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When Felix came to, he was alone under the rubble. He stood up, using his shield to push away the concrete and pieces of the Tartarus that nearly served as his coffin. Wearily, he called out for his partner.
“Locus…?”
Many thoughts cycled through his head when there was no answer, but Felix was no pessimist. Not once did the word “dead” come to mind. What he heard was “hurt,” and that scared him even more.
They had lost. They had lost and Felix knew it. Part of him didn’t want to stop. It didn’t want to lay down the fight, it wanted to keep going, even if it drove him to his death. But the other part of him, the quieter part, wanted to accept the loss. Not because it knew when it was beat, because much like the other part, it was certainly not happy about losing. No, this part wanted to live. It said that he should get his partner and get out, for trying any more would hurt them both too far beyond repair.
The second part won.
“Locus!”
After searching through the rubble in his immediate area, he truly began to worry. If Locus wasn’t with him at impact, they had no defense beyond their armor.
Frantically, Felix ran around from pile to pile, trying to find his partner. His gloves were ripping from the rocks and sharp metal, and his hands stained the concrete red. Eventually, he found something. Something green.
Locus…
Felix was a broken man, that’s no secret. But now he could say for sure that he was completely shattered. He grabbed the rocks pinning Locus’ body to the earth, but he was unable to lift them. He was used to death, sure, he killed people for a living. He’d long since come to terms with the fact that the two of them would most likely die because of their line of work, but in every scenario, every possible way he thought they could’ve gone out, they would have gone out together.
This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t accept the fact that he was alive while Locus was dead. Why couldn’t it have gone like he planned?
The first part of his mind started to fight.
He suddenly didn’t feel right wearing his armor. He couldn’t stand to wear it, his in perfect condition, while its counterpart sat bent, crushed, and broken. In a rage, he ripped his helmet off, throwing it into the pit with the rest of the Tartarus. He threw off his gloves and his gauntlets, throwing them on the ground and stomping on them with his boots, which he kicked off later as well. He then kicked the larger stone covering Locus, immediately regretting that decision as a few of his toes possibly broke.
Wearily, Felix fell to the ground, head in his hands. He looked back at Locus’ body before moving to sit next to them. Their helmet had been covered in blood, green nearly covered up by the red. Felix gently removed it, cupping Locus’ face in his bare hands. He didn’t notice the salty tears dripping onto his darker skinned partner’s face.
“This is not over,” Felix whispered, unsure who he was speaking to, perhaps Locus, perhaps just to himself, “wait for me on the other side.”
He planted a chaste kiss on Locus’ cold forehead, one of the most tender displays he’d shown in a long time.
Then, the first part took over.
Tucker and the rest of the reds and blues had gathered at the top of the communication tower when they saw Felix’s ship, smoking and quickly falling. Floors below, Felix stumbled out of the ship, fixing his armor. He’d recovered the strewn about pieces before leaving for the tower. However, he still lacked his helmet, which still sat at the bottom of the ravine.
As Felix made his way to the stairs, a red glow appeared beside him.
“Why have you come here?” Santa asked him.
“I’m going to kill the reds and blues.” His response was concise, and he laughed inwardly at how much he sounded like Locus.
“Why?”
Felix was silent.
“Will this secure your victory over their forces?”
“No.”
“Then why are you trying?”
Again, Felix was silent.
“Your partner is not with you.”
At this point, Felix had begun to walk away.
“This is not for victory, is it? No, this is for revenge.”
But Felix was gone.
“Tucker!” he shouted, his voice echoing throughout the area despite the lack of a helmet and speaker, “where are you?!”
“I thought you said they were dead!” Tucker quietly shouted at Carolina and Wash, who, having taken care of the mantis, came to investigate the mercenary’s sudden appearance.
“I guess we thought wrong.” Wash said.
Suddenly Felix was there, standing right behind them, as if appearing from the shadows.
“Found you.”
At the sound of Felix’s voice, Tucker spun around, drawing his sword. Felix parried and kicked him to the floor. Wash rushed at him, knife in hand, but was knocked back against a pillar. Tucker stood up, and he and Carolina attacked Felix from both sides, who slashed across Tucker’s abdomen, kicking Carolina at the same time.
Finally, Felix was knocked down, failing to deflect a blow from Tucker, and was sent tumbling to the edge of the tower. He rose to his knees as the rest of the reds and blues, who had rushed to the others’ side, surrounded him
“How desperate are you?” Epsilon appeared on Carolina’s shoulder, addressing the mercenary, “You knew you couldn’t win. So why would you run out on this suicide mission?” He thought back to when he and Carolina found the director, a broken, fearful man. Then he realized that Felix hadn’t been wearing his helmet since he arrived.
Wash voiced his suspicions for him, and asked the question that had been running through his mind, “Where’s your partner? Isn’t this usually the part when they come to pull you out of the fire?” he spat.
Felix chuckled, dark and empty, “Wouldn’t you like to know…”
The reds shared a concerned look, adjusting their guns for better aim.
“Don’t you remember?” Felix lifted his head to glare at Wash. He shifted; it felt as if Felix was looking right through his helmet, “You dropped a ship on them. You’ve killed all my men, destroyed my ship, and now… and now you’ve gone and taken away the last thing I had left!”
His words grew in intensity as his voice grew in anger, and he stood, now staring down both the Freelancers.
“Out of everything in the godforsaken world, they were the only thing I had! We were the perfect team after all, who would need anyone else?”
“You lied to them, you manipulated them!” Tucker interrupted.
“Who told you that? Was it your stupid AI? Locus was broken with no way to be fixed. To even try would just hurt them farther. I didn’t manipulate them, I just gave them what they wanted.”
Everyone was silent. Felix continued.
“Then Wash here came along. You saw what was happening to them. They were falling apart. Trying to fix themselves just destroyed them even more. First you destroy them, and you know what? Now you’ve destroyed me.”
The silence continued, stretching vast and empty, miles above the ground.
“So, you think I’m a monster? An animal? Fine then. You want to kill me?”
Wash finally took pity, lowering his gun, thinking that letting Felix live would be better punishment then a simple death. Let him live with his grief.
"Felix… we’re not going to kill you.”
“Too late,” Felix moves forward, forcing Wash’s gun to his temple, “You’ve already done it.”