Archive of Our Own

When Erol woke, it was under large warm fluffy blankets in the dead of Haven's winter. The sound of Lynda banging against his door non-stop like a mad angry Lurker echoes through his home and most possibly the neighbors.

"Open the fuck up, Erol!"

He closes his eyes, ignoring the crazy woman banging her fist against the reinforced steel door. Reinforced because it wasn't the first time Lynda had broken into his home using her beastly strength. The insane hybrid woman was more troublesome the stronger she got, and it came naturally with age without any need of eco; nineteen years old and the woman still refuses to hold back her strength. Eh, it doesn't matter. Once he gets back to sleep, all would be forgotten. Like a bad dream.

"I know you're in there! Your zoomer's parked outside the door!"

However, it was not meant to be. The sound of Lynda's metal cleats kicking against the steel door got him to jump and sit partially up in bed. 

"Erol!"

[Your sister calls for you.]

He plops bak down in bed. "Ignore her." His ear twitches, not used to the sound of his own deep voice. He had just hit puberty and it was aggravating him along with Lynda's loud banging. "She'll leave, eventually."

[Hm. Unwise, continue in silence, it will break again mine disciple.] In other words, it wasn't cheap to fix the reinforced steel door and it'll cost more to replace if the frame breaks.

Erol sighs, "Fine." He tosses the blanket off his body and sits up to thread his fingers through his hair. He tiredly sighs and rubs his face of sleep as he stares at the wall contemplating the universe, stalling to leave the bed.

"EROOOOOL!

He angrily swears in Hora-Vox, "Kra-eesh...I'm coming, you insane woman!"

"Fucking finally!" She bangs her fist one last time on the door. "Hurry the fuck up, I'm starving!"

Erol stands up naked and pats around his room to pick up pieces of his uniform from the floor, along with his boots he kicked off by the door and the gloves he randomly tossed into the hallway. After the last article of clothing, he walks into the bathroom and stops to stare at himself in the mirror. His red-orange hair is a mess and it gets brighter every year as it slowly creeps over to the orange spectrum without his permission. Dark circles decorating his eyes stick out against pale skin from overworking without sleep two days in a row. Most of his freckles had faded away with time but the very stubborn ones still like to play around his cheeks and wide shoulders. He then sucks his teeth at his droopy ears, immediately not liking how close they were to his shoulders.

It was the one thing he hated about his whole body, droopy ears. Many of his adopted siblings think it makes him look cute. Even the former Acolytes said his droopy ears make him look "unique", a large compliment in Hora-Quan terms. Most of their kind look exactly alike, to have something "unique" makes one very beautiful or handsome in their eyes. Erol doesn't think so. It makes him look childish and adults won't take him seriously because of it. Thank the Precursors he doesn't have to deal with pimples or he'll never hear the end of it, let alone look in the mirror ever again.

From what Mousey told him, genetically speaking, all gingers have droopy ears. It had something to do with his ancestors abusing red eco to the point its "genetic code" left multiple changes in the offspring, and inherently weighted down the ears along with making their hair red. It's also the reason why Eco Sages change according to the color of eco they mastered. Erol didn't care about all the science behind it, he just wanted his ears to look normal. Erol did discuss having surgery to fix his ears but Mousey convinced him to hold off the idea until she could think of a solution.

Thus, Mousey's most popular invention, the Ear Bracers, was born. The answer to all droopy or crooked-eared people everywhere who just want to look normal. The pair of circular metal ear devices works simply by sliding each ear through the thick metal hoops and firmly placing them at the base. With a flick of a switch, the bracers activate with a slight pinch and lift the ears, straightening out the toughened cartilage inside without permanent damage. After a few weeks and several well-funded advertisements, it became the new fashion statement and later the latest accessory for everyone in Haven and perhaps soon, the World.

Mousey became wealthy enough to start her research projects and Erol was happy. Everyone wins.

With the devices in place, Erol's ears transform into normal-looking ones. There was a slight pinch around the lower lobe but it wasn't something Erol couldn't handle. He quickly then brush his teeth while relieving himself of last night's liquids into the toilet. He suits on his uniform, feeling the navy blue and yellow fabric cling tightly to his body. Matching gloves are pulled firmly over his fingers and metal cleated boots are zipped up. He walks out to his living room and picks the discarded pieces of red armor with the Baron's insignia, connecting the leather straps to hold everything in place. He grabs his gun holster from off his coffee table, clicks the belt ends together, and finally walks out of his comfortable home into the aching cold that is Haven City.

Lynda leans against her vehicle with a smug grin, "Morning princess!" She taps the three-seated zoomer behind her. "I brought the carpool!"

Its custom painted red and white decal shines ungodly bright against the dark grey metal background, making Erol rub his eyes in pain from the sharp contrast. He groans out, "Besides waking me up an hour early wanting breakfast, what's got you so excited?" He walks down the steps on his porch, sending her a slight glare of warning that he will be the one driving.

Lynda takes the left side of the passenger seat and kicks her feet up on the board, "You won't believe who I ran into yesterday."

He sarcastically replies, "Let me guess...another married man you whisked away from his wife in the middle of their date night." He hops into the driver's seat and starts the vehicle up. "Perhaps she joined in." He turns the key in the ignition and starts the vehicle.

"Ha! You wish." Lynda doesn't flinch when Erol suddenly shifts the vehicle into the upper hover zone with a hard jerk. She grins, "Remember Private Smokes?"

"Who?" Erol pulls the vehicle into traffic, obeying the speed laws as he didn't feel fully awake yet.

Lynda rolls her eyes, "Remember the guy you stole cigs from? The one that chased us around back at the orphanage?"

Orphanage. The way Lynda said it gave Erol a pause, a mix of pain hidden underneath sarcastic humor. It was a pain Erol knew well as all the children from the orphanage did. Calling that place an "orphanage" was better than calling it that than what it truly was, the prison medical facility. An orphanage was a better way to think they were abandoned children by uncaring parents than victims sacrificed by a religious cult. It was a better way to remember the place as something that united them together. Better to forget the needles, strapped tables, and disgusting medicine which at times gave them nightmares. It was better to cope thinking the science lab training the next generation of children into eco-powerhouse super soldiers was a competitive training ground for eco-channelers looking to strut their stuff. "Orphanage" was a way to forget all the pain and the Baron's cruel punishments, recalling only the smiling fun times and experiences. It served as tiny light you could only stare at in very deep darkness.

Filtering in certain memories of the orphanage, Erol tries to put a face to this "Private Smokes" Lynda was talking about.

[Red hair male falls on green hair female.] Lore helpfully reminded him.

Erol laughs, "Private Smokes!" He grins at her while still keeping his eyes on traffic, "Now I remember. He bashed into the nurse and got his ass chewed out by the Superior."

"Yeah, him. Turns out Private Smokes is now a Sergeant First Class with superior sniper skills and..." she licks her lips, "...we fucked."

He scoffs, "Not surprising, given your bad habits."

She lets out a playful, "Ah-ah." Then pulls her legs off the dash and leans all the way forward with one leg dangerously dangling off the side. She smirks, "I haven't told you the best part. He didn't recognize me."

He blinks, "He didn't recognize you? At all?" Surprising, since Lynda wasn't exactly someone you could forget. She is a hybrid after all with long beige hair, pale skin, bright piercing yellow-red eyes, larger than normal canines, and pointy ears that are far sorter than average. Compared to back then, she grew as any teenage girl would in becoming a young woman, with larger breasts and wider hips. Sure, she's way taller now. Six foot two to be exact and still growing with muscles packed enough to manhandle anyone that stands in her way but her face never changed.

"Nope. You should've seen him, too. He filled out nicely. Sharp cheekbones. Strong jaw line. Piercing blue eyes. Lots of hair to grip on. Eeh," she tilts her hand from side to side, "a bit skinny but man his voice..." she swoons, "...perfect smokey bedroom voice. Ugh!" She visibly shivers in excitement. "I don't mind taking that car out for another drive. Vroom! Vrrrrroooom!"

Erol shook his head at it all with a twitch of a smile.

"Oh, and before I forget." Lynda pulls out a pack of cigarettes with a sinister smirk.

Erol glances at the carton and laughs, "No, you did not just steal his cigarettes."

"Old habits die hard." She takes out a stick and fits it between her lips. "I'm sure he'll remember me once I give it back."

