《UnderCurrent Ex》
End of An Era
There is a legend throughout all of the UnderCurrent''s long histories - A story bent and moulded to different cultures and lands, yet always present in every corner. A story of ''Three Keys'', Beings of power, kindness or sometimes the ability to move the world itself.
Some believe this a self perpetuating myth, a simple act of sorting history into convenient coincidences - Others truly believe that in every generation there are three born with the power to change everything given the right circumstances.
But like all things, myth long ago died away, in the age of technology where even space is conquered, what room is there for simple folktales? The following is said to be an account, the final known conversation of the last two keys thought to of existed
How something like this could of possibly been recorded, whether it is meer fiction or bears seeds of truth - And if these truly were the last two keys to have ever lived - We will probably never know;
The air is filled with the stench of the end. The two figures stand alone atop a small rise in the land, the sky behind them a startling shock of magenta, the ground around them long since scorched and ashen.
There is a seemingly endless moat around the two, a sea of 10,000 blackened corpses, disfigured and unnatural - Some are large and animistic, others small, impish - All pertain near no features but sharp claws and piercing metallic eyes.
The two women at the centre stand back to back with poise and practised grace. One once the shade of strawberry red, the other of ocean blue - Both colours now long since faded, left only as streaks amongst the sea of silver flowing locks that make up their braided hair.
They carry weapons, worn and chipped - Yet loyal and defiant. The silver haired warriors look young and steadfast, yet beneath their grace lies the hints of a prolonged life filled with endless strife.
"How many waves is that now?"
"Thi- Thirty three, I think."
"Good, good. That should be enough right? Any more and they''ll start re-growing, right now there should be just enough for the regular forces to finish them off when we''re gone. Heh, guess we did something heroic in the end - Had we left 34 waves behind us, a whole country might of fallen!"
"I- I still believe we did lots of good."
"Maybe, maybe not. End of the day none of this would of ''appened if we didn''t exist."
"We couldn''t of known that...."
"Is that really the truth? There were signs, we just ignored them - Who wants to believe stuff like this happens in real life, it sounds like some silly twist in a book. ''All along the aliens only attacked because the hero''s protecting against them, were also what attracted them'', but life is cliched like that ain''t it?
She realised it though didn''t she, that''s why she did it, to cope with the guilt - Took her own lif--"
"Don''t say it like that! You make it seem so flippant..."
"....... Ya, sorry. But ya'' know it really should of been our biggest clue eh? For so many years the three of us together fought the monsters, always just barely scraping a victory from defeat - And then, when our leader, strongest of us dies - The two of us alone are suddenly enough to keep holding the line, almost as though..."
The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"The monsters have always been balanced to match the number of us..."
"Ya. All these years since her passing and we''ve ignored the real ''key'' av''ent we? The monsters decreased when she died, so if we were gone for good - The monsters themselves would also stop. No more bloodshed, no more innocents dead. No more fighting endlessly."
"We had hope, we didn''t do it maliciously."
"Hope, hope is one hell of an anaesthesia."
"They say St.Aardig could of been a key, and that she simply left one day, escaped."
"But did she really? All our research would suggest the keys each face something different, we''ve had this endless force of monsters rampant on destroying us and everything around us - While Aardig, she slowly lost herself. Her personality, emotions, everything leaving her a husk. Did she really escaped when she was being hunted from the inside out? Meanwhile we got ''blessed'' with never aging, always ready to be attacked from the outside."
"We didn''t ask for this."
"So? Think of all the people who''ve stood with us, adventures, armies, entire nations! All thinking we were their only hope against the faceless dark! That one day we would eventually overcome it, one day we would break through the curse and defeat them once and for all."
"... ''Hard work and guts'' she used to say."
"But sometimes that just isn''t enough, doesn''t matter how much you believe in yourself, sometimes it just isn''t possible to break reality or whatever this hell is... We just delayed the inevitable, while shedding innocent blood all the way - There was always only one solution to it all."
".....I still love you."
The taller girl who had once owned such brilliant red hair, froze a moment upon hearing those words before letting her weapon fall to the ground with a clatter and turning to embrace her partner in a passionate embrace, their lips locking.
The shorter, once blue haired girl''s eyes shot open for second at this before closing gently and returning the kiss tenderly.
As they finally stood apart from one another, the once red-head smiled brightly; "Of course you do, all these years, decades, and I still love you too - Nothings changing that."
"I hope we can meet again."
"What like reincarnation? Didn''t think your religion spouted that."
"It doesn''t I just want to believe we meet again, as other people, or birds or in another place and time - All three of us once more."
"That sounds too kind an idea for a world like this to have."
"Kind? No I don''t think so - To be born again, have to live and suffer all new trials - To die over and over. Not kind at all, but if we could meet again I think it would be worth it."
"Heh, by that logic we could of already done this, thousands of times even. One of us could of been Aardig in a past life, who knows how long the keys have been cycling this curse."
"If I was with you again, I wouldn''t mind being a key one more time."
"Pah! Your crazy, all this again? No thanks!"
"Even for me?"
"........ Well, maybe."
"Anyway I think, or I guess hope... That it''s ending now - They say magic is dying out, that the old races are fading - We two could be the last Magi, the last keys."
"Wouldn''t that be nice. You''re right though, they say the last dragon is dead, that the Empire''s remaining colonies are declaring independence - How many years till technology eliminates what''s left of the old world? How many years has the second Age got left, a few hundred maybe? But as for us, I don''t know - I think this curse might be immortal."
"Maybe, but we never did find any proof, that any of the other keys are about to do what we are - For all three keys to leave this world, not of disease, not from falling to the monsters - But of their own violation..."
"We could be breaking the cycle after all these millennia, maybe there is some hope."
"I thought you didn''t like hope?" The shorter of the two giggled softly.
"I got to meet you and her right? I guess there might be a little, just a little though mind you." The taller grinned back boisterously.
They drew their final breaths and readied for the end - The last of the monsters would indeed soon be beaten - A new day would at last rise, and the Second Age would end, with the Keys thought to be lost forever - Atleast for now.
"I love you."
Phoenix - Part 1/4
Phoenix - Chapter 1
It stood almost 40 metres tall, glimmering in a spectacular accent of gold, massive but still sleek and angular - The Phoenix.
Fittingly the only one of its kind, and all going well, the only one there would ever be - Or so wished its chief collaborator.
The Doctor stood in front of his towering creation, taking it all in, admiring every curve, every elegant fold, each scar of a half decade of battling.
