The sunlight through the window wakes me up. My comrades are sitting on the couch, watching something on TV, while Marc is working on the laptop some more.
I decide to look at what they're watching – it's a documentary on bugs.
"Geh," I grimace.
Rurin looks over. "What, you don't like bugs?"
"I think they're pretty cool," Diantha says. "Look, this one can rub part of its wings together to make loud noises."
I tense up, then realize my vibroblades have activated. "Can we, umm, watch something else? I suddenly want to smash the screen," I mutter, turning them off.
"I read about this once," Vernicia says. "You have entomophobia."
"It's not entomophobia, trust me," Marc says, standing up. "Let's go get some food."
Over in the hotel's eatery, there's a fish and fruit buffet set up. There's a lot of food I haven't seen before, and it all smells tasty. Soon I decide on a nice sampler and make my way to the terrace.
It's still chilly here, but nowhere near Sectary City's level of cold. With the sun shining in the lavender sky, it's easier to remember that it's only autumn according to the calendar.
But then, if it's only autumn and Sectary was that cold… I honestly have no idea what people see in that place. Or maybe it's nicer in summer? I dunno.
A while later, I notice someone hopping up the terrace, white-clad and wearing a tough-looking helmet. "Hey! Kit," he calls as he approaches. Then with a final hop, he lands in front of me. "I heard the aeronauts were in town! Fancy meeting you here."
"Yeah, big fancy. Who tipped you off?" I sip my juzu, annoyed.
"The hostess. Selphia," he answers. "Have you met her yet? You should meet her."
"Yes, I'll put that on my list," I nonchalantly reply. "I bet you've been quite busy since you left me in the Seaburgs."
Travis shrugs. "Can't really complain."
"What's with the new helmet? Some kind of incentive?"
"Look, Kit, I'm wearing matching armor too," Travis points out. "Apparently the big boss has a set for all of us."
"The helmet would look tacky on me," I say.
"It's useful though!" Trav strikes a pose. "The B-A1 lightweight mobile battle armor, specially designed for aeronauts to wear. There's a lot of cool stuff you can fit it with based on your preferences and needs. Like, I got nerbo pistols, a combat-reinforced sheath for my sword, a battle knife, and this rad minigun."
I roll my eyes at that. "You come by here often?"
"I try to. I've stayed at four resorts so far," he nods. "Oh, but I'm not actually on vacation right now. I was sent with Kisha to look for Pex. Did you know they didn't find her anywhere around the House of Steel? The rest of Gen 1 are accounted for, dead and alive. The twins are sure she has the protoforms, too."
"Uh, twins?"
"The AEs at the facility I'm stationed at. I could introduce you if you help me find Pex."
The grip on my cup tightens, nearly cracking it. "More of them, huh…"
"So how about it?"
"Hmph, no way. She's probably up in some cloud somewhere."
"Have you seen her at all since we blasted the House of Steel?"
"Maaaybe… but I won't tell you," I coyly reply. "I'm sure she's having a blast out in the wild with her new pals, far away from you."
"Still mad at me, huh?" Travis sighs. "I know I was pretty heated at the Seaburgs, but I promise we aren't enemies right now."
"You never were one for grudges, huh." I stir around what remains of my juzu. "Why don't you go see the others too? I'm sure they'll also be happy to see you."
"You mean after they beat me up? I know for sure Verni will beat me up."
"So you aren't coming back."
"Well, I am on a mission right now," Travis reminds me. "I took this opportunity in exchange for answers. And I did get them, so I'm not complaining. Working with Torblan isn't that bad a gig, you know."
I narrow my eyes. "Another company?"
"It's the umbrella organization for all four biotool manufacturers," he explains. "I get free access to a lot of cool stuff. Answers, too! You should at least think about joining, Kit. It'd be cool if all of us could fulfill our destiny together."
I drain my juzu, now annoyed. "What destiny?"
"What we were made for, obviously – fighting." He starts doing more poses with his sword. "We're so good at it, I feel like I'd be wasting my abilities doing anything else."
"You always were the battle brained sort," I sigh. "Well, have fun dying alone on the battlefield! I'm not coming along."
"You won't be alone if everyone else comes too," Travis presses. "Right now it's just me and Larry, but you know what they say, the more the merrier."
