It's actually baffling how easy it was to get into the town after all, at least in hindsight. Though in all fairness, now that Yasha is standing on the pier at the other side of the wall that seemed like an insurmountable obstacle before, it's a lot more obvious how to get past it. Or maybe that's only the case if you know what to look for; here, it's a strip of red paint that wraps around the far end of the wall — but it's only visible while the water level is low enough for a small tank like Yasha to reach the ground while driving past it.

He doesn't know why the water level changes like this, or how (...if?) whoever painted the mark is connected to it. There's no apparent mechanism to drain it, and as far as the optic reaches there's more water that would simply rush back and make up for any amount removed. The light tank also has a feeling that he won't find out or be able to fathom this strange phenomenon.

Maybe Talon would know...?

But regardless, he's where he needs to be now. He imagines that even if the passage should for whatever reason no longer be accessible once it's time for him to leave again, it wouldn't matter. The guards may have refused him entry, but guards that refuse to let you leave the place they're protecting from intruders... well, that's something he knows all too well also exists, but only back where he came from. Not out here. Not out in these free no-man's-lands, where everyone's much more concerned with keeping everyone who's not a friend or at least ally as far away as possible.

Yasha shakes his turret as he notices that his thoughts are drifting off again instead of focusing on what's present and real. For now, he reminds himself that he'd do well to figure out what his next steps should be.

First of all, he needs to fix his disguise. Wringing the remaining seawater out some of the ends that came loose, he makes sure to tuck and wrap the shawls back onto his frame in an approximation of what his “outfit” looked like before his involuntary bath.

Once that is taken care of, his gaze roams into every direction, taking in the immediate surroundings. There's no other tanks in his vicinity, but the spot he found himself in is extremely secluded to begin with. He can hear the noises of other tracks, engines, and conversations nearby. He turns away from the deep green waves and towards the noises. The pier he's standing on is a small one, made of solid concrete that forms a path along the backside of a building wall facing the water — to his left, it leads to a dead end after only a couple dozen meters, where other buildings protrude further out into the sea. To his right, there's just the town's wall. Next to it, the narrow concrete ramp he climbed up leads into the water and all the way down to the sandy seabed. The pier itself is rather narrow as well, giving off the impression that it doesn't fulfill any particular function. Yasha can just so fit both of his tracks onto its width. A larger tank would never be able to traverse it.

Luckily for him, the pier isn't completely isolated from the rest of the town, though; he's spared the frustration of having found a way inside only to be as trapped as if he still was outside. Even though there's no gap between the buildings and the town wall (at least not one that anything but a small animal could squeeze through, maybe), he can see a gate at the far end of the narrow path. It's a rusty garage door with a very obviously missing lock — it looks like a back door leading into one of the buildings. And Yasha figures that it might then also lead out into the streets.

As Yasha approaches that door, he is fully aware that no machine has ever taken kindly to having their home or property entered by a stranger without permission. Accordingly, he makes sure to very cautiously try to open it without making too much noise. He can lift it fairly easily with his claws despite its neglected appearance suggesting it would be rusted to the spot. The room behind it is dark and quiet. It feels unlikely to Yasha that anyone would just lay in ambush here all day waiting for the extremely improbable chance of someone entering the town through this very unintended-seeming path...So, after listening cautiously into the quiet darkness ahead of him to make sure he's right, he lifts the door further to slip past.

He lets the door down onto the ground again behind him, still very quietly, but it still appears that he's alone in here and not in any kind of danger. In fact, after just a few moments spent sitting still in the darkness, his optics start adjusting to it; it's not a lot, but a little bit of sunlight is falling into the room from somewhere on the other side of it.

