The anxious hours flowed into that dreadful midnight hour, and Gabriel found himself unable to sleep. Xanarken wasn’t answering his messages, Maybe he didn’t mean he’d go check on her right away? He thought, and sat up in annoyance.

Unlike other apartments for high-ranking officials in the Council that were handed-out on a temporary basis, Gabriel’s place was well-lived-in, and in keeping with his refusal to view the city from higher-up than he is tall, the windows were completely blocked-out with a different landscape. This time, instead of the forest-floor that had been displayed at the top of the landing tower, he’d chosen a long expanse of hilly grassland. As he rose, his sights went to his overlay; the Elysian Fields night-theme slider was set to night-time, but he pushed to just past dawn, and the ‘sun’ rose enough to cast the bedroom in a soft orange light.

He got up and paced, debating with himself over whether or not to call Ren.

“Surely she wants to hear from me…”

“Rylen did chew her out though.”

“It’s really late anyway. She’s probably been asleep for an hour by now.”

“Or she’s stressed and up late, restless, like I am?”

“But she went to take Seth home, which means the Captain’s probably with them, and that would just be awkward to intrude on no matter what their situation really is…”

Hands went to his waist as he kept walking up and down the length of the room, but ultimately, when he pulled up her name in his contact list, it was greyed out, and that ended that debate.

“…I can’t sleep like this.” He grumbled to himself, and lifted his hands to rub his face. Fingers parted for him to look through, and he narrowed his sights on the imagery of that endless expanse, then turned them around the room, only to settle on an empty glass on the nightstand. A peculiar look crossed his face…and he let his eyes light-up.

There were roughly 12 feet between him and that glass, and he stretched his right hand out towards it. He felt his hair lifting up behind him, and he narrowed his focus, curling his fingers as though around the cup.

“If Xanarken wants me stuck into the Eidolon System that bad, then letting me out again will be a harder and harder ask. I have to anticipate that my transient relationship with it will be discouraged rather quickly…and I won’t be able to practice anymore.” He said to himself, “Before that happens, I need to show Ren how far I could take it… …So…pick…up…the glass.”

And for roughly three hours, he nudged it around the top of the nightstand. Each attempted clasp just pushed it an inch or two in the direction his palm faced, slipping out of his grip like a bubble in a vat of oil. It was a frustrating endeavor, and he was sure his face would be stuck in the annoyed expression he no-doubtedly possessed, but he pressed on anyway.

“I can feel the goddamned thing…why can’t I grab it…?” He asked himself in irritation. He fully extended his arm from where he’d eventually found himself sitting on the floor against the opposite wall, getting a sense for the glass between his fingers, but then closed his eyes. He focused every sense, trying to figure out the definition of the object against his skin, I can definitely tell there’s something there… I could feel the scratchy tips of the tree-branches back at the palace… If I didn’t know this was a water-cup already, I could probably figure that out… But every time I close my grip around it, it warps like melted plastic and loses its shape…

He suddenly heard a thunk sound, and opened one eye…and spotted the glass on the thin carpet halfway between the nightstand and his bare feet. Both eyes opened, and the golden miasma faded quickly. In disbelief, he scrambled across the floor on hands and knees, staring at it with uncertainty.

“…What is thiiiissss!?” He asked desperately, and moved to lift the glass tenderly in both palms. He held it up, and looked to the nightstand, definitively acknowledging the 5 feet of distance between where the item was and where it had landed.

His breath caught in his throat, and he uttered the most restrained scream he could manage.

.

Though Ren had set her HUD to ‘do not disturb’ for the night – as was her typical manner anyway – she was all-but sleeping. She had, in fact, slipped back inside her armor and gone out flying, and to Furion’s chagrin, she’d dragged him with her.

“Why are we going so far out?” He asked, exhaustion on his voice. He looked back behind them and saw the beach disappear under the horizon; they were at least 3 miles out at that point, “Ren…?”