"What, so we can die together?" I cross my arms. "Also, there's no way Larry came willingly."
"Yeah, they had to integrate him," Travis confirms, "So it's basically still just me. But you won't have to worry about that if you don't put up any resistance. I'll vouch for all of you!"
"I thought we left our old home to defy our supposed destinies! Didn't that mean anything to you?"
"Of course it did! It allowed us the freedom to choose our own paths." Travis resolutely sheaths his sword. "And, well, this was my decision. So far I don't regret it. There's lots of good training, roomy barracks, and women who treat me all the time. What's not to like?"
"Women," I mutter. "You mean that sussy lady from the Seaburgs."
"Oh, Teresa? I dunno about her, she's weird. Way too bubbly. Has kind of an exotic vibe too, somehow," he describes. "Melania, though, I think she's more my type. And Kisha will sometimes—"
"That armored exec is after you too?! You're dead to me!"
"What? It's not like that," Travis replies. "She's my sparring partner; she goes super hard. And then after we spar, she would insist we get a drink together. But I say no because I'm probably too young, I think? I don't actually know, but better safe than sorry."
I lean back down, still glaring at him.
"Melania gets me super tasty lunches instead of drinks, but she keeps telling me Teresa is too forward," he continues. "Sometimes I kind of feel like…"
"They're fighting over you? Yeah," I grumble.
"You sound like an annoyed big sister," he chuckles. "Ya jelly?"
"Shut up. Go fail your mission," I retort. Then I look back up at him. "Hey, wait. What are you guys gonna do if you somehow do find Pex?"
"Integration. They're not gonna negotiate with Gen 1," Travis says. "Though between you and me, we're really just trying to get the protoforms. Pex is more like… a bonus, maybe?"
"Well, have fun flying in circles," I wave dismissively.
"Meh, this is fine. I was doing endless battle sims all yesterday," he shrugs. "Anyway, see you around."
As he hops back down the terrace, I get up to walk back to the hotel. I hate to admit it, but custom battle armor does sound neat. The minigun is cool. If I had that armor, I'd maybe get that too, along with a pair of daggers on my legs and a rifle for quicker firing. Or maybe instead of a minigun, I wonder if they have megalasers or chargebolts… I bet I could get braces for those types of weapons too.
"Gah, what am I thinking?" I ruffle my hair, then walk faster.
As I enter our suite, I notice that Rurin is holding Roy's bag upside down. Then he zips it open, and its entire contents falls onto the bed in a pile.
"You could've at least done it on the floor," Diantha remarks.
"Relax; I'm just reorganizing." Rurin starts pulling some wrinkled comic books out of the pile.
"Aw, gross. Why didn't you put them in a binder? That's literally what they're for," Vernicia complains.
"I couldn't find an empty one before we had to leave! Oh, that reminds me. Gotta refill my ice gun." Rurin pulls it out of his pack.
I pick up a thicker-looking book from the pile – Quantum Police Omnibus #1. "This one looks cool," I mutter, opening it.
"Ru, look! There's a secret compartment you missed," Diantha calls, pulling at something in the bottom of the bag. Out comes a metallic manila envelope. "Huh… danger, sample for biotool testing only," she reads.
"Uhm. Has that been in Roy's bag this whole time?" I ask.
"You should open it on the balcony," Vernicia suggests.
"No! What if it contains some kind of pathogen? I say open it in the bathroom," Dia replies.
"If it's a virus, why would it be in an envelope?" Verni counters.
"It says 'danger' on the front! Even if it's not a pathogen, it's probably still dangerous," Dia points out. "And you know that nowadays, bathrooms are basically built like blast chambers. Better safe than sorry, I say."
I drop my book I was trying to read and snatch the envelope from Dia's hands, tearing it open in one swift motion. Everyone in the room freezes.
I look inside – the inside of the envelope is lined with a silvery foil. And at the bottom…
"Huh," I mutter. "Dunno what I'm looking at."
Diantha exhales. "That's just like you, Kit."
"Let me see!" Vernicia shoves her head next to mine. "Looks kind of liquidy. No identifiable smell," she notes. "Gonna touch it?"
"You touch it," I reply.
"Pansy." Vernicia reaches in as I continue staring at it.
