"I feel like the House of Steel gets easier to break into every time we do it," Rurin says, casually deflecting autoturret fire.
"No alarms this time," Travis notes, pushing open a side entrance. "Odd."
"You think maybe they're still asleep? Or maybe someone else broke in and disabled them," Vernicia speculates as we enter the facility.
I look around – empty halls. "Who else even knows about this place?"
"Found a supply pantry," Rurin calls. "Kit, crack it open."
"With pleasure."
SMASH! The door shatters. "Aw, what? Weak," I complain. "You could've handled that, Ru!"
"It's cooler when you do it," he shrugs.
"Louder too! We don't need guards on us when we're on the run," I retort.
Travis is ignoring us, happily sifting through the stuff. "Rations, snacks, liquid, bags. Nice haul, nice haul."
"Huh, maybe everyone is asleep," Vernicia figures. "Seems like we lucked out for once, yeah?"
"For once," I exhale. "Well, whatever. Let's go steal more stuff."
We move down another corridor, dark and quiet. This one has a lot of doors. Should I smash all of them, or…
"Hey, look." Rurin points at an open door near the end of the hall.
We silently sneak over. Inside the room are two men – one looks tired, and the other has dark hair. They look to be whispering to each other, paying us no heed. But the room itself… now THAT'S what we're looking for. It's an armory!
I signal my comrades: on one, we attack.
Now–!
The two men react surprisingly quickly for regular people, and their combat abilities aren't bad either. It takes the four of us almost thirty seconds to subdue them.
Once they're properly tied up, I lean down over them. "Not bad, you two. A nice change from the usual guards, I suppose."
The dark-haired man speaks up: "You guys are aeronauts!"
"Quiet, you." I kick him in the face, knocking him unconscious.
"No, wait! We're–" KICK. The tired-looking man is also out cold.
"Hey, look at this. They've got swords in all the colors of the rainbow," Travis calls.
Vernicia pockets a grey device and looks over at him. "Is there a black sword? I want a black one."
"Um… yeah. Oh, there's a white one too," Travis says. "Yeah, I like the feel of this one. I bet we can really do something with this!" He strikes a pose with his new sword. "How's this: the warriors of justice, Black Eyebrows and White Knight!"
"You want this scabbard up your bum?" Vernicia grabs the black sword. "Just call me Dark Pixie Girl, that has a way better vibe… oh, hey. My sword has an onyx gemstone in its base."
"Really?" Travis inspects his weapon more closely. "Mine has… a diamond. Man, they really went the extra mile with these things."
"And they're sharp, too. Definitely a keeper," Vernicia decides. "Hey Kit, you want this blue one?"
"Nah. I was never really a sword kinda gal," I reply. "You see any knives?"
Rurin picks up some kind of polearm. "I like this pike, personally."
I look over at him. "Uhm… Ru, isn't that a lance? I think pikes have differently shaped points."
"Nah, lances are longer than that," Travis recalls. "I think that's a halberd."
"Well, the tip is curved a bit. Maybe it's a glaive," Vernicia observes.
"Glaive sounds cool. Let's go with that," Rurin decides.
I notice a belt of knives on a lower shelf.
"What have we here?" I pick it up, eyeing the blades – sharp, slightly curved. A bit short for my taste, though. These are probably throwing knives instead of stabby-slashy knives. I toss them aside, no longer interested.
Under where the knives were, a parcel catches my eye. On a whim, I decide to open it.
Inside are a couple of metallic tube things… gauntlets?
"I see you, Kit. Gonna try for a defensive playstyle?" Rurin wonders.
"Maybe? I dunno," I shrug. "I was actually wondering if these things had weapons in them. Or like, maybe I could install pointy bits somehow?"
"Try them on," the dark-haired man suggests.
"Hey! When did you guys wake up?" I glare at them.
"Hear us out! Those gauntlets were hand-crafted by an aeronaut named Macy Lee," the tired-looking man says.
This catches all of our attention.
"He isn't lying. You guys aren't the only ones," the dark-haired man states.
I hesitate for a second, then ask, "Where is she now?"
"Can't say," he shrugs. "She escaped a long time ago and was never seen again."
"Oh yeah?" Vernicia sounds doubtful. "How come we never met her, or even knew she existed? How do we know you aren't lying to us?"
"Paranoid much? We've got no reason to lie to you."
"We don't even know who you are!"
"Oh yeah. Um…" the dark-haired man looks over at his partner, who shakes his head.