"Hey Professor! You must be chuffed with this last test hey? Total success as always." Beamed a newcomer, a man in his early thirties, tall with close shaven black hair. The Doctor had come to know him well in the last few years - Despite his age, the young man was something of a prodigy, highly talented, hardworking and with sheer skill enough to lead a project as delicate as theirs;
"Yup just one more last test tomorrow and it''s over, fancy that eh? Finally got the higher-ups approval to start development of a phoenix production type - They''ve ah, well, they offered me my own team for the next project - In fact they''re even willing to let me keep using this ship as a base for it. I, ya know, of course they''ll probably want a learned man like yourself for bigger things but just thought you should know we would all welcome you staying on for whatever the next project turns out to be prof - Couldn''t of got this far without you."
The ''Prof'' turned sharply from his place in front of a small computer terminal wired to the mech itself, his diminutive stature and narrow glasses hiding old, tired eyes - Struck the young head-technician as colder than usual;
"Indeed I have heard all the tales of how poorly control of her was before my arrival - Seemingly you just pointed her toward the enemy and then shut off her system to retrieve her, hmmm."
The technician receded a little, scratching the back of his head, "Ah-ha, I always forget you weren''t here for the first few years - Ya control was tough before you arrived. Well I best get my checks in before the party - You coming?"
The doctor scoffed, shaking his head dismissively - "Her final flight is yet to come, is it not too soon for celebrations?"
"Ah no way, tomorrow''s test is just a demonstration to show the admirals what it is they''ve invested in, today was the last proper test."
"Well then, better not keep them waiting - I will preform the checks myself, parties have seldom been my ''scene''." The doctor said back, as he did he offered out a hand to the chief technician. Surprised for a moment, the young man quickly took the offered hand with a smile - Accepting the doctor''s kind offer to cover both their work loads;
"Thanks Prof, it really has been a pleasure working with you, don''t be stranger ya hear." - With that the smiling man left the hanger bay.
The whole place empty now, everyone attending a party - ''How unprofessional'' - Then again the doctor felt inclined to offer them some slack, it had been half a decade''s work, career defining for most of them - But the second he felt that moment of comradery, he spat on the cold metal ground beneath, disgusted by the feeling.
None of them deserved kindness, empathy or mercy - No one on this entire ship was innocent, all were complicit in his eyes.
"And they''re all fools too." The lone man mumbled to himself, before looking upwards to the massive form of Phoenix, addressing it freely now;
"They won''t mass-produce you, never! They wanted to dismantle you not long ago, recycle you for precious Goibniu - No they''ll use you as a base, to murder more children like you my dear girl."
Yes ''Murder'', that was the word that had driven him - It hadn''t been easy to infiltrate a top secret TSU project, his doctorate was hardly enough to enter this part of the military. And when he had finally snuck his way aboard, it was years too late - She was long dead.
She had been his daughter once, a beautiful vibrant young girl - And he her foolish father. She had called him one day, back when the world was normal, told him not to get the train home from the university - He''d laughed but her voice was so frantic, and instead he splurged on a Taxi home, no big deal.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.?That evening the local and national news had been filled with just one story, the terrible tragedy of a freak train crash, dozens dead. From there she had simply known things from time to time - When not to go out without an umbrella, when a food was out of date, and on one occasion which horse to bet on to win them a small fortune.
And like the fool he was he had written a paper, claiming that perhaps the Magi weren''t as extinct as everyone thought - And then the war began, then his daughter went missing.
He had floated through life without a purpose, the world was ending, the Abhailen revolution burning across all of Bhaile - He had begun to hope he would simply get caught up and killed in all the fighting. But the invasion stopped one town short of his home, a home his daughter had advised him to buy just before her disappearance - Even the war refusing to put him out of his misery by a mere few miles.
And then it had happened, a friend with connections who remembered his paper, let him in on a little secret - The war was ending, all thanks to TSU using a bonafide Magi.
That was when the doctor knew - Knew why the police had never stood a chance of finding his little girl.
It had taken years, and it had been too late, but he found her - A secret project that had never even been deployed in the war. A gaint golden mech, controlled by an ''Artificial Magi Brain''.
That brain was what remained of his beautiful girl - Its free will long gone, its soul a victim, kept alive by a series of artificial organs - The machine and his girl, one and the same.
But it hadn''t worked, the machine was impossible to control and so it had been of no value to the military, not when they had the ''First Casnel'', another magi controlled unit but who''s pilot hadn''t required butchering.
But he wasn''t about to see his daughter scraped for parts - Never.
"No, Mass-production would be impossible, too much Goibniu runs through your veins my dear - What they seek to do is simply replicate your brain, to create more fully subservient Magi like you - But don''t worry, father won''t let them have you much longer."
He had made her work, made the system plausible - Made the Phoenix invincible - And so when Abhaile tried for independence a second time 6 month''s ago, they had been ready.
And from there, he had perfected her.
He began to active the programmes, years of inputting backdoors, secret codes, new ''fail-safes''.
"Never let them say our family leaves a job half done my child, you will complete that final test, but not the way they want of you - Destroy them with your own thoughts, learn to be your own being again - And once you have, fly free forever my dear, let nothing stand in your way!!"
The Doctor knew this would make up for nothing, he could never be forgiven for his sins, for being so foolish as to site his own child in a frivolously researched paper - For taking so long to find her, allowing her to be maimed, sliced, experimented on - For failing to protect her.
He input the final command the Phoenix would ever obey.
"Hey Prof you still here? You haven''t seen my handheld around have you?" Called out a voice from the nearest doorway.
''Far too late, chief technician.''
The Phoenix rose.
"Prof, what''s goin--"
The young man didn''t get to finish, the Phoenix turned, the two glowing red slits for eyes moving in his direction - The machine didn''t need eyes, The Doctor had even tried to get them removed, after all, her eyes had been the first thing stolen from her by the researchers - Better to improve her foresight abilities.
It reached its gargantuan hand out, bigger than any man, and crushed the lead technician in a bloody instant.
With a thunderous roar the second hand came down around the doctor, he found himself in the gap before finger and thumb.
"Fly my daughter, be free at last." He spoke softly.
The Phoenix reared up, the hanger bay had not been made for a mech that large to stand upright - Its sheer bulk strained against the ceiling. Then it gave way.
The Doctor stared up at his magnum opus, in his final moments mesmerised by its colossal majesty, its all encompassing, glowing beauty filling all his vision - Before the vacuum of space claimed his life at last.
That day The States Union research vessel ''Shelly'', sank, torn apart piece by piece from the inside - Lost with all hands.
The Phoenix left unaccounted for.
