Part 1: Dawn

Daylight. In the murky universe between sleep and wake, Nijubu could feel the early morning pushing into his darkened vision. The sounds of birds were there, somewhere, in the distance, mixing with the sounds of—what were they called here?—wind chimes. Po-tee-wheet? Po-tee-wheet? The birds asked him and one another endlessly. He didn't have an answer.

I don't even understand the question.

His mind was adrift. The insanity of his subconscious finally began to fade as the angel pulled open his eyes and let the light invade his mind. He inhaled deeply, the world on its side, as he searched for the right way up. Warmth. He was on the couch, a heavy fleece blanket surrounding his body. The television was a vague mumble in the background. He had left it on again. No matter. But...

He was back in his apartment. Why wasn't he at the warehouse with the other Acid Hackers? Time and memories were a blur. He fought against the remnants of dreams as he attempted to collect himself. His body shifted under the blanket. No. Not his.

What?

"Izza mornin yet?"

Cam moaned softly and shifted again. Cam. Chameos. Chameos?! Memories were still a blur. Everything a fucking blur.

Nijubu resorted to sheer force of will and finally pulled himself from the grasp of his subconscious. Right. The grocery store. Running. A week. They had been living together for the past week. Any other recollections that may have come were suddenly cut off when words from the television cleared and resounded throughout his waking mind. The angel's vision immediately clarified as he stared with growing horror at the news flash that appeared on the screen.

"Oh my...God."

______________________


One week ago.

Nijubu inhaled deeply, the old bed screeching noisily underneath. Eyes closed, he winced and turned onto his back.

"Mmm, daylight yet?" he asked no one in particular.

"Almost," no one in particular responded.

"Kay..."

Realization struck. Nij opened his eyes and shouted at the smiling face that loomed on top of his. He closed his eyes again and grimaced, breathing heavily.

"Time to wakey, bro!"

"Go to hell, Jerry."

The angel threw Jeremy onto the floor of the warehouse with a heavy thud before pulling himself out of bed. He was glad that he finally convinced the guys to start robbing smart. A few nights ago they managed to break into a used furniture store in the ghetto. It was a start. Nij ran a hand through his hair and stretched.

"Stu fix breakfast yet?"

An arm shot up from the floor and grabbed onto the opposite side of the bed for leverage.

"He's fixing it. It'll be a few minutes if you want bacon with your eggs."

Jeremy pulled himself to his feet and rubbed the lump on the side of his head gently. Nij shrugged half-heartedly as he clipped Desertman to his boxers and walked off.

In the center of the large warehouse, where the "living room" was, the other boys aside from Stuart were gathered around the massive TV, all still in their pajamas. Matt and Jake sprawled on their respective sides of the couch, Bubbleman and the other Navis watched from a portable monitor nearby, and Johnny lay on his stomach on the floor with his feet in the air.

"Morning Nijjie!"

"Morning, Floofie," Nij smiled back. "Don't talk with your mouth full, you're leaking cereal."

Nij sat on the floor, his back against the front of the couch. Johnny wiped his mouth off and scooted into Nij's lap. Jeremy joined soon after, leaping over the back and landing between Jake and Matt. Time passed in silence save for the Saturday morning cartoons.

"BREAKFAST!"

There was a slight calm in the air, as if before a storm. Stuart, an apron over his pajamas, leapt back from the table as the five boys rushed around it. He shook his head before diving in himself. Breakfast was always a noisy affair, especially on weekends.

"Geeze, can't you put a shirt on for breakfast at least once?"
"Tell that to Matt."
"Hey! I happen to be getting a few manly muscles, for your information!"
"Right, and Jeremy's growing facial hair."
"AHAHAHAHA...! Wait, that's me." *Smack*
"Ow."
"MY BACON!"
"Damn it, I saw it first!"
"Both of you calm down. It's mine."
*Smack*
*Smack*
"Ow. Why do people keep hitting me?"
"Mrrrfmfrmrrf."
"I told you, don't talk with your mouth full."
"Mr'm mrry."
"Good kitty."

Before long, war had been waged, the table had been ravaged, and the eggs, bacon, ham, hash browns, and various other edible factions surrendered peacefully.

"BELCH."

Applause.

"Nice one."

"Thank you."

Silence. The boys looked round at one another warily.

"DIBS ON SHOWER!"

"Damn it, I was gonna call!"

The others muttered agreement and groaned in dismay as Nijubu leapt up victoriously. So much for the hot water.

"Where are you in a rush to be on a Saturday morning, anyway?"

