Welcome to Gaia! ::

For an unknown length of time, Adora sat there, shackled to the cold metal chair, the injury on the left side of her head throbbing slowly. At least the pain was ebbing away, she thought with some form of relief. She supposed Zero hadn’t been lying when he had called for medics to tend to her.

However, that was the least of Adora’s worries right now. She wondered what was to happen to her. She wondered about Jeb, about Wyatt, the two people she could never make herself forget. Was Wyatt still alive? She had lost track of how many times she had asked herself that question, yet it kept returning to her, repeating over and over in her mind, demanding an answer. However, she couldn’t provide one. Perhaps she’d never know. And that was what tormented her the most. She had to know . . .

And what about Jeb? What was to become of him? Would she ever see him again? And what if she could never be broken, and was forced to stay locked up here until her life slipped away?

Adora firmly shook her head. No, she should not think like that! No, she wouldn’t be broken, but, no, she would not die here. She refused to accept such a fate! Though, she had to admit that dying here would be better than having to face the fear she felt every day; the fear of vulnerability, of being unsafe. There had been no advancements on her the past few days, but it was a fear that always lingered in the back of her mind. After what happened that one night at the camp on the road from her home, Adora could not shake that fear away. And still Zero’s words echoed in her mind: “I’ll be saving you for later.”

A sudden shiver ran up Adora’s spine at that memory. Would Zero keep to his word about that? She prayed to the gods he wouldn’t. She hoped that all it was was his way of getting to her mind, to make her think that something was going to happen, and therefore keep her in total fear, making her easier to break. But again, Adora had to remind herself that she was stronger than that, that she would remain strong. She had to, for Wyatt, for Jeb.

Time ticked by slowly. Adora tapped her heeled boots against the metal floor just to keep herself from being bored to death. She knew there was no way of getting out. Already her wrists felt raw from rubbing them against the shackles too much.

Hours passed. Adora was getting hungry – hungrier, actually, since she was hungry all the time since being taken to this compound – and she yearned for a drink of fresh water. But she already knew that the Longcoats would deny her such necessities – they were trying to break her, after all. So, Adora simply tried her best to ignore it, even if her stomach growled insistently at her and her throat became scratchy. After some time, Adora found herself becoming sleepy, and, not being able to do anything else, she allowed it to take over her, her head flopping over as sleep embraced her.

She woke up a while later feeling hungrier than ever and still thirsty, and her body was sore from sitting in the chair for such a long time. Occasionally, she could hear footsteps passing by outside the door, but none bothered to stop.

Unable to move, Adora looked herself over, noting how her once snow-white dress was now stained with dirt and dust, and how it frayed a bit on the edges. Her boots were scuffed. The wide leather belt she wore around her waist appeared to be the only article of clothing that had not been affected. She looked at her hands – they were dirty, a few small cuts on her fingers from the rough conditions she had suffered. And she was glad to see that her wedding ring, a simple gold band, still sat comfortably on her finger. Now it really was Adora’s last reminder of Wyatt.

Without Adora knowing it, a day had gone by. She found herself slipping in and out of sleep, for it was the only thing she could do to keep her mind off of how hungry she was, as well as the fact that there was nothing she could do here. One time, she was woken by a quick sliding sound, and she snapped her head up to see a pair of eyes staring in at her from the small viewport in the door. And, just as quickly, the slide closed.

As the second day passed – though, Adora couldn’t be sure, for time seemed to forever stand still in this windowless cell – she began to realize just how alone she was here. She didn’t have Jeb to hold to by her side, and Wyatt was long gone from her presence. No human contact. And this loneliness began to eat at her, begging her to call out for her son, her husband, but she knew it would do her no good. She wanted Wyatt – she wanted to know if he was alive. Without wanting to, Adora broke out in tears at the very thought of him. She cried softly, quietly, for she did not want her captors to hear her; it would show that she had weakness. But she soon quieted herself, allowing the tears to dry upon her face.