Then he says, "Here's something that might interest you. According to what we've found so far, you guys make up the third generation of aeronauts."
"Third… generation…" Something clicks in my brain. "There's more than just us! So, if we look hard enough, we can find them?"
"Who knows?" The dark-haired man closes his eyes. "They may be closer– ow."
Vernicia narrows her eyes at them.
"Might as well keep these gauntlets, then," I decide.
"Should we knock 'em out again?" Travis points a thumb at the men.
I twirl a ponytail. "Meh… they're cool, I guess. Let's go, guys."
"The world awaits us," Vernicia agrees. "North we go!"
The tired-looking man clears his throat. "Pardon me… if you're heading north, there's a city just past the great ridge. Might be a good place to start."
"A city, eh?" We start walking down the corridor. "I remember they're supposed to be the best place to start a new life."
"Sounds good to me. If it isn't a trap, that is," Travis says.
"I'm not too worried. If they meant to harm us, they would have sounded the alarm when they first woke up," I reply.
"Yeah, the alarm…" Vernicia seems to be seriously thinking about it. "Those men weren't researchers. Nor were they guards. And yet they knew about us? Kit, maybe they were intruders too!"
"Eh? So they turned off the alarm…?" I rub my neck. "I guess that makes the most sense. I'm glad at least one of us is good at figuring this stuff out."
"Yeah. Just leave it to me," Vernicia nods.
The four of us fly into the slowly lightening sky, heading straight north. The badlands stretch endlessly, but eventually something else will come up, right? I struggle to remember how biomes work. Then a freezing wind blows through.
"Yeah, I'm not gonna miss the badlands," I decide. "Give me actual seasons over this mess."
"Did the randomly shifting climate make the badlands, or did the badlands make the randomly shifting climate?" Travis tries to sound philosophical.
"Shut. There's the ridge." Vernicia points to the horizon. It looks like a mountain kind of, but it stretches so far in both directions I can't see either end.
"The ground's been sloping upwards too," Rurin notes.
We land on the great ridge just as the sun peeks over the eastern horizon, illuminating a land of many different colors down below – green and yellow fields, brown and orange hills, a grey and silver pathway coursing around them. I can even see a blue-ish body of water in the distance. And farther out…
"Aha! A skyline." Travis points.
"A what?" I follow his gaze. "Oh. I thought those men called it a city."
"It's like a synonym, I think," Vernicia supplies. "Like, skyline refers to cities too. I forgot why."
I roll my shoulders. "Well, not much farther now. I'm getting hyped."
The great ridge really is great, though. I mean, massive. The other side of the slope is just a steep decline over a thousand meters tall. And even from this height, I still can't see either end.
"Huh, it's still chilly," Rurin notes. "Not super cold, though."
"Maybe out here it'll stay cold for longer than a week," I speculate. "Um… winter, right?"
"Winter has snow," Travis corrects me. "This is the one before winter… um, from that documentary."
"Oh yeah. Autumn," I recall.
We continue flying over this new region. I've only ever seen trees like the ones below in those encyclopedias the researchers would try to hide from us.
Soon the city is in full view.
"Hmm…" I survey the expanse of grey and brown and blue. "Those block things are buildings, right?"
"None of them are hidden," Travis notes. "And a lot of them are super tall… aren't they worried about getting attacked?"
"Probably not. The people who live here are all civilians, I bet," Vernicia says.
"Actual civvies…" Rurin sounds wistful. "Regular people, living regular lives. I wonder what it's like."
"There's a lot of really tall buildings over there," I point out. "Look, they easily break three hundred meters."
"I bet people live in them, too," Vernicia muses. "Hey, let's head to the ground."
"Bleh. It looks cramped," I say. "Like those espionage trials we did. No thanks, I like having room to breathe."
"It's all so big, and yet so small. How do they do it," Travis wonders.
"Hmm… I kind of want to live here. Just to see what it's like," Rurin decides. "Could be a good learning experience."
"Mmm… I mean… if I HAD to, maybe I'd be fine living on top of a really tall building," I reply. "Then I could just stoop to wherever I need to go."
"Oh, nice idea," Travis nods. "Just don't hit anyone on accident, yeah?"
"That was one time," I retort. "And he survived, didn't he? …Barely."
As we talk, we find ourselves circling the tallest building in the city – a silver spire ringed with lights near the top. So of course we land on it.
Vernicia suddenly lights up. "Hey, you guys remember the movie where the monster climbs the tower?"
