[b]Ascalon Isles, 10 months ago[/b] Under the bright blue sky of the tropical Ascalon Isles, Kimberly was sitting at the bar with his friends, watching the World Series on television. The giant spent his time quietly sipping his drink and smile briefly whenever a friend could not contain their excitement when their team of choice was winning, but was stoic for the most part. As fun as it was, Kimberly’s mind was somewhat divided. Every so often, he would turn his head over to the beach to look at the one pregnant person in the group: Nancy. Nancy was lying comfortably down on a beach chair, protected by a large beach parasol that shielded the harsh rays from the sun. Around the pregnant woman were a cooler box, a toolbox, and small table with a water bottle that was almost empty. From the bar Kimberly could barely see his wife, only her hand when she reached for the bottle occasionally. When he watched her hand reach for the bottle this time, Kimberly saw it fall off the table and on to the white sand. The man jumped from his chair and excused himself before grabbing a new bottle and rushing down to the beach to his wife. Nancy shifted her legs to the side of the chair and was ready stand up to retrieve the plastic container when her husband came running to her side. Her turquoise eyes widened with surprise at the sight of Kimberly before she frowned at him. “You again? Didn’t I say go have fun with your friends? I’m fine.” From the tone of her voice, Kimberly could tell that Nancy was not truly upset. Kimberly knelt down to give her the unopened water bottle and picked up the one that fell to the ground. “Just… checking up… on you.” Kimberly looked at the empty water bottle and crushed it in his hands. “You checked up on me five minutes ago.” “I did?” “Yeeees, you did.” Nancy opened the cooler at her feet to show how full the box was with ice and water bottles. “You just refilled this. Remember?” “Sorry…” Kimberly paused for a while. “Just… worried.” Nancy smiled, “I promised that I would scream at the top of my lungs if something happened. You can start to worry when I do that. Until then! Spend time with your friends!” Kimberly was about to protest when Nancy’s face brightened up when she saw something. She waved her hand to someone, “Emily! Emily! Sorry, can you come over here?” Kimberly turned his head to see Emily walking towards the newlyweds. Nancy turned her smile to Emily, “sorry Emily, would you mind kidnapping Kim here for awhile? He’s been pampering me all day.” She turned to the other side of the bench chair to fish out a camera and gave it to Kimberly. As Kimberly stared down at the single‐lens reflex camera in his giant hands, Nancy continued, “go take some pictures for Nana, Maw maw, and---…” Nancy tried again, “Nana and Maw maw. I’m sure they’d love some pictures.” Emily gave Nancy a smile in return. She was wearing a loose, flowery top, jean shorts, big sunglasses and sandals. "Sure," she said, "I'll save you from the horror of his doting." Nancy giggled, "my savior!" She pushed Kimberly lightly, "now go. Before I shoot you with my water gun." "Bu---..." "According to Freddie, my water gun hurts." Kimberly sighed and turned to Emily, "shall we?" Emily laughed. "Let's shall." They walked along the bright, white, shockingly clean beach. It was the color of Emily's hair, Kim thought, but didn't say. He was never sure how touchy she was about that. The waves falling on the shore were mostly foam and clear water; they pulled the sand out to sea and brought it back in again. There wasn't much in the way of animals - not even a jellyfish washed up on shore - so it was oddly quiet. Just their footsteps and the sound of the waves. "Nana and maw-maw?" Emily said. "Do you call them that too?" Kimberly nodded. As long as he could remember, he had always been calling his grandparents that. If there was a time when they were called something different, it was long forgotten. He held up the camera and snapped a few shots of the ocean. "Take one of me?" Emily asked. "Gotta prove to my dad I'm having fun." The lens of the camera moved towards Emily's direction. Without a warning, Kimberly pressed the button. [i]Click.[/i] Emily blinked and stepped back. "I meant-- let me, like, figure out where to stand, first," she said. "Don't keep that." A hint of a smirk crossed the giant face, "where... do you want... to take it?" "Delete that one first!" "How about..." the giant looked around the area then pointed at a spot near by, "over there?" "Stop changing the subject!" she said, hopping to grab for the camera, "Gimme it." Kimberly held the camera high into the air and out of Emily's reach. "Emily." He finally said when the jumping contest lasted for a minute. "It's on film... can't delete film... Unless... you want to... destroy other pictures." "Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "Digital cameras are a thing, you know." The giant lowered his arm and rubbed the camera gently with his thumb. "I know," he whispered. "That's why... every shot counts... well... my mother thought so... at least." Kimberly looked at Emily, "where do you... want to take