Another day came and gone. Adora no longer felt hunger, for she was now too weak to even notice. She had slept for most of the time, but her sleep was erratic, incomplete, dozing off for an hour or two only to wake up again, and the cycle would continue in that fashion. She yearned now more than ever to be back with her family. But what was she to do? In this place, she was powerless. She couldn’t do anything. She didn’t even know if there was a way she and Jeb could escape anymore. She was done.

All of a sudden, the door to the cell finally opened. Adora lifted her head slowly, feeling a slight surge of hope rise within her. Did this mean they would finally take her back to Jeb? However, Adora didn’t know what to think, for Zero stepped in, the door closing firmly behind him. She hadn’t seen him in several days, and seeing him again swiftly reminded her how much she despised him. There was no way she could banish that hatred away – it was burrowed too deep.

Wetting her lips with the little bit of saliva she still had under her tongue, Adora asked in a weak voice, “Where are your other thugs, Zero?”

Zero stepped forward into the dim light. “They’re outside,” he said simply. As Adora looked upon him now, she noticed something different about him. No, it wasn’t his face. It was his clothing. He still wore his black leather coat – which, Adora noticed now, was deceptively complex, made up of several different pieces – but the armor he used to wear on his left arm was gone. She had to admit, he looked different without it on.

“I have something for you,” Zero explained with a slightly smug look, and from his belt he pulled out a long strip of ribbon, a little over an inch in width. He lifted it into the light, and Adora could see how it shimmered a pale yellow. It was her ribbon.

Still dangling it in front of him, Zero paced around the chair, coming to a stop behind Adora. Adora whipped her head about, trying to see what Zero was doing, but his hands grabbed hold of the base of her skull, and she froze. She then became aware of Zero running his hands through her hair, gathering it up into a loose ponytail, then winding the ribbon around it and tying it tight enough to hold her hair in place.

“That’s better,” he said, almost to himself.

Adora heard his heavy footsteps, and he was back in front of her. Without a word, Zero bent over, releasing the restraints that held Adora’s wrists. Instinctively, Adora brought her arms close to her body, rubbing her sore wrists, glad to finally be free from the shackles. She looked up at Zero, and only one thought dwelled on her mind: “Wyatt . . . Is he . . . ?”

“Alive?” Zero finished for her. “Of course he is.”

Adora couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but his words nevertheless caused her head to perk up. “Then . . . then release him!” she demanded in a firm yet weak voice. “Please! I . . . I beg you!”

Zero looked at her, his expression unchanging.

Not receiving an answer, Adora’s eyes inexplicably welled-up with tears that would not shed. “Please!” she repeated, her hands curling into tight fists. “I’m begging you! I . . .” Her mind raced, her mouth fumbling for words. “I will do anything! Just . . . just please . . . let Wyatt go . . . You’ve done enough . . .” Her head dropped, her voice fading off into a soft sob. She felt so weak right now, not only physically, but in spirit, too. If she could not be freed from this prison, then she’d at least want Wyatt to be freed from his. She could not live knowing that her beloved husband was being tortured himself, and not be able to ever see him.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, Adora . . .”

Adora snapped her head back up. Zero looked down at her, and Adora was conscious of how his eyes flicked up and down her, though it was only over the course of a split-second. Her gut knotted without conscious thought. She had seen that look before too many times in the past, though they had all been from harmless deadbeats as she and Wyatt had walked the streets of Central City. Even those men had unnerved her, but Wyatt had been by her side, and no one even dared to mess with the couple knowing that Wyatt was a Tin Man. But this . . . This was different. This was not a harmless deadbeat, and Wyatt was not here to ensure her safety. Adora was smart enough to recognize that look in an instant.

Before Adora could react, Zero reached forward, grabbing her by her left wrist and yanking her out of the chair. She let out a cry, and she found herself be spun around, her back pressed against Zero’s chest. She froze, wanting to move, to run away, but her muscles would not allow her. She could feel his breath on her ear. Then, she felt his hand against her stomach. He slowly ran it down her abdomen, feeling her, coming down to her pelvis.

Tensing, Adora drove the heel of her boot down on Zero’s foot, causing him to release her with a curse. She started forward, trying to get away from him, her heart pounding, and she found herself in a déjà-vu situation, Zero’s hand grabbing hold of her hair, being pulled back towards him. This time, he turned her to face him, and she could see the scowl that was on his face at this moment. Without warning, he struck her across the face hard, sending her falling to the ground, and she groaned, her head spinning.

