Chapter Text
Follow was so prepared to come face-to-face with FouBreak – or worse, Houhou – he almost couldn't comprehend the cyborg standing before him, meeting his gaze with a sharp, single, vibrant blue eye. The sight was unreal, surely a mirage built of exhaustion and desperation.
But the man ahead of Follow was no illusion.
Astra was right there. In abysmal shape, but alive.
“Why-why on earth did-d-d you bring t̵h̶o̸s̴e̸ t̷̨͓͑̉̆̌w̸̖͎͈̝̾̋o̷̜͈̓͊̓ͅ?” While fixated on Astra's confirmed survival, and confirmed torture, Follow's two nerve-wracked companions entirely slipped his mind. Reminiscing had to wait until Astra was in Vespasien, on route to either the mechanic shop or Follow's home.
“It doesn't matter. We need to find a way out. Tromp's behind us, and-”
“And we're here.” From the way Astra's eye narrowed at FouBreak's voice echoing down the hall, Follow knew exactly who was responsible for the state the cyborg was in. He thought blisters would break through his skin from how intensely his blood boiled. “Tromp, open the door. Houhou's going to need all the space we can give him.”
The door Follow assumed Monk properly broke swung open, the shrill sound reverberating in his rib cage. He twisted around. Tromp stood in the dead center, a sickeningly cocky grin across his face.
“Let yourselves in, traitors.”
“R-run.”
Follow's first instinct was to go for the one who hurt Astra. His electro-needler was drawn. FouBreak stood only meters away. In his imagination, he would quickly incapacitate their second biggest threat, book it to the doorway with Astra, and be halfway to Vespasien before Houhou caught a whiff of them. But the gap between imagination and reality was massive, especially so clouded by the state Astra was in. The cyborg was the rebellion's leader for a reason, far more capable of thinking under pressure than anyone else.
Follow swallowed his tears and nodded. The race to the warehouse melted into a blur of footsteps, barked orders, and metal walls.
A deafening rumble broke through all else. Rumbling became the screech of heavy metal against metal.
Houhou closed in, violently shaking the ground beneath Follow and knocking him to the floor.
“F-FOL-L-LLOW!” Monk yelped. Follow felt the pinch of Monk's claws against his shoulder before he was dragged across the warehouse. Now on his back, Monk slightly ahead and Atlanta to the side and behind, Follow could see the fully transformed Enforcer.
What a cruel joke, that the over 6-meters-tall mass of shrieking metal and fabric was designed to resemble the reaper. A metal mask had descended to obscure whatever was left of Houhou's face and neck. A hood of stained metal and dark green canvas shrouded the mask. Rather than another clawed hand matching his left, the Enforcer's elongated right arm now ended in the gargantuan blade of a scythe.
Like a parasite, Tromp clambered to perch upon the Enforcer's shoulder, already taking aim while his fellow traitor stood towering and steady.
Follow's heart fluttered when his gaze dropped to Astra. Even so beaten down, nearly in pieces, he remained firmly between the traitors and his fellow rebels. Streaks of wetness cascaded down Follow's cheeks.
There's the man I love. You brave fool.
Then, Follow noticed the traitor directly ahead of Astra. The very one responsible for all the pain his partner was surely in.
Follow gritted his teeth, standing on wobbling legs. His electro-needler crackled to life beside him. How many times had Astra saved him from almost this exact predicament? How much more would the debt increase before Follow could return the favor?
No more. I'm bringing you home, starry eyes.
Though almost too faint to hear, Follow noticed a puff of air ahead of him. Astra wasn't the only one with means of defending the two organic clones.
“AGH- MERDE!” Tromp squealed the moment Monk's claws grasped the barrel of his rifle. Seconds later, the extended arm reeled Monk up to meet Tromp's furious face.
“Now, now, mon a-a-ami! Don't-t be a wal-wal-wal-wallflower! C-c-come join the-”
Monk’s words were cut short by Houhou’s twisting, attempting to shake off the annoyance still clinging to the sniper. Monk himself narrowly avoided being severed by Houhou’s blade with a leap.
A leap that gave him the leverage needed to pull Tromp to the ground with him.
Unfortunately, electricity illuminated Monk's wrist. His fingers snapped open before he and Tromp reached the floor, flinging Tromp meters away and causing Monk to lose balance. Metal echoed through the warehouse from Monk eating dirt.
