"Annnd done." Sol dusted off his hands after sliding his bag into one of the storage compartments built into the ship's interior. He turned toward the three duplicates settling around the central table with an appreciative grin. "Gotta hand it to you guys—this actually turned out pretty damn impressive."

Red rubbed his nose, practically glowing. "Hell yeah it does. We're just that damn awesome."

Angelo shot him a flat look. "Wasn't your idea."

"Nor your design," Blue added, adjusting his imaginary glasses.

Red stretched back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "But I helped, so quit nitpicking. Remember—there's no I in team." He tapped his temple like he'd just solved world hunger.

Neiva finished stowing her gear and dropped into a seat at the table. "Okay, so how exactly do you fly this thing?"

"REM!" Red announced like it was the greatest word ever invented. "What's with that face? REM's amazing! Best thing since sliced bread! Can't get enough of REM!"

"Stop. Saying. REM." Angelo's voice carried the weight of countless identical arguments.

"Why? I like saying REM. It's fun. REM, REM, REM, RE—"

"What the hell is REM?!" Neiva practically jumped out of her seat.

Blue exhaled like a professor dealing with a difficult classroom. "Remote Energy Manipulation. We essentially shift our perspective to the vessel's energy—"

"The Redmobile 3000, you mean," Red interrupted with a shit-eating grin.

Blue's eye twitched. "We synchronize with the ship." He jabbed his finger on the table with more force than needed. "The process grants us sensory perception from any point on its surface, allowing us to project propulsion energy at will."

Neiva's eyes lit up. "Oh wow! That's just like this game I played where your character interfaces with this vehicle and pilots it like it's their own body! It was this whole sci-fi thing—"

"Can we get a move on?" Angelo cut in. "Talk all you want on the way there."

Red kicked back in his chair. "What if Ruely-boy's not home?"

"Then we wasted thirty minutes." Angelo's tone made it clear he didn't want to discuss it.

Sol ran his fingers through his silver hair. "Let's hope he is. I'd prefer having that protection. Could mean the difference between walking away or being carried."

"Prepare for liftoff!" Red announced like some kind of mission control operator.

Angelo and Blue shared a look that spoke volumes about their patience levels, then closed their eyes in unison. The three shifted their awareness into the ship itself, each focusing on different sections. Twin beams of silver energy—threaded with veins of red, orange, and blue—erupted from the vessel's sides, lifting it smoothly off the ground. A moment later, a massive Trinergy beam ignited from the rear thrusters, and they shot forward.

The acceleration was intense—noticeably faster than their previous journey to Thunderclap Port.

"Wait." Neiva glanced around. "There aren't any windows on this thing."

Angelo's eyes remained closed. "Yeah. And?"

"What are Sol and I supposed to do while you three fly? I can't even see where we're going!" Her voice rose with indignation.

Sol pulled a deck of cards from his bag, fanning them out diplomatically. "I brought cards. We could play a few rounds?"

"Well there you go." Angelo muttered.

Neiva blew a strand of hair from her face in protest, but didn't argue further.

They flew in relative peace—though peace was generous considering Neiva's muttering. The journey took fifteen minutes instead of thirty, the combined energy propulsion cutting their travel time in half.

This time they landed directly in front of Ruel Shield's estate instead of hiding in the forest like before.

Ruel happened to be looking out a window when a strange craft descended from the sky right outside his gate. He burst through his front door. "What in the blazes?!"

His confusion only deepened when Angelo, Red, Blue, Neiva, and an unfamiliar face emerged from the vessel.

He rubbed his eyes. "Angelo?!"

"Hey." Angelo approached casually, hands buried in his jacket pockets.

"How's it hanging, old-timer?" Red snickered.

"Mr. Shields." Blue offered a slight bow. "It is a pleasure to renew our acquaintance."

Neiva rushed forward. "Hi Mr. Shields! You remember me, right? Neiva Wines?"

"I—yes, of course. Good to see you all." His gaze drifted to Sol. "And you've acquired another traveling companion, I see."

"Solomon Thron." Sol gave a casual two-fingered salute. "Call me Sol. Pleasure."

