"Gentlemen," Raith looked at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering longer on Gray than any of the others. There was a subtle warning hidden in those eyes, one that Gray found unsettling – did he know? – but he refused to acknowledge it just the same.

He met the Scout flyer's gaze with a calm he did not feel, holding it with a stubborn determination. In his opinion, Raith was a lot like Syk in that both of them were snakes. They poked and prodded until they found a weak spot, and then they'd bite, injecting their venom so they could watch their victim writhe in agony. Raith was a lot more subtle about it, but that didn't make it any better.

Just try it, he thought grimly. He narrowed his eyes a fraction. I've been around the block a few times. You ain't the first snake I've met.

Raith's lips twitched as he broke the gaze, moving on to the mountain of a flyer that stood next to Gray.

The Mountain flyer humphed and folded huge arms across his broad chest. "Just get on with it, Raith." It was probably the most words Gray had ever heard the man speak at once, and he turned his head to stare.

Nothing was going as he expected these days. And he was getting sick of it. Constantly being thrown off his guard, getting slapped by one surprise after the other, it was getting difficult to think with all the noise. He wasn't sure how much more of it he could take before he snapped.

Gray bit back a snarl. It's his fault! Rage growled in his heart, along with a complicated slew of things he didn't want to even think about. Everything had been ruined, and it was all thanks to a purple-eyed bonehead of a flyer.

"Hello, Gray," he'd said, as if nothing had happened. As if everything was just as it was before it all went to hell a few months ago. As if he hadn't died and vanished from the face of the earth. As if his stupid kid hadn't turned traitor and fled Troit, leaving Gray the only Talon left to deal with the mess.

The nerve of that man. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. He should have punched the bastard a lot harder.

"I believe we've found our target's location," Raith told them. Behind him, leaning against one of the tent's supports, was Syk. He'd been lurking around the Scout a lot, lately. The two of them were thick as thieves, which didn't exactly give Gray good vibes.

Gray gave the Twelve medic a dark stare. He wasn't surprised when Syk's head turned and those pale eyes met his own. A slow, chilling smile carved itself across that narrow face, not even coming close to reaching the medic's stone-cold eyes. Gray sneered and deliberately looked away.

The know-it-all medic had already lost. Too bad he didn't know it. They thought they were hunting down a boy, a baby Talon, but they didn't know of the looming shadow waiting for them. That thought soothed his anger some, redirecting it toward something dark and gleeful.

"Where?" Maji Ra's voice was soft, but clear. The small River flyer sat on the ground, legs folded beneath himself. He had one of his blades unsheathed on his lap. It wasn't one of the modern types manufactured by Troit, but one of the older styles made by folding steel in a forge. It gleamed a bright silver, the shine brought out by the soft cloth that Maji Ra currently polished it with.

"Shann Tei," Raith stated. He waited, but no one said anything. It seemed the answer didn't surprise anyone. Gray watched the Scout closely, but Raith schooled his features well, betraying nothing. A rather fitting location, isn't it, Raith?

Lante rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He sat on the corner of the table that served as Raith's desk. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing conclusive," Raith said. "One of my scouts didn't report back."

"And the others?"

Raith gave a chilling, humorless smile. "They saw nothing."

"Hmm," Lante took that in. His fingers tapped against his chin. It looked like he'd thought of something, but he chose to keep it to himself.

It made Gray want to scoff. These Twelve were all the same. High and mighty and secretive. Raven hadn't been any different, but at least he'd been tolerable. These games were a waste of time, in Gray's opinion. He didn't have the patience for all the cryptic crap.

"So?" He asked. "We going there or what?"

To his dark amusement, Raith actually looked displeased. Gray wondered if it was because the question got right to the point while everyone else seemed content to dither about like a bunch of old women. 

"Yes, we're going to Shann Tei." Raith frowned slightly. "There is a plan, however, that each of you will need to follow. Once things are set in motion, we'll be unable to pull back. By my calculations, we'll only have once chance. If it fails, then..."

"Things get messy," Syk said pleasantly. He wore a smile like one might a hat – an accessory tacked on to complete the outfit. It was very creepy and Gray was certain that the medic was doing it on purpose.

Lante gave a slow nod. "Then let's hear it."

***

They flew just beneath the low-hanging clouds, arranged in a loose formation. Well, Gray, Lante and Driskal flew. Beneath them, a military truck carried Syk and Raith with Maji Ra behind the wheel. Their injuries prevented them from taking flight, which Gray thought was rather convenient.

