Phone for you. A gruff voice invaded Cyrus's dreams. He ignored it, focusing his mind on the blank void he had been building in his brain these last couple of months.
Oye mate, wake up. Your damn snail is ringin.
There was that voice again.
Damn drunk. The voice murmured, quieter this time and Cyrus felt himself reflexively smile until suddenly a sharp pain blossomed between his eyebrows. Sitting straight up Cyrus found himself eye to eye with a stout looking man, a wide handlebar mustache growing from his top lip. Rubbing his forehead Cyrus frowned at the barkeep, Alright alright I'm up. Jeez. As the synthetic drowsiness that comes only from an alcohol induced sleep began to clear, Cyrus found himself in the dingy bar he last remembered falling asleep in. He was somewhere on the island of Hebi, where exactly was uncertain, but at least he had woken up where he last remembered going to bed, on the barstool in this bar. Not too shabby compared to some of his recent nights. To his right he found his golden guardian still stationary on the stool beside him. The plus side to Cyrus's latest monstrosity, the project that had forced Zoe and the others to more or less mutiny against their captain was now Cyrus's only friend. If it could even be called a friend. He was once a friend, a very dear friend but now...

Scratching his head and yawning, Cyrus mentally collected himself before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the Den Den Mushi. The missed call that displayed on the disguised snail was oddly familiar, though Cyrus couldn't quite grasp it until he noticed the Songbird Pirates jolly roger painted on the snail's shell. Son of a gun. Cyrus said to himself in complete surprise. He hadn't heard from Junbei in...going on years, plural, now. Not that they had had any sort of falling out, their paths simply hadn't crossed in all that time. Of course Cyrus still kept tabs on the Auburn Songbird here and there. After all it was hard not to when he was in the News Coo every other month. The news eats up stories about a young Yonko rising up, especially when that same Yonko takes over a major military installment for the World Government. Junbei had been making waves these last couple years, tidal waves at that. It made him wonder what a man like Junbei might want with Cyrus. Barkeep, something stiff. I have a feeling I might need it for this. Cyrus said, scratching at his heavy five o'clock shadow before placing the call back to Junbei.

It was odd hearing Junbei's voice in so long, not in a bad way, just unusual in such a long time. It sounded deeper, not like a man who went through puberty or anything, simply more confident. Junbei had always been an optimistic dreamer but somehow his voice reflected that of someone who now knew exactly how to go about achieving his dream. Cyrus guessed that's what it took to become a Yonko, you couldn't just be a dreamer, you had to actually do something with your dreams. Cyrus looked at the empty bottles in front of him and then over at the large metallic man sitting beside him. Of course he said nothing, but he and Cyrus had developed a sort of one-sided talking form of language of their own. Or at least, that's what Cyrus told himself sometimes so the loneliness didn't make him go mad. Me? Drinking my life away? When have you ever known me to drink Junbei VonEcho?

Cyrus realized that maybe he shouldn't be saying the Yonko's name out loud in the middle of a bar, but then again the place was dead and the worst thing that could happen was some snitch signaling the Marines and a ship being sent here to scout it out. Junbei, as far as Cyrus knew, was nowhere near Hebi so really it could be beneficial to the Auburn Songbird to have the Marines go off on a bit of a wild goose chase for some time. Regardless, Cyrus kept on without worrying about any of the other patrons, So what do I owe the privilege of a direct call from one of the Four Emperors of the sea?

Cyrus smiled listening to his old friend, it was nice to have this idle chat rather than be engrossed in a conversation on the next movement for the Revolution or some other high stress situation. When Junbei mentioned their lack of conversation these past few years Cyrus thought back to his fight with Jane some two years ago at this point, Trust me Junbei, I certainly could've used your help a number of times, but you seemed to have your hands full yourself. Besides, some things simply need to be done on your own. Cyrus said before taking a sip from his latest beer but quickly interjected as Junbei continued speaking, Ah, General my friend. I'm a General of the Revolutionary Army now. You're not the only one making a name for himself in this world. Cyrus said with a sly smile. Cyrus rolled his eyes as the younger man jabbed at him about his age, Oye, fifty-eight, I know alcohol isn't exactly a youth elixir, but I just passed my thirtieth birthday you little shit.

It was only after Junbei mentioned something about starting a family that the conversation took a turn, at least on Cyrus's end. He'd immediately be thrown back to memories of Emma and Charlie, not the pleasant ones before the world went to hell, but instead the ones of their cybernetic upgrades. The memories, or nightmares rather, that Cyrus relived almost every night. He'd cut them down time and time again. No drug, booze, or medicine could keep the memories at bay and they haunted him constantly. He lowered the bottle from his lips to the table before realizing the awkward amount of time that had passed without a response to his friend, Ah family...ha, no my friend, no family. I tried being a family man once, it feels like a lifetime ago, but not anymore. A family only weighs you down I'm afraid, they're shackles and cinderblocks. Cyrus said, falling silent as he swirled the contents of his bottle around in a makeshift whirlpool. Deciding to change the subject however, Cyrus picked up the laughter in his voice once more and added, I have to say, you must be thick in the head if you think the Revolutionary Army pays us piss all. If I wanted to be rich I'd be galavanting around the seas with you and your merry band of Songbirds. How is everyone by the way? That girl...from the bar, Charlotte, right? How's she?

Cyrus swirled the glass of brown liquor around, staring down into its depths as if it contained all the answers of the universe. He had considered joining Junbei, many times in fact. However now it seemed almost too late. It was one thing to defect from the Revolutionary Army, another thing to defect as a Captain, but at this stage in the game...he'd be hunted. He knew too much, had too many powerful contacts. The only way he'd be able to get out now would be to go his own way, he couldn't risk the lives of anyone else he cared about. For now, he was a Revolutionary General. Suddenly the voice on the other line switched and Cyrus smiled a mischievous smile, Ah Charlotte, always a pleasure to hear from you. He said sarcastically as the woman berated him for a pissing contest Cyrus wasn't aware he was having with Junbei. She began diving into the weapon dealing business, mentioning how Junebi's crew had been wheeling and dealing weapons to the Revolution for the past few years, To be honest Charlotte I've been mostly alone these past few years. Had my head in a big project, but I've heard whispers about a new dealer, had no idea it might be a close friend of mine.

When Charlotte began talking about humanoid robotic warriors with unparalleled fire power and fighting capabilities, Cyrus simply turned to Leo Mk. Z and stared up at the golden goliath, Yeah...about that....I don't know how up to date you are with the news Charlotte but I may have already gotten my hands on that technology. Do you possibly remember a lady named Jane D. Punk? Cyrus asked, genuinely curious and not trying to sound like a wiseass at all. Regardless of Charlotte's answer, Junbei would pick up where he had left off, listing off all of the new and interesting friends he had made since they last met, My my, my friend, sounds like you have quite the motley crew over there. Off to the New World then eh? I'm making my way in that direction myself, Cyrus said, looking around the dingy dive bar he was currently sitting in, slowly but surely. Actually I'm supposed to link up with Bazel, the Firebird, don't know if the name rings a bell. We're meeting on Saobody in a few months time.