The early morning in Naya City clung to the embrace of pre-dawn. Inside the Luxia Hotel, Lofo, Catra, and Rod's exhausted breaths filled their rooms.
The Ice Giant fight had left them completely depleted, and this was a well-deserved rest day for them. Though, not everyone could afford such a luxury.
The engineering team was already mobilizing outside the hotel's entrance.
They moved with the quiet efficiency of seasoned professionals, gathering their equipment and heading towards a large van nearby, ready to transport them to the airport outside the city spiral.
Among them, two figures stood out.
"Let me help you, grandpa," Onin's voice cut through the air.
He placed his own bags beside the van and moved to the back of Borok's wheelchair.
"About time, sunny," the old man rumbled.
A faint smile creased the weathered lines around his mouth.
"Don't want you to trip and fall," the boy chuckled.
To Onin's surprise, Borok laughed too.
"Oh, wow! I'm gonna fire you when we get back to base, then rehire you to polish the whole SkyEye on your own!"
The boy nervously laughed.
"Please… please don't do that."
Before their playful banter could continue, a subtle shift in the air caught the old man's eye. Borok's gaze drifted to his right and saw one of Alf's machine bodies gleaming faintly, barely visible in the dim, pre-dawn light.
Borok knew Alf was looking at him. And for some reason, a ripple of visceral emotion shot through the machine: A burning sensation of jealousy mingled with anger. The phantom echo of resentment… from a wound that refused to heal.
"You have something to say?!" Borok exclaimed.
The man quickly signaled Onin to halt the wheelchair. To his surprise, Alf remained still until walking toward the hotel entrance.
"That's what I thought, you goddamn failure…"
The words were a private curse, though, Alf's auditory sensors caught them. The machine immediately stopped and clenched his hands into fists. He could feel it… an almost imperceptible tremor that ran through his frame and put pressure on top of him.
Those damning words tore through his circuits like a corrosive acid, over and over again.
"YOU ARE A FAILURE!"
"YOU USELESS PIECE OF TRASH!"
"YOU COULDN'T SAVE HER!"
The painful refrain echoed through Alf's mind once more and ignited a virtual fury that flared within his core.
He wanted to give in to his anger and his fear… but he couldn't. Showing him his superiority was the way to truly overcome that feeling. Thus, he chose to push past the pain and enter the hotel.
"What was that about?" Onin asked in genuine confusion.
He vaguely knew that Borok and Alf had suffered a fallout some time ago, yet the true reasons remained a mystery.
There were always fleeting glimpses of happier times in his mind… images of laughter and camaraderie. Only the moment of their falling out was a blank… a missing piece of his own history.
"Let's get going," Borok finally responded, his eyes still focused on the empty space where Alf had stood.
Onin sensed a deeper, unresolved current.
"Do you wanna talk about it? I mean… weren't you two friends when I was younger? What happened to you, grandpa?"
"No," The old man said with a colder tone.
Before long, he gripped the armrests of his wheelchair and sighed.
"Let's just get going."
The pain of the past was raw… too profound… too deeply ingrained to articulate. And it was a burden he would carry alone.