He rolls his eyes again, knowing she'll smoke all but one cigarette in that box before handing it back to the man. It was Lynda's way of flirting, taking something to only leave a small bit behind as something to remember her. Funny enough, they always come back for more. Either because they like her as a person or they were those types of perverts that like a large woman "stepping on them" or to "get pegged". Erol never understood the idea and it never interested him. Lynda did say he was the type to get off by entertaining and comforting others, which was why he hasn't found someone already. Whatever "entertaining and comforting others" means...All he knows is that he isn't interested in sex, especially not with the first person he looks at. No offense to his older sister, Lynda.

She puffs her first cigarette, pocketing the old-fashioned flip lighter. "Have you heard from the others?"

"No, just Chaz keeps getting sewer jobs for some reason. Which makes Yarn and Lace stuck on scouting duty."

"Poor guys. They'll keep getting shit end jobs if they don't man the fuck up already."

"I think it's more of the King's fault. He refuses to put turrets up in the sewers and suggests reinforcing the walls. Until the Baron finally gets the King to change his tune, Chaz's team is clearing out the Metal Heads on a daily."

She swings her arm out, conveying towards the city walls, "They're hundred-foot tall metal walls with security hatches that's tough enough to keep even me trapped." She huffs, "How much stronger can they get?"

"Don't know, but the King clearly knows something."

"Ch'yeah?" She kicks her feet up back on the dash. "And all the Mar family secrets ain't one of them?"

Erol chuckles, "Yeah, I guess you're right." It's universal knowledge only the descendants of Mar know their family's many secrets lie hidden in the city and then some. Not even King Damas shared his knowledge of the rumored Mar's Tomb and the light tower that reveals its location. And who were they, a bunch of kids, to question the city's founders and protectors? Nobodies, and it shone in the King's eyes when he last left them in the orphanage.

Feeling a bit more awake, Erol cuts through the heavy traffic in the Main City District with speed and precision, hopping between lower and higher hover zones without so much as scraping the carpool against another vehicle or accidentally sending someone flying by bashing them with the front bumper. He leaves the Main City District into the Main District, manually switching hover zones to keep between the pedestrians below and the traffic above. Once he sights the water, he dives the carpool under the bridge and speeds forward without restriction. He drives at full speed following the canal halfway up to Mar Memorial Stadium and then switching hover zones again nearly clipping the metal canal wall as they make their way out of the Main District. From there, it doesn't take long to enter the slums. He manually switches between hover zones again to cut through the traffic and speeds his way through into the Temple District. Here, he slows down and obeys traffic laws.

Lynda smiles, loving the joyride of speeding through the city. "Still got it, kiddo." 

Erol angrily glances at her with a raised eyebrow, "I know you're not talking."

She frowns, "What?"

"You act more like a kid than I do and I pay more than half your bills." He full-on glares at her, "The only reason we don't live under the same roof is because I enjoy my privacy and don't want to hear you entering in the middle of night sucking faces with some sap you met at Krew's bar."

"Geez, just take the fucking compliment."

"The kiddo part is what made it an insult, Lyn."

She sucks in a deep breath, exhales, and lets out a calm, "Sorry."

"Forgiven." He pulls the carpool away from traffic and enters the main road leading up to an old ancient run-down wooden hut up on a lone pillar in the middle of the water. "If I'm right, Mousey should still be here." He parks next to a tall building with a sign saying "Sacred Site Museum" with a flipped sign in the window showing "Closed". He digs through his pockets, searching for his comm.

"You know if we hadn't known Mousey before you think she'd make the perfect daughter for the old man."

"That old man is the Green Sage, Samos." He finds his comm, turns on the device, and scrolls through his list of contacts. "If it wasn't for him, De'tra would've died."

"If it wasn't for him, De'tra would've never needed to go to Haven Forest in the first fucking place." She sucks at the last of her cigarette before tossing it far off to the side. "I would've burned the whole place down if the Baron hadn't given the order to listen to the old creep."

"He's not a creep."

"The guy has a bird egg and a big ass log in his moss-covered afro. He walks on large ass wooden stumps with skinny twig legs but fat ass fucking feet. His skin is green. By the Precursors-! He's literally from the seventies. No one's that old!"

Erol raises a brow and looks at her, "Compared to us?"

"I'm speaking in general. Besides, at least we are with the times."

"Yes, Lyn, we have eons of experiences trapped within our minds that's gotten with the times."

[Bitchin'.]

Erol grins at that. On his comm, he selects Mousey's contact line, watches as it orbits around him while increasing in size, and talks to the floating device, "Mousey, are you there? We're here to pick you up."

"Mmm...hm? What time is it?"

"Quarter til oh nine hundred."

"Ugh." She yawns. "I'll be down in ten."

The comm turns off and shrinks down back to handheld size. Erol tucks it away, leans back against the seat with arms crossed, and kicks up his feet above the driver's steering wheel. He says with a sigh, "You're rubbing off on me." He hears Lynda lighting up another cigarette. "It's horrible."

"But it's fun, and you love it."

[Mimicry, it gives comfort as does it mock, yet creates bonds both which share.]

Lynda exhales, "You think getting with the times helps you speak a little more normal."

[Perhaps one needs to lead by example first.]

Erol smirks, "You upset Lo're."

"Wow, two in one go, huh." She inhales her stolen cigarette, "You guys get real touchy for the oddest things, ya know."

"I'm surprised they still talk to you."

"Sha'rel gets bored easily, so all the crap I do entertains her."

Erol blinks, "Her?"

"Yeah, met this random cross-dressing douche bag that kept harping on me about being a closed-minded cis-gender or whatever. I was drunk and didn't give a shit, so I smack'em." She swings her hand in a slapping motion, "Wha-bam! Fell over on their ass and broke the table with their legs dangling in the air. Skirt flipped and everything, everyone was laughing. After I got kicked out and fined for all the drinks and shit, Sha'rel and I had this long awkward talk about genders and shit. Then I come to learn all Hora-Quans are girls because colonized species and science and shit and only a few hand fulls are boys that get the queenies pregnant. Then they end up dying somewhere cuz they fulfilled their duty of sticking it in."

Erol looks confusingly up to the sky, "Lo're?"

[It differs amongst planets. Not all are same, rules change by both Enslaver and Liberator's will. We were once machines, a hive-mind unified to obey. Our freedom gives us choice and think as individuals. No longer hive-mind. No longer machines. No longer slaves.]

"So...you don't have, uh, parts down there?"

[My design is not alike of those here. Ah'na-kee. My kind need only eco to create and nurse young. We do not carry to term or lay eggs.]

"Oh."

A few more minutes pass and the door to the museum opens. Mousey walks out fully suited in uniform stretching out her arms in the doorway with a teary yawn. She fixes her large circle glasses strapped on her face by lowering the left side down and pulls the door closed behind her. Walking up to the carpool, she redoes her blue ponytail into a professional tight bun. She gets in the vehicle and gives a prompt "morning" before yawning again.

Erol kicks off his feet from over the wheel and starts the vehicle.

Lynda leans over the center rest and smiles, "Mousey, baby, talk me. What'cha got going on?"

"For starters," she comfortably leans back in her seat, "I'm finally making progress on eco-gene splicing. Metaphorically speaking, of course, because I know you two won't understand half the terminologies relating to Eco Theory and Photon-physics. With some time, possibly years, likely less than a decade with the right funds, I can start cloning traces of eco. Production is still out of reach because the necessary Precursor artifacts require a lot of communing with all ecos at once. This means there's no way we can separate the Acolytes from ourselves without someone else undergoing a full mutation. A one for one, meaning only six of us will be okay and the others will permanently be stuck. However, it's possible I can bypass this by re-enacting the ceremonial rebirth we underwent and sample the Metal Head eggs' reaction to dark eco. I can substitute a kanga rat in place of a human eco-channeler medium. Without the Acolytes, it should result in the creation of false bodies. That's if they come out stable. Once I obtain enough data, both from eco-gene splicing and false body experimentations, I can theoretically create Hora-Quan homunculi -by that I mean very, very small bodies- for the Acolytes to accommodate. It's the separation that makes it all troubling. There needs to be an empty medium for the transference, like...a super-strong eco crystal that had at least enough energy to blow up the whole city and maybe more."

Erol glances over his shoulder with a sarcastic smile, "Or an extremely powerful eco-channeler like Mar who can imprison twelve powerful Acolytes at the same time."

"Yeah, or that." Mousey distractedly looks out across the Temple District, admiring the tall temple-like buildings filling the horizon.

