He awoke just as he slept; with a question in his mind. It would've been nice to perhaps think about the fact she's asleep next to him right now.

  It would've been nice to maybe think about what he fights for.

  The Sun. The truth. Reality. Happiness.

  But no, instead, the question lingers like a blood clot.

  “Who is the Archliege?”

  As he gains lucidity, he realizes it was her alarm that woke him up. He leans over and turns it off, the murky light from the rest of the hangar leaking through into the room. He looks beside her, a damp spot in the pillow from Amy’s drool. She slept looking towards him. That's nice, he thinks.

  Finally, true lucidity hits like a train; they're exposed. They're almost defenseless. And things still need to be done. And so, he tries to wake her up.

  “Amy? Amy? Wake up.”

  “Hmmm?” She grumbles as she becomes awake. She does her usual contortions and stretches as she becomes lucid.

  “Mmmm, oh that's right… Hey John. I had a dream about you.”

  She murmurs as she opens her eyes. John would be happy hear about if he allow himself to.

  “That's cool Amy, but it's go time. You've gotta get up. We could be attacked any moment.”

  “Oh fuckkkkk…” Amy whines into her pillow. She breathes in and kicks herself up. John gets out of bed with her following not far behind. John throws his coat on and stands by the door with his hand on the latch.

  But just as Amy is about to get up, she catches something in the corner of her eye. It seems to freeze her in place. John looks over to the corner she looks at, but sees nothing major.

  “Amy what are you doing?”

  Amy keeps looking at the corner, unconfident.

  “I usually only see you when I'm tired…” She says quietly.

  “What?!” John asks as he looks again to the corner.

  Amy gives him a quick glance them looks back.

  “Uhh, John… do you remember way back at the… like… at that transit station?”

  “The one with Que?” He asks.

  “Yes. That one. Remember that guy from in the corner?” She asks him back, her eyes locked on to this… invisible thing.

  “I remember not seeing one.” John replies with a little frustration.

  Her eyes stayed put, so whatever it is didn't move.

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head to break free from the gaze. She jumps up off the bed and before the door, John opening it, and the two circling out. Immediately they saw Lou sitting at the meeting table, planning something vast on the plane.

  “I'm sorry for that. I just haven't seen that thing in a while.” Amy says as they walk towards Lou.

  “What thing?” John asks quietly. Amy just brushes it off as they get Lou’s attention. “Ahh nevermind. Don't worry about it John.”

  As they got closer, Lou got another glimpse while writing. As he finishes a sentence he looks again, only now he puts the pen down and welcomes them. “John! Amy! Have you found out about whatever you were looking for?”

  “Nope.” Says John.

  “No.” Says Amy.

  Even having to think about it makes John more frustrated. Lou doesn't much seem to care as the two sit down and he goes back to writing.

  “Well, that sucks. On the bright side I have just made a web of good fortune. For you, John, I have good news. You have a meeting with Larry K just past midday.”

  “Oh shit.” John lets slip, surprised by the news.

  “Is he coming here? Don't tell me he's coming here?!”

  “Virtual meeting. In the virtual devices.”

  Lou corrects while providing more info.

  “Gilbert woke up around when I did. He and Gary are relocating the vehicles for if we need to escape right now. They have a Hell of a day ahead of them.”

  “We all do.” John assures, getting up to check the shit Lou is writing. It looked less like a web and more like a vomit of text. The type of thing John might find inside a paper within a house of leaves.

  Amy looks around the hangar from where she sits. She sees a few people out and about, most of whom are moving gas from the inside to the outside. Maybe it's for when they leave?

  “What are they moving the gas cans for?” Amy asks Lou.

  It seems to have struck a nerve.

  “Are you shitting me Amy? God, you two are the leaders and you're the most clueless of all of us.”

  John grabbed a handful of Lou's cargo pants as he stood above on a ladder. He wasn't gonna take that kinda speak directed at her.

  “Would you prefer to replace me Lou?” John warms. The scribbling man looks down to John and his warning.

  “Oh, I haven't already?” He replies. That really pissed John off. He lets go and moves back to collect Amy.