Why couldn't he have gotten the cushy job of driving the truck? He knew how, even though he never actually got his license. Apparently napping through class meant a fail, and he'd never bothered to try again. What was the point?

Wind howled past, almost drowning out the distinctive whine of their boosters. Mist struck Gray's helmet and streaked sideways across the visor. If it weren't for the insulated water-resistant material of his suit, he would have been soaked to the bone.

He glowered at the truck below, though it wasn't the less-than-stellar flying conditions that bothered him; it was the plan. Officially, they were merely going to investigate the ruins of Shann Tei on suspicion of lingering rebel activity. At least, that was how it was going down on paper. Very polite, neat and tidy, and all that jazz. In reality, they were going to do the exact opposite.

There was a reason Lante was part of the team, after all.

This ain't gonna end well. Gray scowled within his helmet.

It was true that blowing things up and taking down whoever poked their heads out would probably flush out the rebels – Jett included, since the brat was too dumb to know when to hide – but there was a lot that could, and most definitely would, go wrong.

Not that Raith nor Syk cared. Collateral damage, both human or structural, meant next to nothing. It was all a distraction to hide the true goal of their visit here. A goal which Gray would very much prefer not to think about.

Instead, he wondered how a certain smug Talon would deal with this. He could hear that annoying voice, perfectly smooth and relaxed like it was just a normal conversation.

"So... it's been a while. How's things?"

Yeah, Gray regretted not punching that irritating face a second time. Raven's death had left a whirlwind of chaos, and it was just like him to pretend to not even notice it.

How's things, huh? He bared his teeth, a savage light glinting in his eyes. Ask me that after we've wrecked your precious hide-out.

It wasn't a second punch, but it would be just as satisfying - if not excessive (but who cared about that, anyway? They had bigger problems to deal with.)

The communicator crackled with a short burst of static. It was followed by Raith's calm voice. "Two miles out. Let me know when you have eyes on the city."

"Roger." Only Lante acknowledged it.

The day was damp and cold, with a haze of moisture in the air. That meant visibility wasn't great, and by the time Lante reported that they could see the city, they were practically on top of it. Maji Ra parked the truck on the outskirts, as they wouldn't be able to get too far into Shann Tei with it. Plus, it'd attract more attention than a couple of flyers on foot.

From above, the place looked awful. A clear path of wreckage marked the path of the war machines, darkened by smoke and scorched by fire. Roadways had collapsed due to all the old underground infrastructure, creating crumbling pits that filled with stagnant water. Blackened shells of buildings showed how far the fires had spread – which, Gray noted darkly, was very far. He suspected that the escaped Forbidden residents had a hand in that.

Shann Tei hadn't been the largest city on the continent, but it was compact and tightly interconnected. Once its main streets had been pounded to smithereens by war machines, it had become helpless, a sitting duck. Many buildings and smaller roads remained intact, but what good were they when the heart of the city itself was gone? Those who stubbornly remained were as much a ruin as the shell of a city that housed them.

Gray looked at it all and sobered, his lips pressed into a grim line. This, he thought, was a true image of what Troit did to all it touched. They may not have sent the war machines themselves, but they might as well have – this was the result of their grasping, power-hungry fingers.

"Spread out," Raith told them. "Gray to the east, Driskal west, and Lante south. Report any movement."

"Roger." Lante peeled off from the group, while Gray banked slowly in the direction indicated.

A heavy silence hung over the city, a sorrowful stillness that clung to its broken remains. He could feel it pressing against him even though the wind howled and buffeted him, as if enraged at his intrusion. This place was a graveyard and he didn't belong.

Was that why Raven had chosen this place? It wasn't welcoming in the slightest.

Gray glided over the Forbidden Zone, passing the crumbling wall that had once separated it from the rest of the city. It was like discovering the city dump, for there was such a marked difference between the two, from organization to chaos, from careful structuring to messy disaster, and from crisp wealth to scraps of poverty.

Truly, it was the shining achievement of Troit. They thought they could hide their undesirables behind a wall, secluded and forgotten until the day the walls began to crumble. Now those undesirables had spread out, no doubt infiltrating the land like cockroaches.

He smiled tightly within his helmet. How very fitting.

A flash of white on a still-standing section of Wall caught his eye. It was quite a distance away, and he probably wouldn't have noticed if it weren't so bright. Gray angled towards it, boosters humming on his back.

Once he drew closer, his jaw nearly unhinged itself. You've got to be kidding me.

"Hey," he activated the communicator in his helmet. "I found the kid."

"Where?" Raith's reply was instant.

"East side." Gray purposefully kept it vague. "I'm going to talk to him."