She descended towards the water, and eventually came to a stop, hovering just above the bobbing surface. Her helmet came off, and she set it atop her right wing, waiting for her partner to do the same.

“…It’s 1am…I’m begging.” Furion said as he matched her manner.

“Can you do the override outside of the Aegis?” Ren asked pointedly.

He just blinked at her, “…The what?”

“The failsafe protocol. Can you do it from your armor?”

“…No. Why?”

She lowered her head in disappointment, “Oh…”

“There’s an interface on the bridge that I have to put on.” He explained, despite his mental haze, “Half of what makes it work is that it intercepts cerebral outputs to the body and prevents them from going downstream. It paralyzes you while in use, so you don’t act out what you’re doing with the recipient armor. …Again though, why?”

“…I’m scared.” Ren answered simply, “Lord Xanarken turned up earlier, saying I had to figure out how to let Gabe down easy so he can focus on being Vice. But in the middle of it, I thought I heard him say something completely contrary to the whole reason why he was there. I think Scyrexian’s starting to mess with my perception.”

The comment was rather sobering, but not exactly in the way Ren had expected, “…Lord Xanarken came to my parents’ house?”

“Yeah. Looking for me.”

“…That probably qualifies as the most terrifying meet my dad moment I could ever think of.”

“Be serious!”

“Sorry… I’m starting to hear colors and see sound.” Furion answered, and shook his head, “What’d you think he said?”

“That I should take Gabriel, before it’s too late. Not that I should break with him.” She explained, and started hover-pacing over the water, “I was so sure I heard him right, but when he corrected my misunderstanding, I started to wonder if it was Scyrexian messing with how I understand my surroundings. It would make perfect sense for it to twist someone’s words to suit its needs, right? Since that’s what it wants. What better directive to go track Gabe down than to be directed to do so by the Fourth Wing?”

“…And you’re wondering if I could stop you from going if you tried. Supposing you trying to take your armor in the process.”

She nodded worriedly.

“You can’t live in that suit, Ren.” Furion shook his head, “It’s only been a day since we figured out what was going on. You’re just thinking the worst.”

“Don’t you dare gaslight me, Furion!”

“Mmmmmh…” He narrowed his eyes slightly, “That came out wrong. Let me try again… Your caution is admirable, but I think what you heard was…uh, what’s it called…a Freudian slip? Yeah. Just because you’ve agreed to reduce your range to one person doesn’t mean you’ve stopped considering the other players. I’m not fool enough to believe you just stopped liking Gabriel that way. And – let’s be honest – it’s entirely possible you did want to take it that direction. You did kiss him before the fight.”

Ren’s brow furrowed, “That was supposed to be the end of it though… That was supposed to be a goodbye. If not for the Prince, I wouldn’t have gone up to the landing-pad to meet with Gabe at all.”

“Do you not trust yourself anymore?”

She looked up, but then away again, “After being manipulated so thoroughly by Tobias…no. Not really. If I learned anything from that debacle, it’s that when it comes to Limitless threats…one can never be too sure. This thing is like Limitless incarnate. We don’t know what it’s capable of, what its rules are…or if there even are any. …I don’t think it’s safe to keep me near your family.”

“They’re your family, too. Don’t discount that.” Furion corrected, and hovered closer to find his partner’s hands, “If something ever happened to me, you know damn well they’d take care of you.”

“All the more reason to be safe about this and not put them in danger.”

“What do you want to do, then?” He wondered carefully, “Tell Lord Rylen you’ve been possessed by an extradimensional demon-thing and have him lock you away in a dungeon somewhere, until we can find an afflicted criminal with a death sentence willing to do anything to redeem themselves and die with honor?”