Soon enough he can make out the approximate layout and contents of the building he just let himself into - most of all it's dusty, the particles he kicked up with his movement and ventilation floating through the visible beams of light. But he's seen much worse. The roof and walls seem undamaged, with none of the light coming through any gaps there. The rather spacious room and the large stacks of boxes that fill it up give Yasha the impression that he's driven into some sort of storage or warehouse. He has to weave through the aisles the crates are forming a bit to get further to the front of the building, even running into a dead-end once on the way. But he doesn't feel bothered that much when he finds himself in said dead-end, since the entire building gives him a calm, sheltered feeling despite its unfamiliarity. It seems like a place where he could hole up and spend the nights in safety until Talon returns.

But, not now. He'll come back here later. He traverses through the columns of boxes until he reaches the front, and finds a locked door this time. Luckily for him though, the lock can be opened from the inside without the key, as he finds out after some fiddling.

And just like that, he lets himself out onto a side street of Tow.

Said streets are populated and decorated; Yasha assumes this is their usual state. Strangers are driving leisurely through the alleys, obviously unafraid of each other even if they're strangers. No one seems suspicious or hostile, even as they pass by Yasha's small covered up frame. After feeling caught in the open at first, he tries to shake off the tension and trundles into the direction he assumes the town center must be. Seeing many cross his path and heading to the direction of the pier, he remembers Talon's briefing — “some come to worship the source of its infinite prosperity”. In the exact moment where the MBT's words come to his mind, Yasha's backwards optics catch a giant structure looming by the seaside. He turns around and spends a good minute gawking at what looks like a huge building made of metal. He can't quite fathom what exactly he is looking at, but it almost gives off the impression of a machine... even though it is completely motionless, throning over the town's buildings... There seems to be an electric hum coming from it. It sounds like a giant motor, but faint and weak as if it was much further away than this mysterious object physically is.

Is that it? The source of Tow's prosperity? The monument Talon mentioned?

A behemoth of steel and power, seeming strangely alive as if it was a machine like the tanks going about their lives in the town below it...yet at the same time, entirely devoid of such life, as if it was just another one of that town's buildings.

The longer Yasha stares at it, the more he feels alienated by it. Something about the view makes his armor crawl. As if that low drone was making his frame tremble with electric tension.

He feels more unwelcome in this town the longer he stares at the strange structure, despite of its colorful decor, cheerful inhabitants, and peaceful visitors. Even the metal giant itself is sporting decorations of all kind — ribbons tied to its masts flutter in the strong breeze. But even then, it's almost as if its presence itself is emanating an intensely negative aura. Yasha doesn't know how it's possible. He's never felt threatened by a building (...?) before, and especially not on such a...visceral level. It's as if the air is full of staticky hate, creeping under his plating and making his circuits tingle in the most uncomfortable way.

By the time he finally manages to tear his optics away from the sight again, he feels like hours have passed. But it's not even been a minute. He shakes his turret frantically, trying to clear his mind. What got him there? It's ridiculous to think that there could be some kind of hostile presence in the air. It's...just a building. He quickly turns away from it and kicks his engine into gear to move on.

Even though the strange not-quite-encounter still lingers on his thoughts a couple minutes later when he reaches what appears to be the town center, the uncomfortable feeling starts to fade soon as the lighthearted atmosphere of this part of the town welcomes him. There's a market occupying an entire street here. Yasha's little engine revs excitedly as he drives past the booths that offer numerous goods — some he's familiar with, as they're common supplies for maintenance and such, but others are outlandish or even downright luxurious.

There's many machines here, browsing the wares or conversing. Yasha is now starting to be certain that there's actually a special occasion; he overhears some conversations about a “celebration”. So, maybe there isn't always as much going on in Tow as there is currently. It may also be why Yasha is barely drawing any attention on himself. There's simply too many tanks around for one single tank to stand out if that tank isn't doing anything to actively get attention.

After some time spent staring longingly at all the things he could never justify spending Talon's money on, Yasha eventually leaves the market with a few items in his stowage: a couple cans of fuel, some screws and cables and a bottle of lubricating oil, a map of the area,...but also a book.