"Likewise..." Ruel looked thoroughly off-balance. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

A hint of amusement crossed Angelo's face. "Did you forget what you promised? Wasn't that long ago."

"The equipment—naturally, I didn't forget. I simply encountered logistical difficulties shipping everything to Thunderclap Port." Ruel spoke quickly, words tumbling over each other.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Red's mental voice cackled through their link. "Guy's about to piss himself."

Angelo crossed his arms. "Not an issue anymore. We're here now. Doesn't get more convenient."

Ruel opened and closed his mouth several times before words finally emerged. "Well... it's not quite that simple. My personal residence isn't a warehouse. I don't maintain significant inventory here..."

"But you've got something, don't you?" Red pressed knowingly.

"Perhaps one or two under-armor prototypes. Not sufficient for your entire group..." Ruel's voice grew weaker.

Sol sighed and glanced at Angelo. "Prototypes or not, they'll have to do. We don't have time to wait."

Angelo nodded. "You heard him. We'll take what you've got."

"Hold on—" Neiva's cheeks flushed slightly. "Do those under-armors come in women's sizes? Because, you know..."

"TITS!" Red shouted, somehow managing to make everyone feel like awkward teenagers despite most of them actually being teenagers.

Ruel scratched the back of his neck. "Ah, no—those aren't designed for women." Neiva's face fell. "But wait! You could try reshaping the chest area yourself. Should work fine as long as no active Auron is wearing it at the time."

"Okay..." Neiva's voice came out small.

"Why don't you all come inside while I fetch them? I can offer drinks and—" His phone cut him off mid-invitation. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and held up a finger. "One moment, please. I need to take this."

They exchanged glances as Ruel answered.

He kept the phone pressed close to his ear—definitely not on speaker. A woman's voice came through, audible but muffled. "Heya, the old man and the boss lady told me to contact you. I'm supposed to identify myself as Owl—pretty ridiculous, I know. You Fortress?"

"I already informed you," Ruel said smoothly, "the Lumecent factory is undergoing maintenance. This will delay numerous orders by at least a week."

"...What?" Owl's confusion bled through the phone.

"Excuse me." Ruel stepped away from the group, continuing his very business-like tone.

Red's eyes tracked Ruel's movements across the driveway. Then he turned to the others, something sharp in his expression. "Hey."

The unusual edge in his voice made everyone focus on him immediately.

"Something's wrong with him. He's lying."

Neiva tried to smooth things over. "It's really not a big deal. I'm sure I can work with whatever armor—"

"Not about that!" Red's dismissal was sharp. "Right now. On the phone. Guy's lying through his teeth. I can feel the pressure rolling off him."

Sol chuckled. "This guy runs a major company, right?"

"Yeah. So?" Angelo asked.

"Trust me—doesn't matter what kind of organization. They all put on a confident face while everything's burning behind the scenes." Sol waved a hand casually. "He's probably just making excuses for production delays."

Ruel's voice drifted back. "Look, can I call you back later?" A pause. "Very well. I'll contact you soon. Thank you." He ended the call and returned to the group. "Apologies. Dealing with frustrated suppliers and arms dealers comes with the territory."

"Still lying," Red muttered through their mental link.

Angelo almost dismissed it, but something nagged at him. "Why lie to us, though? To that supplier, sure. But why bullshit us? And about what?"

"Hell if I know. Just feels like lying," Red shot back internally.

"Uh... hello?"

"Perhaps you're misinterpreting the emotional signature?" Blue suggested with careful precision.

"You guys still with me?" Ruel asked Sol and Neiva, who both laughed nervously.

"Do I look like some kind of feelings expert?!" Red's mental voice crackled with frustration. "This just feels similar to when people lie—uncomfortable, off. I don't know how else to explain it, okay?"

"But you're literally our empath—" Angelo started to argue.

Neiva grabbed his shoulder and shook hard. "EARTH TO ANGELO!"

All three duplicates snapped back to reality.

"What?" Angelo blinked. "Oh. Right." He looked away, embarrassment mixing with irritation. "Sorry. Got distracted."