“I don’t want that, no…but…”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Then I’ll make you a deal.” Furion suggested, “I’ll stay suited-up tonight, and keep watch over you while you try to get some sleep. If you make it through the night without any bother, and you’re still yourself in the morning…then we’ll keep this little situation between the few of us, and when we get back to Agartha, you’ll let Seth do a full assessment. We Fafnir are supposed to be open to the idea of learning everything we can about the ways the Limitless manifests in this world. This could be our single-greatest opportunity to figure this creature out, and make good on what Corbin said about never letting this all happen again.”

“…You’re already exhausted though. How can I ask you to suddenly pull an all-nighter?”

“By saying you agree.” Furion shrugged, “Pop’s gonna wake up early anyway. Always has. I only need to make it till dawn, then you’ll have a Fafnir with twice the experience keeping watch.”

“…Your father doesn’t know what he’s watching out for though.”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll notice if your eyes start glowing red and you grow extra parts.”

She made a face, but huffed a quiet laugh anyway, “I hate that you’re finding humor in this.”

“Well, apparently I need to learn how to openly enjoy the company I keep, so…”

That made her go pale, “Wow! Using my own words against me! Rude!”

He smirked as he turned her where she hovered, and faced her back towards the shore, “Yeah, you really were. The osteoporotic old woman jape was kind of mean, too.”

.

The following morning, Seth went out to the skiff to make sure it was ready and warmed-up, and was…not in the least bit surprised when he found the duo where he did. Within said skiff, sitting on the floor with his back against the far wall – and still fully armored – Furion kept vigil, with Ren leaned against him on a pillow set to his lap. She had the same ear-muff nanotech-effect on that she’d had when Gabriel found her in the Aegis’ MedBay. The elder had dark circles under his eyes, but he lifted a finger to his lips to signal that his brother needed to keep quiet for a little while longer.

Seth quickly hopped in and slid closer, careful not to run into Ren’s armor where it crouched - empty and idle - towards the back of the ship, “I’d ask but I think I already know.” He whispered.

“I don’t want to worry dad about this situation.” Furion said, also keeping his voice down, “So, let’s just keep it simple and technically true; she’s still having nightmares, and didn’t want to risk bothering anyone overnight if she made a scene while waking up.”

“Okay.” Seth nodded, only to point back towards the still-open door, “I’ll go tell him to just come out right away then.”

Furion watched the teen go, but with a few heavy blinks, he was out. When he finally came to again, Ren was still draped across him, but she had a number more blankets wrapped on and under her – he himself had a pillow wedged against his head to keep him from slouching - and the skiff was clearly airborne. As he lifted his head though, the pillow fell out, and Seth spotted it tumble in the middle of the floor from his spot in one of the front seats.

“Oh hey, you’re up.”

“…How long?”

“About five hours?”

“What about Ren?” Furion asked, and looked down, though he tuned his head side to side as the soreness of his awkward sleeping posture started to cause aches, “That’s not how I left her.”

Seth got out of his seat and squeezed into the back, and gently helped lift the woman off his brother’s legs, “She woke up around an hour after we took off, mumbled something about you winning – whatever that means – and let us turn her into a burrito before going back to sleep. By the look of it, you both needed it.”

Furion scooted to the side and grabbed the pillow he’d lost, set it into the spot he’d just been sitting, and let his brother lower the Dame back down again. He stepped over beside Ren’s armor and stepped backward out of his own, setting it to crouch in a stable position as it closed again. Standing fully upright though - and able to stretch his back - he immediately regretted it and winced forward again, “Ugh… Getting out of that thing is like being scooped out of an exoskeleton… All my bumps and bruises feel fresh all over again…”

“Come up here and have a seat, kid.” Lequerion suddenly commented, “You stay back there for now, Seth. Keep an eye on her.”

“Oh…yeah, sure.”

Furion squeezed his way to the seat his brother had been in earlier and sad back with a pained grumble, hands cupped to his midsection as he tried to catch a breath, “Mmh… What is it?”

“Lord Rylen reached out after getting the notice about my armor.” Lequerion commented, “Apparently he has a lot to talk about regarding recruiting, so he’s going to meet us when we get to the city.”

