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Description
"They've entered the castle. Wanna run through those orders for me one more time, Boss?"
"Yrajia, I told you at least three times before!"
"You know how forgetful I am."
"Alright, alright. You've got the blueprints, so you know how to get in without setting off the alarms, right?
"I'm not that much of an idiot."
"That's debatable. Once you're in, take the Scythe, and get into a fight with the targets, if they're together. Let them beat you, but make it convincing. We don't want them getting suspicious. Also, take special care not to hurt the girl too badly."
"And… I'm supposed to give them the Scythe?"
"Yes."
"Well then, how in the hell are we supposed to get our hands on it?"
"One step at a time, my friend. One step at a time."
A heavy sigh, a pause, then:
"They've got the fruity one watching the car… tank… thing. Can I at least drop him?"
"No. Now get to work."
.   .   .

The halls of Azel were great and empty, and a sterile, oppressive scent hung in the air. The walls were decorated with many famous paintings--the owner of the castle had paid through the nose to purchase them. He was obviously very concerned with aesthetics, as everything was more ornate and elaborate than anything either Weiss or Penelope had seen in their lives. They had arrived earlier that morning, transported in a strange remotely controlled vehicle. It was long and plated with armor, with no windows. Now, they wandered the castle, climbing staircase after staircase, searching for the man who owned the place.
"Weiss, look at this!" called Penelope, staring at one particularly beautiful painting. It was a portrait of a woman with long, fine, black hair and a kind face. She seemed to stare directly at the viewer, and Penelope got a sense of comfort just by looking at it.
"What is it, Penelope?" Weiss stepped behind her.
"Isn't this..."
"Oh my God." He looked at the painting, and memories began to flood his mind. "It's Anemonae."
She looked slightly different, but Weiss could tell that it was her kind face staring at him. He couldn't say why, but he felt a great emptiness inside himself, a sadness that he couldn't get over.
Penelope put an arm on his shoulder. "You were close to her, weren't you?"
"No. No, I really wasn't. But... I feel like I've lost someone very close... Do you understand?"
She looked at him quizzically. "No, I don't think I do. Maybe you were closer than you think."
Weiss shook his head. "Come on, Penny. Let's go." He turned around and started to walk, running into someone in the process. He leapt back, but took a wrong step and fell to the floor. Looking up, he saw Zephyr standing above him, holding a hand out to help him up.
"Couldn't you have knocked or something? I mean, I'm a generous enough guy, but I've got to draw the line somewhere."
"W-we're very sorry," stammered Penelope as Zephyr helped Weiss to his feet. "We kind of assumed there wasn't anyone here."
"Assuming is a black habit, you know. What brings you here, Wakefield?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Zephyr!"
"Wait, you know each other?" Penelope glanced at the two of them. "Am I missing something?"
"Not really," Zephyr said with a chuckle. "We shared a montage once. Our mutual friend-" he pointed to the painting- "is really our closest connection. How is the old girl, anyway?"
Weiss looked to the floor. "She's gone. Samaiel-" He looked up, stunned, as Zephyr began to laugh.
"Don't look so down, kid. I promise, you'll see her again soon. She's got this weird habit of popping up when you least expect her… but that's neither here nor there. Tell me, what are you doing in my home?"
"Your home?" asked Weiss, surprised. "You're the-"
"Eccentric billionaire, yes. Spare me." Zephyr kept an expectant gaze on Weiss, but it was Penelope who jumped in with an answer.
"We're here per a request from Anemonae. She told us to retrieve the Scythe of Life, and we heard it was here."
"I see. And who are you, running errands for Annie?"
Something struck Penelope about the name, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "M-My name is Penelope," she said, struggling with her mild confusion. "Penelope Materas, sir."
Zephyr looked at her in disbelief. But after a moment, his shocked look turned into a wide grin.
"Well, I'll be damned! It is you, isn't it? And all grown up, too!" He spun around on one foot and started to walk down the hall, gesturing for the others to follow.
"Weiss Wakefield and Penelope Materas," he said after they had caught up, "Together at last! Hell, I was worried that the two of you would never hook up!"
There was a silence then, as neither Weiss nor Penelope responded. The boy glared at Zephyr, while Penelope stared at the floor, her face bright red.
"Hey now," Zephyr muttered, "Don't tell me you're not-"
"We're not," snapped Weiss.
"Jesus." Zephyr laughed uncomfortably. "I'm, like, the worst prophet ever, aren't I?" He brightened up slightly as they came to a large, ornate door."
"Hey, uh, here we are. The Scythe's in here, maybe we should just work something out and you can take it-"
Zephyr's heart lurched as he opened the door and saw an empty display case sitting in front of him.
"Oh, shit." He turned to Weiss and Penelope, his voice panicked, his words running into and stumbling over each other. "Someone got to it first. They must have snuck in when you came in… Nobody gets in without me knowing about it, they can't have escaped yet. You two, stay here and make sure nobody gets by! I've got to put the place on lockdown…" He continued to swear as he bolted down the corridor.