When Adora managed to open her eyes, she panicked slightly as she saw Zero undoing the buckle that secured the top layer of his coat. She scampered backwards along the floor, her legs suddenly unable to work properly. But Zero was quick, and he strode towards her, dropping down on his knees so that he was on top of her. He then pinned her arms down with his hands, and brought his mouth close to her ear.

“You did say you’d do anything . . .” he whispered, a smile apparent in his voice. He then pulled his face away, looking down at her. His teeth showed through a leering grin.

Adora was sweating now. Zero released her arms, bringing his hands up to slip off the top jacket. He undid his thick belt, tossing it aside. Then, he reached up to grab the zipper at the base of the high collar of the long coat underneath and brought it down in a swift motion. Adora’s mind screamed at her to move, to get away, to do something, but movement was impossible. Zero had her lower body pinned, and the muscles in her abdomen were too weak to bring her up in order to successfully reach him with her hands. If she could, she’d readily push him off, strangle him, whatever it took. But she couldn’t. The days without food had taken their toll.

Zero took off his coat, revealing the black tank top and pants he wore underneath. He flashed a grin before then grabbing at Adora’s belt, undoing the buckle. Now was her chance! Quickly, she attempted to grab at his hands, her fingers successfully wrapping around his wrists. The two struggled, but Zero proved to be stronger, and Adora’s hold broke.

After her belt had been undone, Zero’s fingers then worked at the buttons on the top of Adora’s dress. Not swayed by her earlier attempt, Adora lashed out at Zero blindly, hoping to pry his hands away, or even try to hurt him. Her nails scratched against his arms, but none were even close to breaking the skin, and this did not stop Zero as he yanked her up by her shoulders in order to slip her dress off. She cried out against him, tears blinding her vision. She felt utterly helpless, but fear and desperation drove her.

“Quit struggling,” Zero hissed between breaths, for he found himself working harder than he had planned at getting Adora undressed. “You still want to wear this later, right?” He let Adora fall hard onto her back, getting off of her only long enough to slip off the rest of the dress and the lighter layer that was underneath.

Adora squeezed her eyes shut. She was breathing hard, her pulse frantic. He didn’t have much further to go. Her body shivered at the cold air that touched her skin, but she wasn’t completely exposed yet. Zero was back on top of her now, the full weight of his body pressed against her, his legs straddling her hips. While Adora’s eyes had been closed out of fear, Zero had removed his boots and his pants, leaving him only in his tank top and black boxer shorts. He held her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that wet her cheeks, his face just inches away from Adora’s. In a desperate act, Adora managed to spit at his face, and her nails dug into his biceps. Zero didn’t even bother wiping the spit away this time, simply looking at her with a half-amused, half-irritated expression.

His expression then turned lascivious as he declared in a low voice, his hands gripping her face, “I’m going to enjoy breaking you . . .”



Adora was thrown into her and Jeb’s cell with a rough shove, falling to the ground in a limp heap. Her eyes were blinded by uncontrollable tears, and every part of her body hurt. She couldn’t even move. All she could do was lay where she fell face-down, her face in her arms, her body shaking. She was crying the hardest she probably ever had in her life, but this time she did not stifle her cries, instead allowing them to come out, ragged and pitiful. She didn’t move, for if Jeb was in the cell, she did not want him to see the untidiness of her clothes or the blood that had soaked through her dress. She had never felt such pain before.

Adora kept her eyes shut tight, trying to squeeze out the memories of what she had just experienced, but they refused to let her be, though Adora knew that it had only been a few minutes since it had occurred. Nevertheless, they were strong memories, already haunting her. She recalled how Zero – gods curse him! – had ruthlessly violated her, taking apparent pleasure in every moment, even when Adora had fought back with all of her strength. She had tried to escape him, and she had screamed and she had cried, but that had only made Zero more merciless in his actions, as if he had been feeding off of Adora’s pain and fear. She remembered how she had almost felt like vomiting when he had stuck his tongue in her mouth when he kissed her. He even had bit her, leaving marks on her bottom lip, her neck, and her ears. She fought against him to the bitter end, never feeling an ounce of pleasure, even at the moment’s peak, for every action hurt her.

