The sun beat down on the young man, as he traveled through the everlasting desert. The majority of his body was wrapped up in a brown, tattered and dirty cloak, his short, brown haired head poking out of it. His current travels had him in one of the more boring parts of the desert that the world had become, nothing but sand and rocks, and the occasional bunch of bones, usually picked clean by animals. At least, the young man hoped it was animals, and that went for both the bones and the ones who cleaned them. This is why he never gave this much of a look, it wouldn't do him well to be proved wrong on that point.

He covered his eyes with a single hand, looking forward. He had seen what he thought was a town about fifteen minutes ago, and was making his way there, giving it a hard look every couple of moments. He thought that, if he kept an eye on it, it wouldn't turn out to be a mirage. He knew it was silly, but it calmed his nerves enough to let him keep on. And when he entered the town, he reached forward, lightly touching the closest building. He felt wood, hot under the noon sun, and let out a sigh of relief, one he didn't realize he was holding in for the past fifteen minutes. With a small smile, he move forward, looking around the town.

After about half a hour's walk of looking around, he had found it was a small place. Two bars, a trade house, a small hotel, and some cluster of housings. Probably not the place he was looking for, but the sort of place he could find info. He got onto his knees, talking off his cloak and stuffing it into a large travel bag he had, picking it up and sling it over his shoulder, revealing his small and weak figure. His clothing, like the cloak, was tattered and filthy, a white shirt and olive cargo pants, with an olive cargo vest and shoes that were so worn down that could barely be called clothing. Not exactly the kind of person who should have been traveling by himself, that much was for sure, but a person who obviously was. He had a small slouch to his posture as he walked, nervously looking side to side, being careful to walk away from any passing people.

He then reached the trade house once more, and took a deep breath. Placing a hand on it's wooden door, it pushed, opening it, and walked in, seeing two men in a the middle of a business transaction.

"Alright, Mr. Leons, here's the agreed payment. Fifty coins, and a fee drink at the Lizard Head bar." The one behind a counter, covered with various times for sale, said, handing the other man fifty metal coins and a note, presumably to the barkeeper of the mentioned bar.

The boy took a breath, and stepped forward, holding up his hand.

"Uhh...h-hello." He said, flinching as the shopkeeper took a look at him. "Ah, a customer, I presume? What do you need, boy? I'm going to presume...clothes." He said, in a jolly manner. He looked at the boy, wondering if he had money to pay. From the look of the boy, those of a frail, scared child, he could only presume not. But, if he had drove out everybody who looked like they could give him nothing, he would have nothing.

"U-Uh..." The boy muttered, closing his blue eyes. "I-Information." He squeaked out, the shopkeeper smiling. "Ahh, information, my most valuable commodity. I have much of it, perhaps some of it would be of use to you? So, child, what do you need to know?"

"A-A person. A little kid, with black hair, should be about 10 years old." The boy answered. "Four y-years younger than me." He added. The shopkeeper thought it over, before shaking his head. "Sorry, child, but I can't think I know of anybody like that...ah, Mr. Leons, you travel often, do you not? Have YOU seen the child the boy is looking for? Boy, what is his name?" If one was to ask him, the shopkeeper would be honest, and admit he had a soft spot for children, to explain why he was putting in more effort than just telling the boy "no" when he didn't know. But, there was also the fact if he helped, he would still get paid, even if he had to ask for a discounted price.

Alex glanced at the kid, his single gray eye taking in his appearance. The older man was in his late twenties, at the earliest, and was of above average height and a muscular build. With his short and disheveled brown hair, one almost couldn't see the permenant red burn mark on his forehead, which looked like someone took a cross out of a church and shoved it in his face while it was red-hot for whatever reason. His right eye was covered up in bandages, hiding half of his face as a result. As for his outfit, it was composed of light-weight tan pants that made their way into his steel-tip boots (in order to prevent sand from making it into his clothes as easily), a light gray shirt, and a dusty brown coat that reached his ankles to protect most of his body from the sun. At first glance, one would say he was intimidating. But like the shopkeeper, he's got a soft spot for kids. "You're going to have to be a little more precise," he said, his voice gruff both from habit and because he's really thirsty right now. "I've seen quite a few kids that match that description, so you'll need to give me something a little more unique to him or at least a name."

"O-oh." The boy muttered, nodding. He was a bit frighten of the man, who did not look the least bit friendly to him. Part of him was hoping the kid he was looking for hadn't met the man. "Ezekiel Zwei." He said. "He's m-my brother." He said, slipping into a German accent, his nervousness getting to him. "There you go, Mr. Leons, Ezekiel Zwei."

