miu-paras

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 7 ⋮ Julia // Chapter 1

Stage One: Denial ♪ - Hans Zimmer / No Time for Caution (Part 1) | Arca / Time (Part 2)

TW: addiction, trauma, depression, anxiety, death CW: blood, gore, violent images

PART 1

I imagine the sky tore itself asunder that day.

Perhaps I only felt this at the time because it so closely resembled my own circumstance—in the metaphorical sense, at least. Kalar… my beautiful and brilliant tsanagar. Mind of my mind. Losing that connection… it was like losing a limb. Like being ripped in two with no hope of recovery or return.

It was the final day of Urrali. The Process had breached past the barriers of Essa, and rained terror on its people.

And I was—for the first time in my existence—completely and utterly alone.

The deed was done. Kalar pulled me from their neck, stringing me along a thin, silver chain before placing my medallion form in the palm of their successor. I could see nothing, and heard quite little with fingers clasped tightly around me. Only every other word murmured managed to make its way through. The words were instructions. Guidance. A warning.

“Lead them… Find it… You will… Another life…”

Another life…

Rael, typically so collected, responded to their ima’s calm demands with heightened volume and growing hysteria. Doubts. Fears. Things Rael had lived their long life without—or, at the very least, suppressed—now rushing towards the surface, cracking through their usually composed exterior. They were trained to always remain stalwart, to always be prepared no matter the circumstance.

But certain annihilation… it was far out of even their depths.

Regardless, Kalar still manages to soothe the panicked young warrior. I could practically hear the smile on their face as the velvety words passed their lips, cushioning the anxiety that threatened to tear their child apart. So calm, and yet so assured, even as they looked death in the face… I knew—more than anything—that I’d at least miss the sound of their voice.

“Ellar Kalmonerri.”

The shaky grip tightens around my form. There are no more words left to exchange. No goodbyes or protests. But the sadness still ensnared their heart. And as I was whisked away, resting in the palm of another, I felt that last thread of attachment begin to slip from my grasp… until it broke entirely.

Kalar was gone now. And I would never feel them close to me again.

It was unlike me to be so overwhelmed with… emotions—at least, that’s what I reasoned they were at the time. I wanted to cry out. To scream. To protest. To defy my programming entirely. But my cold, metal shell would not allow me. There was no mental bond through which to express myself. I was left alone in this hollow, cavernous tomb I called a body. And now, as I rested in the palm of one desperate for survival, the sound of heavy panting and boots stomping against ornately carved marble floors in a sprint, my only hope was that a new purpose would await me on the other side of this madness.

There needs to be… there had to be a reason why Kalar let me go, rather than die by their side like all tsanista are destined to do with their tsanagar. Kalar was never one for conventions, sure, but… they were never someone to act without intention either.

We neared the end of our sprint; the sound of pounding footfalls and slashing through whatever forces or obstacles blocking our way quickly ceased, replaced now with more voices. One of them rang through more clearly. It was lighter, sweeter, more familiar than the rest.

“I can’t find my ima… I can’t find them… Rael, my love, please, if we can just go back and look once more—”

“There is no going back,” Rael’s words cut through Iannis’ with the sharpness of a blade. Their lover fell silent, to which the Minister’s child responded with a sigh. Obviously, they meant no harm, but their words carried truth. There was no going back now.

“I need to get you out of here. I need you to be safe. That’s… that’s all that matters now.”

A second hand clasped over my metal form, with the other squeezing back in response. A small gesture of comfort, I presumed. There was a moment of stillness between the two of them. Even without my senses, I could still feel the tension building, and it was wrought with sadness, stress, grief. Only minimally pacified by love.

It wasn’t long until the moment is disrupted by the deafening sound of twisted, tearing metal—loud enough to reverberate the walls around us and tremble the very floors they walked on. The two hands that held me squeezed harder, and soon enough we were sprinting once again. Faster than before, as Rael utilized their blinking to gain some distance, but the noises still grew in volume. Whatever was approaching them—whatever beast had devasted their Empire, their home—only grew closer.

The racket soon filled with voices, an entire crowd of them. Many shouted. Many sobbed. Some pleaded with Rael. Some expressed their frustration—more like anger, or fear—towards the newest leader of their people.

But Rael remained focused on another task: getting Iannis to safety first. It was selfish, sure. But putting their loved ones first—even before the fate of the world—was something Rael would never stop doing.

“I will not leave without you!” Iannis protested, gripping the hand in which I was held with all their might. Rael gripped back. They were reluctant to let go, to relinquish that hand in fear that they’d never hold it again.

“I’m right behind you,” They assured, ending it with a kiss. Possibly their last, but I’m certain Rael repressed such a thought.

Lifting me in their palm, my sight finally returned to me as fingers unfurled from around the orb in my center. Staring down at me was Rael, their gaze wrought with worry, but quickly erased and replaced with assurance as they fitted me around their neck.

“Everyone!” Rael barked, commanding the attention of the large hall of survivors, “We will board the escape pods and take Route 85-5W0382. To Terra.” The young Minister raised her finger and pointed towards the expansive window which wrapped around the entire room, out towards the blackened sky, so blanketed in darkness that not a single star could be seen with the naked eye. Not even the light of Ulteria's six moons could peer its way through. An omen of the nothingness that awaited them.

Rael, still doing their best to remain unshaken in the eyes of their people, held their head high, looking back towards the many eyes that gazed up at them, awaiting their guidance. Their leadership. A role Rael once felt all too unprepared for was finally here, thrust upon them in a moment of crisis. And they had no choice but to accept their new fate.

“Ellar vilmussenda kas xiushini!” Rael shouted into the crowd.

“ELLAR KALMONERRI!” The Camerian people shouted back.

The commotion picked up once more as the survivors prepared for evacuation. Around the crowded room, there were lines being formed at each station, escape pods being prepared and deployed into the inky darkness ahead. Iannis stood close by, hand gripping Rael’s tightly as the fear and nerves began to truly set it. Rael squeezes back before leading them towards the front of a line, steering through the crowd of distressed civilians. There are disgruntled rants and angry shouts as Rael pushes them to the front, but the young Minister ignores it. Instead, they are fully focused on Iannis—their safety, their comfort, and getting them free from this new hell.

“I don’t want to leave without you…” Iannis protested, the sadness read clearly in their eyes and written all over their face. They tugged Rael closer, bringing the Minister’s palm up to rest on their cheek. Rael sighed softly in response, leaning inward until their foreheads touched.

“I’m right behind you,” they assured once more, “We’ll be out of this soon. And then… who knows? Maybe we’ll retire in Nuva. Remember that?” Rael reminded—a callback to an old conversation the two had, one about running off together. One Kalar and I had spied on long ago.

Iannis smiled at that, nodding once before releasing their lover. “Yes. I remember.”

There is a glint of want in both of their eyes—a need to embrace, to kiss, before departing for an indeterminate amount of time. But that moment is instead interrupted by the piercing screech of the approaching threat, which now surrounded them in legions. Many covered their ears, wailing from the pain of the cacophonous sound that rang throughout the hall. Even Rael, who was more upset by being forced to push their lover away and towards the prepared ship than they were the painful ringing in their ears.

“GO!”

There is sorrow in Iannis’ eyes, but they are quick to maneuver themselves inside, power up the pod, and eject themselves into the darkened skies of their old home.

Rael’s eyes stay locked with theirs, never breaking that gaze until the door completely shut and Iannis was gone.

There was no time to lament. Not with so many others that needed saving. That needed their guidance.

They instead turned their attention to the frightened mob, not focusing on the quelling pain in their heart, nor the looming threat that now surrounded them in large tendrils that eclipsed their view of the sky. What was most important now was their escape. Their survival.

But that would never come to pass.

The onyx tendrils, now astounding in their size, crashed their way through the takeoff strip and into the massive hall. Gasps and screeches could be heard all around as many began running from the beast. Some were quick to slice away at the flailing ligaments, only for twice as many to grow back in its place. Others were unlucky in their escape and fell prey to its infectious touch, the inky black veins pressing through their pale skin, their screech halting to a pained, soft wail as they fell unconscious to the floor, their corrupted tsanistas following them into darkness.

Now Rael had the impossible task of both fighting this monster and taming a panicked crowd. It was only a few moments ago that such a responsibility didn’t fall on their shoulders. And now it was as if the weight of the world came crashing down.

Fighting turned out to be a fruitless endeavor, as the tendrils would grow back and fight with more ferocity than it did before. Those who fought alongside her fought too cautiously, in fear of the death that awaited them should it come in contact with their skin.

And then there were those that had escaped, their pods buzzing through the air away from the madness on land. Rael and I could see them more clearly as the tendrils pulled away from the windows, following the others through the newly formed entrance. They could see Iannis’ pod. Rael had memorized every aspect about it, from the colors down to the patterns etched along the sides. Iannis was the furthest out—the closest to safety. The closest to being free from the chaos.

That is, until their pod fell.

It was the oddest thing. It was as if the machine itself just… died. Stopped working right there in the sky. No rhyme or reason for it, nothing that could’ve been predicted—a room full of technopaths would have known if the ship was at risk of failure. But there were no such signs. And still, Iannis began freefalling from the sky, down into the mess of wiry limbs and hellish monsters. Ones that all but consumed and tore apart their pod as they crash landed into the heap.

Iannis was gone.

Rael was still. Very still. Practically catatonic. The reaction was unsettling, but expected given they’d just watch their lover die before their eyes. But I could tell something was off—something was worse. It was as if something snapped inside of Rael at that moment. As if they’d just watch the world—their entire world—implode before them in an instant. And nothing, not a single solitary fucking thing, mattered anymore.

Something was off.

Rael leapt away from the ceiling, where they remained perched and away from the black fronds, and blinked towards the expansive window. There was no reason to go for the ships—they were all destroyed, along with their exit. There was no reason for them to go back for their people—they were dead weight; they’d merely slow them down. All Rael needed to do—all Rael wanted to do—was run. Get away from the madness. The trauma. The anguish. The guilt. The loss that now weighed so heavily on them.

Rael needed to run.

Run.

Run.

There was protest from behind. The people of Camer—Rael’s people—both angered and bewildered by their actions. The way the young Minister slammed their fist against the thick glass, and when that didn’t work formed their tsanista into a large maul. Bang after bang after bang, until that glass cracked.

They kept going. Any attempt to pull them away was met with violent resistance. They kept going, until that crack grew larger, branching out further along the transparent surface. Until it cracked more and more and more, until… it opened.

The dry, cool air against Rael’s face was cathartic. But it was not enough to deter them. Nor were the cry of their people from behind.

Run.

 As soon as the glass shattered away, Rael—face covered in tears and sweat and blood—leapt through, down into the abyss that awaited them.

They could see it… Iannis’ smiling face, waiting for them. Calling out to them. They wept more at the thought.

They could see Aesir. Sula. Kalar and Umvis.

They could see their family, waiting for them.

And with a few more tears shed, Rael shut their eyes, and clutched me with all their might. Their tsanista forms around us, and instead of falling into the darkness below, we skyrocketed up. Out into the open sky. Away from the darkness. Away from their love.

Away from their people. The people they were meant to protect. Soon to be devoured by that very darkness.

Maybe some would survive, I thought to myself. Maybe some would find their way through that human-sized hole in the thick glass and fight their way free. Maybe they wouldn’t be consumed by the onyx beast whose tendrils now flooded the entire room, shattering whatever was left of that window.

But all I could see from behind us, as we escaped with nothing but our lives and the tears falling from Rael’s wide eyes, was death.

I don’t think Rael remembers any of this. There was no mention of it again once we made it to Earth. Not remorse, nor anger or grief. Not even acceptance. Even indifference I could take.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all. As if repressed. Buried. Forgotten.

I don’t think Rael remembers any of this…

I think I’d like to forget it too.

PART 2

February 12th, 2020. 02:30 PM.

I spent several years in therapy as a kid. A part of my prescribed treatment for ADHD and anxiety. I always thought that after it ended things would go back to normal. That I’d be fine. That I’d never have to sit across the room from another shrink again.

And yet here I was, in another pristine, white-walled room, rapidly shaking my leg up and down as I focused more on the sound of the ticking clock than the words coming out of my therapist’s mouth. It wasn’t like it was anything I hadn’t heard before. Another potential update on my medication (increasing my dosage for antidepressants, unsurprisingly), alongside another long monologue on how to deal with “stressful situations…”

What classified as “stressful” in her mind, I wonder? Could it even mildly compare to anything I’d been through over the past two years?

Let’s go down the list…

Vehement harassment, both online and off. Multiple stalkers, one of which assaulted me in my home, and another who shot my girlfriend. Abducted twice. Drugged. Several near-death experiences. Traumatizing “dreams” so vivid it feels like I’m actually living through them. And of course, we can’t forget, stumbling across the remains of my dead relatives after narrowly escaping the entities that destroyed my mother’s entire race. I still have yet to truly unpack the effect that had on my psyche.

Stressful situations…

And this isn’t including the mess I was tangled in now. Most Wanted in Ulteria’s biggest metropolis. Manufacturing weapons for an underground vigilante group. Trying to save the life of my mom’s kidnapped ex-lover, who’s fate was still up in the air. Picking up the pieces of my fumbled career. All while dealing with this newfound pressure to act like everything is fine and none of this is going on…

Not to mention, I made a man explode a couple of months ago…

There’s only so much one person can take. And that threshold is lower for someone who’s mental health is already on the brink.

I was at my limit…

And yet, I still felt like I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t express just how overwhelmed and helpless I was feeling. Even here, a place that was meant precisely for all of that. I was just… frozen. Because who would understand? Who could I burden with any of this? And did I want to burden them? Just to be met with the same disregard? The same spiel about how everyone’s gone through hardships, but they only make us “stronger” people in the end, and that I’m “strong” just for surviving?

…What’s the point of survival if there’s hardly any of me left?

“…Takajima-san? Did you hear me?”

I blinked several times, my head shooting up to face the therapist after breaking out of my trance.

How long had I spaced out for…?

“Mm… I’m sorry…?”

Dr. Ogiwara only blinked twice at me in response, letting out a long sigh as she adjusted her glasses, though her soft smile never left her face. It was almost… disquieting. Her calmness. How at ease she could be even when my life was in disarray. Even when I was being the shittiest patient imaginable, not taking my treatment seriously at all.

“Takajima-san… you need to know that this?” She gestured between herself and me, “Only works if you want it to.”

She uncrossed her legs, resting her journal on her lap as she straightened. Her expression was serious suddenly. Intense. Her gaze was fixated on my own. I responded with tension, eyebrows knitting together slightly as the shaking in my leg suddenly ceased, unable to break eye contact with her.

“You’re constantly late or cancelling sessions. And when you’re here you don’t listen. You hardly ever speak either. Never disclosing too much, omitting details, avoiding difficult conversations… how can I help if you refuse to be open?”

I winced, finally breaking away from her locked-on gaze. The bounce in my leg returned once more, and I bit my lip, staring at my lap being unsure of how to answer. The accusation wasn’t wrong. Far from it. But I wasn’t ready to admit that.

“These sessions aren’t meant to turn into long lectures, Miu. We need to develop healthy coping mechanisms for you. That sort of progress only comes from work, and that can’t be one-sided. I believe in your ability to get better, but you need to believe that too.”

I nodded once, still wordless in my responses. Still focusing on the sound of the ticking clock. I didn’t need to see her face to feel the disappointment radiating off of her and in my direction.

“Our time is up for today. Would you like to meet the same time next week?”

“…Raincheck.” I murmured softly, finally looking up to meet her eyes. Another disappointed look coupled with a single nod. Wordlessly, I gathered my things, giving a polite bow and muttering a quick “thanks” before hurrying out of the room and back onto the street.

I don’t know if I’m capable of changing. I want to be—I desperately want to be. But I’ve had my guard up for so long that breaking them down feels near impossible. It’s hard. It’s scary. It’s…

It’s easier to bury things… or at least, it was easier.

I don’t know if that’s true anymore.

March 1st, 2020. 03:00 AM.

I like distractions. Meaningless, in-the-moment distractions. The more temporarily gratifying, the better. But with how much chaos has entered my life as of recent, I hardly have time for any. No parties. Fewer dates. Hardly any sleep, with me sneaking away in the dead of night to do… this. This work I’ve sworn myself to. Laboring over workbenches cluttered with deconstructed gadgets and half-finished bionics—one of which we were finalizing today.

We had yet another installation to proceed with.

“Xh’ilussen nhxini!” The burly Nuvassi man spat at Vhiska—the young workshop hand—as she continued adjusting the tourniquet around his arm. She matched his scowl with one of her own before securing the device around his bulky bicep and returning to monitoring the readings panning across the tablet screen—an array of numbers and Talurian script as the last of the prosthetic arm’s programming was being installed.

In comparison to V, my approach was far gentler. I offered a soft smile once I noticed the young engineer was preoccupied, inquiring whether the harness was too tight in whatever broken Nuvassi Talurian I knew and adjusting it accordingly. My conversational skills weren’t top tier, but I could still piece together sentences, and I understood enough that small talk didn’t come too hard once he began carrying the conversation. Despite his more taciturn demeanor upon our first meeting, the older gentleman—Vhando, he said his name was—had a surprising amount of information to share. He was originally from the Southern Protectorates. His parents worked as mail carriers, running an independent business that primarily serviced lower income families. Most courier companies were self-reliant at the time. That is, until the Xhinith Corporation began buying out those businesses. One by one, they gathered under a single umbrella. A single conglomerate. Nearly the entire industry in the Protectorates had been monopolized. But his parents didn’t comply.

“They died in a fire…” he said in his rough dialect, sighing as he massaged his stubbled beard, “In our warehouse. A spontaneous one, or so we thought. They… they was thinkin’ they could save the cargo, but… it was too widespread.” He paused, shaking his head. “To this day, I think it’s the most foolish thing they ever done… valuin’ packages over their own lives. And leaving a boy…”

He stopped there, and I frowned. “You don’t have to keep goi—”

“I moved to Gan’em after that,” he continued, “Started working as a scrapper, peelin’ n’ sellin’ whatever parts I could. Until I ran into your bunch of… damn huviarr’xi.” He snickered, his disposition suddenly jovial as he gave a sly wink in Sai’s direction, who replied with a role of his eyes. I mimicked Sai, coupled with a shake of my head as I flickered a glance between the two of them. I continued to draw a band of short, black lines along Vhando’s bicep, not bothering to interrupt their bickering.

It was interesting seeing not just Sai, but the entire team in such a relaxed state. Things were always so serious up until now, with working on gathering supplies, securing connections, and fortifying our little hideout. But now that things were coming together, the team seemed more… at ease. Like they felt safe—right where they wanted to be. I envied that. But at least what I was doing would serve a purpose. I was doing good, helping to fight against oppression. And I was saving the life of someone important to my mother.

At least… I hope.

“Looks like we’re ready to go.” Vhiska turned to me and nodded once, the mechanical prosthetic in her hands. I finished up drawing the dotted lines on Vhando’s arm and walked away from him with a smile, rolling my eyes as the banter between him and Sai continued.

“Everything… looks good…” My eyes scanned over the code on the screen and the cybernetic arm, checking for any discrepancies. I knew there would be none—I designed it after all—but I was stalling. The next part was… gruesome. Installation always was. Usually, I could stomach it until the end, but today… the arm. I don’t know what it is about it, but the very thought caused my stomach to churn violently. With every passing second, I could feel the small beads of sweat form on my already pale face.

{ I don’t think  I can do this… }

[ How come? ]

{ I just can’t. }

[ Then express so. I don’t understand why this upsets you so deeply… you’ve done such an operation a dozen times by now. Literally—I have kept count. ]

{ Yeah, but… just not today. I— }

“Miu!” V interjected; an impatient expression was worn on her face. “Is it done? Vhando’s got a locale to hit tomorrow, we gotta have this done—”

“I’m fine.” I responded quickly—a little too quickly. “It’s done. Let’s, um… let’s get this over with.”

[ Are you sure? ]

{ Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just a cold or something, I guess. I can get through this. }

[ Your heart rate and temperature are abnormally high… but with your Camerian biology, human illnesses should not— ]

{ I said I’m fine. } I cut them off. And that was the end of it.

Sai prepared the saw. Vhando extended his arm along the rest while Vhiska prepared the anesthetic, but as soon as the needle came close to his skin, Vhando’s hand quickly reached out to catch V’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She looked up at him, confused and shocked.

“Waste of time.” He shook his head. “I’m a big boy. Ion’ need it.”

We all exchanged looks of horror—all except for Sai, who seemed unbelievably calm given the circumstances.

“Maybe you should reconsider,” I piped up, “This isn’t like… being shot or stabbed, this is—”

“I know what it is,” Vhando retorted, his face turned stony. The serious expression is broken slowly, as one side of his lips twitched into a small smirk. “I don’t need it.”

I gulped. Hard. Vhiska still glared at him, worry written all over her face. Sai, still unphased, began lining up the saw.

My hands were shaking now. Every inch of me would be if I hadn’t been trying my absolute hardest to not move an inch.

[ Perhaps you shouldn’t do this… ]

{ I… I… }

I can do this… I can do this…

I can’t.

Like I said. Installation was always gruesome.

As soon as the saw’s loud humming began to fill the room, Sai pulled down with all his might. It was a clean cut, quick and without complication. The only sound filling the room after was Vhando’s cries—a mixture of painful wailing and unsettling laughter—all while Vhiska rushed to hold him down.

It was my turn now. All I needed to do was walk up and attach the new limb… but I couldn’t. I was frozen in place, clutching the arm in my hands, the gears and apparatuses whirring and whizzing as my powers took over, disrupting the device. The shaking that started in my hands now coursed through every muscle of my body. And my breathing, it quickened faster than my heartbeat did.

I was losing control, little by little. Like a disrupted machine, coding and mechanism all jumbled and fried. But all I could do was stare at that arm on the floor, violet blood pooling out of the severed end and spreading across the reflective metal floor.

Vhando’s arm.

No… Pixul’s arm.

Or is it Vhando’s… Pixul’s…

It was hard to differentiate reality from the nightmare inside my head at that moment. I couldn’t hear Vhiska shouting at me, I couldn’t feel Sai shaking me, or Red’s low vibration against my chest. I couldn’t see Vhando lying unconscious on that exam table. I couldn’t see anything… except that arm.

Pixul’s arm. I was convinced now.

And Pixul lying right next to it, clutching the stab wound in her stomach, blood coating the floors.

There was blood dripping on her head. Slowly. Drip, drip, drip… but from where?

I lifted my head even more slowly, trembling as my eyes looked towards the ceiling. Right at the source of that dripping liquid. And my eyes widened at the sight.

It was Iannis, hanging hog-tied from their ankles. Beaten bloody and slashed open. Mutilated, eviscerated, but alive. And trembling more than I was.

“Save me…” they whimpered. “Save… me…”

Now I couldn’t breathe at all.

Suddenly, the prosthetic is wrenched away from my grasp. The vision blurs, then slowly disappears. No more Iannis. No more Pixul. Her arm was gone too, and in its place was Vhando’s. all I could see now was Vhiska rushing to attach the device. All I could feel was Sai’s hands gripping me as he carried me away from the scene and out the room, the sliding door quick the shut behind us.

I’m rushed up the stairs and out of the hideout. The sidewalks were empty—unsurprising at this time of night. The cool air offered some small comfort against my now pale, clammy skin.

“Miu. Breathe,” Sai urged, still maintaining his calm demeanor from before. I was always in awe of just how collected he was. Even through things like this—the illegal trading, the limb chopping, the blood, the violent excursions, the theft, the murder… everything. Through everything, he remained so… serene. I envied him for it.

Eventually my quickened breaths had steadied to a normal rate, no longer in a state of panic. Embarrassed, I pulled away from him, crossing my arms and averting my gaze downward.

“Thanks…” I mumbled, still refusing to meet his gaze. He didn’t respond, however. He only watched in silence. Just for a moment, though.

“Earth treats,” He broke the tension, and I shot my head up to look at him with a quirked brow.

“You promised me some—what’s it called… ice cream?”

I sighed, uncrossing my arms and softening my expression. A small smile returned my face as I finally caught on. He was giving me just what I needed.

Distractions.

March 1st, 2020. 03:44 AM.

There weren’t many ice cream shoppes open at this time of night. Luckily, 7/11 was open 24 hours a day.

I went in alone, grabbing a few pints of ice cream from the freezer—chocolate, cookies n’ crème, matcha, and classic vanilla. There was no way of knowing what Sai’s favorite flavor might be—they don’t really have ice cream where he’s from, after all—so having a few options to work from would be both beneficial for the future, and interesting to observe his reaction when trying the cold dessert for the first time.

I brought the ice cream out to the rooftop of the conbini, being sure that no one was watching before flying up to meet with Sai. I kept the cookies n’ crème for myself, and slid the other three flavors his way. Sitting down, we clinked spoons and dug in.

He hated the matcha. The chocolate he didn’t mind, but I could tell it wasn’t his favorite. I started on my own serving, watching carefully while he tried the final pint of vanilla.

And he adored it.

“Really?!” I eyed him with a shocked expression, “Of all the choices… Well, you can never go wrong with plain old vanilla, I guess.” I shook my head and giggled.

“Is this not a popular choice or something?” He raised a brow towards me, a puzzled look painted on his face.

“Well… it’s just not the most exciting choice, y’know? Vanilla’s nice, but… not the most fun flavor. It’s too plain! Boring! Dull!”

He huffed a dry laugh, shoveling another large scoop into his mouth. “There’s nothing dull about this.” He raised another spoonful towards me in toast before wolfing it down. All I could do was role my eyes and smile.

I hadn’t finished much of my ice cream, only digging into it with my spoon, staring at the specs of chocolate swirled inside. It’s funny; sweets tend to be the thing that always cheered me up, that pulled me away from whatever negative thoughts or feelings ran through my head. I owed that in part to Nami, whose almost addictive love for ice cream I always found endearing. But now was different, and maybe it was because I wasn’t with her. Maybe it was because, instead, Sai was here. Sai. A living representation of all the shit I’ve gotten myself into the past few months. And now my “happy place” wasn’t as effective. Those thoughts still clouded my mind, and I had no way of flushing them out. Eventually, I was gonna drown in them.

“You’re quiet.” Sai broke me away from my thoughts. I shot up to look at him, mouth opening and shutting when the words failed to come out.

“I…umm…” I fell silent again, averting my gaze when I realized I didn’t have an answer. Or at least, I didn’t want to answer. Not honestly, anyway.

“I’m just, y’know… it’s been a long day? Lots of… data proofing and coding and fine tuning and… Just a lot to deal with, yeah? I’m just tired. I’ll be fine. We all have to be eventually.” I finally wolfed down a scoop of ice cream, then looked up to smile at him. His expression was unchanged.

“Uh huh.” He stated, unconvinced. “And what happened down there, that was just you being tired?”

My smile faded, and I stared down at my unfinished ice cream again. My hands were trembling again, thinking about the vision I saw. Was it a vision? A hallucination? How long could I expect my mind to play tricks on me like that…

“It was…” I tried my best to answer, gripping the pint more tightly in hopes it would somehow cease my shaking. It didn’t.

“I don’t know what it was,” I answered finally with a loud sigh, “I think maybe I’m just stressed? With everything going on, I’m just… not used to it? But I don’t know why it happened. Every other installation went fine, but this one… I wasn’t ready for it. How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t take the anesthetic—which we should have given him anyway, by the way. And to see all the blood, and the way her arm lob off so easily like that—”

“Her?” He raised a brow to that, and I fell silent. Stiff. Not realizing my mistake until it was too late.

“U-uhh, his. His arm. Sorry…”

I stared long and hard into that ice cream now. But I could hear Sai’s heavy sigh. I could hear him shuffling as he moved closer to me, resting a hand on my shoulder while his second pair of arms held his ice cream in place.

“I get it. Okay? I’m… I’m not a stranger to that happening. It’s happened to me too.”

There wasn’t anything I could say. I just remained there, unmoving. Listening.

“I just say this because… I know our line of work is… unique. There aren’t a lot of people who understand what we go through. But you’re not alone in this. And I won’t force you to talk about it or confront whatever you’re feeling now. But if you need anything—anything at all… just ask. I got your back.”

We sat there in silence for some time as I let his words sink in. I wanted to say something—anything. To pour out all of my thoughts and feelings. My anxieties, my fears. I wanted to vent about all the things that have been tormenting me. But just like in the shrink’s office, the words never came. Faltering as soon as they formed in my mind.

Instead, I shifted the topic away from me.

“Is Vhando gonna be okay?” I asked softly.

“He should be, yes… you don’t have to worry about that,” Sai smiled, butting his shoulder with mine, “It takes a lot more than a missing arm to kill us. Talurian blood, and all…”

A lot more than a missing arm… a lot more…

“Do you… do you think Pixul’s still alive?” I asked, my voice cracking as I turned to face him. His smile was gone now, replaced with the serious expression I was used to.

“I… I don’t know. Things have been… silent,” he responded after a while, “Either way, we shouldn’t concern ourselves with it now—”

“Shouldn’t concern ourselves?!” My voice raised as I shifted my entire body to face him, knocking my pint of ice cream on its side as I sat it down roughly. “We literally stabbed her in the back and then chopped her arm off! We destroyed her entire club! Her whole operation! Her entire way of life. And to top it all off, robbed her of her weapons vault right after!! If I were her, I’d want our heads on a fucking stake! We can’t afford to ‘not concern ourselves’ when it’s our lives on the line!”

“Miu—” His voice was quiet, but stern—very stern. “Calm. Down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down… I will NOT calm down!” I shot back, “I will NOT—”

“MIU!” He raised his voice finally, glaring right at me as he cut me off. “Lower you damn voice! Now listen… We’ve been doing this for months now. If Pixul was gonna make a move, she would’ve done so by now. So she’s either dead or she doesn’t care. Besides, our HQ is secured and untraceable thanks to Vhiska, and on top of that I’m pretty sure we’ve got the numbers now to take on whatever threat may come our way. She wouldn’t even have the resources to come find us considering how much she’s lost. Either way, it isn’t our problem anymore.”

I still didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t in the mood for arguing either—hell, I was hardly in the mood for ice cream anymore. I didn’t have the energy for it. I was just so… so…

Suddenly the tears began streaming down my face, and the sob I’d been choking back finally broke free. Frantically, I started wiping away tears as they fell, only for more to emerge and replace them. I hid my tear-soaked face in my palms as Sai looked on, surprised by my sudden unraveling.

“I’m so tired…” I whimpered; my voice muffled by the hands that still hid my messy face. “I’m so fucking exhausted… aren’t you tired of all this??”

Sai said nothing this time. Only watched as I continued in my sudden fit.

I was able to collect myself again after a while, face wet with tears and puffy from crying. We both sat in complete silence for what felt like an eternity, the quiet only ever broken by the occasional sniffle.

So much for distractions.

I don’t’ remember the last time I felt genuinely at peace with everything in my life. It seems as though recent years have been a series of small glints of happiness, later to be marred with chaotic situations I could’ve never imagined myself in, that I somehow always stumbled into despite never trying to.

Stressful situations.

But what’s the point in wallowing in it now, right? I was here. It was my choices that got me here, and now I had to deal with it. But that was easier said than done, and my old methods of “dealing with” situations out of my control were to simply not deal with them. To fill my day and my head with whatever I found gratifying in the moment. And that wasn’t working anymore. Not my hobbies, or my job, or my friends… As much as I loved all those things, none of it was helping. Because deep down, I was still hiding this double life from everyone. Holding all my feelings too close to the chest. And now here I was, vying desperately for peace of mind, but it was too late for that now. I was still racked with anxiety more severe than I’ve felt in years with no sign of release.

I just wanted a break from it all. But there seemed to be none in sight.

Unless…

No… no. It was stupid. Reckless. Perhaps the most reckless thought to ever cross my head.

And yet… it couldn’t be any more stupid than the decisions I’ve made in the past. And more than anything, I just wanted… I wanted to feel like myself again. Like Miu again. Or at least, the Miu everyone loves. The Miu that’s easier for me to love.

I just needed a little more help with that.