And now Adora was left with those horrible memories, unable to banish them from her mind. Even if she tried, the pain she felt reminded her again, and she cried, wanting nothing more than to be released from this hell; wanting nothing more than to be with Wyatt again.

And she realized now that Zero had won – She was finally broken.

Days came and went for Adora and Jeb, each day following the same routine of torture, malnourishment, and short periods of sleep. Even as a week passed by, Adora never even dared to tell Jeb about her horrifying ordeal with Zero, nor did she give any explanation for the condition of her body. As far as Jeb was concerned, Adora was restrained for several days while being beaten by a Longcoat.

Weeks passed. Occasionally, the routine would be changed, and the two would receive several days of solitary confinement, and other days they’d be given no food or water at all. And still other days – though this was rare on occasion – the Longcoats would prevent either of them for sleeping for a full day or more. And, during this period, Adora and Jeb spoke less and less, instead allowing the comfort of being in one another’s arms do the talking, for that was all that could be said.

Weeks turned into months, and neither Adora nor Jeb could determine when one day ended and another began. On top of being given little food and water, they were granted few bathroom breaks, and “showers” comprised of a bucket of cold water being dumped on them while still in their clothes, though those were rare, perhaps once every few weeks.

Months became a year, which then turned into yet another. During this time, Adora found Zero coming back for her for his own twisted pleasure again and again. Sometimes he’d come once a week, other times only once a month. And each time he did, he grew leaner, more muscular, and therefore stronger. Adora began to notice his hair lighten up into a sandy-blonde, and his small goatee became more prominent as he kept his face relatively clean-shaved. He grew increasingly more violent with each incident, sometimes beating Adora senseless before – or even while – raping her. It got to the point where Adora no longer fought back, unable to do anything to stop Zero from having his way with her. And once – and this was only once – Adora found her body reveling in the moment of climax, even though her mind screamed out against it.

And over those years, Adora still begged Zero to free her husband, for she had not forgotten about him, and she still did not tell Jeb a single word about what Zero was doing to her. It was to be her horrible secret, and she told herself she would rather take it with her to her grave before she even thought about mentioning it aloud. As the incidents continued, Adora prayed for herself, clutching her abdomen in apprehension, for now her worst fear was to have one of Zero’s sexual acts result in her bearing a child – his child. Again, she’d rather die than have to live with such a fate, for nothing could be more degrading to herself. But after two years had passed and Adora felt no change in her physical state, she found a huge weight be lifted from her chest, though she still lived in fear for as long as Zero continued to use her.

As for Jeb, he was fighting a battle of his own. The Longcoats cared not if he was just a kid, they still beat him. Sometimes one of the Longcoats would allow Jeb to try to fight back, circling the boy as he charged blindly at the men he hated, only to knock him senseless to the ground. There were times when Jeb literally lost consciousness due to his attackers’ actions. And during every encounter, whether it was with a nameless Longcoat or even Zero himself, Jeb would demand to know the fate of his father, for, like Adora, he hadn’t forgotten him either. The Longcoats would simply laugh, and would tell him that his father was most likely dead by now, that there was no hope in rescuing him. Jeb did his best not to believe a word of it, telling himself that his father was in fact still alive. However, the more they repeated it to him, the more he began to believe their words. And as the years passed, Jeb continued to remind himself what his father had taught him, and even though his beatings were violent, he persevered, becoming steadily stronger, more cunning. However, he kept his new survival skills a secret from the Longcoats, for if they saw what he was becoming, they’d as soon find a way to break it out of him.

Nearly a year passed . . .

Jeb – now a tall, thin-bodied boy in his early teens with thick sandy-brown hair – sat impatiently in the dreaded torture chair he had grown to live with. Today was different, however – the chair was turned so that it was facing away from the door, and his arms were forced back, his hands shackled at the wrists behind the back of the chair, placing strain on his shoulders. He wet his lips, which were slightly swollen from bruises and small cuts, breathing as calmly as he could while he remained in the uncomfortable position, wondering silently to himself how long it would be before the Longcoats came back to deal with him as they pleased.

