"Dresden Codak: Affronts to Nature." (closed for Ahren)

The arid Arizona landscape whicked by the windows at a deceptively sluggish pace, littered with the curious species that dotted the plains and with the remnants of the long-ago war.

The chain-track that traced the speeding-bullet monorail's path to its destination clacked beneath the hurtling leviathan so continuously that it had become a hum, a subtle yet profound vibration that Kimiko "Thunderbolt" Ross felt in her back teeth, and in the sockets of her cybernetic prostheses.

The machine city waited. Nephilopolis.

Her father's legacy.

She smirked faintly at this, wearily. 'No more handouts,' I told him.

And now, at my lowest financial ebb, where am I going?

The nexus of his legendarium. His very halidom.

...arglbargle.

Clawing metallic fingers through her hair, feeling the strands slither through her digits through the glove and the prosthetic's haptic interface, Kim released a long, noisy sigh, and leaned back against the seat.

There were noises in the corridor outside her compartment, shuffling and bustling, passengers unable to remain at rest even while remaining in motion, cognitive dissonance of inertia.

One brown eye and one curiously dark blue eye regarded the door with a modicum of trepidation. It wasn't that she disliked people. (At least, not anymore. Not usually.)

But it was so much easier to think without people around.

And they tended to stare. As soon as they... noticed.

Whether they were staring out of jealousy or prejudice, she wasn't sure which would be better, she just wished they wouldn't stare. Biology was a kind of mechanic, after all, just an extremely limited subset of what was possible in the spectra of life and machinery. Why should it be so strange that she had diversified?

It wasn't like she'd done it on purpose.

When one gets three limbs and an eye seared off by a giant laser beam while saving The World from the twice-blind progeny of its own future, one finds a way to continue functioning afterwards.

Grunting softly, she tucked her left knee up to herself and draped her mechanical arm across that knee, gazing out the window at the world instead of through the darkened pane that gave a dismal view of the occupants of the corridor.

Briefly, she considered digging into her bag for the dog-eared copy of Asimov's "The Edge of Tomorrow," one of the only things she'd salvaged from her previous existence. But she'd already read it, so many times.

...instead, she began watching the creatures roaming about that quasi-wasteland.

Biology is so, so limited.

There's so much that's possible...

Just you wait.

Just you wait.

Another car down, the same landscape that Kim gazed out upon passed the window of a young yet rugged looking man. Erik Scott's emerald eyes fixated straight outward, not even bothering to focus on any one particular life form or landmark. His mind was in an entirely different place. It was all scenery that he had experienced before, anyway... After what seemed like an eternity of silence, his hand raised to slip into his dusty brown jacket's inside pocket, withdrawing a worn packet of cigarettes.

Flipping it in his hand, the pack turned over, allowing him to tap the bottom to produce one of the few sticks left. In a rather automated fashion, he placed into his mouth and withdrew his lighter next, the small flame appearing with a quick flick of the igniter. As he brought the fire closer to his lips, a sudden inhuman voice came from behind, nearly starling him enough to drop the cigarette from his lips.

"OPEN FLAME AND SMOKING ARE PROHIBITED ON THIS TRAIN, SIR."

Erik slowly turned, a clear expression of irritation on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the silver, uniformed android that had approached him from the isles. Its single red eye fixated specifically on his still lit lighter until he gave in and puffed out the flame.

"Sorry..." He insincerely muttered back with a sigh, placing the cigarette back into its pouch and subsequently his pocket. The android marched off with Erik watching, sure that somewhere in that thing's circuits it felt pretty smug about its little accomplishment.

Hate these new goddamn synthetics. They smell exactly like the train...

The brown-haired man slumped back into his seat, glancing over to the one next to him only occupied by his rather large travel bag. Thankfully the robotic attendants were just as gullible as humans, if not more so... They weren't his concern, however, he thought as he looked out the window once more. The machine city was in view now. Though still mostly a silhouette and obstructed by the clouds, a pair of lights were plainly visible, giving it an ominous, living appearance. There wasn't any turning back now...

The descent to Hell is easy...

Kim. Planes, Trains, and Autodidacts.

Kim gazed out through the window at a pair of animals, curiously combining the qualities of pachyderms and giraffes. And in a childlike flight of fancy, she began making believe that one of those beasts was wearing weapons from The Old War around its head like a harness.

Pantomiming the array of such a device, Kim positioned her fingers such that it framed the head of that animal, and when it turned its head to look at its herdmate she began to make little sound effects to support her conjured scenario.

"Pew pew," she murmured, "oh nooo..."

She sensed more than heard movement behind her, she suddenly felt eyes upon her and as she whipped her head around to glance horrified and abashed at whomever might have snuck into her compartment, right as she turned her head she saw something outside. Something in the corner of her eye.

Something buried in the castoffs of The Old War.

Right as she looked away.

Something flared.

The floor lurched, gravity went perpendicular, her equilibrium spiraled, she saw the masked man who had come to talk to her fall and crash through the door, she saw the little floaty drone thing by his head shatter in mid-air...

She reached for them but she was falling, she was falling, too, not just through space but through-- through--

--like through the gap above The Einstein-Rosen Bridge, like through The Gate projected by H.O.B., like through countless spheres of alternate existence upon which she'd stumbled in her career, she felt herself falling through the wastes between the worlds, felt her matter shifting phases and back again as the train--

--rolled--

--and Kim barely managed to get her hands in front of her face before gravity changed directions yet again and.

Everything went black.


She awoke.

Later.

How much later she wasn't sure, her left eye had crashed and was still rebooting, hopefully it'd be able to establish chronometric discrepancy.

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. If they were on an alternate plane, a divergent alternity, it could really have been years, time's abstract mechanic theoretically could work differently on--

She coughed, and attempted to run a diagnostic. Her face hurt.

Apparently she'd attempted to protect her face with a metal hand and had that hand driven into her face, but she'd had the other hand in between, so, could have been worse.

Her legs were still responsive. She got them underneath her, holding her side with her organic hand.

Pointing the index finger of her cybernetic hand upwards, she attempted to engage the scantenna, but found that its projected holoscreens displayed the same gibberish as her eye's HUD. Still rebooting. The interspacial transition had obviously been a rough one.

Using an unstabilised wormhole as a weapon. This must have been The Old War's idea of a last-resort "scorched earth" vector. Seriously, was The Casimir Effect that hard to understand? It seemed only polite to stabilise a traversible singularity before unleashing it on your enemy.

Dust had settled, or was still settling. The train was right side up again, and the world outside her window had black-on-black skies and was lit neither by sun or moon but by a coruscating prismatic aurora display.

Kim shook her head as though to clear it.

Her outfit had held up pretty well. So had her shoulder bag.

But everything else around her seemed pretty much toast. Crap and shrapnel.

The man who'd entered her compartment was nowhere to be seen, alive or dead. But Kim could smell blood amidst the ashes and ozone. And she felt very, very alone. Could she have been the only one who'd survived?

Maybe this was a function of my position relative to the event horizon...

...maybe it's just that I've done this before?

She shook her head again.

No. I can't be--

I'm not the only one left.

Her voice usually had an underused rasp to it, and a kind of flatness, but the trauma of the moment compounded this, and she made no sound at all the first time she attempted to speak.

She coughed. Loudly. Three times.

But then she wiped her mouth and tried again, sticking her head out into what was left of the shattered corridor: "Hello? Is-- is anyone else al-- can anyone else hear me?"

Erik succumbed to his exhausted state, dozing off against the window in an effort to alleviate his boredom as well as to deter any passengers who may have made an effort to speak to him. Soon he entered a dreamstate; Hazily his mind constructed images of a light-haired woman in a long, white coat. Her smile managed to fill him with a warmth and even cause his physical body to conjure a slight smile. Then it all faded into darkness as his eyes snapped open. The next few seconds seemed like minutes as his keen instincts warned him of the imminent danger.

Without a second thought, he balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against the window beside him, causing a loud crack to echo throughout the cabin before the reinforced glass finally gave in and shattered. Out of the corner of his emerald eye, Erik caught the sight of a blinding beam of light.

No, not here...

There were no screams as it all happened too quickly for most to register. Or if there were, the sound of tearing steel and the roaring flames drowned them out. The train cabin was launched into the air which Erik realized was the signal to leave. Grabbing his large bag, he placed it in front of his body to act as a cushion against his hurling mass against the already broken window, tossing himself free of the tumbling wreckage as it screeched down the track. Erik's body followed a similar motion as his momentum carried him along the dusty ground seemingly unable to stop despite his hand grabbing at the soil while forming into an unusual clawed formation until a large rock provided that service for him. An instantaneous shock of pain was followed by darkness...

----

A sharp breath filled Erik's lungs as he awoke. A dull ache coursed thoughout his entire body, which, while unpleasant, was a relief as it at least informed him he hadn't been paralyzed by the rough landing. With a groan, the brown-haired man pushed himself up against the rock which had so helpfully ceased his earlier tumble. Nearby his bag sat as well, seemingly in one piece apart from a few tears in the fabric.

Then his eyes fell upon the remnants of the train. This wasn't a simple accident or derailing. Weaponry had been used, and aimed specifically at their transport.

Because of me...? He thought as he gave a distressed gulp. It only served to fuel his anger further. Those people were innocent. They didn't deserve this...

Erik finally managed to shuffle to his feet. What few animals had been around had quickly escaped during the commotion, and as he inspected the wreckage further down, it was difficult to reason that anyone survived. Maybe he should have remained inside and perished with the rest. At least then he would be meeting the same fate instead of continuing to live in their place. Those thoughts were foolish, though. Had he died with them, then they'd never be avenged. There were simply more lives to add to the tally.

As Erik attempted to reach down for his bag, a pain shot through his right arm. It refused to move, and upon closer inspection, the shoulder was in obvious displacement. Sighing heavily, the ruggen man bit onto his jacket collar as his left hand gripped the shoulder in question. With a quick tug a disturbing snap followed, as well as a muffled scream as he popped the shoulder back into its rightful place. He took another deep breath before glancing down to his hand as it agreed to move this time. He had to go. There wasn't much time...

Then...

"Hello? Is-- is anyone else al-- can anyone else hear me?"

A female voice. A survivor? From inside the train, no less? Erik pondered, wondering if he should even reply. For all he knew, that was the attacker, making sure the job had been done... Still, his conscience got the best of him. He had to make sure she was all right. Carefully he approached before slowly glancing inside the window in which he had heard the woman. There he was met with the sight of merely the back of a black-haired girl. Specifically his eyes fixated on the metallic disc on the back of her top. His eyes narrowed slightly, though he decided not to jump to any conclusions.

"I wouldn't sit inside there if I were you... the train's reactor is likely unstable, if it's still active at all.

You all right...?" He asked sincerely, holding out his hand through the window.

Kim. Bifurcated.

"I wouldn't sit inside there if I were you... the train's reactor is likely unstable, if it's still active at all."

She stiffened, this was twice in quick succession she'd been snuck up on, and she wasn't even suffering sufficient tinnitus this time for her to blame that for her lack of awareness. Normally she was the one doing the sneaking...

Slowly she turned, turned and looked at him with heterochromatic eyes.

(He had a point. If the train's propulsion systems weren't rendered inert by the translation from one space to another, then likely any kind of failsafes would have been put off-line.)

But for a moment, as she gazed at him, framed against that extradimensional, extracelestial sky, she wasn't thinking about failsafes or reactors at all. He was...

He was kind of beautiful, in a way that made the color-storm sky behind him look like a mere digital matte painting.

"You all right...?" He asked sincerely, holding out his hand through the window.

And in that moment, in that come with me if you want to live moment, she regained an affectation of sanity and she put her human hand into his.

"I'm still collating data," she replied, honestly enough, as her left eye struggled back towards functionality.

She hesitated, and remembered to pretend to be human.

"...thanks."

As the girl turned to face him, their eyes locked for a moment. Though Erik noticed something off rather quickly, it was actually the girl in her entirety that confused him. She looked like a college student, and he could only assume from the fact that she called out for no one in particular that she was traveling alone. His eyes scanned the rest of her body quickly. She was somewhat petite (at least compared to him) and... certainly attractive. A girl like this was going to Nephilopolis alone? Unusual... Still, he couldn't help but shake a familiar feeling when looking at her.

Nevertheless, he continued his gesture and helped her out of the wrecked cabin.

"I'm still collating data," She began. Erik raised an eyebrow. That was a very... mechanical thing to say.

"I suppose I'll take that as a 'yes'." The brown-haired man smirked as the girl's feet hit the soil.

"...thanks."

Erik merely nodded as he glanced back down toward the remnants of their transport. It was unlikely there were any other survivors. The dark-haired girl was lucky that her cabin had been the least damaged. Even then, she narrowly escaped death. His gaze turned to his jacket pocket, withdrawing the packet of cigarettes from before. Unsurprisingly the packaging was even more crumpled than before, though a couple of sticks seemed to have survived well enough. As he brought the lighter to the cigarette in his lips once again, a distressed whirring came from a nearby pile of rubble.

"O-OPEN F-F-FLAME AND S-S-S-S-ssss---SMOKING ARE-." The scarred head of the synthetic attendant from before rested on the ground, red optic fading in and out pathetically.

Erik simply strolled over, wound his leg back and proceeded to punt the head off into the Arizona landscape like a football.

"Proh..ibit...ed" The mechanical voice faded out into the distance...

"Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!" Erik cheered, raising his hands in the air in celebration before exhaling a bit of the smoke in satisfied victory.

With that, the man who was now unusually chipper despite being in a devastating accident grabbed his large bag and began to walk along the track in the direction of the foreboding city. "Don't worry. The authorities should be here soon enough. I'm sure they'll want an account of what happened. Humor them for me, won't you?" He spoke to Kim as he passed her with heavy footsteps, seemingly now unconcerned with her since she had confirmed her health.

But a few steps later, he stopped, jacket gently wavering in the gentle breeze. With only a turn of his head, Erik looked back to the girl. He wondered about her safety before, and now he was going to willingly leave her alone? He didn't think it would be safe if she joined him, but... he didn't want to be worrying about what may have happened to her either. Besides... he could do a lot worse for company than a cute girl.

"Though I suppose you could join me... If you don't mind a bit of exercise that is. Your call..."

Kim. Strange attractors and even stranger bedfellows.

Erik merely nodded as he glanced back down toward the remnants of their transport.

Tucking a lock of hair back behind her eye, adjusting her courier bag on her shoulder, Kim meanwhile glanced at the sky. The inaudibly crackling multicoloured display hadn't seemed to trouble her "rescuer" at all. Could he not see it?

...but then her left eye finished rebooting and the HUD reinitialised and the sky, inexplicably, returned to a pale azure mixed with clouds that looked as though touched by sunset.

Kim blinked. Oh. ...'kay?

I wasn't just imagining it, was I? The dimensional transition? That's... that's a pretty unmistakable feeling.

I saw the sky...

But my eye was glitching, disrupted, half-asleep and struggling towards waking.

Was it experiencing hypnagogic hallucinations? Or, at least, a digital analogue?

...well, at least it didn't hallucinate electric sheep.

Beside her, she heard the click of the lighter and she turned to regard her compatriot with a bit of surprised disdain. Her eye scanned him unfettered for the first time, and he appeared to have a first-rate heart-rate, cellular respiration, she'd never seen anyone so healthy that wasn't Dmitri or Alina.

He certainly didn't seem as lackadaisically self-poisoning as D.H. Ron, at least based on his present condition.

But something about him standing there with chiaroscuro starting to wreath his head struck her as unquantifiably arrogant, a kind of confirmation bias colouring her response to him-- Ron's idiotic "creative vision" had cost her dearly, and yet the filmmaker hadn't repented in the slightest --as though all smokers were similarly arrogant.

...but then a voice came from the crumpled hulk of the train and Kim whirled in surprise.

"O-OPEN F-F-FLAME AND S-S-S-S-ssss---SMOKING ARE-." The scarred head of the synthetic attendant from before rested on the ground, red optic fading in and out pathetically.

