; if that means she's out of our hair, all the better."

Taion frowned, wondering why the deployment of another Colony's soldier even mattered to the Survey Branch.

Seeker seemed to understand his expression, because he explained further. "You see, Taion...our role is manifold. We do, indeed, provide surveys...but we also survey much more beyond geography and topography. You'd do well to keep that in mind."

"Yes sir," replied Taion with a nod.

xxxx

Sometimes, however, their work ran afoul of outliers: unique monsters, surprise run-ins with Kevesi scouts...things of that nature.

Some outliers were more notable than others.

xxxx

/Time: During Chapter 4 of Future Redeemed/

Taion, now in his eighth term, wondered if Commander Seeker was going to have an ill-timed aneurysm. "I know it sounds ludicrous, but it's likely a weapon of some sort."

Seeker, gazing grimly at the gigantic Ferronis — roughly spherical, forged from dark metal in interlocking and rotating parts — hovering over the Cent-Omnia Region, remarked, "That's not exactly groundbreaking analysis."

"Then why is the Castle stonewalling all of my requests for additional information?" Taion all but yelled. "If it's a Kevesi weapon, we need to learn as much of its capabilities as possible! This is exactly what the Survey Branch is for-"

"Captain." Seeker's words silenced his protests. "If you're not being told anything, it's likely because the Castle doesn't know anything."

(Briefly, the thought crossed Taion's mind that the Castle simply refused to share what they knew...but such thoughts constituted proverbial treason, so he discarded them immediately.) "...understood, Commander."

"At any rate, the Colonies currently stationed in the Cent-Omnia Region have been dropping like flies. We have no information as to the cause, because there have been no survivors to report anything back." Seeker's grim tone brooked no dissent; after all, the total loss of Gamma had been a shock to all of them. "Head to the Vermillion Woods and get our surveys updated. If you find anything that hints as to the nature of that 'Metal Moon' in the sky...then all the better."

Taion held a hand over his heart: the Agnian salute. "Yes sir. I'll provide regular updates."

No matter what, the Survey Branch had a job to do; he would see to it.

xxxx

In the end, no matter what happened, the Survey Branch did its job to the best of their ability.

Even if it was all futile.

xxxx

/Time: During Chapter 5 of Future Redeemed/

Captain Taion and his unit had studiously ignored the odd lights and harrowing sounds coming from the Black Mountains; likewise from the Metal Moon, high in the sky. Ever since they had arrived in the Vermillion Woods a few days ago, the majority of their time had been spent cataloguing the wreckages of Colony 5 and Colony Gamma. (This had included the remnants of Peacebringer Divalo and Stronghammer Dorga; he would have assumed that the two unique Levnises had destroyed each other, had he not seen evidence of Blade damage on their hulls. Who the spark would have been insane enough to fight such mechanical monstrosities on foot?!)

As he finalized their survey of the valley and all the wreckage, one of his subordinates went still. "Uh...is...is that Ferronis...falling...?"

Taion's eyes bolted upward, narrowing in with a laser-like focus upon the Metal Moon. Sure enough, its descent was palpable: slow, yet accelerating. What had happened? Had its inherent propulsion mechanisms failed? "It is."

The massive construct began to glow from sheer friction; terror took hold of the younger Survey Branch members, as they took off for their Levnis at the southern edge of the crater-laden valley.

Taion did not join them; he already knew from its inherent velocity that there would be no escaping the aftermath of the inevitable collision. As such, he simply tapped at his Iris, delivering what would be his final message to his superior.

Even so...a bit of odd petulance leaked out, once his message had been delivered. "I just wanted to update our sparking maps. Is that too much to snuffing ask for?"

Taion's answer came in the form of light, wind, and fire: the fall of the immense Ferronis upon the Cent-Omnia Region drowned out everything else.

xxxx

One could not fault Taion's determination, at the very least.

For a group of cartographers that moonlighted as makeshift spies and intelligence gatherers, the Survey Branch were rather hardy as a whole.

xxxx

Commander Seeker watched — somber and disbelieving to the point of detachment — as the Metal Moon sank beneath the waves...along with the Cent-Omnia Region.

Distracting himself from such devastation, he idly recalled Captain Taion's final message.

'Attached are all materials catalogued from the wreckages of Colony 5 and Colony Gamma.'

'Also, the maps for Cent-Omnia will likely need to be redrawn.'

"More like discarded entirely," he darkly muttered, knowing that Agnus's entire operational handbook was going to change, now that the landmass connecting Aetia, Fornis, Pentelas, and Cadensia was a blasted, sunken ruin. What a pain...and what a waste...

(It was an unusually melancholy thought.)

xxxx

 

[BigFan10]

Even so...a bit of odd petulance leaked out, once his message had been delivered. "I just wanted to update our sparking maps. Is that too much to snuffing ask for?"

Click to shrink...

I can so hear that in his voice, and that was probably a thought of a lot of the Survey Branch too