A single claw protruding through mesh, slicing the outer vent cover in exacting need. An edge cut out and frame left wanting. There was no need to be so careful this close to his target. And you can’t really unscrew the frame from the inside anyway.

Micha’s objective was here, it had to be. The reactor he secreted away from the world, out of his enemy’s hands or just the rest of the world’s. It didn’t matter.

What did was getting it back. Getting it away from this militarized excess. Preventing more destruction from coming to pass. And maybe, probably, getting his awesome chair working again. Because that would just be nice after all this.

But his resolve was parting that small hope, just like this cut open vent. One side spared so it flapped open and shut like a door, and allowed him into the sanctum he meant to defile.

Just as his was.

The sterile air caught his skin, chilled him to shrink back. His claws racked the tiled floor in clinking ease. His form pulling free of the darkness no longer able to carry him further.

The black gloss of his skin marred by oil and dust, the gentle green of his toxic sustenance faded by desaturating grime. His tall stature hunched by weathered determination. Jacket draping over in stained acquiescence. Frayed pants hanging loose in similar fashion. Thinning tail only just able to hold it in place. And his tattered pack slung back behind, radio near enough to dead to bear grim serendipity.

But from this full lofty height he could see an end to this suffering at last. Through the airlock's allowing glass. His objective, his prize, his burden, and his charge. His reactor sitting nestled in wires and bright lights. Behind layer after layer of compartmentalization and suckling machinery. And beyond row… after row… after row…

Of greenery.

Tiny stalks just barely peeking free of troughs filled with pipes and glass. Beans and wheat and soy ill-defined but undoubtedly present. Brightening lights shining down and warming his face even through the window. Hydroponics on a burgeoning scale. Food free of radiation and age. Grown with just power and water at record pace. A budding harvest that could rise year round and always churn out new produce. No more moldy MREs or whatever could be scrounged up. No limits but the output of the reactor he’d…

He’d come to take back.

To take away…

To put back where no one even knew it still existed…

Or destroy it so none could misuse it. To do selfishly as he wanted with what he could only see as his. To follow a mission that had been over for decades that he couldn’t even remember beginning.

All his resolve, all his determination, seeped out like he was a discarded sponge in the desert. Fading away as the reality of his actions, even so personal and alone, dawned over his unprepared form. Pity and shame pounding down, beating out all he’d done to get here. Drying him by force like no true sun could manage. If there was anyone inside this bastion of technology not busy and giddy at their finally fully functional setup, they would have seen this lanky towering mander made into an icon of despair. Because there was someone more in need of his only comfort than him.

A shaky inhale, like a full body seethe to pull back all that was tainted. But breathed out as it fouled everything. Tainted sentimentality just seeing that it would be better if he just crawled into a hole and died.

Heavy gaze unable to bear seeing his once sought after prize anymore. Its warmth fading into the fog, being filed away to never be felt again. The cold of the air soaking in despite the radiance escaping through to him. The Green inside his veins welcoming it but finding no stimuli to prod for more.

Everything crumbling apart like so many buildings. So much civilization. Irony lost and pointless. Even his ears echoed away the gentle muffle of hermetic seals on hopeful work. The bustle of revitalized morale on a people given a chance. And the gradual interchange of air cycling for entrance into this intermediate space. Complimented… by familiar voices approaching.

“…ey‘d better be growing wheat first. I haven’t seen a good loaf of bread in… ei…”

The voice of the Dan he’d been following here roused his senses just ever so out of the pit he’d allowed himself to be swallowed by. His head turning as the open door to the first airlock became apparent. As two, more prepared for this sudden reveal, became aware of each other in opposing resolutions.

One already defeated and broken before even a shot could be fired. The other clear and concise with what she knew she wanted. And both meeting as their gazes rose to finally know the standoff over due. A helmet of interface and protection canted precariously over her head like she wanted it off. A suit of muscled machinery still bulking her frame unneeded. And a glare, ignited, as it saw what had come to defile her fairly earned treasure. Her want marked unequally.

There was no doubt in Micha’s mind, he’d finally come face to face with the thieves who broke into his home. Who stole his comfort for their… their more pressing ends. And in turn they finally saw who they had stolen from.

This Rezz and Dan at long last knew the effects of their luck. The karma of their serendipity. As the pitiful creature coming to know his judgment first hand could barely stand to raise his head to the fear and the ire here to pass it upon him.

A flash of tension disallowed, a holster near ripped open for its contents, a barrel more clearly aimed to make that judgment clear as it could ever possibly be. The red glare down its sight just deserved for all that he represented. For everything he’d done to get here, both justifiable and not. For everything he’d wanted to destroy out of blind want. For everything he’d failed.

Stolen story; please report.

“I knew it… I knew something was following us!”

Her teeth gritted and her arm fought itself to not crush her chosen weapon of justice.

“It… holy shit it has an interceptor… It’s got ‘the’ interceptor!!”

Dan’s feet couldn’t help retreat to the rapidly resealing door behind, his gaze unable to stop whipping over every detail and finding too many similarities.

“It- it followed us all the fucking way from that rusted hulk?! …It wants the reactor back.”

Her tension had narrowly abated, but flared like that pity and shame had called a true sun to bear and burn its fury.

“Well you can’t HAVE IT!!! It’s ours now you understand you stupid toad!!”

Vindictive spite crescendoed like a halo over that tainted sunrise. A deeper claim than just food and power long sought and torn over. Seething hate outstripping all.

“You can’t have it anymore!!”

Near enough falling into a growl as that sun came to swallow up what dared to be in its presence. As Micha hanged lower still, and accepted his fate to be obliterated for his blind misgivings. Even as the only one afraid began to see this for what it was.