...the Super-Conductor.

Kim bit her lip, her hand flying to her face, and not once did she detect any double-standard in herself when she became more concerned with the state of this doomed little automaton than she ever had with any human beings who had been on that train. (It wasn't like she didn't give a rodent's posterior whether those people had lived or died, certainly not, but her visceral, emotional response was certainly more intense for the synthetic creature.)

(Not a true A.I., the poor thing. Minimal heuristics with deterministic optimisation, zero stochastic factoring in its processing...

...still, that's lovely workmanship, maybe I can still fix--)

Erik simply strolled over, wound his leg back and proceeded to punt the head off into the Arizona landscape like a football.

"Proh..ibit...ed" The mechanical voice faded out into the distance...

...Kimiko's jaw dropped, her arms slack by her side, utterly disbelieving that someone could be so uncaring, so cruel, so... cynical.

"Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!" Erik cheered, raising his hands in the air in celebration before exhaling a bit of the smoke in satisfied victory.

And her incredulity immediately skewed into revulsion, as he went from being unsympathetic to machine "life" to actively employing sporting metaphors.

Why is it the cute ones are always obsessed with how many points their team did last game? (Arglbargle.)

With that, the man who was now unusually chipper despite being in a devastating accident grabbed his large bag and began to walk along the track in the direction of the foreboding city. "Don't worry. The authorities should be here soon enough. I'm sure they'll want an account of what happened. Humor them for me, won't you?" He spoke to Kim as he passed her with heavy footsteps, seemingly now unconcerned with her since she had confirmed her health.

...seemingly now unconcerned with her, and seemingly unconcerned with the daggers and lightning bolts and solar flares she now stared at the back of his head.

Peasant. Primate.

But a few steps later, he stopped, jacket gently wavering in the gentle breeze. With only a turn of his head, Erik looked back to the girl.

Arms crossed over her stomach, she glared at him through one brown biological eye and one indigo-blue mechano-eye.

"Though I suppose you could join me... If you don't mind a bit of exercise that is. Your call..."

She grunted. And looked away.

Looked pointedly in the direction of that super-conductor's punted cybernetic cranium.

But then. She thought.

About dealing with government officials.

...government officials who'd tried to prosecute her for working in her dreams that summer, government officials who'd kept her under lock and guard when she'd helped to germinate a World-Seed and stopped The Time Colonists in the process, the incident in which her limbs had been incinerated. She'd lost an eye and an arm and both legs to those provincial chrononauts, and still The Feds had regarded her a threat.

Rubbing the upper humerus of her mechanical arm with her human hand, she sullenly contemplated the idea of her remaining at an apparent terrorist attack of a quantum-level macrodestructive nature, and facing down Feds who already regarded her a threat.

(Obviously people still bore a grudge for that, why else would the bank have blown up her foreclosed house?)

"The last time I dealt with the authorities," Kim confessed, bitterly, "I needed thermite and a parachute to escape."

She regarded him with dubiousness and disgruntlement. "They say, 'better The Devil you know,'" she opined, "but I don't believe in devils and I'm pretty good at solving for variables."

She strode after the primate with both hands on the strap of her courier bag.

"Fine."

"Let's go."

"Allons-y."

She grunted. And looked away.

Looked pointedly in the direction of that super-conductor's punted cybernetic cranium.

Erik frowned slightly, the cigarette still hanging from his lips, glancing in the same direction. What? What did I do? Was all he could mentally ask. Now the young girl seemed lost in thought, clearly considering her choices. It wasn't exactly a stretch to assume he hadn't made a very good impression on her for one reason or another. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe a lot of trouble would be avoided if they parted ways before any... revelations occurred.

"The last time I dealt with the authorities," Kim confessed, bitterly, "I needed thermite and a parachute to escape."

Finally she spoke up, the irritation in her voice was actually rather charming. Erik chuckled softly at the confession, not entirely sure if he should take it seriously, but either it meant she had a sharp wit or led a very interesting life not unlike his own. "Oh, a troublemaker? You're saying the right things!"

She regarded him with dubiousness and disgruntlement. "They say, 'better The Devil you know,'" she opined, "but I don't believe in devils and I'm pretty good at solving for variables."

The pleased look upon the man's moderately rugged face immediately returned to a frown. An emotional roller coaster for such a short conversation...

"I guess with my luck you're not referring to me as a devil in an amiable manner. You know, like... 'Oh, you devil?'

...No? Okay... "

I don't believe in devils. That sentence stuck out in particular. Perhaps her life wasn't quite like his. If she had seen the things he had seen, there would be little doubt...

She strode after the primate with both hands on the strap of her courier bag.

"Fine."

"Let's go."

"Allons-y."

Once again, Erik smirked. Despite his internal objections, this was indeed the outcome he desired the most. "Fantastic." He chimed, re-adjusting the large cylindrical bag over his shoulder and resuming his trek toward the city. However only a mere few feet later he stopped in his tracks, tossed his cigarette off to to the side and dropped his bag onto the dusty ground with a poomf.

Unzipping the long sack initially revealed a lot of clothing and not much else. It seemed as if perhaps he was going on a long journey but failed to pack anything remotely useful other than changes of clothes. However eventually he would withdraw another common staple. An electric razor and a can of shaving cream (which given the state of his stubble, had not been used in a little while), something that resembled a handheld video game system, a surge protector, and an alarm clock...

"Just getting prepared... One moment." He commented. One would wonder just what he was preparing for out in the middle of a desert with such items, but it didn't take long before he began to disassemble them. Even the can of shaving cream opened up to reveal a piece of the technological puzzle. After about a minute of opening the fake shells and taking out their hidden contents, the big picture was now quite obvious. A strange looking handgun that was able to collapse in on itself for convenient storage.

"This is a Devlon Industries Mark IV. Shiny, right? Mass accelerator-based. Not exactly standard issue. Uses no ammunition! At least, not in the usual sense... Can overheat though. Irritating... but so is running out of ammo and reloading, right? Don't ask where I got it." He explained in a somewhat excited manner, though almost instantly after his expression turned serious.

"Obviously something attacked us. I don't quite know with what or why but... That wasn't just a malfunction... He, she, it or they may still be around... Don't worry. I'll look after you." He finally glanced back at Kim, looking into her eyes with genuine honesty. Even Erik was a bit surprised at how suddenly protective he had become. It was about then that he finally noticed the heterochromia. Indeed, one of her eyes was a pretty shade of blue while the other brown. He decided not to mention it, seeing that it was so very normal compared to... his unique trait.

Though while gazing upon that shy, yet delightfully pretty face, he realized his rudeness. Before speaking, he closed his bag, slipped the compacted weapon into his jacket and stood up. "I'm sorry. Asking you to travel along side me without even giving you my name... Erik Scott. I can't help but think there's something familiar about you. Perhaps a name might clear that up?" He smiled, holding out his hand like before.

Kim. "This is a Blues riff in 'B.'"

Once again, Erik smirked.

"Fantastic." He chimed, re-adjusting the large cylindrical bag over his shoulder and resuming his trek toward the city.

Kim grimaced. "If you say so."

However only a mere few feet later he stopped in his tracks, tossed his cigarette off to to the side and dropped his bag onto the dusty ground with a poomf.

Kim kept walking for a few more strides before she realised he'd stopped. And then turned around and looked at him with bewilderment.

Unzipping the long sack initially revealed a lot of clothing and not much else. It seemed as if perhaps he was going on a long journey but failed to pack anything remotely useful other than changes of clothes. However eventually he would withdraw another common staple. An electric razor and a can of shaving cream (which given the state of his stubble, had not been used in a little while), something that resembled a handheld video game system, a surge protector, and an alarm clock...

Kim zoned out for a moment, analysing the ingredients of his bizarre little collection.

Option 1: I can recombine those components to create a short-range EMP flare which doubles as a long-range signal beacon. But you'll need sunglasses.

Option 2: We can use those to repair the damage to the train's reactor and get out of here much faster.

Option 3: Oh, wait, you're talking.

Kim shook her head and snapped out of her reverie.

"Just getting prepared... One moment." He commented.

Kim refused to engage. He was obfuscating his intentions on purpose to try and seem like some sort of... mysterious... man of mystery thing. And she was not going to rise to his bait. She grunted and looked away.

One would wonder just what he was preparing for out in the middle of a desert with such items, but it didn't take long before he began to disassemble them.

Kim stared resolutely up at the sky, under the pretense of keeping watch: Nope, not gonna ask. Not gonna wonder.

Even the can of shaving cream opened up to reveal a piece of the technological puzzle.

(Barbasol? That figures. Except in the book it was Gillette Foamy and that's why I hate product placement advertising, nothing takes you out of an immersive motion picture experience like--

--wait. I'm responsible for funding the biggest box office failures of all time.

What do I know about movie-making?)

She harrumphed and scowled and didn't even bother to pretend keeping watch.

After about a minute of opening the fake shells and taking out their hidden contents, the big picture was now quite obvious. A strange looking handgun that was able to collapse in on itself for convenient storage.

She stared at him like he'd sprouted a second head, and his second head was The King Who Never Sleeps saying something stupid about outrunning shadows.

"This is a Devlon Industries Mark IV. Shiny, right? Mass accelerator-based. Not exactly standard issue. Uses no ammunition! At least, not in the usual sense... Can overheat though. Irritating... but so is running out of ammo and reloading, right? Don't ask where I got it." He explained in a somewhat excited manner, though almost instantly after his expression turned serious.

(A gun. Seriously. A gun. This is--

OF ALL THE USEFUL THINGS I COULD HAVE MADE OUT OF THAT STUFF AND THEY WERE JUST FACSIMILES TO HIDE YOUR-- YOUR HANDHELD HADRON COLLIDER?

Boys and their toys.

...I only ever use guns as cutting torches.

There are much better ways to win a fight.)

Somehow, Kim managed to keep the nuclear meltdown happening in the reasoning centre of her brain from spreading to her face, save of course for a dangerously jumpy vein.

"Obviously something attacked us. I don't quite know with what or why but... That wasn't just a malfunction... He, she, it or they may still be around... Don't worry. I'll look after you." He finally glanced back at Kim, looking into her eyes with genuine honesty.

Kim's brain went in two directions simultaneously, Schrödingerian.

First, she recognised that he was offering to defend her, which was really quite sweet, that he would take the traditional role of guardian for someone he had never even met--

--and secondly, she got all pissed off all over again that he thought her so incapable of defending herself when she'd taken down more of those massive city-crushing robots than the nuclear-powered Wonder Twins had managed to do, she was a sneak and a problem-solver and a world-saver, she'd built herself fantastic replacement parts pretty much one-handed.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

And decided to let him live. For now.

Before speaking, he closed his bag, slipped the compacted weapon into his jacket and stood up. "I'm sorry. Asking you to travel along side me without even giving you my name... Erik Scott. I can't help but think there's something familiar about you. Perhaps a name might clear that up?" He smiled, holding out his hand like before.

Her lip twitched.

And she held out her hand, placed it in his. The mechanical one, this time.

And decided to give in to the inevitable. He would have found out eventually.

"I'm Kimiko Serena Ross, née Kimiko Sarai Kusanagi," she declared, as if admitting to have been the bastard daughter of some legendary serial killer or Creationist or something, her voice dripping with bitter revulsion. "And whether that was deliberate attack or the remnants of a long-gone war improperly disposed-of, 'Erik Scott,' if we run into more of the same you can watch me for the changes and try to keep up."

"I'm Kimiko Serena Ross, née Kusanagi," she declared, as if admitting to have been the bastard daughter of some legendary serial killer or Creationist or something, her voice dripping with bitter revulsion. "And whether that was deliberate attack or the remnants of a long-gone war improperly disposed-of, 'Erik Scott,' if we run into more of the same you can watch me for the changes and try to keep up."

Erik looked down with slight confusion when she had decided to switch hands on him, but he complied and extended his left to meet hers. It was between the sensation he now felt and the words she had spoken that he was now left, for the first time, speechless. There was no flesh beneath the glove, of that he was sure. His eyes ran up her arm and finally noticed a section in her sleeve which revealed a bit of metal. It was her whole arm...

His mind flashed to a blurry image of a figure, limbs missing, as another forcefully inserted strange mechanical tools into wired nerve connectors. The chilling scream snapped him out of the tortuous memory as he was now staring back at Kimiko, probably with a rather unnerved expression. He attempted to rectify this by smirking and remembering her last words.

"Oh, so you'll be the one looking after me?" He spoke with enthusiasm. "I admit, I'd like to see that.

Nevertheless, I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Ross..." Erik omitted the birth name, having noticed her contempt when speaking it. He did have a bit of tact...sometimes.

"Oh, now I know why you look so familiar!" He spoke cheerfully, slapping his fist into his palm as if this was exciting news.
.
.
.
.
"The girl at my favorite coffee shop has the same cute hairstyle as you!"

Tact. Sometimes.

Still, that name... Kusanagi... Kaito Kusanagi was a legendary roboticist. The city they headed to was essentially his. It was said he had a daughter, and this young girl had a cybernetic replacement. It could all be a coincidence, but could he take that risk? As tough as she presented herself, and likely was if she had survived that disaster back there, he knew she'd be in danger if he brought her along now. No, that was nonsense. He didn't have to take her everywhere he went. They were just traveling to the city together. Surely they'd part after that. Not that he really looked forward to that moment.

With his attention to her face and especially her eyes, Erik finally came to the realization that her left was not just of a different color, but cybernetic as well. There were intricacies in the design that gave it away, but they were barely noticeable. This was advanced work. Erik's expression sobered once more with concern before he returned to his walk.

"By the way, I'm not a child." He said rather suddenly, glancing back to Kimiko. "I can hear your heart race with just about everything I say, and it's definitely not infatuation (unfortunately). So if you have a problem with me, just say it..." His finished, his head turning forward. That was sort of an awkward thing to let sit in the air, so he decided to present a question. One he felt he needed the answer to...

"I assume you don't mind if I ask now, seeing that you purposefully gave me that hand, but where did you get your modifications...? Was it in the city...?"

Kim. Self-Made Ex-Millionaire.

He switched hands to accommodate her presenting him with her swaddled-up cybernetic limb. And then he... went away. A glazed-over nerve-wracked PTSD expression crawled across his face, as though he were flashing back on something deep and dark and horrible.

For an instant, Kim's heart leapt into her throat, like some sort of mnemonic trigger inherent in her cyberneticism had plunged Scott into a miasma of horror and as much as he bugged the crap out of her she hadn't intented for that to happen.

But then that Lantern Season look on his face replaced itself with that devastating self-assuredness and Kim grunted, internally chastising herself for being so easily provoked.

"Oh, so you'll be the one looking after me?" He spoke with enthusiasm. "I admit, I'd like to see that."

Kim puffed air out from her bottom lip and sent an unruly forelock slightly more askew. Tch'yeah, I just bet you would.

"Nevertheless, I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Ross..."

She swung her gaze back around to look at him.

"Oh, now I know why you look so familiar!" He spoke cheerfully, slapping his fist into his palm as if this was exciting news.

Rolling her eyes and closing them, she immediately resigned herself to his either launching into a diatribe about how cool her father was, or how bad her movies were, could go either way in this, but she hardly expected him to laud her for saving a boondock little mini-metropolis on The Pacific Frontier...

"The girl at my favorite coffee shop has the same cute hairstyle as you!"

Her eyes popped open again. And she laughed, laughed a little bit disbelievingly, one hand in her hair as she ducked her head down and then craned it back up to look at him. Well. That could have gone worse.

Still. Boys and their barista girls. Silly silly boys.

I should '@' Hannelore on Twitter and warn her about boys and their baristas.

But as she was watching his face, his face changed.

Erik's expression sobered once more with concern before he returned to his walk.

"By the way, I'm not a child." He said rather suddenly, glancing back to Kimiko. "I can hear your heart race with just about everything I say, and it's definitely not infatuation (unfortunately). So if you have a problem with me, just say it..." His finished, his head turning forward.