.   .   .

"We're not," muttered Penelope, breaking a long silence as she and Weiss stood watch by the door of the display room. "Of course we're not."
"Something wrong, Penny?"
She shook her head. "No, nothing. I just thought that, maybe, we'd gotten to the point where something like Zephyr's comment would give you a bit of pause, but I guess I was wrong."
Weiss sighed. "Come on, Penelope, you know I didn't mean anything-"
"Oh, I know. You can't mean anything when you don't think about what you're saying in the first place."
"Penelope… I'm sorry."
"Whatever. Forget about it, I shouldn't have said anything." Penelope turned to lean against the wall, and gasped at what she saw.
"That's cold," said the most terrifying person the girl had ever seen in her life. He towered above her, disturbingly muscular, with a shock of grimy, jet-black hair hanging from his head. His skin was scaly black-as if it had been completely burned and scarred over. He grinned at the teens with a mouthful of jagged teeth and yellow, piercing eyes.
Strapped to his back was the Scythe of Life.
"Hey there, kiddos." He patted the glowing weapon mockingly. "I heard a rumor going around that you wanted this. Well, let me tell you something: that's a big mistake. Because if you really wanted it, you'd have to get through me. And, y'know, I try not to murder children too  often, but exceptions have to be made once in a while. 'Least, that's what Cainra says, and I tend to listen to the uppity bastard."
Without quite realizing what she was doing, Penelope stepped forward with a grin. Confidence filled her, making her giddy and sending a charge of excitement through her body. She was sure they could win, though she was less sure about the origin of her sudden poise.
"That's strange," she said. "Because the only mistake I can see in taking that Scythe from you is that we might make your face more difficult to look at."
Yrajia growled at Penelope,  flooding her face with hot and damp breath. As he did so, Weiss got behind him and prepared to strike with the sword that the Alliance had issued him. Before he could bring the sword down on his foe's neck, a shadow emerged from the ground, stopping him and lifting him into the air by his own neck.
"Don't fucking try it," snarled Yrajia. He turned to slash at Weiss with a set of long, metal claws he was wearing, but once he had turned, Penelope shot a quick bolt of energy into the back of his head. He yowled in pain, clutching at the spot where his hair had been singed away. The shadow dropped Weiss, who scrambled to his feet and ran to Penelope's side.
"You okay, Weiss?" she asked, glancing at his neck to be sure it wasn't injured.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Weiss scanned the situation as Yrajia recovered, coming up with a strategy. "I'm thinking Maneuver 32-this guy's isn't the brightest."
"Got it." Penelope fired a few shots from a small machine gun mounted on her arm into the ceiling above Yrajia. It got his attention, just as planned. Looking for revenge, he stormed towards the girl, sweeping his claws at her as, aided by the suit, she swiftly dodged out of the way. Weiss used the distraction to squeeze himself between Yrajia and the stone wall, once more arriving behind him.
Seeing that Weiss was in position, Penelope stopped peppering the walls with bullets and began to prepare for a more significant discharge of energy in a technique she and Weiss had practiced time and time again. Their enemy would see the bright light coming from Penelope's hand, and duck to avoid the coming blast. Then, Weiss would, with a well-placed kick, send him crashing to the floor, allowing the two of them to strike a much more decisive blow.
That was the plan, at least.
Instead of ducking, Yrajia suddenly sunk into the shadow below him and waited for Penelope to fire the bolt of energy. Weiss, who had leapt into the air to deliver a kick into Yrajia's back, hit the ground painfully. After the danger had passed for the moment, Yrajia emerged from the ground. He was enraged: he had never expected these children to be so quick or cunning. He bolted to the stunned Penelope and drove one set of claws straight into her midsection and withdrew it, preparing to stab her again.
"Not so smart now, are you? I wasn't supposed to kill you, but you don't deserve to live, you little bit-"
Yrajia's tirade was interrupted by the sudden chill of a chain wrapping around his neck. To his horror, there was a hand dangling from the end of it. The chain tightened as he was pulled towards its owner. He was forcibly turned around, and saw Weiss with one arm extended, sans hand, with the chain that was currently around Yrajia's neck emerging from the bloody exposure of his wrist.
"Don't touch her again," said Weiss in a low growl. "Or-Do you see this?" He brandished his sword with the other hand. "I'll make sure that you will leave this place with much less of yourself intact. Oh, and the Scythe. I'll be needing that, as long as we're discussing the terms of your surrender." There was an odd quality to Weiss's voice, and his expression: it almost seemed as if he found the whole thing funny.
Yrajia would not normally take such a threat seriously. But there was something about the boy's face, a fire in his eyes, that deeply unsettled the hardened warrior. He had already gone against his orders, and suddenly he found it unwise to go any further. He put up his hands in surrender, and the chain loosened. With a glare, Yrajia took the Scythe from his back, set it on the floor, and limped away.