“F-Follow! Move!”
A breath caught in Follow's throat. He stumbled back, warmth brushing past from FouBreak's blaster shot, a much higher priority for Follow than Monk and Tromp’s bickering.
“Ah!” FouBreak yelped upon Astra charging ahead, putting himself between the soldier and Follow.
“K-k-keep mo-moving,” Astra ordered, voice growing more distorted with exertion. “Get to y̶o̵u̶r̶ s̵͙̚h̸̼̅u̵͓̕t̵͖̃t̶̩̑l̸̩̅ȩ̸̒. I-I-I'll hold him o-o-off.”
“No.” Follow paused, grip tightening around his electro-needler. Atlanta's footsteps echoed behind him. “Not again! I have to at least try, after all you've done for me! Atlanta, go to the shuttle!” Follow barked. “I'll deal with FouBreak! Let Astra handle Houhou!”
“Wait, Follow! BEHIND YOU!” Atlanta yelled.
The pain struck Follow before he could turn around, stinging across the side of his exposed midriff. Luckily, the shot was little more than a graze, confirmed once Follow looked down to see the shallow, ruby scratch.
Follow wasn't sure how he hadn't spontaneously combusted from rage once he saw who took aim at him and Astra.
Sonar stood between Atlanta and the scaffolding leading up to Vespasien, handblaster raised and remaining eye narrowed.
“Don't you dare,” Sonar growled through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare act like you deserve a happy ending after what that scrapheap put me and Souffle through! You know he'd throw you under the bus just as easily as he did to us! I'm going to prove it, you spoiled little-!”
An orb of light caught Sonar’s eye, cutting his rant short. He ducked before the pulse could hit him, instead burning a hole into the concrete wall behind.
“Mais qui-!?”
Atlanta watched Sonar with wide, shaking eyes, his pulse-gun raised.
“I-I'll stay too, Follow,” he muttered. “J-just focus on FouBreak. I can… I have to try, too.” Follow wished he could've expressed the pride blooming within in words, wished he could hug his timid teammate for stepping up under pressure. He had to settle for a curt nod before turning his attention back to Astra and FouBreak.
Movement drew Follow’s gaze first. Astra rolled to the left, dodging a blind swing from Houhou and spilling his own coolant across the floor in the process. Then, Astra’s eye, glancing to Follow’s right. FouBreak’s attention had been drawn by Monk and Tromp’s scuffle as well. Try as he might, Monk was too nimble for any of FouBreak’s blaster shots to connect. From the way his clenched hand shook around the weapon’s handle, Follow suspected frustration was impacting his aim.
He'd take all the advantages he could get. Especially after FouBreak noticed he was unaccompanied, b-lining towards him with thunderous footsteps.
“Just as I expected,” FouBreak snarled. Follow’s eyes narrowed. “The moment your beloved leader has bigger fish to fry, he leaves you vulnerable.”
“Is that what you think?” FouBreak stilled at Follow’s words. Rage contorted his face, leaving him even more unrecognizable than the burn scars did.
“That’s the question; isn’t it, Dix-sept? Do you have it in you to be as merciless as your boytoy? Will you accept blood on your hands as easily as he did?”
“You think you have any right to call me that?” Follow spat. Their clone names were an oath, a sigil containing fond memories held close to each duplicated heart.
Not something with any right to spill from a backstabbing torturer’s mouth.
“Aw, what?” FouBreak mocked. “Are you upset you’re not creative enough to come up with your own, special little name like Makula did? Or is Follow more fitting, since all you do is follow someone else’s dogma!?”
“You know, I have my own questions about you, Deux.” Follow’s fingers twitched around his electro-needler’s handle. “I have to wonder why you’re so fixated on the casualties of Astra’s cause, when you seem quite comfortable with torturing anyone who questions those you follow.”
“Vas t’emmerder!” FouBreak snapped. He charged at Follow, blaster seemingly forgotten. An armored elbow entered Follow's peripherals fractions of a second before he dodged. The lunge left FouBreak close, vulnerable. A shrill, electric whirl pierced the air along with FouBreak's scream as Follow jammed the electro-needler into FouBreak's stomach.