Lante's voice cut in sharply. "Gray, you can't–"

"Fine," Raith interrupted. "He's familiar with you. See if you can't get him to talk. We'll head your way."

"This is a bad idea," Lante protested. "I've also worked with him-"

"Gray will handle it."

Gray snorted. The vote of confidence was amusing, though he knew Raith had an ulterior motive. It was true that Lante knew Jett fairly well – he'd stepped in to finish the kid's training after Raven vanished. And frankly, Lante would probably be better received, considering the last time Gray had seen Jett, he'd nearly killed the kid.

Still, he didn't hesitate in approaching the Wall and the white figure that stood upon it. He swooped down, flaring wings and cutting off the boosters. He landed hard, the impact shuddering through his knees and ankles, but he didn't care.

His attention focused on the kid who stood straight and calm, watching him with a guarded expression. Reaching up, Gray deactivated his helmet, letting it slide into its compact form within the collar of his suit.

Then he stared, because the young man standing before him didn't match the flighty kid he knew. The suit was the same white monstrosity, the hair and eyes were the same pitch black, but that was the only similarities he could recognize.

"Hello, Gray," the kid said softly, and wasn't that a kick to the guts, because it was the exact same thing Raven had said. It lacked the humor but the calmness was there, as if there wasn't anything wrong with this moment, as if the world wasn't about to go up in a mountain of fire and ash. It was like staring at Raven again, but not quite, because that face, that unsettling straight-forward intensity of those dark eyes – was like looking to the face of Ra'Skevvor.

Who was this kid?

Gray leaned back, sucking air through clenched teeth. His fingers twitched violently, his jaw clenching tight, and he just barely avoided punching the kids face in. It wouldn't have been productive.

"Jett." He managed to get the word out. Then because he didn't know what else to say, he asked, "How's things?"

That brought a sort of half smile to Jett's face, but it never got further than that. There was something wrong with his eyes, Gray thought. They weren't as bright as they used to be. They shone with a focused sort of intensity, but there was no joy to them, no spark. Gray stared, not sure how to process this realization, other than the fact that he didn't like it.

"Could be better," Jett shrugged. "Could be worse too, I guess."

"Right." Gray couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this uncomfortable with mere conversation. He dragged a gloved hand through sweat-damp hair. "I'm ah, I'm sorry for last time. I didn't know–"

Jett cut him off with a small shake of the head. "It's fine. I understand why you came after me."

"Still. I hope I didn't do too much damage."

"Some bruises and a cracked rib." Jett offered a tiny smile, though even Gray could tell it was forced. "It wasn't too bad."

That was a bit hard to believe. Gray hadn't been pulling his punches much. Just enough to avoid completely shattering bone upon impact, but he'd been angry enough to want to hurt someone. If a cracked rib was all, then it must have been a miracle.

His jaw ached, and he had to force himself to relax, to let some of the tension go. "Why did the Kairg come after you?"

Jett's eyebrows shot up, as if surprised by the question. "You don't know? I thought... I thought everyone knew by now."

Everyone practically did. And if they didn't, it was staring them in the face every time they looked at the kid. Now, more than ever. The resemblance was uncanny, and it was hard to keep his anger and unease out of his expression. "Yeah, I know the Ra-bastard is your father, kid. What I don't get is why he wants you. He never cared about anything before. Pretty sure he doesn't even have a – uh, you all right there?"

Nearly all the color had drained out of Jett's face, and he'd wrapped his arms about himself. The look on his face went so far past haunted it nearly frightened Gray.

"Jett?"

Dark eyes flashed to his, all Gray could see was shattered pieces. Then Jett dropped his ey, took in a very large, very shaky breath. "S-sorry. There's some things... I can't talk about yet. He – he's one of them." The arms trembled, tightened, and for absurd moment, Gray had the odd notion that the kid needed a hug.

Yeah, that was ridiculous. Gray didn't do hugs. Ever.

"Okay," he muttered, searching for something to talk about. This was turning out to be a lot more difficult than he imagined it would be. Well, might as well get to the point of the matter, then.

Very carefully, making sure Jett followed the motion, he raised a finger and carefully pressed it against his lips. An uncertain frown settled upon the kid's face, but Gray figured Jett would catch on quick. Or at least, he hoped he did. Because he was pretty sure Raith and other were somehow listening in, and he didn't want to give them too much to chew on.

"So," he said. "We know there's a rebel leading hiding out here."

Jett stared at him. Some of the tension in his frame faded instantly – this was a safe topic, then. He nodded slowly.

"Right. And I'm guessing you're hanging out with him now like some kind of mooch."