Phoenix - Part 2/4
Chapter 2;
Combat Commander, Major Donald Moncha strode his way down the gleaming silver corridors of his home in space - The good ship ''Curadh'' - A vessel best described as a gleaming white sphinx, long runways in place of feet, and towering bridge for a head - An awkward mix of a design philosophy suited for water-bourn warships, and the more modern ideals of space combat.
Moncha had been assigned to the ship since its maiden voyage, he was known to all aboard who saluted and made polite small talk as he past them by. He wasn''t exactly in a bad mood, but certainly not a good one.
It had been a meer 6 months since the Curadh had found itself at the forefront of a grizzly gruella war - They had lost alot of good men, including their Captain - Now having joined a new elite unit being called ''TSU-s'' (very much so against Moncha''s wishes), they were once more being ordered into battle.
He stepped into one of the many identical doorways lining the corridor and glanced around the room.
Briefing room 3 was a fairly mundane affair, long and narrow, filled with rows of uncomfortable plastic chairs, with a projected screen on the front wall.
Almost all these chairs were already filled but that hardly bothered Moncha, not giving any sort of apology he strode his way over to the last empty chair - Sitting down next to two bodybuilder looking men, fellow Vijaik mech-pilots recently appointed his wingmen, who had served alongside him in the recent conflict - 2nd lieutenants Yazan and Gemon.
Standing at the front of the room was their new leader, Captain Marie Synapse.
She didn''t glare at him or scowl, she was far above such petty retribution to punish Moncha''s arriving late - Instead she simply turned to the screen behind her and began giving the briefing as though the meeting had always been intended to start ten minutes late.
It wasn''t long before Moncha and just about everyone in the rooms jaws hit the floor.
"-- After its escape of the research vessel ''Shelly'' the Phoenix has appeared to primarily continue on with its original programming, hunting down a small sect of dissidents in this section here." The Captain stated after explaining the basic facts, pointing to a section on a map of the solar system.
An engineer in a row further back behind Moncha, cautiously rose a hand to ask a question; "But Ma''am, surely it will run out of power soon?"
The Captain nodded to the man, "No, the Phoenix is designed to be self sufficient, it can acquire fuel and repair resources from the units it attacks - And having no living pilot, it does not require the intake of food or oxygen."
Moncha was the next to speak up, not raising a hand, "So just to summarise Cap''ain, TSU-s want us, alone, to hunt down and destroy a rouge experimental Casnel - A machine which by your account is nearly 40 metres tall, covered in the near invincible metal Goibniu, has an artificial brain inside that can supposedly read the future and has so far destroyed any mechs, fighters and warships that have dared to come close to it? Ma''am?!"
The Captain fixed her level gaze on Moncha - "Yes Major, that is an adequate if somewhat dramatic summation - There will be a further combat briefings in 2 hours, for now you are all dismissed, begin having all sections prepare for combat. That is all."
And like the briefing ended as fast as it had begun.
Hesitantly, the few dozen collected officers of the ship began to filter out of the meeting room, many sparing concerned glances towards the Captain and then the Major. It had not, in Moncha''s opinion, been a very good briefing.
When the previous Captain had given one there would be moments of levity, people could talk freely, argue freely, hash out ideas and concerns - This meeting had been quick, cold and efficient - Moncha was not impressed.
He stood in front of his chair, stocky arms crossed in front of him but making no move for the door, instead glaring forwards at the Captain, who herself stood conversing with her aide as the man shut down the projector.
After a few minutes almost everyone was gone - Moncha''s two wingmen offered him worried looks before leaving, followed by the Captain''s Aide.
Then there were two.
"Well, what was that?" Moncha said after a minute of painful silence.
"I intend to discuss the matter more prominently with you later Major, you are after all my Combat Commander yes? This meeting was simply to inform each section of the news."
She replied back factually.
Moncha took a step closer to the Captain - He was a large man, over 6 foot, muscular, the Captain on the other hand was in her 50s, grey hair and few signs of her age & stressful lifestyle beginning to show - And yet to Moncha''s ongoing annoyance it always felt like she towered over him.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.?He was a mountain compared to her height and frame, but even now her icy-cold eyes and steadfast composer made him feel the smaller person.
"I told you this would happen, I said we shouldn''t join TSU-s! A few weeks with them and they''re sending us on a death charge?"
The Captain paused - "Perhaps, it could indeed be a test to prove if we are really dedicated to this new speical forces unit - In which case we shall simply pass the test."
Moncha bristled - "Are you actually mad? We have three Vijaiks, we couldn''t beat an ordinary Casnel but you want us to go up against some behemoth super mech, thing! And even if we can, what for?
Why do you so badly want us to join this blasted elite group - Who''s first act need I remind you, was to execute your Father!"
What annoyed him most in the many conversations they''d had like this over the last couple months, was her total lack of reaction when he brought up the ship''s previous Captain - No flinch or biting back, just a cool rebuttal;
"States-Union command would of seen this vessel dismantled and its crew scattered had we not volunteered for TSU-s, you know that too Major."
"And how would that be worse then us all getting killed for nothing? You think this will protect your Father''s legacy - By charging yourself and this whole ship towards death?"
The captain finally allowed herself a small sigh before going on - "I had intended to discuss this with you properly before the next briefing, I suppose now is as good a time as any.
Firstly we will be more than 3, the Phoenix is currently chasing a small group of Remembrance survivors through the site of a previous battlefield - We believe they were scavenging for parts."
"So?"
"So Major, four of this squad have fallen, but two others have been on the run from the Phoenix for nearly 5 days - To pull that off they must be highly skilled, in fact intelligence suggests their leader to be the woman known only as ''The Scarlet Scourge'', who we believe to now be the field-commander of Remembrance following its commanders recent demise."
That name atleast did give Moncha some pause - 6 months ago the war with Remembrance had ended when most of the rebelling fleet were wiped out and the majority of its mech had committed to a kamikaze attack lead by their field commander and Ace among Aces, Thee Bane of Konpei.
Thee Scarlet Scourge had been the next highest ranking Ace & officer of the group and lead the retreat - At this point it was generally agreed she was the best pilot Remembrance had left to offer, moreover the area being the site of a battle would make for plenty of cover, advantageous for a close quarters specialist like Moncha.
"And since when do pirates or rebels team up with us - And besides, what''s 5 Vijaiks going to do against this Phoenix? Face it Captain, we need to call time - Ask for reinforcements and if we can''t get those from our new masters, then go above their heads and ask the regular Navy."
"No Major, there isn''t time - Intelligence believes the Phoenix to be a new-born of sorts, for years it has followed strict programming, now that it has broken free of that, it is rapidly learning a whole new way of existence - The longer we take to subdue it, the more intelligent it gets - Who knows what it will attack next once it finishes off the rebel units - Right now is perhaps the only time it will ever have a weakness."
