Mr. Shotuku eyed Gretta up and down, surveying her petite, feminine form through the folds of his wrinkled eyes. His eyes darted back down when she looked his way and he wiggled his nose a little, trying to resolve an itch. The elderly man reordered the cards in his hand, trying to decide which way they should go.

An ace of spades was laid down in the centre of the table by Rick, who glanced sidelong at Gretta to his left. She gave out a sigh before placing a queen of spades down and then crossed her arms in frustration. She looked down at the seven-six score in favour of Rick and Mr. Toriyama and groaned a little.

Mr. Toriyama was next, shifting his eyes behind their glasses and trying to get a read on Shotuku. "The trick is mine Shiro," Rick stated, nodding at his partner. In response, Mr. Toriyama lay down the ten of hearts onto the table and gestured towards Mr. Shotuku.

The oldest man at the table didn't think long before laying down the nine of diamonds on top of the pile, before sweeping the four cards in towards himself. "Diamonds is trump. That was far too easy."

The bespectacled teacher threw his cards down on the table in frustration and lifted his hands high to the heavens. "He always does that Rick! How many times will you keep telling me the trick is yours when Shotuku still has to play?!"

"That's table talk for the record boys," Greta interjected before being shot a dirty look by the professor that immediately silenced her.

"It isn't always about winning," Rick replied calmly, sifting through his hand. "Sometimes it is just about fun."

"Listen you," Toriyama said, standing up and reaching across the table to grab at the Circuit Breaker. "It's not fun when you're losing, especially in a game where clothing is on the line!" Rick and Toriyama both looked down at their nearly-naked forms, each one only wearing their underpants. Both Gretta and Shotuku were still fully dressed, with heaps of clothing sitting around them. "I can't go home to Sakura looking like this! She'll eat me alive and you know it."

"Not to mention if the students saw you," Shotuku quietly added as he picked out which card he would play first. Mr. Toriyama threw another dirty look around the table, this time directing it at Shotuku and then he hastily took his seat when he realized he was in full view of poor Gretta.

The young girl sighed, placing her elbows on the table and resting her face in her hands. "This place really isn't the same since they left is it? It's so boring here, so quiet." The rest of the table shook their heads in response as cards started to be played once again. "Do you think they found him yet sir?"

"Oh they did that quite a while ago Gretta." Shotuku swept another won trick of cards in close to himself as he reassured the girl. "But there were more challenges to the mission than simply finding the general. They have an ordeal to overcome first, provided they have enough strength to do it."

"We lose more students this way when you send them on your insane missions Akio," Toriyama sighed, throwing his hand down on the table in surrender and leaning back wistfully in his chair, fixing his glasses so they stayed on his face. His pale, thin frame reflected the lights above off his chest. "But that group seems different than the last few don't they?"

"Indeed." Shotuku began shuffling all the cards together again, and then he tucked the deck away in the folds of his robe.

"I mean this one actually won me a bowling match!" Mr. Toriyama nearly leapt out of his seat in excitement (former school record 0-21 in bowling matches all times) and began to retell the story of how the CRU had triumphantly defeated Ms. Sakura for the hundredth time.

Gretta buried her head in her arms as they lay across the table. "So boring here..."

* * * * *

Porter deflected another stab from Sigmeund's lance, this one narrowly redirecting past the face of the White Storm. He rolled to the side, kicking up and trying to strike the ribs of the Silver Hawk with his speed but Sigmeund was already twisting and spinning out of the way. Porter quickly flipped himself back to his feet, teetering for a moment as he regained his balance. He was starting to feel woozy from the extended use of his chi but this is what he had trained for.

In fact, Mr. Shotuku had made a case of Porter overextending himself to build up his stamina in the event that he would have to be in a sustained battle like this It was one thing for the teenager to have an explosion of emotions and quickly finish off an opponent but if the enemy was talented enough to keep up he needed more than just a burst.

Sigmeund was that talent. He was more than it really, even with his rushed fighting style. Doubt was creeping into Porter's mind, doubt he had never had before at any point during the battle. It was starting to disturb the perfect pool of focus, sending ripples through it until the waters became rough and choppy, breaking apart and shattering the heightened state Porter had entered.

The Artisan suddenly swung his lance sideways, like a bat, catching Porter off-guard and knocking him sideways. The young pilot only just managed to keep himself from falling over, using one of his swords as an extra leg. The doubt was gone. The focus was back. This was a fight Porter simply refused to lose.

"You really just won't quit will you?" Sigmeund eyed his embattled foe, surveying the damage it had sustained. The two had been fighting for quite some time now, exchanging blows far longer than the general had anticipated. This child was quite unique, quite special. He wasn't anything like his comrades, containing something else inside of him that Sigmeund had never gotten a chance to see up close.

