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Zeta Eight was not perturbed by the hand around her wrist, the eyes hidden beneath smooth panes of orange not bothering to glance down at it. Even if it had been an aggressive gesture, she had time after time shown that her conscience and guilt did not have a place here on this island, clearly lost in another lifetime she could not remember and frankly didn't seem to have any interest in. There were tinges of blood spattered on the front of her uniform, completely staining her mace where she had shattered the bones in Alpha Five's arm -- she was not afraid of a fight. In fact, where she had been vaguely curious before, now she seemed to relish the thought of one. Still, she did not make any move to hurt the other Zeta 'soldier' she had by the collar of his shirt, instead merely listening to his rational. In his defense, she understood the logic -- she had, for the most part, been nothing but logic throughout their short time on the island. She could even ignore the fact that he seemed completely callous about the ordeal. But it was also logic which kept her fingers tight in his uniform, her face inches from her own.

"It's not me you have to convince."

Again, her words were tighter than they had ever been. Although she could hear Zeta Six behind her, telling her to stay close, she ignored him for the time being, not even glancing back at him -- her own safety had been set by the wayside for a moment. Ironically, had she done so, she might have seen Alpha Seven approaching her from behind. It would have made no difference. Even with the gas mask, there was murder in his eyes, and anyone within a ten foot radius could have seen it. The larger, more masculine arms circling around her body were unyielding as they pressed down on her own, forcing her to let go of Zeta Eleven's collar, and she watched as his gloved fingers curled and tightened around the other male's neck, lifting him completely from the ground.

"Seven."

Her voice had returned to it's clinical monotone, the sound steely and clipped, as if afraid of what would happen if it wasn't. There was a pause. A breath... two... three... before she twisted in his arms, hands reaching up to grab onto the edges of the gas-mask firmly, shaking him once hard.

"SEVEN."

She seemed to have forgotten they weren't in the same group, that she should have prefaced it with 'Alpha,' that there was another Seven still there. Her own fingers were like claws around his head, not affording herself affection -- that had been Alpha Ten -- responding instead with a thin hiss.

"Listen to me. We will find her. Let. Him. Go."

Slowly, the crash of waves reminded the fallen soldier that there was no garden... that he was surrounded by partially melted sand and that he was still smoking. The world slowly came into focus again and Z4 struggled to sit up, rubbing his head anxiously. Was he dreaming? No... back... on the beach in the fog with madness erupting on all sides.

Everything felt muted as he worked his way upright, mind reeling, trying to grasp for those cheerful thoughts that had kept him moving the past few hours.

The sound of a gunshot finally broke him out of his revere, and he turned just in time to watch A10- that... that girl... she had sounded so young- that girl he had hit again and again, who's blood still stained his weapon fall to the ground. "N-no-" He managed, wobbling forward but it was as though the world was shifting in slow motion, figures rushing past him to apprehend the soldier who had fired the killing shot. Names, names and faces, there were no names, there were no faces, everyone looked alike and he felt lost... but slowly the shock lessened, and... yes, Alpha 7? The big burly chap- yes, that's what he was called, he could see the number on his pack- and Miss Zeta 8 were on top of the attacker.

And Death was here. Was he imagining it? He wouldn't be surprised- but soon it was gone again, but had left a heavy ache in the pit of his stomach.

By the time he had managed to force his feet to respond, bringing him closer- but not too close- it seemed the chaos had ended.

He swallowed thickly, glancing from one staring mask to another of the red and orange uniforms gathered around him... some had started to leave.

He had just started making friends but... would it do him any good, in the end?

Of course! That part of his head that he still believed was HIM- whoever HE was pipped up, Without comrades what are you? You are certainly no killing machine, that can't be why you're here. Adventure, it was just an adventure. Maybe it wasn't real. Maybe it was all a dream.

He realized he had been nervously humming under his breath, but he quickly stopped himself.

"Is... is that it? No... no one got a pendant after all? That's... that's a shame.." he tried to keep his voice perky as usual, but it was crumbling at the edges, as he crept a few more steps towards the familiar Z8 and the others, "I... I s-s-s-suppose... what's done is done. There is no undoing it."