Ruel stared at them, clearly confused by the strange moment. "Right... this way, please. Come in." He gestured toward his house.

Ruel brought out snacks and drinks while they settled around a fancy table in the living room. "Make yourselves comfortable. I'll go retrieve those prototypes." He disappeared down a hallway.

Silence settled over the group.

Angelo looked around the room slowly, then down at the floor beneath his feet. A bitter sound escaped him—not quite a laugh. "Hard to believe this used to be where my parents and I lived. They were murdered right under where we're sitting." He shook his head.

Neiva and Sol exchanged sad glances before looking at him sympathetically.

"This might also be where we got split," Red said, his usual chaos replaced by something heavier.

"Wait, seriously?" Sol leaned forward. "You actually know how this happened to you?"

"Easy there, pretty boy." Red's grin carried no amusement this time. "It's just a theory. What do you nerds call it—a possibility?"

Blue adjusted his posture in that particular way he did. "As you may recall, this residence once contained a fully equipped basement laboratory. Given that our parents were likely scientists, the probability of this laboratory being the origin point of our division is... considerable."

"You think your own parents did this to you?" Neiva's voice went quiet.

Angelo stared out the window at their ship. "Who knows. Maybe it was whoever killed them. Then again, I don't know shit about my parents. Maybe they were the kind of sick fucks who'd experiment on their own kid." His eyes grew distant, voice dropping. "Though I want to believe they wouldn't..."

"Angelo..." Neiva said softly while Sol watched him with understanding.

Angelo suddenly jerked like something had crawled under his clothes. "What the hell?!" Red's crimson marbles escaped from his jacket pocket. He whipped around to face Red, arm extended as the marbles responded to his control. "What are you doing?"

"Got tired of your pity party. Figured we could use our time here better." Red smirked. The marbles shot upward into the air vents and vanished.

Sol stood abruptly, his casual demeanor gone. "Dude. I know exactly what you're doing. That's called spying. Not cool."

Red shrugged. "Guy's lying to us about something. I just want to know what."

Before anyone could argue, Ruel returned carrying two dusty boxes. "Here we are. Sorry about the dust."

"It's... fine." Angelo tried to shake off the conversation. "Thanks."

Ruel set the boxes on an empty spot on the table, dusting his palms before putting his hands on his hips. "So, if you don't mind me asking—you mentioned not having time to wait. Off to another location already?"

"Yeah. Why?" Angelo's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, no particular reason. It's just—well, I feel terrible about all this. All I can offer right now are prototypes." Ruel shifted his weight. "I'd like to help properly. Once I have better supplies, I could ship them to you. If you know where you're headed, maybe I can arrange delivery in advance."

"Makes sense." Angelo nodded. "It's called... Sol—"

"Yeah, Sol hasn't decided where we're going yet! Still figuring it out!" Red cut in. Internally, his voice turned urgent. "He's STILL lying! Something's really fucking wrong here."

Angelo looked at Red for a long moment, then turned back to Ruel. His voice dropped to that cold, dangerous tone. "What he said."

Sweat beaded on Ruel's forehead, but his expression stayed neutral. "I see. In that case, if you ever need more equipment, just contact me with your location. I'll do whatever I can. I promise."

Angelo stood. The others followed. "Noted. Thanks." He turned toward the door without looking at Ruel. "Let's go."

They filed past Ruel one by one. Blue went last, offering a dignified bow before following the others out.

They settled back into the ship while Ruel stood outside, watching it lift off. The moment it disappeared into the sky, he released a shaky breath.

He went back inside, grabbed his wallet, keys, and phone, then left his house. His walk looked casual—just a stroll through the neighborhood. He kept walking until he was far from any houses, far from anyone who might overhear.

Then he made a call.

"Owl? This is Fortress." His voice was calm, measured.

"About damn time!" The woman on the other end sounded annoyed. "And what the hell was that earlier?"

"My apologies. Our target arrived for an unexpected visit. I couldn't speak freely."

"What are the chances," Owl mused. "Did you at least get anything useful from them?"

Ruel recalled Angelo's response, playing it back in his mind. "I believe so. They're most likely headed somewhere that starts with 'Sol'.'"

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