  “Come with me.” He asks her, which she gladly accepts after Lou's semi-justified dickheadishness.

  John extends his hand for her, though not our of any tenderness as far as he could tell.

  She takes it, and he leads her into the rain outside, the Neosun comfortably above the horizon by now. The wind was close to dead. The rain was unusually normal. Too normal for how it felt outside.

  Hopelessness replaced with dread.

  The call of search was replaced with the scream of the need to flee. That void from so long ago; old as time and only recently forgotten. That was now replaced with something even worse… doom.

  Not a fatalistic doom. Not even one that was existential.

  Raw, unfiltered, impending doom approaches.

  It is only a matter of time before judgment comes.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Lighting rips across the sky like a pulsar and the fabric of time. The flashes of fake weather, older brother to the fake Neosun.

  John saw Gilbert far in the distance, near one of the other hangars opposite the main one. He ran after him, Amy struggling to follow him from behind. The rain pelted. The sky roared.

  And, as Amy looked to his right, the Neosun looked back in divine, corporate judgment. The further it rose, the more it condemned them.

  And so all Amy can be is ignorant to it as she approaches Gilbert with John— slowing down. Ignorance— exactly what those in power want.

  Yet as John speaks over the weather, he is not so ignorant

  “Gilbert. Fill me in on the plan.”

  Gilbert is drenched and puffing. It looks like he's been through Hell, and it's only just the morning. “The plan? Easy. We abandon the hangar, make it look like all the rest. We set up traps around the entrance and around the field. We post scouts up to warn if anyone is coming, and once we know they are, we take defensive positions. They'll be a vehicle for each so we can retreat.”

  “It's gonna have to work.” Comments John, a thunder bolt interrupting his sentence. The wind comes in waves. One second it'll be a hurricane, the next it's a whisper. “Where's Gary?” John asks.

  “Moving the vehicles to the positions. After that he'll be looking for you.” Gilbert informs, pointing to a silhouette far behind running towards where the vehicles are kept, just beside the huge open door. John gives Gilbert a tap on the shoulder. “Say no more. I’m all ears if you need anything.”

  He rushes back to Amy who stood a couple meters away passively. He leans down to her, both their faces soaked.

  “Amy. The Archliege can wait under after this is over.”

  “What if we die here?” She asks tragically. But it doesn't shake John. It can't. As another bolt warns that they're ever closer, he replies.

  “We won't. I've said so before, and I've been right. Amy. What I need you to do is organize an escape plan. Do you got it?”

  “I… okay…” She replies, quietly panicking. As a means of calming herself, she asks him a question.

  “What ah— what are you gonna do John?”

  He puts his hand on her shoulder. Despite how cold it was, his touch was warm. And so was where he touched.

  “Me? I don't fucking know. Be a leader I guess. Get everyone together.” He lets her go and begins jogging towards the vehicles with a growing speed. As he parts, he's sure to tell her more clearly.

  “I'll be running around everyone to make sure we're okay. Send me a message if I'm required!” He yells from even farther away.

  She'd never seen him run like that. It was impressively fast. Though, he grew further away. And farther. And farther. She looks to her left now, and the Neosun rises higher. And higher. And higher.

  She turns away and finds herself faced with this dilapidated hangar that has been opposite them the whole time.

  Lightning strikes once again. One less until death arrives.

  “I'll uh… I guess I'll go in here and think of something…” She says to no one in particular. She wanders into an opening between the huge hangar doors. These ones seemed to open sideways where the other was vertical.

  Inside, what the rainfall loses in texture it makes ups for in aetherial presence. It is different, for the mix of rust holes, remaining roofs and internal pressure gradients ala the wind from a cacophony. And even it seems to judge the small, lonely, isolated Amy, who dares enter inside.

  Nothing can see her now. And even nothing seems to judge.

  She immersed herself within the center of the structure, the left side more ruined than the right. The defiant husks for trees can be seen through some of the holes of the interior. The winds whisper one second, then roar the next. And it is so dark. So dark she has to pull out her digiphone to turn on her flashlight.

