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the receptionist, clad in gym trainer uniform, quickly complies. he thumbs a series of numbers and lifts the phone. the pulsing beat of workout music is silenced as a PA system crackles to life.[break][break]

noah to reception. noah to reception.[break][break]

eventually, the sound of sneakers squeaking against rubber flooring furrets its way through the cacophany of weights and resumed pop music. ever since Adrian Malcolm's traitorous turn, TERAVOLT hasn't been on the airwaves here.[break][break]

noah arrives. skids to a stop before leaning on the counter with his elbow.[break][break]

"did i forget about a challenge or— oh!" the gym leader's head jolts back from the weight of a surprised smile. "rowan? long time no see!"[break][break]

the absence of TERAVOLT becomes more apparent above.

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life had been complicated, indeed, for it had only been a little while since the diversion of 99943 METENO. the return to "ordinary" days felt surreal, as if stepping into a fog of war that refused to peel away.[break][break]

though the topology of the universe had begun to unfurl, life still felt tangled and knotted. like the soggy hair collected in the valley of a drain catcher forever flattened by the deluge of time.[break][break]

"sure buddy." noah says. he wonders if the thick air is a product of december's chill, or the glaring red R on an imagined Adrian Malcolm. "i've got time."[break][break]

he brings them to a different office. one that does not overlook the gym, but one more for paperwork. filing. reports. more private. more close.[break][break]

when rowan enters, noah would close the door.[break][break]

"everything okay, man?"

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"what?"[break][break]

the room seems to minimize at rowan's confession. beneath noah's feet, the floor plunges several stories. every corner of the room contracts like a shuckle sucking in its limbs.[break][break]

in the vacuum of revelation, it is cold. so cold. and in that coldest of spaces, cobra returns. the machamp lands on a knee, eyes closed, before standing to full attention, its beaked smile an emblem of some providence.[break][break]

it is at this time, noah's throat pines for water. he swallows dry, but his eyes are anything but. he takes a few steps toward cobra before he seizes his first partner back into his shaking arms.[break][break]

however, the union does not last long. noah braces his hand against the machamp's chest. with a heavy footfall, he launches himself at rowan.[break][break]

"you!"[break][break]

he swings a hard punch toward rowan's face before attempting to barrel the entirety of his weight against him. noah hopes to bring them both to the floor.[break][break]

"you think it's that easy?!" another fist is raised.

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Noah can't help but throw another punch. The other's sobs are deafened by the terrible fire charring his throat. His chest.[break][break]

It's a tantalizing feeling. To be burned from the inside out. To release flames contained so long within the furnace of his mortal cage.[break][break]

But a newly revived hand holds his shoulder tight. Stills him enough so that his senses sharpen and refocus. It isn't blood on his knuckles, but tears.[break][break]

"How... how'd you get him back?" Noah asks. His fists are now at Rowan's chest, balling up the fabric of his top. "Why?!"

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noah has heard of the happenings at mt. pyre. the supernatural streaming through some slit in space-time, or whatever the fuck it was, noah didn't care. such a spectacular story horrified him. [break][break]

what forces were they tampering with? meddling with with their dirty, mortal hands?[break][break]

"an accident," noah echoes.[break][break]

his machamp makes a noise of confirmation, and briefly, the gym leader falls silent.[break][break]

"how can i believe that?" noah mutters quietly. it's more to himself: a monastic whisper underneath an averted gaze.[break][break]

he faces rowan straight on, hands still tight around his shirt.[break][break]

"are you with them?"

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the regret of impulse stings his knuckles. noah's heart can not help but pang with the painful resonance of sympathy. rowan's tone matches the frequency enough, the stuttering and disconnection of his voice causes pause.[break][break]

but noah does not soften his features. he remains scrutinizing and scowling. noah fights against being convinced as hard as he can, for a lie would mean the beating would have been justified doubly so.[break][break]

"the ranger?" noah says more to himself.[break][break]

the gym leader lets rowan go. hands release the other's clothes as if casting aside a dirty rag. noah stands back up, struggling to steayd his breath.[break][break]

"thanks for bringing him back." the machamp makes a noise of gratitude. "but don't think for a second that i trust you. if you're gonna escape, you better do it fast. they're gonna hunt you down... and if you're lying? i'll do the same."

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there was some comfort found in rowan's words. they weren't empty, hollowed out declarations. no, rowan had laid out a plan. all noah had to do was see if he followed it through.[break][break]

"bye rowan." the gym leader manages to say.[break][break]

briefly, shame shrivels his stance. noah stares at his fists, scrutinizing the red, raw skin. [break][break]

before noah can lose himself in them, his machamp holds his hands. covers them with its own.[break][break]

"i'll be waiting. waiting for you to show me."