Summary: Two years. Two years since 009 and 002 plummeted to earth. Two years since 001 teleported 002 to safety, but 009 had died. They had neve found his body. They had all disperesd to the four cornors of the earth, forgetting their numbers, their powers, their calling.

Discalimer: I do not own Cyborg 009. I do own the OC's in the story, though.

Moving On

Pyuuma looked at the African sky, Peace in his nation had been found the day of the shooting star, of the defeat of Black Ghost, and of the death of 009, a true friend. He hadn't changed much on the outside, an effect of the scales Dr. Gilmore had been forced to give him in order to save his life. Inside he felt old. THey had all gone thier own ways, he had to move forward, without using his powers. He stared longingly at the lake right in front of him, before turning away. They had moved on, he had to as well.

click-tap-click, the type writer kept typing, story after story came out, but nothing that he could use. The main character kept dying, he couldn't rewrite it any other way. Great Britain sighed as he looked out his window. It would be midnight soon. He was pulling another all nighter. His hand dropped to his stomach, before he caught himself. He was no longer a warrior, he had chosen to be a civilian, meaning no powers. The others were moving on, he had too as well.

Chang Changku served breakfast late. wondering for the first time in a year about the others. "Order up!" he was behind again, he needed an errand boy . . . his thoughts had strayed to 009 yet again. Behind, and he was forbidden to use his breath. He'd have to adjust again. The others had adjusted, he had too as well.

How silent the earth was, it was like the earth mounrned 009 as well. He looked at the sunset, how beautiful it was, how many had he seen before he realizd that 009 had not enjoyed them as much as well, for him he remembered those who would never see the beauty again, because of death ripping it away. Leadership was a heavy thing for anyone, a leader would always bear the pain of others. and their joy. He was above that now, he had become a star. The others had moved on, Geronimo Jr. had too as well.

Sixty years was a wonderful change on the city, but not for a man who had his time stopped. An arm in a sling, he dimly realized he had no place. Hilda, Vina, who was next? 009 had told him a story about a Shigami who wanted to be loved, and had fallen in love with a mortal woman, but shigami's couldn't get near people without killing them, he felt like that character. Albert Heinrich looked towards the morning sky. 'Time and tide waits for no man' Great Britain had said that, when he heard about the four having their time stopped. It was true, he couldn't stop and mourn Vina and her sisters, nor could he mourn Joe. The others had gotten over it, he had too as well.

Dust. Cleaning a small apartment, having gotten a job at a dance studio, life tried to settle, she hadn't slept well again. She had to keep moving, she had to forget. her heart had shattered that day, now she was alone again. Francoise Arnoul had shut her own ability down, she would never pry into another's life with her senory abilities, she would ignore what was said in any language other than french. The others had forgotten, she had too as well.

Jet Link stared at the sky, tempted beyond measure to fly again, to fight. There was no need, though. The New York nightscape glowed. You couldn't see the stars . . . he didn't want to, he had seen them all that day, he didn't need to see it again. his hair which had always been spiked was flat, in a low braid on his neck. bangs still in his eyes. He missed them all, but they had moved on, he had to as well. He had to grow up.

Ivan Whiskey Gilmore listened to the day care woman assure Dr. Gilmore that his 'grandson' would be alright. He had the hardest time forgetting of any one, with his activated brain, it was hard to be 'normal' but he had stopped communicating, it was his fault Joe had died, 003 had cried for so many days. It had left him with a hole, the man he considered a brother because they had both lost their mothers after being born, had died. He hadn't saved him, he wanted nothing to do with his powers. The others had agreed to never use their powers again, he had too as well.

Dr. Isaac Gilmore sighed as he got behind the wheel of his car. 001 and 002 had done their best to save 009, but he had been to far gone. He and Ivan had gone to Japan, staying with Professor Kazuma. They had all scattered. He could only watch over Ivan now, they had run from the memories, he wouldn't, he'd be there when they had learned that hiding in work didn't hide the pain. They had to learn, he just had to be there.

In an old mansion a woman moved gracefully down a dark corridor, gargoyles and statues of monsters decorating it where armor had once stood. In the dark they almost looked alive. She moved silently only once glancing at the full moon, her tight black dress was slitted up to the top of her thigh, hung off her shoulders, and was low cut, showing of her immaculate figure. Pale skin and dark hair completed the effect along with the black lipstick she wore. She didn't even knock as she entered a door to the room with a large fireplace and chairs, the meeting room of the place. Keeping with the dark theme of the mansion, a painting of a snake eating through a man's body hung over the fireplace. It the firelight, it looked like one was watching the man struggle as the snake slithered.

"Sir, should we start by going in descending order?" The woman's voice was musical and deadly as she looked up from the file. She stared at the darkened room's occupants, two were in chairs, one closer to the lit fireplace. A shadow behind the latter seemed to be standing upright.

"No, start with the first. Have we found the child yet?" The man enjoyed a glass of wine, his excellent britich accent was proof of years at Oxford. His face shadowed.

"Japan, with the doctor." The woman sighed. She glanced at the figure wearing a hat and trenchcoat, who just sat in the dark, moonlight glancing off the pale gold mask with black hearts over the eyes, it didn't cover up his mouth, which had a scar maring his lips. The hat was pulled low.

"Call them Nocturna. Having two is better than having one, don't you think, Nightshade?" The shadow moved, forming into a man with the right half of his face covered with a black mask, he was smirking.

"What about the one here?" Nocturna stared at her Master.

"He's next to last. Call the one in New York as well, Do you think you can take two at once, Phantom? I'd have the Doctor." The hat raised up a hair, before the man nodded. "Very well, make the call." He drank the wine in one last gulp. "Where's Renegade?"

"Resting. She used up the last of her energy finding the child." Nightshade's voice was smooth, but it was just as deadly as Nocturna's. "Nightmare is asleep as well, her mind is so fragile now a days."

"Hmm, wake Renegade the day after tomorrow, and leave Nightmare to sleep, we won't need her yet." The man smiled. "I love it when the hunt begins . . ."

Well, first Cyborg fic I've posted, will not be updated often, but that doesn't seem to be a problem for a lot of people who like the Cyborg fanfics . . . Next chapter will be in December or January . . . R&R.