Lynda huffs, "I don't think king Damas or his upcoming rug rat has that kind of power. And that's a-big-motherfucking if he feels like it."

Erol makes a turn back to the slums. "What do you guys feel like eating?"

"Pizza," Lynda declared.

"Noodles," Mousey answered.

"Nah-uh. Noodles is expensive and most of it is just water. Pizza."

"No. Pizza doesn't meet the daily nutritional value and it's greasy. Noodles."

Erol gives a loud sigh while the girls quickly turn on each other, "Why did I even ask?"

[You consider them above your own desires.]

"It was rhetorical." 

Lynda glares at Mousey, "Pizza."

Mousey glares back, "Noodles."

"Pizza!"

"Noodles!"

Erol growls out, "We're getting omelets! And-if-I-hear-another word I'm turning this zoomer around and no one gets to eat!"

That silences them both up with a pout. It wouldn't be the first time Erol had carried out his threat as promised. The worst was when both girls were tossed out of the zoomer in the middle of a heavy rainstorm. Erol had gotten tired of them arguing about if soup was food or a drink. He warned them three times and when they didn't stop, Erol with a surge of red eco heaved Lynda out by her collar and shoved Mousey with one arm. Surprised, they both fell into a deep muddy puddle with a rough landing. He then took off, shouting "walk home by yourselves" as red tail lights disappear into the thick fog. The girls stood side-to-side with gaping mouths in disbelief, forced to walk back home in the middle of the rainstorm while dropped off at Precursors-knew-where. The next day, they were bedridden with high fevers and in Erol's far-less-than-tender care.

Once Erol makes a threat, it's always best to do as he says.

They make their way out of the slums and south towards the East Bazaar. The Bazaar was always the go-to place for a good grab to eat, more so in the East section as the district lines up with homes from slums up north, the industrial district further south, and the Palace directly west. They were many people there, loud voices carry up and above the traffic as shop owners advertise their own goods and many customers socialize while going about their business. It was places like these that makes Haven City feel alive and forget they were ever in the middle of a war.

Erol pulls out of traffic and parks the carpool next to the anti-vehicle checks just next to the highway that goes over the entire district, leading out on the other side next to the Palace. He hops out with keys in hand and leads the way into the Bazaar. It takes them a while to reach their destination, the place so pact Erol had to squeeze between two crowds of people before finally seeing the familiar "Breakfast and ine" neon sign above the hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The "D-" part of the neon sign wasn't lit and tilted awkwardly to the side. They take their seat at a small outdoor table and ordered their food of five omelets, one for both Erol and Mousey and three for Lynda. Once the waiter leaves, Lynda nonchalantly kicks her feet up on Erol's lap.

"Seriously?" He gives her a slight glare.

She smirks with a newly lit cigarette in her mouth, "It's you or the table, sweetheart."

Erol lets it go with a shake of his head, happier it was him and not the table. Who knows where Lynda's boots have been? From every bar she tends to visit and gets kicked out of, it wouldn't be a surprise if he suddenly gets sick from skin-to-boot contact. Not to mention her fuck-buddies and one-night stands...

Gross.

Erol forgets about ever thinking that and counts his blessing which was his full body uniform. 

Not one for being quiet, Lynda starts off a conversation with the first question that comes to mind, "Have you guys noticed our hair getting a little...orange?"

Mousey and Erol share a look before turning to Lynda. Mousey tilts her head, "What do you mean?"

Lynda points to her hair, "Yours got browner. Blue and orange makes brown." She points at Erol, "His is clearly getting brighter." Then she points to her own hair, "Mines getting redder. All of our hair is getting oranger by the year."

"Oranger isn't a word, Lyn. But...I see where you're going with this. Maybe, and this is a very hypothetical maybe, the Precursors' 'genetic code' is awakening inside us."

Lynda frowns, "I was hoping for something more positive, Mousey. Not that we're turning into rats."

Mousey gives her an unimpressed look, "We're obviously not turning into rats. I meant dominant genetic traits within the eco are becoming apparent. I have taken notice of other physical traits such as body ratio and athletic prowess."

"Body ratio?" Erol questioned.

"Human body ratio averages around one by two to a zero point two and zero point..." she pauses at the confused looks on their faces, "...let me start over. Human anatomy as two-legged creatures allows us to stand upright with the head aligned with the feet. This is possible because our arms are very light, our legs are long, and our lower body bones are thicker compared to most species. Our bodies are longer with denser muscles. If you tried walking around on hands and feet you'll see our spines will be almost perfectly aligned horizontally."

Lynda exhales smoke, "Huh? Yeah, I did kinda notice that. My ass was usually higher than my head."

They give her an odd look.

"What?" Then she rolls her eyes, "Please, like you guys don't know about fetishes."

Erol smirks, "We have you to thank for that, Lyn."

Mousey sighs, "You forget we are fourteen."

"Pft, Whatever. You harp on me now but just you wait, you both'll be doing more freaky stuff than I do on a constant."

Mousey slyly smiles, "I don't think anyone can beat your flut flut suit, Lyn."

Erol quickly covers his mouth, trying not to laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" Lynda jabs her cigarette at him, "You're the freakiest one here."

Erol lowers his hand with a smirk, "With what proof?"

"Well, for starters," Lynda grins and playfully plants the cigarette between her teeth, "you don't masturbate."

Erol rolls his eyes, "Yeah, because I'm fourteen."

"No, because you like attention. You won't even so much touch Erol junior down there unless you have someone watchin'. That and ya won't get inta the mood without someone else. A very special someone else."

Erol looks at her skeptically, "Like whatever 'entertain and comfort' mean."

"Exactly."

"You're full of shit, Lyn."

"I would be..." then she suddenly shouts towards the restaurant, "If I had some fucking food! What the fuck is taking so long?! I'm starving over here! We ordered omelets! Omelets! Not goddamned grill-housed steaks, assholes!" She angrily smokes her cigarette.

"Great, now they might spit in our food." Erol sarcastically smiles at her, "Thanks, Lyn."

She returns the smile, "You're welcome, Arul."

Erol frowns. 

The waiter quickly comes by with their food and set down five plates of omelets. "So sorry for that. We're short on staff today. If you like, we offer free drinks."

"Beer."

"No," Erol glares at Lynda, "coffee, water, or juice."

"Fuck you're such a party pooper."

"You're not getting drunk on the job, Lyn."

Mousey holds up her hand, "Do you have tea?"

"Yes, we do."

"Then I'll have that. No sugar, and thank you."

The waiter writes down the order, "Anything else?"

Lynda puts out the cigarette by dabbing the end on her tongue. "I'm not drinking piss water."

The waiter was lost, "Huh?"

Erol jumps in, "She'll have the strongest coffee you have and I'll like the water."

"Coffee and water." He wrote down. "I'll be right back with those drinks." He quickly makes his way back.

The three eat in silence, stuffing their faces with omelets. When the waiter came back with their drinks only Mousey gives the waiter a quick "Thank you" before he left. Though with three omelets, Lynda was the first to finish in record time. She went back to smoking, relighting the cigarette with her old-fashioned flip lighter. Erol was next to finish, wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking out his comm to look for the Baron's line. Once Mousey had finished, wiping her mouth and placing the fork upside down on the plate, Erol made the call.

"This is Private Erol of Team Alpha. Awaiting orders, sir."

"Private," the Baron's voice grumbles, "you are to rendezvous with Team Charlie in Haven Forest. They will debrief you."

The comm shuts off.

Lynda scoffs, removing her feet off of Erol's lap, commenting, "Don't that sound ominous."

"Agreed." Erol stands up with a bit of difficulty, his legs feeling a bit numb. He toughens it out and starts to walk, "Haven forest usually means Metal Heads."

"Like it can be anything else."

Erol frowns at that, wondering if it could be something else. But what? He couldn't think of an answer. Instead, he marches forward with orders in mind.

Just as the Baron had trained them, to be the ideal soldiers.

The drive to the Gardens District, more specifically the Agricultural sector, took more necessary time as the traffic leaving the Bazaar district moved at a jelly snail's pace. With the carpool parked, Team Alpha makes their way up the ramp and into the security hatch. The large mechanical steel reinforced door clicks and whirl open, welcoming them inside an enclosed room. They walk inside and stop to stand in the middle of the room. The security door behind them closes, the loud gears move with an eerie clicking sound inside the enclosed space. The second large security door leading outside the safety of the city walls doesn't open until the one leading back into the city shuts firmly tight, the metal having a much sharper sound as it begins to open.