The chain retracted, and Weiss's hand returned to its home. He wavered for a moment, in shock, unsure of what had just transpired, but he became alert as soon as he saw Penelope lying against the wall. He ran to her, crouching, trying to tend to her. She was bleeding from three slits in her stomach, and barely conscious.
"Weiss?" she muttered. "Are you… okay? You're not… hurt, are you?"
"Oh, God, Penny… I'm fine, don't worry about me for a second." Weiss's heart raced as he tried to think of what to do, of the first aid Penelope had taught him just days before, but he couldn't remember any of it.
"We've got styptic in the supply room, dear," said Penelope as she reached out to touch Weiss's face. "Just make sure you don't leave Penelope alone, she gets so lonely…"
"What? No, you're not making any sense!" Just then, he remembered the emergency call button in the radio controls on his wrist that would alert Manfred to their trouble. He pressed it repeatedly, then took Penelope's hand.
"It's okay, Penelope. Just stay with me." He remembered that he needed to keep Penelope conscious for as long as he could. "Hey, it's Saturday, we get to go home tonight! Tomorrow morning, I'll make your favorite, okay?"
"Blueberry pancakes…"
"Yeah, as many as you can eat-"
The radio hissed into his ear, then Manfred's voice came over the airwaves.
"What's wrong, Weiss?"
"Penelope's been hurt. She was-"
"I know, Angel's been watching. We've been trying to contact you for ages, what the hell do you think you're doing with your radio off?"
"I'm sorry, I just… I don't know! What do I do?!"
" You're supposed to bring her to the truck, we've got stuff to treat it in here. Hurry, though, she apparently doesn't have a lot of time."
"Is it safe to move her?" asked Weiss, running a shaky hand through Penelope's hair.
"No," replied Manfred, "But if you leave her there any longer, she'll bleed out. Get your asses down here!"
The radio clicked, and there was a brief burst of static before it went silent. Weiss put his arms under the listless Penelope, lifting her up. She put her arms loosely around his neck and stared into his eyes, almost mournfully, as he started to carry her away.
"Weiss?"
"I'm right here. We're going to get to safety."
"In case I don't make it... Will you tell me something?" She seemed more lucid now, concentrating on staying awake.
"You're going to make it, I promise!"
"Just... You can never be… too careful…"
Weiss held Penelope close, staining his own uniform with her blood, as he stumbled down a staircase.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, breathlessly, as they reached the bottom.
"What do I mean to you, Weiss?"
The question stopped him in his tracks. He looked over the girl limply lying in his arms, and a torrent of familiar emotions rushed through him. He had felt this way before, carrying May in much the same way. But something about this situation made him feel more desperate. He felt that if he lost Penelope, he would lose...