So focused on landing a blow of his own, Follow missed the scrape of FouBreak's boots against concrete. He only realized his error when a burning kick to the back of his knees sent him tumbling to the ground. Follow righted himself quickly, rolling back onto his feet.
“What is that?” FouBreak grunted, brushing aside hair loosening from its tie. “You really think you can fight me with power tools!? Don’t make me laugh!”
“Watch me,” Follow hissed. With a flick of the switch on the needler's handle, crackling electricity swapped with neon, nail-like ammo. Normally, the two modes were used for restoring old metal structures: one for removing rust, the other for replacing crumbling bolts and nails. Mostly, Follow used the electro-needler as intended.
Now, he took aim at FouBreak, still stumbling as blood spilled over his hand clenching his side.
Unfortunately, FouBreak wasn't as stunned as Follow hoped. He dodged the first two shots easily. Follow only had four left. His only means of recharging the dual tool and weapon was back in Vespasien.
Follow heard FouBreak charge his blaster again. He sprinted towards the back of the warehouse before the first shots were fired, just missing his bare feet. Follow's gaze snapped behind him: not to track FouBreak's aim, but to check on Astra and Houhou.
Neither he nor FouBreak had noticed just how close the battling cyborgs had gotten. Sparks flew as Houhou’s scythe struck the ground, both Astra and FouBreak barely getting away in time.
“Watch where you’re swinging!” FouBreak raised his fist at Houhou. “Stay focused on Makula, con!”
Houhou was so close. His scythe arm was near directly above FouBreak as he stumbled back, stalling while the Enforcer searched for Astra.
With Houhou’s increased size, even at a distance, Follow saw his limbs decently clear. A mental map formed from years working on his fellow rebels’ cybernetic limbs and augments formed, like puzzle pieces falling into place. Often, there was a bolt in the center of cybernetic wrists holding the hand and arm together.
Follow just needed his blurry eyes to focus enough for a clear shot. He just had to push all hesitation to the side.
A spark jumped from Houhou’s wrist, the glowing nail finding its mark. Metal squealed, the scythe plummeting to the ground.
Plummeting to FouBreak.
The traitor had no time to react beyond looking up, long enough for his doom to sink in.
It was one thing for Follow to watch blue coolant splatter across a battlefield while Astra fended off Enforcers. It was another to see deep, crimson blood spill, first from the blade impaling the left side of FouBreak’s chest, then from his mouth.
FouBreak didn’t have enough time to throw another verbal jab at Follow, Astra, or even Houhou. Only his enraged gaze and rattling, final breath left him before he went limp.
Everything was suddenly far too quiet. Follow was far too aware of his own ragged breaths, of his hammering heartbeat. Both felt too much like a blessing.
A shrill clang of metal shattered the quiet. Chattering static punctuated the sudden racket. Follow’s gaze pursued the noise, landing on Astra.
He lay on the ground, propped up by his remaining arm. Deep scratch marks raised the concrete beside him. Houhou thrashed ahead, none too happy about his severed appendage.
Just behind Houhou, Monk and Tromp paused their battle, both staring at Follow with wide eyes in disbelief.
“He… he actually…” Tromp’s voice was just barely audible, given how far he and Monk stood from Follow. “FouBreak… C’est naze! Allez, dégage!” Tromp threw his rifle as if holding the thing burned his fingers. “You win, alright!” He raised shaking, gloved hands. Monk tilted his head. “Putain, it's not worth all this! Just leave me alone!” Monk glanced down at Astra, while his third eye watched Tromp sprint back to the doorway. Astra nodded, inaudible message loud and clear.
Let him go. We're not monsters. Not like them.
Two traitors out of the picture, two still stubbornly fighting for a lost cause.
Somehow, Sonar was the one to start causing trouble, a stray shot from his handblaster nailing Astra in his shattered thigh. Though Follow attempted retaliation, Sonar was a much skinnier target than FouBreak. With how violently Houhou was shaking above them, pulling the same trick twice was out of the question. Follow was down to two shots. He could only hope Atlanta would fair better.
“A-Atlanta,” Astra croaked, rising to his haphazardly repaired knees. “Foll-l-l-low. Run. You're bo-both í̷̥ṅ̴̫j̷̳̄ų̸͑r̷̫̈e̵̤͗d̶̨͝.”