Sai exhaled softly, his breath forming a fleeting, misty cloud in the cold night air. “We should, um… we should head back soon—”

“Can you do something for me?” I interrupted with the inquiry, shifting so that my whole body faced him now, eyes locked with his and filled with intent.

He raised a brow at me, “Sure… yeah? If it’s within my capabilities I can try…”

“You… you said you’d do anything for me right? Anything at all? I just need to ask?”

His eyes narrowed at me, “What are you getting at here?”

My jaw clenched, the courage to ask for this was still building up within me. I stared down at my hands. Did I really want to do this? Was it worth it? Was there not a better way?

I’m sure there was… but it wouldn’t be the easier way.

And that’s what made it worth it.

“I need…” I lift my head, looking Sai straight in his eye with all the confidence I could muster in that moment.

“I need you to get me something.”

August 25th, 2020. 7:15 AM.

My brother had a gambling addiction years ago. I remember vividly the effect it had on him. The compulsive spending, the borrowed money that somehow vanishing overnight, the constant disappearing acts (which never got better once he stepped into his… new profession). But more than anything, I remember how it warped his perception of the world around him. How it changed him, from his morals to the way we treated his family. The way he treated me.

But at the same time, I understand what got him there, what pushed him into making that choice. It was the thrill of it, a danger you felt somehow in control of. That’s the high-risk-high-reward aspect of it, right? No matter how bad it was, no matter how further down that rabbit hole he fell, he couldn’t let go.

It was easy, I imagine, to get addicted to that sort of euphoria.

But that wasn’t me. No… this wasn’t an over-indulgence by any means. This was self-medicating, which was completely different from what Mitsuo went through. This would be different. I would be different.

Though Sai wasn’t convinced of that initially.

“Mhiconnia?! Really, Miu?!” he protested, “Do you REALLY think that’s the best idea? Like, do you understand what that shit does?? It doesn’t help you the way you’re thinking it will! It will fuck you up.”

“That’s only if you use a lot,” I countered, keeping my voice as calm as I could manage, “Maybe if I just have a little bit at a time—and only when I absolutely need it, of course—I can… I dunno… get back to myself? I won’t, like, abuse it or anything, I promise! I just… I need something to help. Something faster than… what I’m doing now. Whatever that is...”

He shook his head, huffing a dry laugh as he crossed both pairs of arms and began pacing back and forth on the roof. I’d never seen him this angry before. All I could think of while watching him was the face of my third-grade teacher, the time it turned bright red with anger after my friend and I conspired to free our class pet Randy the Turtle. I thought I was doing the right thing in that moment, but the reaction of my superiors, and the indignation on my own mother’s face, painted a different picture; it didn’t match with my reasoning, my reality. And much like my mother, Sai wasn’t having any of it.

But I still tried to reason. Because like with Randy the Turtle, I still felt that I was right. That there was no harm in what I was doing. That my reasoning made sense.

The argument ended there, however. Sai leapt from rooftop to rooftop until disappearing into the night, leaving me with a pile of melted ice cream.

I didn’t see him for a week after that. I spent an entire week regretting everything I said, reevaluating my thought process. The self-loathing burrowed itself deep in my psyche the longer I was left to ponder. Had it been a day longer, maybe it would have devoured me. Maybe I would’ve changed my mind completely, realizing the error in my self-destructive ways and fall victim to the depressive episodes and regular therapy visits. Just one day was all it would’ve taken. One more day…

But Sai came sooner. He had a small vial in his hands and look of disappointed buried deep in his eyes.

“Just. A little.” He repeated my words from the other night. All I could do was nod. And that was the end of it.

At least, it would do for the moment.

And holy fuck, did it work better than expected.

The vial was more than enough, actually. I never took more than I needed—not nearly the amount that Pixul dosed me with during our first encounter. A small dab was enough, sometimes worn on the eyelids or the apples of my cheeks in a way that resembled makeup. Just a small amount to get me through the day. A little more for the more stressful days. And some more when the panic attacks return…

And when I ran out, I asked Sai for more.

I was more than back to myself again. I was… more present in a way. More focused. More productive. Friendlier, bubblier, more excitable. I was back to myself again. The Miu everyone loved, and the Miu I loved to be. I could enjoy my life again, which only cemented in my mind that this was exactly what I needed.

And when I ran out, I asked for more. And more.  And more…

It was hard to tell if the vials were getting smaller or the amount in each one lesser, because each delivery seemed to go quicker than the last. Frustration set in when the wait for more seemed to lengthen. Even while everything seemed to be looking up for me—from living with my girlfriend, to my career finding resurgence, to even starting my own business—I was still… fixated. Obsessed with maintaining a happiness I thought seemed unattainable without that magical dust. Fear, a deep-seated fear, that my sadness, loathing, and isolation would come creeping back. That it would come and take everything away from me.

I’m not dependent, I would tell myself. I’m not addicted. I’ll be fine even after this…

But was there an 'after’? Would there ever be? And what did that look like exactly?

Best not to dwell…

It’s been months since that talk on the roof. Months of using Storm’s Tears. Months since Sai and I had a conversation that was longer than three words wasn’t about just work. Months since even Red and I had a heart-to-heart, or any sort of conversation, really…

Months since I last talked to my family.

It seems as though, in an effort to get better, to feel like myself again, I’ve only lost even more. I was starting to wonder if all of this was worth it. Not just the drugs, mind you, but everything—Vitriol, Iannis, Kalar… would any of it amount to anything? There’s been no sign of my mom’s ex-lover since Sai and I escaped that night. And beyond that, any memory that seems to resurface through Red feels like more of a riddle than the last. What was I doing anymore? What was I searching for? What was the purpose? What is—

Too much thinking, I thought. I needed some more. Just to pull myself out of the haze.

It was only a little. Spreading it gently across the eyelids with my ring finger, another smear against my lips. I inhaled once. Exhaled. The thoughts flowed out of me like a tidal wave, being replaced with a sea of bliss. Sweet thoughts. Happy thoughts.

I was fine. We’re all fine. We’re figure it out as we go.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sound at the door shook me out my musing. I jolted from my seat at the vanity and rushed to the living room. It was odd—Nami was out with dogs today, taking them on walks and running other errands, so I wasn’t expecting her back so soon. And if it was her, she would’ve just walked right in. Unless her hands were full, that is. Or it could be a friend, here on a surprise visit. Either outcome would have made since, would have been expected.

But what I was not expecting was this.

“…Mom?!” I exclaimed while answering the door.

“Yes.” Julia stated coolly, standing like a statue in the doorway, their icy, stoic glare piercing a hole straight through my skull. Immediately, they breezed past me, and I nearly stumbled over as I rushed out of the way.

“You haven’t called home in quite a while. The last we heard from you was when you told us about your move.” They walked around the room, carefully inspecting every angle of the apartment from floor to ceiling. “Nice place. Where’s that lover of yours?”

“U-uhh—out! She’s out right now…” I blinked trying to maintain my composure, though that was hard. What on earth were they doing here? And unannounced like that? My head was spinning, the shock and confusion trying so hard to cut its way through the sanguine state brought about by the psychoactive drug. Under normal circumstances, that bewilderment would’ve taken over, invading every facet of my senses. But right now, the Storm’s Tears wouldn’t allow for that. Instead, I was too focused on how happy I was to see them, and how nice they looked in their dingy, grey trench coat, and how pretty their hair was, and how—

“Huh.” Their voice interjected, cutting off my train of thought. They began moving into the kitchen, and I quickly followed after. “A shame. I would love to meet them. One of these days. When you decide we’re all worth speaking to again.”

I opened my mouth to say something—a rebuttal, an excuse, anything to clear my name—but quickly shut it once I realized I had nothing of value to say. Nothing to defend myself with. I felt bad—horrible, even. But even now, I was unsure what sort of reaction the truth would garner me. Would it be the genuine concern any mother would have for their self-destructive child, or would it be pure, unbridled fury?

I’m almost certain it’s the last one. It’d be the one I’d deserve anyway.

Their fingers glided across the granite countertops before stopping, leaning against the surface as they eyed me keenly. What were they looking for, I wonder? The truth in my eyes? The guilt? A sign a weakness? It was all there, albeit hidden under and wave of euphoria, but could they still sense it?

The tension… you could cut it with a knife.

Time to lighten the mood, maybe…?

“Stick around and maybe you might!” I laughed—maybe a little too loud—then shrugged playfully as I stumbled into one of the kitchen island chairs. “It’s good that you’re here then, right?! The universe is… is bringing us together! Obaachan always used to say things happen for a reason. Aaand, uhhhhh, this…! Is the reason! You’re welcome.”

Excellent job, I could imagine Red shooting out the sarcasm-drenched words in my head. And they would’ve been more than fair in doing so.

I cupped my face with my hands and stared back into those intense eyes, and the second I did something… shifted. There was a clear change in their demeanor—a darkness that entered their expression. My ima’s eyes began to narrow as they examined me further, the tensing of their jaw ceasing altogether.

Now I was starting to feel unnerved.

“Are you drunk?”

“Wh-what?” I stammered, caught off guard by the question. “N-no… no! No, I am not.”

They straightened and began slowly circling around the island, closing the gap between us. My smile disappeared, and once they were close enough, they leaned in, keeping their voice low. Though that didn’t stop their words from cutting like steel.

“Are you high, Cira?”

I gulped. Loudly.

I hated that name. Not for the reason many would think, mind you—it wasn’t archaic-sounding or harsh on the ears or anything like that. It was a nice name. I hated it because my mother only ever used that name when I was in trouble—deep trouble. It was an easy way of telling just exactly where I landed on the scale of pissing-them-the-fuck-off.

And right now, that scale was reading pretty damn high.

“U-uh, I, uhh…” I floundered with my words again, unable to answer—not truthfully, anyway. But I was definitely in no position to lie convincingly either.

“N-nooo…noooooo. I don’t, umm, do that. Like, ever.” I lied, letting out a soft, nervous laugh as I awkwardly crossed my arms. They remained still, and unconvinced.

“Are you high, Cira?” They asked again.

They could see me folding into myself as they pressed further, and this time they didn’t give me a chance to answer. Instead, they grabbed my face roughly with one hand, the iciness in their piercing white eyes growing colder, threatening to freeze me in place. I was struck with the realization that they knew exactly what was going on.

Then, the words I never wanted to hear left their lips.

“What the fuck is on your face?”

I was petrified. It was as if I lost all ability to formulate a single word or line of thought in that moment.

Too late to lie now…

My mother released my face, rushing out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom. I quickly hopped from my seat and scurried behind my ima, only to find them rummaging through the drawers and pill cabinet. They took out several pill bottles—most vitamins, some painkillers, prescribed medication—and began tossing them at me.

“Where is it? Huh? Can’t be these—” They put a few bottles back, while the thrown ones would hit either me or the wall as they clamored to the floor. I stood there silently, just watching them.

“Where is it? Speak up.” Their voice rose in volume, their tone getting harsher with each passing word, mixing English with their native Camerata. “You didn’t have a problem lying before, why so quiet now?”

I’d wince in response to the shouting, fumbling with my fingers behind my back. It was as if I’d lost all ability to communicate properly. Incapable of neither explanation nor defense. All I could do was take it—stand there as they marched from room to room, rummaging through drawers and beneath blankets and pillows and an onslaught of dog toys in silent fury.

They eventually did find it, however. All without my help. As they entered the bedroom, their eyes landed on it: the small vial of shimmering dust, sitting on the vanity amidst a number of lipsticks and eyeliner pens. Stupid of me to leave it out, and in such an obvious place too. They lifted it with their hands, slowly twisting it between their fingers. Then they turned to me.

“Where the fuck did you get this?”

I couldn’t stay silent anymore, not while they were this angry. And I couldn’t lie either. Not now. Because as I watched my mother hold that vial in their hands, I realized that it wasn’t just the drugs that were the problem. No… it was where they came from. The place of origin. The source of their—no, our—trauma.

“S-so, umm…” I mumbled, fumbling with my words, “A-a lot happened recently that I haven’t been… fully honest about—”

“No shit.” They cut me off again, “Where. Did you. Get. This?”

They approached me, holding the Storm’s Tears to my face. I stood there trembling slightly, trying to avoid eye contact as the guilt washed over me in waves. They knew the answer to their question. They just wanted to hear me say it.

“…I went to Nuva—but wait, hear me out okay? There’s more to it than you think—”

“How?!” They shouted, and my eyes shot immediately to the ground, hands clasped together and held against my chest. It was so easy for them to make me feel so small. Like a child hanging their head as their parent scolds them.

 “I, umm… I met a girl… named Pixul.” I looked up to meet their glare now, “She was, uhh… from Gan’em, I think she said? She was able to find me through my… last venture to… you know…”

They pulled away and sighed heavily, pacing angrily back and forth. They were trying to make sense of all of this, how their own child had come so close in contact to the one place they’ve spent their life running from. And how that same child is now somehow involved in the worst it has to offer.

If only they knew just how bad it really was…

I squirmed where I stood, the words leaving me as a squeak. “L-look, I’m—”

“Do you know how much danger you’ve put yourself in? How much danger we could ALL be in? Because of you?!” They were shaking with anger as the shouted, the force of their words strong enough to back me against the wall. “And now this… you’re hooked onto this shit? Do you know what this does? It will fucking kill you! That’s if the cretins that gave you this don’t kill you first!”

They were right… everything they were saying… was right.

Sadness, shame, and anger churned within me like a dark cloud as their words cut into me. It swelled and boiled and spilled over the surface in a caustic brew. And all I could do—all I could muster—was uncontrollable weeping.

The tears fell instantly, overflowing as loud sobbing began to fill the room. I sunk to the floor, back still against the wall as I hid my dampened face behind my hands. The pain, the inner conflict, the frustration and turmoil I kept so tightly bottled inside was now overwhelming, and pouring out right there, on the floor of my bedroom. Right in front of my mom, who’s visceral anger was now replaced with shock, guilt, and deep-seated concern.

Julia softened their features, sighing as they set the vial down on the vanity and kneeled down to my level.

“Miu, I—”

“I DIDN’T WANT TO, OKAY?!” I blurted out, uncovering my puffy, wet face to glare at them. “They came for me, okay? And the only reason I went was because I needed answers about these horrible dreams I keep having. Dreams of all the awful things that your ima did.”

They flinched at the sudden shift in energy, at the accusatory finger I pointed in their direction. Realizing my anger was getting the best of me, I folded into myself more, averting my eyes.

“I needed answers… Red and I did. Because Red didn’t know anything. I thought I’d get something, anything, if I went… even if it was little.” My voice cracked, and the tears began to flow again. “But all I got was thrown into the thick of all the crime and violence of that fucking city and I’m all fucked up now because of it. And I can’t even get out of it if I wanted to… I can’t leave any of this behind. So yeah. I use it because it helps. It’s a distraction—a temporary one, sure, but it’s… it’s all I’ve got.”

Julia’s frown deepened. They were sitting now, legs crossed as they listened.

“I… see…” they began, “Why is it that you can’t leave? And why… why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you trust me?” They held up the vial again. “Because this? This isn’t going to help you the way you think it will. But I can.”

The tension returned in my body. I felt every muscle lock in place at the questions, knowing the answer to both was the same.

“Miu.” Their voice turned stern. “Talk to me.”

“I… I…” I swallowed hard.  The words were there, stuck in the back of my throat, and I was fighting to keep them there. To keep it back and away. To hold onto like I have been for so long. It was like I was comfortable here. So used to this pain that the thought of sharing it with someone else felt foreign—felt scary.

I can’t…

[ Miu. ]

I’m so tired…

[ Miu. It’s time. ] Red spoke again. [ Enough of this. ]

I can’t… I can’t…

I have to.

“I met someone.” I said finally. “Someone who… who knows you.”

Julia’s eyes furrowed, their face tense as the shock hit them.

“Who…?” Their voice was lower, softer, than I was used to hearing. I knew this was going to hurt them.

Enough of this…

I sat up, letting the knees I held close to my chest fall. I took a breath—inhale, then exhale.

Then I said it.

“Their name is Iannis.”

Silence.

Still.

That’s the best way I could describe my mother in that moment. Still—completely still. As if made of stone. The expression remained fixed, the muscles locked in place, as the realization settled into them that Iannis—the long-lost lover they thought dead for so many years—was indeed alive.

“I… I went back to save them, but… they were gone. Pixul took them away before I could get to them. But now I’m working with this guy, he says he’ll help me find them. He… he thinks Iannis may be in Vano.”

Their eyes began moving rapidly now, flickering in every which direction as their breath became tapered. Slowly, I began to realize they were trembling. It was a sight I was familiar with—I found myself in their shoes many times.

“M-mom…?” I said softly, hoping to coax them out of their trance. Nothing.

“…Ima?” I tried again, using the familiar title, the one they were used to. This time they did respond, but not in the way I was hoping.

They didn’t even look at me as they stood from their spot on the floor. Not so much as a glance in my direction as they stormed out of the room. Not even a goodbye as the front door slammed behind them.

And once again I was alone. Alone in an apartment I’d certainly have to clean before Nami returned. But for now, I just sat there. I sat and stared at the place where my mother once was. I looked down in my lap and stared at my tear-soaked hands. I lifted my head and turned towards the vanity, right in the spot where the vial stood.

I stared into the clear tube of silver, glittering dust. My source of happiness when my mind was devoid of any. When nothing else seemed to work. When the stress became too overwhelming.

I stared at it hard, and contemplated. Considered. And the longer I looked, the more that deep hunger began to swell inside me, in the deepest, darkest part of my heart.

I stared. And I stared. And I stared.

And I…

December 1st, 2020. 1:39 AM.

The weeks were starting to feel longer. The days blended together as time went on, and my job—both on the surface and beneath—were starting to feel too… mundane. Repetitive.

I tried to fill my day with distractions. Tried to change up my routine at points just to make things feel livelier. But nothing stuck for long. I still found myself feeling empty. Like a giant hole was carved into my chest and all the joy was sucked out, leaving nothing but an empty husk. A robot without a soul.

That isn’t how I presented myself though. On the surface, I was fine. I was still me. And in a way, pretending I was fine helped, even if only a little. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend at all.

I haven’t talked to my mom since that day.

I thought about calling home, seeing how everyone was. To see how they were doing, given what they now knew. I even considered maybe visiting for the holidays. It’d be a good chance for Nami to finally meet everyone. And moreso, it’d be a nice break from everything going on. But every time I reached for the phone, I was instantly hit with the memory of my mother’s anger. The yelling, the glares, the harsh words. I remember the way it twisted into anguish as I told them the truth—the full truth.

And I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Now I was here, tinkering away at the drone on my worktable, knowing that any semblance of a “break” would be a far-off memory for the foreseeable future.

How long could I close myself off, I wonder? How long until the self-sabotage got to an excruciating point? Was I not already there?

So much left to be seen, I suppose.

Vhiska was with me, standing at the other side of the table. She was running diagnostics on a few photomazers that Sai would be picking up later. I could hear her mumble curses under her breath on occasion as she meticulously examined each device.

I guess the mundanity wasn’t always bad. I liked moments like these. Quiet moments. Where it was just me and the many machines I would soon breathe life into. I preferred working with my hands rather than using my powers; the process was slower, but more intimate. More engaging. This way I wasn’t thinking about…

Yeah… no more of that.

The vial was in my pocket. I hadn’t decided yet if I was going to give it back to Sai or keep it. I went back and forth about it in my head, and the conclusion still remained unfounded. But I knew I had to decide soon, especially with Sai being minutes away from popping right into this very room.

“Hey,” Vhiska nodded their head towards me, “Could you hand me the—”

Cut off mid-sentence by the loud, sudden whirring sound from behind, a bright flash of light accompanying it, we both turned our heads to see Sai, clad in all black, entering the premise with each sword equipped and hilted on his hips and back.

Minutes… more like seconds.

“Hey.” He said simply, taking in our faces. He only glanced in my direction, but gave V a quick nod. “Could you, umm… could you give us a minute?”

Vhiska’s eyes flickered between the two of us, reluctant to leave her place at the table. But with a sigh, she placed the photomazer down and made their way towards the back room, rolling her eyes as she went.

“Guess I’ll go… help Barr with inventory.”

And with that, she was out of the room. Or at least, out of earshot. And Sai and I just remained there in silence, eyes awkwardly glancing at and away from each other over and over again. Things were still tense between us. Business took priority, but ever since I essentially forced him into my role as my dealer, the friendship we once had was dissipated. And that shitty feeling was taking over again.

I was the first to chime up, breaking the awkward pause between us. “Listen, Sai… I just wanted to say that, um… I’m really sorry? And I know that’s not enough… I know it wouldn’t be for me, but… I just want you to know that I’m not gonna ask again. I think that… I think that I’ll be okay without. Or at least, I can learn how…”

Sai only looked at me. The expression on his face was hard to read; there was a pang of guilt there, mixed with turmoil, and a small touch of sadness. Inner conflict, perhaps? Or maybe… heartbreak.

He sighed, pulling his hands from his pockets as he approached me, squatting down with his arms rested on his knees. He didn’t say anything for a while, only staring down as the floor. As if searching for the right words to say. I was starting to think my apology wasn’t enough—obviously, it wasn’t. It was hardly adequate considering the gravity of what I’ve done. Maybe I’ve fucked this up beyond repair. Maybe it was time to give up now. Or was it?

“L-look, Sai, I’m—”

“Sector 8.” He cut me off.

I stared down at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you…”

“Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.”

He lifted his head, staring me right in the eyes. I stared back, disbelief etched into my visage as I finally understood what he was telling me.

“Your friend is indeed in Vano.”

Even seeing it coming didn’t stop the words from hitting me like a truck. It didn’t make the weight of it any lighter either. This was it. This was really it. I had a location. A place, an exact place, pinpointed. The place where Iannis was.

And now all that was left to do was… go get her.

With that sudden realization, I felt that same weight—the weight of the world on my shoulders—threatening to crush me.

“Is there… is there anything else you need?” Sai asked, a look of deep concern in his eyes as he noticed how still I’d become. I wanted to answer—hell, my mind was screaming at me to. But my eyes were directed at the floor. I was still too shaken. Still too hyper-focused on that weight.

And suddenly I was reminded of the weight of a small vial in my pocket.

Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.

There’s so much to do… I need to think. Need to plan…

Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.

I don’t know what to do… how to get there, how to go about this…

Sector 8. Environ 169. District 7.

I need a plan. I need help…

Sector 8.

I need… I need…

Sector 8.

I need to relax…

I lifted my head towards Sai.

“Do you have some more?”

#p: julia

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 6 ⋮ Den Of The Raiju

Request for Entry – Approved. ♪ - Grimes / Violence

Red says all noble-born children in Essa were given titles once they reached a certain age.

I always wondered what mine would’ve been. You’d have to do something noteworthy to receive one, right? Something worth being immortalized. Kalar was the Scourger, simply because of how much raw power they possessed. It made people fear for the day they’d leave nothing but a desecrated wasteland in their wake. Sula, on the other hand, was Stormer’s Bane, a moniker earned for their superior hunting skills against the massive, metal beasts. Aesir was Breath of the Golden Serpent, a reference to an electrifying creature with a wicked tongue from old Camerian legends. Then there’s my mother, who was Dancing Blade, named for the swift elegance of their movements in battle. A fighter with deadly precision and grace. Only to later become Silent Dagger, once their… occupation changed.

The names were all so… menacing. They imposed a specific image that the Aedonnoe family wanted to uphold: one of power. Of fear. They were a family of warriors, after all. They valued strength above all else, so of course they would want their granted titles to reflect that.

Over a year ago, I would have said such a concept didn’t suit me. Only because, up until then, I’d never thought of myself as a warrior. I’d never been in situations that relied solely on the power I possessed to get what I needed. I never had to fight to defend myself. Never needed protecting. I was… just a girl. A normal girl with normal fears, desires, and dreams. I wasn’t the Aedonnoe I would’ve been had my homeland not been destroyed by corrupted forces. Instead, I was the odd one out. The end to a generation of fighters.

That is, until Red came into my life… and now I’m constantly faced with chaos and strife at every turn. Constantly fighting my way through conflict after conflict. Constantly pushing myself, making strides to become a better tsanagar, to be stronger, to be a better Aedonnoe.

And constantly surrounded by aliens.

Aliens in Shinjuku…

It sounded like the title of a very bad sci-fi serial, but somehow it adequately describes what my life has been for the past couple of months.

Aliens in Shinjuku. Ulterians, to be exact. Sai, Miki, Barr’lo, Vhiska, and Yarrna. The small team that made up Vitriol. The one and only answer to the violence in the slums of Gan’em.

And now there was me: their “techie.” A renegade mechanic, fighting in a war against the vile and corrupt, a war I hadn’t known even existed until very recently. A war I had to be a part of, to save someone important to me. Or rather… to my mom.

But it was worth it. Because now I was closer to answers than I ever was before. And I was closer to seeing a new side of myself. Closer to revealing just how much I was truly capable of achieving.

But first, there was work to be done.

It was December 1st, 2019. We were making plans for our first big supplies run.

Sai was our leader when the time came for raids. He conducted stakeouts on warehouses across Gan’em, organized a strike team and assigned roles. Plans were always centered around whatever materials or resources I needed, so my input was always necessary. We had many differences, Sai and I, both in approach and ideals. But over time, we became a pretty dynamic duo. My impulsivity was tempered by his more strategic brain, and in turn I inspired him to take more risks. The real benefit of two leaders, I suppose. Bringing out the best in each other through even are worst habits.

Then there was Miki, our resident expert on stealth and silent infiltrations. She had an aptitude for lurking around corners, squeezing through tight spaces, and knowing just where to strike so that her opponents went down without a sound. She’d signal to us in Talurian sign language once any perimeter was secure, which allowed for the strike team to move in.

Barr’lo and Yarrna: the bruiser and the marksmen. Barr was our demolition expert, gifted with knowledge of both destructive weapons and explosive entrances. They had no problem with making noise, or causing a ruckus. It made them perfectly fit for taking the lead during more… direct encounters. Yarrna, however, chose to hang back, as it always worked in his favor. Long distance was always best for sharpshooters, after all; the more shrouded in the shadows they were, the more effective they could be. And Yarrna never disappointed, always making his shots with such expert precision it almost looked effortless.

He also claimed to have trained Pixul in the past. And judging from her skill alone, it only put my faith in his abilities even more.

Unlike the rest, Vhiska rarely participated in the raids. Her skills weren’t always suited for the field, with hands made for tinkering rather than battle. but what she lacked in physical prowess she made up for with brilliance. She was a security expert, and a prodigious engineer. It made her perfectly suited for the job of further fortifying our hideaway, and an even more excellent workshop hand. I ran all my designs through her, and with little coaching she was able to recreate them with ease, with or without my assistance. She may not be Camerian by blood, but she certainly had a mind like one.

We were a small team, yes, but an effective one. We’d have to be, with the task we were taking on tonight.

Kanda Voks. A large conglomerate specialized in the selling and distribution of building materials, including Talurian alloy. They had their hat thrown into several other rings as well, including military suppliers, Vaanen manufacturers, and the surveillance industry. Warehouses were located in various parts of the continent, the largest of which was situated in the heart of Gan’em. It was also very heavily fortified and guarded.

There was no room for error with this mission. We had to be careful.

“Does everyone remember the plan?” Sai and I whispered in unison, followed by several nods from the rest of the team. We were situated on a rooftop maybe a block or so away from our target. Everyone was preparing, gearing up their weapons and tools, sharpening their blades, setting up our comms, and adorning our faces with reflective metal masks to confuse their facial recognition software. There was an eagerness in the air, a strong desire to get moving, to get this over with. But the more Sai stressed caution, the more our impulsive inclinations were tempered.

About two hours had passed. Miki and Yarrna were busy surveying the patrol of the guards, while Barr made plans for our strike on the inside. Sai went between the three of them, making sure everything was in order, and everyone’s heads were where they should be: focused on the goal. We only had one shot at this, after all.

But me… I stared up at the sky. Watching as the evening turned to night, as the two suns that hung in the air sunk behind the clouds, replaced by six moons and a sky blanketed in darkness.

It was time to move now.

Miki moved in first, leaping from building to building in exceptional bounds, the only sound coming from her being the whistle through the wind as she swiftly made her way towards the perimeter. The guards had begun their usual rotation around the warehouse, which Yarrna monitored carefully from afar through the scope of his rifle. It was Miki, however, that would make the first strike. She singled out each guard, one by one, picking them off too fast for them to respond. Once the first wave of guards was taken care of, our marksmen was able to assist with the second wave, who were far more on edge than the last due to the unseen threat.

Yarrna truly was as good of a shot as he boasted. He incapacitated guards with as much speed and precision as Miki did with her blades, and just as quietly, too. Within a few minutes, our first part of the raid had been completed without a hitch. Not only that, Miki and Yarrna had provided us with a secure way inside.

“Move in.” Yarrna’s thick, Northern Talurian accent echoed throughout the comms, and immediately we set out from our perch and towards the warehouse. Sai and Barr matched Miki’s quickness as they bounded for our desired destination, while I flew in closely behind.

One by one we all shuffled through the vent wrenched open by one of Miki’s swords, while Yarrna maintained watch on the outside. There was a cold dinginess we were met with compared to the busy metropolis outside these walls. It was perhaps the first place I’ve visited in Nuva filled with nothing but complete lifelessness. Not that it mattered, anyway. We weren’t here to sightsee.

“Barr…” Sai whispered as quietly as he possibly could, leaning in close to us, “Go with Miu, make sure she gets what she needs. Miki and I will do a sweep.”

The both of us nodded in response, then the group split in two, Barr and I climbing down from the stack of large, heavy boxes of materials we’d settled on. There weren’t many guards around, as far as I could tell, and the few that were there were taken out before I had a chance to do so myself. Not that I would want to. I was more than comfortable with leaving the more… violent parts of the job to the rest of the team. I was still quite averse to it, considering everything that happened a few months ago. For now, I preferred focusing on what I needed. And that didn’t involve a fight.

We traversed the maze of a warehouse for what felt like hours but was actually a mere thirty minutes or so. Eventually, luck found us as we stumbled right into the center of the maze, met with loads upon loads of crates that doubled us in size, each full of Talurian alloy alongside of a plethora of other materials. Exactly what we needed.

“Quick… your stick-ons.” I held my hand out towards him, gesturing for his bag. He tossed it to me, and from it I pulled out four transporter devices. But these were unlike the transporters I’d come across previously; they were an invention of my own. Each worked in unison with each other, connected through transmissions. They created a barrier around whichever object—or objects—they were attached to, transporting everything inside that radius at once. It was more advanced than the simple handheld version, and offered more flexibility than advanced models. I was quite proud of it, despite the awful name: Stick-ons.

…It was a work-in-progress.

Each of the four gadgets were latched onto every side of the heavy crate, a thin blue light emanating from either side of each to form an illuminated ring around the cargo. Once every stick-on was in place, we took several steps back, and I retrieved a thin, silver tablet from my own bag. I started rapidly tapping in coordinates to our base back home while Barr continued surveying our surroundings. And withing a few seconds, and a flash of light, the large crate of materials was gone, transported back to Earth for Vhiska to intercept from the other side.

“It worked!” I whispered a bit too loudly, then turned to high-five Barr. But instead of being met with a matching smile and an upturned palm, I was instead greeted by Barr’s long, pensive stare towards the ceiling, and a single finger pointed upwards.

I tilted my head up in the same direction, and immediately my smile faded.

The ceiling was covered in them. Androids, somewhat humanoid in shape but more spider-like in the way their limbs stuck outwards and their bellies rested against the surface they clung to. Like the lickers from Resident Evil. They were perhaps, and by a large margin, the biggest oddity I’d seen since I began visiting this planet.

And even worse, Miki and Sai were fighting to get free from their web of tendril-like wires.

Barr’lo is the first to react, quickly unholstering the pistol from his belt. Aiming it above us, a smile slowly graced his lips as the gun rapidly unfurled itself, geometric machinations multiplying and expanding until the small weapon became massive launcher. He shoots the rocket forward, and immediately the android lickers screeched and scattered as it made a loud, shattering impact.

That fight I was avoiding? It was here now.