Intending to head back to where he sneaked into the town, he however gets lost on the way briefly; the many streets and the many sights distract him and lead him back to the gates where he was initially denied entry. He can't help himself and cheekily makes a rude gesture at the guards as he passes them, since they're still dealing with tanks trying to get in and don't notice him as he scurries past behind them.

Instead of finding his way yet, he ends up driving past what appears to be a square where some tanks have gathered. He wasn't going to pay it any mind, but then spots something significant right in the middle of it — none other than the MBT he's been stalking for the past days. What a coincidence! Yasha stops dead in his tracks as he catches a glimpse of the Scarecrow sitting in front of some building there. The two sluggish medium tanks, travelers that it seemed to accompany last night, are also there. While the travelers seem to be just resting and conversing with each other idly as one of them reads a newspaper, the Scarecrow is motionless and has its turret turned around. It must be sleeping?

The perfect chance!

Or is it? Doesn't matter. Yasha sees red. Before he's even come up with any sort of combat plan, his narrow tracks are already carrying him towards the three tanks swiftly. His cannon is loaded when he reaches the small group, and his direct approach has drawn the attention of the awake travelers on him. At least of the one who's currently not reading the newspaper. She looks him up and down curiously, completely unsuspecting, as he drives towards her and her companions.

But under her friendly gaze and with the realization that he's not actually sure how he would harm the Scarecrow this time with his gun not even leaving a meaningful scratch in its paint last time, Yasha just sort of coasts to a stop and stares. By now, the newspaper-reading tank also has noticed him and looks up from the page, but says nothing. The other medium tank isn't shy at all and greets Yasha with a neutral, but warm tone.

“You need something, little lad?” she asks. It doesn't sound alarmed, but also clearly demands an explanation for the odd behavior of a stranger approaching them with such obvious but unstated intent.

But Yasha hasn't planned this far. He's flustered. He can't reveal himself, and he could not possibly win any fight he would start now by attacking the Scarecrow with no apparent provocation. For a moment he forgot that it's just him right now. Just a small light tank that could only worry others by being strangely unafraid for someone of its size. There's no giant MBT cannon backing him up from an unseen vantage point right now. He better act like it.

“I—...uh, I know the Scarecrow,” he stammers out. His statement is raising optic ridges, but that's probably not the worst reaction he could get in this situation. “I just wanted to say hi to him—”

As if it wasn't obvious, the friendlier of the two medium tanks chuckles (although somewhat uneasily) as she points at the quietly snoring MBT next to them, explaining “Oh! Well, they're asleep right now. Maybe in a few—”

Yasha feels like he should thank either Sulfur or Aki or maybe both for his harmless appearance, and quickly bows and nods as he interrupts her. “I'm sorry for disturbing,” he says in a stiff tone as if he was speaking to a superior, “I'll come back later.”

Before the strangers even get a chance to reply, he's already spinning around and zooming off as quickly as his tracks will carry him. What a dumb, thoughtless thing to do! He's glad he got away unscathed.

After this eventful detour, he finally returns to his little hideout. Making sure to lock the warehouse door behind himself again as he drives through to the other side, Yasha exits through the gate to the secret pier again.

With the sounds of the busy town still behind him, he finds this spot to be quiet enough to sit down and calm down nevertheless. Though now that he saw the strange and scary behemoth flanking the town, he can almost feel its oppressive presence even despite it being out of sight currently. If he listens closely, somewhere beyond the rhythmic rushing of the waves, the murmur of the tanks milling about, and the hoarse cries of the waterbirds,...there's that low, resentful hum. Yasha can't seem to ignore it, at least not while he's got nothing else to occupy his mind with.

Luckily, he brought just the right thing from the market. Reaching into his hull, he produces the book he bought earlier. Setting down a can of fuel as well to sip away at, he runs his metal claws over the book's thick leather cover cautiously. There's a stylized drawing etched onto said cover, the lines sealed with oxidized copper paint.