it?" She found some reeds growing at the edge of the sand, and gestured to Kim. "Stand here," she said. "I'll stand back by the waves." Right as Kimberly got ready to take a picture, his eyes peeled away from the camera to look off in a different direction. He thought he had heard something. Something that was in pain. He was sure Emily couldn't hear it, but he asked the question anyways, "do you... hear... that?" "What?" Emily said. "Kitty cat." Kimberly paused, "as in... not... Kat. A... cat... feline." "Oh... where?" Silently, Kimberly guided Emily away from the beach towards an area where tall grass and short bushes grew. As they got closer, the sound of a cat's cries became more apparent. It did not take long to find the wounded cat hidden under the shadow of a bush. Emily stared at it. It was a tiny calico cat, with little white feet. It was bleeding from a wound near its neck. Its mewls were tiny, pitiful. "Something must have attacked it," she said. Automatically, Kimberly felt the urge to check how bad the wound was and reached for the creature only to be pawed at. Kimberly pulled back his hand, then looked at it. At first he didn't see anything, but slowly, thin red lines appeared on his skin, "sorry." The giant apologized to the cat, "didn't... mean to scare you." "It's dying, Kim," Emily said. "There's no way it's gonna make it." "Yes it can. We just need to give it immediate medical attention. It can make it." Kimberly said clearly and firmly as he stared at the dying cat in front of him. "It can make it..." [i]We can save it... it can live... we just need to help it...[/i] [i]We just need to give it a chance.[/i] --- [b]Present Day, Norton City[/b] His eyed widened at Olivia's spirits display. [i]What was that?[/i] It felt even more odd when the loquacious Ghost, the "person" who was the first to jump at any thought that crossed Kimberly's mind, did not answer his question. Olivia's next lines of words pulled Kimberly's attention back at the problem at hand, “we’re not bringing him with us… Kim, that’s an order.” Kimberly held the Storm Guard as close as possible to himself, as if to protect him the enemy ---his friends. The Storm Guard was incapacitated, he would bring no harm to them anymore. Why did they need to kill him? Was it actually necessary? They could spare him... they could save him... they could let him live... he could make it. "Kim," someone said, from behind him. He turned awkwardly, keeping the soldier in his grasp. It was Emily; she was covered in perspiration, and clutching her staff. Her eyes were wide, but cold. She indicated the soldier. "We have to deal with him," she said. "He's seen us." The brunet's hair would have flown wildly around when Kimberly shook his head rapidly, had it not been tied in a pony tail and trapped in the helmet. No. "So? We can... still take him in... as a prisoner." "We've got to keep moving; he's going to slow us down, and they've all got trackers - like our phones. It's a liability for him to be alive." The giant set the soldier down and began to strip the other man's armor off, including his shoes. For extra precaution, Kimberly removed every metal object on the soldier then double checked for any metal objects inside the body with his hearing. Once done, the giant picked the Storm Guard up again. "I can carry him... without slowing... everyone down." "It's not about that," Emily said. "Norton can't keep him, and they can't treat him. And we need you." Cautiously, she stepped forward, putting her hand on the giant's shoulder. She could feel it shaking. "It's war, Kim. We can't help him." Kimberly took a few steps away from Emily, “his wounds... aren't fatal. Norton City... doesn’t have to treat him... I can do it.” "With our supplies," Emily said. "When he's recovered, what do we do?" “We don’t use our supplies. I use my spirits.” "And then what?" Kimberly fell silent. He glanced down at the soldier in his arms. Kimberly would have let him go, but it was obviously not an option. What else could he do but take him to Norton City’s Outpost? They would imprison him, interrogate him, and maybe even torture him. He may not live long as a POW. It may be a slow and agonizing death… or maybe he will survive. When the war was over, he might be able to go back to who ever he left back home. Or they could end it now, destroying any future he might have had. “We… take him… to the outpost... they might be able to get... something... from him.” Emily thought about this. She glanced over her shoulder at the body of the other soldier, the one she had killed minutes before, then looked to Kim. "If we take him to the outpost, he's a liability," she repeated. "And they won't treat him well. Just... leave him here. Okay?" He stared at Emily. [i]“Leave him here”?[/i] Did he hear her right? The helmet hid his ugly smile from the world. He wanted to hug Emily. He had expected that no one would even suggest letting the soldier go. Kimberly nodded his head quickly. “I… I’ll go drop him off... somewhere,” Kimberly said excitedly before running off to a random direction before he allowed anyone else to have a chance to protest. “Kim,” his roommate’s voice said in his head, “he’s just going to go back to Nautilus… and he’ll be back on the battle field again… this time with information on WARG." [i]There... is that possibility.