Flabbergasted anew, she watched him walk. Wait. What? Shut up.

You cannot hear my heartbeat you big liar.

She charged after him to call him out on this...

...but as she caught up to him, he spoke again.

"I assume you don't mind if I ask now, seeing that you purposefully gave me that hand, but where did you get your modifications...? Was it in the city...?"

She tracked to a halt beside him. And hesitated. Because that actually sounded... kind. Sincerely kind. And she didn't know what to do with that.

"...no," she murmured, as she matched his pace. "I've never been to The Capital."

Glancing down at her hand, her mechanical hand, she flexed metallic metacarpals and smiled thinly. "I made these myself. The eye was hardest, I had to do that one-handed and without proper depth perception. Took a lot of time on that. Then the hand. Then the legs, and the neural interfaces."

Then she eyed him, quietly. "I don't know that I have a problem with you. As such. I don't know you. And I suppose you did help me out of a jam with the train back there. But I'm not a fan of sidearms, or talking in 'sportisms,' or kicking artificial life forms when they're down."

She harrumphed softly. "And smoking's something of a dealbreaker for me. It's almost as bad as Christianity."

Eyes half-lidded, she watched his face, searched him for a reaction to that, that would just be icing on the cake.

"What about you?" she continued, her smoky voice attempting a modicum of conversation. "If you... if you really can hear my heart beating, you must be 'modded,' too. Did you have your work done in The City?"

"...no," she murmured, as she matched his pace. "I've never been to The Capital."

Interesting... Erik thought to himself as he glanced down to his traveling partner after a minor sigh of relief.

Glancing down at her hand, her mechanical hand, she flexed metallic metacarpals and smiled thinly. "I made these myself. The eye was hardest, I had to do that one-handed and without proper depth perception. Took a lot of time on that. Then the hand. Then the legs, and the neural interfaces."

...Even more interesting. A young girl, from the Frontier, no less, built her own cybernetic enhancements. It wasn't a coincidence after all. She really is his daughter....

Then she eyed him, quietly. "I don't know that I have a problem with you. As such. I don't know you. And I suppose you did help me out of a jam with the train back there. But I'm not a fan of sidearms, or talking in 'sportisms,' or kicking artificial life forms when they're down."

She harrumphed softly. "And smoking's something of a dealbreaker for me. It's almost as bad as Christianity."

Erik laughed out loud, slapping his forehead before glancing toward Kim once again, realizing that was likely an offensive reaction and reverting his expression to the previously calm and understanding state.

"A scientist atheist introverted mez with a disdain for sports. In the Frontier, you're likely quite the unique snowflake. Unfortunately you're a dime a dozen in The City." Erik gestured toward their destination. For a moment, he paused, staring Kim right in the eyes with intensity while reaching out to grasp her cybernetic hand in his.

"But the fact that you did this yourself... that remarkable eye especially... I'm in awe. It's rare to see a mez this young, but one who made her own enhancements.. That's... impressive..." He complimented, though there was a hint of discontent in his voice considering the level of praise. "Never seen one quite so attractive either..." He finished with his usual liveliness, however.

"but hey, out of courtesy as long as we're together I'll hold off on the smoking. If you hold off a bit on the... glaring. At me. That you keep doing... It's okay if you're not fond of me though. We're just walking. Not like this is a date or anything."

It was then she asked the big question. She was clever and he had been clumsy...

"What about you?" she continued, her smoky voice attempting a modicum of conversation. "If you... if you really can hear my heart beating, you must be 'modded,' too. Did you have your work done in The City?"

He let go of her and and sighed softly. He could lie and say he was kidding but he had a feeling the young dark-haired woman would see right through it. Instead he would answer the question as simply as possible. Omitting the rest was not a lie, after all.

"Yes... Though not by choice...

And you? Was there an accident? Or are you simply one of those types who thinks you're bettering yourself this way?" Scott snorted as he turned forward again and continued his stroll. With a gaze to the sky, Erik couldn't help but wonder what was keeping the shuttles. They should have at least seen or heard one heading for the wreckage by now. There was no way they couldn't know. In fact, the closer they got to Nephilopolis, the darker it seemed...

Kim. Self-Made Ex Machina.

Erik laughed out loud, slapping his forehead before glancing toward Kim once again, realizing that was likely an offensive reaction and reverting his expression to the previously calm and understanding state.

"A scientist atheist introverted mez with a disdain for sports. In the Frontier, you're likely quite the unique snowflake. Unfortunately you're a dime a dozen in The City." Erik gestured toward their destination.

Kim parsed that paragraph carefully, gazing ahead of herself with his gesture. A dime a dozen. Does that mean people won't stare nearly so bad? Not staring could be good. Whatever a 'mez' is, I can be one if I'm not to be stared at.

But then he did something that surprised her.

For a moment, he paused, staring Kim right in the eyes with intensity while reaching out to grasp her cybernetic hand in his.

She forced herself not to flinch, forced herself to summon all her righteous indignation and even locked the neural augments in her cervical spine so she wouldn't turn her head away, oh, that staring, that was the stuff. Yeah, this staring was ostensibly complimentary, but oh, still the staring.

"But the fact that you did this yourself... that remarkable eye especially... I'm in awe. It's rare to see a mez this young, but one who made her own enhancements.. That's... impressive..." He complimented, though there was a hint of discontent in his voice considering the level of praise. "Never seen one quite so attractive either..." He finished with his usual liveliness, however.

At that, she couldn't help herself, though she was quite disgusted with herself at the prospect... she flinched and she turned away and she felt her cheeks growing hot. Arglbargle...

He continued on with the charismatic man of mystery routine, kept throwing in that word "mez" like it should mean something to her.

"but hey, out of courtesy as long as we're together I'll hold off on the smoking. If you hold off a bit on the... glaring. At me. That you keep doing... It's okay if you're not fond of me though. We're just walking. Not like this is a date or anything."

"You're right," she harrumphed. "It's not. But I appreciate the courtesy of a few clean lungfuls."

But it was true, it was true, he was being courteous, and before that awkward awkward moment, in which his stare had drilled deep into her own, he had sounded sincere.

It was then she asked the big question. She was clever and he had been clumsy...

"What about you?" she continued, her smoky voice attempting a modicum of conversation. "If you... if you really can hear my heart beating, you must be 'modded,' too. Did you have your work done in The City?"

He let go of her and and sighed softly.

"Yes... Though not by choice..."

She hesitated at that. Getting augmented against one's will was antithetical to everything Kim held dear as a transhumanist. The ultimate goal of transhumanism was to defeat death and hold back age for all mankind, letting everyone die at a time of their own choosing rather than at a time arbitrarily declared by The Universe.

But the key element of all of this was choice.

If Erik Scott had been transhumanised, so to speak, against his will, he had been gravely sinned against. Kim bit her lower lip and held her tongue in repentant silence.

"And you? Was there an accident? Or are you simply one of those types who thinks you're bettering yourself this way?" Scott snorted as he turned forward again and continued his stroll.

Kim shook her head as she kept walking, and quoted softly: "'To be more than human is to be human.'"

She hugged herself, and frowned. "I would have, I think. Eventually. I was more concerned with perfecting a Seed A.I. and thereby advancing The Technological Singularity, I was more concerned with the macro scale of things than my own personal augmentation. But I think I would have done it, eventually, transferred my wetware into the proper hardware and lived out my days as a cybernetic organism."

She laughed a little, bitterly, glancing down at her hand and flexing her fingers. "But no. It wasn't really an... accident. But it was push coming to shove, I had to adapt or perish, just like evolution."

Kim shrugged, and realised just how lame and fictional this would sound: "I fell in battle saving The Tokamak Twins from would-be conquerors from the future, torched by an energy blast. My father came to find me in the hospital, he offered me new and better parts, but I was tired of his freebies and I made my own."

She half-glanced at Scott, half-glanced back at the ground, presently oblivious to his growing unease. "Six of one. I had it done to me and I did it to myself."

Frowning, she attempted again to run etymological analysis on "mez," and came up short. "'Mez.' Explain."

Kim shook her head as she kept walking, and quoted softly: "'To be more than human is to be human.'"

Erik frowned lightly. Was that her answer? Luckily for him the young girl continued before he had a chance to open his mouth.

She hugged herself, and frowned. "I would have, I think. Eventually. I was more concerned with perfecting a Seed A.I. and thereby advancing The Technological Singularity, I was more concerned with the macro scale of things than my own personal augmentation. But I think I would have done it, eventually, transferred my wetware into the proper hardware and lived out my days as a cybernetic organism."

The scruffy man remained silent during her initial response. So she was one of those sorts... It was a shame. He had really been starting to like her. Still, he allowed her to continue.

She laughed a little, bitterly, glancing down at her hand and flexing her fingers. "But no. It wasn't really an... accident. But it was push coming to shove, I had to adapt or perish, just like evolution."

She was being vague on purpose. Not that he would blame her. It wasn't as if he went into the details of his 'modifications' either. If that was where she wanted to end the story he would have respected it, despite not having a clue what she was talking about. It was then that she came out and told the truth. And what a truth it was.

Kim shrugged, and realised just how lame and fictional this would sound: "I fell in battle saving The Tokamak Twins from would-be conquerors from the future, torched by an energy blast. My father came to find me in the hospital, he offered me new and better parts, but I was tired of his freebies and I made my own."

There was now a distinct look of surprise on Erik's face, however it was not at all disbelief. Given some of the things he had seen in his time; the stories he had heard... It was possible. That or she was weaving quite the web of lies for seemingly no reason.

She half-glanced at Scott, half-glanced back at the ground, presently oblivious to his growing unease. "Six of one. I had it done to me and I did it to myself."

"So you have enemies then?" Erik responded abruptly, staring forward with an unusual intensity, then he glanced over to her with what she now probably was realizing was a signature confident smile. "Good, that means that you stood up for something, once in your life. For better or worse they helped you become what you are... I suppose the story is the same for me. Unfortunately I failed to save anyone, and I was made into what I am now as a result."

Erik clentched his fist, glancing down at his flesh almost as if he was admiring it; being thankful that it was still there. "I suppose I don't know if I should say sorry or not. It seems as if you were heading down that path regardless... Unfortunately it is people who think that technology trumps flesh that are the reason I am this way.

'To be more than human is to be human?' How can you even explain such a phrase? It began with only the necessary enhancements. Wooden teeth, fake appendages to amputees. Then came the face lifts, the tummy tucks, the hair plugs. Vanity. Now People want to throw away what makes them human altogether. In five billion years whatever humans are left will be nothing but a flat piece of skin with a face and a brain in a jar... This isn't natural evolution."

Erik continued, the gravity of his words showing that this had been a subject weighing on his mind for a good while. He looked to Kim once again, staring into her eyes, almost feeling sorry now for that mechanical implant that gazed back at him.

"If anything is sacred, the human body is sacred..." He ended quietly, almost as if it was only to himself. He then took a large sigh and shook his head.

"It sounds like you risked your life for a noble cause. For that I admire you. However I think we have different viewpoints on how we should better ourselves..."

Frowning, she attempted again to run etymological analysis on "mez," and came up short. "'Mez.' Explain."

"Oh.." He paused, scratching his hair a bit. "I forgot some of those terms might be new to you. Uh, mez.. Mezzode. Cyborg. City slang, I guess...

Being entirely a machine... For me, all the thought stirs up is horror... Tell me, can that arm of yours actually feel? And not just 'sense' but... feel? Like your flesh hand can?"

Kim. Isaiah 40:6.

Erik Scott listened to Kim with varying degrees of bitterness and incredulity and wide-eyed recognition, but he had things to say and would not be kept silent for long.

"So you have enemies then?" Erik responded abruptly, staring forward with an unusual intensity, then he glanced over to her with what she now probably was realizing was a signature confident smile. "Good, that means that you stood up for something, once in your life."

Kim narrowed her eyes as she digested that tidbit. It echoed with familiarity.

Are you knowingly quoting Winston Churchill? Or is this some sort of cryptomnesiac thing where you're subconsciously paraphrasing?

...are you actually smarter than you look?

The dialogue, however, continued apace, allusions conscious or not.

"For better or worse they helped you become what you are... I suppose the story is the same for me. Unfortunately I failed to save anyone, and I was made into what I am now as a result."

It was almost like a high-speed chess match, or one of those RTS games Alina had once played on Kim's game system back in high school. Fending and defending and encroaching and acceding, all while attempting to gain ground on the other... they were hinting at their true natures but withholding vital data. The frustrating part was that Erik seemed to be better at it; he kept implying he was something other while dodging the topic of exactly what, and already he knew she was cybernetic while about him she was in the dark.

Arglbargle.

Almost mimicking her own knuckle flexes, Erik clentched his fist, glancing down at his flesh almost as if he was admiring it; being thankful that it was still there. "I suppose I don't know if I should say sorry or not. It seems as if you were heading down that path regardless... Unfortunately it is people who think that technology trumps flesh that are the reason I am this way."

Her cheeks reddened, reddened bright and crimson, her eyelids narrowed to slit, that kind of primate ignorance, that kind of provincial reasoning, she should have known, she should have seen this coming, that blatant willful lack of understanding, that refusal to comprehend, stupid stupid stupid Paleolithic generalisation.

"'To be more than human is to be human?' How can you even explain such a phrase? It began with only the necessary enhancements. Wooden teeth, fake appendages to amputees. Then came the face lifts, the tummy tucks, the hair plugs. Vanity. Now People want to throw away what makes them human altogether. In five billion years whatever humans are left will be nothing but a flat piece of skin with a face and a brain in a jar... This isn't natural evolution."

She twitched. And clutched her head with her hands, and found herself unable to process so much stupidity all at once. She hadn't been this infuriated since that accursed Bear stole her idea for that--

Erik continued, the gravity of his words showing that this had been a subject weighing on his mind for a good while. He looked to Kim once again, staring into her eyes, almost feeling sorry now for that mechanical implant that gazed back at him.

"If anything is sacred, the human body is sacred..." He ended quietly, almost as if it was only to himself. He then took a large sigh and shook his head.

Both eyes, the one she'd been born with and the one she'd birthed, glowered back at him.

"It sounds like you risked your life for a noble cause. For that I admire you. However I think we have different viewpoints on how we should better ourselves..."

She laughed. Bitterly. But first things first.

Frowning, she attempted again to run etymological analysis on "mez," and came up short. "'Mez.' Explain."

She wouldn't engage him in this idiotic debate until he at least established a glossary for his vernacular.

"Oh.." He paused, scratching his hair a bit. "I forgot some of those terms might be new to you. Uh, mez.. Mezzode. Cyborg. City slang, I guess...

Being entirely a machine... For me, all the thought stirs up is horror... Tell me, can that arm of yours actually feel? And not just 'sense' but... feel? Like your flesh hand can?"

"'Mezzode,'" she pursed her lips. "Implying transition. Shoulda figured."

But then her expression again deepened, again darkened, arms akimbo, and held up her mechanical hand towards his face. "'Sense.' 'Feel.' These terms are semantic. You're-- you're talking about qualia. Immaterial sensations. The difference between my sensory inputs and yours, it's so subjective it's patently ridiculous. That's like trying to figure out if you see the colour blue bluer than I do, or if you taste green tea better than I do-- which, considering you're puffing away on those toxin-sticks and coating your papillae with residue, probably you don't. Suffice it to say, my prosthetic limbs provide me with the exact same quantifiable range of strength and sensation as your average organic limbs. So-- so there."

She wasn't finished. She was just getting warmed up.

Gesticulating emphatically, she walked in a tight little circle beside him, paced, continuing to glower and smoulder like a torch in a sconce. "Yeah, I risked my life for a noble cause. I saved a bunch of lives in the process, but mostly I was just trying to save the future of humanity from falling into the hands of closed-minded throwback savages who didn't know what to do with paradise when they'd had it handed to them on a silver platter, figurative axolotls who refused to neotenise; rather than realising they were outmoded and obsolete and irrelevant they tried to conquer a spacetime in which they were still something special and thereby derail the course of our development."