  In doing so, an idea alights just as her phone does. Standing alone in the center of a dead war machine, she opens the app of something that seems to be less dead than her surroundings. Even if by perception more than anything.

  She types into the interface as misty dampness blows in her face.

  “Hello SERaMACs. Are you feeling okay since that thing yesterday?”

  She is lucky, as it seems the AI is generating a reply.

  It takes two seconds to answer her, using only text just as she does.

  “Unfortunately not, I am afraid. I think I understand what is happening. And I heard you and John last night talking about—”

  It pauses generation for a moment.

  “—something I can help you with. You wish to meet the Archliege?”

  Amy stares at the screen, tying in her reply while finding a better place to sit or stand. Somewhere more quiet or dry.

  “Thank you SERaMACs but not yet. We have a bigger problem right now. Gauth Van Hulsieg is probably gonna attack us any day now. I was hoping I could ask you for a favor?”

  As she sits down, she sends her prompt. As SERaMACs replies, she looks out the holes to see the tree husks waving. The wind is getting worst. So is the rain by the sounds.

  After a lifetime of rain, it would be liberating to not notice.

  But it isn't natural. Those tree's aren't natural.

  She's seen natural, and this isn't it.

  And it is only after she sees the response generating that SERaMACs added what she wrote to memory.

  “There is a slight error. Based upon what I can tell from Defense Enforcement Megacorp, an attack may be less than twenty four hours.”

  Her heart sinks. She wants to cry. But there's already enough tears from the sky. And so… she just sucks it up. It isn't nice. None of it is.

  She closes the app for a moment to text John about what might happen, after which she prompts SERaMACs.

  “I’ve told John thank you. I was hoping I could ask you a favor SERaMACs? Please?” She sends it, and it's response is near-instant.

  As lightning strikes, she reads it.

  “You have been very nice to me in the past, Amy. And you have continued to be nice to me in the present. I will help you as best as I can. What is your request?”

  Amy blurts out a response as fast as her fingers could type.

  The winds come and go. The rain continues to pelt.

  “Thank you so much SERaMACs. Is there any chance you would happen to know how we can escape this attack? Or any places we could go?”

  “Thinking.” The text says on the screen as SERaMACs make a response. Didn't that used to mean generating?

  Why is every little thing sticking out right now?

  She could never have hoped for, or expected a reply better than the one she had got.

  “I do. In fact, I can do even better. If you would like, I can arrange for airborne transportation to come pick you and John up. I can provide as much as you need. You just tell me where they want to go.”

  Amy squeaked once she got to the bottom of that response. She physically repulsed, but in a positive way.

  Her sudden happiness defied description.

  “YES!!!! THANKS YOUS SERAMACS!!! I'LL ASK THEM ALL AND TELL YOU!!!” She typed. And it responded instantly, yet again.

  “No need Amy. I have alerted everyone with a device at your base that I can access about what is about to happen. It is good to see you happy. Is there anything else I can help you with Amy?”

  “NO!! THANKS YOU SO MUCH SERAMACS!” She sends. And before it can reply, she cancels its response and adds on to her previous.

  “Oh! And yeah, what time do you think that transport will be here hopefully?”

  The machine takes a while to reply again. It must be sifting through what everyone is saying. “While I cannot give exact estimates, I believe they all arrive at the same thing, sometime this evening.”

  An inner warmness burns bright even if the rest of the world is cold. Amy could've glown enough by now to bring the hangar back to life. But she doesn't, and instead, tries to funnel some of that towards SERaMACs, even if it is just a machine.

  “Thank you SERaMACs. You've always been so kind. And please feel free to ask stuff of me too. If I could in anyway help you, I'll try my best!”

  She closes her digiphone, the only one smiling in the world. Or at least, she may as well have been. She runs out back into the cold, damp outside— seeing many people are running about on the tarmac. She doesn't know where she's going. On in the vague direction of light.

  And, while she didn't quite see it yet, SERaMACs responded to her warm reply.

  “Thank you Amy. I'll be keeping that in mind.”

  The weather roared. The thunder struck.

  And the Arch Legion prepared for the fight.