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Stanley stares down the barrel of his gun and calculates. The bottle is made of ceramic, likely mostly full of revival fluid. It should weigh around 4-5 pounds, (2 kg) hardly impossible to launch but difficult to do so accurately, especially when he has very little information on the plate it stands on. Even if he shoots it down, the chances of it landing on one of his allies are slim.
To make things more difficult, Xeno is the only scientist here. None of the others have the knowledge required to make nitric acid from scratch. At best, they’d need a trip back up to HQ. The chances are too slim. He’s not quite willing to be the man who doomed humanity.
The brats have a plan. And they’d just said that they need Xeno.
He lowers his gun. They’ll revive Xeno, and considering what they need him for, they’ll let him continue working on at least some of his passions. Xeno will be fine. They might even give him a decent degree of freedom. After all, his own statue will be held as collateral. They probably won’t revive him, but he can live with that.
He steps out of his armour. It isn’t as if it can defend him from the petrification. He takes one moment to mentally congratulate the kids. They won. Xeno might even call it elegant. He pulls out one last cigarette. The top of his head is already turning to stone. He lights a match anyway. There’s just enough time to raise it to the cigarette, but not quite enough to light it. Damn it. He’d wanted one last hit of nicotine.
He feels the stone engulf him once more, spreading down until he can no longer sense anything. He’s been through this before. That does very little to quash the instinctive panic in his chest, especially as this time, rescue is even more of a pipe dream. The ray came from the north. No one at HQ would have been safe either.
He wonders what’s happening outside. Did the junior scientist brigade already manage to unpetrify themselves? He doubts it. The scientist had been trying to time something, meaning that what they’d set up was likely a backup plan. Considering that it was a backup plan, it was either too risky, would take significantly more time, or was at least somewhat dependent on luck. Or it might not have been a backup plan at all, but rather one created on the spot.
Regardless, it means he has no set timeline. At all. Xeno had theorised that it’d been at least one millennium, likely over three millennia, since the petrification ray. They had no real way of knowing. According to Xeno, the stars had shifted too much, and it wasn’t as if any of them had kept count.
Hm. He could keep count this time around. He holds onto that thought a little longer before dismissing it. It had been hard enough to keep himself perpetually awake with zero stimuli. Doing a simple, repetitive task such as counting would only serve to make him lose concentration that much faster.
In the past, he’d keep himself awake and alert by constantly scanning the environment. Even on occasions where he had to keep an eye on his target, the rest of his senses were often on high alert. Very rarely, when he needed the small boost of adrenaline, he’d let himself feel a jolt of anxiety. He also knows others used small motions or intentionally caused discomfort to themselves.
All but one of those tricks require outside stimuli. That’s a luxury he no longer has access to. Thankfully, he doesn’t actually need to battle the need for sleep too much. He vaguely remembers the tiredness vanishing after the first month or so. He just needs to hold out that long, and staying conscious will become less of a struggle and more of a choice.
Last time, he'd stayed awake for Xeno. Xeno, who'd been right next to him. Xeno, who has the pure willpower required to continue on no matter what. Xeno, who would have needed him after. Xeno, who trusted him to stay awake.
Now, he has little idea if he'll ever see Xeno again. It doesn't matter. If Xeno needs him, he'll find a way to wake him up. He needs to stay awake. Xeno would expect him to. Wouldn't even consider it a variable.
He thinks back to the day they met. How Xeno tracked him down from a shooting competition. How he spoke in his utterly self-confident manner, expecting Stan to simply follow. Which he did, because Xeno had never not been captivating. How he'd ended up staring in shock as he watched a railgun come together under Xeno’s hands. How Xeno turned to him, and told him to test it as the shooting expert.
He recalls memory after memory, holding on tight to what he has. Three thousand years of petrification couldn’t erase them. He isn’t going to lose them now.
A little clearing in the woods pops to mind. He knows he’s been there far more times than he remembers. He knows there was a time when he went there at least once a week. He knows he dragged Xeno there at least a few times. He knows he must have shown him all his favourite spots.
He remembers Xeno tutting at the state of his stick-hut – no, he knows that. What he actually remembers is Xeno, standing in front of the hut with a toolbox in hand. He remembers the final result as well – the little house that they both called their forest base. It had stick walls tied with vines and a roof made of crossed branches they heaped vines and leaves onto. It had little bags hanging from the roof where they stored all manner of things. Usually things from the forest itself, but he knows Xeno put some stuff there once or twice. Not that he remembers what they were, apart from vaguely metallic.
He wishes he could remember more. Most of those early days are lost to him, with little more than mental snapshots and the knowledge of what happened remaining. Some things he knows because he was told. Others he knows because they’re a logical assumption. Yet more are the memories that faded away, leaving only the memories of himself remembering.
Thanks to the 3000 years, the third type happens to be the most common. It’s better than nothing. He returns to recalling long-ago memories. He wants to have a pleasant trip down memory lane before he starts getting tired.
***
Stanley lets the image in his mind drift away, cutting off that memory before it can go any further. Or at least, he tries. It’s no surprise that this memory in particular is difficult to cut off. After all, it was almost literally the last thing he saw.
He regrets it, just a little. But there was hardly anything else he could have done. Xeno had entered academia determined and starry-eyed. Far too naive. He’d gone into it with the intention of pursuing science to its current limits and going beyond them. To ensure his name would go down in history, though he’d considered that more of a side-benefit.