Her head whipped around to lock onto him, her blood was pounding in her ears. "'To be more than human is to be human,'" she reminded him. "That's what that means. It means that the nature and the duty of humanity is to strive for the next improvement, to unlock the next achievement, that's what that means, but you'd rather have us stagnate, you'd rather have us-- you'd rather have us brine ourselves in pondwater!"

She scoffed, so very bitterly. "'The human body is sacred.' Really. The flaws in the design are so glaring as to be obvious to a preschooler. Leaving aside the obsolescence of such terms as 'sacred' and 'profane,' look around you at the species in this world. We have animals that can run as fast as cars and exist at the fringes of the biosphere, our direct primate cousins are stronger than we are physically, our senses are dull our flesh is weak but our spirit-- our spirit."

Shaking her head sharply, she squared her shoulders. "The human mind is sacred. The mind. I'm not talking about-- getting mammary enhancements so you can cosplay Jeffersonia. I'm not talking about some Ponce de Leon pipe dream of looking young forever so that you can 'score' with the 'hotties,' I'm talking about keeping the mind alive. Natural evolution is mindless, brainless, without direction or conscience or cognizance of consequence, it's not proactive it's reactive-- you'd really trust the future of your species to a process like that? Not to mention, defending the sum total knowledge of humanity against Extinction Level Events. We have the intelligence to protect ourselves, our learning and our reasoning, we have the ultimate tools at our disposal, and that's our minds, that's what'll carry on the species into the future when our supposedly sacred bodies are returned to the discarded stardust from whence they were assembled."

She grunted. "Clark Gable had porcelain teeth because he had his own extracted; Marilyn Monroe was a fabricated image which became a cultural icon, but I'm not talking about looking cool on TV."

Gesturing sharply to her hand, she blinked and tears began to spill down her face, betraying the rage and the bitterness she felt regarding people's collective reaction to her appearance: "YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD HAVE PUT THIS ON MY BODY IF I WERE HALFWAY CONCERNED WITH LOOKING COOL?"

She whirled away, steepling mechanical fingers against the bridge of her nose. "Jesus. God."

Staring out into the dust and the gloaming gathering darkness, she stood there for a moment, tears running bittersweet and salty down her face.

"The writers of 'Doctor Who' are idiots," she growled. "Taking control of your body like that flat-faced brain-jarred lady, even asserting control over one's gender, this is everyone's right, this is everyone's privilege, they made it look like the ultimate extension of masturbatory self-infatuation. And the Cybermen! Why are The Cybermen villains? They lock themselves in metal bodies to survive, and that so-called Doctor spurns them and blows them up for it, he'd prefer that they die out? And he's supposed to be a hero? Bullshit."

She wiped at her nose with her sleeve, infuriated that it had started to run, infuriated at her display of vulnerable emotion. "It's about choice. I choose not to let evolution and faulty biology and age and an untrustworthy universe kill me off any more than I would let time-travelling idiots kill me. If we are born feeling out of place in our own bodies, isn't it our right as a sentient species to find a body that we don't feel... out of place in?"

But then her expression again deepened, again darkened, arms akimbo, and held up her mechanical hand towards his face. "'Sense.' 'Feel.' These terms are semantic. You're-- you're talking about qualia. Immaterial sensations. The difference between my sensory inputs and yours, it's so subjective it's patently ridiculous. That's like trying to figure out if you see the colour blue bluer than I do, or if you taste green tea better than I do-- which, considering you're puffing away on those toxin-sticks and coating your papillae with residue, probably you don't. Suffice it to say, my prosthetic limbs provide me with the exact same quantifiable range of strength and sensation as your average organic limbs. So-- so there."


This initial response mostly served to raise an eyebrow of the taller man before stopping in his tracks once again. In all honesty, he was becoming a bit lost. For such a small girl she could speak quite a great deal in one breath. "A simple yes or no would have sufficed..." He muttered, now feeling a bit meek for even having asked in the first place. Or at least asked in the way he had. Though, perhaps fortunately, his words seemed either unheard or ignored as she continued with increasing intensity.

Gesticulating emphatically, she walked in a tight little circle beside him, paced, continuing to glower and smoulder like a torch in a sconce. "Yeah, I risked my life for a noble cause. I saved a bunch of lives in the process, but mostly I was just trying to save the future of humanity from falling into the hands of closed-minded throwback savages who didn't know what to do with paradise when they'd had it handed to them on a silver platter, figurative axolotls who refused to neotenise; rather than realising they were outmoded and obsolete and irrelevant they tried to conquer a spacetime in which they were still something special and thereby derail the course of our development."

He didn't want to admit it, but he actually was not sure what some of those words meant. Though right now Erik seemed more interested in the details. Despite all he had seen, what she was explaining sounded like something straight out of Star Trek. The Borg's last ditch effort at saving their dwindling species by going back in time and assimilating our own while defenseless. He was wondering if such an analogy would only serve to infuriate her further... It wasn't like he had any time to get a word in edgewise, however. Kimiko's fury had been released from its cage and was now welling up to unexpected degrees.

Her head whipped around to lock onto him, her blood was pounding in her ears. "'To be more than human is to be human,'" she reminded him. "That's what that means. It means that the nature and the duty of humanity is to strive for the next improvement, to unlock the next achievement, that's what that means, but you'd rather have us stagnate, you'd rather have us-- you'd rather have us brine ourselves in pondwater!"

She scoffed, so very bitterly. "'The human body is sacred.' Really. The flaws in the design are so glaring as to be obvious to a preschooler. Leaving aside the obsolescence of such terms as 'sacred' and 'profane,' look around you at the species in this world. We have animals that can run as fast as cars and exist at the fringes of the biosphere, our direct primate cousins are stronger than we are physically, our senses are dull our flesh is weak but our spirit-- our spirit."

Erik was taken aback slightly. He didn't want to stagnate evolution. He embraced it completely, but modifications like hers... like his... Like...

His mind flashed back to a blurred memory where his eyes seemed to barely function. As the focus increased, as did his horror at the sight before him. A pale corpse hooked up to a dark and horrific mess of machinery and tubes, seemingly strained to the edges of its mortal shell. A woman, whose blue eyes and cheeks were still moist from the tears she shed before passing on. A feeling of pure rage swelled inside of him. An emotion so strong it seemed as if it couldn't exist or be described with any simple words our language provided.

An inhuman growl echoed out, which only enhanced this seemingly impossible rage as Erik realized it came from him. The only distraction now was the pain surging throughout his body as if something other than himself was inside his skin and trying to break loose. Holding back was futile and it was shock alone that was able to pry his gaze away from the lifeless woman and toward his own arm. An ugly crunching of bone forced another fearsome howl as the limb began to lose its familiar shape and become something else. Something not his. Sharp claws began to extend where fingernails once were, and a dark, black fur spouted from every inch of his skin. Then everything seemed to freeze in time.

"Oh, so you did survive? Marvelous. If this proves both experiments successful, then this'll be a cause for celebration." A low and raspy voice spoke out, almost as if it didn't enter through his ears but seeped directly into Erik's consciousness, or at least whatever was left of it. A mechanical whirring followed as a sharp spike impaled the back of his neck and he embraced the darkness once again.


She grunted. "Clark Gable had porcelain teeth because he had his own extracted; Marilyn Monroe was a fabricated image which became a cultural icon, but I'm not talking about looking cool on TV."

Gesturing sharply to her hand, she blinked and tears began to spill down her face, betraying the rage and the bitterness she felt regarding people's collective reaction to her appearance: "YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD HAVE PUT THIS ON MY BODY IF I WERE HALFWAY CONCERNED WITH LOOKING COOL?"

She whirled away, steepling mechanical fingers against the bridge of her nose. "Jesus. God."

Erik was yanked out of his memory by Kimiko's outburst. His eyes were wide now as he watched the tears stream down from her face. He didn't know what to say. He had a feeling that the words he spoke which caused her to snap now were showing a vulnerability of the young girl which she didn't allow many to see. She was in the same pain he was, but for different reasons, and he was, albeit unintentionally, making her relive that. It made Erik feel terrible... He wanted to embrace her but he hesitated out of genuine fear that she would scream and tear his heart straight out of his chest.

Staring out into the dust and the gloaming gathering darkness, she stood there for a moment, tears running bittersweet and salty down her face.

"The writers of 'Doctor Who' are idiots," she growled. "Taking control of your body like that flat-faced brain-jarred lady, even asserting control over one's gender, this is everyone's right, this is everyone's privilege, they made it look like the ultimate extension of masturbatory self-infatuation. And the Cybermen! Why are The Cybermen villains? They lock themselves in metal bodies to survive, and that so-called Doctor spurns them and blows them up for it, he'd prefer that they die out? And he's supposed to be a hero? Bullshit."

This particular tangent caught him off guard at first. He had made the reference without even really realizing it. He seemed to have a habit of repeating quotes or ideas without even recalling the source or that they even had a source other than him. Safe to say he wouldn't be writing a novel anytime soon for fear out of accidental plagiarism.

"I.. don't know what a Cyberman is... I've only seen a few episodes..." He finally spoke up, though very softly, perhaps to the point where she wouldn't even hear him at all.

She wiped at her nose with her sleeve, infuriated that it had started to run, infuriated at her display of vulnerable emotion. "It's about choice. I choose not to let evolution and faulty biology and age and an untrustworthy universe kill me off any more than I would let time-travelling idiots kill me. If we are born feeling out of place in our own bodies, isn't it our right as a sentient species to find a body that we don't feel... out of place in?"

Jesus. Erik now realized just how stupid he had been... It was a statement like that which made him shrink away, almost as if he just wanted to leave her alone forever out of fear of making things worse. Whether it was her father's influence or just sad coincidence, Kim had grown up closest to machines. People were the oddities to her.

But there was something about her... He couldn't just leave. It wasn't concern for her safety. When she said she could protect herself, he believed her. When she said she saved the world, as outrageous as she made it sound, he believed her. So she didn't need him... so maybe he needed her. Maybe they needed each other, at least for now. To have someone else just listen...

She didn't even feel like she belonged in her own body. She'd rather be a series of integrated circuits... She had convinced herself she wanted that. Maybe she truly did. But he had a sense that it was because she simply no longer saw the logic in a body of flesh. No one had given her the reason to.

He had dropped his pack long ago, and now there was just a silence between them as their journey had come to such an abrupt halt.

"I suppose you do have that right... And a mind as brilliant as yours should indeed be preserved..." He finally spoke up again, quietly at first. "But..."

He segmented himself, moving over to the dark-haired girl despite concern for retaliation. He knelt down, reached out with left hand and took her own, the one still made of flesh. Despite the glove that covered her palm, he caressed her exposed fingers gently and glanced up to her, his other hand lightly wiping away one of her remaining tears. "Machines aren't perfect either. It sounds... lonely. You'd be giving quite a few things up, even if it's just something simple like this..."

He stood back up, seeming to tower over Kim now, but not in an intimidating fashion. "Has no one ever really told you how beautiful you are...?" He continued, inching closer to her. He wasn't totally oblivious. He could hear himself talk and he knew it sounded strange so say things so bluntly to a girl he had known for what seemed like only an hour. But it felt right.

Then as if he had seen or heard something invisible, Erik's comforting and gentle expression turned to one of defense as he pounced atop the young girl, pushing her down toward the dusty ground and narrowly avoiding... something. Nothing could be seen but the focused ears would hear the cutting of air around the traveling companions. Erik pushed himself up and reached for his weapon, only to have the nozzle chopped clean off by an invisible blade.

"Of-fucking-course." He muttered as his eyes darted around the landscape. His nose sniffed and he gave out a sudden growl as his hands grasped at what appeared to be thin air and tossing something of substantial weight toward a nearby rock. A metallic clank came from the direction of the impact, followed by buzzing of electricity. The air wavered and finally a form was revealed. A strange bow-legged contraption stood, about 6 feet high, cloaked in a white shroud. The "face" that was visible resembled a ghostly mask. Merely two black circles for eyes and one for a "mouth" giving it an almost constant expression that resembled surprise.

The machine chattered unintelligibly before quickly extending two blades on opposite sides of the cloak which then charged with electricity, crackling wildly as it wasted no more time in lunging toward Erik. The man was quick to respond, impressively dodging multiple swipes of dual-bladed attacks, but this thing, whatever it was, seemed built for combat and it was not about to lose to a human. Its body seemed to contort as it took a position that implied it was about to leap in one direction, only to completely change at the last moment, vaulting over Erik's head and slashing at his back with the electrified blade. The slicing of his skin combined with the shock caused the brown-haired man to scream out in pain and fall to his knees. Who knew just what sort of wattage he had been struck with?

Crimson drops of blood lined the impossibly sharp blade which had struck Erik, but it did not hesitate to bring the other blade in quickly. Stabbing downward straight toward the human's skull...

Then, in an instant, the skull was no longer human. Threads of fabric danced in the air as every piece of clothing on Erik had shredded and his form was replaced with a dark-haired, wolflike beast. He appeared to have grown by at least a couple feet in a millisecond, as impossible as that concept seemed. The wild-haired monster literally grabbed the blade as it came down with his massive claw, the electricity surging through him once again, but the jaws clenched as he just accepted it. If Erik, or whatever that was, felt pain at this surge, it wasn't really showing it.

The machine's "surprised" expression now seemed apt as it tried to yank its blade away but failed, proving it was not just a weapon but part of its body. The beast snarled and yanked back, clearly winning out as the entire arm of the machine flew out from under the cloak and sputtered with what residual power remained in the appendage.

It took another leap backwards, but Erik followed suit, lunging onto the machine and grabbing it by the head. The other bladed arm took a swipe at the claw clutching it in hopes of damaging or severing it to free itself, but it was no use. Erik had another free arm as well, and it grasped and dismembered that one just as easily. The synthetic life form now whirred helplessly. The sounds almost sounded like cries in this instance, but they were soon replaced by a rapid beeping. Anyone who had ever seen or read any bit of science fiction knew what was coming next, but the look in Erik's eyes was entirely feral. His logical reasoning was gone and now he was merely taking pleasure at the destruction and helplessness of his victim.

But before the seemingly inevitable detonation came, Erik's massive claw clenched down on the skull of the machine with astonishing strength. Completely crushing it. The beeps warped and their consistency faded. It appeared to be over.

But the wolf didn't see this as the case. Kimiko remained, and whether or not she had managed to get back on her feet in this time was rendered pointless as she was pushed back down by the burly creature which climbed on top of her. The eyes didn't seem like Erik's at all. They were untamed and almost sadistic looking. It wasn't clear if it wanted her for dinner or.. something else. The moist snout sniffed at Kim, starting at her hair and then moving down her body, pressing against her breasts, belly and hips in erratic motion. The creature's jaw snapped with irritation as it located her cybernetic legs and was apparently unnerved by them, but the rest of her scent proved female.. and meat...

But before anything else could happen, the hungry eyes drifted out of focus for a moment. It seemed as if the gaze returned to Erik's calm and protective one as one claw raised up and clasped onto his opposite arm, digging his claws into his own flesh as if this was the only thing he could do to stop himself in this momentary regain of his control. Erik barked in pain before thrusting his massive body backward and breathing heavily. The eyes shut and the beast seemed calm for now, and within a few moments the human form returned...

Erik's toned body stood naked, facing away from Kim in silence. The slice on his back was gone, but other scars could be seen over various parts of his body. They were not battle-related either. They were clearly surgical... in theory. Some were strange and were closer to what might result from torture...

The arm still bled, however, seeming to imply that the transformation helped to heal wounds but the reverse didn't. The blood dripped onto the sand as the man remained quiet. He was afraid to face her. Not because he was unclothed; that didn't matter at all to him, but because of what he had done.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, but audibly enough for her to hear. He turned toward his bag, almost as if he didn't care what she saw now. She had seen a state much more personal to him than simply being undressed. It made a bit more sense why there was so much clothing in the bag now...

Erik didn't seem to care at all about the robot or that they were attacked. As he dressed, he just looked guilty and dejected. "Now you know."

