Greetings! It is I, the Full Catastrophe, bringing you an all-new story! This is my first foray into the Generator Rex fandom; I just binge-watched the show on Netflix and fell in love with it. So, bearing in mind that this is AU, please let me know if I'm making any grievous errors and I'll do my best to correct them.

(For those of you following Treading Water, the next chapter is in the works. I was distracted by Rex, but I haven't abandoned Danny.)

Without further ado...

Script Initiated:
Prologue

A helicopter soared over his head, clearing him by about five feet. It crashed into the building behind him, and the wind of its explosion, the heat of the flames, pressed on his back. Dimly, he wondered if there had been anyone still inside of it, or the now-collapsing building. He decided it didn't matter; any lives lost were collateral damage, if more lives could be saved in the end.

Their war was a game of numbers, now.

Or worse, it was a war against time, fighting off the inevitable.

Agent Six rolled his shoulders and brandished his blade. He did not have time to think about vague concepts like 'hope', or the noticeable lack of it. To do so would weigh him down, and he would lose.

It was against his policy to lose a fight. Especially against a mutant. Especially against this mutant.

Six had been following this particular gargantuan for the past year. It had first crawled out of the ocean in Hong Kong, and it would dive back under the protection of the deep every time Providence soldiers threatened it. Thirty stories high and sporting a variety of deadly weapons, this biomechanical giant had the ability to level cities in minutes. Six would say it was like Godzilla made real, but he had already made that comparison last month in Tokyo.

Now, it had washed up on the shores of his base country, in New York City. One could say it was searching for something, only it was hard to believe a mutant had much of a mind left. It was displaying typical animal behavior, attack and retreat. What was even harder to imagine was that it had once been a person at all.

After five encounters, it had come to Providence's stomping grounds. Six was determined to make it their final encounter.

Six's partner White, in the "Big Hurt", was leading the ground troops and blasting it with all they had, but his efforts were making little impact. The robotic monstrosity had already taken out their air forces with the sword growing from its right arm and the huge blasters situated on its shoulders. The air was heavy with dust and debris, obscuring the creature but for its cold, glowing blue eyes.

"Still think we should try to get a sample for Dr. Fell?" White grunted over the communicator. It crackled with static; the beast always sent off waves of electrical interference.

"I'm sure we'll find a piece for him," said Six.

"Ready to join in the fun?" said White. "We could use your help."

"On my way."

Six was going to try something new today. He had always attempted to topple the creature from the ground, but judging from the distribution of its armor, its head was clearly its weak point. Planes couldn't get close, but a single man on a single hoverboard would stand a change.

Six was that man. He sheathed his sword and flung the hoverboard to the rooftop. It hung a foot from the ground. It was a prototype, the first of its kind to be used in battle, and it would not hold him for long, especially if he needed to maneuver around the enemy's attacks. It was the reason his departure point was from a nearby building. From there he had a straight shot.

He leapt onto the board, his magnetized boots holding him firmly in place. The board would respond to the movements of its rider, and for when he reached his target, he had a release button attached to his wrist. Six shifted his weight, and the hoverboard shot into open air.

White, waiting for Six's takeoff, blasted the mutant's chest to draw its attention. Agent Six was little more than a speck in the sky, surely like a gnat to the hulking monster. He drew up to the giant's head, which seemed as big as a house, and dropped onto its shoulder with ease; now without a rider, the hoverboard crashed against one of the cannons and shattered.

Landing, Six drew his sword, not wasting a minute. He had no time to waste, for as soon as his feet met metal, the creature's whole attention was on him. Six sprinted to the neck, intent on slashing the exposed wires there.

Something wrapped around his ankle and started to pull with frightening strength. Thinking quickly, Six speared his blade into the creature down to the hilt and held on against being thrown to the ground. Glancing back, he saw a mechanical tentacle had sprung from the creature's hide, and it was what had grabbed him.

His communicator squealed in his ear and then spewed static; Six flinched and yanked the piece from his ear. It was useless now, this close to the beast.

The agent drew a shuriken from his belt pouch and launched it at the tentacle, slicing it through. He collapsed on the hard metal surface but jumped to his feet again. He pulled at the sword, but it was stuck fast in the beast.

Suddenly, electricity rippled across the creature's skin, hot and blue. The muscles in Six's legs convulsed and he dropped to his knees, grunting his pain. Raising his head, he saw the robot's massive left hand drawing near. Two of its fingers, like buses, pinched the back of his jacket with impossibly accuracy. It plucked him from its shoulder. Six's first thought was that he would be flicked away, like so much dirt.