"Everything. You're everything to me, Penelope, so you'd better hold on."

Penelope smiled and rested her head on Weiss's chest.
"That's what I thought," she murmured, closing her eyes and letting herself slip into unconsciousness.
Weiss hesitated, but after being urged forward by Manfed, he continued to the vehicle. The two of them loaded Penelope onto a row of seats, and the vehicle started on its way.

.   .   .

"Nanomachines in the uniform have been injected into her bloodstream," Angel said flatly, scientifically, without remorse. "They will at once stop the bleeding and sterilize the wound; as well as providing advanced regeneration of tissue. You need to wrap it in gauze, however. Are you paying attention, Weiss?"
"Y-yeah. She's gonna be okay, right?"
"Provided you treat her properly. Agents will pick you up at the Labs tomorrow morning."
The radio clicked off, and Weiss was left to care for Penelope in the dark as their vehicle sped through the night. She would survive, but it would be a long, painful drive across the snow-covered plains as he bandaged his injured friend.

No, he thought, she was more than that. As their home drew closer, Weiss realized that the words that had come out of his mouth without a second thought were true. He had abandoned his friends, his home, and had lost everything else. Penelope, the girl who seemed so fragile, pale and unconscious, was truly the only thing that mattered to him anymore.

Description
"They've entered the castle. Wanna run through those orders for me one more time, Boss?"
"Yrajia, I told you at least three times before!"
"You know how forgetful I am."
"Alright, alright. You've got the blueprints, so you know how to get in without setting off the alarms, right?
"I'm not that much of an idiot."
"That's debatable. Once you're in, take the Scythe, and get into a fight with the targets, if they're together. Let them beat you, but make it convincing. We don't want them getting suspicious. Also, take special care not to hurt the girl too badly."
"And… I'm supposed to give them the Scythe?"
"Yes."
"Well then, how in the hell are we supposed to get our hands on it?"
"One step at a time, my friend. One step at a time."
A heavy sigh, a pause, then:
"They've got the fruity one watching the car… tank… thing. Can I at least drop him?"
"No. Now get to work."
.   .   .