Outside, a man was leaning on a house nearby, eying the trade house. A simple black, buttoned up shirt and blue jeans were his clothing, with dirty blond hair cover a scarred up face. He had been checking this place out for a while, and knew today was the day. He moved towards the building, a weapon materializing in his hand. A pistol, with dark red design etched into the barrel. Get in, grab whateer money he has, get out of town. Nice and easy, not a bullet fired.

He took a bath to calm himself down, then threw open the door, holding out the gun. A quick curse shot from his mouth as he saw two others, forcing him to change his plans. "HANDS UP!" he yelled, as the boy yelled out. He reached out, grabbing him and pulled him back, jabbing the gun into the boy's back.

His eyes went from Alex to the shopkeeper, mentally cursing. "Don't move. Take out the money, give it to him-" He nodded towards Alex. "-You give it to me, I leave, and everybody is happy and fine." He said, the boy shaking in fear, his face pale.

"..." Alex didn't say anything. "Did you just put a gun to a child?" He asked. He fixed a glare at the would-be robber, one that seemed to bore right into the man's soul. It was as if he was measuring the man's worth as a human being, and finding him close to worthless. The raw intensity of the glare felt like the bandit wasn't the one holding someone at gunpoint, but someone who had a knife to his throat. It was at that point that he'd realize that this was the glare of someone who was beyond **** off, someone who had just seen something absolutely unforgiveable. The carrier vaguely noted that the shopkeeper didn't say anything yet, but he wrote that off as him knowing that their new 'friend' just made a grave mistake.

The (would-be) robber gulped, closing his eyes. "Yes, I did." He admitted, pulling the trigger. The boy's heart stopped, his eyes widening and his irises growing smaller. "I'm dead" ran through his again and again and again, expecting to feel the metal shooting through him any second. But the feeling never came, as it moved through him like a ghost, not even his clothing moving. As soon as it passed through him, it formed a physically body, moving towards Alex.

It, however, hit the wall to his side. "But, don't think I plan on shooting him." He said, his voice still calm, the boy freaking out in his hand, asking how did he do that and begging him to let him go. The man grimaced, knowing that was going to be a fight of wills. Whoever back down first was the winner.

"Phantom bullets eh?" Alex mumbled. "They are only solid when you want them to be. Good for when you want to avoid hitting something you don't want to hit. Not exactly the kind of nuke you'd expect a robber to use. Especially not one who'd use a kid as a human shield. Hmph, at least you're slightly better then complete scum." Folding his arms in front of his chest, he measured his glare at the man as he slowly walked forward. "Don't be stupid. Let the kid go, and leave. If you don't, I'm not going to hold back. You're not the only one with a nuke in the room after all." He stopped, staring the man in the eye. At this range, the guy literally could not miss. "I'll give you to the count of five to back down. If you don't, I'll break both your arms so that you can't exploit those weaker then you ever again." In his left hand, a revolver appeared. Attached to the barrel was a short blade, only about as long as a dagger. The handle of the gun was the typical wood brown color you'd expect from a wild west setting, and dangling from it was a bit of silver chain with a silvery bullet at the end. "1... 2... 3... 4..."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

The boy ripped out of the robber's arms causing him to stumble back. Alright, he couldn't blame the kid, and this was a bust anyways. He would jsut take his lost, a single bullet, and leave. He stepped backwards, moving his arm tot he side, when the boy whipped around, his eyes glowing purple. "The hell!?" The robber asked, as the boy leapt forwards, tackling him to the ground. An unhuman roared came from the boy as he teared into the man with his nails, getting kneed away.

"A...a syker! That kid's a freak!" The robber yelled, a look of anger crossing his face. "I should have shot you where you stood!" He roared, opening fire on him, any calmness he had melting away. More roars came from the boy as the bullets struck him, causing him to stumble.

The shopkeeper, during all of this, was behind his counter, keeping calm. Mr. Leons was the tough sort, so he was waiting for him to act before he got worried.

"5!" Alex said, now behind the robber with his gun at the guy's shoulder, the one attached to the arm holding the nuke. He then fired, impaling his shoulder with a blade. Spinning on his heel, he brought his boot into the guy's side and sent him flying into the wall. Calmly walking up to the guy, he kicked the man in the chest, pinning him to the wall with the steel-toe boot, and likely breaking a few ribs. "Did you forget what I said before?" He asked. "And don't even think about using the fact the kid's a Syker as an excuse. You didn't know when you grabbed him, when you used him as a hostage. Don't bother with claiming he's a freak either. Sykers are humans, that's all there is to it. It's idiots like you who give them more grief then they deserve." Letting the man go, he grabbed him by the shirt, and dragged him to his feet. "Run," he ordered. "RUN!" He then roared after a second.

The robber grasped for breathing, actually being smart and running off.

