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The time for espionage had passed. At this point, Abel’s cover was well and truly destroyed, and if by some miracle it had not been there was really not much point in continuing to keep it up.

As a result, Abel did not hesitate for a moment to pilfer two of the dead soldier’s rifles as they exited the laboratory. He passed one to Lashar, as Asha had not returned his laser rifle back to him.

“Primitive,” Lashar examined the assault rifle. It was an AK of some kind, probably an AK-74 Abel figured, but the exact variant was lost on him. Lashar quickly figured out how the magazine was inserted and released, along with the charging handle. “But looks reliable and sturdy. It’ll do just fine.”

Brolath and Lashar took point, wrapping their stealth cloaks around their bodies and crept down the hallways while Abel and Asha kept a reasonable distance before getting the all-clear.

It still hurt Abel’s brain seeing Brolath and Lashar working together, let alone them both doing it in a way to protect him and Asha. As much as Abel hated to admit it, he was the only one in the group without real fighting experience and as for Asha…

Abel could not help but catch a glance at the emerald Lacertan’s powerfully muscled, naked body. He stood with as much confidence and dignity as he had been in his combat armor. No shame or torment would take away from his nature as a stoic warrior.

“Thank you,” Asha suddenly whispered.

Abel blinked, “For?”

“Rescuing me.”

Blushing, Abel felt like slapping himself. The answer seemed so obvious.

“Red does not make good camouflage,” Asha reached over and brushed his cold hand against Abel’s burning hot face. “But it’s appealing.”

Abel’s heart raced and his passion urged him to tongue-kiss the Lacertan, though his brain reigned him in. His erogenous venom was very enticing, but now was not the time to submit to it.

Two steady pops rang down the hallway, interrupting Abel’s trance. The noise was very familiar, it was iconic to the AK platform, but Abel could not tell to whom it belonged to.

Not until Lashar hissed out, “Clear!” at least.

Rounding the corner, they passed through the cafeteria. A body laid behind one of the overturned tables. Swallowing, Abel leaned down and picked up a pair of magazines from the soldier’s vest and stuck them in his pocket.

In the corner of Abel’s vision, he saw a glimmer. The barrel of a gun poking out of a door. Abel aimed and fired through the door and the gun fell to the ground, a limp hand still holding onto the under-barrel.

“Good shot,” Asha said, followed by mutters of agreement from Brolath and Lashar.

It was a clean kill, all fair in the heat of battle.

But part of Abel’s mind saw Hada’s lifeless face behind that door.

“Changing mags,” Abel said as he popped out the current magazine in favor of a full one.

That’s what soldiers do, right?

Abel followed his invisible guides out of the cafeteria and down the hallway leading to the silo. Abel warned them that they would be sitting ducks in there and stayed back while one of the cloaked figures, Lashar based on the outline, crept past the slightly open door.

The other cloaked figure stepped towards Abel and Asha, taking off his hood and revealing the leonine face of Brolath. His golden eyes were surrounded by red sclera, inflamed from the sand Meyer threw.

“What a crazy bitch,” Abel muttered. “Who the fuck keeps sand in their pocket?”

Brolath snorted, “At least your friend had red eyes already.”

A sudden realization flashed through Abel’s head.

“I was contacted by Atay.”

Brolath did not react to this news with any obvious expression.

“The Claw wanted me to give them a sample of the prototype, I refused. They might cause problems for us.”

Abel couldn’t have given a damn or not if they went after Brolath, but one way or another they were both linked on this mission and if they came down on Brolath, they’d come down on Abel too.

“The Guard-General...Grand Regent...” Brolath swallowed, “...asked me to do the same thing.”

Crossing his arms, Abel frowned, “So that was your mission all along?”

“No. The Emperor ordered me to investigate and destroy it. Things changed after the Emperor was killed,” the outline of Brolath’s tail lashed under the cloak. “I do not trust either him or the Claw with it.”

“I wouldn’t trust the Empire with it at all, any Empire for that matter.”

Brolath frowned, “I might trust the Empire with it but not the people running the Empire.”

It was not radical enough of a statement for Abel to see eye to eye with Brolath. The entire concept of the Empire was rotten, not merely bad people running it in lieu of good people. When good people ran the Regulian Empire, slavery and murder were enacted with great efficiency and rebellion were put down without much resistance. One could not be morally good and run the Empire, only efficient at dominating those beneath you.

But what matters right now is we both agree on one thing.

There was a knock on the wall and the blurry figure of Lashar peeked in.

“It’s clear,” he hissed.

The three entered into the silo, which was deathly silent save for the tap of their boots on the metal stairway leading upward.

There were three bodies on the spiraling staircase lining the silo. Two were laying side-by-side with their throats clawed open and Abel could not help but notice the silent drops of red blood dripping onto the stairs from seemingly nowhere as Lashar’s mostly invisible form continued swiftly leading them.

The third body’s face was purple with foam still bubbling around his lips. Lashar’s kiss of death left its mark.

Lashar flung a door open and Abel followed behind, entering the very first hallway he had seen when the truck he was on had dropped him off. The tunnel entrance was only a short walk away and thin black smoke bellowed out of it towards the distant sunlight. Escape was almost there.