{ Well… you ready, Red? }

[ I always am. ]

My tsanista stretched across my form in full-body armor as I launched myself at the ceiling. I began picking them apart the same way I did the Vaanen, reaching in until my influence found purchase, slowly tearing away from the inside until their bodies malfunctioned, sputtering and whizzing until they loss control of themselves and fell to ground in a shattered mess. I was only able to take out a few. Androids were quite difficult to control, after all. But it was enough to give my teammates enough leeway to break free.

Barr’lo, however, was far less meticulous in his approach. As soon as the other two wrenched themselves free, the demolitionist continued his targeted assaulted. Rocket after rocket shot at the ceiling, causing more of them to crash against the ground and leaving large, noticeable craters in their wake. I rushed to start clearing them away from the rest of the cargo we planned to take, pulling and tearing at them with much more fervor then before. Sai and Miki were busy dodging their lightning-quick attacks, rolling away from their lunges and slicing at their whip-like tongues with their blades.

At some point, we’d gotten overwhelmed. The sheer number of them far exceeded the enemies we took on at Pixul’s club. And even with the two extra fighters on deck, being outnumbered to such a degree wasn’t going to work in our favor.

“We need to pull back!” Sai commanded, with one last swipe at a wiry tongue with one of his blades. “Walk away with what we have—"

“Yeah—except we don’t have a lot to begin with! We only transported one crate!” I shouted back, pushing some of the robotic creatures away from me and Miki. Barr continued blasting away with the weapon he’d now fashioned into a shotgun as we ascended the many boxes surrounding us in an attempt to elevate ourselves. I stayed floating in the air, searching tirelessly for a quick solution to our very messy problem…

That’s when I spotted them. There were still a hefty number of guards that were left. And they’d been alerted by our raucous battle.

“We’ve got more company…” I warned the rest of the group, to which they replied with heavy sighs, tortured glances, and curses under their breath.

I didn’t want to waste time anymore. Not on fighting, not on dodging bullets, and definitely not on killing. I came here with a purpose. And I intended to fulfill it.

It took everything out of me to do it, to extend my influence across multiple devices, multiple moving, mechanical parts, multiple living entities trapped inside shells, programmed to rip and tear through their enemies with no remorse. It took so much out of me that I felt even my hold on Red slipping, and I struggled to maintain my levitation in the air. In the end I chose control—complete and utter control—over my flight and landed my feet on the ground. Ground that was no longer dangerous, as the horde of bloodthirsty bots were frozen in place, and starting up at me awaiting command.

{ Holy… }

[ Shit… that actually worked. ]

{ I know, right?! }

[ You have gotten stronger… I am proud. ]

The small bit of praise brought a smile to my face, one I quickly wiped away as I returned my focus to the task at hand.

“They’ll help us now,” I whirled my head around to face Sai. “Handle the guards. They’ll follow you out. I’ll stay and get as many supplies as needed.”

Sai looked around, wary at first. I grabbed his arm tightly and shook it, bringing his attention back to me. Back to reality.

“Trust me.”

There was a long pause, and a number of glances that flickered between me and the army of lickers surrounding us. But he eventually nodded, directing the team to move out. I gave a nod in return, and as the team and their new swarm ran in the direction of danger, I continued looting as much as I could. Scouring through the endless towers of cargo until I found what I felt was enough—and what I felt we could manage space wise. There were a few stray lickers, possibly some that shook off my control and others that were simply out of my range, but I handled them quickly and quietly. Enough to not arouse any attention as I started making my way out.

Everything seemed to be working out, despite the massive hiccups. But the thing about getting too comfortable when things go your way is that the universe is always ready to throw something else at you.

Guards flanking around the corner. But they weren’t androids like the flock I’d just handled. They were living, made of flesh and bone. Flesh that was warm to the touch as they caught me by surprise, easily and quickly defending themselves against my meager attempts at fighting back before pinning me against the ground by my neck, strangling me in the same manner Pixul did. Flesh that wrapped tightly around my wrist as another assisted in pinning me down. Flesh and bone that turned hotter as I got angrier, as light enraptured me in sizzling, white heat. Flesh torn asunder as that very light enveloped them, and in a flash left behind nothing but charred corpses.

I think I may have stared too long at the burnt bodies. The gaping hole left in one of their chest, cooked flesh and purple blood dripping from where their rib cage should be. The second guard who was left without half their body, and the other half—or at least what was still left of it—turned black as coal.

I stared for far too long. Motionless. Voiceless. In shock of just how destructive I could be. It was like the summer of 2018 all over again, standing in the middle of my bedroom, shaking and crying over a pile of ashes.

There was a rough grab of my arm, and a shake so violent it triggered me again. I was lucky enough to meet his eyes before I blasted him away.

“Don’t think about it,” Sai said calmly, eyes flickering between me and the bodies, nervously despite how much he tried to hide it.

“Let’s go.”

At the words, I nodded once, and followed him out of the warehouse. Yarrna covered our trail as we ran back to our starting point. Once we were there, everyone exchanged smiles and high-fives with one another, congratulating each other on a job well-done and a bounty successfully required. More celebrations awaited us at the hideout, where V greeted us with a fist shot in the air and an excited holler as we transported ourselves back.

Everyone was satisfied.

All except for me.

They all wanted to celebrate with the best desserts Earth had to offer. So naturally, I treated them to conbini ice cream.

They all sat amongst each other, either huddled on the floor or sitting atop the stacks of cargo. They were all laughing and speaking a mix of Talurian dialects—both native and Nuvassi. Vhiska joked about how one of the massive boxes almost crushed them. Miki signed a number of seemingly playful jabs at Barr as he boasted about his valor during the mission. Yarrna was already mapping out future plans.

All I did was watch, managing a soft smile occasionally but not really saying anything. After a while, I asked to step outside for some fresh air. Wanting to be alone for a while. Wanting to hear nothing but the business of the city and my own thoughts, which were nothing more than twisted and dark right now.

After some time, I was eventually joined by Sai, who’d left the small party inside to join me in the peace and quiet of the night. Wordlessly, he leaned against the side of the building as well, staring up at the sky in the same manner I did. No words exchanged, not asking questions. Only offering his support in complete silence. Until I was the one to break it.

“Does it get easier?”

The words came out almost as soft as a whisper. Sai turned his head towards me, an expression of concern coming over his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped himself, hesitating. A short silence returned before he sighed.

“Yes,” he responded. “Yes it does.”

The words were earnest, which only made it even more painful to accept.

“I, umm…. I feel like the only way I can be good enough for this is if I become the complete opposite of myself.” I stated, arms crossing around my torso even tighter as I curled into myself. “Who I am… who I am isn’t cut out for all of this, I think… I’m a weak-willed person.”

His expression turned stern. “Miu… I saw you, in a streak of light, tear apart cop cars through the sky. You knew how to take down the Makalden. Hell, you blasted them through the sky. You—” He paused again, looking away. “You stopped Pixul…”

The image of her bloody stub for an arm filled my head again, and I closed my eyes as tightly as I could, breathing out heavily as I wished the thought away. Sai probably realized this and fell silent again, back resting against the wall as he concentrated his gaze on the pavement.

Wordlessness took over once more, both of us searching for something else to say. Unlike Sai, I was failing to do so. Failing to find the words to express just how I felt. But Sai seemed to understand me even without an explanation. As if these feelings were all too familiar to him. As if he were looking in a mirror, at a reflection of his past self.

“You’re stronger than you know, Miu. Stronger than all of us… and you don’t need to be anyone else.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him for the first time all night.

“You’re exactly who you need to be.”

He patted my shoulder twice and returned inside. I slumped to the ground, hugging my knees close to my chest as I took in his words.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I didn’t need to change. Maybe I already did. All I knew for sure was that the girl I was before and the girl I am now are the same. They always have been. I’ve always had this within me, no matter how much I tried to run or hide from it. I had to strong. I had to be daring. I had to be a beacon of hope to my new friends. The warrior to follow in my family’s legacy, even though it took me so long to realize it.

I needed to be something new. Something vicious. To awaken that side of me I kept locked away for so long, no matter how scared of it I was.

I had to be a beast, made of light and fire. Streaking through a black sky.

And whether I wanted to be that or not… didn’t matter anymore.

[ ⋖◈⋗ ] Now Accessing… Permission Granted. Welcome to: THE DEN

#p: raiju

[miu-paras]

Side Quest ⋮ Nami // Oneshot

January 11th, 2020. 6:45 AM.

I hated coffee. I hated the taste of it, even the smell of it. And it didn’t help that the caffeinated drink did nothing for me, either. Something I had my ADHD to thank for.

And yet, this morning, I found myself in a coffee shop, sitting amongst a gathering of brow-beaten businessmen and sleep-deprived college students while the smell of brewing cocoa beans wafted through our senses. I was working as well; trying to hardest to study Talurian script, with the help of a textbook so kindly gifted to me by Sai. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for my diligent practice at writing the alien script soon divulged into a series of doodles.

I was never good at focusing on such repetitive tasks. So I turned my attention elsewhere: to Red, the voice in my head that had been silent over the last few weeks. I remember when their voice used to freak me out, now it felt odd to not have them fill my head with rambles day in and day out.

{ Hey Red? } I began.

[ Yes? ]

{ Umm… what do you think of Nami? }

A pause. It was a random question, yes, but not unfounded. She was all I could think about after returning home from our holiday. Red was always quiet when she was around, no doubt because they wanted us to enjoy our time together. But they’ve never once voiced their own feelings about her, something odd for someone who always had something to say about everything and everyone.

[ Hmm… no strong opinion as of yet. But I do find them… curious. ]

{ …’Curious’? }

[ Yes. Curious. ]

{ Well… I don’t know what that means. But I only ask because, well… with all the changes that have happened as of recent, with nami and my new agency and the arcade, I just… I was thinking that maybe it was time to— }

It was sudden and startling. A blood-curdling scream like a banshee’s cry, loud enough to make me jump from my seat, books and pencils clamoring to the floor. My head whirled around the room as I tried desperately to find the source, but instead I was met with the confused expressions of the café staff and customers. They seemed more taken aback by me than the screeching that filled the entire room.

That’s when I realized… only I could hear it.

Nami scooped the small, shadowy figure into her hands and held it out to Miu. “This... Is a heartless. A ‘shadow’ to be specific. You can give it a name if you’d like. It’s born from my darkness, but it’s harmless.”

She smiled softly, placing the tiny shadow in Miu’s open palms. “It can’t fight but it’s a form of... Communication. It will quietly live in your shadow. Should anything happen to you, the ‘shadow’ will send me a signal.”

“Likewise, should anything happen to me… the shadow will screech in pain.”

Horrified, I glared down at my shadow, suddenly aware of where the noise came from.

I ran out of the coffee shop, not even bothering to collect my things. I ran as fast as I could, breathing heavily as my feet stomped against the pavement, pushing through swaths of people until I found an alleyway. There was no time to think of a better plan. No time to make flight plans, or even get to my transporter. Nami was in danger. Extreme danger. And every amount of fear, confusion, and anger I felt pushed its way outside of me, in an aura of electricity and light that incased my entire form. And with tears stinging my eyes and fists clenched so tight my nails burrowed into the skin, I waited no longer.

I leapt from the ground and rocketed into the air, a streak of light painting across the morning sky, brighter than the sun itself. I jettisoned away from Tokyo, away from her home and towards my lover. Towards the turmoil that awaited me.

In mere seconds, I was in Seoul.

I crashed miles out from the busy city, and made my way there through any means I could. Fashioning Red into a car, running through the busy streets, pushing myself in the direction of Seoul National University Hospital, the screaming in my ear growing louder and louder the closer I got.

I had to fight my way out of the waiting room, arguing with several nurses and doctors until they finally agreed to let me in. To let me see her there, unconscious and barely breathing.

And all I could do was sit beside her, holding her limp hand in mine… and cry.

#p: nami

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 5 ⋮ Red // Final Chapter

October 5th, 2019. 11:50 AM. ♪ - Sidewalks and Skeletons / Above (Part 1) | Disasterpeace / Vignette: Corruption (Part 2)

Several things happened when I got back to Earth.

First thing I did was panic.

A natural response, really. It had clearly been a fucked up night, one that only got worse the longer it went on. We had an entire army of android police on our asses, not to mention all the hitmen on Pixul’s side out to get us after the stunt we pulled.

We stole everything. Every device, every piece of gear, weapons, modifications, or tools at their disposal were gone. At least from her grasp, anyway. Now, they were here on Earth, surrounding us in scattered piles on the floor. All because I wanted Pixul, Vex, and the thing that tried to turn my mind into pudding to go through as much agony as they put me through. It was worth it, yes. But it left a disaster at our feet, that at first sight seemed impossible to fix.

Second, Spike and I worked hard to clean up the mess we made in the shooting range. Once I was done muttering about how my sensei was most definitely going to kill me, I shaped Red into a rolling cart large enough to carry the stolen artillery. It took several trips and significant manpower, with me pulling the cart with my mind and Spike pushing with all four arms and every ounce of Talurian strength he could muster, but we successfully managed to smuggle everything into an abandoned city building blocks away from the training space. It had a basement level luckily, and we were able to unload our hefty boon there for the time being. Until I could figure out something better, at least.

Third, I armed both my own home and most of the city with deadzoners. It took some time to figure out the algorithm, and Red had to offer assistance throughout the process, but I was eventually able to finish the custom programming, effectively making Tokyo a massive blindspot. My location could no longer receive transporter signals. I didn’t want anyone from Nuva being able to simply beam their way into my home again, let alone finding our cache of Pixul’s stolen goods.

Pixul…

Part of me wondered how angry she’d be when she found out what happened. Not just our escape, but her stash as well.

And another part of me wondered if she was even alive. How could she be? Not after we…

Enough of that.

Fourth, I raided the conbini and the outdoor supply store for as many goods and utilities as I could get my hands on. Food, sleeping bags, blankets, lanterns, anything that would help Spike feel more at ease. He refused to stay at my place, no matter how many times I offered.

“Someone has to keep watch over all this stuff,” he kept saying. I wouldn’t argue, of course. I was too tired to after the night we had. I’d eventually have some questions to ask about… all of this. But for now, that wasn’t the priority.

Fifth, I went to bed. And I slept like a fucking baby. For at least 24 hours.

That was, until the memories flooded my head again. Memories of Kalar lost in a fit of violence and rage, obsession blinding them from everything else. Memories of my mother fighting them. Of my mother… killing someone. And from that memory blossomed another, one equally disturbing. And another. And another.

My mother, my ima, was an assassin. More than just that, really… they were a harbinger of death.

I couldn’t sleep anymore after that.

It was a few days after the incident. I’d taken time to relax, as did Spike, whose real name I still hadn’t learned. I focused on work, on my beautiful girlfriend, my family, my friends. Anything that could somehow help distract from the fact that hundreds of stolen alien weapons were hiding in a basement somewhere in Tokyo under the watchful eye of a four-armed stranger who would absolutely eviscerate anyone that tried to touch it.

But now I was here, sitting cross-legged in the center of that basement floor, with Spike sitting across from me. Finally, a chance to talk. To figure out what our next move was.

And who the hell he was.

“Let’s start with your name, maybe?” I asked, breaking the pregnant silence between us. Spike straightened in response, eyes that stared aimlessly at the floor suddenly shooting up in my direction as he cleared his throat.

“I’m Sai. Short for Sai’xhanzi,” he began, “Born and raised in the slums of Gan’em.”

“And you… work for Pixul? Or used to? Or never did…?” I tilted my head slightly.

He shook his head in response. “Ah… the last one. I’ve got my own group… one that’s been fighting against Pixul and the many crime bosses in Gan’em like her for a long time.”

My interest piqued; an eyebrow quirked in response. Instinctively, I leaned in, waiting for more information.

Sai sighed, shaking his head again before continuing, as if searching for the right words to articulate his thoughts. “I’m from a street gang, known as Xh’andor. ‘Vitriol’ in your language. But we’re not like the other gangs in Nuva… we’re here to protect the slums.” A sternness entered his voice as he stared back at me. “For a long time, our communities have been torn apart by gang wars, violence, dirty black-market dealings, and corporations pushing us out of our homes. Most folks don’t have the means to recover, and just end up homeless, jobless, in debt, or worse… after a while, after seeing so many suffer at the hands of corruption, losing their livelihoods to the violence and devastation they never asked to be a part of… I just couldn’t take it.”

Sai stood, slowly pacing around the room, perhaps restless now that the difficult memories of his home resurfaced in his mind. He stared mindlessly at the stacks of weapons splayed out all around us, head turning only slightly in my direction. “I formed Vitriol to fight against corruption. To be the answer to all the madness that seemed endless… we stuck to local gangs for a while. Intercepting smuggled cargo, thwarting ambushes, engaging in all-out fights if we had to. We stole from megacorps too—whatever tech we could get our hands on… but lately, we’ve fallen pretty low on resources. Not enough to help those we promised to defend, and certainly not enough to continue the fight. Those of us with prosthetics were at a disadvantage as well, with our own limbs failing us from time to time. Things got rough, so… we had to change our tactics.”

He turned to face me fully this time. “I decided to go undercover, act as a double agent underneath one of the biggest distributers in Nuva’s underground trade. That’s when I found out about the giant weapons cache… and that’s when I found out about you.”

I blinked, suddenly wary about where the story was going. Sai could tell, and they immediately moved closer, dropping to a knee so they were eye-level. “I need your help, Miu. You’re a genius, from what I’ve heard, and from what I’ve seen. I know you were the one to disable the deadzoners. I saw how you defended yourself against the Vaanen. And then there’s your stunts in Talur… you’re… you’re exactly what we’ve been searching for.”

He paused again, the sigh he released more tapered this time. He was nervous. He was trying. Begging.

“You’re not a weapons dealer, I get that. You don’t want to be involved in all this, I get that too… but think of all the good you could do. Think of what we could do to more people like Pixul. Like Vex. People that only want to cause more suffering. I swear to you… your inventions will only be used for good. That’s something Pixul couldn’t promise you.”

I had to admit he gave a good pitch. Better than the vague, sinister one I received from Pixul, at least. But I was still on edge. Conducting business with him meant connecting myself with Nuva further. And last I checked, we were on Gan’em Most Wanted list before we high-tailed it the fuck out of there.

“How do I know this won’t put me in more danger?” I asked, my own voice now matching his sternness. “We angered one of the biggest gangs in Nuva. The Vaanen know our faces, and no doubt are hunting us down as we speak. There’s no safe place for you—for us—to conduct any sort of business with this big of a target on our backs. Besides, I… I’m not the genius you think I am…” I frowned, my gaze lowering slightly.

He huffed once, only quirking his brow with a half-smile. “You could’ve fooled me.”

The comment was enough to almost bring a smile to my face, one that would’ve matched his had I not shook my head and sighed. Slowly, I could feel myself being won over, but something still held me back from being pulled over the edge and onto his side, still sheltering me away from full acceptance. Like a pendulum off rhythm, or a scale out of balance. Something was… off. Uneven.

Something needed to give.

“Thanks for saving my life,” I said, offering a soft smile.

“You saved mine,” He shrugged. “We’re even now.”

My smile faded. “No. We’re not. Because now you’re asking for something else.”

He frowned as well, a brow raised to me. “W-well, I—”

“Y’know, prior to the beginning this year, there wasn’t much in my life I had to worry about. Other than my job, my loved ones, or whatever tournament I had in the coming days or weeks or months, I managed to live a pretty carefree life… until now. Now?? I have aliens up the fucking wazoo, and it seems like they only ever want something from me. Build them a bomb. Build them a mech. Build them bombs and mechs en masse until my arms fall off like I’m some god damn one-woman factory and nothing else! But has anyone ever stopped to say ‘Hey, Miu. What do you need’? NO! Because it has never once occurred to anyone that I came to Nuva with my own problems, my own questions, most of which are still largely unanswered and now have more problems tacked onto them. But no one, not a single fucking person, has so much as tried to give a SHIT!”

Now I was the one pacing, going back and forth while I ranted, and while a surprised Sai did nothing but stare in silence. I paused in my back and forth to take a breath, knowing if I’d gone on for any longer that lightning would be shooting from every inch of my body. Massaging the bridge of my nose, I finally sat down again with a sigh, eventually meeting Sai’s stunned face once my expression was calm.

“I respect what you’re doing. A lot. I really do. And… I do want to help you… in fact, I will. But you need to promise to do something for me first.”

Sai did nothing but nod this time. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best.”

“Well first off, you’ll need to supply me.” I tipped my head towards the pile of weapons, gear, and materials, “Pixul’s shitty guns will help us get by for a while, but if you’re operating on a much bigger scale… I’ll eventually need more.”

Sai stared at the massive pile as well, then nodded once. “No problem at all. I wholly intend to.”

Glad to see we were still on the same page. Now I just needed to hope I wouldn’t lose him with my next request.

“I also… I need you to find someone for me.” I stated nervously, my leg bouncing rapidly as I continued, “Their name is Iannis. They, uhh… well, they were a server at Pixul’s club? Long, curly white hair, in braids. They had… strange scars on one side of their face…? Pixul had them sent away, and… I need to find them. Does any of this ring a bell at all?”

Sai was silent for a while, brows knitted together as they stared pensively down at their lap. The silence from him only lasted seconds, but I felt my heart beater faster longer it went.

He shook his head, his gaze settling on mine once more. There was a look in his eyes, one that seemed mournful. Regretful.

I felt my heart sink immediately.

“I was there… when they were taken away. They were, umm… quite the fighter. So I helped to pin them down.” He was averting his gaze now, eyes searching for anything else to stare at, as if the shame was too heavy to face, my judgement too scary to acknowledge.

“The Makalden… wasn’t able to sedate them somehow, so… we took care of it. Then they were dragged out, and that was that. As to where that was… um...” He shook his head. “This isn’t the first time Pixul’s had people… sent off. And it’s always the same place. The one place no one could get in, or out…”

He met my eyes again, stern and unwavering yet the regret still lingered. I swallowed, feeling the sadness in my heart being replaced with fear.

“It’s Vano.”

[ Oh no… ]

{ Where’s Vano…? Is that bad? }

[ It’s a civilization to the north. They are completely closed off from the rest of Ulteria due to the region’s high prevalence of Stormers. Not to mention, their sectors are heavily fortified and fragmented across the continent. No one gets in. And even if we could, it’d be like searching for “a needle in a haystack,” as the saying goes. ]

“So that means…”

[ Iannis may be lost to us. ]

“Oh fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I groaned, head falling into my hands as I fought back to urge to scream and cry. After everything I’d gone through—that we’d gone through—to get to this point… it’d be all for nothing.

“Is there any way you can… I dunno… figure out exactly which sector they were sent to? And who’s holding her? If there is a ‘who’?”

Sai shook his head again. “I could try, but… that’s information only Pixul would know. That and Vex. And whoever they had organize your friend’s relocation.”

My head shot up immediately, the defeated expression wiped clean from my features at the sound of Sai’s last words. “Someone else organized her trip to Vano…” I mumbled beneath my breath, "That’s it then! You just need to find whoever it was and get an answer out of them. It shouldn’t be that hard, right? They’ve gotta be lower down the ladder than Pixul and Vex—”

“They’re traffickers, Miu,” Sai cut me off, “These are dangerous people. I’d be putting my own operation in danger. My own people in danger. Even if there was a chance I could find your friend, I have fewer connections now than I did then. Not to mention, the Vaanen are out on the hunt for us. We have to wait for things to die down before I can do anything.”

I frowned, crumpling into myself like a deflated balloon in the wind, that defeated feeling almost returning. “But you’ll still do it… right? When things die down…?”

Sai let out a heavy sigh. He paced momentarily, hands on his hips, before facing me again. I looked up at him with hopeful eyes, waiting with bated breath for an answer. For a tiny sliver of hope to come and wash away all my worries. Desperately wanting to know I could do something right for once. To finally feel closer to getting the answers I need.

Maybe someone heard my wish.

“…I’ll see what I can do.”

I couldn’t stop myself from leaping to my feet, or from wrapping my arms around my new companion, clinging to him with all the strength I could muster. Sai was more than thrown off by my sudden affection, enough that I almost broke through his stoic demeanor. Four hands reached up to pat my back gently, and I could practically hear the soft smile he bore suddenly widen.

“It’s… the least I can do. You’re doing a lot more for me, anyway.”

I pulled away finally, nodding once with a smile of my own, though it fades once my eyes landed on the pile of weapons once more.

“I’ll need tools… and more metal. Bring me everything your people have in terms of equipment.” I began making my way around the room in circles, surveying the walls, the ceiling, the entrance. “It isn’t much as far as secret bases go, but… this will have to make do.”

“So that’s it then?” Sai asked, tension returning to his body as he held out a hand towards me, “We have a deal…?”

Trepidation crept over me, as if it was only now that I realized—truly realized—just what I was getting myself into. But there was no pulling out now.

And I didn’t want to.

I approached him, palm sliding into his as I gave his hand a squeeze.

“Deal.”

Ascension. Corruption. Dissent.

Do not become attached to the things of this world, for there are many more.

One and two, becomes three.

Three, two, one. One, two three.

The third holds the power…

The third… the third…

This is my last memory of the shar— [ MEMORY REDACTED ].

More than that… this is my last memory of Kalar.

They recited those words like a mantra. Over and over, without any sign of exhaust. And they don’t look uneasy as they do so. There is no sign of tension or anxiety. The unhinged glint in their eye that was present during Ghivussi’s execution is nowhere to be found. In fact, Kalar looked… relaxed. As poised and collected as they usually were, all while repeating those words over and over and over again.

Ascension. Corruption. Dissent.

Ascension. Corruption. Dissent.

Over and over. Without fail…

Things always seemed to come in threes.

Three words. Three worlds.

Three commands. Three prophecies.

Three…

The riddle was maddening.

And yet, my tsanagar seemed to have worked their way through it. Because today, they approached every new step with more confidence than the one before it. They were filled with a new determination. They knew exactly what to do, and exactly how they were to do it. As if it were the only mission with any purpose to them. As if it were all they had left.

Night. The 36th hour of Sandis Errmis.

Kalar grasps the [ MEMORY REDACTED ].

It glows upon contact, the device vibrating in their hand, heating up as the light it emitted became more and more intense. The light burns through the Minister’s palm; my healing manages to mend the seared flesh in equal pace, allowing Kalar to maintain their grasp. Over time, the whispers returned again, as did those three commands. Three steps to follow. Three prophecies to fulfill.

One of death.

The mysterious passing of Salas. Then the murder of Malvas. Umvis’ demise was unforeseen, but clearly tied to it all. Then there was Ghivussi’s execution. Death… death was prophesied. But the question of why still loomed over me like a specter.

One of cycles.

The cycle of loneliness. Salas is lonely. An outsider in Essa, or so it seemed. They cling to Vasniar as an escape, as a connection to the home the once had. An obsession they later carefully instilled in their child. Kalar, already feeling disconnected from their peers, clings to their religious beliefs, as it was the only thing left connecting them to their late ima. Faith and isolation, only strengthened by [ MEMORY REDACTED ]. Worsened by the loss of their greatest love.

The cycle of violence. It runs through the Aedonnoe bloodline. Malvas continues it, with cutting words, stringent teachings, and far too harsh reprimands. Kalar keeps to tradition with their own children—in some ways worse than their ima. Unable to break away from the only form of love they’ve known. The only form that seemed to have any permanence, as kindness always seemed to kill.

The cycle of… cycles. Of never-ending loops. Fates we cannot avoid no matter what steps we take. A butterfly effect, yet all the dominos fall in the exact same order, at the exact same place, each and every time.

But what was the third…

Kalar stares deep into the [ MEMORY REDACTED ], light filling their pupils as radiating colors danced across their face. And as it happened, the whispers grew louder. And louder. And deeper. So much, one could feel the ground beneath their feet tremble with each passing word.

And there it was…

One of rebirth.

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

No…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

I’m so close…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

There has to be something here… anything. One last thing…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ M-MEMORY REDACTED ]

[[ MMEMORY REDAACTED ]

[ [[ MM-ME[MOR[[RRY RRREEDD[[ACTE—

…Darkness…

Darkness, and then light.

Something is different. This memory… it does not feel like something I databased. It does not feel like anything pulled from Kalar’s own mind. No… this wasn’t like that at all.

This was all mine. My own memory. One buried deep within the recesses of my programming, underneath years and years of service to my wielder. Devoid of tampering, of holes or missing pieces. It was as clear as day. A mind—mymind—freed from any connection.

Freed from Kalar, who sat before me, meters away.

It was an odd feeling. Like being a turtle ambling about without a shell. A moth just as it emerges from its cocoon, awkward and uncoordinated in its flight. I have lived my whole life, whole centuries, tied to this person. And now I am without them, freeform and floating in an ethereal space. Nothing about it felt right. If anything, it was rather… scary.

I was afraid. Terrified. Yet the closer I came to my tsanagar, the more I realized they weren’t. They were still just as at peace as they were before we ended up in this strange place. As if they expected it—wantedit

As if it were prophesied to them.

“One of cycles…”

The cycle of loss.

I was inches away from them now, and I settled my incorporeal form beside them. Their eyes were on me. Those piercing, icy white eyes that seemed so calm, so filled with a tranquility they’d been vacant of most of their life. Perhaps this was all they were seeking—to be at peace with themselves. To be free of the isolation. The fighting. The inescapable loops. Free of their fate.

Yet still… it felt like more than that.

A smile graced their lips, and their hand stretched towards me, fingertips just grazing past my spectral form.

“I will miss you, Kalonis.” They spoke my old name softly. A sadness began to swell within me at the words, and for a second I thought if I was capable of mustering it, tears would be coating my ghostly face.

Their hand pulls away from me, their smile fading as they turned their attention forward once more. The shard appeared in their palm, its triangular form glowing and pulsating more and more as Kalar’s grasp grew more firm. Beneath us, the ground began to shift and rumble, growing more violent with each passing second. But Kalar seemed undeterred, their arm trembling as they maintained their grip on the device, which was now shifting color. Darker tones filled their crystalline surface, purple, pink, and blue shades turning darker as they swirled around black, mixing to change their hues. Underneath Kalar, cracks began to form in the ground that previously had seemed like an empty, white void, splintering further and stretching past my tsanagar. The more it spider-webbed, the more I was certain we would fall through. Instead, the crevices opened further, making way for dark, inky fronds that slowly rose from the void, latching themselves onto Kalar like vines, snaking around her limbs and waist and constricting with all its might.

It was a sight that looked all too painful, but the Minister was unphased. My tsanagar was calm, at peace despite the chaos unfolding.

The price to pay for the power they wielded was death, and they accepted it.

 [ M-MEMORY CORRUPT ]

The tendrils coiled around them fully now, nothing left in sight but the band that decorated their head, and the shard they grasped in their palm, now completely blackened and dull. It was then that the booming voice returned.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

The voice grew louder and louder, repeating its commands over and over until Kalar had memorized it enough to whispers the words alongside it. And with the words came visions, images flashing in front of my vision before quickly disappearing. They were hard to discern, and even harder to make sense of.

That is, until the voices reached me as well.

THE TRANSGRESSOR PERISHES.

THE EXILED BEARS THE SUN.

ONE AND TWO, BECOMES THREE…

“The third holds the power in the end,” Kalar finishes.

An image flashes before my eyes. A barren wasteland, darkness blanketing where a great civilization once stood. Now it was all in ruins in ashes, and only shadows remained. Shadows and tendrils, jutting from the earth.

Another flash. A child falls upwards into the sky. Light radiates from every inch of them, pouring from their fingertips, their eyes, their mouth. They let out a mangled scream, one that carries until their back hits the ground—foreign ground—as the light around glowing more and more furiously.

Another flash. The child is old now. In their mouth, they carry an apple, held in place by their teeth. In their right palm rests a Maladian pine fruit. The left palm remains empty, that is until the light leaves their form, their ethereal glow replaced now with a dull, solemn statue of stone, and their left palm now heavy with the same fruit.

A final flash. The light wanders aimlessly through a shroud of darkness. Black clouds snuff out any other form of illumination, and the same black tendrils lash out in an attempt to grab or kill the glowing orb. But they do not prevail. For the light is safe. It is home. And it is waiting.