“I see. Is he doing to split our focus or something?”

“I don’t think so. I hope I didn’t overstep when I told him why you had asked for my help; he seemed sympathetic enough to that.” The patriarch continued, casually steering the vessel, though it was mostly flying itself at cruising-speed, “I also asked that he consider keeping you and Ren together after leave; for a mercy, he said he was already planning on it.”

“…Right.”

“You’re not happy about that?”

“I am, I’m just having a severe case of déjà vu right now.” Furion said, and shook his head with a tired laugh, “Everything in my body wants to say yessir, like we’re back in the old days again.”

“Yeah, it is a little weird.” Lequerion agreed easily, “Hard to believe it’s been a decade since then.”

“In any case…Lord Rylen was okay with it.”

“Ah, right. Yeah.” He continued, and checked the map briefly, “It was kind of strange, the way he phrased it… I mean, his way of speaking is a bit dated sometimes, but the words ‘give her time to remember who she’s beholden to’ came across as really odd.”

Furion felt as though cold water had been thrown on him, and let out a quiet sigh, “I know what he means. It’s already been addressed.”

“Okay. I thought he was being weird about knowing you and your lady were a thing.”

“…Nah. He’s been surprisingly laid-back about that.” Furion explained, “He even approved letting us share the Captain’s suite.”

“Heh, wow, that’s unheard of.” Lequerion shook his head in amusement, “Just make sure you never get on his bad side.”

“…Yeah, we won’t.” The younger Rydell agreed tepidly, and pushed back up from his seat to return to the back of the skiff.

.

It was early afternoon when that thin blue skiff crossed into the skyline of Agartha, and made its way around to one of the tall landing-spires. Unlike when Maeve landed, however, once that ship was grounded, it stayed on the ledge.

Seth was the first to hop out, and as a subtle warning to the others, made a point to loudly announce that they had a guest, “…Lord Rylen, sir! We weren’t expecting you!”

Ren got a sinking feeling as she stepped into the boots of her armor again, “Ah great… Of course he would come for the grand homecoming…”

“Just keep your head down and let him do all the talking.” Furion advised, getting back into his own suit as well, “He’s probably mostly here for my dad anyway.”

The aforementioned man took that as a note to head out next, and he grabbed his bag from the pile before hopping to the ground outside. Seeing that face and those unmistakable eyes, he got a shiver of familiarity, “Lord Rylen, it’s been ages.”

“Captain Lequerion Rydell, as I live and breathe.” The First eagerly answered, and stepped closer with a hand reached forward. The retired Knight reached back for the shake, “It’s good to see you, old friend.”

“Shame it’s under such circumstances, sir.”

Furion looked up and over his shoulder, then back to his partner, “Seems he’s in a good mood, at least.” He said quietly, and offered Ren her helmet before stepping off after his father.

Ren stepped out quietly at the end and kept slightly behind the two Captains. With Seth in front of her as well, an odd fact about the situation became unmistakable, Stuck in the shadow of the Rydell family…even one ten years my junior… Not that she was particularly allowed to dwell on that for long, as Lequerion seemingly plucked her out from behind them like a stray eyebrow-hair and placed her right out front, a hand on each shoulder, and all she could do was stare at the First in stunned confusion.

“Hiding, Dame?” Rylen asked, as though their encounter the day before hadn’t happened at all.

“N-no sir.” She answered with trepidation.

“You’re in for a treat.” The First added, and turned to look out into the sky, “Given the timeline, you would’ve just missed seeing the former Captain in all his glory.”

Lequerion just snorted, “That’s one way to put it, sir.”

“There it is.” Rylen pointed over towards the spire to the east of them. He watched proudly as that speck started to take shape; somewhat ominous in its color, it was completely black, streaked with the occasional line of blue or dark teal.

