Forty-two wondered if he could get away with punching Jackal in the teeth.

Gold never sparkled in such distaste. Especially when there was a gun directed towards them. He still held Daughter’s hand within his grasp. He might’ve not known her, but if it came down to it, he would try to buy time for all of them.

Jackal’s smile widened, his golden tooth shining in the dark, his pupils remained an island within his sadistic look. What he would give to get that off his face.

But he can’t.

He was too weak.

A trait he didn’t share with the man who broke through the wall. Tiger was really worthy of his name after all.

His roar overwhelmed the shout of Jackal, who helplessly struggled as Tiger hit him like a wrecking ball. Before Jackal could recover, however, Tiger grabbed him by the arm and threw him like a rag doll towards the inner brothel.

Forty-one looked him in the eye, assessing, maybe. Was Forty-one unsure if he could deal with what he would ask? He let the Pearl off his shoulders, letting Forty-two take over. Her coolant fluid stained his white shirt, which had many stains of today's adventures with it.

“Get her, load her to the car, and escape towards the border.”

Forty-one revealed a zippo from his pocket. It shone brightly in the night. Yet it was nothing compared to what had followed, Forty-one threw the zippo inside, lighting up the oil-soaked brothel.

The night shone brightly as smoke rose towards the Skydome.

Forty-one didn’t seem to appreciate the view, he rushed inside the building he just set ablaze. All that has been unfolding, it was hard to digest.

Yet the girl in her shoulder needed engineering assistance, urgently at that. He could feel her body slowly heating up, all it would take is for a few circuits to burn, and she would be history.

The building caught up in flames as it waited for this moment to cleanse of its sins. The cheap wood cracked and the scent of burning plastic filled the air. There was nothing but smoke and shouts of sentinels filling up his senses.

He took several steps back, unsure what to do.

There were Sentinels with electro batons in their hands running towards them.

Should he leave Forty-one behind as he said?

“What the hell are you admiring?” Daughter shouted. She was holding Swan’s arm, dragging her towards the maze of an alleyway where Forty-one hid the car. He insisted on leaving it there even when they unloaded all this oil.

Now it made sense, there wouldn’t be much left of them if the car got caught in this hail of bullets.

Not that Sentinels were firing anymore.

Forty-two hastily followed behind Daughter as they made their way. Left, right, right.

There were footsteps, right behind theirs, yet never catching up.

Well, if they caught them up, they would deal with paperwork and potentially will have to fight.

If Forty-two was caught, he would be a prisoner in the hands of Jackal.

Truly, motives dictated it all.

In this maze, it was also hard to keep up with someone who knew the route. He could barely see a gray and black hue left behind Daughter and Swan. They ran, or, to be precise, Daughter ran and dragged Swan behind her back through this hellhole.

There were even beggars at the corners, most of which braced themselves when the footsteps behind Forty-two got too close for his comfort.

He forced himself to run, not relenting to his body's warning, Forty-two ran.

Finally, after a final turn to the right, they reached their destination. There was an empty apartment space. There was a half filled dumpster, an uneasy smell and a broken pipe.

Not too shady to hide this piece of junk car.

As Forty-two got close to the car, he halted.

There was something they forgot.

The keys.

The last thing he felt was a baton hitting behind his back, knocking him unconscious.

***

Forty-one didn’t feel a hinge of guilt on what he had done.

Any other scenario and Pearl would die here.

He can’t afford that, not now.

The building got engulfed in flames just as he wanted, raising the heat to an unsustainable level for most drones, apart from a select few. Not all drones used the same system after all. Likes of him, Tiger and Jackal could survive here.

Yet the Sentinels, who threw themselves inside, to aid their superior had made a huge mistake.

Forty-one observed his surroundings. Around two seconds before he would need to take the sentinels out who stood at the other side of the lobby.

The red leather seats were near his reach, flame creeping towards them. The floor itself also had islands of dry spots surrounded by a sea of blaze. The sentinels dragged their pistols and opened fire to him.

Forty-one threw himself behind the couch, letting them empty their magazine to the empty air. When the rain of bullets stopped, only for a moment, there wasn’t much sound.

If you ignored the burning inferno around them, the creaking wounds and sounds of steel hitting steel echoed from the upper floors, Jackal and Tiger fighting it out.

Tiger would win if this were a fair duel, but it wasn’t.

It hardly would be.

Forty-one took one deep breath and counted down as the flame crept closer to the seats he was hiding behind.

He only had to time it right, rest would be a scavenging hunt.

He dashed up from his cover and jumped over the touch, taking the table as support to jump again and deliver a knee to the sentinel's face who stood in the middle.

Blood curdling screams of the man deafened their ears as flames embraced the sentinel where he fell.

He was overreacting. Forty-one knew burning alive didn’t feel that bad. After the first seconds, there was no feeling.

Yet the screams continued, especially with new friends.

There were two other sentinels left, one to his left and other to his right.

One tried to punch him, while the other tried to shoot him in the stomach.