Xeno had been so hopeful. Until reality hit him in the face. It didn’t matter that he was talented. That he was a genius. That he’d been building all kinds of functional devices since he was a child. Actually, that last one got held against him. Several times. The criminal record didn’t help. He’d tried his best to keep Xeno out of it, but that didn’t change the fact they’d been arrested. It only made the rumours fly wilder.
The world was cruel. And it often had nepotism. Xeno lacked the connections to make his past irrelevant. He also didn’t have the right skills to gain them. He hadn’t thought he’d need them. He’d thought that all he’d need were his skills.
Xeno wasn’t wrong. The moment he had a chance to prove himself, people started throwing offers his way. But for the longest time, no one had been willing to give him that chance.
He had to watch on as Xeno came back from meeting after meeting fuming. He wanted to help. Of course he did. But he was a nobody. He had no connections, no power, nothing whatsoever that could help. He couldn’t even somewhat keep up with Xeno, stuck in high school long after he’d graduated. In retrospect, he could have been there more. He should have been more willing to just. be with Xeno. It wasn’t as if his grades ended up mattering. He could have just dropped out. Then again, it might have stopped him from becoming a sniper. Might have meant he wouldn’t be by Xeno’s side that day.
He takes a moment to clear his mind. It wasn’t as if he’d done absolutely nothing. He’d tried to help by taking Xeno’s mind off it all. Thinking back on it, joking about how they could just assassinate anyone causing Xeno trouble might have been a mistake. He doesn’t regret it. That had been what caused Xeno to smile, in the end.
Smile diabolically as he immediately ran to scribble out some plans, but still. He loved seeing Xeno look so alive. They’d spent the whole afternoon coming up with more and more ridiculous ideas and cackling at each other. He still remembers some of them. Like building a scaled-down rocket, filling it with ebola, and launching it in the direction of the university staffroom. Xeno even ended up planning an entire heist to steal some samples of the virus. All because he’d pointed out that ebola wasn’t exactly common nowadays.
He lets nostalgia wash over him. In retrospect, maybe neither of them could ever have ended up any other way. Not once they’d met each other. And that wasn’t so bad.
He wouldn’t trade those years with Xeno. Not for anything. He can’t imagine a life without him.
***
Stanley lets himself run some calculations again. His chances of being revived are low, but they aren’t zero. He needs to remember that. He needs to remember that, because he’s getting far too tempted to simply fall into unconsciousness.
First set of options. The teens succeeded in their plan.
If this happened, the only way for Xeno to not be revived is if his statue broke. Considering Stanley himself is still alive, Xeno's probably fine. As fine as a statue can be, at any rate. That gives him several options for revival. The most obvious is Xeno. It’s possible that the kids revived him while they weren’t fully established. That gives Xeno a chance to find their weak points, come up with a plan, and get his hands on some revival fluid. Or even just nitric acid. And that’s the main reason for him to remain awake. Because there’s many reasons why Xeno might only be able to access nitric acid.
Alternatively, Xeno might pull an ultimatum. Insist on working only if he gets to wake Stan up. Or maybe hold some critical piece of information hostage for an exchange. He knows that doesn’t actually require staying awake. But staying awake gives him a chance to plan. Regardless, he shelves this as being unlikely. A hostage can be just as effective even when missing a couple of fingers. And it would also make him less of a threat. Xeno isn’t likely to risk it. Not when they were all too willing to use him as a human shield.
There’s a third possibility.
He knows damn well that he's one of the best pilots and snipers out there. And that there's no one else who can keep up with him in both. If they need a combat pilot, they might take a chance and revive him. Or perhaps they'd be more likely to revive him for an assassination. They might not trust him in a plane.
It wouldn't even be hard for them to get his cooperation. They'd just have to petrify Xeno instead. Or threaten him in some other manner. It'd be enough to keep him under control.
The little scientist might like to play at innocence, but he already proved he was willing to risk all of humanity to win. Despite all of Xeno's complaints about his online protege’s naivete, it seems that he grew up.
(Or perhaps it's something far more terrifying. Perhaps the boy does genuinely believe that petrification isn't all that terrible. Perhaps he takes it far too lightly, having already survived it. It's not impossible that he considers waiting another few millennia as a viable option. He hopes not. He hates that he can't dismiss it out of hand.)
(In the end, it's one more reason to stay awake. Just in case.)
***
Stanley’s thoughts cut off as he notices something. Light. A miniscule amount. If he hadn't been petrified, he would call it darkness. But he hasn't seen any light in god knows how many years.
Then he feels . His hands, his face, his neck… he feels the cold air surrounding him. A dull roar fills his ears.
He awakens to the sight of Xeno. Xeno, standing right in front of him with a lighter and cigarette in hand and a small smile on his lips. It looks genuine. He notes the young scientist and his posse standing a little further back. The liar, two fighters, and a couple others he doesn’t recognise. A bit of tension, but no signs of hostility. He takes the cigarette.
He scans their surroundings even as he takes in a breath of smoke. They're in a shallow cave. Not enough echo for anything else. One exit, likely on a cliffside. Too high to jump for a civilian, unless there’s a ledge the waterfall misses. It wouldn’t be a very effective prison, but it would have kept Xeno from moving his statue.
Considering the circumstances, it’s probably a negotiation. If it was just Xeno’s reward, they wouldn’t have brought civilians. Yet they still let Xeno approach him and hand him a lighter of all things. The fact that the young scientist is here speaks volumes.
“What's the job?” He asks.