Atlanta? Just as Astra said, there was a growing, dark stain along Atlanta's left sleeve. But Atlanta could “repair" himself, given enough time. Astra lost that luxury years ago.
“And look at the state you're in!” Follow argued. “We can’t leave you behind!”
“Things have c̵͎̋h̴͔͂ā̶̞n̶̹̚g̴̣̒e̵̢͆d̴̩͗. I-I-I can't hold Houhou o-o-off much longer. There's ba-barely enough power for o-o-one EMP b̴̙̋͑̊l̸͚̦̰̕ā̴̞͖̑ś̵̡̠̟̋t̷͓̽̃ͅ.”
“Ah-! Mince!” Atlanta whimpered. The distinct sound of a palm slapping against uncooperative machinery punctuated his dread.
I'm not the only one running out of options. Follow gulped.
Then, Astra's words sank in.
Running out… of power… Running…
“Okay, starlight.” Follow sternly nodded. “Atlanta! Follow me!” He waved a hand as he ran towards the airshuttle. “Monk! Cover for us!
“Wha-what about Astra!?” Atlanta yelped, nevertheless obeying. Meanwhile, Monk hesitantly nodded, clawed hands launching towards Houhou's legs. Only when Atlanta was practically at Follow's side, less than a meter away from the scaffolding, did Follow chance a whisper.
“Of course I'm not leaving Astra. I have a plan. All you have to do is pilot.” Atlanta nodded, though his wide, shaking eyes betrayed his apprehension. As they climbed up to the airshuttle, Follow mustered his focus, fighting to keep his breathing steady. He needed a clear head, needed his hands not to shake too much, needed to keep tears from further blurring his vision. All his senses had to be sharp in order to save Astra.
Atlanta leapt into the cockpit, while Follow climbed into the storage space, laser-focused on the panel just above the ship’s power unit.
“We’ll be in the air in five seconds,” Atlanta stammered. Follow braced himself with a hand against the leather interior as Vespasien jolted upwards. “Will you let me in on this plan anytime soon?”
“There’s a transceiver in the glovebox,” Follow explained as he rummaged through another compartment in the storage area, one which held various spare tools he usually needed for quick repairs. He soon found his screwdriver and began removing the panel. “Turn it on, then hand it to me. After that, turn us around and head towards Astra.” Moments later, Follow felt a nudge against his shoulder, Atlanta handing him the transceiver. The device crackled to life; Follow’s voice echoed throughout the warehouse.
“Monk, get up here now.”
Metal clinked twice: first as Follow flung the unscrewed panel to the side, then as Monk’s claws latched onto Vespasien’s open door. Follow didn’t need to check to know Monk climbed into the storage space with him; Monk’s stuttering voice was confirmation enough.
“S-s-so, how are we-we rescuing-ing-ing-ing Astr-r-ra?”
Monk and Atlanta yelped as Vespasien sped towards the center of the warehouse, towards Astra. Follow remained steady as he located the wires he’d soon need.
“When we get to Astra, grab him and bring him in here,” Follow instructed. Silence proceeded his words, soon broken by Monk’s knowing chuckle.
“Ah! I get it-it-it. Full-full speed-d-d-d ahead, Atla-a-a-anta!”
With his fingers wrapped around the wires, Follow spared a glance at Monk. He wobbled where he crouched from the sheer force of Vespasien’s speed, three eyes scanning the battlefield for their leader. They soon locked on their target, his arms extending with a pop. His teeth clenched, desperately trying to steady himself as he reeled Astra in. His legs shook from the strain. Then, Monk yelped, flung into the back of the cockpit as Astra landed in the storage space with a thud. Coolant from his numerous injuries spilled as he tried to rise to his hand and broken knees, leaving stains all over the leather.
“F-Follow, what are you-you d̴̈ͅo̴̘̾i̵͙͌ṅ̴̲g̴̽ͅ!?”
“What I’m not doing is letting you kill yourself.” Follow looked up, meeting Atlanta’s nervous gaze. “Turn us around, towards Houhou. I’m about to cut the power supply. Just keep us steered in the right direction.”
“You’re about to what!?” Atlanta gasped, though Follow’s stern glare silenced any further questions. Instead, he heeded Follow’s orders, Vespasien creaking as it aimed towards their main threat.