The silvery blob is now sitting on her hand. "Feels kinda like clay. Stickier, though," Vernicia says. "Also kind of runny, somehow?"
"The sheen reminds me of mercury," Hal observes.
Diantha rubs her chin. "Sample for biotool testing only… maybe it IS safe, but only for people like us. Y'know, biotools."
"Look, look!" Verni holds up her hand. "It's melting without dripping. Feels kinda weird actually."
We watch as the blob melts over her fingers, slowly creeping down to her wrist.
Then Marc walks in, laptop in hand. "I'm back. What are you guys… WHAT the!" He points at Vernicia. "Is that… where'd you find that?!"
"Roy's bag had a secret compartment." Vernicia moves her hand around, viewing her new glove thing from different angles. "You know about it?"
"Has it hardened already? Keep moving your fingers, just in case," Marc instructs. "If it's what I think it is, then this could answer a lot of questions."
"What now? Didn't take you for the cryptic sort," I say.
"If it was in the bag, that means Roy must've had it," Marc mutters. "But how did he obtain it? My dad told me not even Cryos could work with it."
"Marc! What is it?"
"Epidermoid flash-fusing biometal," he states.
"Biometal? So I'm like you now?" Vernicia sounds curious.
"Kind of. Remember how Cryos was a Fusion experiment? He wouldn't have benefited from this stuff if he was already metal. Same goes for me."
"Well, it's fully solid now. I don't even really feel it anymore," Verni says.
"I imagine that's how the flash-fusion part works." He starts tapping her metallic hand. "Huh… feels exactly like my biometal, albeit much thinner. This is insane!" Marc is starting to sound both excited and worried. "My plates didn't fully stabilize until I was eight, and this sample accomplished the same thing in minutes."
"So if they were able to mass produce this stuff, they could sell it as instant armor. Easy to apply, easy to conceal," Diantha figures. "It would make waves in unsavory markets, turn the tide of wars…"
"To my knowledge, they can't produce large amounts of it," Marc tells her. "After all, the resources they put into normal biometal are very rare and expensive to process."
Vernicia looks at her hand with renewed interest. "Heha, I bet now I'm worth a zillion extra ducks. I could hold myself ransom!"
"Huh?"
Vernicia looks away, face red. "Never mind."
"I guess Roy wanted to try it on himself," I conclude.
"I wonder why, though," Marc says. "I don't really know much about the Gen 1 aeronauts."
Hal speaks up: "He's the one who died, right? I bet I can find him. Two darmas says he hasn't gone to rest yet."
"How would you know?" I know he can see that kind of stuff, but…
"Experience." Hal taps his head. "The more unresolved troubles a person has, the less likely they are to be resting after they die. And, well, no offense, but you flying types seem to have a lot of troubles."
Vernicia slowly nods. "Not a bad idea, Hal. Come on, Ru. We've got a ghost to hunt, it shouldn't take too long."
"Good," I nod. "I feel like we've been splitting up a lot lately. I want us all to be together when we make our next big move."
"We'll be fine if Roy's spirit is strong enough to communicate," Hal says. "Pretty big if, but it's worth a shot, right?
A few minutes later, the Tetrider peels down the main road, heading south to Chandonis. Marc lets out a disapproving noise.
"They're probably not going to wreck it," I tell him.
"That's not what I'm worried about! There's just somewhere I wanted to check, but it's too far on foot." Marc sighs. "Whatever, I'll just wait."
Diantha sidles up next to me. "So, what do you wanna do in the meantime?"
I contemplate for a moment, twirling a ponytail. "Uhm… more investigating? In this town, I mean."
"I knew you were just winging it! Dummy," Diantha laughs.
I push her off of me. "W-well, what else are we supposed to do?"
"Have some fun, of course. A maid told us about this arcade down the hill."
"Neon Moon," Angelina suddenly speaks up. "Our skills, we can hone them there."
"Oh! It's a training grounds," I deduce.
"Something like that. Follow me, guys," Dia says.
Turns out this "training ground" is a glitzy-looking building just off the main road, full of bright lights and noise and games of all kinds. "What the hell is this? Why is everything so flashy and loud?"
"Don't panic. Deep breaths," Diantha tells me.
"Stop that. I'm fine," I reply. "Just… caught off guard, is all."