Intricate but simplistic at the same time, it depicts a circle with tanks standing on its outer side as if it was the ground under their tracks, and the inside of the circle having a wave-like pattern like a body of water. Some bold letters form the title of the book, and Yasha spends several minutes trying to decipher them until he has to give up; they're compound symbols that, unlike the simpler tank runes that trivial text is written with, aren't words that are made of individual letters.

It's a bit discouraging right away to the light tank that he already experiences his first failure at reading this book before he's even opened it...and he wonders if he should have picked something less fancy. A maintenance manual, maybe. Or an entertaining journal.

But he wants to learn how to read these fancy texts specifically. He wants to become smarter by reading them. What intelligence is there to be gained after all by reading meaningless everyday literature? Sure, he would struggle with that as well, but less so than he would have just a short while ago. Even if no one taught him how to read, he's managed to teach himself a little bit even before he fled from his old home. It was frowned upon there to try and “be smarter than everyone else”. A presumed sign of arrogance. A flaw of character to want to know things that you're not told by your superiors. And so it became a bit of a secret hobby of his. He can understand simple, everyday texts pretty well by now. And he felt rather intellectual for that.

But after meeting Talon, all of that immediately felt...inadequate.

Almost frantically, Yasha turns the thick pages of the book, trying to make sense of any of the carefully lettered text. But as if to spite him, the more he tries to understand them, the more convoluted and incomprehensible the sentences seem to become...It's like he's trying to read a completely different language. But he's not! It's just a much more sophisticated subject matter than the things he read as practice before.

But he needs to move on from those. They're trivial. Compared to an MBT, how could Yasha not feel like his “great achievement” of being able to comprehend simple writing is in fact barely worth mentioning? If anything, it would bore his new leader to death to hear about the mundane wisdoms Yasha found in these primitive texts. If he could at least learn anything more interesting and complex than some adventurer's made up campfire tales, or a step-by-step checklist of doing an oil change, maybe he could even impress Talon with that. With...not being a simple-minded non-MBT, that is.

He keeps turning the pages, is already halfway through the book, and still doesn't understand a single thing of what it's about. Not even the illustrations make any sense — he's unable to decipher their captions, or even guess how they might be related to the paragraphs beside them. It's just hand-drawn portraits of tanks that seem to be in some way important to know, but Yasha doesn't recognize them. One of the portraits has him return to the previous page it's on again with flinching claws, as he could have sworn that it looked a little like Talon's likeness. On a second glance it doesn't all that much, but this contributes further to Yasha's impression of the book mocking him. He's barely even trying to read the text anymore. He could swear it probably only spells out insults to his stupidity and insignificance, anyway. He curses his mind for being that of a useless light tank.

´I promised him your body. It will make a fine gift.´

It was not just a cruel joke that Talon made last night. It means a lot more than that to Talon. And to Yasha, too. The fact that it was explicitly mentioned to the Scarecrow as well now made it feel so much more real to Yasha, so much more in his reach. It's no longer just a promise made to him in the dead of night. It's becoming reality, soon.

It's his only hope to ever become something even close to being his leader's equal.

By now, he's stopped wrangling with the book. For a good while, Yasha's full attention is turned inward, indulging in a wishful vision of the near future. It won't matter anymore if he can read some stupid old tomes once he's an MBT. He'll be much better than he is now in every way, every aspect, once this happens. Talon promised.

He's so absorbed in this fantasy that he only mentally returns to the present when he feels something tugging at one of the hatches on his frame. From the corner of his peripheral optics' field of view, he now also notices a figure suddenly being somewhere behind him. Immediately, all of his senses spring to full attention and his unoccupied hands also dart out of his hull to grasp at whatever is touching him. At the same time, his turret whirls around and he points his cannon at whatever approached him while he was distracted.