In no time at all, his question was answered as the door opened with a shrill creak and the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Jeb tried to look behind him, to see who it was, but the individual revealed himself, coming around to stand in front of the boy. It was Zero, looking colder and more intimidating than he did when Jeb first laid eyes on him. Jeb thought that Zero would prove to be less menacing as the boy grew older, but there was something about him over the past few years that made this man grow more and more wicked. However, what was different now was that Jeb no longer feared him.

“We’re going to try something different today,” Zero said in a voice that was trying to sound friendly, a false smile creasing his face with heavy lines.

Jeb spoke not a word, simply looking Zero straight in the eye with no fear whatsoever.

Zero’s smile widened, then turned his gaze towards the door which had been left open. With a nod, he ordered, “Bring it in.”

Jeb gave a quizzical look. Bring what in? As several men stepped into the room, Jeb again tried to look over his shoulders, but to no avail. He then looked up at Zero, who was smiling down at him smugly. Whatever Zero had in store for him, it couldn’t be good.

Several Longcoats stepped into the room, placing something down on the ground behind Jeb’s chair. Still smiling, Zero walked behind him, and Jeb could hear him pick something up, something that sounded sharp, metal sliding against metal like a pair of shears. Without wanting to, Jeb found himself sweating. Then, a Longcoat grabbed hold of one of his hands. Jeb tensed.

“What are you doing?” Jeb demanded in a shaky voice. He could feel Zero’s presence looming over him like a dark shadow. Then, Zero grabbed Jeb’s fingers.

Jeb’s heart was pounding in his chest as he suddenly came to realize what Zero had planned. He felt every muscle tense, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He tried to clench his hand, but Zero’s hold was tight, and it felt like he could break his fingers with just the slightest pressure.

“St-stop!” Jeb suddenly shouted, his eyes slammed shut so much that it practically hurt. He felt Zero’s hold on his fingers loosen slightly.

“Please! Don’t do this!” Jeb’s maturing voice cracked. He was breathing hard, tears beginning to build in his blue-gray eyes.

Then, Zero and the Longcoat let go of Jeb’s hand completely. Zero walked back in front of him, his hands obscuring whatever it was he was holding. He was smiling as he looked down on the trembling boy.

“Very well,” Zero said with a smirk and a nod, bringing up what he was holding so that Jeb could see. To Jeb’s shock and sudden embarrassment, it was nothing more than two silver spoons, which, when tapped and slid against one another, mimicked the sound of cleavers. Zero’s grin was the largest Jeb had ever seen it, and he practically chuckled with amusement as he then walked back towards the door, ruffling Jeb’s hair with a hand as he passed by.

The next thing Jeb knew, the Longcoats released his arms, pushing him out of the chair and yanking him up onto his feet. Jeb was sweating profusely, his heartbeat now a fluttering gallop in his throat. He felt too ashamed and flustered to say a word, and the Longcoats shoved him out of the room, bringing him back to the cell where his mother waited.

Jeb fell onto his hands and knees into a puddle of dirty water. He stayed there, now feeling uncontrollable anger. With a low groan, he gnashed his teeth together and slammed a fist against the wet ground, cursing Zero, the Longcoats, and himself. How could he have possibly been so foolish, so naïve, to have fallen for Zero’s little mind game? It was sick, that’s all it was! He should have seen it coming . . .

“Jeb,” the weak voice of his mother whispered through the darkness.

Jeb lifted his head at her voice, his tears leaving trails through the dirt on his cheeks. Adora was seated against the wall, wearing the same dress she had come in with, though it was now trashed with dirt and blood, and she had since misplaced her boots. Her hair was undone and filthy, falling past her shoulders in greasy strands. Her eyes had since lost their fire, and she now looked far older than she should have for only having nearly three years pass.