"I always hate this." Lynda off-handedly commented. Her impatience is shown by how she roughly tosses down her cigarette and snuffs it out by grinding her metal cleats on top of it. 

"Weapons out and safeties off." Erol takes his pistol into his left hand, "Keep eyes out for friendlies."

Mousey pulls out her precursor fighting staff from her waist, whipping the short stick into a long scepter. Orbs tucked into the side come out floating around the top end, orbiting around the large clear gem.

Lynda yanks out her morph gun, immediately switching to scatter gun mode from vulcan fury. 

The door slides open and the city's artificial intelligence notifies them, "Leaving city at your own risk."

"No shit." Lynda struts out of the small room flanking their team leader's right. She glances at Mousey falling into step on the left, her staff gripped tightly in her small hands. 

With Erol leading the way, the team easily march their way through the thick greenery. Amber eyes scan their surroundings and wonder where Team Charlie may have headed. 

[I sense Gwyr. They are not far. Ghk'ta.]

Ghk'ta. A very nice and convenient way to say "down towards the right" in Hora-Vox. Erol walks right to the very edge of the cliff. He stops and looks down. Below the steep edge is a large river separating the main forest from the Precursor ruins. Squinting his eyes, Erol can spot three people hanging out by the mouth of the ruins. Mouth because you can't really call the enormous archways "doors" when there are twelve more like it all around. It is to say, to Erol, Precursor ruins were just a bunch of glorified golden orange metal gazebos mashed together to look "unique" and "important". He knows it's just for aesthetic purposes and to fool the people into thinking the Precursors were large powerful beings and not two-foot-tall rats.

Lore has said the most honest structures were lived-in homes, and the ruins were anything but a house.

Mousey waves her staff, the floating orbs change orbiting patterns and the gem glows a bright blue. She points the end at the three down below and shoots out a small bit of blue eco. The energy flutters down in circular patterns, catching the attention of those below. It hits the ground by their feet and softly burst into pretty blue tiny lights. The ones below flash a green light twice before flashing yellow. It was code for "all safe" and "possible enemies".

Erol frowns and looks to his teammates, "They haven't run into any Metal Heads?"

Mousey comments, "They've been showing higher signs of intelligence as of late. It's possible the Metal Head leader is involved and we're falling for a trap."

Erol doesn't like it and it shows on his face. 

"So what now oh fearless leader?"

He watches as Lynda rests her scatter shot on her shoulder and places a hand on her hip. She was feeling just as nervous as them and when she's nervous she's annoyed. A tick she developed after being raped after countless times. The feeling of weakness will always make her angry and the creeping nervousness was stirring up that coming anxiety. Putting them to action will ease that feeling but it could also endanger them.

Erol looks out to the forest, "Any advice?"

[Rely on your weakness to guide you and make it your strength. Be vigilant and tread carefully mine disciple as I fear your sister may be correct.]

The three share a look. It was clear they all received similar words of wisdom from their Hora-Quans. 

"Let's move out." Erol walks forward, leading his team to rendezvous with Team Charlie down below.

Heavy boots drag through mud and tangles with tall grass, slowing down their pace the closer they reach the bottom. A few times they had to leap over large gaps, jumping from one oddly placed precursor pillar to another. When they reached the river, they wash out whatever mud was left on their boots before walking onto the precursor bridge; from past experiences, mud and precursor metal never mixed and would cause any friction to feel like stepping on squishy slime, slippery. The moment they cross the bridge, Gwyr walks up to happily greet them.

He grins with hands on his hips, "Well aren't you guys a sight for sore eyes!"

Lynda grins, "Sup, Mister Beef-caaaake!" She punches his shoulder.

"Lyn, the same as ever."

Mousey waves, "Hi, Gwyr. It's been a while. You look good."

"Same to you, Mousey."

Erol stops before him, "Report and debrief."

Gwyr raises a brow, "Really? It's been almost a year, Erol."

[He speaks truth. A short moment can be worth a lifetime once ingrain into memory.]

Erol remains silent, taking in Gwyr as he stands with pride. He's only fifteen but his brother was standing a near six feet tall with thick muscles bulging from underneath the tight uniform, especially in the arms and legs. The pieces of armor look dwarfed on his body like slapped on sheets of red metal covering about two-thirds of his person. His eyes have changed since the orphanage, no longer the wide-eyed innocence but a piercing dark blue with warmth and kindness underneath. His short blonde hair is now obviously orange, or yellow-orange depending on the light. There are creases in between his brows, permanently marked by all the hardships he had to endure. 

Then there is the scar, stark against pale skin. A bright thick red mark travels cleanly down from his right temple to the left of his cheek. A mark meant for Erol's life but taken by his brave older brother by jumping in between him and his attacker. A piece of history carved into his brother's face, always reminding him who his true family will be.

Erol sighs, dropping the military posture. He holsters his gun and walks up to give his brother the largest hug he could muster. "It's not the same without you."

Gwyr laughs and hugs back, "What, Lynda and Mousey aren't enough?"

He leans out of the hug and playfully elbows him, "You know what I mean, jerk."

They all walk together, their group almost whole once again.

Gwyr asks, "You guys seen De'tra?"

Lynda answers, "Not since she was hospitalized that one time."

"I saw her last week. We crossed paths at the port during an escort mission." He looks over his shoulder towards Mousey, "Have you noticed our hair turning orange?"

The other three laugh.

"What?"

Erol smirks at him, "We had that talk during breakfast."

"Pizza or noodles?"

Erol rolls his eyes with a shake of his head, "Omelets."

Gwyr lets out a throaty laugh.

Standing by the mouth of the precursor structure were Frost and Gil. Or Erol thinks that is Gil. It clearly was her because she's always been assigned to Gwyr's team but just seeing her awakens the little voice in the back of his head saying he just couldn't tell them apart.

Since the orphanage, both twins had always been shorter than Erol but surprisingly were five years older. Mousey said was the result of severe malnutrition and starvation. Again to Erol's surprise, it wasn't because of horrible parents or bad living conditions but of a genetic condition that made the twins unable to digest food. They had loving parents who cared and nurtured them with all their hearts, burning funds and life savings to keep them alive. Their involvement with the Hora-Quan cult was the promise of better living conditions and financial support. Although their family was given everything, the twins' condition had gotten worse to the point their bodies were rejecting all kinds of minerals. To Erol's assumption, the ceremonial rebirth was a last-ditch effort to save their lives.

Now, the two can eat to their hearts' content but at a cost of their parents' lives.

Frost, out of everyone, was the one who had changed the most. With the Baron wanting perfect soldiers Frost and Kym had it the worst as their bad talking habits were "stressed" out of them. He was forced to undergo treatments, experimental psychological tests that would render both him and Kym silent. The Baron was happy with the result but it quickly backfired when both Frost and Kym started losing their minds. Gradually, the suppressed emotions had made them burst and killed anyone who'd angered them. While Kym developed schizophrenia, Frost went on a warpath and slaughtered thirty soldiers in one night with severe signs of PTSD. The doctors realized their mistake and quickly brought in several psychologists to ease their madness.

The Frost Erol see before him had truly changed since then. An innocent youth who loved playing video games and eating snacks on the constant became a tall lean young man who broods in silence and speaks only Hora-Vox. Once they had left the orphanage, Frost had dyed his shoulder-length frost white hair to ebony black and shaved off his eyebrows. His once cool grey eyes glow a bright blue with the continuous channeling of blue eco throughout his whole body, keeping his mind sane. The bottom edges of his ears were professionally cut into neat unnatural patterns, each taking a look of a serrated-edged knife with a sharp hook on the end. Tattoos peaks from underneath his uniform almost reaching the back of his ears.

The piercings, however, were new.

Lynda noticed them, too, "Hey! I thought we couldn't have piercings!? The fuck's up with that?!" She quickly walks up to the teen and glares at the shiny accessories all over the shorter teen's face.

Frost pulls off his nose ring, "Ra'ah-ke ro'gra'oh."

Erol raises a brow at that, "Clip-ons?"

Lynda snatches the nose ring and observes it, "Plastic clip-ons." She hands it back, "I guess there ain't a word for 'plastic'?"

Frost shakes his head.

"Does da Baron know?"

Gil huffs, "If you call silent glarin' an' walkin' away, knowin'. Then yeah, he knows."

She punches Frost on the arm, "Lucky bastard."

