Isaac scanned the crowd around him, his gaze jumping from face to face. None looked familiar. Cursing, he summoned the map again to double-check the address. And sure enough, it was correct. ET-7743 was right next to him. Yet his target was nowhere to be seen.

Don't tell me you got lost, he thought, already pulling up his communication menu. A new message window popped up in front of him, but before he could fill it, a familiar voice reached his ears.

"Isaac? That you, kid?"

At once, he turned right and smiled. "Daryl. And here I thought you got lost."

The older man grinned behind his scruffy beard. "I did! So many people here, I got dragged along with the flow. Only realized when the numbers on the houses didn't match up."

Isaac chuckled and stepped forward, pulling the man into a one-armed hug. "Good to see you after all this time."

Daryl patted him a few times on the back before separating. "Likewise, kid. Likewise. And sorry for the radio silence. Been busy as hell. Barely find time to see my own kid, let alone visit this place."

Isaac frowned, gesturing for him to follow. "That bad back home?"

"No," Daryl protested instantly. "You misunderstood. Everything's fine. Tiring but fine. Who knew managing so many people took so much effort? Certainly not me!"

Isaac let out a breath of relief. For a moment there, he had been worried that Sacramento had gone to hell after he left. Now that would have been quite disappointing. After all, it was one of the first thirteen Contamination Zones. He had higher expectations for it than, say, LA.

"You wanted to lead," he said at last. "You only have yourself to blame."

Daryl huffed. "You sound just like Mia. And it's not like the job's permanent. More and more people are heading out on their own or in smaller groups. Give it another week or two, and I will barely have anybody under my care."

"That's good, right?" Isaac asked, unsure.

"Yes and no," Daryl said. "Less work for me, sure, but some folks just aren't meant to fight alone. Can't stop them from leaving, though. I'm there to help, not order everyone around."

Isaac's frown returned. That didn't sound right at all. At least not based on what he had remembered from before his departure.

"What about Cooper, or hell, the Colonel?"

Daryl shrugged. "They're both operating out of Sacramento and a new Safe Zone they set up outside the city. I stayed in Galt with a good number of people who disliked how tightly they run things. There are some other groups like mine, but well… I don't really have any contact with them."

Ah… That makes more sense, Isaac mused. To be honest, he should have expected this kind of split to happen sooner or later. Then again, he was more surprised that the Colonel had managed to hold onto power after the battle with the Minotaur.

Guess that's military for you. He shook his head, returning his attention to the man beside him.

For a while, they just talked about the situation in Sacramento and Galt. As Daryl had said, things were quite fine. Most people were out fighting and growing stronger, with only a small portion holed up inside the Safe Zone and refusing to ever go out.

Daryl didn't have much information on the Colonel's or Cooper's people, but according to him, they were pushing hard east for some reason. They also had some fighters active on the Battleworld, but probably not as many as they should have, especially given the size of their faction.

Intriguing, but not something that held Isaac's interest for long. Even though he had worked with some of those people in the beginning, right now he couldn't bring himself to care much about them. Daryl and his family were fine. Only that mattered. Well, that and the fact that the other Hosts were still doing their part in the war.

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That was more than enough for him.

Afterward, the conversation shifted more toward Isaac's recent accomplishments. For the most part, he kept things short and quiet. The last thing he wanted was for the crowd around them to overhear and start chasing him because they recognized who he was. It had already happened once yesterday, not that long after he left Carmela's house.

He still shuddered at the memory.

Still, at least this shift in subject gave him the chance to mention his new idea to the older man. As usual lately, first he got called insane for even coming up with such a thing. Then Daryl fell silent, humming to himself.

"I could talk to Cooper," he finally offered. "See if they have any people interested in joining. I'm just worried the Colonel might get involved more than you'd like."

Isaac shrugged. "The others and I can handle him. Besides, we parted on what I hope were friendly terms. Hopefully that still counts for something."

"All right then. I will message Cooper once I get back," Daryl said, looking around them. "By the way… where exactly are we going? How about one of those restaurants I keep hearing about? I could eat."

A chuckle escaped Isaac. "Later. Right now, our destination is Training Field-AA6."

Daryl stumbled. "Training field? The hell, kid?! I ain't fighting you. Not after what I saw on that livestream. I surrender, ya hear me?"

"Relax," Isaac said. "You can stand on the side and watch. I just gotta keep my end of a deal real quick."

"Deal?"

And thus, Isaac dived into another explanation. One that involved the retelling of his meeting with Carmela. Once he finished, the other man had a wide grin on his face.

"Look at you, making allies and playing diplomat," Daryl teased, slinging an arm over Isaac's shoulders. "What happened to the kid who acted like he couldn't give a damn about anything?"

Isaac smiled. "I came alive."

Daryl chuckled, patted his back, and stepped away. "Good. It's a good look on you." He shook his head lightly. "Never thought someone from our shitty city would end up a global celebrity. And for killing hundreds of aliens, no less."

Just like that, the smile vanished from Isaac's face. "Don't even remind me," he grumbled.

The older man laughed again. "Not a fan of your new status?"

"You try being chased for two hours straight after someone recognizes you on the street, while more and more people keep joining in. I had to teleport to Oasis to escape."

Daryl winced. "Ouch. Condolences in that case, my friend."

Isaac nodded, and with that, they shifted the topic again, keeping the talk light. They still had quite some distance to walk after all.

Hopefully, Carmela won't mind me being a bit late…

The arena Carmela had chosen for their spar was nothing to scoff at. It had to be larger than a soccer field, which was saying quite a lot in itself. Then again, its size was nothing compared to the sheer number of people gathered just beyond the barrier of the Training Field. There had to be hundreds, no, thousands of Hosts here.

Obviously, they knew what was about to happen.

Isaac sighed and turned his gaze to Carmela. The two of them stood in the middle of the arena, separated only by a dozen or so feet.

"Your work?" he asked, gesturing at the crowd.

The corner of Carmela's lips tugged upward a bit. "No," she answered. "But it's fitting, don't you think?"

Isaac shrugged. "Rules?"

This time, the woman smiled. "No Legacies and Ultimates. And let's avoid any one-shot, one-kill abilities. I wouldn't want to lose my new coworker."

He chuckled. "Fair enough." Root of Blood formed in his hand. "Ready?"

Carmela raised her right arm and, in a flash, her own version of Root of War materialized in her grasp. Its form, however, was nothing like what he expected.

It was a musket, or at least it had the build of one. Unlike the roughness of his Root, hers was elegant and beautiful. It looked like something that belonged in an art museum rather than a battlefield.

Yet here it was. A weapon that seemed to be crafted from the finest silver and golden metals. Those two colors, opposites of one another, blended perfectly together, joined by a small gem here and there of the same shade. The most curious feature, though, was the thin, pale blade running along the underside of the rifle, from trigger to the barrel's end.

A gun and a sword in one, then.

Interesting, Isaac thought, raising his gaze back to the woman's face. There he was met with another surprise.

Carmela's normal hazel eyes vanished. Her right now burned like a golden star, while the left was like the moon itself, silver and bright. Even better, her small smile was gone, replaced by a light smirk that appeared almost… bloodthirsty?

"Ready," she announced, her voice filling the entire arena.

And so the spar began.

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