Alex watched the man turn away. Garrick lay on the ground, no longer moving, no longer attacking. His shoulders burned as blood leaked through his jacket. The man paused, not turning to face Alex, yet not leaving either. Alex had the sense he would wait for just a few moments.

"Don't take this as forgiveness," Alex whispered, kneeling beside Garrick and turning his helm.

A dent above the visor marred the black helm, but the bullet hadn't penetrated the armor. Not that Alex had expected a bullet to break through the knight's armor. The words escaped him, but he felt it was made with technology far above what he had seen on Grim Aegis. He tapped on the helm a couple of times and waited.

"Ergh." Garrick groaned, confirming he was at least still alive.

"Alright," Alex said, standing up and extending his arm.

Whir. Thump.

He caught his pipe as it flew to his hand, staring down the alleyway after the mysterious man. The man started walking again once he caught up, not saying a word as he led Alex out into the street and down the road. The older man was faster than he looked, and Alex had to work his legs to keep up.

"Not to be ungrateful, but where are we going?"

"As far away from that knight as we can get," the man said, spitting as he paused at an intersection. "I got him because I surprised him. I don't want to take a bastard like that in a straight fight."

"Yeah." Alex shook his head. "I know that from experience."

If it wasn't for the haze, he might be able to say how many times he had fought Garrick. However, that malaise wasn't going away anytime soon. Alex already knew he would wake up in the same position in the morning, unsure how many days he had been trapped in Grim Aegis. Would Garrick come back the next night, ready to fight again? He hadn't knocked Garrick out before, so he couldn't know.

"Do you remember me?" the man asked as he led Alex toward the edge of the level.

Alex gripped the metal pipe, his gift lighting up the world around him. He hadn't gotten the opportunity yet, but he might be able to deflect a bullet if he needed to. He didn't need another random antagonist coming after him on a daily basis, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"Should I?"

The old man paused on the edge of the railing, looking out over the tiers below them and into the mist. Alex took in a deep breath as he gathered magnetic power in his hand. Electric pulses ran from his heart to his hand and back again as he poured more will into it. He kept his eyes on the man.

"No one remembers." The old man shook his head, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. "That's the problem. I do, but that's because of my curse."

Click. Puff.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and lit it. Alex waited as he took a deep drag from the cigarette. When he was done, he blew out a stream of smoke into the night. He tapped the cigarette against the railing before turning to face Alex again.

"What do you think is happening here?" he asked.

Alex narrowed his eyes, releasing his hold on the magnetic ball in his hand. The man was not going to shoot him, though. Considering that he had helped Alex in the alley, he could afford to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I wish I knew," Alex said. "Every day since the first has been the same thing, with only minor changes. Everyone I talk to will tell me the same thing, only to repeat it the next day. I feel like I can push against it, but when I do, it just pushes back and smothers me."

"But you know your name." The man took another puff.

"Alexander Ortega, Alex for short." Alex nodded.

"And those people you go and talk to. You know them, right?"

Alex narrowed his eyes. The old man had been watching him. That didn't sit well with him, even if the old man had helped him. What gain was there in keeping tabs on some vagrant?

"I do."

"You ever think about that in all these days?" The man tapped his cigarette on the railing again, knocking away some ash. "Why do you know these random people in this city and no one else?"

"If I knew the answer to that, I might not be stuck here." Alex clenched his fists.

He might be able to reach the old man before he could draw his gun. Something about the mustache-twirling man was setting him off. It was like he was mocking Alex with his questions.

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"This is what I'm left with, isn't it?" the old man sighed, tossing away his cigarette. "I come here and get caught up in this web. I look for help to get out, and I see you."

He shook his head before pulling out another cigarette and lighting it up.

"Is there a point to all of this, or are you just going to keep insulting me? I can go back to fighting the knight. At least that would have been over faster than all of this."

"I'm getting to it," the old man said, puffing his cigarette again. "I don't even know if this is going to work."

"What are you going to do?"

The old man looked at him with his cold, dark eyes. He took a long drag of his cigarette again, then removed it from his lips and blew out a long plume of smoke. He tapped it against the railing one more time before he pushed himself up, reaching out one hand for a handshake.

"I'm Charles Bolton," he said. "I'm here for the same reason you are: It's the only way into the Core. We both got caught with our pants down and now we need each other to get out."

Alex watched the hand with a raised eyebrow.

"You want to shake hands."

"My curse don't work on things I don't touch."

Alex looked down at the hand and hesitated. He had no idea what the man's curse could do to him. He had heard of curses, mainly because they were part of Jean's rotating lectures he did in the park. They could do many things, some good, some bad. He once thought his particular ability was one but had never understood how it could relate to the metal device in his chest.

