The world outside of the walls is a barren wasteland of rocky ground and thin, shifting sheets of sand. It is completely flat with only a caliginous promise of mountains on the horizon. The plants that occasionally crop up are unlike anything found inside the walls due to natural selection, and any animals that would have existed have been completely devoured by the monsters that hide in every long shadow. Other than the walls themselves, there is nothing manmade out here for miles except for the asphalt road that will eventually deliver anyone wandering along the road to the science outpost, the last bastion of mankind in the unforgiving known world.

Kistune is sprawled out in the passenger seat. He pulled the lever at some point that dropped his seat into a diagonal angle. Luckily, Mamacita is curled up in a ball in her seat, so she doesn't have a need for leg space. The two of them passed out pretty early in the trip. Kitsune claimed it was to save his energy for the fight. Mamacita didn't give any excuses as she pulled her legs to her chest, burying her face in her arms. Vermillion would have said something to her, but she was completely closed off from everyone. She even turned around to face the window, and Vermillion knew she couldn't be doing that for the view.

Vermillion was awake. He wanted to doze off, but the car's constant motion was keeping him conscious. He was forced to stare out at the dry lands that used to be all he knew. He didn't have any specific memories, but the entire aesthetic of the cracked ground beneath the evening sun reminded him of the place that he had been running from his entire life. He couldn't run anymore, though. No, he had to be delivered to his adversary on a silver platter. Or, he thinks, he's being delivered inside a black car.

Monarch is also awake. It isn't a surprise since they're the one driving. Vermillion sometimes turns his attention away from the window to the back of the driver seat's headrest. He can see the soft curls of Monarch's hair, but he doesn't need the physical evidence to inform him that Monarch is there. He can feel it in his bones because here is someone that Vermillion has been running from for a lot longer than he's been running from everyone else. Monarch was the first person Vermillion turned on, and it wasn't entirely for no reason. It wasn't for a good reason, either, but at least Vermillion had something other than himself to blame.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Monarch's voice filled the entire car even though they were speaking in a soft tone. A reason for this could be that the radio was off and the air conditioning unit was put on low, but Vermillion knew that it was mainly because Monarch just had that sort of voice. It was the kind of voice that authority figures possessed, or really just those completely confident and sure of themself. It wasn't enough to be cocky; it was literally someone who knew exactly what they were capable of. It was no surprise that Monarch had chosen that title when their voice sounded like that.

"Been fucking trying. Can't sleep," Vermillion responded, intentionally pushing his knees into the back of Monarch's seat. If Vermillion was cursed with anything- other than an unfortunate life- it would be this: he kept pushing. Vermillion kept pushing people, more and more, harsher and louder, until they broke. And when people broke, Vermillion ran. He pushed his way into people's lives until he nearly took it all up, and then he would leave. He would draw out the absolute worst in people, and he would be gone before the consequences caught up to him. The only consequences he really experienced was his own loneliness, but that was a negligible part of the curse. Everything else, he escaped unscathed. It wasn't so much a habit as it was an instinct, at this point. It was his very nature to ruin people. It was his own mindset that stopped him from accepting what would befall him.

"I can put a lullaby on if that would help," Monarch said, lifting up his communicator. Vermillion tilted his head to see that there was an aux cord plugged into the car, ready for someone to hook up their advice and blare whatever music they wanted. Vermillion wondered whose car this was. If it was the association's, he doubted they would just have an aux cord. He didn't think Monarch, Kitsune, or Mamacita would simply carry one around.

"Fuck off. I don't need a dumb lullaby," Vermillion snapped. He felt like a caged feral animal. He was lashing out with anger that he didn't really feel. He was reaching into his heart for pain that wasn't caused by Monarch.

"I won't play a lullaby, then," Monarch conceded. Vermillion felt a fuse light up inside him, and he nudged his knee harder into Monarch's chair. The spark sputtered out almost instantly, but the thought behind it continued circulating through his mind. Why wasn't Monarch angry with him? He didn't understand Monarch's niceties. He could understand if Monarch was being civil with him, but all that would entail was ignoring Vermillion. Instead, they were going out of their way to offer Vermillion unnecessary luxuries. Vermillion was hoping that Monarch would take the first opportunity to argue with him. He needed someone to tell him off, or he would continue being the curse that he was.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Vermillion asks point-blank. He doesn't have the time or mental capacity for games. All he can do is goad Monarch into a fight, but none of his childish actions have had a result as of yet.

"I am driving you, me, Kitsune, and your friend over there to this outpost. I was given orders to do so by the association after we received a tip from... from an ally. Well, Kitsune was given the orders to come. I volunteered," Monarch answered smoothly. There was a brief pause in their speech, but other than that, it was like a trickling stream in the winter months. Monarch rarely stuttered over their words. They always sounded so completely thought out that most wondered if they had the words prepared in advance. Monarch made an interesting person to argue with.