The halls of Azel were great and empty, and a sterile, oppressive scent hung in the air. The walls were decorated with many famous paintings--the owner of the castle had paid through the nose to purchase them. He was obviously very concerned with aesthetics, as everything was more ornate and elaborate than anything either Weiss or Penelope had seen in their lives. They had arrived earlier that morning, transported in a strange remotely controlled vehicle. It was long and plated with armor, with no windows. Now, they wandered the castle, climbing staircase after staircase, searching for the man who owned the place.
"Weiss, look at this!" called Penelope, staring at one particularly beautiful painting. It was a portrait of a woman with long, fine, black hair and a kind face. She seemed to stare directly at the viewer, and Penelope got a sense of comfort just by looking at it.
"What is it, Penelope?" Weiss stepped behind her.
"Isn't this..."
"Oh my God." He looked at the painting, and memories began to flood his mind. "It's Anemonae."
She looked slightly different, but Weiss could tell that it was her kind face staring at him. He couldn't say why, but he felt a great emptiness inside himself, a sadness that he couldn't get over.
Penelope put an arm on his shoulder. "You were close to her, weren't you?"
"No. No, I really wasn't. But... I feel like I've lost someone very close... Do you understand?"
She looked at him quizzically. "No, I don't think I do. Maybe you were closer than you think."
Weiss shook his head. "Come on, Penny. Let's go." He turned around and started to walk, running into someone in the process. He leapt back, but took a wrong step and fell to the floor. Looking up, he saw Zephyr standing above him, holding a hand out to help him up.
"Couldn't you have knocked or something? I mean, I'm a generous enough guy, but I've got to draw the line somewhere."
"W-we're very sorry," stammered Penelope as Zephyr helped Weiss to his feet. "We kind of assumed there wasn't anyone here."
"Assuming is a black habit, you know. What brings you here, Wakefield?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Zephyr!"
"Wait, you know each other?" Penelope glanced at the two of them. "Am I missing something?"
"Not really," Zephyr said with a chuckle. "We shared a montage once. Our mutual friend-" he pointed to the painting- "is really our closest connection. How is the old girl, anyway?"
Weiss looked to the floor. "She's gone. Samaiel-" He looked up, stunned, as Zephyr began to laugh.
"Don't look so down, kid. I promise, you'll see her again soon. She's got this weird habit of popping up when you least expect her… but that's neither here nor there. Tell me, what are you doing in my home?"
"Your home?" asked Weiss, surprised. "You're the-"
"Eccentric billionaire, yes. Spare me." Zephyr kept an expectant gaze on Weiss, but it was Penelope who jumped in with an answer.
"We're here per a request from Anemonae. She told us to retrieve the Scythe of Life, and we heard it was here."
"I see. And who are you, running errands for Annie?"
Something struck Penelope about the name, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "M-My name is Penelope," she said, struggling with her mild confusion. "Penelope Materas, sir."
Zephyr looked at her in disbelief. But after a moment, his shocked look turned into a wide grin.
"Well, I'll be damned! It is you, isn't it? And all grown up, too!" He spun around on one foot and started to walk down the hall, gesturing for the others to follow.
"Weiss Wakefield and Penelope Materas," he said after they had caught up, "Together at last! Hell, I was worried that the two of you would never hook up!"
There was a silence then, as neither Weiss nor Penelope responded. The boy glared at Zephyr, while Penelope stared at the floor, her face bright red.
"Hey now," Zephyr muttered, "Don't tell me you're not-"
"We're not," snapped Weiss.
"Jesus." Zephyr laughed uncomfortably. "I'm, like, the worst prophet ever, aren't I?" He brightened up slightly as they came to a large, ornate door."
"Hey, uh, here we are. The Scythe's in here, maybe we should just work something out and you can take it-"
Zephyr's heart lurched as he opened the door and saw an empty display case sitting in front of him.
"Oh, shit." He turned to Weiss and Penelope, his voice panicked, his words running into and stumbling over each other. "Someone got to it first. They must have snuck in when you came in… Nobody gets in without me knowing about it, they can't have escaped yet. You two, stay here and make sure nobody gets by! I've got to put the place on lockdown…" He continued to swear as he bolted down the corridor.

.   .   .