Yasha did fully expect someone trying to ambush him. It's something that's almost always safe to assume could happen at any time. It turns out he's only right about one thing with that assumption — there's someone. But that's basically it. Said someone is a tank no bigger than Yasha himself, and similarly stocky in shape. The stranger's armor is painted a faint, scratched-up beige, with some parts of the hull and turret being obscured by patches of also beige fabric. One of its arms is extended towards Yasha; in fact, he's caught that hand with two of his own just as it was apparently trying to slip into his hull. So, he was not about to be ambushed...he was about to be pickpocketed.

For a second, both tanks are completely still and stare at each other, equally baffled at the other's presence. But then, the stranger seems to register that their arm has been grabbed and they frantically try to struggle free. Yasha holds on to the arm out of startled reflex, and in fact grabs it even more firmly as the stranger's thrashing is accompanied by it screeching in fear. It looks and sounds like an animal that has gotten one of its limbs trapped and is now trying to free itself with blind, self-injuring panic.

It even manages to drag Yasha somewhat towards it, which makes him think he's losing his footing on the narrow pier as one of his tracks finds itself skidding halfway off the edge.

“Stop!!” he yells, “STOP!”

“LET GO! LetgoLetgoLet—” the stranger screams back.

“You thief!!” Yasha hisses, “You tried to—”

“I wasn't!!”

The stranger's struggle becomes even more frantic, but Yasha doesn't even think of letting it go. In a completely mindless move, the other tank suddenly leaps forward and tries to shove him; somehow, not fully consciously, Yasha ends up doing the only right thing in that situation and backs up in a way that causes the stranger to completely miss him. He lets go of its arm as well, though not on purpose, either. The stranger notices this too late to stop, having put too much engine power into the movement as it was bracing itself to push another vehicle. Balancing on the very edge of the pier for a moment, it flails its arms in an almost comedic-looking manner before a chunk breaks out of the concrete edge, causing the tank to lose what little balance it had and dive forward, down. With the pier not being all that tall and the water not being all that deep here however, it doesn't fall down all the way and instead gets stuck in an awkward position with its front submerged while its rear still sticks up in the air.

Yasha watched this in stunned silence, then inches forward to get a better view. He stands above the halfway crashed vehicle and glances down, also noticing that he dropped his book. It floats next to the sagging left track of the stranger. For some reason, he is hesitant to fish it back out; a moment later his attention gets drawn back to the other tank as it makes a miserable cry.

“What have you done?!” the stranger whines accusingly, its turret turned around to glare up at Yasha, who...feels weirdly and uncomfortably reminded of himself being in a similar situation just a few days back.

“I didn't do anything,” he scolds the stranger, using the negative emotion to harshen his voice, “You did this to yourself!”

“Then help me!” the other tank spits.

Yasha doesn't feel particularly moved by that request, and instead drives forward until his bow pushes hazardously against the stranger's rear. He notices that he could very easily just give it a little shove and make the other vehicle topple onto its turret — which would be guaranteed to drown it with no way for it to free itself from that position.

“Forget it,” he replies, his voice gaining a new, mocking edge, “You're the one who tried to push me down there, ain't you? Not my fault you messed up so bad.”

He doesn't really know what he's trying to achieve by toying with the stranger like this, and their distraught outcry of “What do you want?! I didn't mean harm!! Help me, please! I'll do anything!!” which follows is when he truly realizes that.

...He's being cruel. But why?

Yes, the stranger tried to steal from him, but it's not like this is usually punishable by death. There's really no point in further harassing them now that they already yielded. Too bewildered by his own actions for a moment to even respond verbally, he finally manages to wrestle a hollow-sounding “Well, uh, apologize to me,” from his voice box.

“I'm sorry!! I'm so so so so sorry, now please help me already!” the stranger immediately tearfully chants, their tone still distressed but showing a hint of relief now.