He grabbed the punching Sentinel from his wrist and sent him towards his right. Both hit their head to the other and dazed for a split moment, but it was enough for Forty-one to deliver a kick to the nearest Sentinel’s back, sending them both towards the wall of flames.

He got away from the corners and made his way to the center of the building.

He had to get towards Tiger’s room, but there was one small speed bump he had to deal with.

A loud rumbling echoed as someone rolled down the stairs. Tiger rolled all the way to the counter, hitting his back, but unharmed.

Forty-one knew the systems used in Tiger’s construction, P.E.S. plus, also known as power, speed, and endurance. When added to his skill, he could win against Jackal even without sight.

But this kind of burning inferno? Jackal had the advantage here.

As the dog was mentioned, he made its appearance.

Jackal steadily walked down the stairs, looking both at him and the Tiger who stood back up.

“One against two, not fair. Is it for old times’ sake, eh?” Jackal closed the distance between him and Forty-one in a moment. “Maybe I should just get rid of you first?”

Forty-one tilted his head to the right, dodging the punch. He grabbed Jackal by the wrist with his left and delivered a gut punch with his right.

Jackal’s fighting pattern was already familiar to him: go for the head, be aggressive, and abuse your speed.

At least if Jackal thought his opponent wasn’t an enforcer. If not, his pattern would change.

Forty-one grabbed him by the collar and sent him tumbling towards Tiger, who got back to his feet.

”Do what you wish, I need to get something from the top floors.”

Tiger didn’t need more incentive as he sat on top of Jackal and started pummeling down his face. Left, right, left. Sometimes going for a smashing strike.

If caught, Jackal was too weak to throw Tiger off. This he found out in a more unfortunate attempt.

Forty-one wanted to admire this scenery more, yet there was something essential for the next phase of their plan.

He made his way up from the stairs to the burning inferno. There were support pillars already starting to fall. He would likely have to jump out of the window and get captured there.

Forty-one made his way towards Tiger’s room. His path was blocked by one of the beams holding the ceiling, or used to. If not for the smoke, the night sky would’ve been visible.

Forty-one’s systems began to increase the danger level. Even his borrowed enforcer systems had a limit to their capacity. He was already above fifty-six degrees and was getting higher with each passing minute, especially at the upper floors.

His body was made for speed and strength, not for endurance. He had to die fast if needed after all.

Forty-one walked away from the wall of the room. The door itself was blocked, but it wasn’t impossible to get into the room.

He just had to make his own path.

Forty-one covered his head and ran towards the wall full speed.

He punched right through and almost hit the flaming wall behind.

He looked around.

The messy bead, the wardrobe that was about to catch fire, and clothes scattering the ground. Many stains, many holes in the halls, and bed frames having cracks due to weak kicks. A proper one would send the entire bed flying, especially one from Tiger.

A broken mirror and a full array of empty bottles. It seems like Tiger preferred whisky above all. Well, Forty-one personally preferred Rakı, alcohol changing color made the drinking at least a fun occasion.

But that was beside the point, he wasn’t out drinking with Entice.

Forty-one turned back and headbutted the wall, remembering her name.

Why now?

He sighed and turned back towards the bed. There was something he needed there.

Forty-one walked towards the bed and ripped the sheets and then the mattress apart.

For some reason, in every loop, the chip changed places. Maybe because he accidentally swallowed it once? Likely not.

He grabbed the mattress and dragged it outside the bed, hitting the ground repeatedly until it came out; it didn’t.

Forty-one sighed and threw the mattress away with one hand.

Location one? Missing.

His body heat alarmed, sixty-one degrees, great.

He held the cupboard from both sides, throwing it sideways where the bed used to stand.

The cupboard itself let its contents out through mid-air, clothes, more bottles, and some trivial documents.

Forty-one wasn’t interested in Enforcer secrets he already knew. Fake wars and rebellions and whatnot. They were insignificant.

He walked towards where he threw the cupboard and punched its outer parts down. Smoke shaded the exterior black, but the interior stayed untouched, for now. He found it there once when Tiger threw him towards the cupboard. It wasn’t a pleasant landing back then.

Yet the wooden cupboard was made out of wood, surprisingly enough.

Location two? Missing.

His body set off alarms. His internal temperature was nearing seventy degrees. Ten more and he will begin to fry internally. No need for that, thank you very much.

Forty-one rolled his eyes as he walked towards the whisky bottles. He grabbed them by their neck and threw them towards the floor, one by one.

Bottle one? Empty

Shards of glass flew around the room. Well, Pearl and Swan wouldn’t be bothered by the mess. They should be arrested by the Sentinels by now.

Bottle two? Broken hopes and dreams of Tiger, also known as more high proof whiskey.

Bottle three, four, and fifth were the same. Yet when he grabbed the bottle six, the small tingles gave him the answer he needed. He threw the bottle to the floor, a golden chip shining in his sight.