He gives her a toothy smirk, smug.

Gwyr steps up to gain all their attention, "Now everyone's here, let's get started." He straightens his posture and talks in a more serious tone. "Our task is to safely retrieve a run-away. The target is an eight-month pregnant noblewoman. V-I-P status, nothing must happen to her. By the Baron's record, she's also an eco-channeler."

Lynda jokes, "A rebel, preggers, and special. Like the lady already."

"Yeah, well, she might not like anyone so don't let your guard down. Once we have the target secured, one person must remain at her side at all times carrying around this beacon." He holds a circular piece of metal.

Mousey's eyes narrow at the beacon, "That's a precursor locator beacon." She tilts her head in concern, "Why would the Baron have us use that and not a regular one?"

Gwyr lowers the device, "Because this is a spec-ops mission. From here on out, everything we do and say never existed."

Erol crosses his arms, "If this is a spec-ops mission, why isn't there more teams assigned?" 

"It's the Baron's order to not include Teams Bravo and Delta by any means." He looks at them all, "It's just us."

Lynda sucks her teeth, "Piece of shit. Doesn't he know if we get swarmed by Metals we can't get out without emergency evac? This is a death trap."

"It's a heavily loaded stealth mission, Lyn." He indicates toward the black backpacks, "We have ammunition, spare primary and secondary weapons, grenades, three deployable sentries, five deployable shields, twelve health packs, eco crystals of each kind, MREs, water canteens, and a thermos for our VIP in case she's hungry."

"Great. We're stuck eating muck while she gets actual food."

He ignores her comment and continues, "Erol will take command during this mission..."

"No surprise there."

"...and Lynda will take second-in-command."

"What a- Woah, wait!" She shapes a 'T' with her hands, "Time the fuck out! Why am I second-in-command!? Ain't it usually you?"

Gwyr smacks his lips with a sigh, "Show of hands of those who know about female pregnancy."

Lynda raises her hand. She looks around, seeing if the others would too, but finds herself alone. "You guys fuckin' serious right now?"

Erol, "Uh, I'm fourteen."

Gil, "I hate snot-nosed-brats."

Frost, "Ahn'sha kree. Rohk'gro." He taps his head.

Lynda then looks to her left, "Mousey?"

She scrunches up her shoulders to her ears with a guilty look, "Sorry, but sexual reproduction doesn't interest me as much as eco."

Gwyr grins at her, "You're the only one Lynda, sorry."

She drops her hand with a loud slap against her leg and glares at Gwyr, "You don't look fucking sorry."

He shrugs.

[Perhaps we should acquire such knowledge mine disciple. It interests me, your kind's methods of creation.]

His face scrunches up with suspicion, "Why?" He walks over to the bags and opens each one to check their inventory before closing them back up.

[There are times primitive needs lead to false impression. Myself has yet to understand the urge-]

"Stop! Stop right there! Not another word." Erol shakes his head, "Nu-uh. Nope."

[Hm. I sense great discomfort. Perhaps another time.]

Erol stands up and shoves the two heaviest bags off to the side. With a breath his demeanor changes, amber eyes hardened and shoulders squared, Erol takes on the acting role of leader.

His voice barks out with stern commands, "Listen up! I'm assigning your duties so don't make me repeat myself. We're taking turtle formation. Gwyr, you're on vanguard. Lynda and Frost take the rear. Mousey takes center. Gil and I will flank. There are five bags in total. Lynda will take the heaviest two. Mousey will carry ammunition and weapons. Gil and I will carry the last two. We're on a unknown time limit so there won't be any breaks until nightfall. Our mission is to search, secure, and rescue our V-I-P. Details, a eight-month pregnant eco-channeler with an unknown background. Once the target is secured, Lynda will activate the beacon and trade-off positions with Mousey. Gwyr, you will be taking her bags when this happens. Keep in mind Lynda will stay on target at all times. The extraction point will be right on the beacon. It might get sketchy so keep your eyes peeled. If you get lost or separated find a hole and stay alive. Sorry to say, rescue won't come until the mission is over and it isn't over until we return with the target and report to Commander Praxis. Understood?!"

"Yes, sir!"

"This is a special operation, code black, if you see someone or something that isn't the target or us, shoot on sight." He picks up the closest bag and hikes it up on his shoulders, "Let's move out!"

Everyone follows as their leader had ordered and moves in formation through the forest.

The march through the forest was a silent hike through Haven's finest greenery. Grass and ferns litter the ground, painting the earth green. Sometimes there are patches of brown with either dead leaves or moist earth acting as a path. Mushrooms accommodate cavities between rocks and tree roots, and at times carcasses sunk halfway into the bed of green. Rivers and streams send out the sweetest sound, relaxing to the ears as it all sends a brisk sensation to the mind. Flowers begin to bloom and butterflies flutter around impatient for its nectar. Tall trees tower over their heads with their lowest branches impossible to reach and a canopy that almost blocks out the morning sky. The sun above beams down rays of light, playing with the colors of the world along with shadows. Sounds of nature's many creatures surround them, a heavy reminder that they are never alone. And far above it all are birds, flying in the sky.

It's easy to fall into a safe sense of security here in Haven Forest. As time passes, breathing becomes easier as air reaches far deep into the lungs. The scent of damp moss, tree trunks, and flowers calm the mind with its inviting fragrance. The rising heat ebbs off the winter cold into a slumber-like comfort. Without the loud sounds of the city and the reflection of harsh metal, eyes and ears feel at rest. From it all, Erol feels like he's breathing for the first time.

At peace.

However, at peace, it was dangerous to let his guard down, especially while on a mission. While nature is beautiful it has its own hand of being deceitful. It may feel safe around the tree trunks but anything can be hiding in the underbrush ready to strike for a kill. Pretty flowers and animals can be toxic to the body with the slightest touch. What can be smelled sweet can be poisonous to breathe in. Large sturdy rocks can give out by just stepping on them and the high earthy wall could crumble at any time. Just as a lapse of judgment can cost a life so can a relaxed empty mind. Not to mention all rumors and superstitions that occur around Precursor structures, anything can happen in Haven Forest.

Anything.

They come up to another Precursor structure, isolated and alone further into Haven Forest.

Mousey tilts her head, "That's not right."

Erol glances at her, "Can you specify?"

"There was a tower here not a whole building."

Erol holds up his fist, signaling all to stop, "Halt. Continue, Mousey." 

"In this area of the forest, there's a waterfall north from us with a river leading southeast. On the bank was a small tower about three stories high. The whole building...it's new."

Gwyr looks at Erol over his shoulder, "Should we check it out?"

He takes in the golden orange building, amber eyes mapping out the structure the longer he looks at it. Unlike most of the ruins, this one had an actual door with stairs leading up inside the place. Unfortunately, he couldn't see the inside from his angle. He can see the earth around the building had been disturbed as fresh earth piles up all around the edges, torn away from green patches. Mousey was right about the building being new but it's a mystery as to why. What's it really doing here? 

"We'll investigate but remember our mission comes first. If she's not there, we're moving on." He swings his arm out, "Move out!"

They march downhill, getting closer to the building. Once his eyes align with the door and could see the inside, he gapes at the giant statue with glowing rainbow eyes. "Lo're, what is that?" The sound of metal cleats against precursor metal gives off a weird 'tong' sound with every step.

[It is what humans call, Oracle. Machines created by the Liberators to aid heroes throughout time.]

"A hero? Here?" Erol quickly looks around, scanning the whole area for another person. From the corners of his eyes, he can see the others doing the same with tense fear on their faces. No doubt their Hora-Quans warned them of the same danger.

From Lore's tales of his past, heroes were no joke. They were powerful time-traveling eco-channelers chosen by the Precursors with decades of battle experience. It remains in question if the time-traveler could commune with eco because if they did Erol and his people are fucked. 

[This machine is different from those I seen.]

"Different?" He looks at the statue, allowing Lore a better look.

[All Oracles have purpose. Designs speak of purpose. This one tells of creation.]

"Creation of what?"

[I do not know.]

"Hey, Erol," Gil jerks her head to the side, "there's someone here. In the corner."

Erol follows Gil's line of sight and spots a cloaked figure crouched against a pillar to their right before the large oracle. "Lynda, go."

She breaks off from the group and jogs ahead. It takes a while for her to reach the cloaked figure, the large structure deceiving their viewpoint perspective believing the place is much smaller. She slows to a walk, takes in the person, and shouts, "It's her!" Lynda then squats down in front of the woman, "She doesn't look so hot!"