He donned a new rust-colored jacket and as he tied his boots, he finally looked over to Kim again, still with the apologetic expression, as if the words just weren't enough. "Perhaps we should separate... You said you don't need my protection and you saved the world..." He began quite matter-of-factly, as if he didn't even question that she might have been lying to him. "So if more of those things are around, whatever they are... it would be unforgivable if I lost it again and hurt you... and I'm in no mood for you to kill me either..." His words were downcast, like he didn't want to leave her already but had no choice. Another drop of blood came off his wrist as if he either didn't notice the wound or didn't care. In Erik's mind he deserved that pain and any pain Kimiko wished to inflict upon him additionally...

Kim. "I'm no hero, guilty as charged."

He had dropped his pack long ago, and now there was just a silence between them as their journey had come to such an abrupt halt.

"I suppose you do have that right... And a mind as brilliant as yours should indeed be preserved..." He finally spoke up again, quietly at first. "But..."

She turned and she glowered at him, glowered at him like a geothermal event just waiting to pierce the crust and form a volcano. Her face seemed to exude and extrude the mixed emotions that rampaged behind it, she watched him from that cauldron's depths.

Kim seemed to say, '"But" what?'

And then he... did something completely unexpected.

He segmented himself, moving over to the dark-haired girl despite concern for retaliation. He knelt down, reached out with left hand and took her own, the one still made of flesh. Despite the glove that covered her palm, he caressed her exposed fingers gently and glanced up to her, his other hand lightly wiping away one of her remaining tears.

...he was actually human. He was actually kind.

Her eyes went wide her face went incredulous and her cheek tingled red under the pass of his fingertips.

"Machines aren't perfect either. It sounds... lonely. You'd be giving quite a few things up, even if it's just something simple like this..."

She gazed at him quietly.

Lonelier than being human?

All they ever do is die. Or leave.

...but she didn't interrupt.

He stood back up, seeming to tower over Kim now, but not in an intimidating fashion. "Has no one ever really told you how beautiful you are...?" He continued, inching closer to her.

She arched both eyebrows as high as they could arch.

"(I don't think a guy has ever hit on me,)" she murmured, and this was true. (There was one guy once who'd told her she was "pretty cute," but his opinion barely mattered because he only dug transhumanism's potential to make him better at Sportball.)

Then as if he had seen or heard something invisible, Erik's comforting and gentle expression turned to one of defense as he pounced atop the young girl, pushing her down toward the dusty ground and narrowly avoiding... something.

She hit the ground hard and her immediate response was to calculate the vectors required to plant her foot in his reproductive region-- superstrong her leg wasn't, but getting a kick from a steel limb would still hurt like blazes.

But he wasn't looking at... her.

He was. Scanning?

Nothing could be seen but the focused ears would hear the cutting of air around the traveling companions.

Her eyes narrowed. Her heartbeat evened out. Oh. Okay.

Genuine displays of emotion were a trauma for her. But.

She could handle violence.

Erik pushed himself up and reached for his weapon, only to have the nozzle chopped clean off by an invisible blade.

She grunted. Of-fucking-course.

...and was surprised to hear him echo her thought.

"Of-fucking-course." He muttered as his eyes darted around the landscape.

She watched him, and then her eyes, too, darted about. Except one of those eyes was scrolling through its available perceptible spectra, switching wavelengths at each eyeblink c'monc'monc'mon...

His nose sniffed and he gave out a sudden growl as his hands grasped at what appeared to be thin air and tossing something of substantial weight toward a nearby rock.

Pantomime was possible here but the exertion of his muscles was genuine, he had overcome a quantity of inertia--

A metallic clank came from the direction of the impact, followed by buzzing of electricity. The air wavered and finally a form was revealed. A strange bow-legged contraption stood, about 6 feet high, cloaked in a white shroud. The "face" that was visible resembled a ghostly mask. Merely two black circles for eyes and one for a "mouth" giving it an almost constant expression that resembled surprise.

The scanning of visual frequencies to defeat the nutation of photons applied by active camouflage immediately became redundant. There it was.

She frowned. Much of Nephilopolis' advances were unfamiliar because she'd avoided them on purpose, stuck to living out in the boonies, but this didn't-- was this another artefact left behind from The War?

The machine chattered unintelligibly before quickly extending two blades on opposite sides of the cloak which then charged with electricity, crackling wildly as it wasted no more time in lunging toward Erik. The man was quick to respond, impressively dodging multiple swipes of dual-bladed attacks, but this thing, whatever it was, seemed built for combat and it was not about to lose to a human. Its body seemed to contort as it took a position that implied it was about to leap in one direction, only to completely change at the last moment, vaulting over Erik's head and slashing at his back with the electrified blade. The slicing of his skin combined with the shock caused the brown-haired man to scream out in pain and fall to his knees.

Kim was impressed that he was still conscious. Not only still conscious but still able to make sound.

Oh wait he's leaking I should help.

She made to rise, she made to move but then but then--

Crimson drops of blood lined the impossibly sharp blade which had struck Erik, but it did not hesitate to bring the other blade in quickly. Stabbing downward straight toward the human's skull...

Then, in an instant, the skull was no longer human. Threads of fabric danced in the air as every piece of clothing on Erik had shredded and his form was replaced with a dark-haired, wolflike beast. He appeared to have grown by at least a couple feet in a millisecond, as impossible as that concept seemed.

Kim's jaw dropped.

Conservation of Matter and Energy. Cannot create or destroy matter, only convert.

Metabolising zero-point energy ambient background radiation--

--he's The Wolfman.

I need. I need.

Oldman-Man?

Suddenly getting to her feet seemed less a priority.

The wild-haired monster literally grabbed the blade as it came down with his massive claw, the electricity surging through him once again, but the jaws clenched as he just accepted it. If Erik, or whatever that was, felt pain at this surge, it wasn't really showing it.

The machine's "surprised" expression now seemed apt as it tried to yank its blade away but failed, proving it was not just a weapon but part of its body. The beast snarled and yanked back, clearly winning out as the entire arm of the machine flew out from under the cloak and sputtered with what residual power remained in the appendage.

There was, here, a mild hint, a reflection and a ghost of concern and sympathy for the mechano-man, he'd reaped the proverbial whirlwind, poor thing was just following its programming, but Kim couldn't help but respect a refusal to die except under one's own terms. The Wolf had that in spades.

It took another leap backwards, but Erik followed suit, lunging onto the machine and grabbing it by the head. The other bladed arm took a swipe at the claw clutching it in hopes of damaging or severing it to free itself, but it was no use. Erik had another free arm as well, and it grasped and dismembered that one just as easily. The synthetic life form now whirred helplessly. The sounds almost sounded like cries in this instance, but they were soon replaced by a rapid beeping. Anyone who had ever seen or read any bit of science fiction knew what was coming next, but the look in Erik's eyes was entirely feral. His logical reasoning was gone and now he was merely taking pleasure at the destruction and helplessness of his victim.

She could see it. She wouldn't panic, but. She could hear it in the beeping she could see the ramping build-up of power in the carapace of the mechanoid, but the beast-thing was oblivious, buried in the cognition of a form that had diverted fantastic quantities of energy to neuromusculature and speed and strength but next to nothing to cognition, its ferocity had saved its life but it was going to get them both killed "ERIK!"

But before the seemingly inevitable detonation came, Erik's massive claw clenched down on the skull of the machine with astonishing strength. Completely crushing it. The beeps warped and their consistency faded.

Kim slumped back to the dust. ...Jesus God.

Kimiko remained, and whether or not she had managed to get back on her feet in this time was rendered pointless as she was pushed back down by the burly creature which climbed on top of her. The eyes didn't seem like Erik's at all. They were untamed and almost sadistic looking. It wasn't clear if it wanted her for dinner or.. something else. The moist snout sniffed at Kim, starting at her hair and then moving down her body, pressing against her breasts, belly and hips in erratic motion. The creature's jaw snapped with irritation as it located her cybernetic legs and was apparently unnerved by them, but the rest of her scent proved female.. and meat...

He was heavy on her and he was warm and he was-- he was capable of exerting such terrible force, and she felt herself being examined and weighed and measured... whether for food or procreative recreation she wasn't immediately sure but--

--she held her breath.

She thought he might crush her.

Victor Hugo once got so mad he threw a baseball through a dog.

She wondered if he would even feel it if she popped the scantenna on her left index finger and jammed it into his right ocular.

She refused to panic. Surely its sensorium was sufficiently atavistic so as to find the pheromones of trepidation perceptible.

It would smell no fear on her.

If it tried anything. Anything at all. It would get its eye gouged out and feel a punch worthy of the nickname "Thunderbolt." It would find out why her father was named for a legendary sword.

Before she had taken her mother's name she had been named Kusanagi, her father's name, "The Grass-Cutting Sword," "The Grass-Cutter," and if this wolf tried to eat her or otherwise make a plaything out of her its ass would be grass.

But before anything else could happen, the hungry eyes drifted out of focus for a moment. It seemed as if the gaze returned to Erik's calm and protective one as one claw raised up and clasped onto his opposite arm, digging his claws into his own flesh as if this was the only thing he could do to stop himself in this momentary regain of his control. Erik barked in pain before thrusting his massive body backward and breathing heavily. The eyes shut and the beast seemed calm for now, and within a few moments the human form returned...

Erik's toned body stood naked, facing away from Kim in silence.

She sat up and she gazed at him. Her gaze was clinical.

He was naked and beautiful. She wouldn't register the beauty until later, until after the clear-headed Zen of battle had passed her by.

She would recognise the beauty of man and beast alike but not yet. Not yet.

The slice on his back was gone, but other scars could be seen over various parts of his body. They were not battle-related either. They were clearly surgical... in theory. Some were strange and were closer to what might result from torture...

She curled into a crouch.

She pushed up and rose to her feet.

Her eye's HUD provided diagnostics on the depths of those scars and provided anatomical cross-reference but her brain was doing half that work already. A combination of mutilation and alteration. He'd had a kidney removed and replaced. Among other things.

The arm still bled, however, seeming to imply that the transformation helped to heal wounds but the reverse didn't. The blood dripped onto the sand as the man remained quiet.

She pondered that for a moment, watched one drop fall, then a second. Blood is a lot heavier than you'd expect.

But then he spoke.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, but audibly enough for her to hear. He turned toward his bag, almost as if he didn't care what she saw now. She had seen a state much more personal to him than simply being undressed. It made a bit more sense why there was so much clothing in the bag now...

She made the connection. And wondered immediately if she could devise costuming that would expand with the change. Could she... help him?

The Cybermen of "Doctor Who" were villains whether she liked or not because in the context of that show's canon, they forced the change, the upgrade, on those who did not want it. Yes, the refusers were short-sighted and provincial to refuse but it was their right. Transhumanism was about choice.

If you choose to refuse, well, that's your option to click.

Someone had forced this on him.

The clinical gaze started to slip a bit. And sympathy for the living, the biological living, slipped into its place.

Erik didn't seem to care at all about the robot or that they were attacked. As he dressed, he just looked guilty and dejected. "Now you know."

He seemed like a Conservative Christian who'd been caught masturbating. He'd done something impulsive and unsanitary and "unGodly" and was now flagellating himself for it. Even though it had been hardwired into his flesh, he felt guilt for it.

As he clothed himself, she stood there next to her satchel fallen in the dust and she wondered what it must be like to feel self-conscious for bodily transformations that were hardly your fault and knew that she knew oh she knew.

He donned a new rust-colored jacket and as he tied his boots, he finally looked over to Kim again, still with the apologetic expression, as if the words just weren't enough.

She met his gaze and wondered what he was thinking. She was better than any Susan Calvin at robopsychology but this man's mind was still something of a mystery to her.

Long had she known that genetics was an avenue of pursuit that transhumanism could take, but her focus had remained largely on the potential of machinery and computers. Experimental gerontology wasn't her metier. But someone had managed to manipulate the genetic structure of this living being to turn him into an entirely different species, a hybrid, capable of fantastic metamorphosis. Sure, the process obviously still had kinks to it but Erik could survive a great deal that a mere human couldn't.

The only shame was that this had been evidently inflicted upon him.

"Perhaps we should separate... You said you don't need my protection and you saved the world..." He began quite matter-of-factly, as if he didn't even question that she might have been lying to him.

"Hnh," she grunted, a ghost of a smile on her lips, now he acknowledged that she didn't need protecting, there was irony to this.

"So if more of those things are around, whatever they are... it would be unforgivable if I lost it again and hurt you... and I'm in no mood for you to kill me either..." His words were downcast, like he didn't want to leave her already but had no choice. Another drop of blood came off his wrist as if he either didn't notice the wound or didn't care.

The satchel returned to her shoulder. Her hand fished about inside it and came out with a first-aid kit. She walked to him without a word, cracking open the kit. It was a custom model, including emergency maintenance for prosthetics and flesh alike. A roll of gauze flourished around his wrist, pressing to the wound tightly, covering the slice. And then a roll of electrical tape, gleaming black and cyberpunk, not the white of medical tape, fastened this into place.

"I'm not going to kill you, Erik," Kimiko informed him. "I'm not going to let you hurt me. Or anyone else. And I'm not going to let anyone else hurt me. Suffice it to say, neither of us is going to die."

She reached up with cool metal fingers and, with surprising delicacy, almost... affection... she touched his face.

As though demonstrating to him that even as a machine, she would still be able to touch and to feel and to... love.

But then she lowered her hand and extended that index finger and deployed the scantenna, its tip glowing briefly as it powered up, an image flickering into place thereabove.

"Let me--"

But then she paused and glanced at the holographic display projected above the scantenna...

She frowned. "Hold on."

Her indigo eye seemed to flicker the same colour as the holodisplay as she whirled away from him and regarded the landscape. She paused stock-still for a moment, letting her satchel slide off of her shoulder...

...and then dropped to a crouch and scooped up a handful of the very dust she'd just been tackled into twice and threw it in an arc through the air, it glittered with silicate shimmerings as it tumbled and--

--landed, puffing and clinging, onto a shape standing invisibly in space.

A bowlegged shape with vaguely bipedal symmetry.

Another.

Upon conceding that it had been discovered, the device engaged its whirling blades, having evidently kept these quiet so as to sneak closer without being detected, having learned from its counterpart.

Heuristics.

This'll almost be a shame.

The blades severed air from air, slicing and crackling, and one darted in to sever her head from her neck...

...she parried with the left arm, and a ringing resounded, and she gritted her teeth as the electrical charge vented its amperes...

...but while she was privy to all the sensation of a human arm in this artful prosthetic, so also was she heavily insulated, and the machine limb was capable of diverting energies to storage...

...her mechanical fingers twitched and convulsed under the barrage of electricity but without further ado without permitting the other blade time to slice inward she curled those fingers into a fist and

POW!

Left hook.

The thing rocked back on its heels, jarred, scrambled, its equilbria and sensoria compensating for the impact--

Kim was no stronger than she'd ever been, but even as a fully-organic life-form she'd been able to knock a standby-mode Tokamak Twin silly with one punch. Hence, "Thunderbolt."

As it took that instant to recover, she surged forward, sprinted up its chest like she was a parkour traceuse and kicked it in the chin with a prosthetic foot, snapping its gaze skyward as she, in turn, backflipped through the sky and landed in a crouch two yards away.

Again, it attempted to re-establish sensory stabilisation but then she was picking something up from the dirt. It leveled its gaze and saw Erik standing before it but as it moved to intercept him it felt something clonk into place from behind.

Kim stood behind it holding Erik's damaged gun-- the gun she'd watched him assemble --having extracted a component and inserted it into a port on the back of the mechanoid's neck.

"Mass-accelerator based," she pointed out.

"And now it's accelerating the positrons in your cognition matrices."

"...consider yourself overclocked."

The surprise on the mechanoid's features became as prophetic as its predecessor's as it scrambled and crashed and shut down with a sizzle and a moan.

It folded to the dirt.

Kim stood over it, fists at her sides, holding what remained of Erik's gun, looking down at the mechano-man's corpse.

