Chapter Text
That night, after everyone had completely quieted down and fallen into recharge, Heavy Iron shifted his vehicle form restlessly. An arc of bright yellow light glowed on his windshield, casting a faint, ghostly glow in the dark garage.
He stared in the direction of the garage door—Black Hook was parked outside. Once again, he was spending the night outdoors.
The endless quarrel from earlier that day looped incessantly in his processor. Black Hook’s words were like brands burned into his spark—or like weathered grooves etched into rock: jarring, searingly painful. No matter how he tried to talk himself down, he couldn’t shake off the heavy gloom.
"Don't talk to me with such self-righteous arrogance! What do you know, you heartless bastard!"
"Anyone can laugh at me, even Buster Gallon! But you of all people can't!"
"You have the nerve to say that! You don't even deserve that word! You could never be my companion!"
Why...?
Why had Black Hook's attitude towards him plummeted so drastically? What exactly had he done to anger him? Their previous interactions had always been like this; there had never been such a strong reaction before. What was going on?
His repeated attempts to ask had been met with a blunt refusal to answer and a steely attitude from Black Hook. He didn’t mind fighting him—hell, their relationship had involved fighting from the very start. If venting through combat could get this knot out of his system, so much the better. Since Black Hook clearly had it in for him, they could just keep at it until the guy was finally satisfied, call it burning off excess energy and steam.
But it had only made things worse...
Black Hook's state was affecting him too, making him somewhat anxious.
Since the old road was blocked, he figured he could give that human brat’s plan a shot—help the new Metal Cardbots settle into Earth life. After all, Black Hook was here anyway. Maybe being sealed had left him under the Metal Brace’s influence too. As long as that bright navy-blue silhouette stuck around, the gloom of failure lifted; for once his sky broke into crystal-clear blue.
As long as Black Hook was beside him, he could take whatever ordeals came and not flinch.
He didn't care what the new Metal Cardbots thought about their new life. If Jun told him to move, he had to move. Still, maybe this kind of protection—nothing like throwing your weight around—could bring him a joy and fullness he’d never found while tyrannizing Planet Machina. Like… like…
Like that first time he and Black Hook met, helping each other, entrusting complete trust...
How long had it been since he had entrusted his true feelings like that? It seemed only Black Hook was worth it, and had made him do so.
Yes, only Black Hook.
But if that future didn’t include this pirate, then no matter how many other Metal Cardbots filled the scene, they’d just be noise to him; no matter how stunning the landscape, it would turn into an eyesore; no matter how mighty the power, it would feel hollow.
He loved sparring with Black Hook—trading barbs, needling, or plain punching. When he’d drafted the blueprint to rebuild Machina, Black Hook had always occupied a key slot; now, mapping out his life on Earth, he still kept that same berth open. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, the blue pirate stalked his thoughts like a morning shadow that never left his side. Yet the rowdy, loud-mouthed pirate he’d always known had changed since their talk that night, and the change was something he couldn’t grasp—couldn’t swallow.
He rolled slowly toward the gate, lifted the garage door, and stopped at the threshold to peek out.
In the deep of night the streetlights blazed like stage spots, but the blue pirate himself never stood inside their halo.
Once he’d thrown himself into the “pirate game,” casting himself as captain with two underlings. Pirates raid, loot, burn—so did they, day after day, year after year. Later they rarely met, yet their names stayed paired on every wanted list and campfire story, riding side by side across word-of-mouth and official records alike.
Their names attached beneath their portraits, displayed side by side. Whenever their wanted posters were seen, they appeared together before people's eyes. Basic information, sighted at a certain place on a certain date, bounty amount, and at the bottom, the emblem of Deus Machina or the Star Guardians as official stamps.
Once, this world saw us as one, as threats and legends of equal magnitude.
But with the destruction of Planet Machina, those connections faded away.
So he thought, if Machina still existed, he could continue playing his role as the "outlaw," enjoying the sense of dominion brought by power, the fear of others and the recognition of his strength, instead of wandering the empty, vast starry sea. In the vast galaxy, he was nothing, because an outlaw needed laws as a backdrop, the strong needed the weak as stepping stones. And after losing his homeland, he had nothing.