"Mr. Leons, some help?" The shop keeper said, putting away a gun. The boy had collapsed, an tranquilizer sticking out of his neck. THe shopkeeper went out to the open area of the trade house, picking up the boy. "I'm out of shape, you carry him." He said, taking out the tranq and handing the boy to Alex. "I have a cot in the back for when things like these happen, put him there."
---

"W...what happened?" the boy asked, opening his eyes and looking around, shivering. "My head hurts....." he said, sitting up. The last thing he remembered was that man with a single eye counting down, then everything went black. Well, technically, purple.

"Right... You really should start exercising one of these day," Alex commented, easily carrying the kid. Without another word, he headed for the back.
---
"Are you feeling better now?" He asked, pouring a glass of water and handing it to Alan. "I've seen some serious fight or flight responses in the past, but that was the first time I've seen someone go completely nuts on an adrenaline rush." Pouring himself a glass, he sat on a chair near the boy. "Drink up, you've got to be pretty thirsty after all that." As he looked at the kid, he saw nothing of the berserker from earlier. Hell, all he saw was a kid who was scared out of his mind, afraid of his own shadow if you will. A kid who honestly didn't look like he should be outside of three feet of his hometown at anytime, he looked that weak and helpless.

The boy nodded, slowly drinking the water, not looking away from the man for even an instant. "T-thank you." He muttered, setting the glass down. Silence filled the room, as he stared at the men, before decided to ask the thing that was tearing at his mind.

"D....did I kill him?"

He closed his eyes as soon as the words left his lips, fear and nervousness gripping his body. He had to have killed him, that's why he was here. They were going to send him to jail or something, of course. If he didn't, they would just throw him out into the desert to die, but no, they wanted to punish him first, that had to be it. That what he deserved, after all, punishment, for being a freak.

"I...I'm sorry! I d-didn't mean to!" He cried out, grabbing his arms and shaking. He was a kid, and the man had jumped to his defense, and in the back of his mind, the boy knew it, but he was too afraid to be logical. He begun to breath hard, and his heart was beating so hard he felt like it could break his ribs. He was whimpering, closing his eyes, just repeating "I'm sorry" again and again. He knew he should calm down, and try to think, but his mind was a storm of panic and fear, any rational thoughts being flooded out by the roaring of guilt and panic.

Alan would feel a hand gently pat onto his shoulder. "Calm down," Alex said, softening his voice. "No, you didn't kill him. He cut and ran after I gave him a 'talking to'." Granted it was one that involved breaking the guy's arm and possibly a few ribs, as well as pinning him to the wall with a kick. But the kid didn't need to know any of that. "And I'm not going to judge you. You haven't done anything to deserve it, and I'm not one of those idiots who don't see Sykers for what they are. Humans, human beings with their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams. Way I see it, you're just a kid who needs someone right now." The man smiled. "It's always been my personal belief that if you have strength, then you should use it to help those who are more vulnerable then you are. That is the responsibility of the strong."

The boy continue to shake, fear gripping his body even as the man explained to him he hadn't killed him. He was still a syker, he was going to be hated, he knew it.

But then the man calmly explained to him sykers were just people to him, and the boy just needed some one. He felt the fear lifting from him, the shaking stopping. And then the man...smiled at him.

The boy froze, trying to process what was happening. Someone that wasn't judging him, or hating him, or any of that stuff, just for being a syker? No...he had to be lying, right? No way was this guy being truthful, he had to hate him. That was the boy's immediate thoughts, and he was trying to hold onto them, in fear of them being true. If he's expecting betrayal, he thought, then when it came, it wouldn't hit as hard.

But, deeper inside, he believed the man, or at the very least wanted to so much he deluded himself into believing he was trust-worthy. Kindness was an alien feeling to the boy, having not received it for so long, and he longed for it so. Perhaps that was why he was willing to let his guard down and play along with the man for the time being.

Of course, how little he knew! Unbeknownst to him, trusting this man, even a little a bit, would be the catalyst to a grand adventure! One that would change the very planet!

"A-Alan." The boy told him. "Alan Zwei."

"Well Alan, I'm Alexander Leons. Just call me Alex," the man told him. With the excitement from earlier all pettered out, he had a chance to think about the name Alan gave him, the name of the boy he's looking for. Ezekiel Zwei, a rather unique name. One that he has yet to encounter sadly. However, he noticed that Alan and the boy have the same last name. So they are related in some way. They're either brothers, or possibly cousins. Whatever the case, considering how small this town is, if he hasn't even heard of the kid yet that would mean he isn't here. So, looks like they'll have to leave town to go looking for him. But for now, Alan looks like he desperately needs to stop and rest for a day or two. "So... Can I ask why a kid barely even in his teens is travelling?"