"And how is that our problem?!" Moncha shot back, growing more frustrated.
The Captain allowed herself the smallest of frowns, "Honestly? I suppose it isn''t, people will die but that is true at all times, people are always dieing and we are just one small group of soldiers who happen to have slightly more autonomy than most."
"Exactly--"
"But, I believe it is right that we do this - TSU-s is in its infancy, we have a chance to set the precedence for what it will be - Many want it to be little more than an oppressive force, using terror to prevent any further rebellions - I would see it used otherwise. I believe we have a duty to right the wrongs of our past.
The Phoenix is the prime example, its artificial brain was once a human, an innocent civilian no less - Who our own military tore apart, experimented on and mutilated in a desperate attempt to stop the First War, only to not finish in time to even complete the thing.
That girl and many more like her, were murdered for the sake of us Moncha - We didn''t ask for it no, we didn''t even know it was happening, so maybe you are right, maybe it has nothing to do with us - But I would see us be better than that, take the chance at life we were given to right the past, bring peace to atleast one little girl torn from her life for our unknowing sakes.
I believe that''s what my Father died doing too, trying to right the past, and perhaps someday we can do the same for him - But right now this is what I firmly believe need to be done - Will you help me with that Major Moncha?"
The Major stared slack jawed at the woman. Never in all their ''debates'' had she been so open with him - And for the first time he truly felt like he was talking to the daughter of his hero, that charismatic unwavering ''goodness''.
He had never really understood it himself or cared that much for justice and such abstract concepts, but when the old captain had given speeches, it had stirred him - And now once more he found himself wondering why he had even disagreed in the first place.
He stood down.
"Fine, fine whatever - Its madness but you''re the boss." He said at last, slouching his shoulders and making for the door to leave, Captain Synapse calling out just before he could reach it;
"Oh and Major one last thing, we have more than just three Vijaiks - An old friend of yours has been returned, its waiting for you in the hanger-bay."
****
Phoenix - Part 3/4
Chapter 3
The Captain had been telling the truth when she had claimed an old friend awaited Moncha in the hanger bay - ''Old friend indeed...''
The ''Casnel G-Type Beta'' had been a gleaming white and silver machine - Small compared with alot of its fellows, standing at only 15 metres, it was highly experimental - And these days thoroughly battered.
Moncha had last seen it 6 months ago, during the final battle of what was quickly becoming known as ''The Remembrance Incident'' - Of course most felt that name was crass.
The so-called ''Incident'' had lasted for months and been an all out guerrilla war - Taking the lives of thousands of soldiers and an unknown number of civilians. The Curadh had found itself at the forefront of many of these small battles, with the Casnel Beta as their spearhead.
Moncha hadn''t been the machine''s original pilot, though it was now him sitting in its new cockpit. They''d been handed the machine after rescuing a research facility under Remembrance attack - By rights it hadn''t been ready for combat, a point which the young man who''d come with it had been quick to point out.
The lad and Moncha had butted heads, bickered endlessly and eventually, became friends - Comrades.
But the boy had made a mistake, one Moncha had tried to stop but failed.
On a few occasions they had come face to face with Remembrance''s ad-hoc leader Thee Bane of Konpei, who''d gotten his hands on a Casnel of his own. Against Moncha''s better judgement, the young man had entered into a sort of rivalry with the enemy ace - Only a Casnel can equally fight a Casnel.
And then it ended. Six months ago, in the final battle of the incident - The young man had faced off against The Bane and lost.
The Beta type Casnel was after all just a prototype, not meant for combat - Its Goibniu concentration was around 44%, but almost all of that was dedicated to its generator, weapons and thrusters - The idea was something of a glass cannon, an incredibly fast and hard hitting machine with little armour.
After multiple battles the Bane had clearly realised this, and in a single move, rammed an Arc Staff straight through the Torso armour and gouged out the cockpit, along with Moncha''s young friend.
He sat now in the new cockpit, the original had been a complicated affair but this one was similar enough to his normal mech that he''d quickly gathered the controls.
Moncha hadn''t been expecting to ever see the Beta again - After the battle he had personally recovered what was left of it - Personally forced the cockpit open to see what remained of his superheated comrade.
And personally signed off when it was shipped away, to be studied and perhaps used as the basis for new models. Looking at it he could only presume that''s what they had spent most of the 6 months doing, the repairs were lacking put lightly.
Across the once gleaming white surfaces, were patches of grey and dull silver where cheaper metals had been used. The high power rifle had also not been replaced, instead issued with a regular medium range weapon and draped over its shoulders was a cape off all things - In effect now all it had going for it was its speed.
The Curadh''s head engineer had tried to explain the cape was experimental, capable of turning invisible in some way - But Moncha had shook the man off, today it would be nothing more then an odd fashion accessory - After all if the Phoenix really could see you, even sense the future, then what good was a camouflage trick going to be?
He still remembered the chief''s face when he''d asked for all the ''spares'' to be attached to the Beta-Repair.
Moncha collected parts, ''borrowing'' weapons and ammo whenever they entered a port - 6 months ago he had pretty much drained that supply but he had been fast collecting more - Some disposable missile launchers were quickly affixed to the mech - A spare rifle and some extra Arc staffs too.
Not much but he planned to take no chances today.
He floated a little ahead of his two wingmen in their regular Vijaiks - In the rear-view camera was the form of the Curadh having stopped just outside the debris field. Said graveyard loomed before Moncha now.
Regardless of how far you looked left or right the field seemed to stretch forever - An endless constellation of rusted, rotted metal shard - A sea of husked out abandoned warships, the odd floating limb of what had once been a fellow mecha.
A still fresh site of death, one with many a ghost for the major.
Once he''d taken it all in he turned to his communication board;
"Alright lads, you ready?"
"Ai Sir!" Came back the reply.
Moncha smiled, his two wingmen were some of the best - The young man who had once piloted the Beta had been too - His soul Moncha supposed, could still be lingering on this very battlefield.
There had been a time not long ago that Moncha hoped him, his two wingmen and that young man might be his last ever squad - That after all the fighting they had been through, they would just get guard duty for a few years. But the young man was long dead, and this mission was far from guard duty.
He threw the machine''s control forward, the mech beginning to almost rattle as the speed increased dramatically.
"Come in Major Sir? Major you are moving out of formation, come in?" Called out the voice of the bridge radio operator.
A second, further away voice cut across;
"Put the major directly through to my terminal Ensign."