“Alright, well, gimme a minute,” Yasha reassures them. His own voice sounds subdued to himself now, like an embarrassed rookie after being put in his place by a superior for being too cocky. Another glance helps him reassess the situation; he takes a pair of towing ropes from his hull and starts tying the stranger's rear to his own front. “This will keep you from falling the wrong way,” he informs the other tank of his plan, “when I tell you, you need to try driving forward, okay? But not too far.” Despite the verbal warning, Yasha makes sure that he is prepared for untying the ropes should something go wrong or the stranger decide to try something really stupid.

Showing a change of heart and remarkable docility now, the stranger nods. As announced, Yasha tells them “Okay, ready. Try it now!”, and the other tank cautiously spins their tracks a little. Several tense moments of them trying to creep forward while the water's waves do their best to throw the awkwardly angled vehicle off balance after all and said vehicle tries not to dig their tracks into the soft ground underneath the surface...they finally manage. All of a sudden, they slide down the rest of the way, luckily landing with their tracks pointing downwards and fully grounded again. Both tanks are caught off guard by the sudden success, but the towing ropes turn out to have enough slack that Yasha is dragged forwards somewhat, but not far enough to involuntarily follow the other tank down into the water. Nevertheless, he quickly makes sure to untie the towing ropes, just in case. The stranger gathers them and then carefully proceeds to wade towards the ramp leading back up onto the pier.

It hands the towing ropes back to Yasha, who receives them with a wary glance that doesn't leave the other tank even as he busies himself putting the ropes away.

When he's done with that, the stranger still just stands in front of him silently, looking as drenched and miserable as Yasha himself did after his initial attempts to get past the wall. As he takes a moment to properly look it—or him, apparently—up and down, Yasha can't help but notice that its hull and turret feature some...particularly placed patches of fabric.

They're covering the same spots that Yasha himself is careful to keep concealed. His fuel pump hitches a little.

Could it be...?

Without a second thought, he reaches out to the other light tank's turret, where one of the fabric pieces has come a bit loose. He lifts it up with his claw—in that moment, the stranger seems to suddenly realize what's happening and shrinks away with wide optics. Still, Yasha manages to catch a glimpse. The faded paw print emblem that's embossed into the armor plate is not exactly what he expected to see, and that's actually a relief.

“What are you—” the stranger hisses anxiously.

"What do they call you?” Yasha asks, retreating his arm into his hull. But before the other tank has a chance to reply, he follows up with a wary, “And why do you steal stuff?”

Even though the stranger was about to reply, he now takes a moment of looking crestfallen at first, then his posture becomes distant and guarded.

“I'm Nel, the Luchs...” he eventually says, “...who steals stuff 'cause none of the merchants here won't even let me get close.”

Yasha's deadpan reply makes the Luchs deflate even further as he asks, “And the stealing totally didn't come first?”

“I'm sorry,” Nel says with a deep frown, “What was your name again? Since you're obviously the wisest tank in the world who knows everything, I must've heard of you before for sure...!”

For a moment, both light tanks just glare at each other in mild annoyance of each other's attitude...but then Yasha can't help but start giggling.

“Okay, yeah...that was pretty funny,” he admits. It seems like his delight is contagious to the Luchs, who joins in with a quiet chuckle almost immediately. “I'm Yasha, but you probably haven't heard of me 'cause I'm only the second wisest tank around.”

Nel tilts his turret curiously and asks, “You know the wisest, then? Who's that?”

Yasha doesn't remember when he last felt this oddly light-hearted, and he's surprised at himself as he playfully looms closer to the other light tank while answering.

“Yes, I know him personally! He's my best friend! You've definitely heard of him, but I won't say his name,” he teases with a mischievous tone, “since you'd run away screaming in fear right away...!”

Whether it's because his personal space is getting too crowded or because of some less tangible reason, Nel's posture becomes more tense and his optic ridges knit themselves into a frown again.

“Does he make you read those fancy books to become smart like him?” the Luchs asks dryly.

