Fall to dust and shed your tears, but you won't see me for a million years.

The very instant Project Phoenix - collectively, for the last time - made their way out of the Empire's base and became entwined in the cold night air, Nora - bitter Nora Belasco, lying, unashamed Nora Belasco - flew in a direction separate from the helicopter. Flew up. Flew above the trees. Shot away, flitting faster than any man-made vehicle across a heavy sky. It was moist with impending rain. This, however, didn't impede her flight. She merely fled faster, fast enough to leave the island of Japan behind and fall upon the city of Vladivostok in the span of two hours.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

It was long, and it was arduous, but it gave her time to think. Thought. Was it something she truly wanted? No, not at all. Was it something she needed? Certainly. Black sky against a black, undulating sea proved to be just as hypnotic as driving along the same road for too long, and eventually, as she reassured herself, her mind would've drifted even without the aid of personal compliance.

She'd just made a choice. She'd chosen to leave the Empress behind. Left her in chains, in captivity, under the guise of death, but she was still very much alive, and what had probably been her last hope had been squandered. Squandered by Nora. Her heart dropped, left her reeling in the air, but she composed herself, had to compose herself. Sakura Sato was a criminal. An interrogator, a robber, a beater, a torturer; Sakura Sato was a murderer, and Nora couldn't think how, in any universe, it would be morally correct to allow such a being to walk beside her or down the pristine white halls of headquarters or into a fight, knowing she'd have no qualms over killing her opponent. There was a reason Nora'd always shot for the knee and not the brain. The knee. Not the brain.

"Fuck her, then," she muttered, chest heaving against the wind. "She made her own decisions. Not my problem. Not my burden."

And so, with this conviction flying high alongside her, she proceeded on.

Ebb and flow, the bitter sea. Wing beat.

A Russian airport sent her to a California airport and the California airport sent her to the earth, where her feet landed soft and unburdened, but bitter all the same, on ground she knew and trusted.

But then, seeing swarms of people holding their luggage and dragging their kids along violently by the wrists, seeing them running along with places to be, Nora came to wonder, What now? There she stood, right in the middle of a bustling crowd, unmoving. A woman with a set of pearls on her glanced too long at Nora's old tight uniform, the torn get-up of resilient cloth, the torn get-up of resilient skin scabbed over. Gave it a distasteful look. Nora crossed her arms. "Have a plane to catch, miss?"

The woman scurried away.

Others gave her similar looks, but Nora figured she'd used up all of her remaining energy on the pearl-lady. Exhaustion overpowered anger; she shuffled over, head down, to a nearby bench. And sat. And sat. And sat. Nowhere to be. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do.

It wasn't like she'd never lived that way before. Memory brought her to working odd jobs just to keep herself busy and alive, and then staring up at the ceiling of some rented-out room with a shitton of unidentifiable stains in them, and then packing up and getting on a bus to some new destination. But the past few weeks'd kept her too busy to pack up and leave, too dedicated to flee. She didn't particularly want to go someplace new. And she'd be damned if she had to take another bus.

She sat straighter.

I don't have to take the unhygienic bus. I can take a goddamn car if I want. Her body squirmed upon the bench briefly. I've worked my ass off. I've been shot at and thrown out a window. I deserve a car. I deserve one good thing to come outta all of this. She had no reward to hope for anymore. She wasn't under any protection program and she wasn't stacked with payment and she still had her name. Her only plan, the only thing she ever considered could've happened, was no longer happening, so now she had to move on.

It was time to go, and she would treat herself to her own earnings.

Joints popped and muscles creaked, but she stood. The armor was hardly attached to her uniform anymore, and it felt clunky against her abdomen, her chest, so her fingers twined around the edges and yanked it off with a stretchy rip. They discarded the extra shit on the bench, and Nora left that all behind, stretching, walking - no, marching - and a little more open to the world than before.

Her straight-backed journey got her a few strange looks, but she cared very little for those she'd never see again, and observed with a hard stare at signs. A glowing arrow directed her along until she got outside and came to a little glass building with rows and rows of the neatest, cleanest cars on the west coast. Or something like that. She hadn't lingered on the sign.

There was a little open window there like you'd see at a drive thru or ticket booth, and a little open man, jaw slack at any given moment. A family had just stepped away, the mother twirling a set of keys in her hand, and the line cleared entirely. The way'd been made for Nora and she stepped up to the window to rest her scuffed arms on the sill. "I need a car."