"What? I thought we only had, like, documentaries and junk," I reply.
"I've seen Shifting Sands," Travis says.
"That's a monster movie?" I scrunch my eyebrows.
"Yeah, I think. I saw it too," Rurin supplies. "That thing at the end was a monster, I'm pretty sure."
"It was a cognitive construct, you uncultured heathens!" Vernicia shakes her head. "Kit, I can understand, but I expected better of you, Ru."
"Aw, what? It's too much effort to sneak into the rec room all the time," Rurin moans.
"What about books or comics?" Vernicia continues. "I snuck several into the barracks, so you have no excuse!"
"Um… FurryKnight was interesting," Travis says. "I was kind of sad the last volume was a cliffhanger."
"Meh… I couldn't get into them," I recall. "I mean, some of them had nice art, but—"
Beep-a-deep-a-deep.
Startled, I jump off the building. "WHAT was that," I yell, now hovering in the air. my comrades are staring at me.
Beep-a-deep-a-deep.
"It's… coming from you, Kit," Travis calls. "One of your gauntlets, I mean."
"Huh?" I look at my gauntlet – a light on it is blinking. "Oh." I touch it and the beeping stops.
Then a voice crackles through: "…ronauts! Yes? Do you copy?"
"What the…" I squint at my gauntlet.
"Aha, I hear you! Please respond if you hear me," the voice continues.
"Oh, wait! It's you! One of those weird men we beat up," I suddenly remember. "You sound like… the tired-looking one, maybe?"
"I don't look that tired, do I? Whatever. Aeronauts, this is Larry," the voice replies. "Roy's at the hideout right now, but I'll still be able to meet up with you guys."
"Uhm… yeah, nice to meet you too, I think," I mutter. "What exactly are you playing at here? How'd you know there was a comm in these things?"
"It'll be best if we talk face to face. I'll be waiting at the tallest skyscraper in the city."
Then the connection cuts off.
I slowly look around. "The tallest skyscraper," I mumble… "It's this one, isn't it?"
"Yep." Vernicia sits down cross-legged.
"Hum." I land back on the platform. "So super-tall buildings are called skyscrapers. Makes sense."
The four of us sit and wait. A cool wind is calmly blowing through. Vernicia flies off for a dozen or so minutes, then returns, looking satisfied.
Half an hour later, Rurin points to the north. "I see someone in the sky. I think it's our man."
I look his way. "He's flying?"
"Yep."
"I knew it," Vernicia whispers.
The moment he lands in front of us, we surround him.
"Okay, bub, you've got a lot of explaining to do. Start talking," I demand.
"You're really tall for an aeronaut," Travis observes. "160 maybe?"
"165. They had a different plan for Gen 1, which is my group," Larry states. "We were to be scouts, while you of Gen 3 were to be vanguards."
"What about the other generations? How many even are there?" I ask.
"Yeah, we're still working on that." Larry scratches his head. "The data we stole is taking ages to get into 'cause none of us are very good hackers…"
"Does that mean you were there when our cover company A-Tech was still active?" Vernicia wonders. "Like, before the government found out and sent the Secret Salvation Agency to shut it down."
Larry looks at her, surprised. I throw her a glance too – yet another thing she's found out behind everyone's backs. "Interesting you would know about that," Larry says, "but the safe house researchers and keepers are all still registered as A-Tech agents. Their campaign didn't seem to stop them at all."
"Well, I read in the archives that the whole event with the SSA is the reason we were stationed in the badlands," Vernicia says. "So, it's more likely that A-Tech pretended to shut down to get the government off their tails."
"Verni." I try to remain calm. "What's with you and reading stuff you're not allowed to?"
"I like reading," she shrugs.
"Good girl. The pursuit of knowledge will take you far," Larry says approvingly.
"Don't patronize me." Vernicia punches him in the gut.
"Wha-?! Ow."
"Hey, Larry. What do you know about this city?" Rurin asks.
He straightens up. "W-well, for starters, it's called Chandonis. The, um, city of dreams. There's a lot to explore down in the streets of the tri-state area. You should talk to Roy about it; he likes this place way more than me."
"Aw, do we have to wait for him, too?"
"No, no… you know what, we've got time," Larry concedes. "Why don't I take you all on a tour of the area? I'll get you some stuff, show you around, and maybe crash somewhere. What do you say?"
I glare at him. "Hmm…"
"Aye," Vernicia says.
"Aye," Rurin says.