"We're not," muttered Penelope, breaking a long silence as she and Weiss stood watch by the door of the display room. "Of course we're not."
"Something wrong, Penny?"
She shook her head. "No, nothing. I just thought that, maybe, we'd gotten to the point where something like Zephyr's comment would give you a bit of pause, but I guess I was wrong."
Weiss sighed. "Come on, Penelope, you know I didn't mean anything-"
"Oh, I know. You can't mean anything when you don't think about what you're saying in the first place."
"Penelope… I'm sorry."
"Whatever. Forget about it, I shouldn't have said anything." Penelope turned to lean against the wall, and gasped at what she saw.
"That's cold," said the most terrifying person the girl had ever seen in her life. He towered above her, disturbingly muscular, with a shock of grimy, jet-black hair hanging from his head. His skin was scaly black-as if it had been completely burned and scarred over. He grinned at the teens with a mouthful of jagged teeth and yellow, piercing eyes.
Strapped to his back was the Scythe of Life.
"Hey there, kiddos." He patted the glowing weapon mockingly. "I heard a rumor going around that you wanted this. Well, let me tell you something: that's a big mistake. Because if you really wanted it, you'd have to get through me. And, y'know, I try not to murder children too  often, but exceptions have to be made once in a while. 'Least, that's what Cainra says, and I tend to listen to the uppity bastard."
Without quite realizing what she was doing, Penelope stepped forward with a grin. Confidence filled her, making her giddy and sending a charge of excitement through her body. She was sure they could win, though she was less sure about the origin of her sudden poise.
"That's strange," she said. "Because the only mistake I can see in taking that Scythe from you is that we might make your face more difficult to look at."
Yrajia growled at Penelope,  flooding her face with hot and damp breath. As he did so, Weiss got behind him and prepared to strike with the sword that the Alliance had issued him. Before he could bring the sword down on his foe's neck, a shadow emerged from the ground, stopping him and lifting him into the air by his own neck.
"Don't fucking try it," snarled Yrajia. He turned to slash at Weiss with a set of long, metal claws he was wearing, but once he had turned, Penelope shot a quick bolt of energy into the back of his head. He yowled in pain, clutching at the spot where his hair had been singed away. The shadow dropped Weiss, who scrambled to his feet and ran to Penelope's side.
"You okay, Weiss?" she asked, glancing at his neck to be sure it wasn't injured.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Weiss scanned the situation as Yrajia recovered, coming up with a strategy. "I'm thinking Maneuver 32-this guy's isn't the brightest."
"Got it." Penelope fired a few shots from a small machine gun mounted on her arm into the ceiling above Yrajia. It got his attention, just as planned. Looking for revenge, he stormed towards the girl, sweeping his claws at her as, aided by the suit, she swiftly dodged out of the way. Weiss used the distraction to squeeze himself between Yrajia and the stone wall, once more arriving behind him.
Seeing that Weiss was in position, Penelope stopped peppering the walls with bullets and began to prepare for a more significant discharge of energy in a technique she and Weiss had practiced time and time again. Their enemy would see the bright light coming from Penelope's hand, and duck to avoid the coming blast. Then, Weiss would, with a well-placed kick, send him crashing to the floor, allowing the two of them to strike a much more decisive blow.
That was the plan, at least.
Instead of ducking, Yrajia suddenly sunk into the shadow below him and waited for Penelope to fire the bolt of energy. Weiss, who had leapt into the air to deliver a kick into Yrajia's back, hit the ground painfully. After the danger had passed for the moment, Yrajia emerged from the ground. He was enraged: he had never expected these children to be so quick or cunning. He bolted to the stunned Penelope and drove one set of claws straight into her midsection and withdrew it, preparing to stab her again.
"Not so smart now, are you? I wasn't supposed to kill you, but you don't deserve to live, you little bit-"
Yrajia's tirade was interrupted by the sudden chill of a chain wrapping around his neck. To his horror, there was a hand dangling from the end of it. The chain tightened as he was pulled towards its owner. He was forcibly turned around, and saw Weiss with one arm extended, sans hand, with the chain that was currently around Yrajia's neck emerging from the bloody exposure of his wrist.
"Don't touch her again," said Weiss in a low growl. "Or-Do you see this?" He brandished his sword with the other hand. "I'll make sure that you will leave this place with much less of yourself intact. Oh, and the Scythe. I'll be needing that, as long as we're discussing the terms of your surrender." There was an odd quality to Weiss's voice, and his expression: it almost seemed as if he found the whole thing funny.
Yrajia would not normally take such a threat seriously. But there was something about the boy's face, a fire in his eyes, that deeply unsettled the hardened warrior. He had already gone against his orders, and suddenly he found it unwise to go any further. He put up his hands in surrender, and the chain loosened. With a glare, Yrajia took the Scythe from his back, set it on the floor, and limped away.