It might have been him who had died for nothing. But... if he was going to die, he'd like it to be for *something* at least...

A7 heard his number called out by two different voices, at the same time. The crisp, commanding voice of A1 dwarfed over Z8's call, but Z8 was closer. She grabbed his helmet and forced him to pay attention. His big, brutish hands unlocked around Z11, dropping him carelessly. His own arms sagged to his sides, lifeless.

"She died for nothing." That was all he got out of this mess. Z8 spoke of finding her, and it refused to register. There was no her to find. A10's body was laying in a perfectly positioned heap, somewhere behind him. She was dead. That was it. Game over.

"I hate this place." A7 grumbled under his breath, as rational thought started to tiptoe back into his head. He reached out and pulled Z8 into an unexpected bear hug, before letting her go and turning towards A1.

"Alliance went to hell, boss. I hope you've got a plan." Turning his head back to Z8, he gestured in some random direction. "Come on. Let's go have that talk." He tilted his head to look down at Z11, tensing slightly as the anger threatened to boil over again. With a callous grunt, he managed some sort of grumble that sounded like it could have been an apology. Maybe. It was hard to tell.

Zeta One nodded. "I as well, Seven," she said in her small voice, creeping a little closer to Ten, Six and Seven. She would follow them, for they hadn't tried to harm her and she felt safe with Ten. Seven seemed to have a good head on his shoulders so that was that.

Wobbling still, Z4 turned his head at the sudden snickers from A8, brows furrowing behind his mask. Was... was he laughing? He supposed it was a bit funny... just... not in any sort of conventional matter. When he woke from all of this, he was certain he'd be absolutely baffled.

"N-not... for nothing! We... we learned what we were capable of, at least?" His voice verged on a manic sort of cheer, as though trying to rationalize what he had played part in to himself as much as anyone.

((Was going to wait but going to bed and then work tomorrow so I'm parkin' him until I get back ;3; <33 ))

Z4 flinched at the sound of his number, smartly turning to attention like a good soldier, "Yes, Miss Zed-Eight!"

"I will be back. But you don't have to wait for me."

He hesitated, expression furrowing behind his mask as he sagged a bit, "Where are you off to? I'm sure I could be of help-" He stepped forward, but it was too late, she had already turned to walk away. He fidgeted, wondering if he should follow anyway but... no, she needed some composure time, he was sure. "Well.. er... I'll... I'll certainly wait for you, my dear. You're er... among the most familiar faces- so to speak- I have." And she was gone.

He shifted anxiously before finally sinking to sit on the sand. He was fairly tired... but somehow sleep seemed out as an option.

Even so, he was soon surrounded by crisp cut grass and the smell of flowers only he could sense all the same.

Zeta Seven listened to the members he was standing with, They wanted to mobilize, he could tell. It reeked of death and bad vibes here. The scent of singed flesh and burnt plastic was a heavy aroma in the air, it make his nose itch and his throat wrench in disgust. Or it could have been from the situation they just went through either one. It was a sign to vacate this place, fast, the odor of "death" still lingered, the b*****d. he told himself with a scowl on his face that noone else could notice.

"We should move, no reason to linger around." he told them simply and he checked around to see where everyone was. He bit his lip in thought, it was a gamble to go out there in such a small party, but no more of a danger than staying here. Was eight hugging Alpha 7? it was confusing, in fact, Z7 actually tried to scratch his head with the mask on, not even realizing it wasn't doing anything to aid his confusion. Four, we're gonna scout ahead and set up a camp, keep a few members with you and stay vigilant, please. he told the guy whom he'd hope would listen to his ideas. "Catch up with us as soon as you all can, alright?" He gave a pat the the guy's shoulder as he turned back to the scouting group.

Let's get moving, unless you want to be here when the horse comes back for thirds. he told the others as he trudged away from the battlefield, where two bodies rested peacefully as the waves crashed against solid rocks in a gentle spray of cold water and the tide the would be there to keep them company.

[Zeta Seven is departing from the Boss battlefield for hopefully greener pastures]