In that moment, having vanquished a beast with brawn and ingenuity, she evoked Ama-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi, "Sword of The Gathering Clouds of Heaven," the original name for Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi. But she didn't believe in Heaven.

She sighed dismally. And then looked up at Erik, met his gaze.

Walking towards him, she pontificated quietly: "I'm not exactly. Comfortable. With the Asian side of my heritage. Call it guilt by association. But I do happen to know that Yamato Takeru fell to a monster because, ignoring the advice of a woman, he didn't take The Kusanagi with him into battle."

She smiled thinly. "I haven't been a Kusanagi since I was 13. But I think you could still use my help. And I'm just stubborn enough to ignore your wounded sense of martyrdom and insist on coming along."

Kim shrugged. "If nothing else, I'll keep you from hurting people that aren't me. How's that for a selling-point? Plus, I might be able to help you with your zoanthropy."

Hefting her satchel and donning it anew, she placed the remainder of Erik's gun into the bag. "We should go. We should keep moving. And any arguing you attempt is going to delay us from keeping moving, so you might as well just accept my continued presence."

She held up her hand and again deployed the scantenna. "But first."

And finished the sentence she'd begun before being interrupted: "Let me see your genome."

The satchel returned to her shoulder. Her hand fished about inside it and came out with a first-aid kit. She walked to him without a word, cracking open the kit. It was a custom model, including emergency maintenance for prosthetics and flesh alike. A roll of gauze flourished around his wrist, pressing to the wound tightly, covering the slice. And then a roll of electrical tape, gleaming black and cyberpunk, not the white of medical tape, fastened this into place.

Erik watched Kimiko silently as she tended to his wound. He was ready to attack her moments before and now she was helping him... It spoke volumes about the cyber-girl's character. It was rare that something nearby survived after one of his transformations, and if it did, it would run and never look at him the same way again...

Kim wasn't running. She wasn't afraid... She wasn't even afraid when he was on top of her, his beastly jaw inches from her neck. It was an immense relief, but he was still standing by his decision. It probably wasn't safe for them to be together. If she wasn't afraid of him at that moment, then it was an inference of her strength. He surely didn't underestimate her. In fact, she probably was quite capable of killing him... but just as he thought that, Kim finished her first aid and looked back up to him.

"I'm not going to kill you, Erik," Kimiko informed him. "I'm not going to let you hurt me. Or anyone else. And I'm not going to let anyone else hurt me. Suffice it to say, neither of us is going to die."

Another murky flashback triggered by her comments. It was a disjointed mess of images, noise, scents and tastes... Namely disemboweled bodies, torn flesh, screams and blood. Even though he couldn't control his actions in his wolf form, he retained these horrific memories. Knowing what it felt like to sink razor sharp fangs into the soft neck of a human was something he wished he could forget. He wished he could bring those people back, even if some of them deserved it. He just didn't want to be responsible. But there was no changing the past. He was responsible, and coincidentally someone else was responsible for making him into an abomination.

All their blood was on that man's diabolic hands, too. The blood of his experiments. And the blood of Eliza's...

Erik blinked away from those memories to return focus to his taped up hand. He wouldn't say it out loud but the way she fixed it made it look kind of cool... However his attention was quickly back to Kim, even managing a slight smile. "You're making some big promises, Ms. Ross." He spoke in a pacified tone.

She reached up with cool metal fingers and, with surprising delicacy, almost... affection... she touched his face.

As though demonstrating to him that even as a machine, she would still be able to touch and to feel and to... love.

Erik had always been a flirt, and women had touched him in many ways, but for some reason this act of affection, even with a metallic hand, made his heart truly race, and even cause a bit of a blush.

But then she lowered her hand and extended that index finger and deployed the scantenna, its tip glowing briefly as it powered up, an image flickering into place thereabove.

"Let me--"

Scott's emerald eyes widened as Kim deployed the little antenna in her finger. "Huh! That sure looks handy!" He exclaimed, leaning forward a bit while placing his hand upon his chin in wonder, only for his face to immediately turn into a grimace upon realizing what he had said. "Uh, no pun intended..."

But then she paused and glanced at the holographic display projected above the scantenna...

She frowned. "Hold on."

Trust me, I'd like to... He thought, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smirk, but he soon realized she sensed something, because he did as well...

Figures...

Her indigo eye seemed to flicker the same colour as the holodisplay as she whirled away from him and regarded the landscape. She paused stock-still for a moment, letting her satchel slide off of her shoulder...

...and then dropped to a crouch and scooped up a handful of the very dust she'd just been tackled into twice and threw it in an arc through the air, it glittered with silicate shimmerings as it tumbled and--

--landed, puffing and clinging, onto a shape standing invisibly in space.

A bowlegged shape with vaguely bipedal symmetry.

Another.

Upon conceding that it had been discovered, the device engaged its whirling blades, having evidently kept these quiet so as to sneak closer without being detected, having learned from its counterpart.

Erik took another fighting stance, although he felt a bit weakened after the transformation. Now he couldn't help but begin to worry. However Kim's quick thinking had already revealed their foe. What else did she have up her sleeve...?

The blades severed air from air, slicing and crackling, and one darted in to sever her head from her neck...

...she parried with the left arm, and a ringing resounded, and she gritted her teeth as the electrical charge vented its amperes...

...but while she was privy to all the sensation of a human arm in this artful prosthetic, so also was she heavily insulated, and the machine limb was capable of diverting energies to storage...

...her mechanical fingers twitched and convulsed under the barrage of electricity but without further ado without permitting the other blade time to slice inward she curled those fingers into a fist and

POW!

Left hook.

The thing rocked back on its heels, jarred, scrambled, its equilbria and sensoria compensating for the impact--

Kim was no stronger than she'd ever been, but even as a fully-organic life-form she'd been able to knock a standby-mode Tokamak Twin silly with one punch. Hence, "Thunderbolt."

The ninja-bird-ghost-machine-thingy practically landed at his feet... The taller man's jaw dropped as well as his stance as if he now realized he probably wasn't going to be needed at all. She had taken a blow directly to her arm and held strong, only to follow with an impressive blow of her own. He did have to admit cybernetic enhancements had their advantages...

As it took that instant to recover, she surged forward, sprinted up its chest like she was a parkour traceuse and kicked it in the chin with a prosthetic foot, snapping its gaze skyward as she, in turn, backflipped through the sky and landed in a crouch two yards away.

Again, it attempted to re-establish sensory stabilisation but then she was picking something up from the dirt. It leveled its gaze and saw Erik standing before it but as it moved to intercept him it felt something clonk into place from behind.

Kim stood behind it holding Erik's damaged gun-- the gun she'd watched him assemble --having extracted a component and inserted it into a port on the back of the mechanoid's neck.

"Mass-accelerator based," she pointed out.

"And now it's accelerating the positrons in your cognition matrices."

"...consider yourself overclocked."

The surprise on the mechanoid's features became as prophetic as its predecessor's as it scrambled and crashed and shut down with a sizzle and a moan.

It folded to the dirt.

Kim stood over it, fists at her sides, holding what remained of Erik's gun, looking down at the mechano-man's corpse.

There was a brief moment where Erik resumed his stance when the thing turned its gaze toward him, but that's all it was; a moment. What followed was a spectacular display of Kim's combat capabilities. Her movements were fluid and acrobatic. Unwavering. Almost like a choreographed dance. Not only that but she topped it off by overpowering the enemy with her brilliant mind, and even had some left over to make a witty comment. Erik never would have thought to use the mass-accelerator for such a thing. He had believed Kim before about her capability, but it was something else to watch it firsthand.

Erik stared down at the robot's corpse, blinked, then looked up to Kim with a sort of blank expression that would have been hard to read, like he hadn't had enough time yet to process what just happened.

In that moment, having vanquished a beast with brawn and ingenuity, she evoked Ama-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi, "Sword of The Gathering Clouds of Heaven," the original name for Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi. But she didn't believe in Heaven.

She sighed dismally. And then looked up at Erik, met his gaze.

Walking towards him, she pontificated quietly: "I'm not exactly. Comfortable. With the Asian side of my heritage. Call it guilt by association. But I do happen to know that Yamato Takeru fell to a monster because, ignoring the advice of a woman, he didn't take The Kusanagi with him into battle."

She smiled thinly. "I haven't been a Kusanagi since I was 13. But I think you could still use my help. And I'm just stubborn enough to ignore your wounded sense of martyrdom and insist on coming along."

Kim shrugged. "If nothing else, I'll keep you from hurting people that aren't me. How's that for a selling-point? Plus, I might be able to help you with your zoanthropy."

Erik quietly listened to Kimiko's insights. The fact that she was revealing this to him sort of made him feel guilty. She still knew nothing about him other than his "condition" which he didn't even show willingly. Still, it gave him a bit more of an understanding of the complex woman before him. Of course, there were still a thousand more pieces to the puzzle. Did she feel guilty because of her father? Did she resent being famous by association? Was she aware that some of his organizations might have been shady and simply wanted nothing to do with it? Was he just a bad father? Or something else entirely...? For the moment, he wouldn't ask...

Keep me from hurting people... She wanted to help him? Erik smiled softly...

"I suppose I don't want to make the same mistakes as Takeru. I choose to accept the advice of the woman, and take the Kusanagi with me." He spoke ardently, obviously referring to Kim in both cases. "Thank you..."

"But uh, hey let's be fair. It's not zoanthropy. I'm not delusional! I really am a lycan!" He added in protest.

Hefting her satchel and donning it anew, she placed the remainder of Erik's gun into the bag. "We should go. We should keep moving. And any arguing you attempt is going to delay us from keeping moving, so you might as well just accept my continued presence."

"Yes'm! No argument here. You made a good case." He beamed, adding in a standard salute.

"But uh.. can I just say one thing. You? Just a minute ago? That was fantastic! And... pretty hot." He smirked, moving in a bit closer to her again. They had such a rude interruption last time... His words were genuine as well. The generic man's idea of attractiveness would probably be a slender tanned woman oiled up on the beach with a bikini that may as well not exist. Erik didn't really disagree with that entirely, but seeing the beautiful girl before him kick ass physically and mentally... She was unlike any other girl he had met...

But before he could really do anything...

She held up her hand and again deployed the scantenna. "But first."

And finished the sentence she'd begun before being interrupted: "Let me see your genome."

Erik stopped his advance and chuckled a bit nervously. "Not something you typically expect to hear from a girl..."

Too bad that's not some form of innuendo. Would that sort of innuendo even be hot? Hm... From her, yeah probably.

Erik glanced at the scantenna and raised an eyebrow. "What do I do, turn my head and cough?"

Kim. Paradigm shift at the speed of continental drift.

Erik quietly listened to Kimiko's insights.

Erik smiled softly...

"I suppose I don't want to make the same mistakes as Takeru. I choose to accept the advice of the woman, and take the Kusanagi with me." He spoke ardently, obviously referring to Kim in both cases. "Thank you..."

Kim's lip twitched. "Of course."

"But uh, hey let's be fair. It's not zoanthropy. I'm not delusional! I really am a lycan!" He added in protest.

Her eyes rolled a bit. "Your potential for developing a psychological dissociative disorder notwithstanding, I wasn't talking about clinical zoanthropy, or clinical therianthropy if you prefer. Your lycanthropy is obviously a more literal manifestation, which I've verified empirically. I have a... I have a friend who's a tiny bit into psychoanalysis, believe me I know the difference."

Hefting her satchel and donning it anew, she placed the remainder of Erik's gun into the bag. "We should go. We should keep moving. And any arguing you attempt is going to delay us from keeping moving, so you might as well just accept my continued presence."

"Yes'm! No argument here. You made a good case." He beamed, adding in a standard salute.

"But uh.. can I just say one thing. You? Just a minute ago? That was fantastic! And... pretty hot." He smirked, moving in a bit closer to her again.

Her cheeks burned crimson, and it was almost like his assessment of the temperature had caused a psychosomatic thermodynamic event; every inch of her felt warm. But she refused to permit this to register on an emotional level.

Beautiful naked man, beautiful naked beast, utterly Australopithecan attempts at complimenting her, she refused to permit herself to acknowledge that this might be taking its toll.

(She was used to hanging out with Dmitri and his chivalry, or Ron and his self-absorption, neither one of them would ever talk to her like that.)

"Less talking, more walking."

She held up her hand and again deployed the scantenna. "But first."

And finished the sentence she'd begun before being interrupted: "Let me see your genome."

Erik stopped his advance and chuckled a bit nervously. "Not something you typically expect to hear from a girl..."

She narrowed her eyes. "Rosalind Franklin would beg to differ."

Erik glanced at the scantenna and raised an eyebrow. "What do I do, turn my head and cough?"

Kim's back stiffened, and she glowered at him. "No, but you could hold your breath. (At least that'll keep you from saying anything crude for thirty seconds.)"

Her attention riveted then on the holodisplay, multicoloured information scrolling past and logging itself. The "handy" device then retracted, and Kim waggled her fingers.

"My lab's a pile of rubble, now," she mused, "but my onboard systems should be able to crack your DNA. They'll just need time to process."

Without further ado, she turned and trudged on down the chain-track.

"Now come on," she demanded. "We've got places to see, things to be, and people to do."

She stopped short.

And buried her face in her palm.

Jesus God.

And then kept walking, refusing to look back at him.

"You know what I meant."

Erik glanced at the scantenna and raised an eyebrow. "What do I do, turn my head and cough?"

Kim's back stiffened, and she glowered at him. "No, but you could hold your breath. (At least that'll keep you from saying anything crude for thirty seconds.)"

Erik's smirk from appreciating his own joke faded the instant Kim shot him such a look. He then proceeded to do as he was told and held his breath for the scan, even if she wasn't serious about it. Talk about a tough audience... He thought as he watched Kim read whatever that little display was telling her. Could he blame her? Her IQ probably rivaled Stephen Hawking's and he showed his appreciation by calling her 'hot' and making stupid jokes?

Still... Eliza appreciated his personality, despite being a scientific genius herself. There was the possibility she did it just to humor him, but he would have known if she was being insincere. Regardless, Erik was now considering keeping any less-than-mature comments to himself...

Her attention riveted then on the holodisplay, multicoloured information scrolling past and logging itself. The "handy" device then retracted, and Kim waggled her fingers.

"My lab's a pile of rubble, now," she mused, "but my onboard systems should be able to crack your DNA. They'll just need time to process."

Without further ado, she turned and trudged on down the chain-track.

The taller man let out a buhh as he finally exhaled. "Impressive..." He said with his expression still inquisitive. So it really is more than just some cybernetic replacements... There's actually a computer in there somewhere... What else could that thing tell her...? What else can she see with that eye? Would she be able to detect if my heart rate changed? Would she know if I told a lie...? Erik continued to think to himself; curious about the limits of Kimiko's abilities.

She was already a few steps ahead now, so Erik grabbed his bag once again and hurried his pace after her, though he didn't try to catch up too quickly... After all, it gave him a bit of time to admire the cyborg-girl's exquisitely-formed figure from the rear...

"Now come on," she demanded. "We've got places to see, things to be, and people to do."

She stopped short.

And buried her face in her palm.

Jesus God.

And then kept walking, refusing to look back at him.

"You know what I meant."

Erik stifled a laugh. Bite your tongue, Erik...

"Yeah... I think I know just what you meant..." He teased.

She's going to rethink her position on not killing me, isn't she?

Still, her jumbled comment kept him smiling. The fact that she wouldn't even look at him probably meant she was blushing again. He loved seeing her turn red as a fire truck. Meant something he said actually got through to her, even if she denied it... Now she was starting to say things herself, even if they were more of a Freudian slip than an actual admission of anything. Then again it could have just been a mistake, but it was nice to dream...

In order to make sure she didn't have to dwell in that awkward moment, Erik cleared his throat and attempted to change the subject.

"So what exactly do you hope to find with that scan...? Or is it merely your scientific mind trying to assimilate all knowledge of the unknown?" He returned to his normal, aloof tone. However, as he awaited the response, he stopped focusing on Kim for a moment and looked ahead...