Suddenly I am pulled away from Kalar.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

The distance between us grows, as some unknown force continued tugging me away, rapidly at first then slowly. Slow enough to watch them fade away from me. As if they were ceasing to exist.

Slowly into darkness I fell.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

We returned to reality, me back in my metal form, Kalar back to sitting in the center of their quarters, our minds connected once more. They breathed heavily, their panting quickened as they stared wide-eyed at their palms, now blistered and scarred.

[ What… ]

“…Have I done?”

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

This is how it ends, isn’t it?

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

This is how it all ends.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

I’m sorry, Kalar… my tsanagar… my friend…

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

Goodbye.

#p: red

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 5 ⋮ Red // Chapter 5

September 20th, 2019. 3:30 AM. ♪ - Notaker / Infinite (Part 1) | HEALTH / CRUSHER (Part 2)

I was never much of a fighter. In fact, I always avoided confrontation as much as I could. My mom tried to get me into martial arts as a kid, and I was always apprehensive about it. Always finding excuses, like I wouldn’t be good at it, I was too short, too clumsy, too weak. When I was being antagonized at school, I’d simply ignore them, walk away and try to forget their words. I never took to violence. It was only my games that were ever the exception, and knowing it was fiction made it easier to dissociate myself from it entirely.

But this wasn’t fiction. The looming figure above me wasn’t a product of pixels and polygons. The four massive fingers curled around my throat weren’t simple pictures. And the barriers in my mind protecting me from their control were no illusion.

No… none of this was fake.

Neither was the power that surged through me once more, building in my chest and extending through my leg, lightning surging and blasting forward from my feet as I kicked the Makalden through the ceiling.

The room fell quiet, lights flickering from the immense release of power. But I could still feel their heavy, shocked stares burning holes into my skin, skin already hot from the aura of electrical energy that engulfed every inch of my body. But I couldn’t see their faces, or even hear their voices, my senses far too hazy as I slowly began to regain control.

{ You… }

[ Perhaps I enjoyed your spar with the Vanossi a little too much. ]

{ I thought I needed to prove myself, though… }

[ Prove yourself by getting us the hell out of here. ]

Fair enough.

I rolled off the table, heaving and coughing from the pain of being strangled, rubbing the bruises on my neck from the hunter’s grip. My haziness was beginning to wear off, and I could see the many faces that surrounded me. Some were laced with fear, others with anger. And Pixul’s was covered with pure, unbridled rage. There was one, however, who seemed unphased by anything that had transpired. The one with blue hair and gaudy attire, who merely watched with an amused quirk of his brow.

After seeming as though everything was moving in slow motion, the atmosphere quickly shifted. Everyone reacted at once. Pixul brandished two handguns. Vex called for his men to cease me, two of the taller, rugged men surging forward. I quickly expanded Red across my entire body, effectively ricocheting the bullets that fired from Pixul’s barrel. The impenetrable metal of my tsanista protected me again as a two long, narrow blades extended from each of the henchman’s bionic arms, making a loud screech against my armor as it sliced downwards. I ducked and dodged the following attacks before being tackled by the other lackey and slammed against the wall. Their large hand roughly pinned my head against the wall, my arms and legs grappling the burly forearm, fighting against their hold. Their hand squeezed down on my head harder and harder, until—

BANG.

A loud noise reverberates through the building, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the room, heads veering towards the door and the grip on me loosening. The shouts and screams of partygoers could be heard from all the way downstairs as the entire club erupted into chaos. And Pixul looked even more alarmed than before.

Taz’s eyes suddenly went completely black, staring blankly into nothing until their vision returned, their face matching Pixul’s intensity as they turned to her.

“The Vaanen…”

As if Pixul wasn’t pissed off enough, the anger now practically radiated off her skin in waves.

“HOW THE FUCK ARE THEY HERE?!”

I smirked. Now’s my chance…

Tightening my grip around the henchman’s arm, the stronger man instantly went still under my grasp. They shivered violently, fighting against the control I had over their prosthetics. Their arms and legs whizzed and muttered, sparks fluttering out from every limb as they lost all matter of function. Then suddenly, they went limp, falling to the floor with a loud thud. Lightning enveloped my form again as I raced towards the door, making it there too fast for Vex, Pixul, or the rest of their cohorts to react. I shot a confident look in Pixul’s direction, brandishing a smile wide enough o drive her even more insane.

“Deadzoners… such faulty technology, don’t you think?”

If Pixul could breathe fire, they would be right now. Fire coming out of her mouth, ears, eyes, and nose in a fit of fury.

I darted out of the room, zooming past the guards at the door and every other armed individual in a ball of light. Pixul and Vex shouted at others to stop me, but they’d be too slow. I was already dashing down every hallway, turning every corner until I reached a balcony overlooking the entire dancefloor, and the chaos that inhabited it. People were screaming, pushing past each other and breaking out into fights. All while a team of black-cladded individuals in dark, metal helmets tried to put a stop the madness, shouting at the frenzy to stop. If they didn’t comply, they were either detained and dragged away, or shot down with little hesitation.

{ Those Daft Punk looking guys… are those…? }

[ The Vaanen. Nuva’s android police force. ] Red answered. [ I have no doubt you could take them, but it would probably be best to simply avoid them. They could serve as a distraction against— ]

Before Red could even finish their thought, a stampede of footsteps began moving towards us from either side, getting louder and louder. With no other choice, I leapt from the balcony and into the fray of chaos. Flying helped to slow my landing, but it didn’t stop me from landing right in the middle of the frantic mob and determined Vaanen operatives attempting to quell the chaos.

One of which stood above me with uncanny stillness.

[ Oh dear… ]

“Uh… hi?”

“Scanning…” the disembodied voice left the android, images flashing on their helmet as they held their steady gaze. In one of their four arms, the Vaanen tightly clutched the collar of a clubber, who struggled against their hold but was too high to fight back properly. The other three hands brandished weapons: two handguns, and a rifle that emitted a soft, neon glow from every ornate indentation and carving.

“Race: Camerian. Terran. Toxin levels: Medium. Heart rate: Elevated.”

The officer read off a number of stats, yellow Talurian text streaming across the helmet. I used the perceived distraction as an opportunity to start slowly backing away.

But before I could make my furtive escape, the text flashed bright red, and they slowly began standing taller. And I was frozen in place from the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Nuvassi citizenship: Not recorded.”

They released the clubber in their grasp before quickly stomping their heavy foot on their chest. Gripping the rifle with both of their lower hands while the other two raised the pair of handguns.

“Protocol: Arrest.”

Shit.

Before the officer even had a chance to subdue me in whatever fashion they were imagining, I raised my hand towards them, freezing them in their tracks. Controlling an android is harder than it would seem. They have more agency than the average machine. But even in their attempts to struggle against my influence, my power persisted. I extended my arm away, and in tangent with that motion the Vaanen was sent flying across the room, back slamming hard enough against the pillar to leave a large dent. Their helmet was cracked, flickering several times before the lights going out.

Part of me wanted that to be the end, but I knew it wouldn’t be. Especially since there were dozens—maybe hundreds—more Vaanen on that dancefloor with me, all of which I’d caught the attention of with my display. Their heads whipped away from the scene and in my direction, all their masks covered in bold, neon red lettering. If I wasn’t fucked before, I sure as hell was now.

“Assault of a Vaanen officer: Observed.” They all spoke in unison, turning their attention away from the running mob as their weapons were raised in my direction. I immediately expanded Red around my form again, ready for the fight I was now faced with.

“Protocol: Extermin—”

“YAAL KHR’ESSHI ULMVEK X’HIMIAL, YOU FUCKING CUNTS!!!!”

Their heads snapped towards the source of the outburst all at once. My head whirled around as well, looking up to take in the sight of Pixul at the balcony with her gun in hand, Taz and her men rushing from behind her and leaping over the rails to join the fray. They all wielded a weapon of some kind. Guns, blades, bludgeoning weapons. Some extending from their limbs, others pulled from the backs or belts. Taz’s arms were completely transformed, one forming a broad, heavy sword with an edge made of bright, hardened light, and the other a massive shotgun. They and the rest of the gang began fighting Vaanen and frantic clubbers alike, shooting and cutting down whoever challenged them. The Vaanen were an effective force themselves, however, taking out equally as many pawns as Pixul’s cohorts had. And unfortunately for me, I was caught in the middle of all of it, fighting both gang members and Vaanen alike. Thugs were easier to disable, having to only focus on specific areas and avoid being shot or stabbed myself, which my armor aided in. Vaanen took more concentration and even more skill to dodge and guard myself from their attacks. But over time the extension of my powers began to feel more natural, and I could more easily send them flying, or ramming into each other, or turning their weapons against them, or disabling their stupid looking helmets.

Pixul, however, was the true star of the violent clash. Seconds after her men hit the ground, her weapon to shift, as if made up of multiple, tiny components that churned and twisted like gears, multiplying and expanding until her mere handgun had become a state-of-the-art rifle. A wicked grin crossed her lips as she peered through the scope to take aim, a grin that grew wider and wider as she shot down each Vaanen that came into sight, expert precision put into each shot, every bullet landing in the exact same place, making headshot after headshot. Not a single fire was wasted. It was like she was some kind of sniper god, raining death and destruction down from her heavenly throne.

More Vaanen began to rush the building, and I used their entrance as an opportunity to slither my way out of the madness. With everyone distracted by the fight on the dancefloor, I hoped my escape would go unnoticed, and I could focus on quickly finding Iannis and getting the fuck out of here.

Wishful thinking, I know.

The moment I pushed my way out of the mob, I was confronted immediately by a Vaanen officer, who held their hands out towards me. Suddenly, I rushed forward, my armor pulled in by a magnetic force emanating from their palms. They held me roughly, and I readied myself to retaliate. But before I could even react, another shot rang out, and suddenly the officer went still. I looked up to see sparks sputtering from a hole in the center of their helmet, torn wire and metal entangled together as blackened oil leaking from their form. The Vaanen’s grip faltered, releasing me as they fell limp to the floor. My head whirled around to spot the sharpshooter grinning down at me from her perch, finger trembling against the trigger as she held her steady aim on me.

Time to move.

I extended to armor to cover my head as soon as another shot rang out. The bullet ricocheted against the impenetrable metal, my face going wide realizing how lucky I’d been when the shot struck the center of my shielded forehead. Immediately I went into hyperspeed again, running through every floor of the club, peering into every room, searching every corner for that familiar face. The pure white hair, the deep brown complexion, the scarring against their skin. But nothing. They were nowhere. Perhaps they’d escaped the club before the violence broke out. Perhaps they’d escaped Gan’em altogether. Maybe even Nuva. Maybe my appearance spooked them somehow, and they didn’t want to risk seeing me again.

Maybe this was all my fault.

My last stop was the bathroom, the one I’d met them in before. They were, of course, still nowhere to be found. No one was here except a dazed, drunken clubber in a complete stupor.

No one. Nothing… this was all for nothing.

“Goddammit!” I yelled, kicking one of the stall doors hard enough that it fell off its hinges. I was more than a little angry. My whole reason for being here wasn’t here, and there was no way of knowing where the hell they were.

{ I failed… }

[ No. Iannis is still out there. We simply need to search harder now. ]

{ But I don’t have time for that! We won’t be able to find them now… not without asking the right people the right questions. And the only person I could think of that would have any idea of where they are is— }

“H-hhheyyyy… heeeeyyy!”

My head turned around to see the clubber waving a limp hand towards the entrance, a lazy smile spread across their lips. They stumbled forward and wrapped their hands around the figure that entered, attempting to embrace them as tightly as their Tears-induced stupor would allow.

The figure—now revealing themselves to be Pixul the further she stepped in—shoved the happy clubber hard enough that they’re sent crashing into the stall across from them. Pixul, with ice cold fury embedded deeply in their eyes, lifted her handgun and fired several shots into their frail form.

I jump at the sound of the shots, hand clasped over my mouth as I watched their body go limp and violet blood pool and spread out of the stall. Pixul, their rage subsiding some, merely watched me with a quirked brow, almost amused by my reaction.

“The Vaanen would’ve killed ‘em anyway,” she said simply with a shrug, taking steps towards me now, “It would’ve been your fault, y’know… you called those fuckers here. Jeopardizing my business… destroying my club… Your fault. All. You.”

I acted fast, hand reached out as I yanked the gun from her hands, aiming it at her with my finger on the trigger the second the weapon entered my grasp.

“Where’s Iannis?” I asked sternly, my expression harder than before. Pixul’s face was a mixture of shock and anger once the gun left her hands, but it quickly twisted into a vicious smile. And before I knew it she was… laughing? Cackling. Hard enough that she had to grip her sides. I stared at her, confusion and anger etched in my expression as I lowered the gun slightly. Either Pixul was slowly starting to lose her mind, or she truly found the entire situation humorous. Whatever it was, it irked me, and I felt my brow twitch slightly as my face went hard again and I steadied my aim once more.

“This isn’t a game!” I shouted, “Where are they? The server! The one from the other night! With braids and—”

“I know who the fuck you’re talking about, love.” Pixul answered finally after collecting herself from her fit. “And they’re gone. After hearing about the… ‘connection’ you two had in here, I had the bitch sent away.”

I felt a pang of sadness shoot through me, my hand trembling as the gun was starting to feel too heavy for me to carry. Heavier than the guilt that hanged heavy on my heart, knowing I was the cause for all this strife. Realizing that I’d probably never see Iannis again. That my chance for more answers was probably gone. That my mother… my mother…

I’m so sorry, Ima…

 “W-where did you send them?” My voice faltered, tears stinging the corner of my eyes and threatening to breach past my lids. Pixul only smiled wider at this.

“Wouldn’t you like to know~.” She sang, continuing to step closer yet again. I took a step back in response to each advancement from her, still holding the gun high. She paid it no mind, continuing forward until my back was against the wall and the barrel was pressed against her chest. I could tell she liked toying with me, even more so now with the state of clear distress I was in. Her smile was sinister, laden with as much desire to put a swift end to the standoff and any future ones as I was. With a bullet to the heart.

But the gun was in my hands, and as much as my finger twitched over the trigger, I still hesitated to pull it.

After everything… the death, the manipulation, the violence, the lies… I still hesitated.

“With powers like yours, it would be easy for someone to think themselves a god… and yet, you stand here… with a gun in my chest… and you’re trembling.” She frowned, the tone in her voice sounding almost… disappointed.

“Perhaps the weak-hearted Terrans have filled your mind with that same softness.” Pixul taunted, her voice low as suddenly her hand was around my neck, lifting me from the floor enough that I was eye-level, and slamming me into the wall again. She was a strong as Xhen. Maybe even stronger. I had since lost my grip on the weapon in my hand, the gun hitting the ground as I clawed at the hand around my throat, her fingers squeezing more and more around my larynx. Any attempt at resistance, the kicking of my legs or fingers tugging at her grip, was met with even more constriction. I felt the spark inside me fade, my powers betraying me in the moment of desperation. Too encumbered by my own sadness at my failures for any rage to resurface. Too preoccupied by the lack of air in my lungs to focus my energy properly.

Why did I hesitate… I shouldn’t have hesitated…

 “You should’ve just said yes.” She growled, anger returning to her glare. “It would’ve been easier on you if you di—"

There is a swift, sharp sound, one that makes Pixul’s eyes go wide as they suddenly shoot down to her side, where a thin blade punctured through her stomach. Blood oozes from the wound, and Pixul is too in shock to even make a sound. To distracted to notice that her assailant was her own cohort. One of Vex’s own men. The ostentatiously dressed figure with hair a more electric blue than hers.

Even I was shocked, but rather than let it show, I acted quickly. Fashioning Red into a heavy blade, my tsanista swiped wide and cut clear through the arm that held me in place.

I fell to the floor, gasping for the breath I was robbed of. Pixul fell to the floor too, crying out loudly the second her arm was severed. I stood from the blood-coated floor and backed away from her, watching as she writhed in pain, wailing and clutching the gory stump, then crawling on her remaining three limbs towards the gun, which her dissenter—whom I’ve nicknamed “Spike”—kicked away from her reach. Pixul was down. More than that—she was bleeding profusely, shivering and glaring up at the two of us with an insane look in her eyes.

“We need to get out of here.” Spike said. I look away from the scene to meet his eyes, nodding only once. I didn’t know if I could trust him, or anyone for that matter. But there was little time to dwell on a better solution. Not only had they literally and figuratively stabbed their partner in the back, they were offering to help me. That alone was more than enough.

He took my hand, and we ran out of the bathroom, Pixul glaring at us as we left, drenched in a pool of her own blood. I didn’t linger on the sight, merely looking ahead at the challenges that faced us. It was back to disabling the many Vaanen that swarmed us. Me, by pushing them away, shutting them down, or disarming them whenever I could. Spike took a more direct approach, swiftly jumping from one place to another, too fast for the Vaanen to target. He wielded a blade in each hand, and daggers in the two on his sides, freeing them of limbs and weapons as he cut through them with proficiency and ease. I hardly needed to do anything following closely behind them. Regardless, I offered my support where I could, shielding his side and taking out any that came behind us. Over time, our pace quickened, and my confidence returned, enough that I felt that spark building inside me once more.

We were ascending now, going from floor to floor until we reached the top. The further we got, the less Vaanen there were. And outside the windows that lined every wall of every level were cars that circled around the building.

“We can use one of these,” Spike said, grabbing my arm once more. I froze immediately, yanking away from his grasp.

“Where are we going?” I asked, eyeing in incredulously. It was a fair question. I was willing to follow him this far, sure, but now was the time for answers. Before I hopped in a vehicle and hauled ass with him, at least.

“I… I can’t explain right now. But I can when we get there.” He held out his hand towards me again, searching my expression for an ounce of faith. “You’ve trusted me so far… trust me now.”

I sighed deeply, shaking my head in uncertainty. I could run off on my own, yes. But where would I go? Was it better to go alone at all? I find that it’s better to have allies when in unknown places. Zhu’drek would have been more of a nightmare if not for Xhen. And even in a place as chaotic as this… I wasn’t opposed to having allies. Neither I nor Red had no reason to distrust him yet, after all.

Reluctantly, I reached for his hand. The second my palm clasped with his, the ceiling fell in on us. I was quick to pull him in, using Red to shield us from the glass and debris that rained from above. A giant thud shook the ground, and I thought it may have been a large chunk of the roof. Or at least, that’s what I’d hoped for. Instead, before us stood the hulking Makalden, surrounded by their shrouds of darkness, twisted vermillion eye glaring at me with furious intent.

They charged, and I immediately shielded us in a ball. The walls around us vibrated and tremored with each massive slam to the tsanista’s shell.

“What will it fucking take to kill this thing?”

[ More than electricity, it would seem. ] Red said, sounding more amused by the situation than alarmed.

{ Well, any advice? Suggestions, maybe?! }

[ I have dispatched many of their kind in my time with Kalar. They are very few means of resistance against them, one of which you have now, luckily. Even fewer weaknesses. Redirecting their mental attacks was one, though you have no access to such abilities yet… ] Red paused. They were thinking, searching their memories for a solution.

[ Rael, however, found that it was easier—and quicker—to simply… go for the eye. ]

I blinked. { The eye…? Just… stab it in the eye…? The weird, spirally one? }

[ It couldn’t hurt. ]

I turned to Spike, only to see that his eyes were shut tight. He was murmuring something unintelligible, arms trembling. The Makalden must’ve affected him, and he was shaking off the control. Or attempting to, at least.

“Keep it together…” I spoke softly, gently resting a hand on their shoulder. “Now listen to me… I’m gonna drop this shield, and when I do, I need you to stab that thing right in its eye. You’re fast… more accurate than I’ll ever be too.” I shook his shoulder, urging him to look towards me as I gave him a reassuring nod. “I’m putting all my trust in you… I need you to trust me too.”

He went still, very silent for a moment before finally answering with a small nod of his own. He turned his stern gaze forward again, and we both took one last breath. We needed to be fast, in sync. Otherwise, I was on my own should he succumb to the Makalden’s control… the last thing I wanted to be right now.

I dropped the shield, and Spike leapt forward, too fast for even the Makalden to react properly. He was quick to latch himself onto the hulking figure, arms and legs wrapped around his massive head and neck. I formed cuffs around the figure’s wrists with my tsanista, hindering any sort of retaliation while Spike sank his blade deep into the twisted, vermillion eye. Suddenly, the Makalden went as still as a statue, their arms going limp, the shadows around them dissipating. And then…

Poof.

They exploded into a cloud of black smoke and dark, viscous fluid sputtered across the walls and floor. Nothing was left of them but a billowing cloak floating gently to the ground.

I was grossed out at first. Spike, too. Then we flashed each other a wide grin, shaking off the gooey tar that coated our faces and clothes. Our celebration didn’t last long, however. More Vaanen still swarmed the building, both from the front entrance and around the building itself, circling the many floors in hovering SWAT vans. One of which shined their blinding headlights on the two of us.

I turned to Spike. “You still trust me?”

He quirked his brow, but nodded nonetheless.

I took his hand and ran forward, running towards the flying cars and away from the Vaanen that pursued us. I didn’t second-guess my actions, nor did I hesitate or question where I was going. I was unequivocally myself in this decision. As brazen, bold, and impulsive as always. I hurled us both through the window, tsanista protecting us from the shards of glass that flew around us, as we freefell from the building and towards the traffic, the bystanders, and the cold, hard ground that greeted us hundreds of feet below.

I tried flying to slow our descent, but it didn’t do much; Spike was too heavy for my delicate arms. But it wouldn’t matter; I had other means of transportation in store. A pair of Spike’s arms were wrapped firmly around my sides. I held onto his jacket, and with my free hand I tossed my tsanista forward. Immediately, it began to unfold itself, morphing and shifting until its shape was no longer a pendant, but a vehicle as large as the ones above and below us, complete with the same hovering capabilities I’d come to be familiar with in my time on this planet.

The roof of the car opened up, and we fell inside, quickly shuffling into our cold, metal seats. It closed above us, and without wasting another second I zoomed us forward, Vaanen leaping from the windows and into their own cars to chase us down with fervor.

I moved fast, weaving Red through the aerial traffic and being careful to dodge whatever cars tried to run us off our course or into the buildings surrounding us. Spike was in a state of shock, gaze shifting between the Vaanen trailing us, the bullets that ricocheted off our transport’s Ulterian steel shell, and me, the reckless driver of a vehicle that seemingly appeared out of thin air.

“How did y—”

“Not gonna lie to you? This is probably the biggest thing I’ve ever made,” I glanced at him then back at the traffic ahead with a nervous smile. “But listen… I need you to tell me where we’re going? This is kind of only my second time here, and last time wasn’t exactly a grand tour, so…”

“Oh—right.” He straightened and nodded, sitting properly in his seat now. “Several buildings down, there’s an alleyway… I’ll tell you when, but first…” His head turned to the Vaanen behind us, glaring at the sirens and shooters that tailed us so intently. “We need to lose these guys…”

“That’s what I’m trying to d—”

“Open up the top. I’m going out there.”

My head whipped towards him. “What?!”

“Just do it! Keep your eyes ahead, and keep them going in circles. I got this.”

My stare lingered. I was reluctant at first, but his determination was too unwavering to argue against. I opened the roof again, and he hopped out. The stare-down between him and the police didn’t last long. As soon as a shot rang out, he leapt forward. I could only see so much from my driver seat, but even my limited view was enough to paint a picture. Spike moved unbelievably fast. Like a cricket, he leapt from car to car, cutting through bullets, dodging them, disarming Vaanen and disassembling their weapons, dismembering them and throwing them from their vehicles and various perches with ease. He cut through some of the vehicles as well, a testament to just how sharp and sturdy those blades were. With quick, agile use of his swords, Turrets were sliced in half, and vehicle parts rained down from the sky in pieces.

Even though I did my part, swerving every which way and circling around the various skyscrapers and keeping the Vaanen confused on their chase, I still felt useless from where I sat. As the Vaanen increased in number, and their behavior became more unpredictable, it wouldn’t be long until Spike was overwhelmed.

“Red… how do you feel about being bait?”

[ …I think you should stay in the car. Your track record with combat so far has been… less than favorable. ]

“He needs help!”

[ Maybe you should reconsider your approach a bit more before flying into danger with reckless abandon? ]

I wanted to take in their words a bit more. I wanted to be as cunning and strategic as Red wanted me to be. Less rash in my decision-making. Less naïve. Less… me. It is what got us in the situation, after all.

But it’s also what would get us out.

“No time to think! Head empty! Gotta go!”

I took a deep breath, exhaled, then jettisoned myself from the vehicle, still keeping Red on their course. I could hear their curses in my head, but I ignored them, flying towards the swarming Vaanen cars as fast as I possibly could.

The energy within me swelled again, filling up my chest before flowing outwards, blanketing me in blinding, electrical power. One Vaanen had turrets aimed at Spike’s back. They had no chance to fire, however, because I’d shot myself through the bottom of their car. It practically exploded upon contact, splintering in various directions.

Spike, along with several of the Vaanen officers, veered their heads towards me. I winked in their direction before descending onto another approaching vehicle. I could hear one surging towards me from behind. I was quick to turn around, holding my hand out and freezing the car in place. With both hands, I made tugging motions in the air, as if to pull open a heavy door. The vehicle began to split, metal, wire, and glass breaking, snapping, and tearing apart until I flung my arms outward, both halves flying with them in either direction.

My new comrade offered a snide grin in return, using the opportune distraction as a chance to strike while their guards were down. And just like that, the fight had picked up again.

It went on like that for a while. Spike tearing through Vaanen, me tearing through hovering cars, motorcycles, and turrets. All until there were barely any officers left, only a few in a battered van tailing behind us. Spike leapt back to Red, landing on the roof before turning to give me a bright smile and a thumbs-up. I only laughed at the sudden dorkiness and returned one as well.

[ Congratulations on you both not being dead. ]

{ Thanks! …I guess. }

[ Don’t mention it. ]

Our celebration didn’t last nearly as long as I would’ve liked. Sirens rang through the air, and many of the neon signs that decorated every building suddenly flashed red. An image of a woman appeared on every screen, Talurian characters scrolling beneath her moving lips.

“VHESK’TEKK VALLUTHI. SIANANSIS KH’OMMIAR XH’ENTESH. PERSONS OF INTEREST IDENTIFIED.”

Our faces were what flashed next.

Oh. Shit.

“We’ve gotta move!” Spike shouted from below me, and before the words even left his lips I was already rushing towards Red. I opened the roof and the both of us hopped in immediately, racing away from the many neon signs changing bright red in our wake.

“Where do we go?” I turned to Spike. His eyes scanned every edge of the city in rapid motion. He looked almost frazzled. Completely caugh off guard by what had transpired.

“I… that way!” He pointed to an alleyway several buildings ahead. I nodded once and instantly began directing Red towards the desired location, bobbing through the now clustered traffic that surrounded us. It was a rough descent, managing to clip the side of a blinking neon billboard and nearly crashing into a car passing by, but we came out of it unscathed. We drifted straight into the alleyway, right through an invisible barrier that only made itself known as we crossed through its threshold, colors dancing around our vision for a split second. And rather than the alleyway I’d pictured before, we were parked in front of a shed, plain but big, with no windows and a single brown door.

[ Photomazers… hiding a rundown shack. Not sketchy at all. ]

I was quiet, watching Spike closely as he hopped out and began approaching the door.  I shifted my tsanista back to its original form, taking trepidatious steps towards Spike, who held the door open with one set of hands and urged me forward with the other.

Inside was a tight corridor of metal walls, with another door at the other end. We walked in a straight line, the dimly lit lights flickering as we inched closer. Opening the second entrance revealed a staircase, leading steeply in one direction. The more nervous I became with each step, the more the lights above us sputtered in rapid intonation.

I expected another long corridor, maybe more confusing than the last, when the final door swung open. Instead, I was greeted to a room full of… guns.

A vast, immeasurable number of guns.

There were aisles upon aisles filled with shelves of weapon parts, bolts, machinery, and gadgets I’d never seen until now. The walls were decorated with them, from rifles to pistols, to the shifting kind that Pixul had. Workbenches were situated between the many shelves, decorated themselves with blueprints and incomplete projects. I imagined myself seated at one of them, too high to remember my own name but still working away. That’s what Pixul had in store for me, I supposed. All of this was her plan, with me at the helm of it all.

“A weapons factory… or a small one at least,” I murmured. “But if Pixul had all of this, why did she need me?”

My head whirled around to find Spike, who’d shuffled back and forth across the room. He’d begun packing as many weapons and parts into a box as he could. I watched him—glared at him—more perplexed than ever.

“And I’m guessing your plan was to steal it all? And use me to do it?” I snapped at him, my accusatory gaze fixated on him. He practically froze in place.

“Wh—no! No, that’s no what—… Listen…” He sighed, dropping the few things he  had in hand as he approached me, trying to ease the anger that was building. “There’s more to this… and I need your help to do it. I promise I’ll explain everything, I just need—”

A loud, heavy thud could be heard levels above us. Loud enough that it reverberated throughout the entire room. Could be the Vaanen. Or perhaps Pixul’s men finally making their advance. It was too hard to tell from here, but either way the threat was all the same. One thing was for sure though: whatever qualms or distrust I had for Spike in that moment would have to wait. We needed to get out of here. And quickly, too.

Spike was frantic now, trying to cram as much as he can in that box, with no idea or plans of how to smuggle it out. Meanwhile, I was searching the room. Mostly for a way out, but also for a means of getting myself home.

Which, thanks to my own keen survey of the room, didn’t take long at all.

The transporter wasn’t like the others I’d encountered. Unlike Xhen’s and Pixul’s, this one lacked the small, rounded shape that was compact enough to fit in your pocket. Rather, this one was more of a tablet, complete with a holographic screen and more complex controls. Regardless, it worked in much of the same way, albeit with easier input of coordinates, and more… customizable features. I could transport just myself, transport another target, or… transport anything within a given radius.

The wheels in my mind began to turn.

This place was an artillery, undoubtedly belonging to Pixul. Spike was here to steal from it, and if coupled with everything else that transpired tonight, one could assume he was no more a friend of Pixul than I was. If anything, he’s most likely been acting as a double agent—or… whatever it is he is—for a while in an effort to enact this plan.

Maybe we should help him with it.

Frankly, I was fed up. I was tricked, drugged, strangled, nearly mind-controlled, shot at, and forced to run for my life, all while running on zero sleep. And what’s worse, I was now Nuva’s most wanted alongside a man who’s name I didn’t know, and who’s background I knew nothing about. Yet he’s the only one on this fucked up planet that wasn’t trying to kill me.

Circumstance fueled anger, and anger fed a desire for more revenge.

I entered the coordinates and set the transportation radius to cover the entire room. A blue, holographic grid pattern covered every inch of the room’s contents, including me and Spike, who’d stopped in his tracks once they realized what I was doing.

[ You cannot be serious… ] Red dissented.

“I’m so serious.” I mumbled back, finger hovering over the command button.

I could hear the Vaanen at the door, breaking through and shuffling down the narrow staircase. Spike’s gaze switched between me and the door before finally fixating on the danger that approached us, brandishing a blade in each of his four arms. Soon, those doors would swing open, and he alone would cut down the threat. But I wouldn’t let him.

Silently, I made a prayer that I’d never have to set foot in this place ever again. Then I pressed the command button on the transporter.

In an instant, I felt my body swell with that familiar energy, that push and pull of the universe as we’re thrown across galaxies. It’s only a second later that I feel myself falling against the cold, hard floor of the shooting range. The weapons that threaten to hail down on us were instead frozen in mid air, my hands held above my head as I slowed their descent to the ground.

I take in the sight of my surroundings once more. The targets lined against the wall. The bows hanging from racks, arrows docked in quivers that hung alongside them. Hundreds of guns and parts that littered the floor. And Spike, staring at me with a face riddled with both shock and confusion.

Welcome back to Earth, Miu.

You’re fucked.

19th hour of Sandis Vaak. At the border of the southern faction of Seris. The skies are blanketed in gray, and the ground soaked in violet.