The man kept his eyes down and scoffed quietly to himself. "Obviously. Did you happen to reserve online?"

Nora chewed the inside of her cheek. "Well, no. I didn't know I had to. Can't I just rent, y'know...here?"

"Unfortunately, no. We have a policy where you reserve online, pay here, 'nd get out there on the road. Makes it less painful for all of us. You can always come in and work it out at one of our computers though. But that'll cost you an advisory fee." He finally looked up, and his eyes drifted across her figure, taking in all that she wore. "Do you have insurance, ma'am?"

Her brows knit instinctually, and a slow sigh spread itself free of her nostrils. "How much does a rental typically cost, anyhow?"

"Couple hundred a day, depending. You're still interested?"

A bark of a laugh left her lips before she could hold it back, but, then again, she hadn't ever been the sort to hold things in. She stepped away from the counter and swayed, continuing to chuckle. "Right. Money's a thing. Of course." But still, her resolve hadn't been broken; she scanned the lot again, found the mother ushering her kids into her temporary minivan, and jogged her way. "Hey! Hello!"

The woman looked up, the plumpness of her cheeks flushing red in the California heat (obviously, she wasn't from the area, but neither was Nora). She, too, seemed to catch sight of Nora's unsightly appearance, and pressed herself closer to the car. "Yes?"

Nora hopped closer, and the woman gasped. When the former held out her arm without direction, the woman gasped louder. "Honey!" she called. "I believe this woman wants something from us!"

"Cool it. I'm not gonna mug you, if that's what you're thinking. I need a shower. Anyways, I just need you to grab hold of my wrist here. And then, while you're holding it, I need you to say, 'Get that man to give you a free rental car...'" She thought more. "'...without a deadline.' Understand all that?"

The woman cocked a red eyebrow, but grabbed hold of Nora's wrist anyhow, however daintily. "Alright. Get that man to give you a..." Nora nodded her forward. "...a free rental car. Without a deadline."

With a brief "thank you," she turned back to the window, walking at a steady pace while waiting for the eye to settle-

Of broad shoulders and strong spine, a girl embraces cooperation with the parasite of her body. There is something new and fresh about the entrance this eye receives - there is no fear or panic in the host's body, and there is no reluctance. The body is...warm. The body exudes this, hips swaying, a smile cocked on a blistered lip. She isn't the prettiest with all that blood and all those scars but she is quite the woman and the eye decides that a little bit of superhuman charm has never hurt anyone. Except that one time with the host previous.

She slides her arm upon the sill again, and whistles for the slack-jawed man's attention, which he hardly gives but nonetheless must. "You're back?"

Again, she says, "I need a car."

The man looks at her, slightly intrigued against his own will, but he breaks the hold himself, shaking his head. "And I need a million bucks. And a castle. And a nacho supreme from Taco Bell. But we don't all get what we want. Unless you've made a reservation, I can't help you." He moves to close the window, but the host's hand flicks out before he can move so much as a finger, and she traps each of his hairy knuckles in her hold. This, finally, begs forth his full attention.

Her eyes, glowing fluorescent blue, catch the putrid color of his, and they're stuck that way. "I need a car," she rolls, enunciating slowly, "and I need it free without any restrictions and without any deadline. Essentially, I need you to give me a regular car and I need you to lie about its absence. I have somewhere to be, y'see, and someone I need to check on. To comply would be your easiest bet. What d'ya say?"

She tilts her head, awaiting his response, and another flush of supernatural charisma mists out of her and against him; he inhales, and a film falls over those dead eyes. "Take your pick," he says monotonously.

An excitement trickles into the host's body and the eye feels it. Nonetheless, it allows her to look around, and her finger lands on something red and fast. "This one," she says perkily. She returns to the counter and holds a hand out, awaiting the keys. "Fill out the paperwork once you're released from my hold, 'kay? And make sure your lie is a good one."

Metal bounces against the host's palm, and she turns around, goal accomplished. The eye can't help but think that this is a little bit wicked, but it is not up to it to decide the line of good and evil.

Good night, 'til waking comes again.

Nora woke up with a tiny piece of metal in her hand and a cheer in her throat. "Fuck yeah!" Something red caught her eye, and because it did, she figured her decision would've been much the same under the influence of power. When she tried one of the keys in the lock, it worked, and another "fuck yeah" whistled out of her throat. Excitement pinched at her belly. "I own a mustang now. Holy shit."