They all break off into a sprint, racing across the large building to reach the woman.

"What's wrong?" He stops next to her, careful not to trip over the bags she dropped. 

"She's sweating up a storm." Lynda lays her hand over her forehead, "A high fever probably."

"No..." Mousey quickly steps up to crouch next to the woman, "She's suffering from eco hyperstimulation. Side effects are nonstop sweating from overheating, loss of bodily liquids, headaches, exhaustion, difficulty breathing, blood clots, vomiting, kidney failure, and an extremely low probability of death."

"Shit!" Lynda holsters her gun and quickly starts to undress the woman, "Help me, Mousey! If we don't fix her the baby's gonna die!" 

She quickly shrinks her staff and tucks it back on her waist. With hands-free, she helps undress the woman, "We have to cool down her body temperature first and message red eco into her heart to stabilize the blood flow. Keep from using blue eco. We'll save light eco for last in case of emergencies."

Erol takes two steps back, making room for the girls to move around while he watches it all happen. Once Lynda removed the hood, he couldn't stop staring at the woman's face. Though the woman was completely flushed, hair brown, and eyes closed, he can still see the likeliness...the similarities the woman shared with De'tra.

As Lynda carries the half-naked woman outside to the river, it was the feet that solidified the thought. They were large, disproportionate to her body. A physical trait all people from the brink share. With the shift of gravity and constant sailing around the edge of the world, it was natural to develop large feet to adapt. De'tra was always insecure about her large feet and would complain about how she couldn't wear cute heals or female-designed boots. Men's size footwear was all she could have if she didn't walk around barefooted, which was never since Haven wasn't known for cleanliness.

Erol jumps when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He quickly looks to his right and sees Gwyr frowning down at him.

"It's a shock, I know but we need our leader right now." He takes his hand off his shoulder. "Frost spotted Metals coming from the southeast. Orders?"

He takes a breather, getting his emotions under control and mind focus. "We set up a perimeter around the target. Frost, get those sentries placed. I trust your positioning. Gil, unpack the weapons and ammo. Gwyr, help me with the shields. We protect the target at all costs!"

Lynda walks into the waist-deep water and lowers the woman into the cold stream. "I'll hold her, you do your thing!"

"Okay!" Mousey drops the bag onto the ground and runs back to Frost for a red eco crystal. "Got it!" She runs back, rushing into the water and feels the muscles in her legs tighten up from the cold. "Once I start we can't move until I finish strengthening her body." She holds the red eco crystal up with one hand and places her other hand on the woman's chest. "I'm starting now!" The crystal glows as Mousey channels the power through her and into the woman. 

Frost places the last sentry gun down, "Roh'ko-ah!"

"Take sniper position! Gil, toss Frost a blaster!" Erol slams down a shield and holds it steady as the bottom hook ends shoot out. He releases it, watching the mechanism work as sheets of metal stretch out into a much larger metal barrier. 

[There are many. This is not coincidence.]

"But what would the Metal Leader want from the woman?"

[Not woman. Child.]

This gives Erol a pause, "What?"

[Oracle is design for creation. What it creates, you ask. I assume, Heroes.]

"No.Fucking.Way." Erol rubs his face in frustration, "We're protecting a hero?"

[A child chosen by the Liberators must not die before their time. You must not fail.]

"No fucking shit!" Erol checks his ammo count. He looks ahead and glares at the many Metal Heads charging down the hill. "Open fire!" Erol points his pistol, pulls the trigger, channels the yellow with the chamber into a stronger burst, and watches as the first Metal Head goes down with a single shot.

After the first shot, many streams of gunfire light up the forest. Frost snipes from above, taking down straggling Metal Heads that try to sneak around. Gil shoots his own blaster, reigning fire on the closest Metal Heads along with the sentry turrets. Gwyr takes up front with an eco sentry shield and scatter shot, killing Metals that breached past the barriers.

Metal Heads bark and call out. Some speak in Hora-Vox trying to give orders to their lessers as they all charge ahead. The few that lag behind howls to let the others know of their attack.

[Er'ol, the beacon!]

"Shit!" Erol shouts, "Lynda, the beacon! Activate the beacon!"

"We can't move!"

"Damn it!" Erol has a choice, either leave his position and go activate the beacon or stay and hope Mousey finishes soon. By the amassing counts of skull gems on the horizon, Erol knew making either choice is a risk. "How much longer?"

Mousey shouts back, "Approximately five!"

With Metal Heads flooding in by the seconds, five minutes was too long. "Damnnit. Frost, take over my position!"

The boy jumps down from the tree and runs over to Erol, shooting Metals left and right. Once Frost stood next to him, Erol breaks off and sprints right into the river. He shivers but toughens it out as he wades his way to the girls, "Where?"

Lynda tilts her head, "Back pocket."

Erol gets behind her and digs through her back pockets. He finds it on the first try and activates it by pressing down on the center. A light flashes on and off. Erol quickly puts the beacon back where he found it and wades back out of the water. He sprints back to Frost's side, feeling the freezing cold biting his legs. "Go retake position, I'll cover you."

"Cloakers!" Gil shouted out in warning.

Erol looks out to the field and sees bright skull gems move about without their bodies. "Frost, E-M-P! On my mark!" The teen nods, still shooting at Metals. Erol concentrates on channeling the yellow eco inside the ammo containers, "Now!"

Frost lowers his gun and snaps his fingers, a large wave of blue eco shoots out and electrifies all the cloaked Metals. Erol fires his gun, the yellow eco shots stick to the electrified Metal Heads and then combust into a large explosion, blowing large holes in their chests. The sudden explosions scarred the smaller grunt Metal Heads into retreating while their larger reptilian counterparts continues to charge head first. 

"Grenade!" Gil called in warning.

Erol dives behind the closest barrier and flinches at the sound of the grenade going off. He quickly stands back up and continues firing from his pistol, finishing off the wounded Metals and killing the dozens more that come running. With the sound of an empty chamber, he gives a silent swear and reaches into his pouch, "Cover me, I'm reloading!" He removes the clip, letting it drop to the ground, and slides in a new magazine with practiced ease. "I'm good!" He opens fires.

It wasn't long until Gil calls, "Reloading!" 

Gwyr calls, "Jackets!"

Erol looks up to the sky and sneers at the flying Metal Head insects coming their way. He never liked those types of Metal Heads, flying annoyances that were hard to hit with all their zipping around. It was better to leave them to the best marksman on their team. "Frost, take the Jackets! I'll handle the stragglers!"

Frost strafes across the field, taking each and every Metal Jacket down with a single shot. "A'to-le!" There were still more coming and he had to reload.

"Done!" Mousey shouted. "Quick, pull her to land and I'll handle the rest."

Lynda lifts the woman up and out of the water, she finds the safest clearing away from battle and gently as she could lay the woman down on the ground. She nods to Mousey without another word and runs off to battle, morph gun in hand.

Mousey searches through the bags and gets out a green eco crystal. She stands over the woman and begins to create a green eco barrier to protect the both of them, then channels green eco to heal the woman. It's a difficult task to channel eco in two different ways but it's something she must pull off to ensure they don't fail their mission and the others wouldn't get distracted to save them. She has faith in her friends just as they have faith in her to do her part.

"Eat shit fuckers! It's Mommy's turn to play!" Lynda switches her morph gun to Vulcan mode, places her boot down on top of a rock, and lights fire on all metal heads coming their way.

"Lynda," Gil calls out, "keep'em busy while I reload the turrets!"

Gwyr shoots the last Metal Head and jogs over to Gil, "I'll cover you!" He holds up his eco shield, placing himself between the Metal Heads and Gil coming at them.

Erol runs to the guns and tosses his pistol for a blaster. He turns around and shoots the Metal Heads going for Gwyr and Gil. He then shoots at the Metals surrounding Frost, there best marksman still prioritize the Metal Jackets in the sky. Once the Metals we're dead, he quickly reloads and glances a few times at Mousey.

She was sweating up a storm under the barrier, concentrating on both holding up a barrier and healing the pregnant woman. There weren't any Metal Heads around her but he has a feeling they will try to flank with stronger forces. Erol will leave her to it but needs to get Lynda back by her side. The crazy woman still he holds the beacon and she's across the river on the front line.