The robot had other ideas. Its mechanical jaws snapped open – Six had not even known they could move – and it raised Six to its great maw. The soldiers on the ground fired furiously at the creature's arm, in vain. It tilted its head back and dropped Six inside its open mouth.

Six plunged into blackness. He slid downward along a cold, narrow passage that twisted and turned at sharp, steep angles. His fingers groped for purchase but found none.

At last he landed, managing to strike the bottom in a crouch. He was in a small, cramped chamber somewhere in the center of the creature. The walls were struck through with angular blue lines of light, the same blue that shined from the robot's two eyes. Six had lost his sunglasses in the tussle, and the light glared too brightly.

He drew himself to full height and found himself face to face with an unexpected thing. The human heart of the creature.

It was a kid – Latino, by the looks of him, and not older than twelve or thirteen. He was embedded in machinery. Featureless, grey technology was wrapped around his arms and legs, burying him seamlessly past his elbows and knees. The same blue matrices crisscrossed his limbs and sprung outward from his eyes, which were staring blankly forward, flooded by the blue light.

This boy, this small human, was controlling the robot. He was its heart and brain.

If Six killed this boy, the threat would be eliminated.

He reached for the dagger strapped to his leg. As though sensing his intent, tentacles sprung from the wall close behind him, wrapping tightly around his arms and legs before he could reach his weapon. They slammed him back against the wall and held him firmly there. Six struggled to move, but he could not gain an inch. His human strength was no match for this.

Six continued to pull at his bonds for a few more seconds until he understood that he was just wasting his strength. Then he relaxed; he knew when he was defeated. The only thing he could do now was to wait for progress outside. White, after seeing his partner of eighteen months being eaten, would surely be unleashing hell. From the explosions and clangs ringing distantly, Six knew that was exactly what White was doing.

Six stared at the boy's impassive face looming only feet away. If the mutant knew he was a threat, why had it not eliminated him? Or was it simply toying with him now?

Abruptly, the sounds of fighting grew dim, and vibrations wracked the inner chamber of the robot. Sickened, Six gleaned immediately what was happening. The robot was being overwhelmed, and now it was retreating – back to the ocean, where Providence could not chase it. Its footsteps shook the inner chamber like small earthquakes.

The world spun, and pressure suddenly beat at Six's ears. They were engulfed in silence, but for the humming of the robot's engines. They must have reached the ocean. Agent Six would not be rescued.

The pressure built to almost unbearable levels, causing Six to groan. He wondered how much longer the oxygen inside the mutant's frame would hold out and then wondered if the boy at its core needed oxygen to stay alive. Outwardly, the human host seemed unaffected by anything happening.

Then, the pressure eased up. They seemed to have stopped moving.

Blue light pulsed outward from the boy, tumbling in waves through the walls of the chamber and disappearing outward in crescendoing and decrescendoing hums. This continued for several long minutes and stopped as suddenly as it started. When it did, the boy's eyes fluttered closed. To human sensibility, he appeared to be sleeping.

Dully, Agent Six studied the mutant in front of him. Here at the core, it was amazing how vulnerable the creature appeared in humanoid form. If a cure existed, and it was administered to this child, what sort of person would he be? He had spent at least the past year as a nanite-active mutant, meaning he was barely older than ten when the change occurred. The kid had not even lived a full life before it was lost.

But there was no cure. Providence's procedure was "Contain or Kill"; this kid could not be contained, so he had to be killed. He had already caused the deaths of too many people. And if a cure did exist and he was restored, how could any person live with the knowledge of what they had done as a monster?

Killing the mutants was the most merciful thing to do.

A certain scientist Six had met back at Providence HQ, Doctor Rebecca Holiday, did not agree. She and other scientists like her had given the organisms afflicted a name, as though they were suffering a disease or simply the next step in evolution. They called them Exponentially Variegated Organisms, or EVOs. Dr. Holiday was against dissecting the creatures; she wanted to study them in a natural habitat. Six admired her morals and humanity, but they were wearing on her psychologically. She would not be able to do her job for much longer, with that mindset.

Time passed. Six stared blearily at the floor of the chamber. His limbs were feeling numb in the grasp of the wall. As he hung there, he thought about the fate of humanity. The nanites were inside of every living creature. Even if they found a way to purge a person of nanites, the microscopic technology would immediately enter the body again, taken in through food, water, or the air itself. Every person in the world was a bomb, the countdown unknown – that included Six, White, Dr. Holiday. No one knew what triggered the transformations, but they seemed inevitable. There were more mutants in the world every day, be they plants, animals, or people. Some places had been completely overwhelmed already, like Kiev or the site of the original Event, Abysus.