Faced with leather and a short roof, she slipped in, immediately feeling the pent-up heat. She shut the door, turned the ignition on - feel that puppy growl! - and let the AC blast. The windows were tinted. This, to her, was power. It was a power she'd remember, at least.

Yet, still, something held tight around her body. Everything was pulling at her skin, itching and squeezing and suffocating-

Nora grunted, grabbing the hem of her shirt and yanking the death-trap off. She struggled with it, but when it came off, leaving her with the comfort of the tank she'd entered headquarters with, it felt like freedom. In fact, it felt so much like freedom that she stripped the entirety of the uniform off, flinging the pants, shirt, shoes, and pistol to the passenger seat, with little mind for the pain of the wounds they ripped at. Everything was bare save the tank and shorts when it was said and done.

"Fina-fucking-ly," she breathed. "Fina-fucking-ly."

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Sitting there, with her hands on the wheel and body free of the constraints of Project Phoenix, she looked through the windshield. Foot hovering above the gas. Radio running through the stations. Hesitation in her grip. One question still remained: where would she go?

Where could she go?

She deliberated over this a moment, tooth grinding into her lip, but a name'd already entered her mind, been there since she got in the damn thing. Nora didn't wanna act upon it, didn't wanna get any closer to that forbidden desert town than she had to. That'd put her at risk. What would her madre and padre think if they saw her, what would her brother do if he found her?

But then she came to realize something that warranted the greatest amount of freedom a person could harbor:

"I don't quite give a fuck."

And so, the name entered - Aiyana - and she lashed her hand upon the gears and put the beast in drive. Her bare foot slammed the gas, and she took off, blaring out of the parking lot in a fit of dust and exhaust.

The drive gave her joy. The rumble of the engine and the newness of this vessel gave her joy. Driving along according to the rules of the road gave her joy, blending in with traffic gave her joy, and the blur of California through the windows gave her joy. It was quiet, and she drove without end, drove without break, drove until the sun had faded beyond the land and left the sky a descending blue. And then she saw more blue, caught herself in the rearview mirror up in front of the windshield, and though she didn't mean to stare at herself so long, she couldn't rightly help it.

She looked tired. It was the truth, at least. Good sleep would come soon, it would. And she was thinner than before. Good food would come soon, it would. And she had a wrinkle or three more by her eyes and between her brows and those would only keep coming but that was okay. And her hair, the roots of her hair were reverting back to her natural black, blue fading but still fried and choppy at the end. I don't think I'll dye it again. I don't need to. The car passed under a streetlight and it illuminated all of the skin she'd exposed; ink trailed against her arms, her collarbones, down her leg. Then the light was gone, and she couldn't see herself as well, but she knew that she was all there.

The turn signal flicked on, clicked in that rhythmic way it always did, and she passed under another light. That time, she saw the uniform heaped on the other seat. An idea came to her, then, and she wasted no time in acting upon it.

The window rolled down and she bunched up the shirt in her free hand. Coming off the freeway, she stuck that arm right through the opening and, with the cold wind lashing the hair into her face, she dropped the uniform into the street and left it behind.

Exhilaration.

She did it again, quickly, with the pants, with each boot separately, letting them fly and tumble and, once that was all done, she sped off, laughing to herself. "So much for 'reinventing' me, Project Phoenix! And a big 'ole-" She paused to stick her hand out the window, flipping the bird to nothing in particular. Maybe other birds. "To Merle and Palila!" Head shook. "But you know very little of what you can do," she mimicked. "I know plenty. I know plenty."

~

Nora left California that night and entered the blazing state of Arizona, moving through it in the dark of night and stopping only briefly once the sun rose again for breakfast (which, again, she got free through unconventional means). Then she was on the road again. Other cars fell away and streetlights fell away and trees fell away and soon all there was was shrubbery and endless road, surrounded on either side by dry dirt.

Temptation came with the introduction of a classic on the radio, a ding of church bells, the signature of AC/DC and, well, fuck, she hadn't heard them in years! So she spun the dial up until the threat of going deaf rattled her ears, and her blistered feet slammed on the gas, and she sped along with no threat of being caught lingering behind. Hah! If only Maanyo were sitting in the back, eyes wide with a "we're gonna crash" on his lips. Or if Reason were there shouting encouragement. Or if King was- well, drinking his cocktails down, of course.

But they weren't there. Perhaps that was a good thing.