Yasha can't tell if that's meant to be a honest question or simply mockery; but what he can tell for sure is that the moment of carefree joking around has passed and probably won't return. He already feels a strange sense of mourning for those couple seconds. He's not sure what to say, but apparently the other tank didn't expect a reply. Simply speaking on after a short pause, it sounds more like he just had to gather up some courage to go on.

“I also have a best friend who's very wise.”

Nel's voice sounds conspirational all of a sudden—hushed and tense. Yasha feels like he's about to learn something he'd be better off not knowing, but he finds it impossible for some reason to interrupt. He simply listens quietly.

“He knows much about the past, and told me many things about the world out there. But he's trapped and hurt, so he can't just go out there and live his life the way he wants to. He said evil people did this to him.”

With every word, Yasha feels more uncomfortable. His armor plating is crawling again, much like it did earlier when he was out in the streets of this uncanny town. Despite how difficult it feels, he manages to speak and ask a question:

“That's awful...! Why did they do that to him...?”

Nel's expression turns sorrowful and angry, and even though his anger is clearly not directed at Yasha, it's still a disconcerting sight.

“They were just afraid of his power,” the Luchs growls, “It's not fair, he never even hurt anyone—”

He looks as if he wants to say much more, but silences himself as if suddenly stumbling in front of a different train of thought. He returns Yasha's dumbfounded look grimly, imploringly. His voice sounds exhausted, but also weirdly hopeful as he speaks on: “There's something else...he knows the future, as well. He told me a couple days ago that something devastating is gonna happen tonight...something that's gonna kill everyone who hasn't left the town before midnight. And so I'm helping him! He told me I need to help him, and if I can fix him, then he'll help me in return. He'll help me escape."

His posture and gaze show firm determination. Yasha needs a moment until the other tank's words have fully sunk in.

"Wait—Wait, what? What are you saying??" he gasps. "Everyone's gonna—....But why?" Nel's expression not changing at all makes it clear that he's entirely convinced of his claim, and that he doesn't think any further explanation is needed. He shakes his turret before giving Yasha another weary stare.

"I don't know much," the Luchs says softly, "Well, I know...that this sounds very scary. Believe me, I—I couldn't sleep since he told me! But if I can get all the parts in time, and fix him, it's all going to be okay. We'll get out of here. I just need a few more."

Yasha feels like he's frozen. It's like he can suddenly barely make sense of what Nel is saying. But it seems the Luchs doesn't notice, he just keeps talking and even ignores Yasha's stammered attempts to rationalize these horrifying news— "It can't be... you're making this up..."

"There's just very few parts missing now, and then we'll be able to escape! I saw them all at the market, they're literally all—, Yasha, if you could just go and get them for me...! You could escape together with us, I'm sure—I'll ask him if you can—"

A sudden, yelled "No!!" finally startles Nel into trailing off. Yasha's entire hull is shaking as he gathers up all of his mental fortitude to firmly tell the Luchs, "No, I can't do this!"

Nel looks like the ground was just pulled out under his tracks and visibly slumps as he asks, in a tiny and trembling voice:

"But...why not...? It's not dangerous or anything! You just have to go and buy—Don't you understand that we'll all die....??"

"I'm sorry, I—" Yasha shakes his turret to try again to get his jumbled thoughts back in order, "I can't help you...!" He feels that this doesn't answer the Luchs' burning questions, but tries to remain resolute. Even if Nel won't understand, he's asking for something that Yasha can't simply agree to without asking for permission. "I can't help you," he repeats, with the intention to speak more firmly this time—even though his tone just ends up forced and stiff, "I can't get myself in trouble again. My friend will be very upset at me if I do. He said to only spend the money on necess—"

"But—" Nel protests with obvious distress, "Aren't you listening?? Something terrible—"

Yasha cuts him off in return, harshly so.

"I'll be fine. I'm not in any danger."