"A laser tag arena, this place has one in the back. Karaoke too," Angelina reports.
"Yes. Time to slay," Dia grins.
"It has been a while," Marc nods.
"You guys know this place?!"
"Not Neon Moon specifically." Diantha gives me a strange look. "You guys in Gen 3 really are all fighting and training, huh? I kind of got the feeling RnR wasn't in your vocabulary."
"Wh–! Well, that's… w-we had comic books in our rec room," I splutter. "And a TV! With movies! I even watch them on occasion!"
"Relax! This isn't a competition," she laughs. "Back when we lived at our safe house, our keeper would take us out like this at least once a month."
Angelina looks surprised. "Our thing, you want to tell her?"
"Yeah." She holds her gaze on me with a serene smile. "We've already decided to place our full trust in this moron, didn't we? It's only fair."
"H-hey," I mutter. This girl sometimes…
"It'd be weird if birds of a feather didn't stick together, right?" Diantha nods mostly to herself. "I feel like it's what Juniper and Fern would've wanted."
Angelina takes a breath, then begins: "The four of us. Diantha White, Angelina Foxx, Juniper Obe, Fern Halley. Our keeper, Alana Nikos."
"We haven't seen Alana since we got in the pods," Diantha says. "She was going to give us a special task once we returned, except we never returned and now our safe house is abandoned."
"Maybe not dead, I think," Angie muses. "Too angry to die, I feel Alana is. The chillmist trial, remember it?"
"Yeah. It always seems to happen whenever she gets fired up. I heard from one of the labbies that she can kill a man with a single glare if she's pissed enough," Diantha recalls.
"Strange," Marc mutters. "But it is just a rumor, of course. Uh, right? I've only seen her in formal meetings…"
The Gen 4 aeronauts share a look. "Don't worry about that," Dia tells him.
"Sheesh. Joseph was chill, at least," I say.
"But like her, we do. And she us," Angelina assures us. "Her solo missions, they were always secret, but whenever she came back, more alive is how she'd look."
"Remember when we first saw her smile?" Dia and Angie begin reminiscing.
"Hmm? I never really felt that way with Joseph," I recall. "He usually left us to our own devices until it was time for training. And, uhm, he did give the occasional pep talk… that's about it, though. He didn't really spend that much time with us."
"I wonder why. Come think, I never spent much time with him either," Marc realizes. "Kit, you saw him in his final moments, right? What did he say?"
"Uhm…" I twirl a ponytail as I sift through my memories. "Something about how most of our parents were assassinated, and where the biotools were… oh, and that Atticus's shtick is basically just money and magic."
"Strange choice of words. Maybe it's an euphemism."
"You don't think he literally means money and magic?"
"Of course not. It doesn't make sense."
I narrow my eyes at him, hands on my hips. His weird ideology never ceases to befuddle me.
"We done standing around? Come on, Kit, I'll show you the ropes," Diantha says.
"Oh. S-sure," I mutter as she pushes me in behind Marc and Angie.
I've never been in an arcade before, but I know how video games work.
The first game Diantha drags me to, though, is ranked karaoke.
"How is singing a game?" I try to protest, but Dia shoves a mic into my hands.
"Watch and learn," she states.
Scoring points based on hitting the right notes and words while staying on the rhythm… it's like coordination training, but only with your voice.
I end up last with only 12 points, but at least I get it now. Angie gets the second-lowest score because she kept mixing up the words. I'm surprised Marc is a somewhat decent singer, but it pales in comparison to Diantha's performance, which gets 96 points. I begin to suspect she went last on purpose, but her singing is so nice I can give it a pass.
"I've never seen anyone perform it so splendidly… sob… such beauty," the arcade's manager sobs next to us. I look at her in mild alarm. According to her shirt, she's called Shiny… actually, she seems benign. No bad vibes like that man at Ridgeside Station. And Dia's singing was great.
Next is laser tag. Because the provided weaponry is light-based, accuracy and spatial awareness are the main priority. And though the issued armor is brittle, lightweight, and riddled with weak points, you can only score by hitting said weak points, so I guess it's fine.
It's harder than expected for me to keep up with Dia's speed and Angie's long-range accuracy. Coupled with the darkness, mirrors, and other less-experienced combatants, the overall experience reminds me of the surprise night battle training we would do occasionally.