The chain retracted, and Weiss's hand returned to its home. He wavered for a moment, in shock, unsure of what had just transpired, but he became alert as soon as he saw Penelope lying against the wall. He ran to her, crouching, trying to tend to her. She was bleeding from three slits in her stomach, and barely conscious.
"Weiss?" she muttered. "Are you… okay? You're not… hurt, are you?"
"Oh, God, Penny… I'm fine, don't worry about me for a second." Weiss's heart raced as he tried to think of what to do, of the first aid Penelope had taught him just days before, but he couldn't remember any of it.
"We've got styptic in the supply room, dear," said Penelope as she reached out to touch Weiss's face. "Just make sure you don't leave Penelope alone, she gets so lonely…"
"What? No, you're not making any sense!" Just then, he remembered the emergency call button in the radio controls on his wrist that would alert Manfred to their trouble. He pressed it repeatedly, then took Penelope's hand.
"It's okay, Penelope. Just stay with me." He remembered that he needed to keep Penelope conscious for as long as he could. "Hey, it's Saturday, we get to go home tonight! Tomorrow morning, I'll make your favorite, okay?"
"Blueberry pancakes…"
"Yeah, as many as you can eat-"
The radio hissed into his ear, then Manfred's voice came over the airwaves.
"What's wrong, Weiss?"
"Penelope's been hurt. She was-"
"I know, Angel's been watching. We've been trying to contact you for ages, what the hell do you think you're doing with your radio off?"
"I'm sorry, I just… I don't know! What do I do?!"
" You're supposed to bring her to the truck, we've got stuff to treat it in here. Hurry, though, she apparently doesn't have a lot of time."
"Is it safe to move her?" asked Weiss, running a shaky hand through Penelope's hair.
"No," replied Manfred, "But if you leave her there any longer, she'll bleed out. Get your asses down here!"
The radio clicked, and there was a brief burst of static before it went silent. Weiss put his arms under the listless Penelope, lifting her up. She put her arms loosely around his neck and stared into his eyes, almost mournfully, as he started to carry her away.
"Weiss?"
"I'm right here. We're going to get to safety."
"In case I don't make it... Will you tell me something?" She seemed more lucid now, concentrating on staying awake.
"You're going to make it, I promise!"
"Just... You can never be… too careful…"
Weiss held Penelope close, staining his own uniform with her blood, as he stumbled down a staircase.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, breathlessly, as they reached the bottom.
"What do I mean to you, Weiss?"
The question stopped him in his tracks. He looked over the girl limply lying in his arms, and a torrent of familiar emotions rushed through him. He had felt this way before, carrying May in much the same way. But something about this situation made him feel more desperate. He felt that if he lost Penelope, he would lose...

"Everything. You're everything to me, Penelope, so you'd better hold on."

Penelope smiled and rested her head on Weiss's chest.
"That's what I thought," she murmured, closing her eyes and letting herself slip into unconsciousness.
Weiss hesitated, but after being urged forward by Manfed, he continued to the vehicle. The two of them loaded Penelope onto a row of seats, and the vehicle started on its way.

.   .   .

"Nanomachines in the uniform have been injected into her bloodstream," Angel said flatly, scientifically, without remorse. "They will at once stop the bleeding and sterilize the wound; as well as providing advanced regeneration of tissue. You need to wrap it in gauze, however. Are you paying attention, Weiss?"
"Y-yeah. She's gonna be okay, right?"
"Provided you treat her properly. Agents will pick you up at the Labs tomorrow morning."
The radio clicked off, and Weiss was left to care for Penelope in the dark as their vehicle sped through the night. She would survive, but it would be a long, painful drive across the snow-covered plains as he bandaged his injured friend.

No, he thought, she was more than that. As their home drew closer, Weiss realized that the words that had come out of his mouth without a second thought were true. He had abandoned his friends, his home, and had lost everything else. Penelope, the girl who seemed so fragile, pale and unconscious, was truly the only thing that mattered to him anymore.