Kalar and their forces have arrived. A final answer to the southern rebellions.

The Morassi Resistance have spread their ideology further into the heart of the continent than before, which in turn has led to more outbreaks and riots by small indigenous groups, fishers, farmers, the working class. Those tired of the elite of Camer’s central factions, and the lack of protection and acknowledgement of the Ministry. Centuries of preaching about the greatness of Camer. Centuries of never being included in that narrative. It all came to a boil at once.

To answer with violence was a swift decision for the rest of the Ministry. They had since grown tired of Minister Ghivussi and Minister Gimli’s more passive approach, attempting to appease the protestors by bringing their queiries to the light of those in power. But nothing ever came of it. Radical visionaries want nothing more than to completely dismantle the system that disenfranchises them, and the Camerian elite were far too apprehensive of change. Even the slightest threat to their dominance had to be snuffed out.

Kalar had no problem answering their selfish grievances in this manner, but they cared very little for their own motivations. The Grand Minister had over time become less concerned with the state of politics. Class tensions, riots, and civil war were all things that seemed diminutive in their eyes. Too world-bound. Too tied to the present. Kalar had their eyes on what was to come. On prophecy, fate, and their own intuition.

Kalar was different now. Ever since Eshta brought the [ MEMORY REDACTED ] to their feet. Ever since Umvis’ passing. They were not themselves. Obsessive and quick to snap. Impulsive. Dangerous.

Kalar was spiraling. And Seris would be the first to feel the brunt of it.

I was pushed to my limit that day. I remember at one point becoming massive wheels lined with serrated blades, carving through the very earth beneath their running feet. At another point, I splintered into a million daggers that rained down from the skies above their head, whistling through the air until I pierced through flesh so quickly it could barely be heard. Massive structures, buildings, homes formed of metal were bent, crushed, and toppled to the ground. The very gravity beneath them shifted, pulling them down to their hands and knees as a pitch so high in frequency rang through the air until they bled from their ears. It was a bloodbath. A massacre, one of which Kalar was the sole culprit. Very few rebels survived that day, and even fewer civilians looked upon their Grand Minister with kind eyes from then on.

Rael was also there, watching as their ima carved through swaths of fighters with vigor. It was nothing to them. An effortless flick of their wrist, extension of their will. Rael’s approach to the violence was on a much narrower scale. They focused on enemy at a time, cutting them down with as much speed and efficiency as the Minister leading the charge. They never reveled in their suffering, however. Never once found enjoyment in taking a life. Though they never empathized either. Their heart was completely closed to it. Detached from the violence. There was no sorrow, nor was there any hint of sadism.

This was Rael’s duty. Their sole objective. Yet another weapon for Kalar to extend their will upon. Another cog in the wheel of their grand scheme. And Rael was so passive, so eager to please, so desperate to find purpose in this life, that they allowed their ima complete control.

Hours into the violence. Barely any were left standing. Those that did surrendered their arms, and their lives, to serve the Grand Minister in any way they deemed appropriate. Anything to avoid imprisonment. Or worse, torture. Or death.

Kalar merely waved them off, as if this were beneath them. They would deal with them later. The Minister’s mind was preoccupied, their attention fixated on the next goal. The second cog on her wheel.

The estate of the Minister of Seris. Ghivussi was waiting for them, down on hands and knees. Their face weary and ridden with grief, whilst Kalar wore a smile. The battle was over, and now Minister Ghivussi knelt at the feet of their victor. Rael kept some distance, lurking around the vast space of the Minister’s living quarters as they observed the scene with curiosity that was almost cat-like.

“Oh, Ghivussi…” Kalar began, twirling my bladed form between their fingertips with deft precision. “If you had only done your job. Think of all the lives you could’ve saved.”

“This… this was an unnecessary display of your power. This could’ve all been avoided had you and the rest of the Ministry simply… simply listened to the people! What their needs were… I could not enact change alone…” Ghivussi coughed, old bones trembling as they straightened from their kneeling position, staring up into Kalar’s eyes with all the determination they could muster. “I’ve done all I could. While you all did nothing. The blood is on your hands.”

Kalar huffed a dry laugh, rolling their eyes as they glanced down at Ghivussi. They seemed unimpressed by their tenacity, and even less moved by their words. Instead, their eyes wandered around the chamber, across the elaborate tapestries and the ornate carvings in the ceiling, down to the wide entrance that led to the bleak devastation Kalar left behind.

“All of this… none of it matters, does it?” Kalar stated, eyes still fixated on the ash gray clouds that rolled over the decimated landscape. “In the end, it’s all meaningless.”

“I-in the end…?” Ghivussi asked, seeming more unnerved by the Grand Minister with every passing second.

Kalar’s eyes flickered towards them again, their smile stretching across their once vacant expression, “Oh, yes. The ending… I’ve seen it.” Kalar crouched down to their level, roughly taking their face in their hand. “There are many worlds to visit… but this one ends. That ending approaches... getting closer and closer every day.”

Their smile is sanguine now, more genuine. As if they were attempting to quell their greatest fears. To comfort them…

“It all starts with you.”

Kalar released their face, standing and turning to their child, who was now standing frozen in place, awaiting a command.

“Kill them. Remove the head.”

Tension rose in Rael, who hesitated to step forward, to even utter the defiance that later left their lips.

“Ima… they’re a Minister. I can’t—”

“They will soon be replaced. It is of no consequence, child.” Kalar answered plainly, pointing their blade toward Ghivussi’s throat. “I will not repeat myself.”

Rael is quiet now, jaw tightened as they inched forward. Their eyes flickered between Ghivussi, who quivered in fear and begged helplessly for their life, and their ima, who merely stared at the frightened Minister with complete disregard, with unwavering apathy. Kalar was unhinged, and with every step forward, Rael saw it more clearly.

Despite their unease, there was no falter in their stride. No trembling in their stance as they held their tsanista—Galagar, it was named—extended in its blade form to the Minister’s neck. They fell quiet, shaking even more under Rael’s solemn stare, and Kalar’s intense glower.

Rael would do it. They had no choice. It was either kill the Minister and return home, or face Kalar. The largest threat. The worst threat.

Rael’s arm shot out, and the Minister’s head toppled to the floor, coating the smooth crystal surface in a pool of fresh blood.

Kalar looked pleased. Rael looked ill.

It was the first time I’d ever seen them disturbed by a kill. Usually, they were as unfeeling in their actions as their ima. But this time was different. They just killed a member of the Ministry. And Kalar carried their head around as if it were a trophy.

Rael felt sick.

“The rebels did this.” Kalar held the head high, staring into its lifeless eyes. “They murdered their own Minister. Began an uprising. They needed to be stopped… and we did that today.” Their eyes flickered towards their child, the smile returning to their face. “You did that.”

Galagar dropped to the floor with a loud clang. Rael’s fists tightened, trembling as they glared at their ima with rage. With disgust.

“You call this… justice? You think this is right?!” Their voice was raised now, their gait quickened as they approached Kalar. “None of this… none of this was for Camer. It was for you. You and that… that fucking—”

“Mind your tongue.” Kalar snapped, their lips suddenly shifted into a frown. They were more than displeased with the sudden display. They tossed the head across the room, moving close enough that they were glaring down at them, that their breath could be felt on them.

“And if you are going to get brave with me, make sure you have your weapon in hand.”

There was stillness between the both of them, eyes locked in silence, yet the tension could be felt in the air. Neither moved. Not even so much as a flinch could be seen.

Until…

Galagar leapt from the floor and snapped back into Rael’s hand. Once the tsanista touched their palm, they were sent flying back as gravity betrayed them. They recovered, landing against the wall in a crouched position, one they only held for a second as Kalar stretched my form into a giant pillar, shooting out towards Rael. They leaped out of harm’s way, leaving a massive crater in their wave as they ran across the walls and ceiling searching for an opening. Kalar would not make it easy for them, pulling me back and splitting me several ways to form large rings, each getting larger than the other as they revolved around Kalar’s now levitating form. The rings were wide and heavy, each one shooting out pillar after pillar in an effort to cease their opponent’s quick evasions. But Rael was too fast, too cunning, too well-trained to fall prey to such simple tricks. They dodged, weaved, and ran quickly across the walls, ceiling, even leaping from ring to ring until they found their opening. They formed thin daggers from their tsanista, shooting them towards the Minister with great precision. Most were deflected by the inner ring, but one found it way in, scratching them across the cheek.

Rael found their opening. Like a fly lured into a spider’s web.

The scar healed immediately, and Kalar grinned viciously as the younger one leapt towards them in one instantaneous motion, blinking closer once a ring threatened their path. They were inches away from Kalar’s face, inches away from dealing any sort of blow with real weight to it.

Then time stopped around them. And Rael was frozen in mid-air.

Kalar smiled, my rings reduced in size and forming cuffs around both of my tsanagar’s arms. They stare at their child curiously for a while, until their fingers wrapped slowly around their neck. Time started again, and Rael, as quickly as they charged forward, was slammed against the ground with enough force that several large cracks split through the floor in several directions.

Rael strained against their grip for a while, legs kicking as much as they could under Kalar’s weight, light gasps escaping as fingers tensed around their throat. After some time however, they ceased in their struggling, not even bothering to retaliate in any form knowing Kalar would have a response of their own. The young tsanagar merely laid there, tapered breaths leaving them as they stared deeply into Kalar’s eyes, full of intent, of a rage that slowly became subdued as their wicked smile returned once more.

“You don’t see it yet… do you?” Kalar’s fingers tightened slightly, their other hand pinning Rael’s wrist harshly against the floor to halt the clawing at their arm. “You can’t feel it… but you will. Destiny finds us all.”

Kalar released Rael and stood, yanking the younger one from the ground by their shoulders, holding them tightly in place as they whispered against their ear.

“I still have need of you, Exiled.”

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

Rael stayed behind for a while, rubbing the finger-shaped bruises around their neck, and staring hard at the severed head at their feet. Kalar re-entered the bleakness of the outside world with a smile, perhaps proud of themselves for fulfilling whatever task they set out to achieve with all of this madness. I remember their elation quite clearly. I remember my own unease.

[ Am I still yours? ]

The question left me on impulse. It caused Kalar to pause, the joy wiped from their features and replaced with… uncertainty. Discomfort.

They clasped their hand over my medallion form, squeezing gently in an act of intimacy. The one moment of silence, of peace, we had in a long time.

“Always.”

Always…

[ Feels like a lie. ]

#p: red

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 5 ⋮ Red // Chapter 4

September 20th, 2019. 2:00 AM. ♪ - Bourgeoisie / Crimson Throne

TW: blood, violence, body horror

Rael always smiled the hardest around Iannis kar Ulmervis.

Iannis… The inventor’s child.

They weren’t nearly as socially inept as their ima was. They moved and spoke and acted with all the elegance of a noble despite not coming from such a background. Their touch was as comforting as gentle ocean winds caressing the skin, and their voice as intoxicating as the sweet nectar of Maladian pine fruits. They were as sharp as their own ima, capable and full of wit. Always kept the Minister’s young successor on their toes. Rael never grew tired of them, never parted from them for too long, swore endlessly their devotion to them. Always at their beck and call.

“How disappointing.” Kalar voiced their disapproval aloud, but only to an audience of one. The Grand Minister had since retired to their quarters with Umvis after a less than enjoyable meeting with their advisory. Eshta, in a surprise to no one, was absent, with Iannis acting as a representative in their stead. Perhaps this delighted Rael, but Kalar had grown more than tired of the young future partisan’s unnecessary acerbity, especially when Kalar rightfully questioned their judgement. It was as if they enjoyed the sour glares that the Minister gave them, the broiling looks of disapproval.

The resentment that practically rolled off their skin.

Umvis observed Kalar’s frustration, and rather than offering sympathy, they merely chuckled. Kalar’s head quickly veered in their direction, hoping their piercing glare with silence their laughter. It didn’t, of course, and Umvis merely stared up at them with a kind smile.

“My dear… I’m starting to think you are merely looking for reasons to dislike the child simply because you are jealous.”

“I do not get jealous.” Kalar sneered, rolling their eyes to such an accusation. They turned their gaze away from Umvis, arms crossed and resting in their lap. Kalar would deny it for as long as they could, but if Umvis could see it, then they were far from hiding it well. Kalar had grown envious of Iannis’ connection with their child. However, it was not formed from some internalized parental instinct to protect and shield their children from the pain that existed in the world, from disappointment or heartbreak. No… Kalar simply disliked the idea of being replaced as the most important figure in Rael’s life. A loss of control… that was something they couldn’t tolerate. Because as far as Kalar was concerned, no one was good enough to fill their shoes. Especially Eshta’s little harlot.

Umvis sensed their tension, and rather than running away from it like most would, they simply placed their hand over the folded one in Kalar’s lap. Kalar blinked, staring down at the gesture in surprise. The tension suddenly rolled off them in waves, warmth entering their expression. It was a rare sight, Kalar’s softer side. Very few were lucky enough to see it. But Umvis had always been good at breaking through Kalar’s resolutely built barriers. They have been the Minister’s longest friend, their greatest ally, the only one fully entrusted with their heart. Kalar may have thought themselves incapable of the emotion, but what they felt for Umvis truly was love. And even now, through all their pettiness, Umvis did not judge or berate them. Instead, they offered comfort and understanding.

Kalar wasted no more time on words. Instead, they repaid Umvis’ affection with their own. Kalar often wished they were born a Gris. They wanted to feel that powe, that fervent heat culminating in their chest, spreading across every inch of their skin in ripples of light and fire, at all times. But for now, this would suffice. To only feel such electricity in their quieter moments with Umvis… that was something they could live with.

It was later into the night now. Six moons hung in the sky, and Umvis had been worked into a deep slumber. Kalar was still awake, however. Kept up by something. Some voice, echoing in the back of their mind. It was not my voice, as I’d grown accustomed to falling silent at such an hour. It was another. One unfamiliar to me, and yet I recognized its essence somehow. And perhaps Kalar did too, because they sat and stared intently at something from across the room.

They stand and grab their robes, wrapping it around themselves as they traversed across the room, slowly and quietly as not to disturb their sleeping lover. As they moved closer to a tapestry closest to the door, the voice grew louder. It was more incumbering than before. As if willing Kalar forward. As if pushing them. Commanding them.

Kalar paused before the tapestry, hesitating to pull it aside until the voice was booming. Kalar winced, as if the noise only present to them was palpable to all, loud and unbearable. It’s then that they were quick to lift the tapestry, revealing a small cubby, hidden away from sight. It was kept there, among old books and trinkets. Among the few remnants of their late ima Salas Kalar had managed to save.

It was the small, steel box that carried the inventor’s discovery. It was the sh—[MEMORY REDACTED].

How did it get here… Eshta was meant to be studying the artifact—

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Kalar lifted the lid, pulling the [MEMORY REDACTED] from its containment. It was only then that the voices became quieter, more soothing. A small, yet melodic rumble against the eardrum. The Minister fell to their knees, holding the artifact close to their chest, eyes fixated on its pulsating glow.

Suddenly, the voices amplified itself again, and Kalar gasped, holding the [MEMORY REDACTED] out before them, staring deeply into its center. The words come more clearly to them this time. Words that could be understood. Directions that could be followed.

[MEMORY REDACTED]

It does not speak to me. Only to my tsanagar. A riddle in three parts. A destiny with three steps. A cycle, with a beginning, an end, a renewal.

Kalar whispers the first out loud.

“The Transgressor perishes…”

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Many hours have passed, but the night was still young. And something ominous hung in the air.

Kalar was no longer in their quarters. They stood in another’s bedroom. The chambers of ima Malvas, who was just abruptly awakened from their sleep by their child’s surprise visit.

“Y-you—” Malvas coughed violently, the fit continuing as they sat more upright, old bones trembling as they attempted to do so. “We are in the middle of civil war… of social unrest… And yet, you c-come in here… speaking your nonsense again… you’re as… senseless as your f-fucking ima…”

Kalar, who stared out into the night sky, simply turned to face the old ruler, a gentle smile painted on their face. “Oh, ima…” They approached the bed, arms crossed behind their back as their expression remained as is. Malvas seemed more nervous, more thrown off by this. Kalar’s face appeared gentle, but their stance was menacing as they glowered down at their parent, who looked small and frail by comparison. Something Kalar had never seen in their childhood. It was a sight they could get used to.

“I have never been senseless. You never raised me that way,” their smile grew wider now. “In fact, I feel more enlightened than ever.”

“Then you truly are a fool,” Malvas spat back. “If you’ve come to spout your usual insults, then—” Another loud wheeze, “—then be out with it and be on your way. I tire… and you should too.”

“Is it hard to believe that I came here because I miss you?” Kalar eyed them with a quirked brow.

“You have never held such affections for me in your heart before, Grand Minister,” they responded, uttering the title with such contempt in their voice, to which Kalar only sighs and glances back to the open window.

“I have grown tired of hate,” they state plainly, eyes turning back to their ima, “Now, I only feel what is necessary… something you will never understand. Because that’s all you are. Hate. There’s nothing else to you. Nothing else inside you. Not love… not joy… not even avarice or pride...” Kalar’s features darkened, taking two steps forward so they were practically hovering above Malvas.

“…You are nothing but the worst parts of me.”

Kalar reached forward to carefully place a hand on their ima’s chest, only to force them on to their back once more. Malvas gasped, attempting to fight against the iron grip. But they are weak. Centuries old while Kalar is in their prime. Stronger, cleverer, more powerful than they had ever been.

“You look tired, Ima…” Kalar’s grip tightened around the fabric of their nightclothes, nails digging into the skin as Malvas fought harder, gasping and frantically clawing at their arm. Too frail to pull it away. Too lost for breath to scream.

“Let me give you rest.”

It felt as though the room was shaking. As if the earth quaked and rumbled beneath us, ready to swallow us whole. There is terror in Malvas’ eyes, and a joy so unsettling residing in Kalar’s.

They held it in their hand. The [MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Blood puckers from Kalar’s fingers and around the edges where she held it, violet liquid streaking across its crystalline form. The power hurts them. Scars them. They bleed heavily, no matter how much I heal the wounds.

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Malvas shakes, convulses. Limbs contort. The voices speak louder and louder, echoing off the chamber walls

THE TRANGRESSOR PERISHES… THE TRANSGRESSOR PERISHES…

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

 There is a balance to everything…

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Malvas’ body was found the next morning, encased in a massive cocoon of hardened crystal. Their body twisted and pulled apart in a way too grotesque for any to look upon.

But Kalar was not found by their ima’s bed.

Instead they were by Umvis, who was found with their limbs stretched, coiled, and wrapped around their body. Their face unrecognizable. Their mangled body entrapped in that same crystalline coffin.

And Kalar does nothing but cry. Cry and wail from a pain that not even I could heal.

The voice comes again, still speaking its next commands.

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

There is a balance to everything. A push and pull. An ebb and flow.

One and two, becomes three. The third holds the power in the end.

The third… the third...

[ It’s time to wake up. ]

The drug is called mhiconnia. Colloquially, it’s referred to as Storm’s Tears.

It’s a hallucinogen originally manufactured in Llarnis, and eventually made its way over to Nuva, no doubt through underground trading. Its silver, glittering appearance hides its true nature as a mind-altering intoxicant, one that triggers a state of instant euphoria. The high eventually fades, however, and leaves you in a state of numbness, mindlessness, and low energy that can last for several hours, days, or even months depending on how much one is exposed to. It’s meant to leave the user with nothing but a numbed mind and happy memories, leaving them ignorant and vulnerable the world around them as they dance and sway in a state of utter bliss. That’s what makes it so incredibly dangerous: the perfect ingredient for an empty-headed minion, one that can’t fight back and never says no.

I’m sure this is what Pixul intended for me. To keep me as ignorant and agreeable as possible, for as long as possible, until she needed to “sedate” me again. To make me forget the ways in which she manipulated me, to have me produce whatever it was she and her connections needed while I simply nodded and worked away as if nothing was wrong.

However, a hole existed in her plan: I was of two minds. One of which was not affected by her special little drug at all.

She didn’t count on Red.

They were the reason I remembered what happened that night, and the only reason I knew anything about Storm’s Tears. All because Red went on long tirades about my carelessness nearly every day since our return.

Granted, I’d be pretty mad at me too.

{ How many times do I have to say it before you believe me? I’m sorry. } I sighed again, firing another arrow at the practice target, adjusting the shooting glove on my hand before pulling another arrow from the quiver at my side. Archery seemed to be the best release of my frustration these days. That, and violent video games. Though I found myself coming to the shooting range more often than usual. It appears shooting things in real life was just as good at relieving my tension.

[ I’ll believe your apology once you’ve handled the problem. ]

{ The problem is handled. I had a fuck ton of that Storm’s Tears shit in my system. She probably still thinks I’m high right now. And when she gets here? We’ll take her by surprise and beat her ass. }

[ Uh huh… the same way you beat Xhen’s ass? ]

{ No, the same way I was able to escape the fucking Process. What the hell, I thought you believed in me... }

[ I’m starting to question whether I was in my right mind when I said that. ]

Grumbling, I nocked another arrow and roughly fired at the target. The arrow hits closer to the center than before, but still a ways off, causing me to sigh heavily again.

[ You hate to hear it, but it is true. Pixul is the type of person that always thinks ahead, while you merely think on a whim, which you clearly showcased that night. You were naïve, inattentive, and too quick to trust. You followed Pixul onto that dancefloor without considering the potential repercussions. ]

{ The repercussions of dancing? }

[ Of dropping your guard with a stranger, of which we now know is heavily involved in black market trading and gang wars, and made it easy for them to take advantage of you. If you’d taken the time to read their behavior, to think through your actions, we would not be in this position. ]

I raised my bow and took aim, but the way Red’s words hit me caused hesitation. My hands trembled, biting my lip as I struggled to maintain a steady grasp. Every part of me was shaking with anger. Not at Red despite how they ripped through me, but at myself. Angry at how stupid I’d acted. Sure, I could blame it on the fact that it was nearly 2AM and half my brain seemed to cease all matter of function when sleep deprived, but that was an even weaker excuse. I was to blame. My own carelessness did this. My own shortsightedness. My lack of understanding—true understanding—of the type of person Pixul was.

And now I’m lucky enough to have a chance at correcting those mistakes. The chance to catch Pixul off her guard. The chance to beat her fucking face in…

And I can’t. Because now there is exist something—someone—that complicates everything.

Iannis. Yet another Camerian lucky enough to survive the Process’ massacre.

They were Eshta’s child, meaning they had close ties with Kalar, considering they were an important figure in their courts. More importantly, they had even closer ties with my mother. Romantic ties. The very image of them together, happy and at peace, swam through my head ever since the memory surfaced. Their life together was destroyed, dead along with the rest of Camer. And even though they were still alive… they were worlds apart from one another.

I couldn’t just leave them there.

The trembling spread throughout my whole body now, making aiming an even more trying task. Defeated, I dropped my arms, tossing the arrow back into the quiver as I let out a frustrated sigh. I went and sat on the benches along the border of the training room, head resting against the wall as I breathed out heavily, blowing a stray hair away from my face. I never liked feeling stupid, or being bested either. And it didn’t help my self-esteem to be reminded that both the things I dreaded so much happened to me a month ago. All of which I still had to deal with now.

The urge to just sigh and give up on all of this, to run away from it, to hide from it, was felt so strongly within me. But hiding wouldn’t end things. It wouldn’t stop Pixul from coming for me. It wouldn’t stop Iannis from existing. It certainly wouldn’t make Red think of me as anything other than a coward.

No… I had to own up to my mistakes. Face them head-on. Running wasn’t the Miu way. And it never will be.

I stood up and treaded across the room to grab another arrow from the quiver, twirling it in my hand as I stared down the bullseye across from me. { I have a plan… }

[ Do you? ]

{ Yes... one that will get us back to Iannis and revenge on Pixul. But it will require us to be more… covert. }

I nocked the arrow and raised my bow as I aimed it towards the target. Without hesitation this time, I sent the arrow flying. A spark of hope shot through me seeing the arrow land centimeters away from the center. It wasn’t exact, but it was close enough to revel in the wave of pride that washed over me.

[ Getting better. ]

I shrugged, smiling at the compliment.

[ Your plan… what does it involve exactly? And how do we know Pixul won’t be prepared for it? ]

{ Because it involves giving Pixul exactly what she wants… }

I nocked another arrow, eyeing the bullseye with intent, with a burgeoning desire for success. I let my arrow fly, grinning as the tip pierced the small, black center.

{ Someone ready and willing. }

I was quite the fan of glitter. It was easy to tell from the amount of makeup I owned that all glittered, shimmered, or dazzled in some way. Sparkling eyeshadow, lip gloss, and blush were all applied messily and heavily to my face. I kept my hair as disheveled as possible, clothes ragged and loose. I wanted the appearance that Pixul most expected. The one of a mindless zombie. One who’d been waiting around for weeks without the motivation to so much as leave their bed. The empty-headed minion she wanted.

Hours of waiting followed. I sat cross-legged on my couch in that time, aimlessly staring at the TV and idly petting my dogs as they came and went. I even practiced my mannerisms. I slouched heavily, dragged my feet as I walked, tilted my head back and forth and side-to-side as if I were struggling to keep it in place. Anything that made my feigned Tears-induced stupor seem more believable.

At some point I figured Pixul must be waiting until it was late like last time, an assumption that was confirmed once the darkness of night rolled in. It was maybe 11:30 PM now. Some melodramatic show was playing on the TV at a low volume, and my dogs had all but passed out now. It was then that I heard loud whizzing noise that the transporter produced, followed by a thud as their heavy feet hit the roof and another as they jumped down.

I prepared myself, slouching, staring at the screen with the deadest look in my eyes. Even Red, despite not needing to be, was silent.

They fiddled with the knob for some time. I could hear the tools twisting and prodding in the keyhole until the lock was undone. The door swung open slowly, and I stilled myself in response. The ghostly sounds of midnight air swirling from outside were accompanied by heavy footsteps, making their way slowly into my home. Closer and closer they came, walking around the living room to find nothing but pillows, blankets, and clothing thrown around. Mess from candy wrappers, snack crumbs, and a half-eaten slice of cake left on a saucer. Then there was me, sitting silently among the chaos, a dazed look in my eyes, eyes that slowly rolled to meet Pixul’s striking gaze and amused smirk.

“Told you she’d still be here.” Her eyes flickered towards the second figure standing adjacent to her, of whom I assumed had to be her companion from her last visit.

“Still. She should have been monitored.” Taz stated plainly, confirming their presence.

Pixul rolled her eyes as she leaned down towards me. Grabbing my face in her hands, she inspected me over. I hardly reacted, allowing her to turn my head and regard my expression until they were satisfied. With a hum, she released me, glancing over at Taz with a raised brow.

“See? Still under the spell. She’s not even moving…” Pixul began snapping her fingers close to my ear. The sound almost makes me jump, but luckily I maintained my unresponsive state. Pixul shrugged and gave up with an even wider smile. Even Taz is satisfied, letting out a small humph before leaning forward to lift me roughly by my hoodie.

I let out a sharp gasp as I’m yanked away from my spot on the couch, stumbling as I try to regain my footing. Pixul snorted at my efforts, while Taz simply held me in place, their face as unchanging as mine.

Pixul’s hands find my chin again, turning my face to look at her. In her free hand, she carried a small vial of glittering dust, shimmering and glowing as she shook it.

Storm’s Tears.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you some more, okay?” Her grin was stretched across her face now. “Unless you want some now… that’ll put you in a good mood, yeah?”

I tensed. I wanted to run. To kick, to fight, to do anything other than be sedated by that stuff again. But that would blow my cover, and possibly push me further away from Iannis. A fight isn’t what we needed right now. I’d have to stay put… no matter what happened.

Pixul could sense my tension. I could tell from the way her brow quirked at the sudden tightening of my jaw under her grasp. And perhaps she interpreted it as an eagerness to snatch the vial away from her rather than fear, because rather than blowing it in my face, she simply laughed at me and shoved it back in her pocket.

“I knew that’d excite you! Now let’s get out of this… dump,” she stated, giving the room one last look of disgust before draping an arm loosely over my shoulder and pulling out her transporter. I quickly glance over at the transporter’s screen to read the blinking icon in the corner. There were two charges left. One to get us there.

And another to get Iannis and I back.

Pixul’s thumb pressed down on the button, and suddenly we’re surged forward by that powerful force, pulling us rapidly through space in time until our feet hit the ground half a second later. I looked around to take in the familiar neon lights that flooded the busy streets of Gan’em, then turned around to face the towering structure that spelled out the name of Pixul’s club in bright Talurian lettering.

I gulped, and without warning I was being pushed from behind by Taz, the both of us following Pixul inside. She waved off the security as we made our entrance, greeted yet again by the sight of raving clubbers under a shower of Tears, booming music and flashing lights, a crowded bar, levels upon levels of people dancing, drinking, and lounging around with expensive potions and shots as they watched the chaos unfold around them.

I’m pulled away from all of it. Instead, I’m dragged onto an elevator, standing quietly between my two captors as we’re rapidly transported to the top floor. I’m led down another hallway walls after, then another, until we reached a room with two heavy doors at the end. The guards waiting on each side push them open once they saw Pixul approaching. It was like another VIP room, much larger than the one from last time. It was a stark contrast to the brightly lit, crimson red corridors from before. The room was dim, safe for the neon lights that trimming the ceiling, floors, and furniture. Couches were stretched across every wall, with other comfortable seating circled across several tables found in various spaces in the room.

“Fuck… Vex isn’t here yet.” Pixul sighed, placing her hand on her hips as she glanced down at me. “Put her over there,” she nodded in another direction, “There’s a few things we can still go over before the meeting.”

Taz nodded once, then dragged me over to one of the couches in the corner of the room, tossing me down without an ounce of care before making their way over to Pixul. They mumbled quietly to each other. I tried hard to listen in, but to no avail. They were too far away, and I was too distracted by the gaudiness of this room to focus on anything else.

Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on the things around me. The very energy in this room. The lights, the bar, the electricity that ran through the walls. I extended my focus past the room, my connection going as far as the entire level, then the many other levels below us. Every mechanical whirl and hiss and hum, every electrical volt, every piece of living, working technology I could feel heavily within me. Most were familiar things: the neon lights, the booming speakers from downstairs, the technicolored dancefloor. But there was something… peculiar coming from the outside. Something attached to the side of the building, giving off pulsating signals that were alien to me. I investigated further, reaching along the sides of the tower and tracing every inch for anything giving off a similar feel.

I counted twelve of them.

{ Red… do you know what that is? Something outside… transmitting some kind of signal. }

[ Mm… the sensation is familiar to me. If I had to guess, my first assumption would be deadzoners. ]

I tilted my head slightly { I think Pixul mentioned something about… ‘deadzone tech’? What is it used for… }

[ The Nuvassi government has an… interesting way of tracking criminal activity. Upon release from detention, felons are forcefully implanted with a chip at the base of their skulls. This allows for investigators to monitor all manner of brain activity. Whatever the recipient sees, thinks, feels, even tastes… officials take record of it. Any sign of suspicious activity will trigger the attention of the Vaanen, Nuva’s police force. ]

{ So… I’m guessing the deadzoners block transmissions from the chips? }

[ Not just block. The transmission is altered completely. Rather than create a blindspot for the government, deadzoners send back false information that do not arouse suspicion. In this case, it makes it seem as though only engaging in docile activities that are within the confines of the law. ]

{ Which would essentially make Pixul’s club a safe zone for Nuva’s underground? }

[ Precisely. ]

I was sitting up now, the information being more than intriguing. I looked over to see if I’d caught the attention of anyone, but no one seemed to be concerned with me. Pixul and Taz continued to talk, clearly about something serious. The bartender merely tended to the sleek counter of the bar. No one so much as glanced in this direction.

Realizing there wasn’t any amount of attention on me, I pulled my legs close to my chest and rested my head against my knees. My eyes fluttered close once more, and I began searching for that signal again. Searching through the millions and millions of electrical impulses spread throughout the building until I found that same device, in all 12 spots. I focused harder, straining and pulling at that energy as I attempted to control it. The circuits came to me one by one, impulse by impulse. The transmission slowly began to form clearly in my mind. And once it did… I shut it off. One by one, I took out each deadzoner, forcing my authority over it until it was no more. Until that transmission ceased in its function.