Something wasn't right.

"Impossible... The Earthship..." Erik whispered in disbelief, his green eyes wide with astonishment.

The floating landmark... no, the heart of Nephilopolis, which quite literally looked down upon the machine city... was no longer floating...

Kim. "I'm all right, I'm all right. It only hurts when I breathe."

"Yeah... I think I know just what you meant..." He teased.

She didn't look back at him. She only stalked onward. And burned from cheek to cheek.

She's going to rethink her position on not killing me, isn't she?

Oddly, yes: ...I could murder him and leave him in the desert. The perfect crime. It's practically victimless...

The thought was almost enough to make her smile.

Erik cleared his throat and attempted to change the subject.

"So what exactly do you hope to find with that scan...? Or is it merely your scientific mind trying to assimilate all knowledge of the unknown?" He returned to his normal, aloof tone.

A number of things jumbled through Kim's mind at that question.

1) I could theoretically project your baseline genetic structure, thereby giving me a starting point to derive a cure.

2) Your chimeric nature and resilience could shift the paradigm of experimental gerontology by a quantum leap.

3) I could extrapolate the vulnerabilities of your biology and kill you in your sleep. Or just... render you... pliable...

NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT.

She grimaced, and snapped her gaze around to look at him, she'd been too busy fuming to really look where she was going...

The look on his face was awestruck agony, his eyeline spearing past and above her. Her mouth, opened to deliver some snarky barb or perhaps just a shut up, hesitated open in a bit of shock at the disbelief on Erik's face. And then closed.

Slowly, she followed his gaze, into the billowing clouds of dust ahead, no mere sandstorm.

She glanced down at the chaintrack, and where it was supposed to angle upwards to the mouth of the city, instead it... it lay slack upon the ground...

"Impossible... The Earthship..." Erik whispered in disbelief, his green eyes wide with astonishment.

The floating landmark... no, the heart of Nephilopolis, which quite literally looked down upon the machine city... was no longer floating...

There were certain places on the face of The Earth where the compass diverted degrees off of North, where analog watches stopped, where rocks could stand featherlight on end, seemingly impervious to gravity's cruel grip. There were numerous theories about such spots, some paranormal, some pseudoscientific, but none could properly explain the phenomenon.

(Leptons and ley-lines.)

And none. Could explain. The Earthships. Especially not this one.

Overshadowing and comprising the vast majority of Nephilopolis, itself fifteen times the size of Manhattan, The Earthship had defied Isaac Newton for untold centuries.

Conspiracy nuts had suggested this was a remnant of the same ancient civilisation that had lingered in Maralinga before Operation Buffalo caused its untimely demise... other suggested origins had included aliens, or time travellers.

Since its discovery in 1884 by European explorers based on rumours from The Indigenous, and its subsequent settlement in 1892, it had been a mystery... even the archaeologist Renard--

Anyway.

All of this knowledge was useless, like using The Old Man of The Mountain as a symbol of New Hampshire after the damn thing tumbled off of the cliff face.

Unplanned obsolescence.

Because.

The largest Earthship by volume had crashed down to Earth. It was a ship no longer.

The crater its impact had kicked up bloomed with plumes of sandstone dust, obscuring silhouettes of skyscrapers toppled onto each other like dominoes, snapped like twigs...

...the parks were barren.

...the paths were cracked, like The Yellow-Brick Road in "Return to Oz."

The ancient, pre-European structures, so mysteriously evocative of Kim's childhood in Copán, Meso-American-esque, these were all laid waste. Further in, from the outskirts, buildings clearly influenced by the Spanish missionaries, these had folded in one upon the other. And at the heart of it all, the gleaming spires of glass and titanium, robotic architecture practically handcrafted by her late father, these were all chaos and fractures.

Kim couldn't breathe.

She froze. Torn between respect for the destructive majesty of it all-- not even Reverse Moses had caused this much damage to her own hometown, and not even the tsunami of R. Onald Creely's Might-Have-Beens before that, The Time Colonists had been a minor inconvenience in comparison --and between horror at the loss of life, artificial and otherwise, Kim was, for one terrible heartstopped moment, rooted to the spot.

And then she whispered: "Yvonne."

And then she ran, heedless of monsters and robots lurking in the woodwork, heedless of the cholera and other diseases that would run rampant amongst so much of the dead, she ran, heedless of whether or not Erik would follow behind her.

She kicked up shale and shrapnel as she ran, perhaps heedless of even the possibility she might twist an ankle on loose terrain, she ran.

Everywhere she looked, there was deadness, there was death, there were the dead. No signs of life.

She ran, attempting in crumpled streets and broken buildings to find the train station to which D.H. Ron had directed her...

...her blood ran heavy and cold and poisonous, as though her circulatory system had been flushed full of mercury, and it felt as though a silversteel cold cold bullet had lodged in the centre of her heart.

(The irony of this latter sensation would elude her until later.)

She stumbled across the wreckage of the station, eyes darting about in nigh-hysterical, unreasoning panic...

...and there it was. The Kusanagi Wing. Glass everywhere. Ruinous.

A statue of her father, gone to crumbs beneath a fallen rafter. And just beyond that...

...a hand clutching a super-advanced PDA, reaching out from under a crumpled bit of ceiling...

...and not far from that hand, a pair of glasses with splintered lenses.

Kim staggered towards the fallen creature, her metal hand reaching out...

...touching the woman's arm.

She was cold. No pulse. She was gone.

She'd been gone awhile. A long while.

But not long enough that she'd started to break down.

The same could not be said true of Kim.

Cramming the heel of her organic hand into her organic eye, tears running down her face, Kim knelt there in the wreckage of the train station and shuddered to herself.

She felt movement behind her, and she twitched, and she found Erik.

"They're all dead," she mumbled. "All they ever do is die. Or leave."

She gestured helplessly to Yvonne's arm, pallid and busted.

"She," she juddered, "she wasn't even my friend. Not really. All we had in common was-- was we both thought her brother was an idiot."

Kim snuffled, and wiped at her face, to little avail, tears ran in rivulets down her face.

"All they ever do is die," she mumbled. "Or leave."

There came the crunch of gravel, ringing in the half-collapsed station, a single footstep.

And there stood a skeletal figure in a black suit, the eyeless gaze of its sockets obscured by a crude yellow mask. In its bony black-gloved hand, it gripped the silver ball-top of a cane as black as its suit.

"'Sometimes,'" it intoned, paraphrasing, bemused and delighted, as though aware it had something of a captive audience, "'they come back.'"

Kim's despair shifted on its axis.

From despair... to destruction.

Her eyes were deep and dark and her fists were clenched tight and her voice was broken glass in her throat. "You."

It seemed even more bemused, even more delighted by this response, and gestured with the hand that held the cane to the chimeric gentleman that had followed Kim's scent.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

...except it asked this in the manner of one who knows all they intend to know, and all they need to know.

Erik stared wide-eyed and unblinking at the once physics-defying landmass. Only a single word passed through his mind: How?

The paradisaical city of glass and steel, a marvel of modern architecture, full of unbelievable technology and intellect. It now laid in complete destruction. Atrophied by an unknown force. It was incomprehensible what could cause such an incredible city to topple as if it had been as frail as a sandcastle in the tide.

Perhaps even more chilling than such a sight was the eerie silence. Never had a lack of noise seemed so foreboding than it did right now. Nephilopolis had been a hub of activity, always emitting various busy sounds at all times of day and night. Now it was a ghost town...

This can't be. How could this happen? Is this a dream? Why would our train be on route to a city that appeared to have fallen some time ago, possibly years?

Eliza...

"Yvonne."

The brown-haired man finally gazed back to Kim as she spoke, barely able to make out her whisper. Unfortunately before he could even open his mouth to inquire, the young cyborg girl sprinted forward with an apparent lack of consideration for her own safety.

"Kim!!" He shouted in a desperate attempt to stop her, but it was futile. She either didn't hear or chose to ignore, so the only option was to follow... It wasn't a good idea. Whatever caused the city such devastation could still be lurking there. Already they had to fend off two hostile androids. What if they were mere scouts to some new form of vicious artificial intelligence? Kim was strong; he had seen that first hand, but whatever lied in wait could be stronger...

Erik rushed after her, trying not to let his large bag slow him down too much. As they entered the city limits, the stench of decay filled the air. Bodies, both flesh and cybernetic, some already beginning to deteriorate littering the streets. Deftly he avoided piles of rubble and other unpleasant obstacles as he chased after Kim along the cracked streets. He felt uneasy. Not simply because of the horrific sights, but the sense that they were not the only observers around. Somewhere something was watching...

Finally Erik noticed Kim coming to a halt a ways ahead. He swallowed in fear, unsure of what had caused her sudden stop, but merely aware that it could only be something abhorrent.

The ruins of the Kusanagi Wing. Barely recognizable what with the statue of Kaito demolished. Was that what caused her to stop?

No, that wasn't it... Erik glanced down as Kim knelt before a body. The only visible part of it, at least. It wasn't difficult to piece together that this was the Yvonne Kim had quietly called out to before. The cyborg-girl's human side was taking charge now as the terrible feeling of loss began to seep through her body. She made no attempt to hide her tears...

Quietly, Erik approached. Kim quickly stood up and spun toward him.

"They're all dead," she mumbled. "All they ever do is die. Or leave."

She gestured helplessly to Yvonne's arm, pallid and busted.

"She," she juddered, "she wasn't even my friend. Not really. All we had in common was-- was we both thought her brother was an idiot."

Kim snuffled, and wiped at her face, to little avail, tears ran in rivulets down her face.

There wasn't anything he could say. There were no words of comfort. No "It'll be alright". Instead he mimicked his actions the last time he had saw her in this state...

Erik reached a hand up to her face, gently wiping away a few of her tears before pulling her into a tight embrace. Even if he couldn't comfort her with words, at least he could provide this...

"All they ever do is die," she mumbled. "Or leave."

"I won't leave you..." He spoke softly, shutting his eyes and brushing a hand against her hair tenderly. "I promise."

It was a foolish thing to say. How could he promise that? No matter how much he liked her he had only met her today. Yet after seeing what had become of the once great Nephilopolis, he knew Kim needed him right now, even if she wouldn't admit it. And he needed her, too...

Erik's eyes suddenly shot open, sensing a presence even before the subtle approaching footstep could be heard. The rugged traveler spun to face the approaching entity while doing his best to keep himself between it and Kim, momentarily forgetting her insistence that she could defend herself.

And there stood a skeletal figure in a black suit, the eyeless gaze of its sockets obscured by a crude yellow mask. In its bony black-gloved hand, it gripped the silver ball-top of a cane as black as its suit.

"'Sometimes,'" it intoned, paraphrasing, bemused and delighted, as though aware it had something of a captive audience, "'they come back.'"

Erik's eyes narrowed. What the hell was this thing? It wasn't human, that was for sure... an android of some sort most likely. What did its cryptic words mean? Whatever was going on, Erik was not interested in games. He growled in a rather wolflike fashion, almost ready to attack before Kim uttered something rather shocking...

Her eyes were deep and dark and her fists were clenched tight and her voice was broken glass in her throat. "You".

The fact that Kim seemed to know this thing was strange enough, but the vehemence in her voice nearly sent shivers down Erik's spine.

It seemed even more bemused, even more delighted by this response, and gestured with the hand that held the cane to the chimeric gentleman that had followed Kim's scent.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

...except it asked this in the manner of one who knows all they intend to know, and all they need to know.

The thing's yellow mask was simplistic, yet unnerving. The black spots for eyes were soulless, the slit of the mouth seemed to curve into an unnatural grin.

Erik held his hands up defensively, not taking his eyes off the approaching figure but still leaning over to Kim slightly. "Do you... know this thing?"

Kim. The Abstraction Salesman. And the book Alina was reading in "Girl Vs. Bear."

Quietly, Erik approached. Kim quickly stood up and spun toward him.

"They're all dead," she mumbled. "All they ever do is die. Or leave."

She gestured helplessly to Yvonne's arm, pallid and busted.

"She," she juddered, "she wasn't even my friend. Not really. All we had in common was-- was we both thought her brother was an idiot."

Kim snuffled, and wiped at her face, to little avail, tears ran in rivulets down her face.

Erik reached a hand up to her face, gently wiping away a few of her tears before pulling her into a tight embrace.

She didn't fight him. Not at all. She huddled against him, pressed herself to him, he might be the only other living thing for a thousand thousand miles, he was alive and he was warm and he was strong and she pressed herself into his arms.

"All they ever do is die," she mumbled, her face against his chest, her voice muffled, her sobs struggling. "Or leave."

"I won't leave you..." He spoke softly, shutting his eyes and brushing a hand against her hair tenderly. "I promise."

Instantly, distantly, a part of her brain wondered if he wasn't making fun of her, promising such a ridiculous impossible thing, you couldn't fight the inevitable. Sure, it was evident he was a survivor, but everyone died sometime.

But it was such a... good promise. So sincerely and honestly delivered. She so very desperately wanted to take him up on that. Even if it was a lie, she wanted to believe. (Like that poster she'd had on her wall.)

She wanted him not to leave. Very, very much.

Erik's eyes suddenly shot open, sensing a presence even before the subtle approaching footstep could be heard. The rugged traveler spun to face the approaching entity while doing his best to keep himself between it and Kim...

And there stood a skeletal figure in a black suit, the eyeless gaze of its sockets obscured by a crude yellow mask. In its bony black-gloved hand, it gripped the silver ball-top of a cane as black as its suit.

"'Sometimes,'" it intoned, paraphrasing, bemused and delighted, as though aware it had something of a captive audience, "'they come back.'"

Erik's eyes narrowed. He growled in a rather wolflike fashion, almost ready to attack before Kim uttered something rather shocking...

Her eyes were deep and dark and her fists were clenched tight, there beside and behind Erik, sheltered by him and buffered by him and encouraged even by his protective, bestial growl, and her voice was broken glass in her throat. "You."

It seemed even more bemused, even more delighted by this response, and gestured with the hand that held the cane to the chimeric gentleman that had followed Kim's scent.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

...except it asked this in the manner of one who knows all they intend to know, and all they need to know.

The thing's yellow mask was simplistic, yet unnerving. The black spots for eyes were soulless, the slit of the mouth seemed to curve into an unnatural grin.

Erik held his hands up defensively, not taking his eyes off the approaching figure but still leaning over to Kim slightly. "Do you... know this thing?"

"'Thing?'" it replied, almost chortling. "This from you."

"We've met," Kim replied, her voice's PH-balance plainly, bitterly acidic. "He's-- he's a trickster. He's a confidence artist."

The figure snorted. "I deal in abstractions. Things that might be, things of the imagination, decisions unmade and potentials unrealised, hopes and regrets. She's done a bit of that herself, selling nostalgia in that rundown Pacific Podunk, to call me a con would be uttermost hypocrisy."

"You were going to sell me into slavery with that Neverwas stuff, I was eight!" Kim protested. "You damn near got me arrested with that work-from-dreams scheme, I had to hire a lawyer and go to court before I could sleep again! I'm still not sure what your deal was during Lantern Season. And that Vampire Head--"

"Now, now," The Abstraction Salesman dismissed, examining its glove-clad fingertips as though examining a manicured set of fingernails, "I guaranteed you that whatever you expected to be in the box was probably more interesting that what was actually inside. Your not listening was your right and your privilege but all you did was fulfill said guarantee. Which, by the way?"

The Salesman glanced up at her, the mask taking on a dubious countenance: "'Naked and riding a dinosaur?' Examining your later fanfic, it seems you have a proclivity for combining nudity and prehistory."

Smiling thinly at Erik, it continued: "Perhaps that's why you're clinging so tightly to this bit of Caveman Science Fiction?"

Its cane stabbing into the dust with each step, it strolled a bit closer, its eyelets never wavering from Erik's face before, suddenly, rattlesnake-quick, it snapped its gaze to Kim. "I suppose you're both wondering why you're here, or where here even is. It's a parallel to your world, one of an infinity. It is virtually identical to your timeline in every way. Except that everyone alive in your world right now? Is dead."