"You think you can't trust me?" the man asked. "I didn't have to save you back in that alley. I didn't have to bring that heat on me. If I wanted you dead, I could have let that knight finish the job."

He wasn't wrong, and Alex didn't have a good comeback. The fact was that he would be dead if Charles hadn't intervened. Alex reached out his hand and grasped the old man's gloves.

What was the worst that could happen?

Charles tightened his grip around Aled's palm in a tight handshake, his leather glove creaking as he did so. Alex returned the firm grip, not to be outdone. They shook each other's hands up and down for a few moments, maintaining eye contact.

"See, nothing bad so far," Charles said. "Reject."

Crack.

Sharp pain cracked across Alex's mind like lightning. Light tried to explode out of his mind, covering his vision in a hot flash before quickly dissipating. Seconds after the lighting, a cooling mist wrapped around his mind, trying to seal it closed.

"What was that?" Alex tried to pull away from Charles's grip, but it was too strong.

"It might take a few tries." Charles shook his head. "I haven't tried this on anyone else yet. Reject."

Crack.

Alex dropped to one knee, his arm the only thing maintaining his balance as he went down. His left arm rested on the ground, completely limp, and his head dropped as light again cracked across his vision.

The mist returned immediately after, sealing the light away and returning his vision to normal. Alex staggered but held himself up on one knee. He blinked a few times as he tried to regain his sense of self and location.

"Stop," a small voice whispered.

"How about one more?" Charles said, his grip an unbending iron vice holding Alex up. "Reject."

Crack.

Light cracked across his mind, extending all across his skull from top to bottom. Alex couldn't tell if Charles was using his curse or had cracked his skull open with a pipe. He half-expected his brain to slosh out onto the ground.

"There we go."

The mist shrank back from the light, no longer strong enough to push it back. Alex was subsumed in the light in moments, and a flood of ideas returned to him.

He knew who he was.

"Crap."

Alex ripped his hand out of Bolton's grip, putting it against the ground to keep his balance as he gathered himself. Bolton, for his part, didn't try to stop Alex. He merely backed off to the railing and lit another cigarette.

He was Alexander 'Tin Man' Ortega. He was an outlaw on the run from the Military Police. He was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina. He had graduated from Columbia University with a major in political science. He was from a world called Earth but trapped in this strange land interchangeably called the nightsea, Erth, or the Empyrean. All he wanted to do was return home and see his family again.

Which was why he was on Grim Aegis with his crew.

'Sword Saint' Sayed was a master swordsman from a world called Hajh. Erin 'Thorn Queen' Leah was a spy for the People's Revolution, originally from a world called Erys. Jean Baptiste, 'the Reanimator,' was from Erth and was obsessed with his reanimated wife under his control. Li Wen was a bounty hunter from Earth, just like Alex.

He remembered all of them, though, considering his actions, he hadn't completely forgotten.

"Is it all coming back to you?"

Alex furrowed his brows, searching his memory and trying to piece it all together. There were too many blank spots. He knew their names, but everything else was fuzzy. How had they all gotten here? That was a massive black space in his mind.

"Not all of it," Alex said, forcing himself onto his feet. "But I do remember you now."

Bolton's hand was on his revolver as Alex stared him down. Alex remembered the man from Dry Turtle. He had murdered his partner in cold blood with a gun up to the guy's head. Alex had stopped him from going on a rampage on the waiter.

"Is it going to be a problem?" Bolton asked. "I can take it away and find someone else willing to shoot straight with me."

Alex didn't need to ask what would happen to his rediscovered self if Bolton turned off his curse. All of his memories would be locked away again, leaving him trapped in the same cycle he had been. He couldn't help out his crew in that state, much less himself.

"We can get along for now," Alex said, and Bolton took his hand off his gun. "What's our situation?"

"I have no idea." Bolton smiled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leaned back on the rail. "I came here and got caught up in the mist. When I woke up, I couldn't remember a lick of what happened the night before. Stumbled on my curse again by accident and activated it. That tore through the mist around my mind and woke me up to this messed up island around me."

"That's less than helpful." Alex sighed.

"That's why I needed me some help, and you seemed like you would fit the bill. That is unless you're saying you're not as smart as I was led to believe."

Alex rubbed at his eyes, holding up his free hand with one finger to signal to give him a minute. He didn't know what was happening, but that didn't mean he couldn't figure it out. He just needed some time to think.

"We're going to have to skulk around for some answers," Alex said, taking away his finger. "Can your curse work on more people?"

"Only myself and one other thing at a time." Bolton shrugged. "Normally, I use it on my bullets to make sure they aren't interfered with."

"Noted," Alex said. "Come on. We might as well get started."

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