The stern voice quickly became alot closer - "Explain yourself Major. Why are you increasing speed while your subordinates have slowed to a crawl?"
Moncha cocked a grin, "Just a little change in plans Ma''am, nothing to worry about."
"Major this is a direct order, come back now, this reckless course of action--"
"Eh that hurts my feeling Ma''am, nothing reckless about it - Right the wrongs of the past, that''s what you wanted right?"
Still cool and composed, just a miniscule hint of frustration crept into the Captain''s voice, "Major, this impulsiveness is not the way to handle things."
"Heh, impulsiveness is my best trait! Cya later Cap''ain."
And then the radio cut out, Moncha now out of signal range.
****
It was beautiful, it shouldn''t of been but it was.
It passed by in an instant, a golden streak across all his monitors for a second and then gone.
Weapons of war are never beautiful, Moncha knew that better than most.
Sure he''d known men who named their machines, referred to ships as ''she'' - But that was different.
Spend enough time on the battlefield and you came to know all weapons as simply the tools trying to take the lives of all your comrades, and you too of course - Perhaps you came to know your own weapon as a partner of sorts but that was it.
Yet each glimpse he caught of the Phoenix as he progressed deeper into the debris field, filled him with a horrific sense of beauty - This howling, gigantic golden bird soaring through the skyline.
In his long career he could only think of one other time he had felt that way. Back in the First War, when he had been a regular jet pilot - He had seen it once on the horizon, the so called ''First Casnel'' - In a way the older sister of the Phoenix.
The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.?Although it had been regular sized and silver not gold - The first Casnel had glowed like a God, invincible in battle, a guardian angel to pilots like Moncha, a sign that perhaps the Union really could win what would become the first of many conflicts with the Abhailiens.
That glimpse, that feeling had stuck with him for a long time - But never had he ever dared fear that he might one day find himself standing against that beauty - His hands, for the first time in years, trembled not from sadness or anger - But fear.
It almost felt like he should bow, prostrate himself to the being of such immensity flashing before him.
Breaking him out of his trance came a laser signal, contacting over the open channels he had left on - A gruff, grizzled voice shattering his trance;
"Oi, who the bloody hell are you meant to be then?"
Moncha rose an eyebrow and then laughed, the tension droping immensely;
"States-Union Special branch, Major Moncha, Combat Commander extraordinaire - I can keep going but that''s probably too much classified info as is. And you are, Miss?"
There was a somewhat surprised scoff across the line - "Pah, who says I''m a woman?"
Moncha grinned slightly - ''So that''s how this is gonn''a be?'', he thought to himself - The connection being what it was he had simply guessed the gender, the voice was deep and patchy enough to be either or neither - But the Captain had said Remembrance were engaging the Phoenix and that had narrowed the number of people that could possibly be hiding out here...
After Moncha failed to respond for a few seconds, the hidden voice continued on, "Fine whatever, you can just call me... ''Red'' got it? Now what I want to know is what you''re here for? Are you back-up for ''it'' or?
And answer carefully, I''ve got a mega-particle-launcher trained on you waiting for your answer!"
Moncha stroked his chin thoughtfully - "Actually its your lucky day, though it may a beauty, today is clean up duty."
"What''s beautiful about that monster?! And why should I believe that? Prove it!"
''Red'' barked back.
''I suppose that makes sense, this persons been fighting beings like the Phoenix for years, novelty of fighting man-made demi-gods probably wears off after a while...''
Moncha chuckled, "I don''t need proof, because you already believe me - My Intelligence operators say you''ve been out here for half a week, that means you''ve seen the Phoenix destroy TSU machines too right? ?So you know I can only be here to either retrieve or destroy it."
"....Fine then, say I believe you - What''s the deal, you an elite Casnel strike team? Or you got a few regular squads spread out all around here getting ready to pounce?"
"Neither, I''ve got two Vijaiks and 1 ship, but I''d rather keep them in reserve." Moncha chirped back jovially.
"Yo- You What!? Who did you have to piss off to get this job!?"
The Major smiled at that remark, "She''s actually nice once you get to know her. Anyway speaking of squads, how''s yours doing?"
Red''s tone lowered a little though she replied without hesitation - "4 dead within five minutes of meeting that thing. All newbies recruited in the last few months, they never stood a chance - We were only here to scavenge materials, not fight.
Me ''an one other guy''ve spent the last few days evading that thing but his machine finally gave up the ghost about a quarter hour ago - He abandoned it and is floating around out there somewhere - Waiting for his oxygen to run out..."
Moncha internally cursed his luck, "So just you and me? What you got?"
Drawn-out dry laughter, cackling really, filled the air-waves; "Ha-ha, bugger all! I''m in a regular old Vijaik Heavy - Ran out of ammo days ago, running on fumes - I got two Calabar Blades and maybe half an hour of fuel left. The particle cannon thing was just bluff, though you probably figured that much."
The Vijaik heavy had been a great machine... five years ago. A hulking, doom-headed, bulky mech specialising in ground based combat.
Moncha sighed and shrugged his shoulders before responding, "Well still better than nothing, here have this - Best of luck, I doubt either of us could follow the others orders."
As he spoke his Vijaik released and tossed across its spare rifle - Out of a clump of metal in front of him at last appeared the hand of his conversing partner, grabbing the passing gun.
"What''s to stop me just buggering off while you act as my decoy?" Came the reply.
"You think you can grab that subordinate of yours and make it far enough away to be safe, then be my guest." Moncha stated back earnestly.
There was a brief pause before finally the entirety of the Vijaik-Heavy emerged out of its metal camouflage and onto Moncha''s monitor - "Alright then TSU-Flyboy, show me what''cha got!"
****
As a scalding golden blast of energy seared away paint and armour plating alike when it glanced off Moncha''s mech - The realisation suddenly came to him, that after so many pilot''s recent deaths in the Remembrance Incident, it was entirely plausible that he and this ''Red'' person were currently the two best pilots alive in the whole solar system - However this was not the impression one would of gotten looking at the battle thus far.
It had been ten minutes since he''d met the lone Remembrance pilot and as planned they had simply entered battle the next time the Phoenix had soared by. A few stray energy blasts and they had its attention.
It was only up close Moncha really saw how abnormally large it was. It was easy to see ''36m height'' on a piece of paper, but up close that meant a whole different thing.
A single one of the machines long lanky, clawed arms was as lengthy as his entire mech. It had mass for sure, but was also sleek and angular. Its head a sheer block with two glowing red slit eyes - On its backs were no wings, but instead two long twisting tails, each fitted with a small cannon of their own.
