Jason followed his mark through the sparse, shambling crowds and watched with heavy heart as the dotted masses split in half like the Red Sea, seeing his imposing presence. Like a sore thumb, he stuck out, rising above their heads by a large margin, his helmet shining bright like a beacon in the night.

  The trio of troublemakers in front of him made just made their fourth turn to the right, completing a full cycle around a relatively large building in hopes of losing him in among the people, but to no avail.

  Match peeked back only to meet Jason’s eyes for the umpteenth time.

  - Yup, still there. - he relayed back to his buddies in whispers, but Jason heard him nonetheless.

  - This god damn dog. Can’t we have even a moment of peace? - Ted huffed, clearly growing tired of this merry-go-round

  - He’s a bloodhound. Did you really think we’d lose him so easily? - Match asked, his relaxed posture betraying that he was rather resigned to his fate. Or rather, didn’t mind the regenerator following them.

  - Any good ideas, then? C’mon, speak up, genius.

  - Oh, so you seek my counsel? - His tone betrayed a note of friendly mockery.

  - Just speak your mind already. I want to hit the stores.

  - Alright, listen up. It’s obvious, but pay attention. On the next intersection, we split up. Whoever gets stuck with him, takes the dog on a walk, the other two are free to do whatever. Deal?

  - Yeah, yeah, good going, big-brain. - Ted rolled his shoulder and stretched his neck, ready to bolt at any second.

  Jason tensed up at their words, and the world around him seemed to react immediately as people took another step back from him, some practically grinding against walls.

  A second passed, then another, and yet another. Then they bolted as the crossroads came into view, each in their own direction. Jason had to decide fast, but in reality it wasn’t even a contest who he’d be following.

  Without a moment of hesitation, he went after Ted, the biggest hothead of their group, simply hoping that the other two would behave. Dirk would likely agree with his judgment.

  He heard gasps and yells the moment he picked up speed, even though he made an effort to subdue his movements as much as he could while matching Ted’s pace. There was an inkling of regret in his heart for the people around him, but there was no way around it. He had to keep an eye on Ted, who cursed audibly as he looked back, shoving his way through with no care.

  Stalls and ruined buildings scrolled by faster by the minute, but Jason was unrelenting in his pursuit, much to Ted’s chagrin, who only grew more desperate in his attempts at escaping. Clearly, he had better ideas than merely “taking Argonaut for a walk”, and kept picking up speed, refusing Jason’s company.

  But that was fine. What was nearing on a sprint for Ted, was but a brisk jog for Jason, and out of the two of them, in almost every single scenario, it would be Ted who would get tired first.

  But the young buck caught on to that fact quickly.

  He dashed for a side-alley between what seemed like an old, burned-down factory building, and a storage unit peppered with holes.

  Tearing down whatever stuck out of the walls or stood in the way, he ran with unmatched purpose in his step, so determined to lose his tail, that it almost seemed comical. Until he reached the end of the alley, where instead of an old box or a corrugated steel sheet, he pulled on something else. A hand.

  With a yelp, a small figure fell to the ground, and Jason felt his feet slow down, as if he’d just jumped into a swamp. His attention split between Ted and the child, who started crying.

  - What’s the matter, Jason-boy? Run! You don’t want to disappoint daddy Dirk, do you? - The voice of Fleece echoed in his head, almost spurring him to sprint, but something else in the back of his head made him hesitate.

  There was an urge to help. To put the kid back on their feet and ask if everything was alright. To assure them that everything was alright. But Jason couldn’t. Not now. Now as “Argonaut”.

  And yet, his attention drifted, stretching the moment of uncertainty into an eternity of doubt. He watched Ted get farther away, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the pace, his eyes drifting towards the helpless child.

  Before he knew it, he lost sight of Ted, and was just standing, dumbfounded, at the precipice of the alley, like a monster from an urban legend, waiting to strike, his menacing silhouette covering almost the entire opening.

  He lifted his gaze, and saw it. The stares full of horror watching him loom menacingly over a child, almost the tenth his size. He wanted to help. He needed to help. To prove them wrong. To prove that he was no threat. But he couldn’t.

  - They want a show. Why don’t you… give them one? - Fleece whispered with malice.

  His mind spiraled as the cries of the child grew ever louder, until there came a voice.

  - There, there. What’s this crying about? - the voice asked in Russian somewhere in front of Jason, and his gaze snapped into focus.

  He expected… He didn’t know who he expected. Didn’t want to admit, but it wasn’t them.

  Who he saw instead was Michael, kneeling beside the child with one hand petting them gently on the head, eyes deep and full of understanding. He was impervious to the stared all around them, unmoved by their fear, their scorn, their abject horror. He simply acted.

  - It’s just a little bump. No biggie. Hey, how about this? If you stop crying, I’ll give you a treat. - He continued, picking himself up from the dirty snow with an outstretched arm.

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  There were a few more hiccups and sniffles, which almost turned back to a full on bawling, when they saw Jason, but Michael intervened again.

  - Naw, don’t worry about the big guy. He’s my buddy. And my buddies don’t hurt friends. - He promised, giving a Jason a pat on the arm, as if to prove a point, and it worked like a charm.