The torture and the poor conditions had obviously taken their toll on her, but there was something else, something Jeb could only feel. Ever since she had been returned to him after not seeing her for several days three years ago, she had grown quiet, rarely speaking a word to him. She became more private, and every time a Longcoat came into the cell, she would curl up into a corner and hold tightly onto her body. She didn’t even fight back anymore, and fear seemed to have moved in where courage and determination once stood. And not once did she speak Zero’s name, and whenever Jeb would mention it, Adora would immediately freeze-up. Whatever torture it was she was going through, it must have been far worse than anything Jeb could imagine.

However, what hadn’t been changed about her was her undying love for Jeb. The only time she smiled was when he looked upon her, and he could see just how much her muscles relaxed when in her presence.

Jeb got up onto his feet, ready to go over to comfort his mother, when a low rumble from somewhere on the first level of the compound caused him to freeze.

“What was that . . . ?” Adora inquired, staring at Jeb with wide eyes.

Another rumble sounded, followed by hurried footsteps, muted shouts, and the sound of hand guns and rifles being fired. Jeb and Adora stared at one another, both wondering frantically about what was happening. The commotion then grew louder, obviously working its way down the stairs to the underground level where they were held. Neither Adora nor Jeb moved a muscle, their attention now turned to the cell door as if something was going to happen any second.

The next moment, something did indeed happen. Without warning, the metal door was swung open, smoke billowing in as several forms stood in the doorway. Adora cringed reflexively, while Jeb readied himself despite the weakness in his legs. However, the two then realized that it was not Longcoats who stood before them, but rather a small group of men. Each held a weapon of some sort in their hands, ranging from a stolen Longcoat rifle to a crudely-made axe. They were all dressed in common-looking clothes, dirtied and frayed at the edges, complete with bandoliers, headbands, and equipment satchels.

“We got two over here!” one of the men shouted over his shoulder, most likely to another group somewhere in the hallway. The man stepped inside, and Adora and Jeb could now see that he was quite young, probably no older than his early twenties. “There’s no time to waste!” he said in a rushed voice. “We gotta get out of here now!”

Jeb blinked, staring at the man. As soon as the words finally clicked, he hurried over to his mother, reaching down to help her up onto her feet. The young man stepped forward to help, propping up Adora’s other arm, which she then wrapped around his shoulders. She felt extremely weak, and her legs felt as if they would give out from underneath her. But she shook it off, trying as best she could to keep up with Jeb and the man’s steps. The men who stood outside the door motioned the three along, weapons up and ready, no doubt to watch their backs as they escaped.

As they hurried down the many halls and worked their way up the stairs, Adora couldn’t help but pass it up as a dream. Was this really happening? Were they really being freed from this horrible place? Whether or not it was a dream, Adora found strength returning to her shaky legs, the prospect of freedom driving her forward. They continued down the halls, and both Adora and Jeb could see the many bodies of dead or injured Longcoats and of their rescuers that littered the compound, bullet holes and scorch marks from grenades scarring the walls.

Then, the outline of the door to the outside came into view, further driving them. Before they knew it, they were outside, the bright sunlight blinding Jeb and Adora, for they had not seen the light of day for nearly three long years. A crisp breeze kissed their faces, and the scent of smoke, soil, and pine filled their nostrils. Both would have wanted nothing more than to rest themselves on the very ground they stood upon just to enjoy what they had been deprived of for so long, but the situation would not allow it, and the young man led them to another group of men who were standing by a cart and several horses. Looking around, Jeb and Adora could see the damage this group had caused, having blown-in the iron gate, set fire to the watchtowers, and having slaughtered many Longcoats. In that moment, both realized who these men were and why they did what they did:

Resistance fighters!

With a rush of orders, the young man and several others helped Adora and Jeb into the cart, which they then noticed was occupied by several other individuals, all looking as ragged and beaten as they did now and encompassing a range of ages, class status, and genders. Adora could not help but wonder what these people had done to be placed in their same situation. However, she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Several minutes later, more Resistance fighters poured out of the compound, accompanied by still more prisoners who were also placed in the cart. When everyone was accounted for, the men pulled themselves up onto their horses – which no doubt were stolen from the Longcoat stables – and rushed forward without a moment’s delay. The cart jolted as it was pulled forward along the rough soil, led out of the open gate, and into the welcoming wilderness.