But now, with Jun’s talk of a “new world where humans and Metal Cardbots coexist,” that long-lost ache of nostalgia came roaring back. This was Earth, not his homeland, yet his own kind were here—Black Hook was here. Everything had changed, yet nothing had. He no longer had to drift; he didn’t even need to roam the way he had when Machina was still whole. He finally had somewhere he could call home. No more fear, no more alienation. His ties to others were no longer limited to a single, treacherous variety—there were people who stood at his back without aiming a blade at it, people who thought of him without tallying profit and loss. The feeling was new, utterly different from anything he’d earned with the weapon he knew best—power—and it seeped through him as a different kind of… warmth?
Not the scorching heat of fire, yet it burned in his chest so fiercely it knocked the bearings out of him. No external blow like Phoenix Fire’s blazing hammer—just an elusive temperature kindled invisibly deep in his spark, flickering like a candle flame.
Companion—something he once would have sneered at—was now staring him in the face, proving Black Hook had been right all along. He was starting to understand what the word meant… and the more he understood, the farther Black Hook drifted.
He combed every shard of memory until, in his mind’s eye, the scene froze on that night. Black Hook had asked a few questions that seemed obvious, then walked away deflated. Only now did it hit him—there had been more beneath the surface than he’d caught.
Had his answers hurt that night? Black Hook prized loyalty and sentiment, stubborn to a fault, willing to bleed rather than bend. But was the whole business of him keeping the Star Crown really that unforgivable? Back at the landfill, when they’d scrapped over who owned the Metal Brace, Black Hook hadn’t even flared up like this.
After all, in his view, it was just a smart transaction—he never expected Black Hook to actually take it seriously.
What had he said then? "I'll come find you after I'm done with my business." Did Black Hook believe that? Believe he would return the Star Crown? But when they found the Star Crown fragments, Black Hook hadn't seemed particularly angry. He didn't really care if the Star Crown was intact. Then what had he been expecting? That he would go find Black Hook?
Heavy Iron felt that if he kept digging, something earth-shattering was about to break surface.
“…Heavy Iron! Heavy Iron!”
A voice yanked him back. Sunlight flooded the yard; the little rug rat had materialized out of nowhere.
“What were you thinking about so hard?” Jun leaned in, eyes wide.
“Nothing. What d’you want?”
“What else? You and Black Hook promised me no more fights. Why’d you go at it again yesterday?”
“Told you—it was just a couple of punches. Black Hook always blows things out of proportion,” he snapped.
“Really? From the look on his face, it seemed like you started it.”
“…”
The silence told Jun everything he needed. Since both newcomers hadn’t been around long, he really ought to help them fit in. Everyone was supposed to be one big happy family. He rounded up the other Metal Cardbots and told them to put their heads together: keep an eye on why the two heavyweights were sliding downhill and figure out how to patch things up—especially Heavy Iron. Mega Ambler had already warned him Black Hook was in a foul mood; best to give the pirate a wide berth for now.
So Heavy Iron temporarily put aside the matter from the night.
Black Hook watched the Metal Cardbots cluster together, laughing as if they’d always been one big crew, while the ache in his spark kept swelling. Emptiness dogged him like a relentless ghost, blooming into boundless gloom that wrapped around him until it felt like a black hole had opened in his core, swallowing every other emotion. Buffalo Crush and Mega Trucker were swapping jokes; Buster Gallon was showing off another new gadget and slipping in harmless pranks. His two crewmates had dropped anchor in this new family, yet he—Black Hook, the Captain —was still marching on the same spot.
Left out in the cold, and yes, he’d steered himself there… He replayed the voyage: the moment he’d hoisted the pirate flag, the code he’d drafted for himself, the net he’d cast and hauled them aboard—only to discover he was the last one still playing by his own rules. All he’d ever wanted was to be needed, to matter. That first clash with Heavy Iron still seared across his spark like a brand, because for once someone had met his swing with equal force, equal fire.