  The crying stopped, and the kid let the rotund man pick them up. Coincidentally, around the time the kid’s cries died down, the crowd that formed around them started dispersing, depraved of their show of horror. Or, at least, that’s how Jason saw it, as shameful as it was.

  - Not even a scratch, see? - Mike noted with a warm smile, looking the kid over, both hands and knees, which were the only parts of the child’s body sticking out from under the cocoon of rags that were their clothes. - Here! A promise is a promise! - He added, sticking a chocolate bar in the child’s tiny hand, much to their excitement. - Just don’t eat it too quickly, or you’ll lose yer teeth. - He laughed, showing off his missing tooth. - Now scoot!

  And so they did, as if nothing ever happened.

  - Dangit. I really needed that chocolate. - Michael merchant murmured with a bittersweet smile. What’s the matter, big guy? Standing there like a telephone pole? - the gun merchant spoke to Jason, pulling his head out of the clouds. - Ted’s gonna get away… Naw, forget it. He’s gone.

  So he was. Maybe Jason could still catch up if he rushed after him, but he didn’t want to. His conscience actively pulled him to the ground, the stares of the people burned into his memory. “Those people, they were so…”

  - Weak. - Fleece finished that thought, and Jason felt a pang in his chest. A kind of pressure he’d been fighting for ages without even knowing.

  He didn’t answer, looking straight ahead, like the flesh puppet he was supposed to be right now. Or was he supposed to just go anyway? He didn’t know anymore.

  - Mike! Hey, Mike! - a muffled voice reached their ears from somewhere off to the side as Elephant came into view. - The guy’s goooone - she stretched that last word thoughtlessly as she locked her gaze on Jason, who towered over her, motionless.

  - That’s fine. Haggling with him was getting boring quickly. - He waved her concerns away, sweeping their surroundings with an inquisitive look. - Let’s move on. There’s plenty of fish on the sea. You too, Argonaut.

  - W-what? - Elephant tensed up.

  - Yeah. Can’t leave him here like that. Seems like he short-circuited when Ted got away.

  - A-and you think he’ll listen?

  - I think he will. - the big guy said with a brief, knowing look. - I think we’ll stumble upon ol’Teddy sooner or later. - he added before moving on.

  Elephant stuck close to him, and Jason soon found himself tagging along, too.

  The tension in the crowd seemed to have subsided a little, and Jason didn’t know if it was paranoia on his part from the beginning, or if Michael just had that soothing effect wherever he went, but he knew for sure that his warm aura calmed him a little at the very least.

  - Now, lass. What say we get you a proper side-arm. - Mike proposed, his head on a swivel as he scanned the rough stalls that lined the road.

  - I’m s-sorry that you had to protect me. My weapon’s not really suited t-to fights like that.

  - Naw, don’t mention it. If anything, now I can brag that I’ve won a boxing match against a mutant dog, knees deep in the snow, in the heart of Russia. That’s gotta amount to something, no?

  That got a snort out of the woman, and the weird tension that hung in the air seemed to clear just a little.

  After that, the trio moved through the streets, mostly checking out the goods, if they could be even called that, and engaging in small-talk as Mike searched for something only he could imagine. He often made comments about different trinkets and baubles that caught his eyes, sharing their estimated values on different markets. It was frankly impressive how quickly he could spot something valuable and give the exact reason why it was so. And his knowledge wasn’t limited to firearms, of which there were quite a few on display.

  Memorabilia of differing age and quality, coins, medals and even an old, tattered wedding dress. He could point to at least a dozen different buyers for each item from the top of his head. Of course, he didn’t refer to any by name, but the confidence with which he spoke about them left little room for doubt that they were legit.

  He didn’t buy anything, though, and when asked why by Elephant, he cracked a coy smile.

  - The people here have little use for money, contrary to what Ouroboros wanted us to believe. It’s all barter, and there’s little I can spare after I gave away the cho– Ahem. - He cleared his throat. - Anyway. Gotta find something small and valued here, and trade up, old-school. - he pondered for a moment, when suddenly his eyes lit up. - And I think I just found my anchor item.

  He approached a stall with what seemed like junk items. Pieces of steel, rusted blades and time-torn screws and bolts. The seller seemed distrustful from the get-go, but Mike worked his magic. Buttered the guy up, feigned disinterest and when it came to haggling, he was ready to leave after just a few offers, but ultimately got something for just a handful of bullets from his pocket. The thing he got was… well, Jason couldn’t tell, and neither could Elephant, but Michael was quick to explain.

  - It’s a little banged up, but it’s a fine receiver. - he explained, pulling out a small toolkit from his pocket and immediately getting to work.

  He cleaned the thing with a brush, swapped a couple of thingamabobs and sprayed the whole thing with something glossy. When he wiped it off, the part looked brand new. From there, it only took him seven trades to get a proper handgun for Elephant.

  - There you go, lass. We should have some ammo for this model back in the truck. - he extended his hand towards the woman, giving her the handle of the gun to grab.

  - O-oh! How much do I owe you?

  - Nothing. Long-term partnerships are more valuable than one-time deals. If you need to run maintenance on it, hit me up. I’ll give you a discount. - he gave a playful laugh and put the gun in the woman’s hand.

  It put a smile on Jason’s face, unbeknownst to anybody.