"There are people in that house that I’m interested in, too," Felinos said, not wanting to let someone he wasn’t sure he could trust know how much of a connection he had to those people. "Don’t think you’re the only one with plans."

"Well, you have balls, I’ll give you that," the scarred man said, chuckling, "so I’ll let you off easy just this once. Tell me what you’re really doing here, and I’ll leave you alone."

"What do you mean?"

"You already said you didn’t work for Chronos, so there’s no way that anyone in that house could have pissed you off as much as they did me. Just tell me what you want here, and I’ll get out of your way."

"I can’t do that."

"Why the hell not?" the scarred man demanded. Then he grabbed Felinos around the throat again, squeezing harder this time. "Or have you been lying to me all this time? Did Chronos send you out here just to make me think you were on my side so that they could bring me in?" The grip on his throat grew painfully tight.

"I already told you I wasn’t with Chronos," Felinos growled. "There’s someone in that house I have some unfinished business with."

"You’ll have to excuse me for not buying into that line of crap— how could a rogue Lost Unit like you claim to be have any kind of ties with a Guyver?"

"If I tell you the truth, how do I know you won’t kill me just out of spite?"

"Well, that depends," the scarred man said, smirking. "You think I’d have a reason to want to do that?"

Felinos, after a minute of fierce internal debate, decided to lay all of – well, almost all – his proverbial cards on the table. And hope that the proverbial shit didn’t hit the fan. "I used to work for Chronos; I was a scientist, a processing tech. Doesn’t really make much difference now, but I met up with the Guyvers during the Relics Point fiasco; my name’s Howard Jackson."

"So you were one of Chronos’ lab rats? I don’t remember you."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh, it’s a good thing," the scarred man said, lowering his sunglasses just enough to give Felinos a glimpse of his eerily bright, crimson eyes. "It’s a very good thing, given the fact that I wanted to kill every single one of the lab rats I’ve had the bad luck to run across."

"Well then, I guess I’m glad you don’t remember me. Just out of curiosity, what’s your name? I can’t very well go around calling you ‘hey, you’ all the time."

"You can call me Aptom," the scarred man said as he slung his right arm around Felinos’ shoulders. "See, that’s another good thing about you right there—none of the lab rats who worked with us Lost Units ever cared that we even had names."

As the two of them started walking, or rather, as Aptom started dragging and frog-marching him toward the house where all of his old friends were staying, Felinos looked over at his strange new companion.

"Wait—where are you taking me?"

"You said these guys in there were friends of yours," Aptom said, grinning more widely and not letting Felinos get a word in, "so we’re going to pay them a visit. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?"

"I get the feeling it wouldn’t matter much if I do," Felinos grumbled. "Still, there are two problems with your ‘suggestion’: none of them would be able to recognize me in this form, and I didn’t exactly bring any clothes with me."

"Never bothered me," Aptom said blithely.

"Great." Felinos rolled his eyes. "I just had to get stuck with an exhibitionist. That’s just my luck."

Aptom laughed. "Well, if you’re body-shy, I guess you can borrow my jacket."

"Thanks," Felinos said, shifting back into his human form.

Howard took the leather jacket as Aptom handed it to him, hurriedly zipping it up and trying to pull it down so the people inside wouldn’t be able to get a look at his privates. It worked—mostly, at least—but he still felt like he was wearing a kilt. As he and Aptom walked up to the door of the house, Howard wondered what Toshiaki would think when he caught sight of what he was doing. More than that, Howard wondered what the people in that house would think when they saw him.

They’d be surprised, of course, since the last place they’d seen him was at Relics Point. The same Relics Point that was now the largest damn crater in the Japan Section. The ‘Japan Section’? Howard almost rolled his eyes. Look at me—I’m starting to think like those bastards. Though I guess it’s just a hazard of working for them for as long as I did. I wonder if Toshiaki has these problems?

Howard knew that he’d never ask that question, though. Even if he’d been more curious than he was now, he and Toshiaki had made a silent promise that they wouldn’t ever talk about their time spent in the employ of Chronos; it just brought up too many bad memories. It was best not to disturb the old graves—not only the ones where they’d buried the remains of their friends and fellow scientists, but the graves of memory as well.

When they reached the door, Howard caught sight of Aptom’s hand. His pointer finger was morphing into some kind of long, thin claw, which Aptom proceeded to use to pick the lock on the door they were standing in front of. Howard watched in morbid fascination as the lock clicked open and Aptom shoved the door out of his way.

"Hey, Natsuki! I’m glad you’re…" Tetsuro, who’d just stepped into the main room, looked up and saw who had really come into their alleged safehouse. His eyes locked on Aptom for a moment, and the scarred Lost Number actually waved at him. Then he noticed Howard, who was still trying to get Aptom’s leather jacket to cover all the… important parts of his anatomy. "Mr. Jackson?"

Howard looked over at Tetsuro. "Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see us again?" Tetsuro exclaimed, rushing over to Howard and looking him over. "It’s nice to see you again! I didn’t think we’d ever see you again! How did you manage to get out of Relics Point?" Tetsuro glanced down. "And… why aren’t you wearing any pants?"

Howard chuckled. "Which question do you want me to answer first?"

"Wait a minute, I’ll go get the others. Then we can talk."

Tetsuro hurried off into another room, leaving Howard and Aptom alone. Toshiaki came dashing up just then, taking in the scene quickly and turning to look at Howard. "Hey, are you all right? I didn’t see you at your post, and I got-" He cut himself off, finally seeming to notice Aptom. "Who’s this?"

"This is Aptom; I think he’s on our side. I at least know he’s a Lost Number, like us."