Of course, over time you would hear about these sorts of warriors, of these heroes among a nation's army with the capacity to defeat anyone they ever came across, and the energy to level a city. There had been a time when Sigmeund had been jealous of them, of all of those who had had such powers and used them capriciously without thinking about those who could not do the same. But that era in the Artisan's life had gone away, had faded to nothingness once he found himself surpassing all of them on the grounds of his technical prowess.

He had levelled the playing field, brought about the end of their reign over him. And yet he felt no better for having done so. He could look down upon those he defeated and could only feel pity that they had been given such gifts and had ignored their basic training because of it. And he thought of all the other soldiers in the army, the ones who would never be given the opportunity to train like Sigmeund had, who all could have reached the heights he did with the proper experience. It was a cruel system, and Sigmeund didn't want to inject any jealousy or negativity into it any more.

This fighter though, this Enian, gave him a new feeling. It was a rush, it was exhilarating, to face someone so raw and untalented, yet who could draw out these immense levels of energy that held Sigmeund in check. Without his chi, this enemy surely would have been dead ages ago, and probably would have never been deemed fit to even drive a Goliath. Interesting how fat worked that way. Sigmeund wondered who it could have been who even noticed what this child had inside them when they found them.

Porter lashed out with his blades, chopping through air as he tried to keep up with Sigmeund's footwork. The White Storm continued to accelerate, crackling with electricity and emitting a blue hue as the swords started to move faster and faster, until the White Storm had almost completely vanished, its image flickering for only a moment here and there.

Sigmeund was slowing down over time. He too was getting tired, though his exhaustion was brought on from having to pilot at such a high-level, not necessarily a drain on his life force. The Silver Hawk had sustained more damage to it than it had in the last twenty years. Not even the battle with Ochenkov had done this much to it, nor the countless wars it had been engaged in. This was truly exciting.

The Crisis Rescue Unit watched in silent awe at the combat that was still going and still unfolding. The fact that Porter was still up and standing against a high-ranking general such as Sigmeund was astonishing, especially since he still technically had a chance of winning. Either way, the mission was a success. Ochenkov had been found, and enough time had been given for Sigma and Alpha to be awakened. But still, this was an unbelievable spectacle.

"Won't Porter die soon though?" Nami asked, almost innocently at first, as though this simple thought had just kind of struck her as a side note. Everyone turned to look at Ardwen, who had been closely monitoring the output of the teenager during the fight.

"I...I really don't know." The captain shook his head in disbelief at the numbers he was watching go by. "Every bit of information I have about Porter's chi points to him having died at least ten minutes ago, if not earlier, but he just keeps on going."

"What about the White Storm?" Raul added, concerned that the Goliath might not last as long as the pilot.

"We know almost nothing about the White Storm as a Goliath," Ardwen answered. "Remember, it's a very old model and exceptionally unique. It's not military sanctioned and it has never had a chance to be fully analyzed so who knows really. Maybe it can just go on infinitely or maybe it falls apart with one more strike. It's a mystery."

"Just like Porter," Riya whispered, but loud enough for everyone to hear, much to her shock. Her face flushed red and she turned away from everyone out of embarrassment, not wanting to feel their looks burning into her.

"So we don't know what will happen then?" Chase said, suddenly showing some mild concern over someone he used to consider an easy target for bullying. Now what was he? A rival? A friend even?

A slash cleaved through the armour on the Silver Hawk's chest, slicing open the metal to reveal circuits and hydraulic tubes. There was a hiss of steam as the hot moist air from the interior of the Goliath sprung out into the frigid temperatures, turning it into a dense mist. Sigmeund stumbled back, shocked to have taken such a large blow from the inexperienced warrior.

Then the Artisan saw it though, the opening he had been waiting for. The White Storm's path was revealed to him in that instant; where it would be and where it was going, and he would be there to finish it off. A shame to have it end this way but it was the only way.

The lance jabbed forwards, straight outwards into the space in front of Sigmeund, right where Porter appeared, hovering just above the ground as he finished the motion of the slash. The lance stabbed straight through the chest, piercing the cockpit and bursting out the back out of the White Storm.

Riya heard the gasps of the group as they took in a collective breath at the sight. Hesitantly, she turned to look over her shoulder at Porter, suspended in the air by his opponent's weapon. But something was off about it all. The lance went through, that was true, but it didn't look like it had broken anything along the way. Almost like...

"An afterimage!" Riya shouted in excitement. "He's alive!"

"But I caught most of him," Sigmeund said, surprising everyone as they had no clue he had been listening in on their conversations. He had only recently finally figured out the frequency of their channel and broken its encryption. That was what happened when you spent so long in one place. "He's crafty, very talented. That was an amazing move to save himself and only someone with that much chi could have moved that fast."

