Summary- SADFIC, MAYBE? I dunno, I dropped my damn Shadow Fox model when I was cleaning yesterday and broke something so I wrote this.

Also, 2nd tense sucks but I've always kinda wanted to try it. I hate it, but it isn't as hard as I thought. Less thinking for me; YOU guys be the character ;)


This is it.

It's taken weeks, months, hundreds of thousands of Gallos and harsh training. Belief and hope. Sleepless nights and endless days, cameras flashing and reporters calling questions over screaming, squealing fans. It feels like a dream to you; you stare at the happy faces and can't believe these people are here for you. Your chest swells with pride and you lift a hand to wave at the flock of people, who in answer raise flags sporting your name and yell silly things; "We love you!" "You're my hero!"

Bodyguards, all black suit and fierce muscle, guide you to the Hanger. It is quiet here, the commotion outside dulled by thick metal walls. You nod at the two suits, and they turn and leave. Above you, there stands a glorious machine eight meters high. You smile at the sight, running a hand over the sharp silver claws and upward to pat a golden ankle cuff.

"Hope your ready for this, buddy."

It's the biggest Championship of the year. Pilots from all over Zi come to fight in the Twisted Moon Tournament. When you got the mail that day and saw the letter of acceptance you danced in the street, clapped your hands, proclaimed your infinite joy with wild screaming and frantic movements and this is really happening.

Just you and your Shadow Fox. You love your Shadow Fox; he's your best friend and greatest comrade. He isn't just a machine, he's so much more and together, you toppled Genosaurers and Konig Wolves, Liger Zeros and Elephanders. It wasn't easy, though. You flinch at the memory of your precious Fox getting his entire front leg torn off by that monstrous Dark Spiner, remember every note of his hallowed wail of agony. You won, turned that green brute into Swiss cheese with your Vulcan, but you never want your Zoid to make that noise again.

The Shadow Fox growls and lowers his head, sleek and shiny and void of all damage. You run your hands over the silver teeth, across the red optic. You are nervous, heart thudding in your chest with the strength of a Deathsaurer's footfalls. "We've come this far, lets get out there and give it our all." You mutter. The Shadow Fox hisses in agreement. He is ready, primed and pumped and ready.

The cockpit is warm, and you secure the seatbelt before taking a firm grip on the controls. Shadow Fox gets to his paws, gives himself a good shake before trotting toward into the bright lights.


You are going to lose.

There is nothing on Zi like this fiend. You stare up at it; hope bleeding from your eyes like the silvery liquid draining from your Fox's side. Nearly fourteen meters tall, you have never seen a Genobreaker B before. You thought they were simply a myth, a legend. Yet the demon before you –and the pain he deals- is very real.

A silver axe raised above you. The sun catches the flawless edge, throwing a river of light across your Fox's hurt and mangled body. You want to give up, but he refuses. The axe comes down, too fast for the eye to see and you wait for it to crash through the cockpit…

But it never comes. Shadow Fox darts away, skidding across the concrete floor. You instantly know what to do. The Vulcan lifts, glowing for a moment before spitting dozens, soon hundreds, of tiny energy orbs at the Geno. The pilot of the Zoid laughs, says something you don't catch. A second later and the Breaker is covered by a swirling pink shield that eats up every bullet you fire.

A curse. You cut the Vulcan and run away.

The Geno follows. You hear the thunderous boom of high-powered boosters. Yet you know your Fox is far more agile then any Tyrann Zoid. Besides, you have a plan. Well, not a really plan. You press a button on the console and instantly, your Shadow Fox vanishes. Gone from radar, gone from sight. You snicker as the Geno comes to a hover, beaked face turning this way and that.

The Fox's side is still hurting as you slink around behind the Zoid. But he sees your shadow, and whirls around. You can't react fast enough and the grappling claws shoot out, latching onto your Zoid's shoulders. The powerful current causes you and your friend to shriek in agony; the Stealth shorts out and you are at the monster's mercy. The claws drag you closer.

But you aren't done yet.

You ram the controls forward and Shadow Fox leaps. The Breaker's pilot yells out in confusion, but soon all becomes clear. Your Fox's claws erupt in glowing light; a strong buzzing fills the air as you send all four paws plunging down. You smile; the end is near.

The Genobreaker B screams in pain as the Strike Laser Claw rips apart his head. Your Fox tears off armor and optics, exposes the naked brain of the Zoid. He digs in, frying circuits in a gruesome act. His back claws shred the Geno's grappling claws and you know you are going to win, you will be the Champion.

You forget one thing.

A half second before the Geno falls into a CSF, his left axe blade swings out once again. You tilt your gaze upward and watch the blade drop, endlessly slow toward your Zoid. You yelp and try to pull back, but his claws are too deep in the Breaker's cranium. You watch, helplessly, a lost witness to a terrible crime, as the charged blade slices through your Fox's thin armor. Through circuits, silver blood, and right into the Core. You feel your Fox's silent realization as the Core –his lifeline, his heart- is cleaved in two. As if I were an orange, an onion, some useless food that could always be replaced. But this can't. This is the Core.

The Breaker slumps forward, defeated. Shadow Fox slips off and lands on his back, nearly severed in two. You jam the controls, push buttons, hit levers. Everything is dark and you are screaming no. He isn't gone. He can be fixed. This isn't happening.

Workers pry open the cockpit and pull you out. You watch a Gustav back into the arena and load your broken friend onto a trailer. The arena –with all 20,000 something thousand of its watchers- is dead silent as they watch you get dragged away, screaming, crying, and kicking. Don't take him away.


They tell you all these technical meanings. The Core was completely cut in two. There was no coming back from it. You know that, but the mechanics dance around it, using big words that you can't even pronounce. You stare at them, face blank and dead. You ask if you can see him. They agree.

Zoids Eve doesn't exist. It's a legend, and you believe that. But as you lie over his stone cold face, splay a hand over armor that is no longer armor but instead rock, you wish for just a second that Zoids Eve is real. You hope your Fox's spirit is at rest and he won't hurt anymore. Behind you, the mechanics ask what you would like to do with the body. You aren't sure. He can't be cremated; he's made of stone. He is literally cut in two, and you are at a fault.

He ends up being a monument at the arena. He gets a nice little plaque and a fence to stop hooligans from climbing over him. You have millions now, so you move closer to the arena so you can always be there with him. Sometimes you sit on his paw and watch the stars at night. Sometimes you fan spider webs from between his teeth. You visit him everyday.

You tell interview after interview; "He wasn't just a Zoid. He was my friend. I let him down." But you don't want pity, you don't want sad faces looking at you. "But he died doing what he loved. And he won for me."

That's that.

You don't buy a new Shadow Fox. You don't buy a new Zoid. You buy a car. You stop piloting Zoids for sport. Instead, you leave that life behind for younger, newer pilots to try. Sometimes you visit the arena to watch the battles. Core shots are now illegal.

Years past. But everyday, even when you get old and tired, you stop at the monument of your Shadow Fox and relive old, fond memories. In a way, it feels like he never really left.


Fuck the ending I had no idea what to write.