Rock and roll, the bitter girl. Heart beat.

Eventually, she came to a town, dust and sand familiar, and had to slow. Her demeanor went from one of whooping and hollering to another of focus and observation, of craning a neck and squinting against the glare of the hot sun. "Oh, god, let's hope I still remember where she lives."

A white apartment complex came into view, all one-story, but all connected, and Nora pulled into one of the narrow painted spaces before shutting everything down and leaning against the seat. The leather squeaked behind her. This should be Aiyana's place. I hope, at least. Jesus...how long's it been since we talked face to face? Was that her breath picking up? Yes, but from the place or the heat? Get out. Nobody'll see you. Nobody'll find you. Just get out.

Step. Stumble. Omit the fall.

Her thighs had to unstick from the seat, but she got out, and before she knew it she was up by the door, knocking thrice, like Aiyana liked it. At first, anxiety fell apart in her stomach, because what if she wasn't home, or had moved homes? But before she could deliberate any further, the door opened, and there stood a woman, alive and well, and just as speechless as Nora herself.

"Your boobs are bigger," was the first thing to fly out of Nora's mouth. A silence passed, but then Aiyana was laughing, laughing, laughing, crying.

"You ain't stepped foot in this state in five years, Nora Belasco. Five years. And you don't look any damn different. Get in here."

She complied, and the door closed behind her. Air conditioning was a luxury Nora'd not yet gotten used to. The apartment was nice, but Aiyana looked nicer - different - and she just couldn't stop staring. Sure, her shoulders were especially broad, and her dark hair looked especially coarse, and her jaw was rather square- but she was her, and her was pretty. Really? Her was pretty? C'mon, me.

"You look thirsty. D'you want anything? I have lemonade."

"Eh."

"And wine."

"Yes, please."

While Aiyana wandered into her kitchen, Nora wandered through the living room. It was all white, pristine. Like headquarters. But homelier. The television was buzzing with life, and Nora ignored it, mostly, in favor of glancing at pictures on shelves she'd never seen before, but the noise distracted her, and then the footage. She looked up.

The news was playing, and a recognizable set of dark, swaying trees was lit up by a weather helicopter's lights. But that wasn't all to be seen. A building, a cold, dark building - the Empire's base - was just that. Cold and dark. But then there was heat. And light. A grand explosion of color and fire burst through the roof and into the sky and the surrounding trees caught fire, burning - but then diminishing. Like the flames had never started.

A line of wording at the bottom, highlighted by red and the caption "BREAKING NEWS" read "Colossal explosion in Tokyo, Japan; investigation underway."

Nora's brow twitched but otherwise her expression remained blank and dead. What was done was done.

"Shit," a voice said from behind, and to that, Nora jumped. "Weren't you there just a little bit ago? I've been keeping up with that Project Phoenix stuff. Since you were in it and all." Aiyana handed Nora a crisp glass of purple, and the latter took it gratefully, chugging away. "Damn, girl, savor it at least."

"Yeah," Nora said, gasping. "I was there." She said nothing else on the matter and continued to sip at the wine.

Aiyana ducked her sharp chin down, but then looked up again, a question painted atop her lipstick. "Did you use your...y'know? Did they make you? Did you ever get your reward?" Then: "Why did you come here? I thought you were tryin' to stay away."

Nora swished the alcoholic substance between her cheeks, then swallowed. "Yeah. I used my eye. And no, I didn't get the reward. Turned out the Empress was a pathological liar, and a criminal. It got her killed. And I...well, let's just say...I'm not too fond of running away anymore. Thought I'd make sure you were okay."

Aiyana clasped a hand to her chest. "This is what I've missed about you, Nora. You care so much."

The woman in question ducked her eyes to the floor and kept drinking. "I'm glad you think so," she muttered.

"Say...why don't we take a drive?" Aiyana asked. "I need to stop by and get something and I'm sure you want somethin' to eat. I've only got TV dinners here, so...We can talk."

"Sure. That sounds nice."

Aiyana planned to drive her own vehicle, but once they stepped outside, Nora felt an itch to brag and show off her new wheels. She had to lie a little and say it was simply something Project Phoenix offered her for her hard work, but to her, it wasn't entirely a lie. She wouldn't have gotten the damn thing if it weren't for her recruitment.

"This is so fuckin' sweet!" Aiyana said, bouncing in the place the uniform had once laid.

"Right?"