[/i] Ghost emerged from the corner of Kimberly's eye and stopped in front of the giant. "No. It will happen. This will come biting you in the ass later. You and your friends will get hurt. You might lose your next battle with Nautilus… and I can’t have Lena dying on me. You are here, because you didn't want anyone to die.” Ghost glared at the soldier Kimberly laid on the ground in one of the destroyed buildings. “He's more of a threat than you think he is Kimberly.” [i]You know what else is just as likely to kill us and we still live with?[/i] Kimberly stood up and walked passed Ghost to return to his friends. [i]Cars. Now come on, let's go.[/i] Ghost furrowed his brow and clenched his fist into a ball. He stared at the unconscious man at his feet. How he wished he was “real”. Then his hand, the hand that wrapped around the soldier's neck, could have stopped the Storm Guard from breathing. Eliminating all the man's possibilities, both good and bad, to ensure Magdalena's safety. In less than a few minutes, the group saw the giant jogging back towards them. He did not say anything in particular; he just nodded to them and started to walk towards the outpost, the helmet concealing whatever his face was expressing. [b]Ascalon Isles, 10 months ago[/b] Emily inspected the kitten. She reached out to stroke it, gently, but it barely reacted. "I don't think it has a chance," she said. "It's... I mean, it's cruel, but it might be less cruel to just..." "To pretend... we don't have... the power... to save it?" "Yeah." "Do... you want... to... pretend?" "What would be the point?" Kimberly stared at the cat. Animals, including humans, die. They always have and they, will most likely, always will. It was, as they say, a part of nature. But… if it was pointless to save a life that could be saved… why did humans improve medicine and medical procedures? Simple: they wanted to live; survive. A feeling that many organisms had in common. If those with power had the ability to save a life, then why not? No one came to his parents' rescue when they wanted to live. “Is… because... I’d feel better... about it… a bad reason?” Kimberly asked Emily. Emily sighed, and stood up. "No, maybe not," she said, but she started walking away as she said it. --- [b]Norton City Outpost[/b] The aching was Emily's first sensation. She woke slowly, fighting to bring herself back into the world. Sleep pulled back at her, and she must have dozed off and reawoken several times before finally wrenching her eyes open and gazing blearily at the metal corridor. She'd had the usual dream, of course. Floating in the darkness, alone with her thoughts. For once, though, she'd been grateful. There was no tiredness or pain there, and remarkably little guilt. She reflected back on what had happened that day as if she were watching events that had been done to somebody else, and felt overwhelming relief. She'd killed those men, yes, and they'd all fought for their lives, but from the darkness it didn't feel so bad. Maybe that was just by comparison: Even death was something, but the place in her dreams was, her own presence excepted, nothing. After a minute of half-awake staring, Emily lifted her left arm, and felt a weight. Magdelena was sleeping next to her, curled up against her side. Emily wasn't sure how to react. She didn't want to wake her friend, but her whole body felt sore, and she wanted desparately to find a more comfortable position. She tried to slowly adjust herself, but as she turned, her right shoulderblade spasmed, and pain blossomed through her mind. "Fuck!" She said, not very loudly, but loudly enough to wake her friend. Magdalena had shot up, bristling visually like a startled cat with eyes wide and gaping, as if she hadn’t been aware of having fallen asleep. Her blonde hair was disheveled, flipped and sticking up in random threads from having slept against Emily’s shoulder, there was a distinct tension in the line of her back before her visual snapped back around and her mouth thinned. “What?” She said, glancing up and over at Emily, appearing wary of her loud exclamation, as if unsure of what was even occurring during their slight down time. Emily reached back and rubbed her shoulder. It felt like like there were ropes under her skin. "Sorry, Mags," she said. "I'm just... more achey then I thought." "Oh," her thinned lips lapsed into a slight frown. "Should I not have...?" She gestured vaguely at her shoulder where her cheek had been cushioned against whilst her face briefly reflected a flicker of concern. "Nah, it's fine," Emily said. "Not your fault. Any idea what time it is..?" Her shoulders lifted in a barely there shrug. "Nope." Magdalena quirked her brow, disinterest there as she watched the troops. "But they've been staring for a long time now." Her head inclined directly to the soldiers murmuring and gesturing, gossiping among their exhausted ranks. Emily lifted her arm towards the men in a sardonic half-wave, and winced at the pain the gesture caused. "Should we go find Olivia?" Emily sighed. "Hopefully we don't have to, yet." "I'm pretty sure she'll come find us," she muttered, vaguely scratching her neck, head tilted to one side. "But you might want to get that checked out." She said, having noticed her wince. "It's fine. I'll be fine." Emily pulled herself up to stand over Magdelena, and looked around. "Hungry, Mags? 