Vesper wakes up just as he does everyday, works out, showers, eats, checks on his siblings, and leaves to work. He rejects the usual invitation, comes home, makes some basic Mac and Cheese and resigns himself to his wind down time. 

AKA: Nothing has changed. His life is as mundane as always, and he doesn’t mind. He asked for this, the same kind of life every other veteran has. 

But. 

It’s been two days since Yir was murdered by the Sword Saint, and he can’t… stop thinking about it.  He opens his computer with a hint of restlessness, tapping in his password wrong the first couple times before forcing his fingers to calm down. Nothing has changed, and yet there is a kind of energy bundled under his skin that only happened in the first months of his discharge. 

Is it because it was his first real battle encounter in the game? He has no need for anymore fighting, and it is just a game, so why would he be so wound up? 

He ends up looking up Andrew anyway, mostly because he's curious but also because there's a kind of bitterness waiting underneath his skin. It's strange, to feel such anger for an NPC, and it is a game, yet... 

He tilts his head. Que was recently accused of sexual misconduct with an intern at his company. The poor girl is young, barely 19, and a settling kind of anger coils in his chest. 

It only increases as he looks further, delving through the news articles. The accusations are going to be put to trial, and according to an interview with the girl, there's evidence. 

He closes his laptop. 

“Vesper,” Leo calls from the doorway, and he looks back. “You… left your eye on the counter.” 

“Thanks,” he murmurs, holding out a hand, and Leo accounts for his depth issue and throws it farther to the right. He catches it, swiveling the orange eye in his palm, and rubs the fake iris. 

“Uh… you good?” 

He turns his eyes up, and Leo tenses a bit, and Vesper doesn’t realize how pissed he is until the eye gives a warning beep that force is detected.

“No, sorry. Rough day.” Leo nods, and hesitates, but steps forwards.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Mm. Say, what do you think of the Sword Saint?”

“In Ada? Uh, okay… well, he’s known to be an asshole in game, but I’m not so sure about real life. There are rumors he fought under the GIA, though.” Vespers heart thumps under his skin, and he puts his eye in.

“Okay. Thanks, Leo.” He stands, and Leo furrows his brow.

“Where are you going? Me and Aria have already eaten, if that’s-“

“No. I’m gonna go see an old friend.”

“Oh, well, have fun then?”

“Thank you, Leo. Tell Aria I’ll be gone. And that I liked her essay. I forgot to mention it yesterday.”

“Alright."

“I’m off, then.”

He heads out the door locking it behind him, and pulls out his phone, sending an encrypted message. The response is immediate, and he nods, waiting on the steps of the building for his driver to pick him up.

A black van pulls to a stop beside him, and a completely unassuming looking passenger pulls open the door to him. 

 He steps inside, the passenger coming to sit across from him, and the door slides shut. “It’s good to see you, sir!”

“As always, Kinsley.” he says, and the soldier stiffens, coming to an impromptu salute.

“As always!”

—

The building hasn’t changed much in his time away. He walks through the halls with a black badge, and the soldiers part in his way with quick salutes. 

Kinsley, one of his old squad members who was transferred out, leads the way. “Right in here, sir. Deathcaller waits inside.”

“Thank you, Kinsley. It was good to see you again.”

“Of course, sir!”

The door slides shut behind him, and Malik Devin, code name: Gray Phoenix, or, the nickname Yuhai gave him, Deathcaller, stands with a smile on his face. “John motherfucking Wrenick! I never thought I’d see you again- It’s been a while.”

“Of course, it’s been a while. I’ve been eating well in retirement.”

“Well, you dragged yourself out of eating real steak and sipping vintage wine for a reason, I assume? It's not like you to just come and see a friend." 

“Maybe you're wrong."

"It's not like you to dance around. Either you've changed, which I know you haven't, or you think you're stepping out of line. But I don't care."

"Fine. I need information, Malik. It might be classified. Can you get it?”

“That's more like it." Malik nods as Vesper raises an eyebrow. "Anything.”

“And if it’s under the table?”

“You know, John, when I say anything, I mean it. I’m the head of this place, and even now- I don't think I can pay not only the debt, but the gratitude I owe to you and... well. I mean what I said..” 

“I noticed the silver star badge. Congratulations on your command."

"Thanks. God, even here, the head of the whole damn place- I still remember the glory days- your glory days every time I close my eyes. You and... you know, saved me, so many damn times..."

“What's with all the talk of the old days? You've thanked me enough."

"I just wish- god, maybe if I had matched your level even a little... you and..."

"Don't sell yourself short, ‘Deathcaller.’ You competed with me. And if you think for even a second-"

“In near death counts maybe, 'Red Jian 1-'"

“In the old days, I would turn around and you’d be losing blood from three forceshot wounds. But the other side wouldn't have to be worried about losing blood. You were sacrificial, maybe, but your kill counts tripled for every bullet you took." He says it with steel. Dares him to disagree.

" It’s a miracle I survived a lot of the things I did, I suppose," Malik says, that tension easing a little from his shoulders. "We survived, I should say. We should send our regards to the World's Strongest Soldier, huh?"

“Don’t bring up that old man,” he deadpans, eye flashing behind him as it lags. 

"Hm. Well, what information do you need?” John Wrenick casts his eyes hard. “Oh, there’s that look again. If one of the greens saw it'd be a repeat of that one newbie- you know which one," he raises a critical eye, "It was funny! It's not often you see a grown man wet himself-”

"He had prostate cancer."

"And he just happened to lose control when you glared at him? What? Don't look at me like that."

“Andrew Que. Known as the Sword-"

“In Ada. Yeah, I know him. Well, of him…" Malik furrows his brow. "I'll get it as quick as I can. Do you have an encrypted line set up on any of your devices?”

“My phone and computer. And, one more thing. See if you can find the intern- you’ll know which one I’m talking about. I want to talk to her.”

“Alright. Say, do you wanna go out for drinks sometime? It was nice talking.”

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m too busy. I’ve got a family now.”

“That’s one lucky woman…?”

“That’s classified.” He says, and Malik shakes his head. 

“Well, John, I wish your partner luck with your silent, grim attitude.” 

“Thank you. I’ll relay it.”

“If you ever need anything more, we’re all here. It’s the most we can do to thank you for finishing the blow. No matter what it cost you.”

“This?” He taps his cybernetic eye. “I’d lose my other eye if it meant preventing a war, or ending one.” 

“I think we both know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

He sighs, and stands to turn away. Malik reaches out his hand, and he shakes it firmly, clasping it with his other hand. “Thanks again.”

“Any time.” 

Eldest brother, Vesper Rayne, Codename Red Jian 1, fake identity John Wrenick, Rainman, turns, and wonders just exactly which part of him is the truest.