They drove along that way, making small talk, catching up about things, but whenever a silence fell in which they didn't know what to say, Aiyana knew just how to fill it, and this brought warmth to Nora's smile. It brought meaning to her grins.

"So. You're telling me...that you've got this third eye. And these ravens keep following you around. Girl, my goodness. This is some Game of Thrones shit. The three-eyed raven? That should've been your fucking alias!"

"Okay. I'm going to establish right now that I don't understand a word of what your nerd brain is saying, and we'll just leave it at that." But she still snorted. "I don't need an alias. Never did."

"But," Aiyana shifted to face the driver, "haven't you ever wanted to come up with one? C'mon. What would it be if you needed one?"

Nora's voice strained itself with a noisy sigh, and she stretched her hands across the steering wheel. "Shit, I don't know. Obviously, Three-Eyed Raven is copyrighted. And The Raven is just tacky. Y'know, I don't even think them birds were helping me. I get a bad feeling. So maybe just...Journey or something sounds cool, but it's weird. I don't need an alias."

Finally, they pulled into a gas station, and the both of them got out. "I'll fill up here," Nora said. "You go in and I'll meet you there."

She fulfilled her duties with the small bit of breathing room she needed. Things were looking far better than they'd been a day ago. Fuck that reward, y'know? It was stupid of her to think she needed to hide away when...when all this was still here.

The blessed scent of gasoline.

Nora jogged into the gas station to meet with Aiyana and pay for gas, and she accomplished the latter before carrying on with the former. But she couldn't see the woman there. "Have you seen a woman go anywhere? Tall, real pretty?" she asked the cashier.

The guy pointed to the bathroom in the back. Nora went that way, excited to see her friend's face again, but the front door tinkled at the entrance of another person, and - damn her, damn her for doing so - she looked back, just momentarily.

Bruja! Mi hija! Monstruo! Mi hijo!

Instinctively, Nora reached to her hip for her handgun, but it wasn't there, and she muttered a curse under her breath. The boy - no, the man - glanced back to see what all the fuss was about, but Nora ducked down before he could see her. She could see him clearly, though. She could see him clear as day. He was young and had her face.

That is my brother.

Bloodlust came, but then it went. She listened. His voice was smooth, liquidized, and strong, like her father's. And he sounded nice. He was laughing. "Hey," he said to the cashier up front, "think you can get me a pack of those? Thanks, Jerry. How's your daughter's senior year comin' along? Aw, that sounds great. Graduation party?"

Nora's body tightened.

"No, I think I'll pass. But thanks for the offer. I've had enough graduation parties to last me a while. Thanks anyways, Jerr. Bye now."

And then the door tinkled, and he was gone.

There was some inclination in Nora's body to chase after him. To grab the gun from her car and chase after him and shoot him down. But something was different in how she regarded him; there was no longer a need in her system to see him gone, for she wasn't afraid. Just angry. Unforgiving. But he wouldn't hurt her. Couldn't hurt her.

So she let him go.

Standing, she knocked on the bathroom door and hollered, "I'll see you in the car." Nora then left the station and walked back to her car where it sat.

As she walked, she kicked up dust, and little clouds of it followed behind her. Eyes followed her, too. Beady little black eyes. And talons digging into the wood of a short post slammed into the ground. And feathers ruffling as it watched her, and she watched it. It seemed to gesture behind her, and she looked back briefly to see the back of her brother walking around the corner, but then looked back to the bird.

It gestured again, squawked quietly. Gestured to the car, then the man. As if it wanted her to grab the gun and shoot a bullet right between someone's eyes. And to that Nora said: "Alright."

She unlocked the car, reached under the seat, and grabbed the gun she'd kept with her for so long from year to year, always checking the cartridge, always making sure there was something in it to use. And she checked again, and there was, in fact, something for her to use.

Nora stepped away and positioned her finger over the trigger. Then she looked at the raven. It hopped along and sang it's little "Cr-rr-ruck!" in expectation.

It received a bullet right through the center of its little body. Feathers fluttered off with force and it fell back against the dust and dirt and bled there, blood as black as the rest of it. "You won't trick me again," Nora said to it. "Nobody can do that to me anymore. Not the Empress, not him, and certainly not some feathery fiend."

And so, she shoved the gun back under the seat, and sat herself right behind the wheel again, and when Aiyana came back, she drove, and drove, and drove.

She drove until she couldn't drive anymore

Click. Click. Omit the bang.