"W-well...." Alan muttered, wondering if it was okay to tell him. He didn't know why it wouldn't be, but something just told him not to. After a moment, the boy decided the best thing to do was to tell him part of the reason he was traveling. "I'm looking for m-my little brother. Ezekiel Zwei, b-but I just call him Zeke. He disappeared from our home one day and I've been looking for him since." He said, grabbing a hold of his arms and closing his eyes, taking deep breaths. "It happened about six years ago." He said after a few second, through admitting it felt like years to him.

Suddenly the silence in the room became greater, or atleast Alan thought it did. Simple math and his mention of Zeke being ten years old, meant he would have disappeared when he was four. It was by pure lucky and being able to run that a fourteen year-old like Alan was still alive, chances of Zeke being around were slim to none. Alan knew that, and Alan also knew his search was incredibly hopeful at best, and incredibly delusional at worst, and he wasn't sure which one it was. Like a lot of things, if he just thought about it he would know the answer, but he was araid of knowing it, since he just kept himself wondering.

Alex closed his eyes at that, his mind already coming to conclusions as to how Zeke disappeared. Chief among them is some ass deciding it would be a good idea to kidnap the poor kid. Whether or not he's right, the fact of the matter is that there's a kid out there, likely lost and afraid, or even dead. Like hell he's leaving this alone. "Well then," he said. "Looks like we've got a kid to look for in the morning." He gave him a friendly smile, coming to a conclusion as to Alan's nature. The nature being that of a kid who wants to be with his little brother again more then anything. Someone who is dedicated to his family. Granted one who really must not be used to having an adrenaline rush if his going berserk earlier was any indication, or at least not any kind of rush that he's happy about now that he thought about Alan's first question after waking up being a worried 'did I kill him'. However many rushes he's had, the kid's obviously not happy about what happened in previous rushes.

Alan looked up in surprised, his mouth opened and moving, trying to form words. Was this guy going to help him, really? Part of him didn't believe him, part of him COULDN'T believe it. And he tried to say so, tried to tell Alex he didn't believe him, and to stop lying.

He tried and failed. Instead, he just forced himself off of the cot and walked over to Alex,falling onto him and giving him a hug. "T-thank you." He said, happiness flooding his body. Of course, it was touched with a bit of wariness, for Alan was not the trusting sort of all. But, for now, he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and smiled, hugging the older man. It was his journey, his responsibility, and he shouldn't be bringing other people into it, but the relief of finally having SOMEONE to help him was overwhelming him, any thoughts of personal responsibilities being washed out.

"S-So, in the m-morning, right?" He asked, sitting back on the cot. "A-alright, I...am a bit tired..." He admitted, laying back down and instantly going to sleep.

Watching Alan go to sleep, Alex smiled a little. "Sleep well, kid. We've got a long journey ahead of us," he whispered.
---
The next morning, the older man was packing up his gear. Said gear included his tent, three canteens for carrying water in, a couple opaque flasks for storing his supply of vodka for both drinking and killing infections in wounds, blankets for the rare times it gets cold and for use as shade, three weeks worth of dried meats, a crap load of bandages, and of course money. Overall, it was a lot of stuff, but by splitting it into a pair of bags, they should be able to manage carrying it. Idly deciding to make sure he gave Alan the smaller bag that has the food and liquids, he lifted the bags and carried them over his shoulders as he headed back to the shop the kid was sleeping at. As he walked in, he raised a hand to greet the shopkeeper, and entered the room. "Hey kid, sleep well?" He asked.

Alan was actually sleeping peacefully, the cot was well welcomed change from the ground he usually slept on. He mumbled something when he herd Alex, waking up after a few minutes.

"O-oh....yeah." He said, smiling, getting out of the cot. He yawned and stretched a bit, noticing the bags. "O-oh, let me help!" He said, taking one of the bags. After a few second of silence, he handed it back, and grabbed the second, much lighter bag. His mind was reeling during this, Alex had actually came back to get him, it wasn't just some cruel joke last night. Some distrust was still hidden deep inside him, out of sight in the back of his head, but as more time passed, Alan felt the man to be more and more trustworthy, despite his intimidating appearance.

"Well, c-come on!" Alan said, grabbing ahold of the bag. "We need to go, r-right?"

"Careful kid," Alex said when Alan grabbed the wrong bag. He shook his head in slight amusement at the kid's antics. "Yeah, we should get going. First..." Alex reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of parchment, which he unrolled to show Alan. "This is a map of the places I have gone to. It's nowhere approaching complete yet, but it's a start." Pointing a finger at a town, he made a circling motion. "This is where we are now." Next, he gestured at the featureless plains surrounding the town. "We should mark the locations of landmarks and the like when we find them, so that in the future it will help up navigate. Last thing we want is to get lost out in the desert. Make sense?"