Porter appeared a little further back, clutching his left side. He moved his hand to reveal where the lance had cut through his armour and broken straight through, removing that chunk of his Goliath around his abdomen. It wasn't critical damage though. There was certainly fluid spilling out from the various leaks and a couple of wires were damaged but the minor repair systems installed in all battlesuits were already kicking in to seal up the holes.

"I told you already that I will not lose here. You will be the one who dies at my hands." Porter's voice came out in heaves, becoming raspy as his energy quickly drained out of his body. But there was still a strong conviction lying within his words. He would still fight.

"Then I will have to show you the error of your ways," came Sigmeund's response, "lest I sustain even more damage. You might actually win were that to happen." It was the Silver Hawk's turn to become a blur, its edges seeming to fade into the surroundings, making onlookers question where the warmachine ended and the background began. Sigmeund sprinted forward, a trail of his movements following behind him in a chain.

He was upon Porter faster than the pilot could react, his shield raised up and then smashing down on the Enian's head. The White Storm's face snapped downwards, then shot up again as Sigmeund grabbed the Goliath's shoulders and drove his knee up into its chest, lifting the two off the ground for a second.

Before Porter touched the ground though, Sigmeund had grabbed him by the throat, having dropped his lance beside him, and slammed his body down into the ground. The Artisan continued his flow of moves, looking as though it were a dance or an exercise routine that transferred easily from one stage to the next. He rolled over Porter, grabbing the sides of the White Storm as he did and then flipping it over his head and back down onto the ground in a suplex move.

Sigmeund retrieved his lance as Porter lay on the ground, barely moving as he recovered from the barrage of attacks he had received, shaken up within his cockpit as his machine screamed at him with various damage reports. The Silver Hawk general stood above his prey, weapon pointed down at his enemy's face, ready for the finishing strike.

Chase, Nami, and Riya all rushed forward to help Porter, but were stopped by Raul and Ardwen, held back from assisting. "Wait," they both stated in unison, one knowing to have patience because of his experience and the other knowing from the data he had been observing.

"It was a valiant effort Porter," Sigmeund said, his voice filled with genuine remorse at having to kill such a worthy adversary. "You have inspired me to look towards the future with bright hopes. One day there will be another like you and I wish to be able to guide them rather than slaughter them. But you are not that person. You're on the wrong team right now."

The Artisan drove the lance down at the White Storm's face. Riya and Nami covered their eyes in their cockpits, scrambling to turn off the viewscreens to the outside world. They didn't want to hear the sound of the metal being ripped apart, of Porter being disabled before the kill.

But there was nothing. Riya hesitantly opened an eye to look at the battle. "Holy Ishiyama!" Chase exclaimed, and Ardwen and Raul echoed the sentiment. There was Porter, lying on his back, nearly completely immobilized, with his hand in front of his face clutching the point of the lance, struggling to keep it from destroying his Goliath's central processor.

"What's this now?" Sigmeund chuckled, not really asking a question but instead accepting that this sort of action was inevitable, given what the young boy had been doing this entire time. "You can still move I see."

"You're going to die Sigmeund," Porter grunted as he strained at the controls. "And I will be the cause of that." The lance wavered in front of Porter, slowly drawing closer until it was just an inch from the Enian Goliath's face.

Then came the crack, the snapping sound as Porter tore off the end of the weapon, sending the new blunt end into his shoulder, crushing some of the movement apparatuses within the unit but otherwise doing minimal damage.

Porter kicked up, knocking a smiling Sigmeund back before the White Storm flipped up onto its feet. There was a roll of thunder up above before a bolt of lightning shot down into the snow next to Porter. The teen stood still for a moment, breathing in new life. "You had your shot. Now it's my turn."

Another bolt shot down, this one striking the Enian Goliath directly, reenergizing it. A blue orb of static charge built up around the White Storm before it charged forward. Sigmeund threw up his shield but had it quickly knocked aside as Porter drew too close. The lance was next, the hand holding it getting chopped off by a quick downwards strike.

A kick to the chest threw the Silver Hawk stumbling back, then Porter drew in again, this time delivering a kick straight up that sent the Artisan flying. The White Storm followed its foe into the sky, holding its twin blades in front of its face before lashing out in a cross slash across the Silver Hawk's chest.

Sigmeund managed to get his arms up in time to absorb most of the blow, and the twin swords clashed against his armour, grinding through it and sending sparks flying as the two hurtled downwards towards the ground. Finally, the Artisan managed to push Porter back, knocking the blades out of Porter's hands and gaining separation. He flipped around to land hard on his feet, with Porter doing the same a short distance away.

The two stared each other down for a moment. Porter's two weapons landed beside the White Storm, sticking straight up out of the ground on either side, begging to be gripped once more. But it couldn't be done. The White Storm teetered for a moment before crashing to its knees, its energy expended and its damage too great.

