It was as if he was in a pitch black room. Lance felt himself breathing, lungs quickly working, pushing air in and out of his mouth. He couldn't see anything, and distantly he realized his eyes were shut. Closed completely. The only movements he could make were his eyes running beneath their lids, searching for something that wasn't total darkness.

He wasn't breathing through his mouth; he was breathing through his nose. That first part was something of a dream. Him coming back to conscious. Or at least, something close to it. He still couldn't see anything.

Gradually, he noticed a deep red-pink bleed into his sight, revealing silhouettes standing around him. They were tall bodies, heads all focused downwards. Like he was on a table. He could feel it now, vaguely sense the solidness supporting his body, the metal beneath his fingers. Half real and half not, like he was still in some kind of dream.

"The one who contacted you, human." One of the figures was speaking to him, words powerfully ringing out. "Give us his voice."

The memories were replaying in Lance's mind, repeating as if he were watching a movie with no way to pause or stop it. He saw the sight that came with his body jerking, lunging forward as he was scared out of his own nightmare. Then relaxing, eyes closing. He was turning away from his amp, walking back to his bed as the voice came to him. Speaking from everywhere.

"You need to get out of there. You've got someone coming for you and I'm not completely sure what's going to happen. I just know it's not going to be good for either of us."

The images faded, and almost right away the sight of the red-pink light dimmed as well. He was fading into that darkness, hearing only a language he didn't recognize from those still above him.

I'm not completely sure what's going to happen, Lance thought, repeating the voice's words. I just know it's not going to be good.

For either of us.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Consciousness fell back into Zidane, forcing his eyes wide open again. There was something different; something had changed. He'd felt another presence.

Did someone get a hold of my scent? he thought, taking slow movements to raise himself to somewhere between lying down and sitting upright. From all the way down here?

His mind flew back in time, speeding through every face he'd seen in this place over the years. Nobody that was even close to suspicious. All just normal people. This area was safe—it's the whole reason they'd come.

He slipped his legs out from underneath the sheets, the weight of his pants heavier now that he was running on two hours of sleep. He pushed past it, forcing himself to stand up, still taking those careful movements even in the darkness of their room.

It's been a while since I've moved like this.

These silent steps were like gliding, soundlessly moving him to another part of the bedroom. Within moments he was against the wall beside the doorway, leaning back and looking out until he could begin to see into the hall. He let a breath move through his lips, feeling the hilt of a sword materialize into his grasp. The energy travelled upwards, becoming parallel with his forearm as the blade was created. Curved and thick, with a painfully jagged edge beginning halfway through. The energy tapered off a few inches past his elbow, finishing the materialization of the blade.

He focused back on the hallway, searching through the shapes in the darkness he could make out. Just their normal furniture... He wasn't feeling anything, either...

He sensed a spike in energy; a fear from the bed's other occupant. Zooka met his eyes, and he was sure his own looked just scared as hers.

"Jesus, Zoo..." He tried to relax, lowering the sword a little. "Don't do that to me..."

"Sorry." He could sense those thoughts bouncing around her head again, building up the guilt and making her feel worse than she really should be. But even then he should be the one at fault...

"Did you hear something?" She was speaking in a rushed whisper; she was way too scared for something so small. She had probably woken up when he first moved, and let her imagination terrorize her until she noticed he was at the doorway.

Great job, Zidane. Nice work not influencing her sleep. She doesn't need this...

These thoughts came as he said his response, looking out into the hallway, shifting the blade to rest closer against his forearm.

"Yeah, I heard something," he whispered back.

Lie number two-hundred and forty seven.

That one was a joke; he'd lost count somewhere around six months ago.

He looked back to her, captured by the sight for a single moment. The artificial moonlight had created a strip across their bed, the light running across the folds of the sheets, the sleek rises her legs created underneath. The ends of the bedsheet were near her chest, bunched up and wrapped around her fingers like she was trying to mummify herself with the tension. She was staring at him still, complete fear in her eyes. She wanted him to go fix whatever this was, go be her hero because he was the only one that could.

And he wanted to. He also wanted to stay there, wanted to take every single detail of her in. Something was telling him this was a moment he wasn't getting again. Not even close.

He pushed the fear back, ramming it far away from himself. Not letting it touch his face, his eyes.

"I'll go see what it was," he said softly, beginning to step through the doorway and into the hall. "Probably a raccoon..."

She didn't laugh at his joke, and he didn't expect her to. They both knew there was no way a raccoon could get so far underground. With a silent breath, he left a tendril of energy behind himself, reaching out towards her human aura like a magnet. She let it influence her, and a weight that had been too heavy on his chest lifted as she relaxed.

He moved deeper into the hall, sword still flipped to rest by his arm. He felt the blade graze against his elbow as he moved, the pressure not hard enough to spill any blood. Hopefully he wouldn't need to—his blood or someone else's.

Could I even do that?

He approached the front door, seeing the pale lamps outside shining through the small half-circle window near the top of the entrance. He continued on from the side, not knowing where this intruder was watching from; only that he could still feel the same familiar energy beyond the other side of the door.

He passed through the entrance, phasing through the wood of the door, the frame of the entrance, and the material of the apartment wall all at once. The breath he released, the one that allowed him to do this, slipped from his mouth silently.

Halfway through, as his other foot phased through the door, his mind shot to his appearance. The pants were baggy enough but the loose muscle shirt was fully exposing the markings on his arms. His tail was out, too.

Whoever it was already had his scent. There was no use trying to cover himself up.

He looked up, seeing a tall figure silhouetted by the plaza balcony's lights. Then the darkness covering the figure fled, unseen light revealing them. A Razalek; Zidane known that as soon as he had seen how tall they were. But the amount of piercings and their clothing said royalty.