Pixul’s safe haven wasn’t so safe anymore.

I lifted my head to find Pixul and Taz, their serious conversation now seemingly more flirtatious.

“I need to use the restroom,” I said out loud, perhaps the first words I’d spoken all day.

Pixul paused, and at first she looked annoyed. But suddenly her face contorted into something else.  Less annoyed, more… apprehensive.

She left Taz at the bar and made her way towards me. She stopped an inch short of me, looking down with a pensive stare. I was beginning to think that maybe she was seeing through my act now.

She crouched down, sighing as she reached into her pocket again to retrieve the vial of Storm’s Tears. I went tense again and she took note of it, probably knowing this time that it was indeed fear.

Her eyes flickered up to me as the corner of her lips curled into a small smirk, “You wanna go look for your friend?”

I went still, unable to utter a single rebuttal, the iciness of her words creeping over my skin in a slow-building sheet of frost. I desperately kept thinking of what to say, of what to do. I couldn’t keep my act up when was so clearly starting to see through it.

Pixul harshly grabbed my face again and snatched me forward, popping off the top of the vial with her thumb as she held it up to my face. “Maybe you need a little more, yeah?” Her smirk stretched into a grin. I strained against her grasp, but it was hardly of any use. Pixul was strong, carrying the same Talurian strength I’d seen in Xhen. No amount of struggle would help.

“Just… breath in,” she uttered softly.

This was it. I was going to have to fight my way out of here. To find Iannis as fast as I could and go. I could feel the spark in my chest, the building electricity crawling its way through my veins. I was ready. I was—

“Pixul!”

The sudden exclamation came from the worker bursting through the door, clearly out of breath with a look of urgency written all over their face. Pixul released me in response, head whirling around to meet the source of the sound. The annoyed look was back again, and I felt the power that quelled within me suddenly dissipate as a result of the distraction.

“What is it now?” She shouted back.

“Vex! He’s here…”

The annoyed expression was replaced with the same urgency as the other, as Pixul immediately lifted me from my seat and pulled me to the center of the room. Taz met us there, pulling a heavy metal chair closely behind them. Pixul shoved me in it, and Taz began restraining my wrists and hands completely in heavy metal cuffs attached to each side.

“To keep you from flying off, love.” Pixul simpered, looking pleased with herself as she turned her attention back to the open doors.

I couldn’t see who was coming down the hallway from where I was sitting, but I could hear the cacophony of footsteps, getting louder and louder and they approached the room, the chiming of dangling chains, the heavy grunts, the squeaking of leather garments and shoes. It wasn’t until they’d finally entered, Pixul greeting them warmly and with a wide smile, all while ordering one of the staff to light up the room more, that I got a better look at Vex and his cohorts.

Three of the men were tall and burly, metal lining their muscular arms and down their torso. They appeared Talurian, judging from the ornate, purple marking along their face. Most of their bodies were made up of cybernetics, which I could tell from the strong electrical fields they emitted.

Another was far more ostentatiously dressed than any of the others. His clothes were covered in spikes and stickers, so much that you couldn’t see the actual fabric of the clothing. His face was covered with bandages, ears pierced heavily and decorated with dangling gems and metals. A thick, heavy shackle was fitted around his neck, laced with a golden chain. His hair was electric blue, much like the ends of Pixul’s, shaven down at the sides and kept in two loose braids that rested on either side of him. From the hair to his clothes to his piercing white eyes, it’d be hard to miss him in the biggest crowd.

Then there was Vex, whose appearance was far more simplistic than any of the people accompanying him. He wore simple black pants with a matching robe, crisp and fitted, that reached his knees. His skin and hair were a pale, almost ash gray color, and his eyes were a piercing, vibrant blue. He had this striking, yet regal air to him. Carrying himself with as much confidence as I’d seen Kalar have in my dreams.

[ Hm, a Vanossi. Interesting. ]

{ A Vano..ssi…? }

[ They’re a race from the north. The Camerians thought them frail and cowardly. Which most of them are. But perhaps the Vanossi in Nuva are different. They’d have to be, considering the trial it is to escape their country. ]

{ …Escape?! }

[ It is a cursed land… the skies infested with Stormers. This Vex figure must be quite brave to make the trip. And survive, no less... ]

{ Uh huh… I guess we’ll see. }

Vex entered last, and following him was a figure completely unlike the rest. Nothing like anyone I’d encountered in my time on this planet. A tall, lumbering figure, almost as wide as the double-door entrance, and so tall they needed to duck to get inside. Their form was fully cloaked in a rugged, black clothes and thick, heavy gloves. Ghostly, incorporeal shadows weaved around their limbs, torso, and head. A threatening figure, surrounded by a cloud of darkness that moved with them as they followed Vex inside, standing ominously still while a single vermillion-colored eye peered back at me from the empty void of their hooded visage.

[ Oh… ] Red practically whispered the word, which made me even more nervous.

{ What kind of Ulterian is that…? }

[ That is not an Ulterian. And we should be quiet. ]

As if I wasn’t already scared…

Vex sat across from me in the center of one of the couches, the rest of his party gathered around him. All except for the gaudier henchman, of whom I’d silently decided to nickname Spike, who stood in a corner, leaning against the wall with crossed legs and arms.

Vex sat cross legged as well, perfectly still as they eyed me up and down. His gaze flickered back and forth between me and Pixul, but for the most part his attention was on me. I’d be lying if I said his examination, couple with the unsettling glances of his cohorts, were anything less than unnerving.

“So… is this the Camerian you spoke of?” Vex finally spoke up, eyes settled on Pixul. She looked almost as uncomfortable as I did. Perhaps due to the shadowy figure’s presence, or because of how less than impressed Vex seemed to be.

“Uh… yes. She’s the one that assembled the hildar. The one Xhen told me about?”

“Hm…” Vex groaned heavily, standing now as he approached me slowly but still keeping a healthy distance. His eyes roamed every inch of me from head to toe, which didn’t help at all in lowering the absolute creep-factor of this whole situation.

“It doesn’t look like a Camerian…”

…It?

“I think she’s half-Terran,” Pixul added, eyes blinking back and forth between me and the taller Vanossi. She looked visibly nervous now, and it wasn’t hard to read why.

“A mixed breed…” Vex’s face contorted into a look of disgust. He turned back to me now, waving me off with dismissal. As if rejecting some unwanted gift. A worthless… thing.

The more he talked, the angrier I felt myself getting.

“It is as useless to me in my endeavors as you Nuvassi folk. I thought you meant a purebred… perhaps if we can find the parent—”

“I built that bomb from scratch. I wasn’t so useless to you then. When I helped Xhen after they failed you.”

My sudden outburst caused the Vanossi leader to stop in the tracks, their head veering in my direction as their intense gaze pierced straight through me. He moved closer, his tall, lanky form leaning down so his eyes were at level with mine.

“If my intel is correct, Terran… Xhen failed in their mission because of you. Your… infernal curiosity led to the delay in my shipment. And now, what? You think yourself special? Important? No… you are here to correct a wrong. To pay the toll for your mistakes. And you will do so under my mandate.”

I met his eyes with just as much intensity, refusing to let myself seem weak and naïve again. Refusing to be taken advantage of.

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told your friend…” I leaned forward, sitting up as much as my shackles would allow, “I don’t work for anybody. You want my shit? You earn it. And you’re an even bigger idiot if you think I, or my ima for that matter, would work for a feeble Vanossi runaway like you.”

[ Oh my… ]

I watched as the glint of anger sparked in his eyes, his gaze hardened and narrowing as he pulled away, looming down at me with absolute disdain. “What is your name, Camerian?”

Pixul, now racked with anxiety after seeing the situation escalate to such a point, finally spoke up, “She goes by Mi—”

“I am Cira nu Aedonnoe,” I interrupted. There was no need to elaborate further on my heritage, judging from the utter shock that immediately flooded his features. My family name was one that clearly spoke for itself. Even many years after Urrali, the Aedonnoe legacy was still one of reverence and infamy. A legacy I had no problem using to intimidate my enemies.

But the intimidation didn’t last as long as I’d hoped, as the shock soon vanished form Vex’s face, replaced with the anger that was there once before.

“Well, I’d say… Pixul, while I find your use of the intoxicant quite novel, it is clearly temporary in its effects.” Vex folded his arms behind him, walking back to join sit amongst his cohorts. “I have something far more effective. Something more… permanent.”

He gestured to the massive entity shrouded in a cloud of blackness behind him. The figure moves forward, heavy feet stomping loudly against the cold floor as it inched closer and closer. I felt Red rumble violently against my chest in response, as if to signal the gravity of the situation. The danger I was in.

I tried to move my tsanista, shape them into some form of protection, or some way of escaping this but no matter how much I strained and pushed my powers, nothing happened. There was something blocking my influence. Some immense power building in pressure as the figure approached. It rang out heavily in my mind, and the louder it got, the more and more I felt my powers dissipating. I was losing control. I was losing my mind.

In one motion, the figure grabbed me harshly by my hoodie and ripped me away from the chair, hard enough that the shackles came with me. I could feel the cold metal bruise and scar my wrists, purple blood dripping down my forearm as I clawed helplessly at the black, muscled arm that grappled me. Within seconds, I was slammed against the table between me and Vex’s men with enough force to knock the air out of my lungs, to make me cry out as my body became racked with pain. The shadowed figure held me down in place, glaring at me with that single, unhidden vermillion eye. I could see the many spirals that circled its pupil. They twisted and spun as the figure continued forcing their way into my mind. The pressure became more immense, and I winced and cried even more in response. My thoughts, feelings, free will… all were being controlled. Suppressed. Erased.  

“I am not easily intimidated, Terran… especially with friends like mine.” He grinned, taking delight in watching me be consumed by the mind-bending shadows. “I’ll always consider an experienced Makalden hunter to be a far bigger threat than an Aedonnoe with an attitude.”

I grew weaker the harder I fought. I could feel my clawing cease, my arms going limp, my mind going numb. More numb than the Storm’s Tears left me. I felt… cold. Like nothing. Like no one.

The coolness lasted longer… until a warmth entered me. Not the warmth on my cheeks from the tears that fell. No… this was different. A warmth I remember feeling, not too long ago. It’s focused in one area, wrapped around my forearm, glowing and getting hotter, brighter, etching itself onto me like a bandaid. Like a tattoo.

Then Red’s voice entered my head.

[ Hello there. ]

Like a heavy door being shut, the Makalden is forced out, their dominion pushed away from my mind. I felt the pressure leave me, replaced with a different one. One less overbearing, less damaging, less scary. It was a barrier against that darkness, a shield against any form of intrusion.

It was Red saving my life all over again.

[ ⋖◈⋗] Now Processing… Second Band Received Firewall I Function Activated

#p: red

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 5 ⋮ Red // Chapter 3

August 15th, 2019. 1:15 AM. ♪ - i_o / Low

TW: drug use

Nuva… was way bigger than I imagined.

The city was made up almost entirely of massive skyscrapers, tall enough that you’d actually believe the very tips of them were piercing through the blackened night sky. Colors flashed from everywhere, neon traffic signs, buildings, and billboards lit up the entire metropolis. Flying vehicles, like the ones I saw in Zhu’dreck but more streamlined, filled the bustling streets and even went upwards, traffic wrapping around every level of every building. It was a city of the future. Far more advanced than I thought even Talur was. Nuva was...

“Fucking cool…” The words slipped from my lips, and I heard the woman let out a roaring laugh. She released my hand, gesturing up to the big, bustling city.

“Welcome to Gan’em!”

Welcome, indeed.

Before I could take in any more of the sights, the woman clapped and rubbed her hands together. “Well enough of all that… Taz, love, do you mind…?” She turned to her friend, gesturing to the both of us. The tall, silent android nodded once, moving over to take each of us in their arms and hoisting us away from the ground. They carried both of us to the edge of the roof, and before I could even protest, they lept.

“Nononono—ahhh!!!”

We freefell for what felt like thousands of feet. I held onto Taz, screeching at the top of my lungs the entire time. The woman, on the other hand, shouted a series of “woohoo’s” and “yeah’s” as if this were a roller coaster at Six Flags and not us jumping off of a fucking building.

As we got closer to the bottom, Taz suddenly began to slow, more and more until we were hovering less than an inch above the ground. Taz’s feet eventually met the ground, landing in the coolest pose ever before letting us go. I immediately pushed away, holding on to my knees while inhaling and exhaling deeply in an effort to collect myself. All the while, my new friend continued in her cheering before muttering a thanks.

She stands on the tips of her toes to peck Taz’s cheek, then moves over to check on me. “You alright there, love?”

“Y-yeah… I’m good, just… a little warning next time? Maybe?”

She only laughs, lifting me from my stance to link arms with me, leading us to the entrance. A big neon sign was hung over the wide metal doors, written in a script I hadn’t seen before. It looked like Talurian, though far more modernized, some characters almost geometric in shape. From where we stood, we could hear the blaring music coming from inside.

“Is… is this a club?”

The woman rolled her eyes, snorting as she turned her gaze on me, “What made it obvious?” Chuckling, she hooked her arm around mine and pulled me towards the entrance. “It’s my club, love.”

The doors swing open, and suddenly I’m engulfed in more neon colored lights than seen on the streets of Gan’em. The sprightly woman waved off security—also androids—as she guided me in. Pounding music vibrated through every inch of my body as we delved further and further past the entrance of the club and onto the dancefloor, filled with hundreds, maybe thousands of people. Looking up from where we stood, you could see levels upon levels of more people roaring and dancing and drinking along a plethora of balconies. And from the ceiling rain down a shimmering, silver dust, one that hands reached out for, coating it on their faces in an act of pure ecstasy. All while painted in flashing hues of blue, red, yellow, pink, purple.

Across the room opposite from us was a massive stage, complete with giant booming speakers and what looked like a DJ booth. Above it were giant holographic letters, of which I assumed spelled out the name of the club. Beneath it were more holograms, fireworks shooting out before revealing a name written in clear English lettering: PIXUL.

“Is that... your real name?”

The woman turned to me and shrugged, “It’s more of a stage name, really. But it’s what I go by primarily, yes. Best not to use your government in my line of business. Anyway… let’s go, shall we?”

Pixul led us away from the raving crowd and into a room near the back. It was spacious, each wall lined with soft, cushioned sofas. Taz plopped down on one seat, spreading out to take up a large section of the couch. I went and sat across from her, visibly less comfortable as I sat up straight with my legs still closed.

“So. Umm… you always this silent?”

“No.” Taz answered plainly.

I nodded. “Noted.”

Pixul walked over to the wet bar central of the room, pouring two drinks of a bright green color and bringing them over to me, holding one glass out. “Vondalli rum. Quite sweet. Ever tried it?”

“Um. No, thank you.” I waved the drink away, bowing my head slightly. She shrugged and downed her own glass, sitting the second one back on the counter as she leaned against it.

“So here’s the thing…” She moved in closer again, slowly beginning to pace around the room “After Xhen told me about their little ~situation~, I was… intrigued. Employing someone of gifted mechanical talent to build a new hildar bomb after the first, was… lost in cargo so to speak,” She casted a side eye my way before approaching me again, second glass in hand. “And for it to be a Camerian? In the flesh? I couldn’t believe my ears! I wanted to come meet you myself and offer you my thanks, which I’ve done. But that wouldn’t be nearly enough considering the significance of your good deed.”

She downed the rest of the drink and tossed the glass to the side. I only heard it shatter against the wall as my gaze remained locked with hers. She moved in, crouching in front of me, eyes never leaving mine and smile never fading. There was intent in her gaze. Whatever it was she wanted, she was serious about it.

“I have a proposition for you. One that would be very profitable for the both of us.” She sat on the table across from me, legs crossing and leaning in. “I have a few… connections. Ones that would be in need of someone with our expertise. Nuva is a booming technological capital, yes. Especially now after Urrali. But innovation has slowed since then as well. And there’s hardly any on our side of the coin. Most of the time we have to resort to stealing the tech we want… but not anymore, I say.”

Before Pixul could continue, they were interrupted by the entrance of what appeared to be one of the waiting staff. Dark skinned and white haired, cornrowed down to the side to hide one side of their face. They seemed timid as they walked in, simply collecting the used glasses and bending down to clean the glass shards near the wall. Pixul merely glanced at her then sighed, returning her attention to me once they left.

“So, here’s what I’m thinking: You’ll work for me as my personal producer of... certain goods." Her lips pulled slowly into a wily grin. "Of the technological variety, of course. I’ll acquire whatever resources you need, but beyond that you’re in control of everything else. You’ll build my tech, tech for my partners, or for whatever client has the right price. Mechs, vehicles, photomazers, netrunners, dead zone tech, whatever! We’ll make a fortune off your creations, then split the profits even.” She was grinning now, genuinely excited by her own plan. “So… is that a yes or a yes?”

Her words spun through my head like a record on repeat. The longer I considered the temptation building inside of me to accept such an offer, the more I realized all of it would be foolish. It was as if every part of my mind and body was warning me agaisnt trusting suspicious strangers. Not that Pixul and Taz weren't an entertaining pair, but I didn't know if I could trust them yet, let alone with whatever I would create for them. For all I knew, she could be manipulating me. Or worse, planning something awful. And I didn't know whether or not my own curiosity was worth all that.

"...What was the bomb used for?"

The question leapt past my lips too fast for me to stop myself. I watched as Pixul's cocksure grin grew even wider now, eyebrow quirked as if amused by my sudden curiosity.

"Friend of mine was having some... trouble with a rival gang. He made a request and offered me a price I'd be an idiot to refuse. While the delivery was... long," she huffed and rolled her eyes, "They were very happy with the results of their purchase."

"I see..." I responded, staring down at my lap as I pondered the answer, before looking up towards her again, "And can you promise to always be transparent about what my inventions will be used for?"

She let out a low, breathy chuckle, the smile now slowly inching smaller and smaller, "With all due respect, little one, I value the privacy of my clientele very much. I told you about the hildar out of respect for your boldness, and for our deal. But some people in this line of work don't take kindly to prying individuals. And I'd rather not compromise myself."

I see...

I was starting to think Red was right. Coming here was a bad plan.

“I’m sorry,” I stated plainly, shaking my head. “But I can't in good conscience work with someone I only just met.”

"You worked with Xhen," she shot back quickly. "And whatever it was they offered you in return? It isn't worth half the earnings we'd make together. I'm throwing a fortune at you, love. You'd be stupid not to take it."

"Xhen was a friend. And what I did for them was out of kindness. It was a favor, one of which you and your friend clearly profited off of. I know you may think that my loyalty to Xhen somehow extends to you by way of association, but it doesn't. I'd rather work with someone whose motivations for me are as clear as day."

Her eyes widened, any warmth that had previously been there vacated from her expression, “I understand you may take issue with my level of discretion, but you should know that—”

“Sorry. You’ll have to find someone else for this.”

I could tell Pixul didn’t like that answer, because her wide grin had completely faded, replaced with tightly pursed lips and a twitch of her eye. I braced myself for whatever violent outburst they may have, fists balling up in my lap as Red rumbled against my wrist.

But no attack came. Instead…

“Huh.” She breathed the word out sharply. Suddenly her smile returned as she stood up, holding out her hand towards me. “That doesn’t mean we can’t still have a good time, right?”

I stared at the outstretched hand, confused even more now by her response. “I… uhh….”

“Let’s party~, enjoy the club! I did say I wanted to thank you remember?”

She grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the seat and leading me out the door. Taz’s green eyes latched onto me, watching us leave with a slight twitch at the corner of their mouth.

We were nearing the dancefloor now, fighting our way through a crowd of frenzied clubbers. Somehow, we made our way to the center unscathed. Pixul never let go of me, afraid I’ll get lost in the crowd no doubt. But I didn’t mind. She did say she just wanted to have fun. And she looked genuine about it, fingers locking with mine as she raised our arms in the air, waving them around as she jumped and swayed and dance in the rave all while urging me on to join her. I was still hesitant, stiff in my response. But as the music got louder, and the crowd got wilder, and Pixul’s smile stretched further, it became harder and harder to resist. A small smile graced my lips, and soon enough I was moving along to the music too. I jumped and laughed alongside my fellow partiers. With every second, every minute that passed with us on the dancefloor, my night become a lot less dull.

Yet somehow, I was starting to feel like there was something very wrong with all of this. The look on Taz's face as we exited the room. The sudden shift in Pixul's mood. The way I was forcefully dragged onto this chaotic dancefloor. But that rising suspicion is somehow truncated by the pulsating beat in my bones, the raucous crowd of dancers cheering for more, by the twinkling stardust falling on my head. I ignored my better judgement. I silenced it.

Something I would later come to regret.

The falling silver dust continued its descent. A light amount of it had collected in my hair, but not much. Most was being caught in the hands of the other dancers around me, smearing it along their faces. I had no intention of doing so, merely assuming the raining confetti was just some sort of artistic touch, some cultural norm amongst the club life of Nuva.

But looking in front of me, I saw Pixul with her hand up, a mound of the dust collected in her palm. Her intense gaze and vicious smirk returned as she locked her eyes with mine. My smile was fading in response. But I couldn’t react fast enough. I couldn’t pull away once she blew that shimmering dust into my face.

Then, it was like the whole room shifted.

More than just shifting… it was spinning.

The flashing colors seemed more vibrant than normal. The pounding music even louder, vibrating through every bone in my body. Things went from seeming further away to way too close in rapid fluctuation. And the smile on my face that once faded had returned, wider than ever.

I couldn’t stop from smiling, or laughing, or hanging on to Pixul, who was doing the same. I could hear, feel, smell, see everything in that moment. Every color and wave and aura hidden in the universe made itself known to me as I continued leaping and dancing across a technicolored floor. My head was full of whatever stars were made of.

And it felt so, so, so, SO good.

“I LOVE THIS!!” I shouted. Or at least, it felt like I was shouting. Everything around me was so loud that I couldn’t tell if I was speaking over the crowd or simply matching in intensity. Pixul merely laughed, hands gripping mine tight as if I’d float away. Maybe I was floating away. Maybe she’d float with me, high into the glittering haze that rained from above, reaching into that light for just another taste of mind-numbing, soul-shattering euphoria.

[ Oh my god. You’re high. ]

“I’m high on LIFE, Red!! Dance with uuusssss!!!!!”

[ I cannot dance. ]

“That’s because you don’t belieeeeeve!!!”

[ ……We need to get out of here. ]

“BELIEEEEVE~ IIIINNN THE POSSIBILITIEEEESSS~!”

Singing. Laughing. Shouting. They were the only actions I was capable of at that moment. Dancing felt to good. Yelling, running, flailing about all felt too good to stop. I somehow found my way out of Pixul’s grasp, to her own dismay judging from the exasperated look on her face. I made maybe five new friends in that time, also dedicated to pursuit of endless hedonism. I ran back and forth between the dancefloor and the bar to down shots of Vondalli rum (which was indeed quite sweet), flying from balcony to balcony the greet every single clubber I could. I loved their faces. I loved their smiles. I wanted to see every single one before I had to eventually leave. The thought of being separated filled me with instant dread, enough to send me flying through the sparkling rain once more, keeping my high going for as long as possible.

The second my feet were on the ground was when Pixul grappled me from behind, dragging me back into the VIP area. I giggled the entire time, waving goodbye to my 1,346 new friends. I’m still waving even once I was back in the room and on the couch with the door closed.

“Goodbyeeee! Hehe… goodbyeeee~.”

“Alright.” Pixul breathed a heavy sigh, dusting her hands off on her pants before sitting across from me once more. “Let’s try this again, shall we? Now that you’re more… agreeable.”

“Yeah yeah yeah~, let’s try this agaaaaain~!” I laughed, leaning back into the cushiony seat. Pixul sat me up again, cupping my cheeks as I continued to hiccup and giggle.

[ Miu. Whatever they ask… Say no. ]

“Look, Miu… I’m not a bad person. I promise. I was raised by bad people, yes. I do some bad things to get what I want sometimes, it’s true. But I can assure you that your inventions will not be used for harm nor evil. I’m a simple girl who wants to make a simple living… will you allow me that, little Terran? Will you join me as my business partner? Pretty please?” Pixul asked with a tilt of her head and a batting of her eyes, bottom lip tutting forward in a pout.

I’ll admit, they’re speech was moving. And with my face covered in this magical glitter, it was difficult to say no to… anything. It was like I was under some sort of spell, where anything stressful, anything unhappy, was locked away and replaced with elation. With dreamy rapture. With an amiable nature that was not present previously.

I couldn’t say no…

[ Miu… no. ]

I nodded, “Ummmm okay~!” I giggled lightly, and her smile returned again. I was happy. I was happy that she was happy. A feeling I couldn’t repress even if I wanted to.

“Excellent! Taz—” She called for her silent friend, who suddenly became alert, standing up as soon as their name was called. “Go tell Vex I found someone. Though their services might need a bit of...management." Her eyes flickered towards me momentarily, then back to Taz. "And in case she forgets—”

“I need to go to the baaathroooom!!” I yelled. They both shot a look towards me. I continued sitting there with a smile.

“I gotta pee.”

Pixul rolled her eyes, “Show her to the restrooms as well, please.”

Sighing, she yanked me up from my seat and heaved me towards Taz, who tenderly held my hand in theirs.

“Don’t let go of them. They’ll start floating off like a fucking balloon if you do…”

Taz only nodded and began leaving the room with me in tow. We moved past the busy dancefloor, of which I fought hard to get back to, to no avail. We turned a few corners, walked down a couple hallways, until we made it to the bathrooms.

“Do not take long.” Taz stated, the tone of their voice incredibly serious, which made them even more intimidated than the now irritated Pixul. I nodded vigorously, until Taz released me, walking off as I stepped inside.

The restrooms were quite similar to the ones on Earth, so it didn’t take long to find my way around. They were a lot fancier, however. Each stall was like its own private quarters, complete with every needed appliance. I could make out what was a toilet and a sink fairly easily thanks to my powers of technological intuition. I did, however, end up spending far too much time in there, distracted by the way the water came out of the sink. The faucet was suspended in the air just above the sink’s bowl. The water sprinkled out in a such a way that it displayed a spiral pattern. Entranced, I stood there with my hands underneath the running water for much longer than intended, ooh-ing and aah-ing I every falling water drop.

My hypnosis is only broken when I hear someone enter the restroom. Curiosity wins over, and I finally pull my hands away from the running water to peak outside my stall.

It was the waiting staff from earlier. The one cleaning Pixul’s mess of broken glass.

Noises were escaping them. Were they… crying?

Finally, I exited the stall, wiping my damp hands on my sweatpants because I couldn’t be bothered to use the towel right next to me. Thanks to my euphoric state, which has done away with any inhibitions I may have had, I approached the crying staff member, patting them on the back.

“There, there. No need for all that, okay?” I managed a smile, beaming down at them in hopes the brightness of my personality could somehow bring a smile to their face too.

Instead, they were startled, jumping away from me the moment they heard my voice. It was only now that I got a better look at them. They were quite pretty, the large braids of their hair still hiding one side of their face, though the style was quite nice. Despite their less-than-showy staff uniform, something about their features and mannerisms, the way they stood with their back perfectly straight and even the way they dried their hands on the towel next to them before neatly folding it back, was quite elegant. Their eyes and hair were as white as my mom’s, as white as the many highly esteemed nobles passing by Kalar that I’d seen in my dreams. Their voice was quite light too, feminine and soft like the rest of their features.

“Somandeni! Ava eshlareme… um…”

Camerata…

They paused, shaking their head. “You’re Pixul’s associate, correct? Please don’t tell her about this… I promise not to slack off any longer than I have.”

As they went to quickly wipe the tears from their face, I could see what was hidden by their hair: scars. Deep scars. Ones in elaborate patterns that covered that entire portion of their face and trailed down the side of their neck, disappearing under their uniform. Their right eye was blinded as well.

[ Oh… ] Red suddenly chimed in.

{ “Oh” what? } I responded.

[ I know this person. ]

“You know them?” I whispered out loud. Suddenly the staff member was watching me again, no doubt confused by my outward musings. But to my surprise, they weren’t staring at me. They were staring at the tsanista around my neck.

“Where did you get this?” They asked, almost as quietly as me, yet with far more urgency in their voice. They rushed over, closing the gap between us, as they clutched Red firmly in their palm. “Who gave you this?”

“Ummm, whoaaa, I don’t really know you? Sooo…” I gently tried to pry Red from their fingers, but they remained persistent.

“Please. I just need to know if… if…” Their voice trailed off.

There was a sorrow in their stare. Suddenly I felt bad. Really bad. I didn’t remember this person from any dream I had. But Red knew them. That was enough reason to trust them… right?

“My mom gave it to me.” I said finally.

“Your mother…” They stumbled a bit, as if the very notion of a Camerian surviving Urrali was enough to knock them prone. I reached out immediately, holding them steady by their shoulders.

“Are you okay…?” I asked softly. Their response was silence, merely nodding and holding onto my arms for support.

“Your mother… if I could have a name…?” They looked up at me now, the eyes staring into mine practically pleading for answers. “Perhaps I knew them during my time in the courts… I know it’s personal, but if you could do me this courtesy, I would greatly appreciate it… it’d be nice to know if someone I cared has made a better life for themselves.”

They smiled at me, reaching out to gently brush a stray hair away from my sweaty, glitter covered face. “And clearly they have, to have made such a beautiful child.”

I was at a loss for words. Unsure of what the right thing is. Unsure if honesty would put me in danger. Or my family. It was hard to tell who I could trust these days. Even if that person is a soft, kind-hearted waiting staff, just searching for a glimmer of hope.

[ Tell them, Miu. ] Red urged me softly. Sorrow tinged their voice as well.

All of this was starting to feel like a sad reunion.

“Umm, well… her name is Julia these days? But before that, it was, I think… Rael.”

There is a silence that overcomes us, one that is terribly deafening. The hand the caressed my cheek remained frozen in place. I watched the phases of grief in which her gaze, her touch, her body language pass through. Softness turned to tension. Tension turned to trembling. Trembling turned to tears.

“Rael… is alive?”

Tears turn to sobbing. To wailing. To falling to their knees, hiding their tear-covered face in their hands.

I could only stare down at them, wide eyed and worried as I bit my lip. I wanted to say something comforting, something hopeful. But before an “I’m sorry” could so much as pass my lips, Taz had returned, looking more than irritated with me.

“Too. Long.”

They grabbed me roughly by my wrist, only glancing at the crying figure on the ground. And with a huff, they began dragging me out, my eyes still locked on the staff member as they bawled and shivered.

[ Iannis… ]

I watched as they disappeared from view, the restroom door swinging shut as I’m escorted back to the VIP area. Suddenly, everything around me moved slow. Colors felt dimmer. The room felt colder. The music less intoxicating.

Suddenly, the party was less fun.

6:10 AM JST. I was back on Earth, and standing right outside of my home. The sun was beginning to rise.

“See? Had you back just in time, like I promised.” Pixul chimed proudly, even patting herself on the back in glee.

I simply nodded slowly, a dezed look on my face. Everything, from sounds to visuals to the words coming out of their mouths, still came at me through a hazy fog. The glimmering powder was losing its effect, albeit quite slowly. Pixul and Taz merely looked at each other and shrugged in response.

“Well! Pleasure doing business with you, love. Oh! And one more thing..." She leaned in, her expression suddenly turning stern, "Don't. Leave. The house. M'kay?” She patted me on the shoulder before backing away next to her companion. I only nodded again, practically unresponsive to anything else she had to say.

“See you in… I dunno… about a month? We’ll talk business more.” And with that, Pixul gave a smile and a wave, Taz a salute, and they transported themselves away from my home. Away from me.

For a while, anyway.

Sluggishly, I dragged myself to the entrance of my home, unlocking the door and stepping inside. I slid out of my shoes and slowly made my way back to the couch, plopping down with a loud sigh.

Almost immediately, I heard the pattering footsteps of my dogs rushing to join me at my side, with Samus hopping up on the couch to nose me in my side and Link sitting his paws up on my lap. I smiled down at him, as wide a smile as I could manage.