Before anyone could say anything, the Silver Hawk did the same, falling to its knees and sending up a plume of snow around it, which showered down on its broken chassis. There was silence in the mountains as the battle, finally, was over.

"He won?

"Who won?"

"What happened?"

"It's...it's a draw," Raul announced, amazed that Porter could have stood up to a general.

"Indeed, it is a draw, but in that case it is also a victory for this young man," Sigmund conceded from within his suit. While it couldn't move anymore, the communication system was still mostly operational. A dark ship flew by overhead, slowing down and then spiralling into a descent above Sigmeund. It lacked any Artisan symbols on it, simply having its black colouration. "I am honoured to have fought against such an adversary. I look forward to seeing what he can do in the future though."

With that, the bottom of the shuttle opened up and a series of hooks on chains descended, latching on to the Silver Hawk and lifting it up off the ground, carrying it away through the mountains into the distance.

From within The White Storm came the very distinct sound of Porter snoring, having fallen fast asleep after expending the majority of his chi. And everyone else laughed in nervous relief.

* * * * *

The dozing Porter was propped up against one of the machines inside Roth's cave, his face turned to watch everyone talking, even though he couldn't hear them in his catatonic state. Were he awake he would have seen Alpha standing in front of her empty vat, eyes open and alert, taking in the sights around her.

Beside her stood Sigma, a tiny smile sometimes creeping onto his face every so often then vanishing again. Dr. Roth was sheepishly behind the two cyborgs, ashamed to be in the presence of his daughter after what he had done to her, but since neither Sigma nor Alpha had killed him yet, he was starting to feel progressively safer.

Ochenkov was no longer mediating, having joined with the Crisis Rescue Unit after having the situation explained to him regarding Shotuku's mission. They were not picking him up on behalf of the Enian Federation but as one foolish old man's students and the barbarian had agreed to return with them.

"It was nice to meet all of you," Sigma said, sweeping his hand over the group. "I have to thank you all, not just for helping me to restore Allyson, but for also looking after my brother." Sigma glanced over at the sleeping Porter. "I know I did some terrible things in the past when I left my family and it's made life difficult for him. I'm sorry he hasn't had a family because of me but I made my life choices and must stay true to them."

"Why don't you come back to the academy with us?" Nami pleaded, her naïve, childish outlook not grasping the weight of Sigma's situation.

The android shook his head, a look of sadness crossing his face. "I have to take care of Allyson for the next while, to help rehabilitate her and make sure she does not become corrupted by those who would seek to abuse her. The doctor and I will be trying to find a new place to hide while we work on her and on restoring all of my memories."

Sigma's eyes passed over the depressed faces of the students. "I'm sorry but I don't wish to be part of any wars here or to be used as someone's weapon. I just want to live with her again, and to have peace."

"But your brother!" Nami cried, helplessly banging her fists against the android's chest. He did nothing to stop this, continuing as if she weren't there.

"Tell him not to seek me out. I do not want him endangering his life just to search for someone he thought was dead. It would be better if he returned to the way things were before he knew I existed rather than always chasing after me. Don't worry though. When the time is right, I will find him once again, that I can promise."

A couple of lights flashed on the nearby computer screens, halting the conversation. "It seems your ride is here," Dr. Roth stated, nodding towards the elevator stone in the middle of the room. He directed the teenagers towards it, along with Ochenkov.

Sigma strode over to his brother and gently lifted him of the ground. "Don't worry little brother," he said, a faint sadness in his voice. "I will always protect you. I love you." A tear fell down onto Porter's cheek, sliding off the face as Sigma moved. The android wiped away the moisture from his eye, wondering how his body had been able to do such a thing. His chest hurt as he placed Porter in the hands of the burly Ochenkov and watched the group rise up and out of sight.

Confused, Allyson wandered over to his side and grabbed Sigma's hand, trying to comprehend the situation. "He was...friend?" She struggled to understand the feelings that she did not have, her human memories having been erased.

"Yes Allyson," Sigma said as he turned to comfort her. "A very special one..."

* * * * *

The Crisis Rescue Unit watched as their Goliaths were loaded onto a couple of ships and then taken away into space. They would be waiting to meet them in the hangars, once repairs were finished and touch-ups completed.

Exhausted, they boarded onto their personal shuttle, the door to their seats sliding open with a familiar hiss. Inside was one Mr. Shotuku, tapping his foot and holding a black slipped in each hand.

This would be a very long flight home.

A/N: I very nearly cried writing this chapter. I have a brother. He has been critically ill three times now in his young life but he is still around and I will love him forever. He is my editor and the best brother anyone could have. I dedicate this all to him.

Thank you for reading guys. I hope you found this chapter as special as I did. And make sure you vote for your favourite characters at sigmastarmanga.com. We need more votes in!