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It wasn't often that Encke patrolled alone these days, but his Arra was mired with his current dance competition. Thankfully, it meant that Encke could go out on his own and make the likely safe assumption that Basiluzzo wouldn't try to go out without him...

Honestly, it was nice.

Encke didn't necessarily prefer being out by himself, but he had been out by himself for the majority of his powered life, and he knew he could handle it. It let him pretend for a bit, too. Pretend things were back to normal. Pretend that Basiluzzo wasn't putting his life on the line, daily. Pretend that Anser wasn't putting her life on the line, daily. Pretend it was just him putting himself in the way. Pretend he was the only one at risk.

It was a foolish fantasy at the time and it was still a foolish one at best these days, but it was still nice to breathe a bit easier for just a few minutes.

Of course, since this was reality and not fantasy, a few minutes was all he was likely to get.

It didn't take Encke terribly long to notice the sensation of a chaotic aura nearby, and he turned his attention towards the source.

A captain, he figured, from both the feel and the strength of the aura. Captains were more of a threat than lieutenants but less of a threat than generals; definitely something he was capable of dealing with on his own if necessary. From what he had seen of captains, it was, unfortunately, more than likely necessary. Experience had taught him that, though he'd try not to jump to conclusions without seeing proof of the damage the captain was doing, first.

Instead, he moved towards the source of the aura, cautiously.

There was no point in keeping himself hidden--he glowed too much for that--but he didn't necessarily walk right in the open, either, keeping himself against the walls of the nearby buildings.

Hearing her voice took him by surprise for just a moment, not exactly expecting the captain to announce herself so blatantly.

What she said was enough to get him to let his guard down just a bit, though, if just because their surroundings corroborated what she said. He didn't exactly see anyone else around. It didn't mean that there wouldn't be someone with the captain, but it didn't seem terribly likely. And, admittedly, when he was younger, he did occasionally power up for the speed boost.

(He still did, on occasion, when he wanted to go for a run and still needed to go on his daily patrol at the same time--)

"I actually do know, believe it or not," replied Encke, with a somewhat bitter chuckle, walking closer to the source of the aura. He stopped trying to press himself against the wall, clearly noticed. Well, that and he was fairly sure she wasn't going to try to attack him, considering the mild sarcasm in her delivery... "I used to do the same thing. But I can't just let an agent wander around without checking it out, you know?"

When he came in front of her, he crossed his arms and took on a defensive stance, though made no moves to attack her, considering there was, indeed, no one near her.

Something about her looked familiar, but he wasn't quite sure what that was.

Interesting.

Encke tapped his foot and let his arms down, looking her over. Tall. Lanky. Had one arm that didn't match the other. That was even more interesting. How the hell did that work? What Negaverse nonsense was this?

"You aren't trying to transport an energy orb or a starseed, are you?"

Encke, admittedly, would have been more comfortable if she did let him search her. There were a couple others that had let him before, though some as an attempt at a lure -- Faustite, for example, had used it to get up close and personal with his chest.

His transcendence had said no thanks to that one, but still--

Normally, he might have moved to insisting she prove it, but there was something about the odd deja vu he felt upon looking at her that made him hold back from doing so. He'd rather figure out why he recognized her than chase her off at the moment, especially if the reason why he recognized her was a bad thing.

She seemed to have the same question as him.

Used to wear a lot more purple?

Ah, so it was a bad thing. She corrupted. But who had he met who used to wear a lot more purple who was about as tall as he was, this lanky, and had an arm that didn't match the rest of her--

Oh.

It hit him like a ton of bricks, and Encke's defenses fully dropped, his shoulders slumping.

"We have. Babel, right?" His tone was steady, but it lost some of the confidence it seemed to carry before. "I'm Encke, if that name is at all familiar. Not sure how much you remember from that night..."

If anything at all.

Yeah, that's it!

Well, at least she recognized him, but to be honest, Encke wasn't entirely certain that was better. He had learned from Sedna and from other prior experiences that a total loss of memory was a sign of forced corruption. Considering she had some semblance of recognition from that night, even if it was all fragmented from blood loss and corruption and general trauma, that likely implied some level of willingness in the corruption.

Right?

It was hard for Encke to hide how much the idea of someone corrupting bothered him, and while he didn't look disappointed, it was obvious he was saddened. His posture had slumped and he definitely didn't look like he was ready to fight at any moment if necessary anymore.

He licked his bottom lip and fidgeted behind his back for a moment, trying to figure out what the right approach was for this situation.

"I'm glad to see you're still standing."

Not exactly glad to see what she was wearing.

Dying tends to ******** with you rang a little more true to Encke than she might have realized, and he let out a small, bitter chuckle at that.