"Why the fuck would you volunteer for this shit? There's nothing to see out here. Nothing to do. And I can guarantee that there aren't any adoring fans to fawn over you," Vermillion bites back, his attention snapping away from Monarch and to the window. He can see, for a brief second, his own reflection staring back at him. He hasn't looked at himself in a mirror in a long time. He avoids them because he despises the white streak in his normally blonde hair. He can never fully hide it no matter what hairstyle he tries out. He can't cut it, either. He's stuck with that one signifying trait that tells everyone who looks at him that he isn't supposed to be alive.

"I came here for you, Vermillion," Monarch explains so calmly that Vermillion almost misses it. He doesn't, though, as his eyes snap towards the rearview mirror. He can't see Monarch's eyes because of the hero's sunglasses, but Vermillion can tell that Monarch is looking back at him. Like their voice, Monarch also has a very intense stare. "I volunteered because I cannot let you die, especially not when I haven't apologized."

"What the fuck are you talking about now? You don't have to make this depressing. I'm not gonna fucking die, alright? Not again. That shit hurts. And when you come back... people just look at you like your science. I'm not anyone's experiment," Vermillion snaps, and something hot and ugly twists in his stomach, conjuring up even nastier words to form a shield around him. "Also, hate to say it yet again, but you made this all about you. I don't need your damn apology. I don't want it, either. You have nothing to apologize for. It's not like you didn't say anything that wasn't true."

"It wasn't, Vermillion. None of what I said to you that night was true. It was unbecoming of me to say it, but more than that, I was a horrible friend to even think about it. You may not see it, but you have so much worth. You are more than an unmotivated wannabe from an abandoned district. You are not some parasite. You are not a curse," Monarch responds with a sharpness in their tone that implies they are lecturing Vermillion. He hasn't been lectured by Monarch in a long time, but he can still remember most of them. Monarch was a regal and proud figure, but they were also kind. Everyone in the association came to care about Vermillion one way or another, but it was Monarch alone that truly saw Vermillion's potential. To everyone else, Vermillion was a rowdy teenager who turned his chaotic nature into a weapon to fight for justice. It was Monarch that saw the makings of a hero in the soul of a traumatized boy. It was only fitting that Vermillion make Monarch turn their back on him first.

Vermillion tells them, "I'm not playing the fucking blame game with you. I've been a shitty friend for long enough. It was about damn time someone put me in my place. I hung out with heroes when I didn't have the intention of becoming one. I formed relationships with people when I didn't have the energy to maintain them. I fought for the people of Logstedshire up until the day I just abandoned them. I-"

"Stop it," Monarch commands, and Vermillion's mouth slams shut. He feels a twinge of jealousy at the fact that his tongue would fall silent at Monarch's behest instead of his own, but he can't hold onto that feeling as Monarch continues talking. "I do not want to be lied to. You did hang out with heroes, and I remember quite clearly that you were going to be Dream's sidekick until you could graduate into a hero team with Ender and Kamikaze."

Would you like to be my si-

When me and Ender become full-fledged heroes, we should te-

Sidekick, Dream had offered, with his bright smiles and scarred hands and tendency to run from his problems like Vermillion did. Team, Kamikaze had said when Vermillion the three of them- Vermillion, Kamikaze, and Ender- had been sitting on their favorite bench.

"How the fuck do you know about that?" Vermillion demands, but he doesn't get an answer.

"You formed a relationship with nearly every hero. You called Blade and Siren your brothers. You called Crowfather your dad. You call the rest of us a variety of names that were always filled with love. You cared about us, and we could tell. Who was the one that dragged Dream out of the gym when he had been working too hard? Who was the one that listened to all of Siren's songs, even singing them under his breath during stakeouts? Who was the one that went down to the lab every day to spend time with Warden? Who was the one that sat on that bench with Kamikaze and Ender? Who was the one that baked with Nemesis and helped Blaze out the cleaning? Who was the one that read stories in the library with Blade? The list goes on of things that you did for us, Vermillion," Monarch explains, and each sentence feels like a bullet slamming into Vermillion's lungs. He physically feels the blood start to rush into his organs, cutting off his breaths. Monarch doesn't finish, instead they have to go for the throat. "Most importantly, who was the one who stood up to me every time I stepped out of line?"

"Fuck you. None of that fucking matters anymore. That's all in the fucking past," Vermillion responds, but he starts to think about other things. He thinks about the times he sparred with Ankh. He thinks about the times that he laid out in the sun with Crowfather. He thinks about the times he listened to Captain's stories about the depths of the sea and the waves beyond the horizon. He thinks about the video games that he played with Combust. He thinks about the small garden he had started with Unfound. He thinks about so many different people that tears start building in his eyes. He already knew that he missed his family, but dammit, this awakens the pain he thought he had been suppressing pretty fine before now.

"I do not believe for a single second that you abandoned Logstedshire. Even when you stopped patrolling, no one gave up on the hope that the Red Angel would return. It was that hope that kept people going. It was that hope that inspired the people to do good by themself," Monarch proclaims. "And we can hardly call dying an unsuitable reason for retiring early."