"Phew. Not bad," I say after the round ends. "I've never used a gun like that before."
"That's because it wasn't really a gun," Marc tells me. "Honestly, all three of you were way too wired."
"What do you mean?"
Marc points at the scoreboard. Angie is the winner with 3800 points, and Dia and I are tied for second with 3300 points. Everyone else's scores are in the hundreds.
"Oh." I twirl a ponytail, unsure of what to say.
"Incredible," Shiny nods. "I've only seen ex-militia register such high accuracy!"
"Uh, they're just good like that," Marc tells her before I can say anything.
Marc decides on the next one. It's another music game called Dansu Dansu. I guess dancing with the right steps to a rhythm is easier than singing.
Sure enough, I don't do too badly. Marc, though, gets a perfect score, his feet moving with precision and poise.
"A true king of the dance floor… fascinating," Shiny remarks.
"What the," I murmur. "My feet moved way faster, though."
Marc flips his hair. "You may have the agility, but this guy's got the moves," he grins.
"Charming," I sigh. "Well, while we're in a physical activity mood…" I look around, then point to the back. "Let's do rock climbing."
"Oh yeah. I haven't tried the walls at Red Rock yet," Marc nods, looking hyped. "This'll be a good warmup."
"Hmph! Don't get cocky," I sneer.
Twenty minutes later
"The same-color rocks are so far apart… this sucks," I grumble, getting back up. This is the third time I tried to overextend and ended up falling. "It's so much harder like this… no wonder Dia and Angie sat back."
"Well, you won't need to climb most of the time, if that's any consolation," Marc replies.
"Such style! Such grace!" Shiny wipes her tears with a fancy-looking handkerchief. "Ah, to bless my humble arcade with your presence… it is truly an honor."
"H-hey, no need to get all emotional, Shiny," I reply. "Actually, haven't you been following us for a while now?"
"How can I not? Folks like you only come by once a blue moon!"
Folks like us…? No, no. No way. I'm just being paranoid. She's fine. I'm fine! We're fine. Everything is fine.
"It's starting to get late. We'll do some of the actual games next time," Diantha decides.
"And everyone else, we can bring them along," Angelina adds.
"Yeah… I guess it isn't so bad," I nod as we leave. "Once you get over all the noise, I mean."
As we walk into Red Rock Resort's main lobby, the hostess approaches us, flanked by two maids… Selphia Wills.
"Greetings, aeronauts and company," she smiles. "Please, have a seat."
Marc leans down to me. "How does she know about you guys?"
My mind starts to race. Was it when I was spying on her and Travis? Or maybe she had somehow spied on us? What am I thinking; of course she did – she has maids everywhere! I lowered my guard too much!
"I don't bite, promise," Selphia assures me. "You want tarts?"
Maid 1 places a platter on the table. "Very tasty, I assure you."
I stare at her, then look back at Selphia. No one else is in the lobby.
Without a word, I sit down and take a tart. The others with me follow suit.
The hostess elegantly twines her fingers. "I'm Selphia Wills, as I'm sure you know. I'd like to discuss some things with you all."
"You've got the Big Serious voice going," Maid 2 says. "Should we leave?"
"You'll be fine." Selphia shakes her head. "Really, I should have told you guys about this earlier."
"So what is it? Did Travis tip you on our identities?" I decide to be blunt.
"Oh, nothing so underhanded." Selphia throws me a glance. "You, however…"
My guard shoots up again. "I-it wasn't on purpose!"
"Oh?" She raises an eyebrow, and I realize it was a bluff. Crap!
Marc nudges me. "We can trust her."
I rub my face, then straighten. "R-right then. You won't deny that you're the Protonaut?"
"Yes," Selphia nods. "The first successful aeronaut."
"You're like… Gen Zero, then," I nod, then remember something else. "Oh yeah, I found a list earlier. There were two other names on the candidate list, but they were both marked terminated."
"Oh? I see you are well informed," Selphia replies. "I never met them myself, but… I imagine 'successful' also means 'compliant.'"
"I can't believe it. The one who set the aeronaut project in motion… the progenitor of A-Tech's trials and experiments," Marc breathes. "You're just as legendary as Cryos!"