Entering into the tunnel and suppressing a cough, Abel saw Lashar’s blurred body dash off down into the tunnel towards the light. Him and the others slowly trailed forward, not daring to make so much as a noise or speak, unsure of what might lay ahead. If this had been like any other evacuation, the enemy might be waiting outside at a muster station, or waiting for them to emerge and be shot.

But there was a small chance that due to the vented smoke they might decide to flee entirely, leaving their path free.

It didn’t take Lashar long to re-appear and flip the hood off of his cloak, revealing his black-scaled face. Even though Abel had trouble reading the Lacertans clearly, he could tell the situation did not look good before he spoke.

“There’s a whole army waiting for us,” Lashar whispered. “They’re watching the exit, they’re ready.”

“How many?” Asha hissed back.

“Too many,” Lashar shook his head. “No point to counting.”

“Is their leader there?”

“There’s a creepy wheelchair guy, that him?”

Asha nodded and shouldered the laser rifle, “Time to die.”

“Time to die,” Lashar nodded back.

“No.”

The two Lacertans looked at Abel, whose voice stood firm with resolution despite his hushed voice. There was no anxiety in Abel’s chest, no heartache; he spoke with desire to protect his beloved but knew they although they were not incapable of emotion, that he had to be firm and logical with them.

“There is much for you two to still do,” Abel said. “I won’t let you throw your lives away.”

Lashar stepped forward and hugged Abel with his free arm, “We knew this would happen sooner or later. We’re doing this to try and give you a chance, Abel.”

“And leave me distraught without you!?” Abel pushed Lashar away, struggling to keep his emotions and voice quiet. “To live with the guilt that you died for me?”

“That’s an illogical emotion,” Asha said but also reached forward and gently rubbed Abel’s shoulder. “Our goal was to destroy the prototype and help you, we are not done with the second-”

“If you want to help me, you’ll find a way to get out of here and escape,” Abel whispered, tears welling in his eyes. “Your mission is to live.”

Asha blinked, “You’re not our commanding of-”

“You will hurt me if you die here,” Abel said. “That’s not protecting me.”

Lashar rubbed his chin, “Got a point there.”

“Agent,” Asha sighed, “we have no means of escape.”

“I mean,” Lashar tugged at the sleeve of his cloak, “I do but-”

“Here,” Brolath suddenly interjected and swept off his cloak, exposing his yellow jacket. The Regulian passed the cloak to Asha, “I’m getting tired of looking at your naked body.”

Abel blinked at Brolath and the Lacertans were frozen as well.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Brolath pushed the cloak at Asha again, “if I’m caught here with Lacertans, I’m gonna get in trouble. Go on, get out of here.”

“I don’t understand,” Asha looked down at the cloak.

“I’m an officer of the law and I’m letting you two off with a warning.”

Slowly, Asha reached for the cloak and wrapped it around his naked body, flicking it out of existence.

“Abel, I get what you’re doing,” Lashar hugged the human again, nuzzling his cheek. “But if you die, we’re going to hurt. You have a better chance of living if we draw your fire and-”

“I’ll talk with Glass. He’s my Uncle, he’ll...” Abel paused, not fully believing his words, “...he’ll have to listen to me.”

“Your Uncle?” all eyes were suddenly on Abel, though Lashar did not break away from his embrace.

“Too long of a story,” Abel squeezed Lashar before the Lacertan broke away. “Just believe me on this one, I can talk with him.”

Asha suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Abel in a powerful bear-hug, lifting him up from the ground and nuzzling him with the tip of his snout.

“Be safe, Abel,” Asha whispered. “We have much love to share.”

Practically dropping Abel on the around, Asha turned around, rubbing his stiff tail against Abel’s leg. The two Lacertans stared at Abel one last time before putting on their hoods and vanishing from the world.

“We’ll wait for you Abel,” Lashar whispered a final time and then all was silent.

Abel and Brolath stood there quietly for some time. Abel examined his rifle multiple times, checking the magazine and the barrel even though it was quite clearly in good working order. Brolath on the other hand did nothing at all.

“I think that’s been enough time now,” Brolath whispered.

Abel nodded.

“Your Uncle...” Brolath crossed his arms, “...do you really think you can talk us out of this?”

“No,” Abel said honestly, “I think this is it.”

“At least...” Brolath retrieved his pistol and turned it on, activating it with a beep, “...we’ll have done some good in the world. Destroyed the prototype, completed my duty...”

“Helped them escape.”

“Yes...” Brolath curled his lip and nodded, “...they were good allies.”

Brolath silently padded towards the light. Abel hesitated for a moment and gripped his rifle.

Part of his brain screamed out to shoot Brolath in the back, that if he killed him now he might be able to get out of this, to make Glass think he was being forced to cooperate with the Regulian and only just now was able to free himself.

What had Brolath truly done for him anyways? Whatever chance he had gone through now, the Regulian had still caused all of this to happen. He had forced Abel to be a patsy for the Empire under threat to his family’s life.