Kim stared, disbelieving, of course she knew theoretically this was possible, the infinity of possibility mandated that everyone who had ever died could be alive somewhere, and anyone who had ever lived could be dead somewhere else, but the utter improbability of this kind of... all-at-once-ness... she had thought immediately upon awakening that they'd transitioned from one world into another but she had dismissed this, but what sort of world...

As if sensing her incredulity, The Salesman tutted, tapping the brow of its fedora with the ball of its cane. "Come now, you've read this Deep Space Nine novel. A destabilised wormhole, a terrible weapon, a universe next door where everyone living now is dead."

Kim shook her head, and closed her eyes. "Everyone...?"

The Salesman turned in a slow circle, its arms spreading wide to encompass the sky. "Well, of course, in an infinity of worlds, an omniverse, this could just as easily be a world in which not everyone is dead. There could be particular people who, despite utter unlikelihood, survived where before they would have perished."

Swirling back around to face the man and the woman, the zoanthrope manhunter and the mezzode scientista, a gleam seemed to glimmer in the lens of its mask. Reaching into his black coat, it drew out a small manila envelope. Holding its cane now by pressing it into its side with its forearm, it then lovingly, languidly extracted three photos from the envelope.

"The father who died before you proved worthy of the love he never properly offered," The Salesman described, flicking a photograph of Kaito Kusanagi at Kim, it wafted on the air and landed face-up at her feet, he was bespectacled and smiling and young.

"The mother who died too young, who abandoned you on the verge of your true scientific blossoming," The Salesman tutted, flicking a photograph of Serena Ross at Kim, this landing neatly half-atop the picture of Kaito, she was standing in the Honduran sunlight with her hands in her lab-coat pockets and beatific and the picture of health.

And then: "The woman who cared for you, and you for her, and yet you failed to save."

The third picture landed at Erik's feet.

She looked not entirely unlike Kim's mother, when younger; she too was clad in a lab-coat, she too demure and yet curvaceous. Unlike Serena, however, her cornflower-blue eyes had hints of the Asian almond shape, and her hair was gold as though kissed by the Sun.

She was beautiful.

She was Eliza.

Kim felt momentarily irrationally bewilderingly jealous of her.

"They could all be alive."

"Here with you two."

"You could all be together again. And happy."

"If you simply... agree to my terms."

The jealousy dropped away from Kim like a stone from the top of Galileo's tower. The colour dropped away from her face.

And she could not reply. Not immediately.

She was... stunned.

Erik held his hands up defensively, not taking his eyes off the approaching figure but still leaning over to Kim slightly. "Do you... know this thing?"

"'Thing?'" it replied, almost chortling. "This from you."

Erik's eyes narrowed with enmity toward the masked figure. The tone of its voice made no attempt to hide its awareness of Erik's secret, and not only that, making light of it. That alone made him want to crush this unknown entity into dust. For now, he'd restrain himself... At least until it answered some questions.

Then again, the sound of fury in Kim's voice made it seem as if she might take the opportunity for violence away from him.

"We've met," Kim replied, her voice's PH-balance plainly, bitterly acidic. "He's-- he's a trickster. He's a confidence artist."

The figure snorted. "I deal in abstractions. Things that might be, things of the imagination, decisions unmade and potentials unrealised, hopes and regrets. She's done a bit of that herself, selling nostalgia in that rundown Pacific Podunk, to call me a con would be uttermost hypocrisy."

The brown-haired man blinked in total confusion. It was as if the words uttered by the masked figure weren't even English. Was he being purposefully cryptic due to some morbid sense of humor? How could one deal in abstractions?... or sell nostalgia? Regardless, it was now clear that Kim and this trickster indeed had prior engagements, and her venom suggested they were not on the best of terms.

"You were going to sell me into slavery with that Neverwas stuff, I was eight!" Kim protested. "You damn near got me arrested with that work-from-dreams scheme, I had to hire a lawyer and go to court before I could sleep again! I'm still not sure what your deal was during Lantern Season. And that Vampire Head--"

As impossible as it seemed, the... discussion at hand was diverging into even more obtuse territory. "Vampire... head...?" Erik muttered in bewilderment. He was afraid to ask too many questions as it was likely any answer would just produce even more questions like an episode of Lost.

"Now, now," The Abstraction Salesman dismissed, examining its glove-clad fingertips as though examining a manicured set of fingernails, "I guaranteed you that whatever you expected to be in the box was probably more interesting that what was actually inside. Your not listening was your right and your privilege but all you did was fulfill said guarantee. Which, by the way?"

The Salesman glanced up at her, the mask taking on a dubious countenance: "'Naked and riding a dinosaur?' Examining your later fanfic, it seems you have a proclivity for combining nudity and prehistory."

Erik suddenly coughed as if he had choked on his own breath, turning to the side and pounding his chest to pretend as if he was clearing an obstruction when he merely had been caught off guard at the sudden mention of Kim and nudity in the same statement. It was a thinly veiled act, however, and with a slight blush he glanced back to Kim only to avert his eyes once more.

"I wasn't thinking- I mean... uh sorry..." He stuttered, scratching the back of his head nervously.

Smiling thinly at Erik, it continued: "Perhaps that's why you're clinging so tightly to this bit of Caveman Science Fiction?"

The taller man glared as his fists tightened in anticipation of tearing this thing apart, obviously taking offense to yet more inferences to his primal side while kind of ignoring the hypocrisy in his reactions. "You're pushing your luck..." Erik snapped, though admittedly he hoped there was at least a bit of truth to the stranger's words in this case...

Its cane stabbing into the dust with each step, it strolled a bit closer, its eyelets never wavering from Erik's face before, suddenly, rattlesnake-quick, it snapped its gaze to Kim. "I suppose you're both wondering why you're here, or where here even is. It's a parallel to your world, one of an infinity. It is virtually identical to your timeline in every way. Except that everyone alive in your world right now? Is dead."

Erik continued to stifle his defensive urges as the masked figure approached, but as it looked to Kim and finally spoke up in regards to their situation, his eyes widened.

A parallel world...? Such a concept was theoretical at best. Even if one was to assume the trickster was right, why were they here? Why this world? Why not a world where everything was upside-down, or where turkeys ate humans on Thanksgiving? Why was everyone dead...? Why them? Why now... Why...?

Erik's eyes slid over to Kim once more, curious as to her reaction to such a claim. She seemed to be in an equal state of disbelief, but her silence implied she was also considering the possibility that the masked man was speaking the truth.

As if sensing her incredulity, The Salesman tutted, tapping the brow of its fedora with the ball of its cane. "Come now, you've read this Deep Space Nine novel. A destabilised wormhole, a terrible weapon, a universe next door where everyone living now is dead."

Kim shook her head, and closed her eyes. "Everyone...?"

The Salesman turned in a slow circle, its arms spreading wide to encompass the sky. "Well, of course, in an infinity of worlds, an omniverse, this could just as easily be a world in which not everyone is dead. There could be particular people who, despite utter unlikelihood, survived where before they would have perished."

Swirling back around to face the man and the woman, the zoanthrope manhunter and the mezzode scientista, a gleam seemed to glimmer in the lens of its mask. Reaching into his black coat, it drew out a small manila envelope. Holding its cane now by pressing it into its side with its forearm, it then lovingly, languidly extracted three photos from the envelope.

"The father who died before you proved worthy of the love he never properly offered," The Salesman described, flicking a photograph of Kaito Kusanagi at Kim, it wafted on the air and landed face-up at her feet, he was bespectacled and smiling and young.

"The mother who died too young, who abandoned you on the verge of your true scientific blossoming," The Salesman tutted, flicking a photograph of Serena Ross at Kim, this landing neatly half-atop the picture of Kaito, she was standing in the Honduran sunlight with her hands in her lab-coat pockets and beatific and the picture of health.

Erik gazed at the photographs. One was clearly Kaito Kusanagi, the father of this mechanical civilization. Kim's father... Next, a picture of a radiant young woman. Her mother...

He thought that would be it. He truly didn't expect what came next...

And then: "The woman who cared for you, and you for her, and yet you failed to save."

As Erik laid eyes upon the third photo as it drifted down to his feet like a feather, he fell into a state of shock. His mind flashed back to his last memories of the woman in the picture. Eliza... Her dead eyes frozen in a hollow terror as her tears soaked into her disheveled hair pooled on the ground under her.

Not only that, but seeing that picture of her, unaltered and perfect triggered earlier memories as well...

An automatic door slid open with a fwoosh as a young, blonde, bespectacled woman entered into the hallway, her eyes fixated on an electronic pad in her hands as if it were her child.

"Thought you had decided to live in there." A jovial voice came from off to the side, startling the woman for a moment followed by a relieved sigh and a welcoming expression. Erik, clean shaven and sporting well-groomed hair, stood in a long, coal trenchcoat a few yards down the hall.

"Erik, you scared me... I told you to go home!" She smirked as she approached, smacking him on the shoulder when she arrived.

"Wouldn't make me much of a guard if I did, Ellie." He replied matter-of-factly.

"That is what HE is for." Eliza said as she gestured behind her; A thin, mono-eyed android followed into the hall. "To give you a break once in a while. You know, so you can... sleep. You are aware of the body's necessity for energy replenishment, right?"

Erik grimaced a bit at the sight of the robot. He didn't totally trust them. Not with Eliza's life, at least.

"I am-" The robot began to speak only to get pushed back into the room by Erik, the door sliding shut immediately afterward. "Error..." It concluded, voice muffled by the door.

"Sleep is for suckers. I wouldn't get to see you, then. Well... maybe in dreams, but that's not quite the same." He smirked as he rested a hand against the wall. Eliza rolled her eyes but couldn't help let a smile slip through.

Erik took this as a cue, leaning in slowly until his lips met with hers, locking into a soft, sensual kiss. The blonde scientist moaned softly but as she regained her composure she backed away. "We can't... You know that..."

"Why...?" Erik exhaled with sorrow.

"You KNOW why... Dr. Kroger forbids it. His associates need minimal distraction. You're a good man, Erik.. but this work is important to me. We're making breakthroughs. If he knew about our time together we'd be terminated immediately.

We had some fun... That's all... Now it's over. You should find someone who can genuinely make you happy. Don't confuse this little tryst for love."

Eliza ducked under Erik's arm and proceeded to walk down the hallway. Each echo of her heels just another smack to the head waking him up and introducing him to reality... She was right. That's all there was to it. He respected her too much to risk her career when she didn't even feel the same way... He'd continue to be her guard and friend. The least he could do was make sure she was safe...

This memory and the masked figure's reminder of his failure nearly awakened the slumbering beast within... He could only fall to his knees and clench his teeth as hard as he possibly could, mustering all his strength to hold back.

Not now... He thought as his eyes began to water. After a few deep breaths he began to calm.

"They could all be alive."

"Here with you two."

"You could all be together again. And happy."

"If you simply... agree to my terms."

Erik remained silent, running his fingers over the picture beneath him... Then he stood up, the rush of sadness gone and instead replaced by fury as his gaze nearly bore holes into the masked stranger.

"You'll have to forgive me..." Erik began, his voice gruff and fierce. "A life surrounded by scientists and inventors in a city of vast technology has made me a bit of a skeptic when approached with concepts that fall into the "too good to be true" category. Needless to say, this applies...

I'm a bit more inclined to believe Kim's description of you. Your appearance, your voice, your demeanor... it all screams con man.

But I'll humor the idea for a moment. Let's say you can do what you claim. What are these terms?"

Kim. The Salesman. "In the absence of Martyrs there's the presence of Thieves."

He could only fall to his knees and clench his teeth as hard as he possibly could, mustering all his strength to hold back.

Not now... He thought as his eyes began to water. After a few deep breaths he began to calm.

"They could all be alive."

"Here with you two."

"You could all be together again. And happy."

"If you simply... agree to my terms."

Erik remained silent, running his fingers over the picture beneath him... Then he stood up, the rush of sadness gone and instead replaced by fury as his gaze nearly bore holes into the masked stranger.

Kim blinked her eyes. She'd gone away. Gone to a place before and beyond Honduras, locked away in a locket when both of her parents were smiling either side of her. A place she'd almost forgotten she'd missed.

A locket emblematic of memories from her past which had once unlocked memories of the future...

But the seething agony of her unlikely comrade in arms, her unlikely Science Fiction Caveman, his struggle back to sanity and his denial of his hindbrain in favour of his forebrain, this woke her back up. Neither memories of past nor future but awareness of present.

She was here again. And she was listening.

"You'll have to forgive me..." Erik began, his voice gruff and fierce. "A life surrounded by scientists and inventors in a city of vast technology has made me a bit of a skeptic when approached with concepts that fall into the "too good to be true" category. Needless to say, this applies...

I'm a bit more inclined to believe Kim's description of you. Your appearance, your voice, your demeanor... it all screams con man.

But I'll humor the idea for a moment. Let's say you can do what you claim. What are these terms?"

The Abstraction Salesman stood there for a moment, stood still, seeming to drink in the anguish he'd unleashed in the genetic hybrid that had come so near to falling. "I don't have to forgive you. Forgiveness costs extra."

And he began: "Whether you succeed or not in forging new bonds with them with whom you're to be reunited-- always there is the risk that in the light of day these will not be the people you think you remember --you are to remain here. You are never to attempt to return to the world from which you came."

The Salesman stood there with both his hands folded upon the ball-top cane, the cane stabbed firm into the dust. "In exchange for this second chance with your beloved ones, I have free rein to do what I like with whatever futures you would have had in that world. All these successes you were supposed to have in the shining jewel of Nephilopolis. This... vengeance, bringing a terror to justice. This career in Science, making a name for yourself beyond a father's daunting legacy. Win or lose, succeed or fail, your unrealised potentials will be mine to keep."

Kim murmured: "All I've ever ever done is lose. My earliest memory, even my imaginary friends turned out to be enemies. My first kiss, I regurgitated on him. I couldn't even crash my prom right."

Her voice grew stronger. "All I've ever done is lose! Every time I've thought I was going to win, it's been like-- it's been like Zeno's Paradox, I can only ever advance by half, I never ever get there. All. I've. Ever. Done."

Hands clawing at her head, she laughed a bitter laugh. "You're saying I could win this time, but I'm not going to get to keep it?"

The mask's eyes appeared to narrow at her. "Why travail for a victory that could never come, when you have the chance to have a love that you will never have again?"

"The past has been observed," Kim mumbled, obviously fighting herself, biting her lip and scrunching shut her eyes, "it's no longer in a state of superposition, it's collapsed like a bad wave function into set events, it's locked in place, you can't go back you can't go back you can't fix anything. Even if you did go back, all you'd do is create a new timeline, a divergence, your own past would stay unchanged--"

She struggled, she fought herself hard, locked into a recursive loop: "You can't go back. You can't go back. You can't go back."

The Abstraction Salesman watched her through a masked face that looked like a job well done, like it was only a matter of time before she fractured and gave in to the concepts with which she was wrestling; her misanthropy had fundamental root causes and he'd just stabbed into the centre of them.

Then he swung his gaze around to Erik, and he seemed to take on an... imploring look.

"You miss the way she tastes. Your Eliza. Her lips on yours."

"How much sweeter would she taste now? Her absence has made the heart grow fonder, and your taste-buds, nasty smoking habit aside, are so much more potent now."

"You miss the way she smells, the way she always seemed to smell magnificent even without perfumes or fancy shampoos. How much sharper your sense of smell... how much lovelier the scent of her would be."

"Just to breathe her in. If only just once more."

"You never would have found him again. A city this gigantic? You could spend your whole life hunting for him and not find a trace."

"Better this way. Living your life able to breathe her in, instead of wasting away in fruitlessness."

"What do you say?"

He held out his gloved hand to Erik, what amounted to a grandfatherly twinkle in his masked eye.

"Shake on it? Like gentlemen?"