The Remnants

"Huh," Blake muttered as he watched half of the team disappear into the clouds. "I guess that leaves us with the other objective… Metacorps, was it?"

"Where even is that place, anyway?" Bernicia wondered. "We're going out completely blind, with no leads on its location whatsoever."

"Kit and Travis are doing the same thing," Blake replied. "How are they going to find one person in such a big city? Heck, is Travis's mom even in the city?"

"Huh. Well, when you put it that way, I guess it'll be easier for us, 'cause buildings don't really move," Bernicia figured.

"Hey. Before we head out, let's see if the rubble has any weapons in it," Blake suggested.

"Oh, yeah, yours did break," Bernicia nodded. "You think the weapons room will even be accessible, though?"

"It's worth a shot," Blake shrugged.

As they approached the debilitated edifice, they heard someone's voice: "Open, you stupid piece of glass!"

"Hey, that sounded like the Guy," Blake noted.

"Let's clobber him." Bernicia hefted her sword, and the two of them made a stealthy approach.

They found the Guy just outside of the rubble. He was kneeling next to two huge orbs, intently focused on some kind of small interface in his hands. Judging from the trails, it looked like he had rolled them out here. They glowed yellow in the twilight.

"Come on," he muttered. "Can't lose you now."

"Heh. Still got tricks up your sleeve, pal?" Bernicia called. "Give it up!"

The Guy glanced at them, and they were mildly surprised to see tears on his face. "I don't have time for you guys," he said. "I have to hack these metastasis pods before they die."

"Huh? There's something inside of them? What's going on?" Blake inquired.

The Guy looked back at the orbs. "They must be saved."

"Could you hurry up and make sense already?" Bernicia demanded.

"I made it so only Joseph could open these," the Guy fretted. "If they stay inside of a dysfunctional metastasis pod for too long, they'll asphyxiate, and the death toll will now be seven. Ironic, isn't it… I can't breach my own program because I programmed it too well…" He sat back, defeated.

What, you aren't man enough to break your own toys? Blake thought.

That made the Guy perk up. Of course! How could he have been so closed-minded?

Smash! The lock panels on each pod easily gave way to the Guy's armored fists, and the pods popped open. Inside were two humanoid entities…

One was a dark-skinned girl, with a long wavy black ponytail that turned white at the ends, and the other was a pale-skinned boy, with straight green hair that stopped at the nape of his neck.

Most fascinating, though, were their graceful, streamlined aeronaut wings. Their scales looked smooth, making the wings resemble fresh leaves, or fairies maybe.

"Huh," Blake said.

"Hey! Weren't there four to a generation?" Bernicia demanded.

"The blast destroyed their pods," the Guy wearily explained. "If you hadn't done something so stupid, needless deaths could have been avoided."

"That was Kit's idea, for the record," Bernicia disclaimed.

The dark-skinned girl stirred. "Uhm? Where…?" She looked around, blinking in the deepening shadows. Then she caught sight of the Guy. "Marc! What's going on?"

"I see these fellas have night vision as well," Blake muttered.

"Your name is Marc?" Bernicia sounded incredulous.

"That's irrelevant," the Guy snapped. "Angelina! Is Fern awake? We need to get out of here."

Angelina stood up. "Hey, Marc? Who are those guys?"

"Whoever they are, I'll clobber 'em," the other aeronaut (Fern?) groggily muttered. Once he got a good look at Bernicia, though, he suddenly tumbled out of his pod. "I… oof. Told you we weren't the only ones!"

"That was Diane who thought that," Angelina told him.

"Well… I never disagreed with her," Fern stated. "Hey, Juniper," he said, looking at Blake. "You didn't dis—"

The silence that followed felt kind of awkward.

"I'm Blake, actually. And this is Bernicia," Blake said. "We're Gen 3 aeronauts. So, uhm, like you said, you aren't the only ones."

"Ah." Fern seemed to deflate at this. "So they didn't make it."

"Why'd you guys come back here, anyway?" the Guy grumbled.

"We're heading off to the Metacorps HQ to find clues on what Atticus is up to," Bernicia explained. "But since you broke my pal's stick, we need to find him a new one."

"If I call you 'dark pixie girl', will you let me speak for myself?" Blake grumbled.

"Haha, tempting."

"Salvaging, huh…" the Guy observed the spread of rubble in the darkness. "I know I left a few models around here," he muttered. "But then, if they ran out of fuel…"

"Hey, Marc." Fern walked up to him. "We're heading over. What're you just standing around for?"

"Oh. I was just wondering about my flyboards," the Guy replied. "I need some way to keep up with you guys, after all."

"Ahh, I don't think those new guys are too stoked to have you along," Fern noted. "They'll probably ditch you in a heartbeat."

"Guys! I found a trapdoor," Blake called. "Help me get this thing open!"

Once everyone convened, the Guy took a look. "Ugh, another Joseph-only lock. What's even under here, anyway…?"

"I found this heat riser," Bernicia said, holding up a cylinder-shaped tool with a photon cell sticking out of it.

"Ooh, let me blast the hatch with it," Angelina excitedly suggested.

"That's not how those work," the Guy protested.

Heedless of his words, Bernicia handed over the tool. Angelina took aim, and a beam of concentrated light shot out, making the trapdoor soft and red-hot. "Okay, someone break it before it cools," she instructed.

The Guy sighed, but glumly obliged, kicking in the molten metal with an armored foot. Yet another perfectly salvageable panel destroyed! How could such crude methods still be effective?

"And hup-!" Bernicia and Blake hopped in without a moment's hesitation. Soon their voices echoed up: "Whoa! Check out all these I-bots."

"Really? How many are there? Ah, never mind; we're coming down," Fern called, slowing his descent with his wings.

"Sure, sure," the Guy muttered, taking the ladder.

The chamber was only half filled with dysfunctional I-bots. The other half more closely resembled a garage. Near the ramp sat a smallish six-wheeled vehicle with an open cockpit.

The Guy walked over and took a look. "Hey," he realized, "I remember designing this thing. It's called the Tetrider."

"Is it… useful?" Bernicia doubtfully asked.

"You better believe it! This baby can hit a hundred fifty kilos per hour on uneven terrain without jostling the driver, thanks to the resonance equalizers in its suspension."

"Heh. Someone's excited," Fern snickered.

The Guy hit another button on the wall, and a door at the top of the ramp opened. "Now I'm ready to rumble," he said, jumping into his Tetrider and powering it up.

"Not bad," Blake muttered. "We were gonna ditch him if he proved to be a liability, but…"

"Hey. With these communicators, we can easily fan out and search the area," Bernicia said, handing one out to everyone. "It said they have a range of fifty kilometers."

"Looks like we're in good shape, then," Fern said. "Marc said you were going to Metacorps, right? We should stick together for now."

"Sure," Blake nodded. "Guess I'll just nab a weapon later."