No... A wound reopened, descending a deep wave of fear into him. I wasn't about to save him. I wasn't able to stop it...

"Our Deity has requested your presence immediately." The words were spoken in a language that was almost nostalgic. He hadn't heard it in a long time. "She has sent you this as well."

A book suddenly materialized in front of him, the darkness being used as the transportation medium. He reached out a hand, letting the small book drop into his grip. His eyes scanned the cover, the words embossed into the yellow coloring.

Dimension Traveling & Solfluxes.

So she was having him go get... Whoever he was speaking to before. Even with connecting to his mind, he hadn't retrieved a name.

Another mistake. I'm already messing this up...

"I'm surprised Ezyta sent someone up here," Zidane said, his mouth feeling a little dry, speaking such old words. "Always thought she would've just contacted me herself."

"Our Deity is very preoccupied," the messenger responded. He seemed proud. "And I would be lying if I didn't say I was curious about seeing a mixed; one living with humans, no less."

Anger forced Zidane's hand to grip the sword harder. He gritted his teeth together as he leaned over, arms raising to his sides as he bowed. He flipped the hilt of the sword, allowing it to extend the length of his arm further. The blade caught the lights, sweeping a flash across the Razalek's body.

"Well take a good look," he said, keeping his stare on the messenger. "You want to see my ears, too?"

"No." The smile on the Razalek's face was nothing short of amused. "I'm sure they're equally horrendous. I wouldn't want more of you haunting my day."

Zidane tsked as he straightened, releasing only a bit of the anger he was feeling. It didn't matter, anyway. This was nothing new to him... How could he be getting this angry, when Zooka was right here?

Guilt touched the anger, cooling down the flames. He suddenly heard a footstep creak behind the door and turned around to watch the entrance open.

He dropped the sword, letting it fall through the ground and disappear. At the same moment, the book in his hand was suddenly reduced to pieces, quickly swept away by a materialized wind. The object being teleported to somewhere he could easily retrieve it later, when he needed it...

The dome above them began filtering in morning-like light as Zooka blinked at him, green eyes much more relaxed than before. She was dressed, too, the baggy shirt she was wearing before replaced by the standard white uniform of a medical trainee.

"I thought I heard your voice out here. What're you doing outside?"

He looked behind himself, the Razalek gone. The energy influence he'd given Zooka before... He must have accidentally wiped her memory of the last few minutes, too.

"C'mon." She reached forward, taking his hand in hers. "I'll make your favorite breakfast while you get ready."

He stopped himself from walking forward, back into their home. This was what he felt before; he felt like he wouldn't be able to turn back, and this was the reason why.

Zooka stopped when she realized he wasn't moving with her. She stared at him from the distance of both their arms together, worry quickly touching her face. Messing up the space in between her eyebrows.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Zidane said, speaking quieter than she was. He looked into her eyes again, feeling that warmth he always had. His hold on her hand tightened. "I love you, Zooka. You know that, right?"

She smiled, the expression curving the bottom of her eyes. "Of course I do, Zidane. I love you, too."

"Good." The response was more to himself than to her. He stepped up, standing in the doorway again, gently guiding her hand until she was standing right in front of him. His other hand found her hair, slipping through the soft strands above her ear, gently burying themselves there.

"I want you to remember that, okay?" He spoke against her hair, head bowing enough for him to get lost in her scent. "No matter what happens. I want you to remember I love you more than anything."

"Zidane..." She didn't pull away, keeping herself against him. "What's going on? You're scaring me."

I'm sorry. He couldn't say the words aloud, instead holding her against him a little more. He loved her. He was doing all of this for her...

He swallowed, forcing away the emotions threatening to render him silent. He kissed her head, then again, towards the crown.

"I'll be back soon, alright?" he said, beginning to unravel his hold.

Zooka didn't protest, voice a little bit distant as she replied. "A-Alright. Should I still make breakfast?"

His heart almost broke at the innocence. He squeezed her hand a little tighter, planting a kiss on her forehead. He spoke with his forehead against the top of hers.

"Yeah. I'll be here again before you finish setting up the table."

"Okay." She didn't ask where he was going, and he knew why. There was only a few places he would go—only a few that he could go. "Is everything alright?"

He was stepping out the door when she said that, his clothing changed into the ashen grey uniform of a standard SWAT combat trainee. Their hands were still connected, holding one another through the doorway. He looked back, seeing her notice the change in outfit. Had that answered her question?

"Yeah, everything's fine." Another lie. One she probably saw through this time.

The worry on her face wasn't letting up. In fact, that crease between her brows was only getting worse, her frown sinking a little deeper. He leaned forward, taking her hand in both of his. His lips met the beginning of her fingers, eyes never breaking from hers. The worry on her face was relaxing, calming a bit.

"Twenty minutes," he said, bowing his forehead to touch the spot he had kissed. "You can count the seconds. I'll be walking through this door again in less than twenty minutes."

He hoped Ezyta would be fast enough to keep that promise. He hoped the human he was trying to save would stay alive long enough to keep that promise...

"Okay," Zooka said, accepting his words. "Twenty minutes. I'm holding you to it."

That statement was so out of character for her. He looked up, knowing his eyes were even brighter than they normally were when she was around. She returned his smile with her own, all tension in her face gone. She trusted him completely.

That's what makes this so difficult. He nearly crumbled at the thought, composure being held upright by the realization that he had to go. He needed to get moving, now.

After one last kiss to her hand, he let go, straightening to his full height.

"I'll be back soon." How many times did he have to lie to her like this?

Zooka nodded, accepting him completely. Zidane let out a breath, pulling his mind away from their surroundings, allowing the fire sparking at his feet to sweep around him, swirl upwards until it covered his body completely. Bringing him to a place deep, deep inside the center of the Earth.