They had years, at best, before the mutants outnumbered them. The human race was dying. It was only a matter of when.

Thinking like that, Dr. Holiday's views could be understood. You would want to take pity on a creature, if you knew someday you would be joining it.

If Six were to be honest, he would admit that he was tired of killing. He was tired of seeing people killed and killing creatures that were once human. He wished there was an alternative. There was not one, so he usually did not allow these thoughts to creep in. They would ruin him.

Now, however, his minutes were numbered. The end was drawing quickly near. Why not let his mind drift to things that could have been?

Agent Six only realized he had fallen asleep when his head jerked up. The boy's eyes were open now but no less blank than before.

Six was feeling impatient. He was not afraid of dying; that had always been a risk. But he hated waiting.

"Hey, kid," he said.

The boy's head moved, tilting toward Six. It can hear me.

"Tell me why I'm here."

For a second, Six did not think the boy would answer or was capable of it. He was surprised again. The boy opened his mouth and a young voice carried out of it in monotone. "Threat quarantined."

Agent Six raised a brow. "So. What will you do with me?"

"No known procedures to empty quarantine."

The boy was speaking like a computer. That wasn't a big shock, considering the nature of this particular… EVO. Six dissected the words, realizing that he was going to be stuck here for the indeterminable future, because this EVO didn't have a code with which to delete him.

He should try to learn more, if only to satisfy his curiosity. "What are you looking for?"

"Objective unknown."

"But you have an objective?"

"Affirmative."

This was very interesting. It would have been useful, had Six had the means of telling it to anyone. Unfortunately, his communicator was now lying on the streets of Manhattan, likely busted beyond recognition.

A thin smile stretched his mouth. He appreciated irony. "Where is it?"

The EVO did not respond. Six frowned at it, before he noticed movement in his peripheral. He looked to either side, spotting long, thin tendrils stretching out toward his head, the ends glowing with the EVO's blue energy. Six jerked away from them, but they were unfazed; they curled along his temples, and with swift, painful jabs, embedded themselves on either side of his head, near the corners of his eyes.

Fire crawled over his skin, pain beat on his head like a migraine, and he was blinded by blue light; he squeezed his eyes shut, but it only grew brighter, searing him. When it faded just seconds later, the pain lingering only as a phantom, another image formed: a rocky beach, a clear blue sky, dark waves tipped with white foam lapping at the rocks. Rusty colored mechanical legs – the robot's, Six realized – were bent toward him. Its left hand rose, like it were Six's hand, and pointed one finger to the northwest horizon.

'It' was there.

Agent Six blinked rapidly, but eyes open or closed, he couldn't get rid of the robot's vision. He was seeing through its eyes. It had hijacked his sight.

He was not a man prone to panicking, but he felt his heartbeat speed up. His body was numb from restraint, and because his eyes registered something different, he felt vulnerably disoriented. He was used to being in charge of his own body; now it felt like he did not have one. Nor did he like the idea of having his mind invaded by an EVO; it was no better than turning into one.

Six ground his teeth. He pressed his interrogation. "How do you know it's there?"

Two more tendrils, chilling and smooth, wormed into Six's ears. His breath hitched, and he groaned as they buried into his eardrums, searing them with the same electric fire that had assaulted his temples. A high-pitched whine grew out of the pain, and it continued far past the point the pain faded. Six shook his head, like he was trying to shake away a gnat, and although he felt the robotic tendrils pulling at him, nothing about his perception changed.

He, or the EVO, or both, stared at the far horizon, the noise incessant in their ears.

"You've been chasing that," he observed. "For the last year."

"Affirmative," replied the EVO, voice echoing in the back of Six's head. It was speaking directly into his nerves. He flinched.

"Why?"

"The directive is to retrieve the object." In other words, it was doing what it was programmed to do without knowing why or even what it was after.

"Who gave you this directive?"

"Information classified."

Six frowned. If someone had the ability to control the minds of these EVOs, that was a serious threat to the world. The question now was if there were others like this robot and if the programmer was even still alive.

"Why did you kill the men from Providence?"

"Threat removal procedure." Obviously. It would take out anything shooting at it, especially if said persons were obstructing its mission.

"You do realize you could reach your objective more easily if you weren't a robot as tall as a skyscraper."

