Author's Note/Disclaimer: Here's a story to explain a little bit of the back story about the stitchpunks in the cathedral before 9 awakens in its final, revised version. It later became a contest entry and is still one of my favorite shorts. I think that I also wrote this to prove that I do not only make 9 and 7 fluff, contrary to popular belief. :) I own nothing from "9", Shane Acker does. This is a fan production solomente. Enjoy!

*S. Snowflake.

Sunset

"One song,
Before the sun sets,
Glory - on another empty life.
Time flies - time dies." -Rent.

The dust swirled in the vast emptiness outside the cathedral. A striped stitchpunk creature stood by one of the wide, wide windows, gazing out at the ruins. He was concentrating on something more than just the landscape beyond him, for he appeared deeply in thought about something or another. The larger of this peculiar stitchpunk's optic lenses blinked open and shut twice, but not the smaller. He scratched at the yarn atop his head fervently with his inky hands, making him seem even more of an eccentric.

Lightly shuffling footsteps came up behind the striped stitchpunk, but he did not appear to notice them. An old stitchpunk with a slightly slumped posture and strings around his torso region appeared behind. He set aside his sight-improving magnifying lens in a friendly manner and spoke.

"Hello there, Six."

The striped fellow turned his head, but only to reply, "Hello, Two."

"Is there something interesting out there?" 2 asked, "Perhaps something to draw?"

6 shook his head and muttered, "He's coming."

2 put a finger to his chin. "He? Who is he?

6 only looked at 2 in a strange way, hoping that would suffice as an answer.

"Come now, Six. You have nothing to be afraid of."

A threatening grunt came from the corner by the huge stitchpunk 8, who was sharpening his blade. 2 paid him no mind however. "Is it that source you're always talking about?"

6 shook his head once more. "No, no. He's not the source-" 6 stopped and did not continue from there. No one ever listened to what he had to say about "the source." Even if he could try to explain the visions that plagued his conscience, he knew that it would sound like artistically mad ravings.

"What does he look like, Six?" 2 continued.

6 shut his eyes and thought deeply. "-Like one of us. I've only seen him a couple of times. He looks a lot like Five, but with no buttons."

"One of us? Do you mean that there is another one of us out there?" said 2, by now more than curious.

But 6 did not answer, and the elder's patience was running thin. "Six, please, try to speak, my boy."

6 looked over to 8 once again. The huge stitchpunk snarled threateningly and 6 refused to speak after that, no matter what 2 said.

2 sighed and began to walk away. "Well, you can tell me when you're ready."

2 had just reached the can elevator when 6 yelped, "Wait!" He ran to the old calendar on the back wall with three dates crossed off it, but 2 had already gone.

Feeling lost again, 6 shut his eyes and muttered to himself, "They're alive…"

Then 6 was silenced by the deep chuckling of 8, and he shuddered in fear of the brute's power. Scraping footsteps came from the corner of the chamber before a hoarse elderly voice said, "Nonsense."

2 was oblivious to the talk going on behind him. He made his way up to the watchtower, but pulling himself upward high above the main chamber proved to be quite a challenge in his advanced age. Once he had finally reached the top of the tower, he stepped out and caught his breath.

Another rag doll was there. This one was made of burlap and had two buttons on his front side. His face was turned away as he looked into the large telescope that he was assigned to, but he turned around eventually. Instead of the two optics that all of the other stitchpunks donned, this one only had one eye, the left one covered up by a brown patch of fabric.

"Two?" the younger stitchpunk asked, and ran over to help him walk. "You came up here by yourself again, didn't you?"

"I can handle it, my boy," 2 said and stood up more straight.

"You should have had Six or Eight help you."

"Five, when you get to be my age, you'll be sick of having favors done for you. You still desire your independence no matter what your age."

5 took the old stitchpunk's words of wisdom despite his own instinct to help him. "Why did you come up here, Two?"

"I just came to tell about you something Six said," replied the old stitchpunk. "He believes that someone's coming."

"The beast?" 5 asked with a nervous twitch at the thought. The great beast was always a threat to their kind, and so far, it had not found them in their sanctuary, though 5 knew that could easily change.

"No, no, I don't think so. He says that another one of us is coming."

"Another one of us?" 5 paused and added excitedly, "Maybe the lost ones?"

2 scratched his head. "I think he meant that there is another one of us out there. A new one of us that will come soon."

"So… you think there's another one out there? But how?"

2 shrugged. "I've seen some strange and wonderful things happen in this world."

"-And Six has said some very strange things too," 5 muttered.

"Perhaps he has, but has Six ever been wrong?"

5 paused, but gave in. "No, I guess that's true."