What had he chased so hard, only to end up such a washed-up wreck? The honest banter, the way they’d toast the raw thrill of battle under a spill of countless stars—it had felt like friendship, like two souls speaking in the same breath. But the Heavy Iron standing in front of him now was light-years from that memory.
The Heavy Iron he liked was gone—
Or maybe that Heavy Iron had never left; maybe he’d simply fallen for a ghost preserved in the amber of memory.
Thinking solved nothing. He’d lost his crew, his companion, the last scrap of genuine feeling. Once again he was a nobody, unnoticed, unremembered, left far behind in the world’s wake.
"Mega Trucker, what kind of gift do you think the Captain would like?" Seizing the moment while everyone was together, Buffalo Crush sought Mega Trucker's opinion, wanting to give Black Hook something to cheer him up. He had seen how happily Jun smiled when Yuli gave him a birthday gift, and thought Black Hook would be just as happy if he received one.
“You’ve been with him the longest, and you’re telling me you’ve got zero clue what to get?” Mega Trucker shot back.
“Of course I know what the Captain likes, it's just..." Buffalo Crush hesitated. "Knowing makes it harder to choose."
“Since when did you start talking in riddles?” Mega Trucker eyed him.
“Captain loves swag—but what’s left for him to swipe around here?”
“Can’t you guys pick a normal, peaceful way to give presents?” Shadow X called out, overhearing.
“If it’s gotta be treasure, how about shiny Earth stuff—gems, pearls?” Fleta Z suggested. “Humans give ’em to girls they like, though…”
“Sounds weird for a pirate,” Buffalo muttered.
“Precious things aren't necessarily those with high monetary value. They can also be things carrying memories, or having special meaning to a person," Blue Cop said. "Do you have anything like that between you?" Buffalo Crush thought it over but couldn't find anything similar. Maybe he still didn't understand Blue Cop's words, not knowing how abstract concepts like "memories" and "meaning" could be connected to concrete objects.
Buffalo dug through the torrent in his head until one glint surfaced: that night under the stars when they’d both stared at the shiny bauble just because he’d said “looks pretty.”. If he gave Black Hook something equally "sparkly," maybe Black Hook would recall those happy past moments and cheer up?
"Sparkly things..." Everyone began recalling everything they had seen with this property.
“Gems.” Fleta Z stuck to his guns.
"A searchlight?" Dexter remembered using them during excavation. They emitted light, so that counted as "bright," right?
“Machinasium ore,” Heavy Iron deadpanned—just loud enough for himself—and the chatter buried it.
“CDs—rainbow shimmer when they spin!” Mega Trucker snapped his fingers.
"Lens." Mega Ambler thought of his medical instruments. The light reflected from those smooth lenses was just as dazzling as anything else.
"Uh... steel pipes?" When Phoenix Fire first arrived on Earth, he passed a construction site. The building materials there also gleamed in the sun.
Ideas flew left and right, but Buffalo crossed his arms: half of it he couldn’t “legally” lift, the other half the Captain would laugh at.
Maybe he should ask Buster Gallon? Perhaps among his little inventions there was something suitable? Or maybe he could figure out a way to get a little trinket that would make the Captain happy?
"Sparkly things?"
"Mhm-mhm!" Buffalo Crush nodded, looking at Buster Gallon full of anticipation.
"Is there anything I can find that the Captain would like?"
Buster Gallon pondered, looking at the various invention components at hand. Finally, his gaze landed on the remaining energized fragments of Machina metal.
"I have an idea. And it's simple."
The surrounding din gradually subsided. Everyone drifted apart again, clustering in twos and threes to do their own things.
Fleta Z and Shadow X were sunbathing on the roof; Dexter and Phoenix Fire were crouched in a corner teasing a cat; Buffalo Crush was—rarely—chatting with Buster Gallon.
Each had something to occupy him, making Black Hook appear all the more withdrawn.