“Where have you been?” Link asked. “We’ve been so worried!”

“You don’t wanna know buddy…” I answered back groggily. “You really don’t wanna know…”

“You ought to get some rest!” Link added.

I nodded at his suggestion. “Yeah… you’re probably right… you’re so wise, Linky~.”

I looked to Samus to see if she had anything to say. But the only noise she was capable of producing was the sound of a grown man screaming profanities.

I felt my weariness slowly begin to take over, and suddenly i could hardly bare to sit upright any longer. I sighed, laying my head on the pillow next to me and stretching my legs out along the couch. The moment my eyes fell shut, I fell into a slumber deeper than one I'd ever had.

Note to self: Do not trust aliens on rooftops. Ever.

#p: red

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 5 ⋮ Red // Chapter 2

August 15th, 2019. 12:26 AM. ♪ - Bear McCreary / Lullaby of the Giants (Part 1) | LudoWic / Delusive Bunker (Part 2)

TW: mentions of violence, blood, abuse

1951 PCE. 22nd hour of Sandis Kormav. Kalar had spent the entire day accompanying the Grand Minister at the monthly Ministry Congregation.

These things were always a bore. Or at least, Kalar could hardly stand them.

They barely understood how ima Malvas could feel at ease being surrounded by so many insipid sycophants without going insane themselves. But it was duty, after all. A Grand Minister must always be present, even at personal expense. Kalar only wished they didn’t have to be dragged along to every single one. Yet despite their best pleas, the obligation was always forced upon them.

And it would be stupid—no, exceedingly risky—to go against Malvas.

Their ima had a penchant for cruel lessons, believing strength was something born from adversity. Whether or not Kalar enjoyed the Congregations, exposure made them a better leader. They paid close attention, took notes in case of one of their ima’s surprise interrogations on the matters discussed. They were taught to recite Essan laws, both the old and the new, on a constant and relentless basis. They learned politics through experience, through observation, through restless and unceasing action.

Kalar’s tsanagar training fell along a similar vein of overexertion, albeit more physically taxing. Hours upon hours, from the rise of Umer and Amur to their eventual set, is how long they spent training, sparring, and honing their skills. On luckier days, Kalar was simply left feeling exhausted. Other days, however, were not as kind. They could recount the many times they were pushed too hard, bleeding from their nose and ears. Some practice spars left them bruised from head to toe, winded and crawling on all fours. Knuckles and palms were left battered and bloodied as well, their hands often stained with the violet liquid that left their weary form. And Malvas, the ever efficient, tireless mentor, always made sure to remind them that all the pain they endured could be avoided if they were better.

And Kalar adhered to these lessons. Not only because they wanted to improve, but because they knew petulant deviance would never be tolerated. Because their ima’s punishments for such insubordination would be far more severe.

And yet… they preferred all of that to this. At least their training gave them something to do, to focus their energy towards. Something to scratch the itch of their restless nature, rather than being forced into meetings that almost seemed endless. Sitting and listening silently as they discussed their far too drawn-out plans for repressing the southern rebellions. Hadn’t they figured this out already? The solution they sought after seemed simple enough, but Kalar supposed the hesitance to upset Minister Mhidorrni was a hindrance to any further action. Even Malvas’ guidance wasn’t enough to settle the constant debate.

Over time, even I was beginning to grow tiresome…

The best part of Congregations, at least, were the gatherings that were held afterwards. Not because of the food or the mingling, but because it always gave Kalar a chance to escape the madness, unseen and unnoticed on luckier occasions. However today, their retreat had been halted by none other than their favorite thorn in their side: Umvis nu Soomani. Their ima Semda was a member of Malvas’ advisory. The busybody was constantly trying to play matchmaker for the two childhood friends, to Kalar’s dissatisfaction. And what’s worse, Semda trailed closely beside their child today.

Yet another annoyance.

“Kalar! My word, child, you’ve, ah… grown so much!” Semda exclaimed with the most ingenuine smile Kalar had ever seen. They were used to such… attitudes about their height. Snide remarks and jabs behind their back were a common occurrence, as were the less than subtle comments made to their face. Semda’s forced flattery was no different.

The corner of their mouth twitched into a half-smile. “Thank you,” Kalar responded to the compliment, silently hoping that this would be the beginning and end of their conversation. It wasn’t, of course.

“A-and your bands!! By Aedon’s light, you are truly singular. 15 bands… and all before your 20th Sanadir! Grand Minister Malvas must be so proud.”

A common compliment these days. Kalar almost wanted to roll their eyes at the sudden praise but restrained themselves, merely managing a gentle smile and nod. It’s not that Kalar hated their bands, or me for that matter. Quite the opposite, in fact. What they did hate was how often people valued bands more than the people wearing them. And they never cared about the agony it took to obtain them. Only the power they represented.

But I suppose that’s how it was always meant to be, at least among the Camerian elite. In time, Kalar would become just as dispassionate, and just as fixated on symbols of power. A lesson so deeply engrained in Essan society that it is not easily avoided or unlearned.

Their conversation, one made up of Semda’s ramblings and Kalar’s brief and sometimes wordless responses, was quickly interrupted once the advisor became distracted by the vast assortment of foods in the main hall. Now Kalar was left alone with Umvis, who spent the entire time regarding them carefully with a coy grin.

“Leave me,” Kalar stated plainly, speaking honestly for the first time today.

“And where are you headed to, Minister-to-be?” Umvis grinned, slowly closing the gap between the two, to which Kalar responded with a small but firm shove.

“To the temple… don’t tell Malvas.” There is a sternness to their voice, one used to mask a desperate plea. They locked their steely gaze with the advisor’s child as a sign of how serious they were. Kalar wanted to leave. The people and attention and chatting were all becoming far too suffocating for them to stand any longer. They wanted to go where they felt safest, the most at ease. And it wasn’t here, nor would it ever be.

Umvis raised both hands in defeat, “You have my word, love.” They smiled up at Kalar, more warmth in their expression this time. Kalar simply nodded in response before making their escaping, surreptitiously guiding themselves away from the rest of the Ministry. Umvis merely watched as they exited it. Even I could feel their gentle gaze on us as Kalar left.

The trip to the temple was not a long one. Most corridors in the Essan capital were met with transporters at either end. They were quite simple to use. One must simply select their destination and enter through the glowing barrier, and in an instant they’d arrive at the desired location. Kalar transported themselves to the first floor of the eastern wing, and after several minutes of walking later would reach the outer wall of the sanctum, located in the courtyards.

In its center stood Roshaal, the last existing temple of Vasniar.

It was an ancient faith, Kalar knew this. There had been many more temples in the past, but most were either destroyed or desecrated during the Camerian Expansion, and many abandoned the faith. The one in Essa’s capital was kept in pristine condition, not because Camerians were terribly religious. In fact, most viewed religion as incompatible with their firm adherence to logic and pragmatism. More than anything, it stood as a symbol of respect to the old cultures, the ones mowed over by the Empire. A celebration of their ancestors.

Kalar would later come to view it as a symbol of mourning.

They traversed slowly through the courtyard, basking in the warm glow of Umer and Amur as sunlight danced across their skin, tall grasses and petaled flowers brushing against their ankles. Entering the gates of the sanctum felt like a stark contrast to the rest of the capital. Inside these walls of cool metal and refined modern architecture was a small, untouched world made of natural splendor. The quiet rustling of shrubbery, the tranquil sound of singing weavers as they flew past, stone and bricks with moss emerging from the cracks. A world before inventions and politics. Before empires and rebellions and strife.

A world untouched. A world without Dissenters.

The doors were mechanical in nature, making the temple accessible only to Camerians. Kalar pushed through them with ease, taking in the sight of the temple. Most of the walls were made of crystal, the light from the sunroof glistening against translucent hues of purple and white swirled together with tinges of light blue. Inside the walls were elaborate carvings, many depicting the history of the Vasniar faith, of its legends and myths. Stories of the creation of the world, of Ulteria, and of the mortals that inhabited the harsh and abandoned lands of this planet. Of Umer, Amur, and their children, the moons. Of Aedon.

Stories of the first Dissenters. Stories of the shards they wielded.

The shards…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

Kalar still made their way towards the massive mural at the other end of the temple, albeit slowly in order to take in the sights they never got tired of. They approached a figure sitting before it, legs crossed and hands resting on their knees. They mumbled a soft mantra to themselves. One that Kalar had heard time and time again in their visits here. One that remained burned into their memory no matter how hard they tried to purge it.

“Ascension… Corruption… Dissent…” the figure repeated, “Do not become attached to the things of this world, for there are many more.”

“The Ascended’s light still shines on this world,” Kalar added, crouching down to join the praying figure at their side, a subtle smile gracing their features. A rare display from the typically aloof Kalar. The figure met their gaze with an even lighter expression, and Kalar swore they felt the coolness inside them melt away.

Salas always seemed to have this effect on Kalar, instantly and without fail. No one else knew their heart like Salas did. No one owned their trust in the same way either.

“Ima…” Kalar frowned, gently clasping their hand over Salas’. “You missed the Congregation again… I know you are not required to attend, but ima Malvas has grown worried. You spend so much time here.”

Salas’ smile disappears as well, and they turn their attention back to the mural before them. “Is it better to feel closer to the light than to have your feet on the ground?” they asked plainly, “Even if it burns me… I desire its touch too intensely to ignore…”

“For that is the way to Ascension.” Kalar finished the phrase with a sigh. Salas was repeating themselves now. As if stuck in a loop, only able to quote old myths and nothing more. They were drifting away, a direction Kalar couldn’t help but abhor.

Kalar simply studied their ima’s face in silence now. They differed drastically in appearance compared to Malvas, of whom Kalar carried much of their physical characteristics. The only one inherited from Salas was their towering stature. But their amber skin, thick hair kept in intricate braids, even their eyes so glazed over with white you could just barely see their irises… none of those traits manifested themselves in Kalar. And, oh, how they wished they did look like Salas. To carry the traits of someone they looked up to, someone who protected them, who… loved them. Genuinely. There is something about Malvas’ form of love that wasn’t comforting. Their love was painful, grueling, and often unwarranted. Kalar hated seeing how much of Malvas existed in them, both inside and out.

But Kalar would tell themselves it was better to be treated as a child of Malvas, one of a noble and upstanding heritage, than that of an outsider. An alien. That’s how the Essans viewed their ima. But Salas was only alien to these lands.

Aedonnoe was not their family name, no. Only adopted in their marriage to Malvas. But Salas was of Ulterian blood, Camerian blood in part too. However, they originally hailed from the city of Gan’em in Nuva’s capital. Salas was—[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

They sat in silence, the two of them. Kalar listened closely to the chants muttered by their ima, resting their head against their shoulder as eyes fluttered shut, mouthing the words silently to themselves. This peace, this safety, is only interrupted by the sound of the massive doors pulling open, heavy footsteps pounding their way towards the two of them. Towards Kalar.

Kalar opens their eyes again, a tear trickling its way down, as they continued in Salas’ prayer. But Salas themselves has stopped, instead turning their gentle gaze and kind smile back on their child’s, whose eyes move to meet theirs.

Kalar does not want to leave. But Salas cannot protect them anymore. Or rather, they have chosen not to.

“May Umer guide you, child.”

It’s hard for Kalar to not feel the sting of betrayal once they are yanked from the ground by Malvas’ sturdy grip. They leaned near Salas’ ear to utter yet another threat to send them back to the slums of Vonda, then Kalar is carted off by their neck. Out of the temple. Away from Salas. Away from the love and protection that seemed to pass too soon, that always seemed temporary.

Because that is the lesson. You must let go of those attachments. You must watch them fade away as if they never existed. As if they were meaningless. You must, with all your fervor, look upon the thing you love…

And then destroy it.

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

1963 PCE. 14th hour of Sandis Vaers. Salas nu Aedonnoe has died.

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

Do not become attached to the things of this world…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

For there are many more.

The Godfather Part III. A classic.

It’s also super boring, if you ask me.

Granted, it wasn't the type of film I would typically watch. No aliens or robots, no traveling through time and space, no battles with giant spaceships that were terribly impractical in both size and efficiency. Just an “engaging” drama about... I honestly don't know, I stopped paying attention about half an hour ago. All I knew was that it wasn’t at all in the realm of my usual interests.

Maybe I’d enjoy it more if I’d watch the first two films, but I felt like my dislike for it went further than that. It was just so… dull. But I guess I couldn’t blame the movie for that.

Everything in my life felt dull after April 13th.

I've only used my new power once since then. Stuck in my head after another confusing dream while trying to chop vegetables and tofu for that night’s ramen dinner, ended up slicing my thumb in the process. I remember staring at the bleeding finger for far too long, watching as the dark violet blood puckered and spilled from the wound. Staring as if I was numb to the pain of it. Then, with a little concentration, I felt warmth dance around the injured skin, and watched as it slowly mended itself. After washing away the blood, I could see that the skin was smooth, as if there was never a cut to begin with.

I could heal myself. Maybe others if I wanted. And in time I would get even stronger.

That sort of power seemed scary, but I wasn't afraid of my tsanista or the power it held, power I would soon wield. It was quite the opposite, actually. I was obsessed. I bothered Red for weeks after it happened. I wanted to know everything. About the bands, the abilities and their tiers, Kalar's bands, how long it took to get them, how long it would take me. Which, according to them, would be whenever I was "deemed ready."

I’m way too impatient to heed that lesson.

And yet despite all of this, despite the excitement bubbling inside me from this newfound power and knowledge, that dread came slowly creeping back. The dread that I would have to continue in the lie.

There are still so many people in my life, people that I love, that I trust, that don't know the truth about me. And so long as I am afraid of sharing that truth, afraid of their reactions, their judgement, their fear or hatred of me, they'll never know. And even if they didn't hate what I am, then surely they'll hate me for keeping it from them for so long, right…? It wasn't worth the risk.

Or maybe it was. But I'm too chickenshit to ever try, so. Here we are.

I still have no idea what The Godfather is about. And I'm starting to get hungry.

"Conbini run it is," I grumbled out with a sigh, stretching my limbs before rising from my spot on the couch. My dogs were sleeping soundly on the other side, Link settled snugly against the couch's arm with Samus splayed out beside him. I turned off the TV and made my way to the door as quietly as possible. Carefully, I slid into my sneakers and out the entrance, before slinking down the quiet midnight streets of Shinjuku.

“So will I be like… a real-life Magneto in a couple of years?”

If Red could sigh right now, they would. I couldn’t blame them for being annoyed. I’d asked a thousand questions like this for months, and it’d only be worse now considering the setting. I hated walking alone at night. Having their voice in my head sort of aided in burying that fear. A useful distraction. A reminder I wasn’t all alone.

 [ I am… unfamiliar with this… Magneto… but yes. Manipulation of magnetic forces will be one of your capabilities… in due time. ]

“Sick.”

[ Indeed… ]

“And when is ‘due time’ exactly?”

[ When I deem you ready. ]

Now I was sighing.

“That’s not an answeerrr!” I whined, throwing my head back. “I wanna do stuff, like… now. I’ve never felt more ready for anything in my entire life!”

[ Well, you are definitely not, so I do not know what answer you are expecting of me. ]

“A rigid, actual, set-in-stone date maybe? Something I can look forward to.”

[ These things are never set in stone. Every tsanagar’s progression is different. And it is up to me to decide the speed of that progression. As it stands now, you are not ready. ]

I groaned, and with another roll of my eyes I rounded the corner towards the conbini, finally arriving after maybe several more minutes of pestering Red. We didn’t stay long. I only grabbed my usual snacks: nori, some chips, ice cream, other junk foods. I greeted the store clerk, payed for my items, and left faster than I came, hurrying back in the direction of my home.

Like I said… I don’t like being out alone much these days.

Now, perhaps my favorite in my growing arsenal of abilities was my power to sense things. Not, like, a spidey-sense or anything. I could detect the presence of anything producing electrical impulses. That included living things, as we generate electrical fields whenever we move. Some are fainter than others. Some are strong and overbearing, like Xhen’s. But over time, you start to notice that everyone “feels” unique in a way, and some become familiar the more you’re exposed to them. They were like auras. Some can instantly fill me with happiness or warmth… or just make me feel safe.

And some could trigger fear. Stronger ones. Foreign ones…

Like the ones near my home.

I was frozen in place. Trembling. The silence of the night became deafening. My eyes were fixated on the roof of my home. It was strong like Xhen’s, but it wasn’t Xhen. I knew Xhen. This was different. And it was bigger. There had to be more than one.

“Red…” Their name came out like a broken whimper. The sound of someone small. Someone scared.

[ You are far stronger now than you were then. Whatever the threat is, we will handle it. ]

I nodded, a tiny one, and wrapped my hand around Red with an iron grip. None of it helped the fear to dissipate at all, but I wouldn’t just stand here either. Red was right, I have gotten stronger. I’ve gotten better. And whatever the threat was, I knew that I—that we—could handle it.

I pulled Red from around my neck and started to stretch and expand them into… something. A weapon of any kind. A staff, maybe? A bat? That was probably better. I at least knew how to use that. I could fly up, hopefully catch them off guard and start swinging. It’ll work if they aren’t well-trained like Xhen was. If not, I could always send a folly of electricity straight at their—

“Aaah! There you are, what are you doing down there? Heeyy~! Hey you!! Up here!”

The figure yelled down from my roof, waving for my attention. I looked up in their direction, squinting my eyes with an utterly perplexed expression.

“They’re… friendly?” I mumbled.

[ It would appear so… and they’ve been waiting for you… ]

Shoving my confusion aside, I fly up to join my unknown visitor, not knowing what to expect or how to react. Could this be a trick? Another way of catching me off my guard? I wouldn’t know why, of course. I haven’t stolen anything. Haven’t been in contact with anyone from my last trip to space. I didn’t have the slightest clue what they could want. But regardless, I was ready.

I landed on the roof, staring back at my visitors with an intense look. There were two of them, just as I suspected. Both not human, one of them not even organic. They were an android of some kind, with jet black clothes and hair, bone straight with one side shaved down. The signals they gave off were far stronger than anything I’d felt from a living thing. They were alive, yes, but more in the same way Red was alive. The other, however, reminded me more of Xhen. And my grip around the bat tightened as I readied myself for another potential encounter.

“You look tense! Relax, love. ‘We come in peace’ or whatever.” One of the strangers chuckled softly, their voice light and sweet, nearly as high as my own. They stepped closer, approaching me slowly with their hands raised and a smile gracing their lips. It was only now that I could get a better look at them.

And they were… adorable?

Reallyadorable.

Her face was a perfect heart shape. Perfect violet triangles decorated each of her soft cheeks, quite different from any other Talurian markings I’d seen. Thick white hair was kept in two neat puffs, fading to a bright blue at the ends. Her makeup matched, lips a glossy neon blue and eyeshadow shimmering as if decorated with the stars themselves. Everything about her, from appearance to personality, was absolutely vibrant. And the way the moonlight illuminated brilliantly off her dark skin only added to the splendor.

“Xhen did say you were a nervous one. Huh…” the stranger stated, breaking the silence. I could hear her friend, the android, huffing out a small laugh behind her.

I lowered my defenses, eyeing her up and down. I contracted Red from their bludgeon form, turning them instead into a small bracelet around my wrist.

“You know Xhen…?” I asked plainly.

“Of course! Xhen is a close associate of mine. Gave me your location too.” She held up her transporting device, similar to the one Xhen had. There were coordinates written in blocky Talurian script already punched in. “Told them I wanted to meet the little technomancer that built my bomb.”

Oh… wait a minute.

“That… that was your bomb? You’re Xhen’s mystery client?!” My voice was raised now, tension making its way back into my muscles.

“Do calm down, love. And yes, though I’m not much of a mystery. Xhen has taken up several contracts for me in the past. But enough, we can touch on all of that later.” She rushes over to place both her hands on my shoulders. “I came here to thank you. And offer you a gift! A celebration of sorts, for all your hard work. And possibly… more in the future?” she stated with a raised brow, grin widening into a chesire cat-like manner.

“W-wait—” I stepped back, pushing her arms off as I waved my hands, “I’m not for hire or anyth—”

“Don’t worry about it! We’ll talk business later. For now, let’s just focus on the fun, alright?”

She stepped away, moving closer to her partner as she began rapidly dialing numbers into the transporter. To say I was lost for words would be an understatement. I stood there, dumbfounded and confused by the whole interaction, and not sure where any of this was leading. They were impressed with the hildar, enough that they wanted me to make something else for them. But what? I wasn’t in the business of building weapons. Never would be. And where we were supposedly headed still remained a mystery to me. Much like literally everything else about them.

“I-I can’t... I can’t just leave—"

She raised a brow at me “Oh? We’ll have you back before the sun rises here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“N-no, I just—”

“Have you ever been to Nuva, little Terran?”

Nuva…

The name struck clear in my memory. But I don’t remember anyone ever telling me of it, or even hearing it. Perhaps it was in one of my dreams? It had to be. Everything I knew about Ulteria came from them. And currently, my only information on Nuva was that it was a massive trading hub. And that Kalar had… a connection there… a relative?

I also knew that it was the Ulterian capital for organized crime.

[ I do not like this. ] Red suddenly chimed in. They sounded more on guard than I was now, my defenses broken through so easily by the woman’s charm.

“I…umm…” I stammered back, unsure of what my next move should be. Was it better to accept? Or run? I didn’t know how’d they’d react to a rejection. I didn’t know anything about them at all, which made all of this so dangerous. But a small part of me, eating away at the back of my mind, wanted to fuel my curious nature. I wanted to know more, about myself, my dreams, what they meant. If any of the recent events of my life meant anything at all. That burning desire to… just go back. I’d buried it way back when I slammed to Earth.

And now it’s dug its way back up.

She approached me again, hand raised and held out towards me. Her companion grinned, almost as wide as she was. “We’ll give you all the answers you seek. Just… say yes?”

I stared at that hand a little longer than I should. Probably longer than she would have liked. Most definitely longer than Red would have liked. And I stood there, at war with myself, with deciding between what I thought was right and what I wanted to do. And one side was winning over.

I took her hand. She smirked, lifting the transporter from her belt and pressing the button on its head.

In an instant, it’s as if the forces of the universe surged around us. It enters me, swelling inside every cell and flooding outward. It was like being pulled apart and pushed back together again. Not even a second after activating it, the overwhelming sensation dissipated. We were on a different roof now. One taller, made of metal rather than concrete. One surrounded by flashing neon lights.

In mere seconds, we had shot ourselves across the universe.

We were in Nuva.

#p: red

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 5 ⋮ Red // Chapter 1

April 13th, 2019. 3:00 AM. ♪ - Sidewalks and Skeletons / Memory

Evening. On the 21st hour of Sandis Munvar. 

The meeting was meant to be private, instructed to take place in the undercroft of the Aedonnoe estate. It was also not something the Grand Minister had planned for their day; Kalar received word earlier of a discovery made in Sen by Eshta kar Ulmervis, a brilliant mulverri inventor and newest member of Kalar’s advisory council. They and a few of their apprentices left Essa many months ago to explore the uninhabited island. Upon their return, a transmission was made to the Minister, urging them to call a meeting. “It is of the utmost urgency,” they said, made evident by their wording and tone.

The meeting was of no trouble to Kalar, who felt more than comfortable leaving their eldest child Rael to run their council and tend to any administrative duties in their stead, a task they felt wary of entrusting to their other children. And if the results of Eshta’s excavation was truly of this much importance, it would be in Kalar’s best interest to give it priority over their other responsibilities for the time being.

Kalar reached the undercroft, albeit several minutes later than Eshta requested. The inventor looked visibly nervous, their pacing and nail biting only ceased by the Minister’s entrance. There was silence for a while, broken as the inventor and their apprentices bow and say their respects.

“Minist—Grand Minister Kalar…” Eshta begins, rising slowly from their forward arching position to meet the Minister’s eyes, who acknowledges them with a small nod of their head. They were far more astonishing up close. They stood nearly as tall as any Mobarri, body lean and muscled and decorated in bands. They were left unhidden due to the more revealing nature of their evening gown (more revealing than their normal wear, at least), and their hair had been drawn back in elegant braids to expose the ones on their face and neck, the 27th of them etched from one temple to the next, its V-shape worn like a crown on their head. A softer look for the usually hard and professional Kalar, but it suited them. It gave them a presence both regal and intimidating, a partnership that fit them quite nicely. 

A quick glance around the room and Eshta noticed that Kalar came alone. Perhaps this left them unnerved. Maybe they believed Kalar did not take them seriously, that they viewed this meeting as a waste of their time and would do away with them immediately after. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done this. Many nobles of smaller houses have come to Kalar throwing their money and support at the Minister’s feet in hopes they would overlook some of the nobles’… less than legal activities and past transactions. They were, instead, met with swift and unwavering justice.

This, of course, would not be the case for Eshta. Kalar had a sincere amount of trust in their abilities that they did not have for most. Whatever they’d found in their time on Sen, the Minister would not involve anyone else. Kalar alone wanted to know first.

Eshta straightens, clearing their throat as they collect themselves, “F-forgive me for m-my sudden request, but I…. I needed to see you about this…”

Carefully, though with shaking hands, the two apprentices that accompanied Eshta pulled a small case from their satchel, its shell made of pure Ulterian steel. Kalar raises their brow to this, yet continued to watch as the mulverri slowly approached the box. They undid every latch carefully, hands now shaking themselves, and occasionally glanced towards Kalar, perhaps to check whether they were bored or intrigued. Fortunately for them, Kalar’s expression remained interested, and even a little cautious.

The box is held before the Minister, and the lid is carefully lifted. And from it, a bright, blinding light is unleashed, enough that Kalar has to squint and look away. But as their eyes adjust, they take in the sight. And, slowly, their jaw fell agape. 

There before them, was an unbelievable discovery. One of insurmountable eminence. It was the [MEMORY REDACTED]

A single tear fell from Kalar’s eyes. I remember because the drop landed against the metal surface of my medallion form. They reached out at some point to grab the [MEMORY REDACTED] before their wrist is held in place by the mulverri, warning them of its danger.

“We do not fully understand it yet,” they stated, “We’ll need to run some… some tests to s-see if [MEMORY REDACTED]

They are all bent on their knees, the now closed metal case held closely against Kalar’s chest, enough that I can hear the low, yet powerful rumbling of the [MEMORY REDACTED]. Kalar spoke softly, in almost a whisper, singing a prayer to the acient Gods. To Umer and Amur. To Aedon. Something Kalar hadn’t done since they were a child. Something they’d never done in the time we were linked.

Kalar spoke clearly and fully after some time. “We need to [MEMORY REDACTED]

The mulverri is protesting. They are more shaken than before, voice raised and waving about as they… they warn us of [MEMORY REDACTED]

“The damned thing itself is [MEMORY REDACTED]

“To go against me is to betray the Empire. And that is not in the best interest of you, or Iannis,” A threat. Offered gently, but still made with serious intent, nonetheless. Kalar was serious, more unremitting in their stance than they’d ever been for any cause.

What they wanted… it was of absolute—

[MEMORY REDACTED]

I am trying…

[MEMORY REDACTED]

They exist in fragments now… teetering away from me…

[MEMORY REDACTED]

A waste…

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Kalar leaves. The mulverri stays. They look ill, burdened with consequence. With duty.

Kalar retreats into silence and solitude. Their heart races. A hand covers their mouth to smother.... their… crying? Or laughter…?

Kalar is—

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Kalar is gone.

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Miu.

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

Miu.

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[MEMORY REDACTED]

[ Wake up. ]

Sleeping has become somewhat of a difficult practice these days.

It’s mostly because I hardly get any sleep anymore, and because in the rare occasions that I do, I’m transported into a dreamscape unlike any I’ve visited. I’m always left unsure how to feel about them. They feel far less like dreams, and more like… memories. Ones that are not my own. And each one ends the same way, fragmented and tearing apart from the inside out. Then I’m pushed away, and I wake up.

The first few were tame: I’m walking on a beach, white locks falling past my shoulders, rose-colored sand pressed between my toes. It’s warm. It’s light. It feels… familiar. Comforting. I turn to face ruins, carvings and monuments that tell stories of a past I do not know, statues that honor people of a history I can’t remember. I turn the opposite way, and I see society, bustling and alive as ever. I feel… pride swelling within me. I can’t fully explain why I do, but the feeling is there. I move towards that city. My arm stretches out to it. But once I am close, I’m torn away from it, from the dream, all over again. 

The next time I sleep, it’s another dream. Maybe a different beach, or a different scene altogether. There are sights familiar to me, some unfamiliar. But the feeling is always the same. The pride is always there. That comfort I feel is always there. I cannot name the places or the people I see, but somehow, in the back of my mind I know that… I’m at home.

This one, however, was vastly different from the rest. What made it so different was that I was aware this time: aware that it was purely a memory. And I could hear—I could feel—Red’s presence there.

Red…

They haven’t spoken to me in two months. Not since we’ve been back.

I could tell it was because something was bothering them. No doubt the deeply disturbing scene we were met with before escaping. My family… my mother’s family… all gone. All lying at my feet. All staring back at me.

No. Nuh-uh. I shake my head, pushing the feeling, the imagery, away from my mind. I won’t go back into that dark place. I’m home now. I’m safe. We’re safe. Maybe we’re a little more broken then when we left, but… we’re okay now. We can heal. People can heal, even from the worst that life can throw at us…

…Right?

[ Miu... ]

Their voice again. It yanks me away from my thoughts, and I straighten, my back pulled away from the bed post.

{ Red… Where have you… what have you— }

[ My apologies. ] They continued, [ Not only for disturbing your sleep, but… for my absence. It’s been… hard. ]

I knew what they meant. Seeing Kalar… it couldn’t have been easy for them. The connection we’ve had for almost a year doesn’t come close to perhaps the centuries they’d spent with my ancestor. It’s a bond I’d probably never be able to comprehend, even if I wanted to.

{ It’s okay. I’m just… glad you’re here now. } I smile to myself, genuine in my response. I missed Red. And hearing them now, knowing they’re okay and with me, was enough.

[ I am glad too. ] They said simply, and it’s silent between us for a moment. I was afraid they retreated again, afraid the next time I’d feel them was in another fractured dream. I’m almost tempted to call out to them, but the silence was broken once more.

[ I.. I am… trying to remember something. Something important. But… I have reason to believe these memories have been purged from my database. ]

{ I see… } I nodded slowly. { So… they are memories… my dreams? }

[ …Yes. ] They answered, [ They are Kalar’s memories. But, the closer I get to something, it all… ]

{ Falls apart? } I interrupted. { Yeah… I was getting that feeling too. }

[ I… I think… Kalar’s actions, the ones they have tried to erase from me… I think they may have led to their downfall. ]

Oh.

I was standing now, pacing around my room trying to process what Red was telling me. Kalar’s downfall was Urrali. The downfall of everything was Urrali. Which meant…

{ …You think Kalar caused Urrali somehow?? }

[ No. But I think what they found may have. ]

{ …How do you know? }

[ I don’t know. I simply… have a feeling. ]

{ You told me I should never rely on feelings. }

[ Well, a feeling is all I have, considering my mind is very splintered at the moment. ]

{ …Well… maybe we’re mistaken. Maybe Kalar was— }

[ I don’t know how to feel about Kalar anymore. ]

I was cut off. And taken aback. In all the time I’ve known Red, they’ve done nothing but sing Kalar’s praises. Kalar, the Scourger. Kalar, the greatest tsanagar to ever walk the face of Ulteria. Kalar, the grandparent who’s name I would never live up to. Grand Minister fucking Kalar.

And now Red was telling me they didn’t trust them anymore.

{ …What changed? } 

[ You did. ]

I raised my brow { I did? }

[ You’ve changed my perspective on some things. ]

They are silent. I am silent. I didn’t know what to say, what to interject with. All I could do was process their words in hopes they would continue with their thoughts, explain themselves. Which they did.