And, in that moment, Adora and Jeb were finally free.




Staring at the damage around him, Zero couldn’t help but curse. Smoke from the blasted watchtowers, fence, and other small fires stung his gray eyes, and he could practically smell the carnage that lay about. He winced slightly as a sharp pain tore through his right shoulder. He brought up a hand, gently touching the ragged bullet hole in the leather of his coat. He felt his fingers touch blood.

Brushing the minor injury aside, Zero then turned to face the group of a dozen or so other Longcoats who stood with him outside the compound. “Tell me,” he began, pointing a bloody finger at the burning watchtower, “just what the hell happened here!” His infuriation was clearly visible on his face, his brows furrowed together, his teeth clenched. His eyes were alight with a raging fire.

“They were Resistance fighters, sir,” one man explained through sharp breaths, his hand clutching an injury in his abdomen.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Zero roared, looking as if he would pounce upon the man at any moment. “What I want to know is how in the hell they managed to find this compound, kill almost all of the men stationed here, and then somehow managed to free all of the prisoners! That’s what I <********> want to know!”

No man could provide an answer, rendered speechless and motionless by Zero’s near-homicidal outburst. For the greenhorns of the group, this was the first time they had seen Zero act out in such a way, and it utterly terrified them.

However, these men were saved by the sound of a whinnying horse and the clop of hooves, and everyone turned instantly to see a small group of Longcoats making their way on horseback into the flaming ruins. For a reason unknown, the man at the forefront of the group did not appear in the least bit surprised by what he saw around him. This man walked his horse towards Zero, coming to a stop in front of him.

“Captain Zero,” the man began, calmly. “General Lonot sends word: the sorceress Azkadellia is requesting you and your men’s immediate return to the tower.”

Zero stared up at the man for a brief second, all the rage suddenly melting off of his face. Then, a slight smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Let me guess – She foresaw this attack coming. She knows we’re done here, and wants us to give her a full report?”

“That would be correct, Captain,” the man replied with a simple nod.
Thank the gods for Viewers, Zero couldn’t help but think to himself. If it wasn’t for them, Azkadellia probably would have had no knowledge of this incident, and no Longcoat would even think twice about being the first to inform her. Consequences of such mishaps were usually dire. Well, Zero thought, at least the Viewers have lessened the blow . . .

“Very well,” Zero declared, ignoring another acute sting in his shoulder. “Problem is, the damned Resistance fighters confiscated all of our horses.”

The man shrugged with an indifferent look. “Then, quite frankly sir, I’m sorry to say that you and your men will just have to walk.”

Zero allowed a quiet curse to slip his lips. However, he kept any complaints he felt to himself, for he knew that arguing with a man who outranked him would get him nowhere. So, he let the subject drop, instead requesting that as soon as it was possible, they should have the injured tended to their wounds. This was agreed upon, and the group started forward, the bitterness of defeat leaving a very sour taste in their mouths.

As Zero trudged along, he found his mind not at all at ease. The Resistance fighters had taken them completely by surprise, and it was because of that that they had managed to inflict so much collateral damage. Zero himself had found himself facing the muzzle of a gun, and if it hadn’t been for his quick actions, he probably would have suffered a more serious wound. Good thing he had killed the man before anymore injury could be done. However, what bit Zero the hardest was the fact that the son and wife of Wyatt Cain had been among the prisoners freed. They had escaped his grasp, and there was no telling where they were headed off to next. He still was not done with them, nor did he think he ever would be for as long as Wyatt was alive and suffering in the Iron Suit.

But now . . . now things had changed. Adora and Jeb were now in the hands of the Resistance, the same men Wyatt had worked with, and what had brought his terrible sentence upon him in the first place. Because of the new change in events, Zero now knew what had to be done: Cain’s family would be shown no mercy. If Zero had to, he’d hunt them down himself. Maybe he’d have them killed, or perhaps only kill one so that the other could watch on, just as Cain had been forced to watch as his family had been tormented on that day three years ago. Yes, that’d be justice enough . . . And, with luck, Zero would be granted the chance for just such an opportunity, and when it came, he’d savor it for every ounce of pleasure it would give him.