Who had truly witnessed Abel cooperating willingly and alive to tell the tale?

No, Abel pushed the thought aside. Meyer was alive and there was no telling what camera recorded them.

Beyond that, Abel’s stomach churned at the thought of shooting Brolath in the back. He might have deserved it, Abel figured he had every right to do so after what he put himself through but…

Sighing, Abel finally began to move, jogging to catch up with Brolath.

I just want to be back home.

Father, Yin...I’m sorry.

“Abel, what in the hell have you done!?”

Emerging into the open field, Abel was briefly blinded by the morning sun. Peppered within the demanding voice were a chorus of guns cocking.

As Abel’s vision adjusted, he saw them surrounded by soldiers in a semi-circle scatterd around the farm nestled in the hills. He placed himself between Brolath and the rifles pointed at them. The human was a good foot and a half smaller than Brolath, but he had to do something to prevent them from firing.

“I’ve done what you should have done ages ago, Uncle,” Abel spread his arms, holding his rifle helplessly in his right.

Brolath raised his pistol behind Abel and the crowd of humans reacted immediately. Some flinched, one or two backed up a step; the sight of Regulian weaponry held a deep-rooted scar in many of their brains. The only ones who did not react were Glass, a twisted figure resting in his own mobile throne before them; and Yuri holding a sub-machine gun in one hand while his prosthetic arm hung helplessly against his side.

“You were working with them!?” Glass snarled, leaning forward in his chair and spitting onto the ground. “You’re a traitor to your species, your father...your father would be ashamed of you!”

“You created a monster, Uncle,” Abel adjusted his body to cover Brolath, noticing Yuri moving the barrel of his gun around in contrast to the other soldiers who weren’t so certain what to do. “I think my father would be ashamed of what you did.”

“What would you know!? What would-”

“What would you know? When was the last time you talked with him?” Abel spread his arms and puffed his chest. “Did you even tell him about the death of his wife?”

Glass opened his mouth, exposing his jagged teeth, and paused.

“Does he even know you’re alive?”

“It was necessary,” Glass shook his head. “To keep this project secret.”

“A project to fill the atmosphere with a genocidal nano-weapon.”

“It is the only way, Abel, the only way.”

“It’s gone now, we destroyed it.”

Abel expected anger from his Uncle, intense rage as befitting all the hatred he had accumulated from all the years after the invasion, after all the things he went through.

Instead, Glass’ eyes went to the ground and a tear rolled down his cheek.

“I’m sorry, Abel.”

The soldiers raised their rifles but did not fire.

“Killing me won’t change things,” said Abel, who motioned to Brolath behind him. “The Regulian Guard has been notified, it’s over.”

“The Guard!?” Glass’ voice quivered. “You’d sell humanity out to them?”

“No,” Abel narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not about to let you free humanity this way. I became a rebel to fight with the other aliens oppressed under the Regulians, not kill them all.”

“They’re not compatible, Abel. They’re all a bunch of rapists and savages.”

“That’s what the Regulians want us to think, to pit us against each other. Right now the Vulpeculans are rebelling against them and doing a better job than us with less resources. You would dismiss them just because of their species.”

“They can have their desert, but they can’t have Earth. Earth is for humans only, and proud humans at that.”

“Not race traitors, then?” Abel asked.

“They are Quislings, sleeper agents...”

“Then you’d better shoot me.”

Abel let his rifle fall to the grass with a thump.

“I reject your vision of a single-race planet,” Abel announced. “I envision an Earth for all species who face oppression under authoritarians across the universe. An Earth where no one is a slave and no one is a master. I’m friends with aliens, I’ve even made love to them. If that makes me a race traitor, then I’ll proudly call myself that. Go ahead, shoot your brother’s son.”

Shaking with pain, Glass raised his hand and wiped away a tear from his cheek before cupping his palm across his face. Glass said nothing and the rifles remained trained on Abel, who held his breath waiting for the last moments of his life.

This would be a good way to die, Abel figured. Maybe his words would have an effect on at least one of the rebels here even if Glass was unbreakable. Regardless, Abel made his stand and stood proudly before his Uncle, fearless and with resolve.

Slowly, Glass raised his head from his palm and his lips quivered as they parted.

“Oro...” Glass whispered.

Abel blinked, “What?”

“Cerro de Oro, your father lives there, in Argentina.”

“Glass,” Yuri suddenly asked, lowering his gun and kneeling down to Glass’ level, “what are you doing?”

Glass’ mouth hung open silently, lips shaking as he attempted to justify himself but the words would not come out.

“I’ll do it,” Yuri said.

Yuri stood up straight and began to raise his sub-machine gun. Abel kept his eyes open, watching as time slowed down and his final fate was to be fired down a barrel of a gun. He wanted to face this head on without fear.

“No, stop!” Glass cried out but was unable to interfere.

A shadow crawled across the sun just as Yuri aimed his gun at Abel. The whirr of a liftcopter’s engine suddenly shuddered through the air.

Abel saw the flash of Yuri’s muzzle and right after that, a smoke trail shooting through the air from the hills towards them.