Selphia's gaze grows distant. "Legendary, huh. I do still have my armor from back in the day, though I hope I never have to wear it to battle again."
I get it… this is an experienced veteran. She could easily get back in the action if the need arose, but I can tell she seems tired. How old is she? How long ago did she retire? How many battles did she fight?
"Well! Enough about me. Did you have fun at the arcade?" Selphia brightens. "Shiny is a close friend of mine."
"So that's it. I was wondering why I couldn't pick up anything from her," Marc mutters.
I jump up and point at her. "What is with you people constantly following us?!"
"Your choosing Neon Moon was just a coincidence," she disclaims. "But even so, you must realize your value. The prospect of a living, growing weapon isn't something the powerful people will just ignore."
"Hmph…" I sit back down.
"And better us than them, right? Qinn Industries and Metacorp still haven't picked up your trail," Selphia adds.
I cross my arms. I'm not sure if being watched by good guys is any better than being watched by bad guys… but then, she doesn't seem to want to hurt us… even still, I hesitate to trust her, considering everything else.
"If you were there in A-Tech's early days," Marc asks, "did they tell you anything about Cryos?"
"I know as much about him as everyone else," she answers, "which is nothing, alas." She leans back, then blinks as if remembering something. "Although… Jim was supposed to meet me today. If he had actually come, you all could have asked him."
I perk up. "You know Jim?" Maybe I can trust her after all.
"Yes, he has way more connections than even Shiny," Selphia nods. "I should give him a call, actually. Make sure he hasn't gotten caught up in any shenanigans."
Maid 1 hands her a comm, and Selphia opens a frequency on it. Then it connects with a beep.
"Yoohoo, Jim," Selphia sings.
"Now really isn't a good time," Jim's voice crackles.
"Oh, how rude of you to forget about our thing," she pouts.
"I didn't forget," Jim replies. "My current mission ran longer than expected thanks to a sudden change of plans. As of right now, I'm in an… extremely critical position. I would have helped you if I could."
"Hm… how convenient for you."
"I'm serious! You're lucky I'm able to pick up at all right now."
"Well, come soon," Selphia sighs. "The aeronauts are here, and they could use a bit of intel."
"This is good, actually," Jim replies. "Is Marc still with them? He'll want to hear this too. I don't have much time, but as long as Cryos is alive—"
"CRYOS!!" Marc and I jump up so fast, the table violently shifts. The two maids catch Selphia before she can fall over.
"Where are you?! Where did you find him?" Marc demands.
"So he is real," Diantha whistles.
"Who is he really?" I ask.
Selphia clears her throat. "Well now! What's with this reaction?"
"S-sorry." Marc sits back down. "I just feel a… personal obligation to find out the truth about that person. Jim! Tell us what you know about him!"
"Aha. You are here," Jim says. "Marc Adams, right? I've got good news."
"What do you mean?"
"What I said. I'm sure you'll be happy to know you still have surviving family."
"F-f-family!" Marc starts shaking. "Is he my real father? My dad's brother? A cousin??"
"What? I don't know how the assumption of gender came into play, but Cryos is your mother," Jim replies. "And if we're caught now, you really will be the only one left."
I also sit down. "What's wrong with… her? Um, isn't Cryos a legend?"
"Same way Selphia is a 'legend',if you must know," Jim answers. "She's been stuck in metastasis since A-Tech got taken down, so she likely won't be in fighting condition for a good while."
"Phew…" I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. "I'm glad you've made progress on things, at least."
"Well, then, I'll leave you to it. Good luck," Selphia says.
"I'm gonna need it," Jim mutters, then cuts the connection.
We all look at Marc. He seems to have fully frozen in place.
"Maybe we should go back to the suite, talk this over," I decide. "Come on, Marc." I nudge him, but he doesn't respond. "Er, Marc?"
Still nothing. I look over at Angelina and Diantha.
"Not it." Dia walks away.
Angelina nervously twines her fingers. "Um…"
Maid 2 steps around the table. "Allow us," she says.
"Yes, consider it room service," Maid 1 nods.
"Oh. Thanks." Why did the Gen 4 girls react like that? Did I miss something?
Angelina notices my confused look. "Go to our suite, let's just do that," she says.
"Um… sure. Whatever," I shrug.