In the aftermath of the battle between Red and ElitE, a mysterious four-winged navi shot ElitE in the back before he could regenerate a fourth time, leaving him for dead in the middle of the road. For an hour afterward, none of the passersby navis paid any mind to the inactive but undeleted navi until a single NormalNavi stopped, picked up the body, and carried it off to a back alley of the network where it was deposited and subsequently ignored again.

Until it woke up...

The navi's fingers twitched, then curled in and out of fists as it reactivated again, far from its fallen crystal fortress and the road where it had been erected. All four pairs of eyes opened, looking around slowly, and then doing a double take as it realized that it had no idea where it was. It struggled to its feet and ran out of the alley..or rather it tried to, but realized halfway through that its movement programs were disabled and that it was in fact not moving at all. "What is the meaning of this?"

Though ElitE hadn't expected an answer, hadn't even meant to speak the question aloud, an answer came in the form of a mechanical voice backed by a constant buzz, barely audible but still very present. "Welcome back to the world of the active, ElitE."

"You...I know that voice...Kirkak!"

A slow rhythm of metal lightly slamming against metal followed ElitE's exclamation, followed the same mechanical voice. "It appears that your memory core has not been damaged after all. That is good. You will be able to explain yourself then."


"What is the primary rule our organization has for carrying out attacks on the net?"

The eight eyes of ElitE narrowed for a second, then looked downward as though trying to hide themselves in their respective heads. "No personal vendettas."

"You are the newest member of our organization, so perhaps you do not understand this yet. We do not have the firepower to engage the NetPolice or the NetMafia. Our existence, just as it has for eight years, hangs by a thread. One wrong move, one poorly planned attack, and that thread can be severed. That is why we have rules. That is why we cannot act on personal agendas. That is why we cannot allow even our organization's name to spread beyond ourselves. Even Sagon understands, so you should as well." As the speaking navi finished, it walked into ElitE's field of view, revealing a humanoid navi in a gleaming white exoskeleton and sporting four wings designed after a dragonfly's, arms with gun ports built into the palms of the hands, and a thin visor with two red dots for eyes.

"That speech sounds very unlike you, Kirkak. Did you really think of it yourself?" ElitE asked.

"I was relaying a message from commander Salas. He has sent me to retrieve you."

ElitE made a sound that resembled a half-formed "oh", hanging its four squished-together heads. The white navi ignored it, and instead walked to the edge of the alley, looking outside to ensure nobody had been listening in. "You are lucky," it said, returning. "That your core program is resilient as it is. I would not have hesitated to delete you otherwise."

"Like you're capable of hesitating at all," ElitE retorted, but Kirkak ignored him, and instead placed one hand on the top head of ElitE's four.

"Navi designation 'ElitE' is secure. Returning."
Both navis disappeared from the alley.