The EVO did not respond with words, but a thrum of electricity passed through Six's mind, and inexplicably he recognized it as a question. His own body had almost faded from his senses. He wondered what was happening to him. Was he merging with this EVO?

"Providence attacks you because you seem like a threat. To accomplish your mission, you don't need weapons so much as you need stealth."

It prodded his mind again, questioning. Something occurred to Agent Six – if the creature was willing to listen to him, perhaps he could even strike a deal with it. If he attempted a deal, it would need to accomplish several things at once, including securing his freedom and neutralizing the threat this creature posed.

"Can you dismantle this body?"

"Affirmative."

"Why don't you?"

"Current manifestation of Rex is necessary to protect Rex."

'Rex'? What was 'Rex'? Six's mind flitted to the boy embedded in the heart of this robot. Could it be the boy's name? Why would an EVO, much less a bunch of pre-programmed nanites, care about a name?

Agent Six frowned. The EVO would be vulnerable without the hulking robotic shell, but that was the point of this.

"What if I protected Rex? I'm known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world. I'm more than qualified. Besides, I know how to navigate the human world. I'm assuming you don't."

Six could sense its hesitation, strange as that was for a machine to feel. "Script initiated," it said. "Contract agreement. Terms are as follows: the human known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world will protect Rex against all threats until the directive is complete. The human known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world will assist Rex in completion of the directive. The human known as the sixth most dangerous man in the world may not break the terms of the agreement. Agree to the terms of the agreement?"

Agent Six mused on how it was asking him whether or not he would agree to these terms much like new software would during installation. If he wanted escape, it was not like he had a choice. Six was not ready to die. Besides, he wanted to see what this thing was after; he might as well ensure a spot by its side.

And when he discovered the nature of its 'directive', he would do his duty and hand the creature over to Providence. He could already see how this would end.

"I agree."

When he came to his senses, he found himself lying on a rocky beach, the rocks biting into his back through his armor. Instead of blue electricity, his vision was filled by soft blue sky, streaked with hazy white clouds. The salty smell of the ocean stung his nose. Six sat up and looked around, eyes searching for the robot, which if it were near, should have been incredibly obvious.

The first thing he noticed was sunlight glinting off of a distinctive silver blade a few yards away. His katana, which he'd abandoned hours ago in a new sheath of biomechanical flesh. Six pushed to his feet and went to retrieve it, relieved that it had not been lost forever; it was his only souvenir from his time with One. He felt better with it in his hand, having felt partially naked without it.

Swinging his eyes around again, Six noted a great depression in the rocks of the beach where they had been scraped away or pressed down. If the tide came in, this would become a pool, or maybe a lake. At the center of the depression lay a boy. The boy. The EVO.

Six walked to the EVO's side and knelt to observe it. All traces of technology were gone, from not only the boy but from the entire beach. To the naked eye, the EVO looked no different from a normal human being. It was unconscious, a child dressed in a too-tight black T-shirt and blue jeans, wearing ratty sneakers; it had probably outgrown these in its time as an EVO.

Agent Six needed to make sure the creature was alive. He checked the vitals and found that it was breathing and its heart rate was steady. It had no noticeable injuries.

Now Six checked himself. He, too, was uninjured, but for the small incisions where the EVO's tendrils had attached themselves to his optic nerves. There was blood dried along the sides of his face where they had entered. All of his technology was fried, so he had no way of contacting Providence or even telling where he was.

Providence… His eyes flickered to the EVO. They could not be allowed to know about this. If they did, Doctor Fell would dissect the EVO without a second thought, and no one (save Dr. Holiday) would argue against him. Anyway, after the battle in Manhattan, Providence would assume Agent Six was dead and the EVO long gone, still swimming the depths of the ocean. They wouldn't know to look for a boy. They had the perfect cover.

Six was about to lift the EVO into his arms to head inland when it groaned and rolled its head. Its eyes blinked open – not blindingly blue, like before, but human brown. They squinted up at Six, and the creature said, "Has visto mi bicicleta?"

Agent Six blinked once, stunned. "No," he replied.

The EVO groaned again and sat up. It looked around at the deserted beach and back at Six. "Where are we? Who are you? Is that a sword? Wait, was I just speaking Spanish? Are we in Mexico?"

"I don't know where we are," said Six, "and I'm called 'Six'."

The EVO made a face. "Six? Isn't that a number?" It pushed to its feet and turned around, inspecting its surroundings. "So, how did we get here? Why am I here with you? Why don't I know who you are? Why don't I know… anything?"