He grabbed the chip and placed it under his tongue. It had a cold and chromatic taste, but this was the safest place he had.

Seventy-two degrees. A spray of freezing liquid cells blew inside his body as a last resort.

He had around two minutes left.

He needed ten seconds.

Forty-one left the room, running towards where Forty-two and Daughter were. He poured water there before the attack just for this occasion.

As he expected, the room was fine, for now.

Seventy-eight, there wasn’t much time left.

He could jump directly down, but it would give away his system components.

He grabbed the mattress out of the bed close to him and ran towards the window at full speed.

Glass and wooden frame didn’t last a second as he broke through them, entering a free fall.

Asphalt hit the mattress, which in turn hit Forty-one.

He was in shape to run away, but he shouldn’t.

He should act as if he were knocked out due to heat.

Tiger’s pummeling would handle Jackal’s memory.

Well, there was only one thing left to do.

He let his body loose, smoke rising from it with burn marks all around his clothes.

“Do not move,” A sentinel shouted.

Forty-one didn’t react. He shouldn’t react. He passed out after all.

Someone sat on him, grabbing his arms and handcuffing them. A noticeable ping reaching his ears. Electronic lock made out of specialized alloys. It can easily withstand tons of pressure.

But not something under his tongue.

***

It ached.

It ached a lot.

Echoes, shouts, and cries pummeled the little glimmer that was his consciousness.

Forty-two lived inside his mind, and there was a soul with him. It wanted to open his eyelids, pretend to be something.

But darkness was nice.

It was cold and alone.

Just the way he liked it.

Wake up.

His true self yawned. Why the rush? There wasn’t meaning to it.

In this gloated madness called life, he didn’t want to open his eyes. Reacting, bothering, and thinking. There wasn’t any point.

Darkness feels nice, doesn’t it?

It did. It did too much. He belonged here, considering its comfort.

Do you want some more?

He did, so the darkness stayed. Forty-two liked darkness; he liked being here. Who wouldn’t? It was a place where no one was dead, nor alive, or even existing at all.

He didn’t have to lie there, to be someone else.

Forty-two was him, himself, the one. Lay low and wait for it to end.

He did not exist here.

Now, only to wait for the little kindle light of volition to go out as well.

“Do you plan to lay here, to wither?”

Yes, he did. Thank you very much.

“Really?”

Really. If we woke up, he had to pretend to be a person, existing, or acting like he wanted to deal with it.

“Would she be happy if you withered away?”

Daughter?

“Your sister.”

There was a head attached to his neck, and he was stuck in it.

His eyelids slid open, forcing him to suffer the sharp white light of reality, or wherever he was at. What did Forty-one even have in-store again?

No, Forty-two was someone obnoxious, he had to pretend as such.

His eyes wandered around his surroundings. They were inside most likely a prisoner transport truck, not that he was inside of this one before.

Forty-one found an alternative solution for auto-canons it seems.

Daughter, Swan, and Pearl were sitting at the opposite side. Pearl’s leg seemed to be bandaged with something he couldn’t recognize as of now.

Her white hair was stained blue with her coolant. She was using Swan's shoulder as a pillow, who, in return, used her head for the same goal.

And then there was Daughter, sobbing and saying something. He should act on how she is, right?

Forty-two shaked his head left and right. He had to act the part, his internal thoughts and exterior Forty-two didn’t match.

This was wrong, not good, not right.

Tiger observed the two women sleeping in front of him. Forty-two guessed he was making sure both of them were fine. The man, despite being rugged and smelling of more whiskey than Forty-two’s college years, didn't give the impression of a pervert.

Then there was Forty-one, who was going for the title of the weirdest person in the room.

“If you wake up, then I can start. We should be approaching the checkpoint,” Forty-one gestured to his shackled hand. Looking around once more, Forty-two noticed only his hands were shackled in front rather than behind. “Open your palms/hands.”

Forty-two obliged and regretted it immediately, as Forty-one spit into his hand.

“Now, give me one reason not to strangle you to death,” He should act his part.

“Don’t drop that chip,” Forty-one nodded. “Hold it to your shackles.”

When looking back at his saliva-stained hands, there was a golden chip, shining brightly.

Forty-two grabbed the chip with his index and middle and brought it closer to his shackles. They bimmed and let his hands go, dropping the floor in a loud thud.

Forty-one kicked the ground at the same time, shouting. “Let us go, you coward, and I will kick your ass again.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jackal shouted back, muffled by the wall between them.

Well, that was pleasant.

Forty-two massaged his wrists, they were aching as well. God, he hated pain and discomfort. This did with the exterior Forty-two, so it wasn’t a bother. Forty-two unlocked Forty-one after himself, grabbing the shackles with one hand to make sure they didn’t fall again.

“Give me the chip and get ready,” Forty-one hesitated to grab the chip for a moment, as if expecting for something to happen. He looked Forty-two in the eye. “Do you have your memories back?”

Yes

“No, I have no idea what you are talking about.”