Homecoming | sequel of "Home" [✔️]

Chapter 12

As far as battles go, the one just now was considered quick. He shouldn't have intervened—the solution was easy and straightforward. He's risking his status being exposed, especially after Nikki realizes that what he did wasn't relied on technology.

He decided that staying on Earth was too much of a risk. Especially in places he used to visit frequently. Maybe next time—if there is a next time—he should just send a drone and check up on the place. Saves complications.

As the night sky lorded over the ground, Ali silently headed back to his ship, his figure masked in the darkness of the night. He was free, but he moved slowly. His mind raced around Nikki's situation. Had she always been an agent? She did say the general gave her a second chance. Did that mean that she was put through MATA rehabilitation?

No wonder she appeared in Cyberaya, not the outskirts. He never thought why she would spend her time in the city, but was she coming out from one of MATA's facilities?

MATA was... complicated. Ali didn't like it one bit. Maybe TAPOPS was too, but he was a fish in water. Both organizations had motives no one could understand, even him, but he was supposed to be closest to the truths than anyone else.

He popped the hatch open and flew in. He snapped it shut as soon as his feet touched the metal floor. Ali turned and saw the two MATA agents backing away from him, even if his appearance resembled one who returned from work at midnight.

"Ali..." Bakar said warily. His arms were held up defensively, but stiffly accepting as Ali handed him the food he'd bought. "Are you okay?"

Ali swiveled to the controls. He ignored Bakar, who seemed to be surprised at Ali's choice of dining. "We're heading back." He gritted his teeth, though he couldn't recognize this emotion.

He sat himself at the controls. His fingers usually moved with fluid motions, keying in the coordinates to home, but his fists won't unclench. His arms were shaking, held tightly by his side.

Ali looked down. The controls remained as dark as before. He couldn't move his hands.

"Ali?" Bakar called behind him, the ruffle of plastic shuffling as he placed it onto the seat beside him.

Ali's fingers dug into his seat. His facial muscles twitched uncomfortably. Was this anger? It couldn't be. He had no reason. It's been two years. There was nothing to be aggravated over, especially if he's no longer associated with them.

Somehow, he thought, glare sharpening, MATA just got uglier.

Bakar called his name again. Ali snapped around abruptly. His expression remained neutral like usual, but there was an unreadable, unsettling glint in his eyes.

"I'm fine." Even with his monotone, he didn't sound fine. "I'll live."

He turned back to the controls. What used to be second nature to him now seemed so disorientating, nauseating. The unnamed controls and complicated buttons swarmed his vision, overwhelming his senses.

His eyes darted around the panel. He couldn't recognize which was the start engine. He couldn't tell which was the navigator. It was as if he was returning to his past self—his blissfully ignorant, pathetic self that knew no pain, yet unaware of the world around him.

At least he had friends back then. He had Viktor, who helped indirectly through odd advices. He had Bakar, who would be there for him every low turn. Maybe sometimes Alicia, but she helped in her own way. But now, he thought disdainfully, glancing at the MATA agents in secret disgust, it was different.

His friends are ageless immortals. They provided great comfort, but they weren't here for him every mistake. He was used to being alone, but he needed support, someone that was in the same shoes with him. He needed someone to tell him that he was where he was supposed to be. But now, he was a traitor to MATA. A training vice Corporal. And where did that get him?