Instead of just accepting the No and backing up, Nel does the complete opposite. He moves closer, even bumping into Yasha and grabbing him with all of his four arms as if to squeeze some benevolence out of him. Yasha doesn't want to be cornered and touched like that, and his engine starts growling. Nel fully ignores the unspoken warning and replies with an impatient, insistent tone:

"You're very stupid!" he hisses, "You don't believe me, no one does! But you'll see, and you'll feel sorry 'cause soon you'll wish you listened to me...!"

"Shut up!" Yasha snaps. "You're crazy! I'm not gonna help you!! Stop touching me, leave me alone, or I'll—"

"Fine!" Nel suddenly yields and backs off, even taking his arms off as well. "Be like that...!"

To further demonstrate the finality of his decision, Yasha backs up as well to free the path for the other tank to leave already. He even gestures towards the door. Nel just stares, looking as tired as before but also...calmer? He makes no further attempts to change the other light's mind, even though it also doesn't seem like his own mind will change, either.

"Stupid! Very, very stupid..." he eventually surrenders, his voice suddenly cold. As Yasha only replies with distant silence, the Luchs kicks his engine into gear and moves for the door. "Well, forget I asked for your help. Farewell, Yasha," he spits as he turns up his cannon haughtily, "have fun dying tonight...!"

It's not that Yasha doesn't want to reply something, but his words simply fail him and the departing Luchs slams the door shut behind himself. Left behind, the young light tank starts wondering if he made the right decision. A cold shiver runs all across his frame, and no matter how much he tries to tell himself that this encounter hasn't affected him all that strongly, he feels his fuel pump flutter anxiously anyway.

Could there really be some sort of disaster happening tonight? Is he actually in danger...?

His gaze wanders towards the sea, and in particular, the town wall. Maybe he shouldn't take any chances, and leave right away. It's unlikely that Talon would have sent him here to die on purpose. He may know many things and be very smart, but even Talon himself has acknowledged before that he doesn't know everything. Yasha reasons that it could be possible that Talon just didn't know about the lethal threat that allegedly waits for the town tonight. But if he knew, he would definitely want Yasha to leave the town.

There's a little problem with that right now: As Yasha's optics almost frantically scan the town wall for the painted mark that signals the water level being low enough for a tank of his size to enter and exit...he can't see it anymore. Only after some strained staring, he spots a tiny bit of it being visible as a wave passes it by. The water must have risen again...and he has no clue when or how it will sink again. So waiting and hoping it will happen before midnight is not something he's willing to risk.

But before this observation can send him into panic, he remembers that he can still try exiting by the main gates. Like he originally planned to do.

Right. I don't need to worry. I'll just make sure to be gone before midnight.

And in the meantime, he feels an intense need to find some way to distract and calm himself down. He also doesn't want to stay at this pier anymore; it seems to be Nel's sanctuary and he probably expects Yasha to be gone by the time he returns again.

Something catches Yasha's optic as his gaze continues to aimlessly drift across the ocean waves while he contemplates his next course of action—the book he dropped earlier is still just being tossed against the pier's concrete foundation.

What a waste of money, he thinks, feeling no desire to take it with him. He also remembers another one of his belongings, but as he looks at the nearby ground, the can of fuel he had brought with him is gone without a trace. With a mental shrug, he figures it might have gotten knocked into the water and sunk during the struggle. It was mostly empty already, anyway; no use crying over spilled fuel. He'll just drive by the market and get some more while looking for a different spot to loiter at undisturbed.

Casting one last glance upwards before he finally gets moving, he confirms that the afternoon has barely started. That means he still has plenty of time left and can put it to good use before he needs to find yet another hidey-hole, outside the town. Because, something else he just remembered needs to be taken care of inside said town before he leaves: stalking the Scarecrow and perhaps telling it to leave as well. Just in case.

After all, whatever great misfortune supposedly will cause the demise of all the townsfolk..., causing the Scarecrow's demise is reserved for Talon alone.