With a plan on mind and his weapon fully reloaded, Erol grabs several more clips and tucks them into his belt. He runs out tossing Frost two magazines before sprinting towards Lynda. He stops to tuck three Vulcan Fury clips into her belt and commands, "You have the beacon! Once Gil is done, pull back!"

"Yes, sir!" She continues to mow down Metals left and right. 

Erol runs to Gwyr, blasting a few Metal Heads coming at him. One was lucky enough to take a swipe at him but Erol was quick to bash the creature's head with the butt of gun and blast it's head open. He continues his way to Gwyr, calling out "Ammo" before tossing him round magazines for his scatter shit. He commands, "Once you guys are finished, retake positions! Lynda must stay on target!" He runs off barely hearing the "yes sir" from Gwyr.

The battle goes on in a blur. Erol feels his breathing becoming more restrained as time goes on. His teammates follows his orders, retaking their previous positions once Gil reloaded the last turret. Just as Lynda leaves to protect the woman, Erol saw them...their glowing staves bouncing as they run. 

"Tossers!" He warned them, quickly shooting down the serpentine Metal Heads running with them. "We got Tossers!" The best weapon to take down Metal Head Tossers is the Vulcan Fury and turrets, but that wasn't possible in their situation. The turrets lock onto the closest targets and Lynda was far in the back taking care of their target. Tossers don't need to get close to attack, preferring long distance range while their bulkier counterparts both protects them and act as distraction. If Erol is right, those things will destroy the turrets first before taking aim at them.

They need to go down first, but how..?

[Use my power.]

"Lo're?"

[Do it. Only this once.]

Erol takes a deep breath, holds up his blaster, takes aim, and communes with the eco inside the gun. The raw energy takes another form, draining all the bullets into one shot. A bright yellow ring forms around the barrel, spinning with arches of yellow lightning burning everything it touches. He pulls the trigger...the yellow ring disappears.

All the Metal Heads in Erol's sight disintegrate into ash in an instant while those caught on the edge catches in fire. 

Erol drops the gun, feeling the tips of fingers burn in pain. He rips his gloves off and assesses the damage done to his hands. He watches his nails turn black and hands become white as snow.

[Quickly, silence the power.]

Erol shuts off his eco powers, feeling the burning sensation subside and the transformation cease. The smell of burning rot and metal has him looking around on the battle field. One turret is down and two shields are destroyed. Gwyr and Gil pulls back to the two turrets remaining, Frost keeps his focus on blasting the remaining Metal Jackets, and Lynda blasts Metal Heads away from Mousey's barrier. They're losing ground and Erol can't channel eco until Lore tells him. 

He runs over to pick up another blaster, hands feeling stiff as a rock, and takes position next to Frost. Pulling the trigger became easier but his aim drifts. He still hits them but it takes two shots instead of one without use of his channeling abilities. Frost must have taken noticed and request they pull back to the precursor structure. 

"Not 'til Mousey's finished or rescue comes!" Erol more of reminded than command. 

"Kra-eesh!" Frost swore, blasting the next wave of Metal Jackets before gunning down the Metal Tossers.

A Tosser lands a lucky shot and destroys another turret before Frost could gun it down. The Metal Heads move to box around the humans with only the river behind them. With one turret left there's no way they can stop them.

Erol hates he gives the command but they have no choice, "Pull back! Cross the river and pull back!"

The turret is abandoned and the barriers left behind. Gwyr was quick to grab the bag of ammunition before crossing the river. Gil right behind him grabs the weapons. With two people with their hands full, Erol and Frost focuses down the Metals going right for their teammates. Lynda comes with the big save as she empties her entire gun on the Metals slowed down in the water. Everyone makes it to the other side and surrounds Mousey's barrier as they quickly open fire on the Metal Heads.

Frost shoots down the Metal Jackets. Gwyr shield bashes the nearest Metal Heads and blast a group charging at them at full speed. Lynda switches her morph gun to scatter mode, finding no time to reload her Vulcan. She blasts the Metals coming to close to the eco barrier and away from Frost. Erol throws his blaster in a Metal's face and picks up a pistol to fire kill it. With no eco to channel, he has to risk them get close and aim for the vitals between their metal armored plates. 

Mousey calls from behind them, "I'm almost done guys! Just a little longer! Two minutes!"

Lynda smirks, "We can hold for two minutes!" Finding time to spare, she quickly switches back to Vulcan mode reloads her gun. "Frost! Homing needles!"

Frost snaps his fingers, a much smaller wave of blue eco goes out and shocks every metal Head in the vicinity. It doesn't slow them down or do any damage, but it was just what Lynda needs to pull of her move. She revs up her Vulcan, channels the blue eco inside the barrel and fires randomly. Streams of blue whistles through the air curving around trees, arches over the barriers, spins in circles, and avoid rocks by going around. Each bullet strikes the closest Metal Heads dead before moving onto the next. 

In fear of the blue streams, Metal heads break apart and runs away. They scatter amongst the trees and quite the few that saw ran back over the hills in full retreat.

Lynda sucks her teeth, "We got Sentries! Metal Sentries!"

Erol looks beyond the tree line, glowing eco shields bobbing up and down with the tall Metal Heads' movement. Those will be near impossible to take down with so many working together. You can't penetrate their dark eco shields and they have infinite shots with all the dark eco in their veins. They could channel the dark eco out of the shields but it leaves them vulnerable to attacks. The best decision is to bait them into taking shots and blast them when they're shields are down.

He doesn't want to risk it but what options do they have? Erol reloads both guns, counting the amount of magazines left remaining. Ten blaster canisters, fifteen pistol clips, eight scatter shot rounds, and five Vulcan magazines. There are still grenades but only seven.

[Delay them. There's no need to kill them all now.]

Lo're was right. They just have to hold off until Mousey is finished.

"Gwyr!" He tosses a grenade, "Flash bomb!"

Gwyr channels the eco inside the grenade and let's it cook in his hand. He counts to five and tosses it into the air, "Flash!" He drops to his knee, covering his eyes with his arm.

A bright light outshines the sun and banishes the shadows. Metal Heads screech in pain at the bright light, shaking their heads and frozen in place unable to see. 

Frost, with his blue eco eyes, is immune to the flash. He takes down the Sentry Metal Heads and then kills whatever's left of the Metal Jackets. 

The light goes out and Erol stands back up and uncovers his face to blast the Metal Heads closest to him. Gwyr reloads. Lynda reloads. Gil open fires.

"I'm done!" Mousey drops the barrier and goes to tap Lynda's shoulder. "Go pick her up!" She whips out her staff and channels blue eco into everyone besides the unconscious woman. 

Everyone moves at a fast pace. Lynda picks up the woman and heads towards the precursor building. Mousey and sticks with her, continuously channeling blue eco as they go. Frost and Erol flanks them while Gwyr and Gil lags a bit behind to act as a moving wall. Soon they all run with Lynda in the lead, Erol and Gil takes turns picking off Metal Heads, a new swarm of Metal Jackets appearing seemingly out of no where.

They make it into the building, Mousey channels red eco and strengthens everyone's bodies. Lynda places the woman down, settling her down on her side. Gwyr and Gil stand in the doorway, punching Metal Heads to death left and right while Erol and Frost snipes down the Metal Jackets trying to take a shot at them.

[Take the eco out of the door, hurry.]

Erol activates his eco abilities and channels blue eco out of the door. The large circular golden orange door slowly closes with sharp edges coming out of the frame, enclosing in a spiral pattern. It takes a while, the Metal Heads slipping through the door are quickly taken care of by his teammates before the last surge of energy slices the rest in half. Erol quickly channels the eco to Frost, making up the reserves the teen had spent.

"Uwl-kah an'te gra." Frost was appreciative and cracks a joke about it being a close call.

Erol pants out a laugh. He barely finds the energy to speak, "You're right. That was too close." He falls to his rear and checks the time on his comm. "We've been fighting for almost half an hour and the pick up still didn't come."

Gil tosses her weapon with a sneer, "Yeah, and we're stuck here 'til calvary arrives! We got no extra weapons. Barely any ammo!" She kicks the remaining black bag, "Nothin' but MREs, water, five eco crystals, and a thermos for our runaway!" She glares at the woman, "If that lady wakes up any time soon Imma punch her in the face!"

Lynda raises her hand, "I'm second!"

Erol barks out, "No one is going to hit her!" He looks at them all and sees the tired angry looks on their faces. Even Gwyr looks ready to give in and rip a limb off the woman. "An order is an order. Nothing changes until we're done." He looks at the woman and tiredly sighs.