It looked avian despite its massive size - There was a majesty to its elegant, perfectly calculated movements.
He dodged another 3 round burst from its main cannon, each a golden bolt of incredible heat.
Unlike Moncha''s Casnel, the Phoenix carried no armaments - Instead they were all fixed directly to it.
On it''s right arm, between its massive wrist and elbow, was a gigantic barrel cannon - A cannon that being wired directly to the Phoenix would never run out of ammo, for as long as its generators functioned.
On its left arm forearm a folding vambrace, acting as a small shield - Ordinarily this would be useless for defending a mech, being too small and easily destroyed - But the Phoenix was different, every shot fired at it either missed, or was blocked by this vambrace, which was left without a scratch, as though the Phoenix knew exactly where and when every shot would come in from.
Combine that with its two tails, which could shoot at you in directions it wasn''t even looking in - And you were left with no openings.
Moncha had originally planned for close-quarter combat, his speciality but that was proving impossible.
He would fire a barrage of rifle fire and charge close with weapon drawn, only for the enemy to block his shots and force him back with a barrage of its own, all while looking in the opposite direction.
Red on the other hand was bafflingly to Moncha, managing much better - The woman was weaving in and out of debris, then popping out as close as possible, dodging anything the Phoenix''s cannons threw her way and then attacking head on with a gaint Calabar great-sword. All of this was an incredible feat of Vijaik-mastery that even Moncha found himself in awe of, a tiny crimson blur rallying against the golden gaint.
Of course the Phoenix somehow always simply blocked this sword with its Vambrace, held the position for a moment before flinging her machine away with a swing of its massive golden arms, like a giant of a man backhanding mere child - Even if Moncha and Red attacked simultaneously, in perfect sync, The Phoenix would wiggle its way free, or simply blast its way back to an advantageous vantage point within the debris.
Nearly 15 minutes, half the time Red had told him her machine had left, and neither of them had managed a single scratch on the enemy, not even a dent against its gleaming surfaces.
But what worried Moncha more wasn''t his friend of opportunity''s energy levels - Or their inability to break this stalemate - It was the simple fact that they couldn''t keep going like this even if they had all the energy and weapons in the world.
His head was pounding from the concentration it took to keep up, to dodge the golden silhouettes of fire, any one of which could probably take him down in one shot - His Casnel''s cape was now littered with holes where it had been burned through.
His body ached from the physical exertion of simply piloting the machine this hard, pushing its specs too go just a little bit faster, to dodge the tiniest bit quicker.
The Phoenix would never tire, never weaken from exhaustion, never need to sleep or eat and as long as it could stop to gather supplies from time to time, it would never break at this rate.
''Alright Captain, you wanted us to right the wrongs of the past - Well you got a Union Ace and a Remembrance Ace here, fighting the fight of our life''s against the ghost of said past - Now what the hell do we do?!''
Phoenix - Part 4/4
Chapter 4
"Lieutenant Gemon, Yazan, what do you think it is you are doing?" The Captain''s voice issued over the communications line as the two in question continued to set up an intricate minefield a short distance in front of the good ship Curadh.
"Major''s orders Ma''am, don''t worry boss knows what he''s doing."
Captain Marie Synapse, daughter of the somewhat more famous, ''Head Captain Synapse'' as was, allowed her brow to crease ever so slightly. All around her in the large semi-circle room of the ship''s bridge, were various officers trying their best not to look in their captain''s direction.
Even those who hadn''t heard Major Moncha abandoning his orders, had by now learned of the news by hushed whispers.
The original plan was gone, the entire mech team was acting on its own initiative and the Curadh was simply holding position on the edge of the debris field.
The Captain had reminded composed, never raising her voice, never demanding anything, simply sitting in her raised chair overlooking the room.
There was a few more moments of silence until finally, with the smallest of sighs;
"I appreciate your loyalty to the Major."
No reply. Captain Synapse had in her short months as the ships CO, spoken and argued frequently with Major Moncha, but far less so with his two perpetually grinning, literally blockheaded subordinates.
That said she prided herself on reading the people under her, and in the brief engagements she had witnessed of the two wingmen, it had become clear to her that they were far from ''stupid''.
You would be forgiven for seeing 2nd lieutenants Yazan and Gemon as two muscle bound pilots, who left all the thinking to Moncha - Indeed if you spoke with either of them for long they gradually grew quiet - Their jovial smiles would retract into more polite grins and they would simply stop talking back.
Many took this as them being too slow to keep up with any conversation deeper than friendly banter, but the Captain disagreed. It was her belief that the two simply knew when to shut up and listen carefully.
After another long minute of silence, she decided to continue;
"Lieutenants I''ve just been informed of what I had hoped for - At point delta 5 you will see an interesting heat signature, a battleship - Heavily damaged and abandoned, but with a generator that never quite went critical."
Still no reply - "Gentlemen your loyalty to the Major-- No to this ship and all its crew is truly admirable, but I ask you to now trust me also."
A long pause before finally, "If that broken ship wasn''t there, then the Major''s plan would still be best though, right Captain Ma''am?"
"Yes, I suppose it might be."
"Heh-hey, no worries, sounds good to me, right Gemon?"
The Captain allowed herself a moment of deep relief.
****
It had been 23 minutes since Moncha and ''Red'' had begun their attempt to wound the Phoenix.
They had both used up their rifle ammo, both lost melee weapons, fuel and whole lot of paint - They were both coming to a breaking point.
Moncha sat back in his chair after dodging yet another counter attack, he watched as ''Red'' once more made another attempt of her own to little avail.
He took a heavy breath - "Well only a couple more plans left now." - Not waiting for his resolve to dissipate, Moncha rammed forward the acceleration, ran his hand along a switch board like it were a piano and braced for impact.
His now more grey than white, Casnel soared towards the ever glowing shape of the phoenix, all around the Casnel the disposable missile launchers fired in sync, a massive barrage of grey cylindrical missiles coursed forward, a moment later the emptied pods ejected and the Casnel emerged once more out of the plume of smoke left by the launch.
The Phoenix turned almost lazily, it blocked a few of the projectiles with its Vambrace, but let others simply smash into it, the massive explosions they delivered not leaving even a scratch.
Moncha''s Casnel continued forward, now dodging yellow bolts of flame as the enemy returned fire - With a sleek motion the battered Casnel unsheathed a long spear, the head glowing with an arc of super-heated energy, as well as a more regular sword shaped Arc-Staff in its other hand.
Finally closing the distance Moncha''s mech lunged the spearhead forward, aimed squarely at the Phoenix''s beating heart - The beast in turn grabbed the passing shaft in one of its massive claws, the spear shattering to pieces instantly in its grasp.