"You have no idea what you're fucking talking about," Vermillion snaps.

"Then, tell me. We have a long drive ahead of us, and I know the radio won't come on any time soon. Kitsune and your friend have passed out. If you want me to understand, say it now or I will continue to hold onto my false impressions as if they were true," Monarch proposes the ultimatum, placing the ball in Vermillion's court. Vermillion bristles. He should leave it be. It doesn't matter to him what Monarch thinks about him. It shouldn't matter to him what everyone else thinks the truth is. But it does matter to him. It matters so much because he still cares. He pushes people and he runs, but he still cares at the end of the day. He still feels the aching loneliness bursting in his heart.

"I was a genetically engineered soldier. I was a child forcibly created by taking two people's DNA. I was merged with... something to make me more powerful. I grew up in the outpost we're currently going to until I was rescued. I lived in the Ravine for a while before I went to Logstedshire. I became a vigilante because I needed something to do, and I wanted to clean up the district I found myself in. I freed some people from the Pit, and I made myself some allies. Banshee found me. He found me, and he... he loved me. And the rest of you learned to. And then Clara found me. She didn't want me near the heroes for fear that her secret- my secret, too- would be discovered. I broke off almost all of my relationships. Then, my biological father gave me the greatest mercy he could think of: killing me to guarantee that Clara's plans don't come into fruition. Clara brought me back to life, reminding me of how important I was. I let everyone believe I was dead and laid low because I was scared of what she would do. I was so scared that I let all of this fester instead of just killing her when I had the chance," Vermillion confesses in a whisper. He almost breaks down. He's rushing through his words. He's trying to hit all the highlights. He's trying not to mention how miserable and lonely he was. He was trying not to mention how special and cared for the heroes made him feel. But, he supposes, his tone does all of that for him.

"Vermillion," Monarch whispers back. Vermillion lowers his face into his hands, letting his fingers slip under his mask to wipe away the tears. "I apologize about everyone I said that night."

"Fuck, I'm sorry about a lot of shit, too. I shouldn't have said any of the things I said, either," Vermillion whispers, hoping his voice doesn't sound as broken as he feels.

"Vermillion, I need you to-"

"Fuck," Mamacita says. She isn't whispering as she presses her face to the window. She turns away from the window with wide eyes. She opens her mouth, closes, and opens it once more to say, "I really have to... pee. Like, really badly. Can we pull over for a second? I swear I won't take too long."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Monarch tells her. They have a lot more control over their voice than Vermillion thought anyone could. Vermillion is jealous. He swallows thickly, trying to quietly get his voice in order in case he needs to start speaking. He can't let Mamacita see his weakness, and he doesn't want Kitsune- should he wake- to have a reason to make fun of Vermillion. If he does, Vermillion will have to pull out the 'furry' card, and Monarch will be disappointed in both of them.

Monarch starts to pull over to the side of the road. When the car stops, Mamacita hurriedly opens the door. She hesitates as soon as she places one leg out the car before she shifts back inside. She looks at Monarch and Vermillion sheepishly. "Uh, what about the monsters? I'm not exactly equipped to defend myself."

"I'll scout the area real quick. I need to stretch my legs, anyway," Vermillion offers. He opens the car door, crawling out of his side. He rounds the car to walk down the small slant that leads to even more flatlands. Because of the flatness, he walks a fair distance away from the car to ensure that someone from the car couldn't see whatever was going on out there too well. Kitsune is asleep, and Monarch and Vermillion would be looking away, but he wants to give Mamacita some peace of mind. She already has to deal with her lover being kidnapped and monsters roaming around. This is the least he could do.

"I'm sorry," Mamacita calls. Vermillion almost startles. He didn't know Mamacita had followed him out here. Though, he supposes, it would be easier this way. She would know exactly how far he had scouted and would be able to find a suitable location to pee by herself.

"No sweat. Everyone's gotta pee," Vermillion tells her as he leans down to inspect a thorny bush. He pokes it at it carefully to ensure that nothing is hiding inside of it. Most monsters are at least human-sized, but a few of them were as small as a human foot. All of them were deadly, though, and Vermillion didn't want Mamacita to die.

"No, I mean, I'm sorry about this," Mamacita says again, this time with a lot more emotion in her voice. Vermillion's eyebrows come together, a question on his lips. Before he can talk, he sees a flash of a neon light and something is filling his mouth. He can't taste anything, but he can clearly see that Mamacita is holding some flexible, neon green substance in her hands. She's placed it over his mouth, and the air around it becomes charged with static. Vermillion tries to breathe, but he can't feel anything getting into his lungs. He tries to call on his wind powers, but he doesn't get a response from them. He brings his hands up to use his other power, but his arms fall to his sides before he can touch Mamacita's skin. White spots expand over his vision. He feels himself hit the ground before he's unconscious .