Just like that day when Buster Gallon had buried him in rubble: everyone had seen him in that disgraceful state, then left, and he had stayed on alone at the power plant—dejected.
He had nothing left to seize, no topics left to talk about.
Softly, he said, “I’m the one who’s superfluous.”
Like a leaf drifting to the ground—a wordless sigh whose last ember of life dissipates in the cool autumn wind.
His companions still existed; he even had a safe harbor.
Nothing had changed, yet everything seemed changed—utterly, completely unrecognizable.
“What’s ‘superfluous’?”
A low voice cut in suddenly and startled him. He realized it was Heavy Iron. The guy had come near him again, invading his personal space without the slightest boundary. But he no longer had the energy or the interest to bicker with this old rival; irritably, he answered, “What’s it to you?”
Heavy Iron was blunt: “Watching them get along happily with others—feeling abandoned? Beasts walk alone; sheep flock together, Black Hook. If forcing yourself into their midst makes you uncomfortable, there’s nothing wrong with staying by yourself.” Just like him.
“Then why did you come talk to me?” Black Hook seized the hole in his words mercilessly and counterattacked.
Heavy Iron was stumped.
“What I meant was… maybe the two of us could be alone—together.” As he said this, his tone became wavering, sounding a bit lacking in confidence; his optics began involuntarily darting downward, avoiding Black Hook’s gaze.
—No. I don’t want to be alone with you at all.
You’re still the same. Black Hook let out a long sigh in his spark. You prefer to be alone—the complete opposite of me. From the beginning until now, you are you; you’ve never changed.
But regardless, Buffalo Crush and Buster Gallon were crewmates he had personally chosen—his best crewmates. That they could become better made him sincerely happy; he wouldn’t allow anyone to overlook their shining qualities and talk about them ignorantly!
He transformed and stood up again, but his movements lacked their usual swiftness; a trace of weariness showed in his golden optics. Even so, he firmly defended his two partners: “Stop trying to sow discord here, Heavy Iron. What makes you think you’re any better?”
“The pot’s calling the kettle black! What gives you the right to be so smug, talking to me in that self-righteous tone?”
“You—! Black Hook, you’re truly impenetrable! Over-adhering to the rules you set for yourself will only bind you; those rules will become your cage!” Heavy Iron’s tone was somewhat urgent—different from his usual steady nature. “I’m not forcing you to deny them—I only hope you can think carefully about yourself!”
“Wh… what?” Black Hook was stunned. What was he saying?
“Tolerating their betrayal and the harm they caused you, just to defend your crew… Is that really worth it to you?!”
"..."
Then, is forgiving you for the harm caused by tricking me out of the Star Crown also worth it?
Everything I did was for you. If I deny all that, what am I...?
After a brief silence, Black Hook’s emotions flared up instead:“Then you shouldn’t have come to persuade me! And don’t come to interfere with me! Since I’m nothing to you anyway— or do you think you see things so clearly that you can presumptuously lecture me now?
“Put away that illusory sympathy of yours! I don’t need your charity! Stay away from me! I don’t want to see you again!”
Furious, Black Hook raised his anchor and gave the other a blow to the head, then stomped off angrily.
Heavy Iron didn’t even get a chance to react to his words. Struck, he momentarily forgot what to do next. He had intended to reason with this pirate properly—how had he ended up being scolded instead, and hit again?
Black Hook’s sudden outburst truly bewildered him. By the time Black Hook had completely gone, Heavy Iron remembered he should probably chase after him and demand an explanation. He stood there for a while, his processor feeling as if knocked dizzy by that anchor blow, before finally remembering what he had come to do.
What had Black Hook just said…? For some reason, that one sentence was like a thorn suddenly sprouting in his spark, stubbornly lodged there.
“Since I’m nothing to you anyway”… How could he say that? He was clearly…
“Heavy Iron, how did it go?”
He looked down toward the voice. Jun and Blue Cop were standing before him, looking at him full of expectation, asking about any progress.