Follow yanked the wires out of their plugs, a snap of electricity sparking from the panel. He scurried to Astra’s side, then twisted the bunch together.
“I s-see… Looks li-li-like you ḵ̶̡̐n̵͉̝͂õ̸̞ẃ̵͚̐ what you-ou’re d-d-doing.” Astra watched Follow use the trigger of his needler as pliers to clamp the wires together.
“You wouldn’t have asked me to join you if I didn’t,” Follow noted with a tired smile. Then, he shoved the bunched wires into the port on the nape of Astra’s neck. The cyborg jolted, his eye flickering. “What percent are you at now?”
“45%”
If he gets an EMP blast off now, he’ll only be at 20% charge… Follow’s teeth dug into his lower lip. But that might be enough to keep him alive if we go back to my place-
“Mecs, we’re losing a lot of altitude,” Atlanta warned with a whimper. “Houhou’s closing in too. Whatever you’re going to do, you better do it fast!”
“It’ll be enough,” Follow assured Astra. “I won’t let you die, starlight.”
“I-I’m f̶i̵n̵i̶s̵h̵i̷n̴g̶ this.” Astra raised his trembling hand, blue glow in his palm intensifying by the nanosecond. “No matt-tter if I li-li-live or d̴̗̜̥̈̅̓ị̸̥̈́̈́̂e̴̛̻͛̆͜.”
Something weighed heavy in Follow’s chest, something he knew wasn’t caused by the gathering electricity in Astra’s core. The worry lingering in the back of his mind from the moment Astra left to shut down the Mountain resurfaced: that perhaps Astra didn’t intend on surviving his mission.
Starry eyes, I wish you could see how wanted you are.
Logically, Follow knew it was inadvisable to hold any part of Astra when so much electricity was coursing through numerous loose wires. His heart couldn’t stand the thought of not holding on to Astra, as if his soul might slip away if Follow didn’t keep him close.
“Merde, we’re gonna stall at this rate!” Atlanta yelped.
“No we’re not.”
Static gathered in Follow’s hair, his arm hairs standing upright where he grasped Astra’s shoulder. It lingered in his fingertips, nearly painful in the hand holding onto his lover. A wave of dizziness hit Follow when the pressure changed around Astra.
BOOM!
Metal screeched what may as well have been miles away. Follow didn’t have to look out the cockpit window to know Houhou’s power source was fried, that the towering Enforcer would soon tumble to the ground. If the racket from the mech collapsing wasn’t confirmation enough, Atlanta sealed the deal.
“Houhou’s down! Follow, please tell me you’re gonna get us back in the air, please-”
Follow held his breath as he ripped the twisted wires from Astra’s neck. His eye flickered again before shutting. It felt as if an elephant were sitting on Follow’s chest as he untwisted the wires, plugging each back into the power unit.
“The-the-there we go!” Monk cheered as Vespasien stilled, the shuttle rumbling from electricity returning to its systems. “S-see? You wor-wor-worry t-t-t-too much, mon ami!”
“You guys are gonna send me to an early grave,” Atlanta groaned. Their banter may as well have been radio static for all it mattered to Follow. Instead, his focus was returned to his haphazard toolbox. Though he found what he was looking for quick, it still took far too long for Follow’s already fraying nerves.
With shaking hands, he placed both clips leading to the diagnostic unit to either end of Astra’s spinal column.
“Oh, merci.” Follow hadn't felt so relieved since Astra regained consciousness after Believe ripped him in half. The indicator light on the small box glowed consistently. There was still enough power in Astra's core to maintain brain activity. He was going to live.
It all crashed into Follow, crumbling the dam he’d built up around his fragile heart. Every fear about Astra’s fate shoved away, every doubt in his ability to fix his lover, every worry for both of their futures.
His body collapsed along with his resolve, his arms closing around Astra’s limp chassis as if he’d vanish without Follow’s touch. Tears trailed from his cheeks onto Astra’s chest vents.
“Follow…” Atlanta timidly mumbled, voice barely audible between his position at Vespasien’s cockpit and Follow’s sobs. “Where are we…?”
“M-my place,” he muttered through trembling breaths. “M-more secure. Repairing all… this, will take time.”