The woman is to blame as everything quickly turned to shit. He hates Haven Forest. He hates the Baron giving them this mission. He hates being told what to do. He hates needing to fight for his life. He hates that he woke up this morning. He just...hates everything right now. 

He may be the Baron's personal soldier but he's still just a kid. Four-fucking-teen. Kids his age would be jet-boarding around the stadium and hanging out with their friends, talking about crappy homework and sucky teachers. Not any of this shit, killing Metal Heads and running for his life on a near constant. He doesn't think he could handle another day. He's been run ragged for too long with barely any rest in between.

"We need a vacation." Erol runs the sweat off his brow.

"Preaching to the choir," Lynda comments with a huff. She goes for her pockets and then glances at the pregnant woman. "Fuck I need to smoke."

Gwyr deactivates his eco shield, the energy field powers down to the small disc connected to his arm. He lays down against the pillar, feet kicked out with the gun in his lap, "I need sleep. I barely got four hours."

Gil lays on her back, "Same. Frost?" Frost shakes his head. "Don't stay doped up on that eco. You're gonna need breaks before yah fry your brain."

"I think I'll sleep too." Mousey sits down next to the woman, "I also have a confession." Everyone looks at her. "When you guys were pushed back against my barrier, I had to rush the healing process. I communed with eco," she takes off her glasses, showing off her bright yellow eyes, "and my eyes changed. Also, I can naturally sense eco, especially dark."

Gwyr looks at Erol, "I'm pretty sure you're not the only one."

Erol feels their eyes on him. "Yeah, I communed and my hands changed a bit."

Gil groans, "So you guys are outta commission 'til further notice. Great."

[You must rest. They will need your leadership.]

"Lo're is telling me to sleep." Erol looks to the others, "I'm guessing Frost take first shift. We'll do a four hour rotation with me and Mousey last."

Lynda raises her hand, "I can take next shift."

Gil calls out, "Third!"

Gwyr yawns, "Four."

"I'll take fifth and Mousey is last. We're gonna need all the eco we can use."

"Great, it's settled!" Lynda lays down and kicks up her feet on the bag. "Let's finally get some shut eye."

Erol lays on his back and stares at the ceiling. He tucks his right arm under his head and holds a pistol in his left, trying what little comfort he could make for himself and sleeps.

"Erol!"

He hears his name. The sense of urgency stairs his body to move but he still wouldn't wake.

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT EROL! WAKE THE FUCK UP!!"

Erol opens his eyes and sits all the way up. He grips his pistol solidly in his left and looks around. He sees Lynda glaring at the door.

"They're using blue eco to power the doors!"

[Their leader is behind this. Desperation, it leads it's kind to death without remorse. This is not normal Hora-Quan behavior.]

If Lore says it then Erol doesn't doubt it. Lore sounded troubled by the thought, and why wouldn't it? It worries Erol to learn a Metal Head is willing to ignore preserving its hive for it's own life. It was too...human. 

There's a scary thought, a Metal Head that works like a human. Scary, but not impossible. It would explain a lot of things and how the creature almost bested them multiple times.

He quickly gets to his feet and looks as the doors slowly starts to open. "Lo're, eco?"

[Too soon. Two hours has passed.]

"Two hours? Where's the pick up?"

Lynda sneers, "That's what I'm thinking! The fuck is taking them so long?!"

Gwyr jogs up next to them, "Orders?"

He barks out, "Frost, suck all the blue eco you can! Gwyr, go find the blue eco crystal, see if you do the same. Gil, super charge the grenades and toss'em! Lynda, stays with the target."

Gil thumbs over her shoulder, "Mousey is still conked out. Should we wake her?"

[You both still need rest.]

Erol jerks his head towards the back, "Go wake her up and tell her not to use eco until her body's ready."

"On it!" Gil runs.

"Lo're, hear me out..." Erol goes for the bag, "...what if I can cut off the Metal Heads here from the hive mind?"

[It can be done, yet you must commune once more.]

"If it means we all get to live, I'll do it."

[Spoken as a true Hora-Quan. Come what will, I am here with you mine disciple. Take hold of the dark eco and I shall guide you.]

Erol takes hold of the dark eco crystal and activates his abilities once again. Dark eco channels into his body, the chaotic energy turns his hair white...

[Think of all thoughts silent and make it so.]

He closes his eyes, the eco crystal drops from his hands...

Silence.

Amber eyes open.

He's back under his fluffy blanket in his comfortable home. Odd as it wasn't the last thing he remembered.

He sits up in bed, tossing the blanket aside as he takes everything in. There's a needle in his arm. His eyes follows the wire leading up to a machine nailed to his wall. He can sense the dark eco without needing to look inside.

He's being pumped with dark eco, but why?

He takes the needle out, careful not to rip his vein and uneasily stands. His body feels weak, barely able to stand yet he powers through and makes his way to his living room. The moment he enters the living room, Erol felt choked.

Everyone was here, asleep on his furniture in pajamas. Lynda has Gil and Mil wrapped in her long arms. Her bad habit of kicking her feet up on the table serves as a pillow for De'tra. Gwyr takes the whole sofa with Kym in his lap and drooling on his shoulder. Frost and Chaz looked to have fought over his dining chair both with half their butts on the seat but alseep on each other's shoulder. Yarn blocks the walkway while Lace spoons aroun his end table. The only one missing was Mousey.

He hears clattering in his wash room and hobbles his way to the one of the side rooms. He pushes open the door to the dark room and hears Mousey gasp in surprise.

"Erol?" Her yellow eyes glow in the dark, moving closer in the shadows as she peers at him. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Kind of weak. What happened?"

She stops just before him, her face clearly seen my the living room light. "You...uh, I'm sorry. I just don't know how to tell you."

He gives a tired half shrug, "Just tell me."

"Your body... it...wouldn't stop mutating." She looks into his eyes, brows furrowed with a troubled look. "After you cut the Metal Heads off from the hive mind, they were confused and started attacking each other. It turns out they were also jamming the beacon's signal and help finally showed up. You passed out and Gwyr carried you home. We were all worried," she chuckles, "even the Commander looked worried. He ordered me to fix whatever was wrong, and trust me I tried, but your body wouldn't stop mutating." She guilty looks off to the side, "Since you were unconscious, we took turns communing with dark eco to slow down the process. That's when Lynda called everyone and...here we are!" She smiles up at him, "We kept going until it finally stopped. Then it started again and I we all communed with eco. I noticed your body was burning through dark eco like a Hora-Quan and figured the mutation stopped because the dark eco serves as a counter balance. It fools your body to think it doesn't need to change. Once my theory was proven correctly, I connected you to an eco feeder and filled it up with dark." She frowns, "The rest is up to you. You need to take in at least four gallons of dark eco a week. Less than that and the mutation will start again. If that happens, quickly find the nearest dark eco lake and soak up as much as you can until it stops." She stares at him, his face expressionless. "Erol?"

He blinks and then walks to his bathroom. He flicks the switch on and looks at himself in the mirror. He looks down at his body. He pulls out his boxers and peaks down below. He release the elastic and rubs his face with a groan, sounding as though he was in pain.

Mousey stands by the bathroom door, "What's wrong?"

"I'm orange."

Mousey blinks in confusion, "What?"

"I'm orange." He looks back at the mirror. Nothing has changed except he'd lost some weight, all his nails are black, and all of his hair is completely orange.

Orange.

"I was fine with red-orange. My hair looked like it was on fire. It was cool! But orange...orange?!" He covers his face with both hands, "I rather turn into a Metal Frog."

Mousey rolls her eyes and walks away, "You're welcome drama queen." In the wash room she smiles, glad Erol was back to his teenage self again.

A melodramatic Erol was better than the harsh persona he takes on while on duty. Lynda calls it "The Commander" face, like a impersonation of the Baron. Erol plays the roll flawlessly and creates a void between him and those he commands. His tone alone carries an underlying threat, secretly carrying a promise of fear and pain if they disobey.

Erol, her real Erol, Er'ol, is a soft hearted person who gives as much love he gets in return. Her real Erol would scold them and immediately forgive them once they apologize. Their real Erol would work extra hours to help provide for the others, paying off bills and filing tedious paperwork. Their real Er'ol laughs, tease, smiles, high-fives, jokes, and even cries.

Erol is not the "Commander". Yet, Mousey fears that some day he will be and forget who is.

Hopefully, if it does happen, someone will be there by his side.