"I imagine it would," murmured Encke, not that he figured it would be a fair excuse for jumping ship and joining up with the Negaverse. After all, the Negaverse had been the ones to take away her arm in the first place. They who taketh also ... giveth back? With some kind of arm that clearly wasn't her own? What even was that arm?

He was distracted from his thoughts spinning about the arm by being presented with her hand.

Ah, introductions.

Kosmochlor was the name that they had slapped onto her, the fake name that obscured her real one. At the very least, she was aware that her name was supposed to be Babel, but he wasn't sure that was better, just like he wasn't sure that her being aware of her past was better. It meant she was aware she did it. It meant that, on some level, she had chosen to switch sides to the side who had taken away her arm willingly.

He couldn't understand that.

"Transcendent Eternal Encke, though you already knew that," finally spoke Encke, realizing that he had probably been silent for far too long, taking her hand and shaking it with a well-practiced smile. He wasn't sure if smiling at her was the best idea. He wasn't sure if smiling at her was the worst, either.

He wasn't sure how to approach this situation at all.

Encke glanced to the mismatched arm again.

Should he start there...?

"Is that just a really good prosthetic, or...?"

"Well, no," he interjected, awkwardly, when she asked him if it looked like a prosthetic.

Because the fact was, well, it didn't. It didn't match her skin tone, really, but other than that it looked like a real arm. It apparently was a real arm. Was that just someone else's real arm she got grafted on? Was that something that could actually be done? He hadn't really heard of an arm transplant before, and he was honestly fairly sure if those were a thing, advancements in mechanical prosthetics wouldn't really be necessary.

Which implied that was...

He wasn't sure what, but the question on if it may or may not have had blood wasn't exactly promising. He didn't like what that implied. "It's a living prosthetic," stated Encke, partially for his own clarification and partially because his brain was still trying to process what exactly he was looking at.

Encke ran his hand through his hair.

"If it's living, what ... is it, exactly, if you don't mind me asking? Not a medical advancement I've ever heard of."

A--

A yo-

Encke's brain stuttered out for a moment, entirely, a million thoughts spinning through at once as he looked at her odd arm as she waved it. It took a moment for him to start to parse out the most important ones, namely the -- he had a bad feeling about this, of course it ended up being a youma arm, why wouldn't it be -- and the other one being -- how the hell did one get an arm that was literally just a monstrous graft?

What was this, Frankenstein?

The most galling part of all of it, really, was the fact that what the Negaverse took, it gave back ... as a mockery of the original. It certainly looked like a normal arm. Acted like a normal arm. But it wasn't a normal arm. It was a monster arm. A literal monster graft arm.

Did monster graft arms get dusted like normal--

Encke that wasn't the point right now focus.

Having a harder time keeping his already shaky focus under the confusion and dismay, Encke took a deep breath to center himself before he tried speaking again. The first thing he did was take his eyes away from her arm, of course, because while he wasn't technically staring at not-Babel's arm anymore, he was certainly looking in its general direction. Was probably rude. Was probably not making a great impression.

s**t.

Encke cleared his throat awkwardly. Well, at least after nearly ten years, there was still new s**t to see, he guessed-- "I'm sorry, that arm is made out of ... monster? Forgive me for staring, but."

He seemed a little surprised, is all.

"So they cut off your arm and you died, and then you went to them for a ... grafted monster arm replacement?"

He wasn't sure what he thought about the idea of the Negaverse just chopping a youma's arm off and using it for an agent. On one hand, they were monsters. On the other hand, he was fairly sure he felt bad for the monsters in this case.

Probably a good thing there wasn't a lot of data on this, honestly.

Encke kept his eyes on her face, desperately trying to stop himself from looking at her arm once more. The arm, while horrifying in itself now that he knew its origins, was not the biggest problem here. The biggest problem was the way her voice suddenly cracked and how she seemed to think that the only way out was running to the Negaverse and grafting some literal monster part onto her body.

That was ******** as it was, though, Encke couldn't necessarily just go with, I'm sure you understand, and replied with a, "No, I don't," because he didn't.

"The Negaverse just about killed you there. Forever. They actually do kill other people, forever. Not just losing their arm, but their whole lives." Encke lifted an arm to run his hand through his hair again, but quickly dropped his arm afterward, relegating his fidgeting to a tap-tap-tap on his leg. "Prosthetics are expensive, I know." He wished she had reached out, or something. He wasn't sure what he would have been able to do alone, but then, he was an actor. Encke lived comfortably. He could have done something. Maybe started a drive, Order was many, even if they tended to be bad at sticking together-- "I wish I could have done something to help," and his voice was probably not as strong as he wanted it to be, there, but he continued on, "but giving up your life to the service of a faction that nearly killed you and does regularly kill others just to get a stolen arm back, especially since they're the ones who took yours in the first place?"

Encke shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I can't justify that."