'cause I'm starving." Magdalena's expression suggested that she didn't believe her, with her eyes narrowed, but she didn't comment further and shrugged once again. "I guess so," she answered, glancing up at Emily as she did so. "Though I don't know what we can find around here..." "Rations," Emily said. "Hopefully, coffee." She offered Magdelena her hand. Her lips tipped up at that. "One could only hope, yeah." Her reluctance at Emily's proffered hand was visible across her eyes, slightly pinched as she carefully took hold with a slight tremor in her arm. Emily laced her fingers through Mags', and pulled the smaller girl up easily. Her strength was always a little surprising, even though they were both trained, physically-conditioned soldiers. She checked automatically for her batons, and found them still strung across her back. That explained the soreness. Scowling, she rotated her arm, trying to relieve some of the tension. "It's a military outpost, how could they function otherwise?" "Well, by the looks of things," She said, and looked at the gawking soldiers scattered about, lips and eyes in a sullen appraise. "And them, I wouldn't be entirely surprised if most of it was gone by now." "We'll find some." Emily led Magdelena through the outpost: Past the soldiers, who seemed to avoid their gazes when they got close, and into a warren of passages and back corridors. After a few minutes of wandering, they found a makeshift kitchen. Mercifully, it was empty, and there was a coffeepot. Emily started in on making the coffee. "So... how do you feel?" She didn't look at Mags when she spoke. The smaller woman hesitated in her response, which wasn't so much of a surprise. However her eyes, though usually bright, appeared dark, troubled. "Fine, as usual." She murmured, resuming to watch silently. "So like shit, then." Emily said. "Ever since we left the Academy, yeah." She admitted. "I feel like I'm supposed to be nervous," Emily said. "I mean, we're supposed to be nervous. But I just sort of feel tired." "Well, it is a war." Magdalena began, crossing her arms. "I don't know what to feel, I can't trust any of this." She waved her hand, as if to encompass the entire situation. "Is there a right answer?" Emily said. "I think you just feel whatever you feel." "That's not always a good thing." She bit out. "Yeah," Emily said. "But it's not like you can help it." "No," her arms gradually began to tighten around herself. "Nothing is ever that easy." Emily laughed. "I didn't say it was easy. It sucks. But what else can you do?" "Give up?" Magdalena quipped, her eyes then looking down. "Yeah." Emily said. She didn't say how often she'd thought about that. With the coffee on the pot, Emiy slid into a folding chair next to the counter. "Have you seen Remi? Or Kim?" Magdalena visibly tensed up at the latter before answering: "Kim is healing the troops. Remi," she paused and opted to lean against the counter. "I don't know where he is." Emily tried to hide her concern. "Yeah, okay." she said. "But everybody's here somewhere." She cut her eyes through her lashes then. "Why do you ask?" "Just, you know. Just wondering." "Something happened." It wasn't a question. "What?" "Between you and Remi. During the last fight." Magdalena tapped her nails across the counter. "Take your pick." "Something happened a long time before that," Emily muttered. That got her attention. "Something, huh." Magdalena mused quietly to herself, then laughed. "Do I even want to know?" Emily grimaced. "I kinda assumed everyone already did. But hoped they didn't." "Are you ashamed by it?" "What? No! I don't even know what 'it' is. I just didn't want it to be public, that's all." She couldn't help but ask, "Why? If you're not ashamed." Emily blushed a little. "We just haven't talked about it. I mean, talk isn't really... you know. Not the objective." She said. "I don't know why the hell I'm telling you this. I still feel like it should be kept quiet." Magdalena shrugged her shoulders. "Not like I have anyone else to talk to about it, besides you, I guess." "Olivia, and Thael, and Roy, and the others. Roy. Roy would kill me." "I - wait. Roy?" "Yeah. He's always been protective of me, you know that. Since we were little." "Ah, right." She looked suddenly pensive. Emily stood, poured two mugs of coffee, and pressed one into Magdelena's hands. It didn't smell particularly good, but it was warm, so she took a sip. It was incredibly bitter, even for black coffee. "We should go." Emily said. "Find Olivia. We must be moving out soon." Magdalena accepted her cup, taking small sips despite her lip curling up vaguely with each sample. "Yeah, I guess we should. Don't want the Captain after our asses."