The stare sharpened, bordering on something like a glare, but Jett still remained silent. Maybe he was taking Gray's warning very literally? Gray almost smiled. That was more like the Jett he knew. Stupid brat.

"Well, since that's the case, I hope you realize how incredibly dumb that is. For both of you. Did you think hiding out here was going to work?"

"It's worked so far." Jett retorted. "It took you long enough to find us."

Took us long enough...? Cheeky brat. "I see. You wanted us to find you."

Jett shrugged.

Gray bared his teeth in an annoyed not-smile. He wondered what Raven was trying to do here. "Why? What are you planning?"

Jett shrugged again, but suddenly, most of the haunted look returned to his expression. And with that, Gray suddenly understood. His stomach dropped, and a wave of cold horror crashed over him. He swallowed once, afraid his voice would quit working, then very quiet said, "I see."

Dark eyes flitted his way, questioning despite the awful cacophony screaming from their depths. Gray shivered, looking away, unable to take it. The person before him truly wasn't the stubborn brat he'd known before.

Someone had taken him, broken him, and then torn those pieces into shreds. And he had a very good idea of who. His hands clenched, a dark anger building out of the glowing coals. He let it build, let it simmer, because he'd just gained another reason to kill a monster.

"How long?" Gray asked.

"If you're here..." Jett shifted uneasily. "Then probably not long."

"Right." Not long. What a terrifying, exhilarating thought that was. "Does your ah, rebel leader have a plan?"

Jett gazed blankly at the section of wall that sat between them. A strange, eerie sort of smile peeked through. It gave Gray the chills. "Yes."

"I don't suppose you're going to share, are you?" Even Gray knew that was unlikely, but he felt the urge to ask anyway.

To his surprise, Jett looked up, weird smile still in place. "You're part of the plan. And so are the flyers who came with you."

That didn't surprise Gray. He more or less expected it the moment he saw Jett waiting for him on the Wall. "And you?"

Jett tilted his head, his gaze disturbingly sharp. It was a very Ravenlike gesture, which Gray thought to be rather creepy. "I'm just the bait."

"Just the bait?" Gray didn't like the sound of that, especially in that kind of tone. And he was pretty sure Raven wouldn't either. Something wasn't quite right in the kid's head. He wondered what Raven thought about it, and how he would deal with it. Killing the enemy was simple matter, but trying to fix a broken mind was a million times harder.

For once, he didn't envy the Talon.

Jett said nothing. Instead, he shifted, looking out at the nearby buildings. "You better tell them to get ready. I – I need to go."

With four quick steps, he went to the edge of the wall on the Forbidden side, and hopped off. Gray made no move to stop him. Instead, he listened as the kid landed on an aluminum roof, the metal warping beneath his weight, before the distant scuff of boots against concrete followed. Then there was nothing.

Only then, did Gray turn away. He dragged a hand down his face, feeling the world's weight bear down on his shoulders. The communicator crackled.

"Most impressive."

Gray's expression darkened. "What, Syk?"

"The boy is remarkably resilient. I hadn't expected that he'd be so... coherent."

It took real effort to keep the growl from escaping. As it was, if the medic had been within reach, Gray wouldn't have hesitated to punch him. The bastard knew something. How or what, exactly, Gray wasn't sure, but that was what his gut was telling him. The man knew what was wrong with Jett. And boy, wasn't that a particularly disturbing revelation.

Gray stood alone on the Wall, and for the first time in a long while, he felt helpless. The kid was broken, Ra'Skevvor was wrecking the world, Raven was alive (and hadn't bothered to tell him until a short while ago), and Troit was playing their dirty games like usual. So much was going on, and what had he done?

Nothing.

What was he even doing now?

Standing on the Wall, alone and useless.

It fanned the burning coals within, and the flickers of rage shot up into roaring flames. It seared through him, a lance of white-hot fury that left only a scattering of ash behind. For a moment, Gray stood motionless, fists held taut at his sides, lips peeled back into a snarl, and let it wash over him.

And then he pushed it all back inside his skin, relaxing his fingers, his shoulders, smoothing out his expression, and allowing a neutral mask of indifference to settle over his features. He lifted a hand and activated his helmet. It slid over his head and covered his face.

With a single step, he leapt lightly off the Wall. A moment later, the whine of his boosters cut in and soared up into the misty skies.

"So," Lante asked, "what did you find out?"

The choked laugh broke free before Gray could smother it. And then another, and it was all he could do to keep his flight stable as terrible, shuddering sounds tore through him.

He didn't answer.