But Moncha didn''t pause for a moment, the sword in his other hand swinging fourth for its own attempt - The Phoenix blocking handily with its other arm.
"NOW!!" Moncha roared over his radio - They hadn''t discussed this, there was no plan, in fact the longer the battle went on, the less ''Red'' said anything over the open comms at all - He merely hoped against hope that as fellow warriors, they had read each others intentions correctly - And he wasn''t wrong.
The Phoenix fully occupied with Moncha''s desperate assault could only defend against Red, no as Moncha was now sure, Thee Scarlet Scourge, using its two smaller tail cannons:
The woman in the antique of a machine easily sidestepping these smaller blasts mid-flight, swung her gigantic great sword over head, and came down like almighty thunder against the Phoenix''s open back.
Moncha whopped for joy, throwing his machine into a downward push to get it away from the incoming retaliation - He stared up at the Phoenix, ready to see how much damage Scarlet''s attack had landed.
----
The Calabar blade shattered, its thousands of reinforced, chainsaw like teeth ground to dust in an instant, against nothing but the unremarkable back of the Phoenix, the giant blade fell apart.
In the very next instant the Phoenix turned at shocking speed and simply slaped the Scarlet Scourge''s dilapidated machine away like some pesky insect.
It wasn''t for long, but for a few moments Moncha just started at his screens - He really had hopped that would do it, a direct hit, but no - This was the beauty he''d witnessed all those years ago, the invincible God of war.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.?He had hoped not to have to use his final back up plan, but it was what it was, he reasoned.
As Scarlet''s machine shakily dodged a retaliatory volley from all three of the Phoenix''s weapons, Moncha began to prep his machine - ''Even if it survives the blast it''ll have to weaken it enough, just enough for the mine field and the Curadh''s main guns to finish it, surely...''
The internal lights of the cockpit all turned to red, warnings began to flash - This annoyed Moncha a bit, it seemed overly dramatic. A final big red button appeared on a touch pad in front of him;
Are You Sure - It read stupidly;
"Of course I''m sure, what did you think I was trying to do when I bypassed half your safety programming, of course I''m sure."
His hand hovered over the confirm button, he steadied his breathing - He would have ten seconds to get as close to the Phoenix as possible once pressed - And Moncha was aiming for point blank.
One last deep breath and --
"M-Jo- Y-o the---" Intruded a garbled voice, echoing around the small space.
In a moment of genuine anger Moncha slammed a fist against his armrest, "What do you want, why the hell are you in radio range, and why did you have to go breaking my concentration like that?!"
He wasn''t really angry at lieutenant Yazan of course, but it was no small feat to ready yourself to press ''that button''.
The radio growing a bit clearer, Yazan responded jovially as though simply catching up with an old friend in the pub, "Captain actually has some pretty good ideas boss, I think you should head for the co-ordinate I''m sending ya."
"You what!?" Moncha said back.
"Can''t really tell you the plan Sir, Captain also reckons that''s how the Phoenix knows the future, like mind reading - Just head for those cords, we''ve got the rest covered."
Moncha paused a moment, staring around himself - He had no weapons left, Scarlet must be minutes away from running out of fuel and he was sitting in front of comically big red self-destruct button.
Barely hesitating he put on a big grin, "Ya know what, fine! On my way lads!!"
Reverting the Self-destruct protocols Moncha re-entered the fray, firing off a ream of machine gun fire - Said gun was meant purely for small targets but it did enough to get him the Phoenix''s attention back. The majestic golden mech turned to face him as though amused by the petty attack.
Moncha licked his lips, turned the thruster output to maximum, and began to run away.
****
Everything rattled, The Beta type Casnel had been made for speed and Moncha was about to make it earn those specs. The Phoenix had taken the bait, himself that is, and to his relief Scarlet had backed off, or run out of fuel, Moncha didn''t have much time to worry about that.
The Phoenix was also fast, since the moment he had laid eyes on it he known that - But moreover it was big.
In space, an environment with no friction, size doesn''t particularly slow you down - So the Phoenix being the better part of three times the size of his Casnel, benefitted from three times or more the speed, with no weight drawbacks.
This was posing some rather serious issues for Moncha, he was having to weave in and out of rubble moving at Mach speeds, while the Phoenix simply smashed its way headfirst through the fallen detritus.
Moncha had been a fighter pilots many years ago, but now he was older and the pressure each G he gained exerted on his out of practise body was immense - And even that didn''t seem to be enough, the Phoenix was still gaining on him, running down his tiny machine like the massive bird of pray it took its name from.
On the plus side this was a sprint and he''d had the head start - A machine like the Phoenix was probably running calculations, trying to work out where Moncha would go, rather than how fast - It had patience, no need to rush, no need to use its maximum speed.
And yet still it gained on him.
Reaching down shakily, Moncha grabbed his helmet and put it on, sealing his space-suit and then diverting the life support systems to power output.
Next he made sure he was still strapped into his chair tightly as he disabled just about everything but controls and thrusters - The lights dimmed, half the screens shut off entirely - His speed edged an inch higher.
His rear-view camera and even his radar were off now - He was flying pure for the first time in years, as little assistance from the computers as possible, he couldn''t even see the Phoenix anymore, just a screen showing him the lay of the land in front - His mech moved as a bullet streaking across the nights skyline.
It happened fast, a moment passed and there it was, the co-ordinates - A husked out old battleship, a second to align himself with the open hanger doors - A second to realise there was a second opening at the end of the hanger, small and clearly made hurriedly, just barely tall enough for him to pass through - A second before he was back in open space - A second later for the Phoenix to crash straight into the battleship, crumbling and crippling the metallic walls, tearing through the ship inside out in its pursuit of him.
And then the whole thing blew up.
----
Moncha desperately held back the urge to vomit and fall unconscious in once, slamming a hand to reinstate the life support and turn off the thrusters. He collapsed into his chair, exhaustion taking over, clunks surrounded him as the Casnel began to slow down, clattering into passing debris as it did.
Finally there was a more deliberate noise as the Vijaik speical of Lieutenant Yazan caught his machine from the outside;
"Nice one Sir."
Moncha didn''t respond, his head was spinning, everything ached but just barely he manged to right himself enough to look at the results.
The ship had been rigged, its generator had gone critical an unimaginable explosion filled the space before them - His entire camera was filled with an endless white orb stretching seemingly forever - Moncha felt pretty sure if he were to look upon it unfiltered he would probably of gone blind.
"It was a nice plan, I guess by the time it knew what was happening, it wasn''t able to act." He finally said back.