Nij glanced slyly at Jake.

"Oh, nowhere in particular. Maybe downtown or something."

He smiled and bounced off, happily humming a showtune on his way to the bathroom, leaving the others to stare after him.

______________________


Well, life is (too short) so love the one you got
'Cuz ya might get run over or ya might get shot

An impossibly long and thin young man strode down the sidewalk amongst the morning crowds. Never straying from his path, people moved out of his way almost subconsciously. No one took much notice of him or gave him a second look, showy as he was. Yellow spandex shirt, baggy orange parachute pants, bright blue sneakers and denim bucket hat, he bounded from step to step in time with the music from his micro-CD player. The PET at his side began to beep, and a raspy electronic voice came over his earphones.

<You look stupid in that hat.>

"No one asked you, sandman."

<What? And you didn't notice the guys staring at you when you left?>

Nij laced his hands behind his head.

"They were awestruck by my awesomeness."

Desertman muttered something unintelligible as Nij walked on.

<You're becoming too human.>

"I'll take that as a compliment."

<Where are we going, anyway?>

The angel sighed lightly.

"Getting away. As nice as I am, I can only stand humans for so long. You saw breakfast, didn't you?"

<How accommodating of you. You ate as much as anyone else did.>

"Bleh. My point exactly."

Silence.

<I see. You really are afraid of becoming like them.>

Nijubu didn't answer. The Navi had obviously struck some nerve deep within him, and an awkward moment passed.

<Sorry.>

"No, it's okay, you were right. But is that so wrong? I'm supposed to be detached from them. I'm supposed to keep some distance between the mortals and myself. Lest I—"

<Lest you what? Become them? Come to love them? Master Nijubu, you can't live in this plane and expect to stay apart from everyone forever. You were sent as a protector for that boy; some attachment is expected, because without it you're not who you should be. Created by God—or the One, or Whomever—you're inevitably bound to every other living thing in the Universes.>

Nij chuckled.

<Sir?>

His chuckle turned to laughter.

"I don't think I've ever heard of a religious Navi."

Desertman stammered.

<I'm not saying I believe any of it. But it's damn hard to dispute it with a reputed angel as my operator.>

"Right."

The operator and Navi moved on through the daybreak of the concrete jungle.

__________________


When you are finished scanning your items, press here to checkout.

He pressed there.

Please select payment option.

Credit.

Please swipe your card.

He swiped.

Error. Please see an associate for assistance.

He swiped again.

Error. Please see an associate for assistance.

"The fuck?"

He swiped a third time.

Error. Please see an as—

And again. The same message appeared. The boy kicked his grocery cart, and several people momentarily turned to stare. The Navi at his side beeped worriedly, but he ignored it. He turned back to the automatic supermarket checkout machine and began swearing at it. A store manager in a red smock hurried up to him.

"I'm sorry, sir, is there a problem?"

Red-faced, the boy in glasses pointed at the machine.

Error: Card-read error. This card has been cancelled by company.

"Your machine's fucked up. It says my card is bad."

The balding middle-aged man in the red smock began to sweat. He didn't need this. Ever since the local head office asked him to transfer to Crescent City, all he'd had was trouble. Just the other day, there was quite a show when young punks nearly robbed him blind; those free agents that showed up just in time were no better. It had taken him days to get the place back in order. And now, on reopening day, another little shit was threatening to explode because he couldn't control his spending habits.

"Well, sir (he emphasized the sir as sarcastically as possible, but the boy didn't notice), if you would please turn to your right and walk through those glass doors, I believe both our problems will be solved. Thank you, and have a nice day."

The manager turned to walk away.

Twitch.

"Eheh. Eheheh. Have a nice day, he says."

The boy reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out a massive handgun. There was a loud crash and shower of sparks as the auto checkout exploded. From there, it was as though time momentarily froze. Everyone in the store turned and stared in silence. The manager's face slowly, painfully contorted, and for a moment, he looked constipated.

"Not again."

All hell broke loose. Most people screamed and ran. Some dove to the floor. Others saw their chance in the ensuing confusion and pilfered the shelves. Anger turned to anxiety, and anxiety to fear, as the boy felt the terror of the people around him. He turned and fled towards the exit. He crashed heavily into an immobile object and fell to the floor. Confused, he looked up into the frigid glare of another.

"N-Nij?"

"Chameos."

He spoke the Prince's name with a deep, unhurried disappointment. An alarm went off somewhere. Nij jerked his head up, then grabbed Cam and bodily lifted him to his feet.

"Run."

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