So Jun and the others, seeing them fight often, suspected Heavy Iron might have offended Black Hook, and had asked Heavy Iron to explain and apologize. But it seemed the result wasn’t good.
Heavy Iron coldly tossed out a sentence before walking away: “Asking a question you already know the answer to. That guy is impervious to both soft and hard tactics— I can’t handle him.”
Buster Gallon, having just passed by after discussing the “gift” topic with Buffalo Crush, couldn’t stand watching Heavy Iron’s repeated actions make things worse. He could only step forward to explain that the Captain was just having a bit of trouble integrating and feeling lonely. After all, with Black Hook’s personality, how could he possibly say it out loud?
Hearing his explanation, Jun immediately felt as if enlightened— slapping his forehead and saying, “Then that’s easy! We—” But before he could finish, Buster Gallon quickly stopped him. After all, this kid’s ideas sometimes popped up out of nowhere and were a bit unreliable.
But Heavy Iron felt something was off. He had a vague feeling this was just the surface. The most fundamental reason wasn’t here. Of course, the important thing was still why Black Hook got annoyed the moment he saw him. Black Hook’s annoyance made him annoyed too. He didn’t want Black Hook to keep avoiding him, rejecting him.
Black Hook was about to find another quiet corner when he heard someone calling him from behind. Turning around, he saw Buffalo Crush.
“Captain! Captain!” he called out, racing up to Black Hook, so excited he could barely catch his breath. “I… I found a… trea… treasure! I want to give it to you!”
"What?"
Then Buffalo Crush took out a small, delicate blue glass artwork, shaped like a pirate ship. "This thing is sparkly! And it looks just like you, Captain!"
“Just cut these glass sheets according to the blueprint…” Buster Gallon sliced the blue, red, yellow and white panes Buffalo Crush had gotten from Edo into irregular shapes, then signalled for the glue. “Stack them in order, glue them layer by layer…”
Shapeless shards were built up one by one; little by little they took the form of a sailing ship.
Buffalo Crush hadn’t a clue about the principle, but he applauded supportively. “Wow—it’s the Captain!”
Buster Gallon adjusted the miniature vessel with satisfaction and set it on the work-bench where sunlight fell. Colourless, formless light passed through the mainly-blue ship and refracted colourful shadows onto the tabletop, splashing across the surface like spilt ink and setting off the sparkling glazed craft so that it looked dreamlike and illusory.
“It’s beautiful… The Captain will definitely love it! Thank you, Buster Gallon!”
His companion’s praise made the inventor place his hands on his hips and puff out his chest. “Of course! I’m Machina’s genius inventor!”
Black Hook stared blankly at the object in Buffalo Crush’s hand—identical colouring, identical shape to his own. The iridescence refracted by sunlight through the crystalline glass rippled at Buffalo Crush’s fingertips, captivating and beautiful, impossible to look away from.
"This is…"
"This is the gift Buster Gallon and I made for you, Captain!"
Black Hook took the little ship carefully. The delicate trinket that had looked exquisite in Buffalo Crush’s hands became even tinier in Black Hook’s. He didn’t dare grip it hard, afraid he might accidentally crush the glass artwork.
Seeing the Captain examine it for so long without speaking, Buffalo Crush grew uneasy. "Captain… you… don’t like it?"
"Buffalo Crush, you…" Black Hook paused, drew a breath, looked down, then finished the rest of the sentence. "…are really a fool."
"Huh?"
"Thank you, Buffalo Crush. And thank Buster Gallon for me too. Also… no, never mind." He had thought of asking Buffalo Crush to pass a message to Buster Gallon, but on second thought, apologies were better delivered in person.
He half-crouched and embraced Buffalo Crush. "I love the gift. It’s the best treasure I’ve ever received. Well done, Buffalo Crush."
"Captain…" Buffalo Crush, moved, reached out and hugged the tall Metal Cardbot, burying his head in Black Hook’s chest. He sniffled, trying to keep his voice from turning tearful, but clearly, he failed.
They ended the embrace, looked at each other, and exchanged a smile.