"Aye. Overruled by majority," Travis says.
"Hey!"
"Mostly in favor, then? It'll be fun." Larry looks at me.
I avert my gaze, twirling a ponytail. "W-well… I never said no."
"Good mindset! First up, I know a good clothes place down south," Larry declares. "I'll help you guys pick out some real clothes."
"Real clothes?! We're not naked, you idiot!" I move to kick his shin, but he dodges it.
"Look, you'll stand out like apples in potatoes with that getup. Seriously, brightly colored combat skysuits?" He points at me, then points at himself. "We're trying not to get approached by police."
"But… mine is blue," Rurin mumbles. "I like blue."
"It's not the end of the world. You can just stow the skysuits if they mean that much to you," Larry tells us.
"It's not that I like my skysuit! I mean… it's more like… we've never worn anything else," I mutter.
"Speak for yourself," Vernicia snickers.
"What?"
"Nothing," she sings. "Come on, come on!"
An hour later, we emerge from a thrift shop.
"That wasn't so bad, was it? Now you'll have an easier time blending in," Larry says.
"Yeah, this'll do," Vernicia nods. She's wearing a black hoodie and a dark blue skirt and black platform shoes.
Rurin comes out next, sporting a light blue sweater and white sweatpants with blue soft shoes. "So this is the style of a real civvie…"
"I dunno…" Travis is wearing a white sweatshirt and some grey cargo pants and white boots. "I mean, yeah, it's stylish, but it feels kinda… drag-inducing?"
I had decided on a striped yellow-white t-shirt and dirt-colored cargo pants along with brownish sandals. "I bet I can destroy this shirt with a single wing flex."
"Don't do that please," Larry says. "I can modify your tops so you don't feel discomfort back there."
I look over at him. "Gonna cut holes?"
"No, no." Larry pulls out a sewing kit from his bag. "I can add in-folded openings that your wings can easily move through without compromising your look."
"Aha. Fancy holes," I nod.
"Are those tailoring things?" Vernicia sounds befuddled. "You just carry that with you?"
"It comes in handy. Like now," Larry replies.
I must admit, he really is good with the tailoring tools. We didn't even have to take off our shirts. He kind of reminds me of those women in the movies the researchers love watching… housewife, was it?
After roaming Chandonis for a while longer, we return to the top of the skyscraper. Larry had called it Eremys Heights.
"Y'know, we never tried to hide," Travis realizes.
"Huh, you're right. I'm certain several people saw us flying." Vernicia rubs her chin. "Think it'll spark rumors?"
"I doubt it," Larry answers. "There's a reason we normally rendezvous here. The people are… willfully ignorant, I'll say. Or perhaps tolerant?"
"Taller than all of us, is what they are," I grumble. "I never realized how ANNOYING it is."
"You mean being petite? I'm not that tall either," Larry says.
Travis tosses up his hands. "He doesn't get it!"
"He doesn't get it." Rurin shakes his head.
"This man's never been kids' menu'd at every restaurant he visits," Vernicia sighs, flashing him a thumbs-down.
"Hey, it's not my fault they made you like that," Larry protests. "If I had to guess, though, it has to do with your enhanced strength… something I got to personally experience at the House of Steel."
"Oh yeah? Not sorry about that," I reply.
"I suppose this means you have less muscle mass than us," Rurin deduces.
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure our bones are lighter, too. Based on how you guys fought, you were probably made smaller because of your high muscle density. You wouldn't be able to fly if you were my size."
"So… I could crush you in an arm-wrestling contest," I conclude.
"Mm… sure," Larry nods, "but racing's a different story. Gen 1's airspeed is unmatched."
I narrow my eyes. "Unmatched how?"
"We of Gen 1 were optimized and trained for mobility," Larry states. "We did tons of air and ground speed trials while we were still lab rats."
"That doesn't mean you're faster than Gen 3," I tersely reply.
Vernicia, who is digging through Larry's bag, pulls something out. "Hey Larry! Trav and I are heading out to have some fun," she calls. "What do these ball things do?"
Larry glances over. "They're similar to smoke bombs, if I recall. Roy only gave me a few, so – wait!"
Too late. Vernicia and Travis jump off the skyscraper's edge, their laughter fading into the darkness.
"Okay… this is fine," Larry sighs.
"Hey. Let's race," I tell him.
"Huh? Now? I was going to get us some donuts," he replies.
"I've heard of those. You should do that," Rurin says.
"Not until we race! Come on," I insist.