5 and 2 stopped talking and proceeded to watch the sun setting in the distance. The old stitchpunk smiled peacefully. "The sunset is always nice to watch, isn't it, Five? The end of one day and the start of another. It's just the natural cycle of things."

5 smiled back. 2 was more than just his mentor, he was almost like his father. Whenever the one-eyed doll felt frightened, he was glad to have the advice and support of wise 2 to help him get through whatever danger was troubling him. His one eye was no longer a handicap, for it was life without the elder that would be truly blinding.

After a while, 2 thought about returning to his workshop below the building. It was a daunting task upon his old body, even after his lecture to 5 about the strength of elders. "You know, as much as I would normally protest, would you mind helping me get to the workshop, Five?"

"Not at all, Two," 5 answered.

So the two builders took to the elevator can and descended to the bottom of the sanctuary. 5 switched on the Christmas lights that illuminated the workshop in warm yellow light in addition to the natural light from outside.

"Well, I've got lookout duty to get back to," 5 said, "I'll see you later, Two."

2 looked 5 in the eye before he could go, and said, with the utmost sincerity, "Take care, my boy."

5 wondered why 2 had been so intent on telling him to have a good day. But he guessed that there had to be a reason, even if he or 2 did not know it.

Once 5 had left the workshop, 2 reached behind the workbench in front of him, pulling away a tarp made of rags. The tarp covered up something that he had been working on for a long time. It was a round metal object with a clear sheet of glass over the top of one side that acted like a lens. From the back protruded some tiny wires. 2 held the object in his hands for a while before retrieving a set of cables and introducing the electricity into the wiring of his device. Through the transparent glass atop the device, 2 could see a large shutter mechanism fly open and take in the light, adjusting so that the photographic mechanisms inside would not be damaged.

2 fiddled with the wires continuously, checking that the shutter could make more complex movements with different currents, like opening halfway or shutting quickly. He was satisfied to find that this test run went perfectly.

At last, Five will have two eyes again, he thought, placing the new optic back underneath the tarp with a smile. I'll show the boy tomorrow and we can set the eye-

His thoughts were interrupted by two sets of footsteps in his workshop. The booming footsteps of 8 were what immediately caught his attention, but scraping, smaller footsteps accompanied those. 2 turned around to face the leader of the group, 1, who was standing in the doorway. It was a strange thought, but the old leader's staff took on a scythe shape in this light.

"Hello there, One," 2 greeted him. "I was just putting things away for the night…"

"Two," 1 interrupted dryly, "I came here to tell you that I have a task for you."

"Oh? Well, if you need something built, I can get Five and-"

As 2 began to move toward the door, 1 moved his staff in front of the door, blocking him. "It's not a building job I'm after," he said, and added, "and this is a job for you alone."

2 noticed the seriousness of 1's tone. When he looked up at 8, he thought he saw a hint of cruelty in his eyes. Shaking the fear off, he asked, "What kind of task do you have in mind?"

1 paced carefully around the workshop, not looking at 2 the entire time he spoke. "Nothing difficult, just a scouting mission. Five has told me that he has watched the beast's movements through the scope and that it is moving north. Now is the perfect time to scout the area for more safe havens and supplies."

"Five said that?" 2 asked. "He never told me anything about the beast."

"Do you doubt your apprentice, Two?" 1 asked, still not looking at him.

"No, no, I'd never doubt Five," 2 answered. "But I have one question. Why do you want me to do this?"

"Why wouldn't I?" 1 asked, smiling at 2 in a malicious fashion. " I seem to recall that you telling Six that there's nothing to be afraid of."

2 sighed internally. 1 had overheard his conversation with 6 and was now using that against him. Besides, if 5 had said that the area was safe, then it had to be true. "When am I to leave?"

1 blinked, but showed no emotion. "As soon as possible."

2 nodded. "I'll pack a few things and head out in the morning."

1 turned back around to 8 and the elevator beyond that, but added, "Make sure that no one else sees your departure, Two. We don't want anything or anyone to spoil this mission." Just as he was about to head back up to the sanctuary, 1 turned back to say, "I know that you won't disappoint me."

2 subdued his suspicion for the moment. "Of course not, old friend."

And as he stood there alone, an icy chill ran up 2's skeletal armature. The colors of the sunset flooding into the room were a deep red, like blood. The long shadows of the tools on the walls took on shapes of the teeth and claws of the mighty beast, ready to seize 2 as prey. His inner logic screamed for him to remember that his imagination was his worst enemy, but another sense told him to think otherwise. The most basic of instincts were overtaking him now: to flee or to fight for his life.

Taking a good, long breath, 2 only thought about what 6 had said.

"He is coming."