“…Hopefully I haven’t gotten too fat to put it on.” Lequerion said warily, “But I’ll be damned if it isn’t cool as Hell to see it again.”

The armor touched-down about 20 feet ahead of the Eidolon who’d summoned it; up close, it was even more the intimidating figure than it had been on approach. Though it still possessed the finer points of what made a Fafnir Knight so distinctive, its wings – unlike those of the modern generation – had a rather more mechanical style to them, and there was more to the physical limbs as well. Instead of simply being an arm-like structure that ended at the ‘wrist,’ with solid-light paneling extending out from there, this older model had a longer build – extending horizontally from the back instead of upward at the shoulder – and bent sharply at the elbow, which itself had a long, blade-like extension coming off the end of it. The forelimb lifted high and proud, and attached to the wrist was the full ‘hand’ of the wing, splaying out in sharp, flat folds, and ended with three long fingers, each tipped with knife-like edges. The older model also had spike-like implements branching off from the shoulders, forearms, knees, and ankles, and at the waist, had paneling that descended halfway down the leg like a protective detached sheath.

Modern Fafnir armor may have been more streamlined, but that previous generation lacked nothing for appearing sinister.

Lequerion handed his bag to his youngest, and stepped up to that ‘old partner,’ delighted to find it open for him as it always did, “Moment of truth. Don’t tell your mother if I don’t fit.”

“Suck it in, pops.” Furion joked, “Become as water.”

The patriarch gestured downward with a hand in front of his face, as though saying a quiet prayer to himself, and nudged his shoes off with the toe of each opposite foot. With a ginger step, he squeezed himself in, and though it was a bit of a tight fit, the armor closed around him without difficulty. Feeling it come to life around him after a decade was a surreal and fateful experience, and he sucked in a quick breath, sensing his movements starting to influence the movement of the machine. He lifted his hands first, and closed and opened his fists, then turned on the wing-optics…and those already-deadly-looking implements expanded into their full fury. Metal blades extended into longer, translucent-black panels, edged on the ‘dull’ side in glowing neon blue, and with the fingers flexing, was like a fan of curved knives. Moreso, since Lequerion had attained the rank of Captain, there was a second set of wings coming off the back of the main set, smaller and thinner from their roots on the man’s lower back.

“…Holy Hell.” Ren said, very impressed, and she glanced back at her partner, “…How come we don’t look like that?”

“Sacrifices made for hypersonic flight.” Furion answered, “That armor can only go supersonic, because the spikey-bites and mechanical aspect of the wings create too much drag and heat.”

“…Still. Yikes.” She commented, and looked back again, “What a literally-terrifying thing to have to face-off against. To think, that’s the thing Gabriel was looking at when the Fafnir came that day… No wonder he despised us for so long.”

Furion gave her a strange look.

“Everything in working order, Captain?” Rylen asked, pleased as a peach.

“I think so, sir. It all feels like it used to.”

“Given the range-limitations on the older generation model, I’ll have you take care of the four families closest to the city.” The Eidolon continued, “Captain Rydell Junior can take the ones further afield. I’ll notify Wing-Commander Parker’s next of kin myself, since they’re way out there.”

“You’re going to participate?”

“I probably should’ve been the first to suggest assisting with the notices.” Rylen admitted, and turned back towards Furion, “Yours is a burden that shouldn’t be carried alone. It’s simply too much for one man’s shoulders.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“If you both want to get started right away, I’ll send you the information about an office I’ve had made fit for purpose.” The First explained, and glanced back at the elder Captain again, “The Fifth has been able to keep chatter about the Aegis’ situation on the down-low, so people think it’s just a cannon malfunction right now. There is no information in the public sphere that there were any casualties. You’re all free to use and take your armor anywhere you need to go. Finally…” The Eidolon turned back towards Furion and Ren, “The Memorial will be in four days. That should be enough time to tell everyone who needs to know, and have transport made available for those who want to come.”

“Four days…” Ren echoed quietly, Four days…