"You don't remember anything?"

It shook its head, frowning at the ground. "No. Nothing, except my name."

"Rex," Six supplied.

The EVO brightened. "Yeah! How did you know?"

He ignored the question. "What about the directive?"

"Is that like a phone book?"

Six was quiet for a long time. He stared at the EVO until it started to squirm.

"You seem like a very serious person, Mr. Six," it said. Then, its stomach squelched loudly. It wrapped its arms around the offending organ and huddled forward. "I don't guess we can order a pizza out here?"

"Let's get off of this beach. We'll find something to eat and learn about where we are."

They wandered together away from the beach until they reached a small town. Road signs indicated that they were in South Carolina, far down the east coast from where they had left Manhattan. They walked in on the main road, the sun sinking in the west and plunging the town into twilight.

Along the road, several building fronts were smashed, and one store had collapsed entirely. Several fires burned in the rubble, and a woman was sobbing, held back by several others. A few men and women with rifles stood around another, unidentifiable, hulking shape that could only be a mutant. The flames reflected dimly off of its slick, maroon hide.

The EVO, Rex, stopped and stared at the wreckage with wide eyes. "What happened? Was there an explosion?"

Six used a firm hand to move it along. "Something like that."

He guided the EVO to a burger joint that was further down the road, out of sight of the wreckage. He ordered two burgers, fries, and cokes for them to share, and they ate outside on a picnic table. Six watched the EVO inhale the food like it hadn't eaten in a year, which, Six realized, it probably hadn't. He offered it the rest of his fries.

When the EVO was done eating, its eyes wandered around the town again. "Everything looks busted." All around them, there were buildings with boarded up windows, cars with caved-in doors and smashed fenders, potholes littering the streets. People's faces were grim and nervous, although some still walked around carefree, laughing and talking.

"This is what happens during a war."

The EVO gaped at Six. There was ketchup trailing down its chin. "A war? Who are we fighting?"

"There isn't one name for them yet, but I think soon the world will call them EVOs."

"E-what?"

"Exponentially Variegated Organisms."

The EVO stared blankly at him. "Is that English? Never mind. What are they? Some sort of terrorists? An out-of-control rock group?" At the last suggestion, it mimed an air guitar then punched its fists in several directions.

Six did not answer for some time. When he did, he said, "You really don't remember anything."

"Just waking up and seeing your face. Not the best memory, but," it grinned sheepishly, "I'll take what I can get."

"Your parents?" It shook its head. "Your age?"

"Nope. No es nada en esta cabeza. Sorry." Sadness flashed briefly over its expressions, and it frowned at the table. In a small voice it said, "I wish there was." It looked up at Six again. "Do you actually know me, or are you kidnapping me? Should I call the police?"

"I don't know much about you, Rex, but I'm supposed to take care of you for a while."

"No offense, but that sounds like something a kidnapper would say." When Six didn't react, it said, dragging out the words: "Aaanyway, tell me more about these EVO people. Why are we at war with them?"

"First, they aren't people. Not anymore, and sometimes they never were."

"If they aren't people, what are they?"

"Mutations. Two years ago, there was an Event, an explosion in a lab in Abysus where nanite research was being conducted. After the explosion, these nanites infected every living creature on Earth-"

"What?" the EVO cried, turning its arms over and scouring them with its eyes.

"You can't see them. They are microscopic on a cellular level. But yes, you have them, too. Everyone does." Not for the first time, the irony of the situation struck Six – explaining EVOs to an EVO itself. It was a bitter irony. He grimaced.

"Can I get them out?"

"No," said Six. "There is no cure. Let me finish explaining." The EVO stared pointedly at him, giving him the go-ahead. "Most nanites are currently inactive. But when they activate, they cause their hosts to mutate into violent aberrations. The nanites can activate at any time, and there is no reversing the effects of the transformation. These creatures are EVOs, and these are the monsters we are fighting."

"So, you mean, back there…"

"Yes. That was caused by an EVO."

The EVO shivered. "Scary. Man, I hope that doesn't happen to me."

Six stared at the creature before him, which started to squirm again under his gaze. Finally, he looked away. "Me too," he stated simply. He needed more sunglasses. Six wasn't good with things like 'eye contact'.

"You need to smile more," the EVO decided. "But you seem like an okay guy. Tough. I guess it's okay if you take care of me for awhile."

"…Thanks."

"Where's your house? Do I have my own room?"

"I have an apartment in Brooklyn. We'll go there."

"Brooklyn? As in New York? Awesome!" The EVO started bouncing up and down on the bench.