A second Vijaik speical floated by and between the two they hoisted the major''s heavily damaged Casnel between them;
"There''s two Remembrance tags out there Sir, moving away from us - Should we peruse?"
''Must be Scarlet and that subordinate of hers, so they survived too huh?'' - "No, leave it be, they''ve earned that much."
Moncha continued staring at the massive ball of energy filling space, only the very edges of it showing any signs of fraying and dissipating. It had all ended so suddenly, so violently - "You, ah, You are sure it was in there right lads?"
There was a concerned murmur from his two fellows;
"Yes sir, it was right in the middle of the explosion just before the scanners all went dead from the shockwave."
"Just like that huh?"
"You don''t think it could of survived something like that?" Gemon added sullenly.
Moncha paused to give it genuine consideration, it really had all happened in an instant - "I don''t know, I really don''t - I know this though, I''m going to owe the Captain a hell of an apology."
They laughed and gradually made their way back to the Curadh. No one would dare question their loyalty to TSU-s after that day, even if the events of Phoenix were mostly covered up - The Captain would indeed expect a heck of an apology and it was far from the last time the Scarlet Scourge and Moncha would cross paths.
But as he was carried away, Moncha simply kept staring, at the incredible second sun in the sky - A platinum colour fitting of the Phoenix itself - And he wondered if the soul inside could finally be free now.
Phoenix Epilogue + 1
Epilogue
Major Moncha could hear his squamates before rounding the corner into the breakroom to see them.
1st Lieutenants Yazan, Gemon and there newest member, Petty Officer Helt.
The two middle aged pilots were in the middle of teasing the young Helt, causing Moncha to crack a fond smile. Noticing his presence, Helt turned his attention to Moncha;
"Major Sir, these two are taking me for a complete fool! They keep insisting on some mad story where the three of you fought a giant golden bird-Magi!"
Moncha grinned broadly, shooting his two wingmen a quick look;
"Aye, every word of it is true Helty, though that''s ancient history now - Long ago."
Helt pouted, clearly feeling conned but before he could protest, Moncha rose a hand to indicate they all take things more seriously for a moment;
"So listen lads, just heard from the Captain, we''re getting another new member - But this one we can''t bully like Helt - She''s a Magi, like a real high level one proper one."
Helt began complaining about always being last in the pecking order, while Yazan sidled over to Moncha''s side, whispering, "You mean a real person though right? Not a brain put into a machine of nothin'' odd like that?"
Moncha nodded, having already cleared that question up himself and a satisfied Yazan returned to his usual expression.
In the years since the Phoenix, Moncha had been frequently reminded of the day he met the golden bird, its beauty had still never been surpassed in his mind.
And he swore to himself that this time would be different - This time they wouldn''t correct the mistakes of the past, but rather make the future a better place, atleast that''s what he hoped.
End''
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It was a quant establishment - A small homely bakery, a counter to the far end, the kitchen concealed behind a partitioning wall. The rest of the narrow space filled with polite wooden tables and chairs in pairs of two and three.
It was wet outside, the rain poured down heavily - The shop was closed today, yesterday''s newspaper lay on one of the tables: ''TA431--''
The shop door opened, the calming bell above the door tingled softly - The door had been locked, it had not been forced open however, simply opened.
"Hello?" Came a feminine voice from the backroom, "Sorry must of left the door, we''re not open toda--" The voice paused as its owner poked her head into the room to see the visitor.
What stood, soaked through and dripping rain onto the floorboards beneath, standing in the very centre of the room - Was a figure dressed all in shades of black, a black poncho, black gloves, black rigger boots and most of all a blank black mask with two tinted lens where the should be.
For the first time in decades the woman felt immediate fear, she reached for her waist.
The black figure rose a gloved hand, "Ma''am I mean you no harm - It took alot to find you, I would simply speak with you."
The woman hesitated, clearly taken aback, hand resting on the hilt of her old friend. The man''s voice was concealed, he spoke through an electronic filter of some kind.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
They sat at a table for two - The woman somewhere in her thirties, with short cut silver hair under her baker''s hat and tinted contact lens concealing her eye''s true crimson colour - Had pride in her shop, so she treated the man with hospitality and laid fourth a selection of small cakes, plus a pot of tea.
She would of been lying if she denied she wasn''t also interested in whether the man would remove the mask to eat.
To her disappointment he ignored the cakes, but indeed accepted the drink, his mask simply sidling away in part to reveal his mouth. The brief glimpse she caught of his skin was old and poorly cared for.
"Well what is it you came for, other than our finest cuisine?"
"You have children now I gather, two - My congratulations."
The woman bristled, resisting the urge to pull out her pistol;
"Who are you?" She retorted, the pleasantries gone.
"Me? I am one of the dozen or so people who currently knows that you are still live and one of the half dozen who could actually find you."
"And, so what?" Her metallic arm itched, a phantom pain of sorts - Always on rainy days like this.
"Were you one, that is what I wish to know - Has this generation already passed?"
The woman looked on in confusion, the rain beat even louder against the old building - "One of what?"
"Were you a Key?!"
Silence. Laughter.
The woman couldn''t help it - All this build up for that?;
"You''re joking right, you tracked me down to ask about a fairy tale?"
"I would of thought a Magi of your level would be more aware of the powers that lurk in our world."
The man murmured darkly.
The woman frowned, "There''s no magic in this world fella, the Keys are a legend, and sure some of the people in the stories might of existed as Magi but that''s all they were, espers, psychics whatever - So ya I was once, but not part of some magic trio." She half laughed, then leaned closer;
"You''re the one I guess? Some old friends got in contact for the first time in decades, told me to be on the look out for a strange figure, asking stranger questions - You got a name?"
A long pause, "BlackBox."
She raised an eyebrow, "That''s not a name, no wait don''t tell me that''s why you''re all in black?!"
"No, the poncho just happened to be this colour." The man replied flatly.
She shrugged, "Fair enough - Well that''s all there is to it buddy, unless you want advice on cake recipes there ain''t much more this humble business owner can offer."
The man rose, laying some change down as he did - "Thank you for the tea, I have what I needed - I doubt we shall meet again, best of luck."
The woman watched him approach the door, hesitated and then gave in;
"Hey look bud, I don''t get involved anymore, not in a long, long time - But you look old and I don''t mean that to be cruel. This world is harsh and you won''t last much longer trying to cope using fairy tales - The worst that can happen is you actually meet one, you know that right?"
The man stopped but a moment, perhaps saying something under his breath, perhaps not - And then he left.
The rain continued to beat down, her mechanical arm ached, it always did on days like this, and always would.