“Rezz? Rezz wait… How the hell does it even know what the reactor is? How the hell did it even understand the interceptor? This thing isn’t like the other ferals!”

“Who cares?! It wanted to take away our only chance to- to… Grrrr!! It’s a monster Dan!! What more does there need to be!?”

“Rezz… It understood us. It still understands us. And it knows about our tech.”

Dan shifted from his fear, only but enough to see clearer beside her laden hesitation. His gaze dancing over every detail he could see over the pitiful creature that had followed them here. Recognizing no doubt the emergency gear present in so many kits he’s packed. The radio stowed just enough yet missing its transmitter gauges like iy was a necessary sacrifice. But then stoppong, catching the glint of metal hung around this penitent’s neck. Recognizing the shape all too well.

“Wait! It’s… It’s got one of our tags!”

“WHAT?!”

“Around its neck, that’s an id tag. It could be one of the 5th boys. Or Maggie. Or-“

“That doesn’t matter anymore!! You know what these damn things are after they get changed! They aren’t human! And they never will be agai- Dan!!”

Her flaring was ignored, her fury disregarded for but a step as she refused to accept her own holdup. But still it was like a shadow come to shield the undeserving.

“H-hey. I know you can understand what I’m saying.”

“Dan stop!!”

“I know you still remember something. You have to. W-we can help.”

“Dan!?!”

“We can Rezz. If we know who they were…”

A beat, like a heart that had been still and awaiting the death it had coming. Micha could feel a want of his own rise out of the taint. Something more pure, a need to be known. But couldn’t accept it so easy.

He knew he couldn’t accept this. He deserved death for being what he was. For being a monster that dared to try and take what was rightfully someone else’s. To deny it, destroy it in selfish want of someone who had probably long since forgotten him. So deep down it tried to drag even that small want back down.

But still…

But still a claw lifted up to his neck.

But still he felt that tab of metal for all its edges and cuts.

But still he felt that name on its back for all she had done for him in just being a name.

If anything, he wondered, at least she would know that her father was well and truly dead.

That gun realigned, muscles both artificial and natural tightening it near to breaking. Tracking that claw as it moved to behind his neck, meeting its partner and unlatching the only thing left of his name.

The chain clinked, spooled into his palm, into the small space he’d returned to as punishment had come. Its closing edges obscured by everything he could remember, everything the fog couldn’t take away. His mission, his duty, and his daughter spared from the horrors he’d fallen to.

That claw wrapped around his tag like it was the last time it ever would. Burning its shape into his palm and his soul before it could be lost forever. He couldn’t even look as he closed his eyes, drawing that shape and texture in his mind as it was flung from his grip across the room. Clanking across the tile floor in torturous strikes against what little hope had been raised by this shade. And all of it ending in a soft swat to stop it from flying further. Dan accepting the danger he’d called for.

“W…what does it say?”

This Rezz could not hold back her curiosity, but still growled it down as hesitancy seemed to permeate. As writing was read but words remained unsaid. As eyes bore wide and breaths caved short. As penance too seemed to waver in this inability to say the truth aloud. His shade from fury faltering, but not in justice.

In unmitigated disbelief.

The name tracked over again and again. Read as much as it could be without daring to speak it aloud. A new fear unsubstantiated, turning these two opposites awaiting his findings toward him in spite of themselves. Drawing away fury and acceptance in common order. As a known quantity shook Dan to his core. And bade him to tear this tension asunder with but a name unforgettable.

“M-m… Micha… J… Ca-“

Judgment became secondary, that barrel lost lock over tightened muscle bursting down. That tiny scrap of engraved metal snatched away in violent force. Helmet knocked haphazard but eyes seeing too much to dare close. Shadowed face staring pure, mouth agape like her soul was ill fit. Forcing her penitent to face his due now unclear. Yet seeing that tension remount its grip on his heart as she took hold of this truth.

“Where… did you get this…?”

Her body rose, her head brought low by what could not be looked away from. That helmet draping over but one eye, as she broke that spell. As that one eye was allowed to burn his soul for all it still tried to hold to. A fire bright enough to shine real even in this sanitized illumination. A fire charging true with gun out stretched and fury made true nova to punish and gleam all away.

“Where did you get this!?!”

A fury unable to be taken, unable to be withstood for its source, unable to be accepted as just what was due. Micha cowering back, trying to just acquiesce, to appease, to just get the death he was due over with. But the barrel made Damocles over even this said that even death was too good a fate. Too easy a hardship. Not enough of a punishment for his crimes. Not enough to…

To not see that fire dim with reality, as that helmet came drooping over. Too much to take as that shine came forth in streaks down her face. Unable to stand even this small disarray.

That judgment, that deserved death fumbled away. Folded whole and over her head, scooping away that blocking instance. Tearing it away for all the good it had done for her. Flinging for all it had hidden in ripped apart choices. In made small plots, in wholesale treason utterly pointless.

As lock after lock of hair so light it almost turned pink burned free of the fury that once threatened worse.

As those eyes looked up into his in watery plead.

As that shaky other hand rose up its overwhelming burden, to bear her own soul being rendered to straw.

The jangle of precious remembrance being twined with her own bracelet set as is standard issue. That jagged etching facing him… as the other’s words matched it beyond what could be expressed.

Cass, Rachael M.

His eyes stocked wider, his thoughts tore fog and fear and defeat to splinters. His gaze taking all as one like a painting made on dreams. That sun made fire kindred to truly rend the cold apart. Eyes paired glistering souls to intertwining hearts. And making her words too much to stand.

“W-where d-id you get-“

Too much to not spring forward like a trap… and hug his daughter after so so long.