"Listen, Rex," said Six. His tone must have meant something to the creature, because it calmed down and looked at him with wary eyes. "We need to lay low. There are people out there who want to kill you."

Its mouth fell open and it pointed at its chest. "Me? Why?"

"That's classified. But if they learn where you are, they will rip you apart molecule by molecule. It's my job to prevent that from happening."

"You seem more and more suspicious by the second, mister. Do you work for the government?"

"I did, until recently." Very recently. "It's how I know. I have some money. We'll take a Greyhound to New York and settle in there. Do everything I say, and you'll live."

The EVO rubbed its forehead and squeezed its eyes shut. "Jeez. I feel like I woke up in the worst life possible. What were you doing, me?" It knocked both fists against the sides of its head.

Six – no longer 'Agent' – bought the EVO new clothes, and after it changed into them and Six changed out of his own conspicuous gear, they went to the nearest Greyhound station to buy tickets. They had to take a taxi to the neighboring town, but from there, they were able to catch a bus that very night.

By the time the bus departed, it was dark and impossible to see anything through the vehicle's glossy windows. But, had it been daylight, Six imagined that the EVO would have seen a world torn apart and taped back together. The signs of the war were everywhere. As it were, the EVO was brimming with excitement for its 'first bus trip'.

That is, until it became bored, and after eating an entire bag of miniature powdered donuts fell asleep on Six's shoulder.

Six adjusted his new sunglasses and then peered out from under their rims at the creature snoring softly on his shoulder. There were traces of powdered sugar at the corners of its mouth. Six was lucky; no one should recognize this creature as an EVO, not without the right equipment. Rex appeared to be nothing more than a young boy.

He recalled the contract he had 'signed'. There were only three rules: he would protect Rex, help Rex reach his objective, and not break the contract. He had already realized that this was more than a simple agreement. Had Six wanted to turn Rex over to the authorities, he could not have. He understood that he would throw down his life if it meant the EVO would survive, and no matter the threat the objective posed against humanity, nothing would stand between it and his charge.

These facts were in direct opposition to Six's own beliefs and the plans he had made when he proposed the deal. He realized this, but he could dredge up no feelings of frustration or fear at his mind being thus manipulated. The new thoughts were seamless and all-encompassing; they might as well have been his own.

The contract would extend until the directive was accomplished. However, there was no sign that the EVO was aware of any of this. If it could still hear the high-pitched tone coming from the objective, it had not let Six know. Whatever the objective was, it lay somewhere in the vicinity of New York – there or beyond, given the EVO had been chasing it across multiple continents for the last year.

If Six took the EVO there, perhaps he could trigger something. If not, he could still accomplish his other mission without breaking the terms of the agreement. He would prevent this EVO from becoming a danger to mankind, prevent it from ever taking on its true form again, and in a small way, he would still be doing his part for humanity.

Six could not sleep, and soon morning approached. In the pre-dawn, mist rose from the many man-made ponds that dotted the landscape. Six shook the EVO's shoulder, and it woke blearily, rubbing its eyes.

"Qué…?"

"You should tell me if anything strange happens to you."

"Huh? Strange?"

"If you see or hear anything out of the ordinary. For example, a high-pitched noise that only you can hear."

The EVO straightened and frowned at him, wiping at the crusty corners of its mouth. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"I heard it might be a side-effect of amnesia."

The EVO squinted, concentrating, and then sighed. It smiled. "So far so good, Mister Six. Hey, um, I was wondering… When people turn into EVOs, what do you do to them?"

"The protocol is 'contain or kill'."

It shuddered and looked out the window into the misty world. "Got it." The EVO propped its elbow on the windowpane and leaned its head against a fist. "You're my bodyguard, huh? What happens if I become an EVO, too?"

"Try not to do that."

"You don't know anything about my past? Why are you protecting me?"

"Like I said, it's my job."

The EVO pouted; Six could see its reflection pursing its lips in the pane of glass.

The ex-agent tucked his head against his chest, knowing it would seem like he was asleep under his sunglasses. "We have a long trip. Try to get some rest."

The EVO rounded on him, gaping. "Didn't you just wake me up?" it cried. The other riders on the bus shifted. Some cracked open their eyes and glared at it. One person even raised a finger to their lips and hissed, "Shhh!"

"Sorry!" it whispered. It crossed its arms, closed its eyes, leaned its head back, peaked again at Six to make sure he was going to sleep, and relaxed into the bus seat. Within minutes, it was snoring again.