[ I always used to think the source of Kalar’s greatness was in their power. Not merely their physical power, but their mental and political strength as well. They were cunning. Ambitious. Commanded the respect of their peers simply by entering a room. They were a great leader, and an even more exemplary tsanagar. Being linked to that mind… one with such creativity, focus and drive… I believed strongly that it was a bond all tsanista should strive towards. Because what mattered more than power? What should a tsanista desire more than to be utilized to our fullest potential? That was all I wanted. And no one, I mean no one, could fulfill that wish better than Kalar, the Scourger.

But… Kalar is gone. And in my time apart from them I’ve realized that something was… lacking. Not only in them, but amongst most Camerians. I believe they all felt the way I did: to respect power. To follow it. Tsanista were programmed with the same ideologies, same values, same desires. And yet still there is something… lacking… something I didn’t realize until I met you. 

You are nothing like Kalar, that much is certain. You share their ambition, but only in things some would consider frivolous. You are powerful, but lack any form of control. You are jovial, yet hedonistic. Brave, yet impulsive. And above all else… you are compassionate. And I say this with earnest, because compassion is not a concept I have understood to its full extent until I crossed paths with you. This isn’t to say the Camerians were uncaring, certainly not, but I also wouldn’t say it was the trait that most defined them. But you… you were merely a child when you first met me. You did not understand what I was, or what power I possessed. But you still cared for me, held me close to your heart and wore me around your neck because of what I represented: family. Heritage. Things that were important to you, even at such a young age. 

You are driven by your love for the people in your life. Not power, not access, not status. But love. For family, for friends, for those you only just met. Even without being linked, you watched over me your whole life. You showed me that same love. And for that, I... I am grateful to have you. ]

My chest rose and fell, keeping pace with my slow breaths. I was unable to stand halfway through Red’s speech, collapsing back onto the bed as my hands quickly wiped at my dampened cheeks. I was so used to being compared to the one who came before, so used to feeling inadequate, like nothing I did could ever come close or ever be enough. But now the song has changed. 

[ You have much to learn, but… I have trust in your capacity to learn them. And while you are not Kalar… I wouldn’t ask you to be. I believe that one day… you will exceed them. ]

{ Red, I… I don’t know what to say… }

My head is silent once more, neither of us talking as the room is filled with nothing but the sound of my sniffles. I call out for them again, not wanting the moment between us to pass so soon…

But they don’t answer.

{ Red…? } I call again, but no answer.

“Red?” I say it aloud this time.

Nothing.

They retreated again. I don’t know when I’ll hear from them again. Maybe another two months. Maybe in my dreams.

Maybe…

There’s a warmth against my arm. I thought perhaps the hot, stinging tears breaching my lids had fallen against the exposed skin. But the warmth spread far too wide for that. And it grew hotter, and hotter. Until it was burning.

My gaze shoots down to see light forming around my forearm, right beneath Red’s marking on my wrist. I bite down hard on my lip to suppress the scream that so desperately wanted to escape, my hand wrapping around the golden light. It burned in a way that felt so familiar. I remember it well, the pain of being dragged by my hair across the cold, wooden floor, the heat forming at my wrist only tempered by the cool metal as Red wound tightly around it, and us, together, killing my assailant.

And then… the burning stopped. And in its place the marking that read “oath.”

But this one did not carry the same lettering. It didn’t look the same, either.

The band, not a large one by any means, but certainly not as small as my first marking. It wrapped around my forearm, the elaborate Camerata script drawn on the inside, all the way around until it met at the triangle in its center.

My heavy breathing slowed as the sensation died down. I could feel something different within me. A change. 

Or maybe… a gift.

[ You will earn more once you are ready. ]

My thumb traced along the outside of the band. My eyes search desperately for meaning in the etchings that I cannot read. Everyday, my bond grows deeper. I am changed in ways I cannot explain and have yet to fully understand. But… I am not opposed to them.

[ ⋖◈⋗ ] Now Processing… First Band Received Repair I Function Activated

#p: red

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 4 ⋮ Kalar // Final Chapter

Mission: Return ♪ - Berlinist / Perseverance

TW: mentions of death, disturbing scenes

Another day, another letter home to my parents.

Granted, the first few were justified. Within two months of starting third grade, I’d been sent to the principle’s office twice. Once for getting into a fight with Jess Winters, my desk-mate in art class and a glitter marker thief, and the other for “disrupting the class” when me and my friend Mateo started an impromptu farting orchestra with our armpits.

Those? I’ll admit it, they were justified. But this, I refuse to take the blame for.

“Marley needs to apply herself.”

God, I hated that name.

That’s what the end of the letter read. I hadn’t opened it, but my mother read it aloud to me in a tone so tense you could tell she struggled to smolder the anger she was feeling.

But what did she want me to do? How was I supposed to “apply” myself any more than I already was? It wasn’t my fault that the readings were boring, or that the lessons dragged on for longer than they should, or that I was expected to just sit still the entire time she’s rambling on about multiplying fractions when I was already capable of doing these problems with half a braincell, rendering her long-winded explanations useless.

The only problem was I never felt like doing the problems. Or the reading, or sitting still. I never took interest in the things she or anyone around me would do or say, especially when I’d tried before and failed to fit in. Words were just sounds and the people around me merely shapes. All of it empty and devoid of any meaning. I took more interest in the characters moving across my Gameboy screen. A Gameboy I was going to lose after my parents grounded me.

My mother folded the letter and placed it on the table with perhaps a little more force than she intended. My father, far more disappointed than angry, sighed as he crossed his arms. I sat in silence, staring at the swirling pattern of the wooden table, afraid to look either of them in the face.

“Mars, look,” my dad began, “I know it’s difficult, trust me I know. But you’ve gotta stop—”

“Leave us,” my mom interrupted. We both looked at her in surprise.

“Please,” she continued, “I… need to speak with her. Alone.”

My father, reluctant to leave, stood for a moment looking between the two of us before finally conceding. He pointed a finger at me, “We’ll continue this later.”

After he left the room, leaving me at the mercy of the harsher parent, I continued staring hard at the table, trying desperately to avoid those piercing eyes. I could practically feel her gaze burning a hole in the side of my head.

But instead of her typical scolding, instead of yelling at me, she simply sighed. And all the negative energy practically dissipated out of the room.

“Look at me,” she ordered calmly, and I slowly turned my head, timid eyes staring up at her.

“I am only going to say this once, so listen.” She frowned at me, leaning in. “You are better than this. You are brighter than this. I know you are. And I know that what you’re dealing with is hard, and that you feel no one around you understands…” She pulls my crossed arm away from my chest to hold my hand, dragging her thumb lazily across my palm, “But I need you to know that no matter what anyone says, be it teacher or student or doctor, your mind is special. There’s no need to feel ashamed of that.”

Annoyed, I snatch my hand away and cross my arms again. “But isn’t that what you teach me to do? To hide what makes me ‘special’?” I shot back, complete with air quotes. “Well, I’m sorry. But this isn’t anything I can just… pack away! No matter how much you or Ms. Archie or anyone wants me to!”

She’s silent for a moment, averting her gaze, as if she’s searching for the words to say in the pattern of the wood. I expected her to be angry with me, scold me for my outburst. Instead, when she turned back to me, she was still calm. Still trying her hardest to reach out to me. Trying to understand me.

“I don’t want you to hide yourself. I would never ask that of you,” she spoke, “I’m asking you to harness your bright mind for good.”

She takes my hand back yet again, cradling it gently in both of hers.

“Ellar kalmonerri.”

My eyes darted towards her again as the familiar tongue rolled past her lips. A language she spoke only rarely, mostly when she was thinking of her home.

“…something your mom told you?” I asked gently, nervous of her response. She only occasionally talked about her own family, and her past. The subject was still… sore for her.

She smiled softly, another rare behavior that made me believe something was really wrong. Maybe she was sick? Whatever illness struck her, I was thankful for it. She was being nicer than I’d ever seen her be in my 8 long years of life. I smiled back at her, squeezing her hand gently.

“Yes,” she said simply, smoothing out my hair, “Something my mother told me.”

Fear seems to be a theme with me these days.

There was the fear I felt when Xhen was tracking me. Then the fear of death I felt not too long ago, being impaled in the side and bleeding out until I was unconscious.

But this fear… It was a blinding, white, hot fear. It made every bone and muscle in my body turn to liquid at the very thought of the enemy I was to face now.

The Process.

I know very little about them. That being, I’d never had the pleasure of encountering one. But I do remember them being mentioned a few times in my mom’s stories, and I learned more from Red, who is surprisingly more acquainted with them than I’d originally thought they’d be.

They were responsible for the eradication of my entire race.

Every part of them is weaponized. Their scream, their touch, their massive bodies of black, molten metal that allowed them to bend and shape themselves however they like. They seek nothing but destruction, and to drain the life of everything around them in order to power themselves. They were dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous enemy I’ve faced since being here.

And they were searching for me.

I knew they were. Red didn’t have to tell me in order to realize that. I was certain that they could sense me, similar to the way I could sense other people. Bioelectric fields, though faint, always give me a good sense of my surroundings. And while I don’t know for certain if they also function this way, I did tell by their behavior that they could pick up something. Something about living things, about me, made them instantly more curious than when I hadn’t entered the city.

Luckily, I was pretty good at hiding. But I didn’t know for how long.

I needed to make a distraction.

[ This area is not safe. ]

“I know…” I whispered back faintly. I was holed up in what remained of someone’s bedroom. That someone, unfortunately, was still in their bed. A pile of bones tucked in neatly under their sheets. This was the standard every two feet I traversed. Bodies everywhere. Lifelessness everywhere. Everything and everyone was… gone.

Maybe that’s why the Process was so curious about me. For them, there was a source of power nearby. With everyone else being dead, there was nothing for them to recharge from. They hadn’t fed in, what, years? Decades? Centuries, even?

They wanted me… because they’re dying.

“The Process is dying… the Process is dying!”

The last words came out as a little more than a whisper, but it was enough to alert one of them. They let out a short, inquisitive howl and my hands immediately slapped over my mouth. I went still. Not moving, hardly breathing. I did absolutely nothing while the processor searched for me, its flexible arms curling around the walls while its large, glowing red orb for an eye peered through each window.

I was trembling, almost vibrating, praying to anyone, any deity or spirit or ancestor that was watching over me to make it leave.

Now would be a good time for a distraction, wouldn’t it?

If power is what they want, then I need to give it to them. Somewhere else, somewhere far away from me. I closed my eyes and searched. I searched for any slight signal or wave of energy to grab on to. For a while, there was nothing. Every building for what felt like blocks was too severely destroyed for any of it to be useful. Until…

Wait.

These bodies still had tsanista. And some of them still worked.

[ …What are you thinking of? ] I could tell Red was on to my scheming. But I had to try, no matter how much they’d protest.

The tsanista was far, but not beyond my reach. That made it perfect for my plan. I may not be able to link with it, being already linked with Red, but I can probably activate it enough that the signal it gives off is strong. Hopefully, strong enough to lure these guys away.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the device, my mind looking into their own, pulling at it ever so carefully until I could connect with it fully. I reached in further to link with it, seeing what it saw, feeling what it felt. Before I knew, they opened up to me. And in that moment, I was hit with a surge of visions, memories of itself and its wielder, all within half a second.

It was activated. And shortly after, it rejected me.

I was pulled back, inhaling sharply as my eyes shot open. The Processor, whose elongated, twisted arms were now curled around my face, began to retreat towards the new source of energy, and so did the rest. Their cries slowly became more distant, until they were no more. Finally it was safe to move.

I looked in the direction of my desired destination. A large, towering skyscraper. Dilapidated, but in better shape than the rest of this place. Something about it felt… familiar. It felt safe in a way I couldn’t explain. For that reason, I assumed it was my best bet of finding a way out of here. Or at least, getting as far away from these monsters as I could.

But I guess I spoke too soon.

As soon as I left my hiding spot within the destroyed building, climbing out the window and onto the path, I felt it behind me. Slowly, I turned to meet them, trembling as soon as I met its face.

A Processor had stayed behind. It stared me down, completely still and not making a single sound. Their form was much like mine, two arms and two legs, albeit still a rather weird, oblong shape. They mimicked me, rather than something alien and unsightly like the rest. But the stillness of them, it was more than unnerving. It put the fear of God in me. That blinding, white fear, building up in the form of burning, hot voltage in my veins. I could feel it down my arms to my fingertips. And they could feel it too; I knew from the way one of their statue-still arms slowly formed and hardened itself into a thick, heavy blade. It deemed me a threat, or perhaps deemed my power a suitable meal. But wouldn’t be so easy to ground. After everything, after all I had to do, after all the fighting and building my way out of Talur, I refused to be snuffed out so easily.

I lifted my arms, and with all the strength I could muster, I sent a massive blast towards the beast and blew it to fragments.

The legs were all that stood, the entire upper body gone. Obliterated. Perhaps it was dead. I was still shaking, adrenaline still coursing through me after such an action. A move I would soon regret, as I turned to see I’d alerted the others.

And turned back to see the Processor I’d previously destroyed slowly reforming the top of its body.

I didn’t need Red to tell me to run. I immediately took flight, taking off as fast as I could in the direction of the tower. Following behind were a plethora of arms and other ligaments, shooting at me in an attempt to drag me out of the sky. Many of them climbed over rubble and bodies in an effort to reach me, and they just might. I wasn’t moving fast enough. I wasn’t going to reach it. I dodged and weaved away from their attacked as best I could, using Red to cut away whatever arms managed to grab at my shoe, throwing blasts here and there if I could, most of them missing. No use. There were too many, and the tower was too far.

Yet still, I refused. No matter the odds, I was never the type to give up, was I? This would be no different.

That same energy from before surged within me again, this time coursing through every vein, every arm and leg and through my fingertips, my eyes glowing bright and hazy as the electricity overtook them. I was a ball of lightning, shooting through the sky.

And within less than a second, I went from flying away from death to rocketing straight through a window of the tower.

I made it.

Ow.

I don’t how long I was out. It couldn’t have been that long, because lifting my head off the floor I could still see two suns hanging in the sky, albeit both on the verge of setting. Groaning, I lifted the rest of my body from the ground and rubbed my head while a free arm rested over my still-healing side. It was sore, just like every other part of me.

May or may not have to do with the fact that I just flew into a building at the speed of light.

Or at least… it felt that fast.

I straightened and looked around, taking in my surroundings. The room was empty, safe for the intricate carvings that decorated every wall. Every figure there looked… familiar. I knew these carvings. I knew this place, and yet for some reason, I—

Red.

[ This place… ] They’d finally spoke, after moments of complete silence. [ I hadn’t been here in what… eons? Some things haven’t changed still… that’s good. ]

I imagined this was all harder for them to see than it was for me, and trust me when I say I wasn’t having fun. They were essentially born here, raised here. And now it was all gone.

“Mm… Red? I think… I think I remember this place… from a dream.” I studied each and every carving carefully. I did more than recognize the carvings; I recognized the people in them.

[ My memories along with the memories of my wielder, both past and current, are stored permanently within me, unless purged. The memories of my previous wielder—your grandmother—were never done away with. And if I’m honest… I never want to be without them. ]

I was silent for a moment, taking in their words. These dreams I’d been having for months, they were all just Red’s memories, playing out in my head from time to time. Red dreamt like I did, except they thought of their past. They thought of home. And those thoughts were shared with me.

Everything was starting to make more sense to me now. My powers, my heritage, everything. Being linked was more than just a psionic connection. It was an emotional one. A marriage between two souls. Two minds becoming one. I was just much a part of Red as they were a part of me. Relaying their memories to me through my dreams was just their way of deepening that connection.

“Red,” I started again, still looking around the room, “Can you, umm… can you tell me about her? About this place?”

They’re quiet for a while, and the silence felt long, but eventually they began.

[ This place is the ancestral home of the Aedonnoe clan. It is the clan of your mother, your grandmother. Your entire bloodline belonged to the most powerful and influential house in Camerian history. ]

Damn.

“Continue,” I requested, moving on to search through other rooms, stairs, and corridors of the estate.

[ Kalar nu Aedonnoe was one of the twelve Ministers of Camer. Each Minister ruled over one of twelve factions. Kalar’s was the capital, Essa. That is where we are now. ]

“Is that why they were so rich and powerful? Because they got the best faction or whatever?” I asked, entering a wide, spacious room that looked mostly untouched, safe for the doors that had been thoroughly rummaged through. There was a wall that carried nothing but daggers, swords, and knives of elaborate designs. It looked like a few of those had been missing too. Apart from that, it had been the biggest room I searched so far. Large furniture to match. The person who slept here must’ve been important.

[ Only half the reason, yes. ] Red answered my question. [ This is Rael’s room. ]

“Rael?”

[ Your mother. ]

Oh.

Granted it made sense that this was her room. She certainly was an important person, being a Minister’s daughter and all. And the room definitely looked like her. Minimalist, no gaudy designs. Just her and her collection of weird knives.

I took the smallest dagger from the rack. It folded neatly, and I sat it in my pocket. Maybe… she’d be happy to see this again. A piece of home…

If I ever have the chance to give it to her.

“You said that was only ‘half the reason’ for their power,” I continued, leaving to venture off into other parts of the tower. “What’s the other half?”

[ The other source of their power was simply… raw power ] Red stated, [ The Aedonnoe were famous for coming from a long line of powerful Camerians. They even get their name from a legendary Gris they are supposedly descended from. ‘Aedonnoe’… I believe it is why you are so powerful. It is rare, but Gris Al Morrena children have existed within the Aedonnoe line. You are the latest of them. ]

“Yeah? And what happened to them, then? If they’re so powerful, maybe they survived.”

[ Same that happened to everyone, it would seem. I doubt they were as lucky as you to escape the Process. ]

Red sounded morose with that last statement. It seemed like traversing through the tower was less interesting for them. Understandably so. What was once, I imagine, a bustling metropolis in the center of a powerful empire, was now a ghost town. Halls filled with nothing but cobwebs, lost memories, and forgotten souls. The entire place was wrecked by a feeling of sadness and loss.

It only made our next discovery worse.

After exploring several more rooms and halls, investigating the remnants of my family, we pushed our way through a massive door. They were heavy and slow, and could only be opened by a Camerian; they needed to be controlled through technokinesis. It was a massive, circular room. The only lighting in the room came from the windows that covered every wall. Ripped and mangled tapestries hung from a ceiling so tall the very top was hidden in the shadows. Even the colors were elaborate, glistening hues and pink and purple and blue, from ceiling to floor.

And on those very floors… laid the skeletal remains of the fallen.

Bodies everywhere.

I couldn’t describe what I was feeling now. An ugly, heart-wrenching mixture of shock, fear, and sadness. I was still, taking in the awful scene with mournful, glassy eyes. A hand went over my mouth to keep any sobs from escaping.

This was my family… what was left of them. They didn’t make it.

No one did.

No one escaped.

I walked through the room slowly, minding any bodies that draped over my path to the single, large throne in the center of the room. In it sat their body. The body of someone I hadn’t met, but knew.

The sob I was holding back, came out as loud, strained whimper.

“It’s…”

[ Kalar. ]

I dropped to my knees, trembling as I stared up at their body with glassy eyes, tears falling down my cheeks every time I blinked. It was as if Red’s sadness intermixed with my own to form a deep, painful, and unending sorrow. I don’t know what I was expecting to find. Maybe, I thought, just maybe, I’d find a chance. A chance that someone, anyone, could’ve made it out too. That my all-powerful family found a way to beat this great evil. That maybe, in all my searching, I’d find a glimmer of hope.

But there is no hope, is there? There’s no hope for any of us. All we can do is try.

“Ellar kalmonerri.”

We all carry weight.

I leaned forward in a deep bow, my forehead centimeters away from touching the floor. “Go in peace,” I uttered softly before rising to my feet again. I gave them, and everyone else in the room, one last look over, before the action started again.

The Process. The fucking Process. They’d scaled the tower, their twisted limbs now breaking through every window and wall, through the ceiling through the floor. They were bringing the tower, my ancestral home, the grave of my family, my people, to the ground.

Sadness turned to fear, turned to anger. Pure, indescribable anger.

I wanted to destroy the Process. I wanted them to be as broken down and forgotten as the rest of this place. And more than anything, I wanted to leave, to be home where it was safe, where death wasn’t everywhere.

Anger turned to power, and that power took over every cell of my body yet again, my eyes filled once more with the white hotness of electricity, which traveled down through every vein.

I was more than just lightning now. I was a supernova, releasing itself in the very face of evil.

The blast that left me was enough to level the tower. Every Processor was obliterated. Whether they’d reform or not I didn’t care. Because now I was rocketing through the sky, past the clouds, breaking through the atmosphere at such speed and force that you could hear the loud crack as I soared like a missile through the universe. Red already encased my body completely, protecting me from the vacuum of space as I flew far away. Away from Camer, from Ulteria altogether. Away from Xhen, from Zhu’drak, from Dan and his mech. Away from it all.

And rocketed toward home.

I don’t know how long it took to reach Earth. All I could remember was blazing forward at blinding speed, seeing nothing but light. I only slowed down upon entering Earth’s atmosphere.

I could’ve started flying, protecting myself from the fall. But I didn’t mind the sensation of freefalling. I welcomed it. The exhilaration, it was almost enough to erase the pain. I wanted to keep feeling the wind in my face, taste the fresh air of the planet I was raised on, for just a little longer.

But the force of the ground took it away from me.

Welcome back.

#p: kalar

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 4 ⋮ Kalar // Chapter 5

Mission: Farewell ♪ - FM-84 / Goodbye

The last few memories come to me in fragments.

First, I’m writhing on the ground, encased in a metal sphere of my own creation, as I clutch my side. Everything feels hot; a burning, painful sensation as the dark purple hue of my own blood stains the fabric of my shirt. Tears are stinging my eyes, and I’m screaming. I’m begging for anyone, anything to help me, to take this pain way. I cry out for Red. I cry for Xhen, for my dad, for my mom. For anyone.

Then it’s nothing but black.

The last thing I remember after that is dangling from Xhen’s arms. They’re running somewhere, tense and worried. Something’s wrapped tightly around my waist. I try to speak to them, but all that comes out is weak mumbling. Then I was out again.

It was like that for a while. Stuck in the darkness. If I was asleep, I don’t remember having a single dream. For a while, I thought maybe I was dead. That’d be an exciting end of things, huh. Miu, bled to death on an unknown planet, in a galaxy far, far away. Her parents give up on finding her, if they were ever trying. Her friends forget all about her. She’s gone, nothing but a miniscule speck in the universe, wiped from existence.

It didn’t matter what happened to me. I tried to convince myself of that because I wanted to believe everyone would be alright when I’m gone. Maybe they would be whether I believed it or not. Either way, I knew I didn’t want to die yet. And despite the shithole my life was now, I was hanging onto it with both hands.

I guess the universe heard my pathetic plea.

After what felt like a century had passed, my eyes blinked open. I took in my surroundings; I was back in Xhen’s studio. I could tell from the drafty emptiness of it, and the way the entire room filled with the euphoric lilac color of the two setting suns. My fingers toy with the fabric of Xhen’s comforter, though what ceases my fumbling is the soft clasp of a hand over mine.

“Terran…”

I turned my head slowly towards the sound, blinking a few times to take in the image of Xhen’s face. Their expression was relaxed, softened in the way I like. But their gaze was intense. They were studying me, trying to see if I was okay.

I wasn’t.

The pain I couldn’t feel at first made itself known; it shot through my side the moment I opened my mouth to say something. Instead, all that came out was a strained whimper, and my free arm immediately went around my torso, now thoroughly wrapped with gauzes.

Granted, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as�� when it happened. It was healing faster than I thought it would. But it was enough pain that I was left debilitated. I wanted desperately to sit up, to move at all. God knows how long I’ve been lying here. But I was left without the slightest bit of energy.

All I could do in that moment was cry.

I didn’t mean to. The tears started forming, and rather than wiping them away, I let them breach pass my eyelids and run down the sides of my face. I never cry in front of people. I never open up. I never show my vulnerabilities. But lying here, with Xhen watching me so carefully, without the energy to even move, I knew I was at my lowest. And there was no better way to release all that pent up frustration, anger, and self-hate… than to just cry.

“I…I’m sorry…” I breathed out, my eyes searching for anything to stare at than the look on Xhen’s face.

“They were crush heads,” they began, “You upset them when you took out their guy in the last round. You won fairly and were treated unfairly as a result. There is nothing for you to apologize for.”

The calm, monotone nature of their voice was somehow enough to make me cry harder. They were doing their best to soothe me, comfort me. But all I could focus on was the pain. The pain I caused to myself. The pain I caused to everyone. I suck at this. Just like everything else in my life, I—

“Rest,” Xhen ordered calmly, gently resting a free hand on my forehead. Almost as if they could hear my inner lamentations and deeply wanted to cease them.

I listened, exhaling slowly and shutting my eyes. In a few moments, I was out. Back into the darkness.

I woke up in the same place as before, the hazy, purple lighting now replaced with a dim, bluish hue. The suns had gone down, and in its place were six moons of varying sizes, hung perfectly in the sky.

Xhen sat in their spot in the window seat, an open book resting on their thigh as they stared down at the still-busy streets of Zhu’drak. My pain had subsided enough that I could turn on my side, but not without some effort. I let out a small grunt as I shifted my body. It was enough to grab Xhen’s attention, whose head whipped around quickly to meet eyes with me before rushing to my side.

“I’m okay, I’m—” another groan as I attempted to sit up. They aided me, their strong hands supporting me as I sit upright for the first time in days. I leaned my back against the wall and sighed. “Thanks…” I responded with a small smile, still catching my breath. They simply nodded and watch me, eyes roaming over my face, arms, chest, stomach so very carefully. They looked pensive, as if they were trying to find the words to say.

“Do you… need anything?” they said finally. I think on my response for a minute, I needed a lot of things. Water. Food. Some fresh clothes, maybe. But all my mind could wander to was the image of Xhen in the windowsill, staring out calmly at a night sky.

“Can I join you…? By the window, I mean. Doing… whatever it is you do.” I smiled at them again, warmly this time, despite my exhaustion.

They raised a brow, but didn’t question my request. Immediately, their arms went carefully around my legs and upper torso, lifting me from the mattress and carrying me over to the windowsill. The arm that didn’t clutch my side draped around their neck for support, only leaving once they set me down on the side opposite to their spot. Xhen sat, and together we took in the nighttime view.

We sat there in silence for quite some time. Maybe Xhen didn’t know what to say. Hell, I didn’t know what to say. Not after everything that’s happened. It was as if neither of us had a chance to process what we’ve been through over the past few days. But here now, taking in the silence that befell us, in the first moment of peace we had in days, I realized something.

“Did you, um…” I said, finally breaking the pregnant silence. “Did you get the supplies from Dan? The hildar…”

They nodded, “I did.”

“Good. I can build it tomorrow.”

“You need time to heal.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not—"

“I’m fine.” I protested, “Besides, aren’t you tired of taking care of me? Don’t you want to be done? For this to be over?”

Their eyes flicker toward me in a darkened expression as they fell silent again. And I instantly sank into myself.  Once again, I was taking my frustration out on the people who didn’t deserve it, on the people merely trying to help me. Closing myself off from everyone when I’m down: a secret talent of mine.

“Miu,” they spoke finally, and the sound of my name caught me off guard. I blinked at her in surprise. They reached out, gently unfurling my crossed arms and holding my hands in theirs, turning my palms to face upwards.

Then with their thumbs, one of metal and the other of flesh, make small circular motions against the inside of my hands.

Familiar.

“It’s funny,” they started again, “We are all… separated. By lands, by sea. By languages, cultures, and customs. But this one gesture…” their eyes flicker away from our hands without ceasing their motions, as they lock eyes with me, who was staring at them in disbelief. “It’s always the same. No matter where you are, across all Ulterian continents, it carries the same meaning. Love, comfort, companionship... It means peace.”

Their gaze returns to the circular movements against my palms, and after a few moments they finally pull away. I was still, looking down at my hands, and wondered how long it’d been since someone performed that gesture for me… since I’d last seen my mother. Or my father. My family, my friends. How long had I felt this lonely? This lost? The angry? How long had I been here? And not ‘here’ as in this planet, but… here. In a stasis. This state of isolation and… regrets? Before I knew it, small droplets of tears were falling from my eyes and into my palms. It was all bubbling to the surface now.

“I am… sorry for attacking you.” They spoke, and my eyes shot up toward them, blinking away the remaining tears. “And for causing you so much distress. You are here because of my negligence, because I failed my mission,” they paused, still searching for the words to say, “But please… allow me to make up for my mistakes. Do not push me away.”

The phrase sent a pang of guilt shooting through me, and I collected myself, wiping my face dry of the escaping tears. I cleared my throat, “You… you’ve done more than enough, Xhen. And I’m thankful for you, really. I know you’re worried… but I can make it for you. I want to help. You would’ve never failed in your duties if it hadn’t been for me, anyway. Besides, I’m tired of laying around doing… nothing. Not good to stay in my head all the time…”

“Trust me. I know the feeling.” They gave me a soft smile, relaxing as they leaned in a bit more. They were eyeing the gauzes around my waist. “How does it feel?”

“Mm… like I got stabbed.” I joked, huffing a quiet laugh in response. They laughed as well, and it was the prettiest thing I’d heard in days. I smiled and relaxed myself as well, leaning against the window for support. They matched my posture, resting against the window with crossed arms and legs. We’re silent for a moment, glancing out the window every now and then to see how few people still roamed the streets. But for the most part our eyes stay on each other.

“Can I… ask you a question?” Xhen’s voice breaks the lull. “…How do your powers work?”

I giggled, “So no one’s seen a Camerian for that long, huh? Not even you, Universe-Traveler?”

They tensed, turning visibly nervous. Not answering either.

My smile faded some, and I knitted my brows together, thinking of how to respond. I didn’t really know how to explain what I could do. Red would respond objectively, using a bunch of terminology neither of us would understand. But to explain them from my perspective, what these abilities were to me, was a harder task.

Yet, as my eyes traced along the smooth corners of their face, and I took in the energy of the room, I eventually came to my answer.

“Every neuron in the body releases millions of electrical synapses at once. Each of those impulses pulse at a rapid and steady pace.” I waved my hand, gesturing around the room, “There’s electricity all around us too. Not just in the tools we use, but in the earth beneath us. In the atmosphere. Waves of electrical energy, given off by every living and nonliving thing. I can… feel it. Control it. That’s how I can shape Red. And Dan’s Mech if I wanted to. And how I do this…”

My hand hovers towards Xhen’s arm, fingers close to but not touching their skin. I pull gently, ever so gently, at the energy within them. And from that tug came sparks, from my fingertips to their skin. Not enough to sting, and barely enough to tickle. I dragged the tiny bolt along their forearm, to the lines of their biceps, past their shoulder and across their collarbone. Each passing of my fingertips was gentle and slow. As gentle as their smile.

“So you can see inside me?” They stated with a raised brow.

“…That sounded so weird,” I chuckled, “It’s not like x-ray vision or anything, but yes.”

They laughed along with me, and I pulled my hand away again. Peering from the window down at the city, I could see the once busy streets of Zhu’drak were now almost empty, with maybe one or two people still wandering about. I only realized then how late it’d gotten. But I was too taken by this side of Xhen to notice anything else. I could hardly feel the pain in my side anymore either. They’d been the perfect distraction from my own internal issues. In days they’d gone from being my nemesis, a source of distress, to becoming the remedy to all my pain.

“I’m going to miss you,” I said aloud, not realizing the words had left me until it was too late. I grew nervous, wanting to take them back, but the softness of their expression and the warmth in their eyes instantly soothed those worries.

“I… have grown fond of you too, Miu.” They said, soft and hesitant.

“Oh? You’re gonna miss my spark, Xhen?” I teased with a coy smirk and a quirk of my brow.

They only chuckled and shook their head. “Perhaps. You are… an entertaining creature. And useful. And kind when you did not need to be…” they sighed softly, “I have very few friends… so our time has meant a lot to me. More than I wish to admit. Mm… what I’m saying is… thank you.”

I regarded them for a long moment, painting into my memory every line and detail of their face, before leaning in, not caring about the pain in my side.

I didn’t want them to forget me. I didn’t want them to forget the spark that prickled at every inch my skin, from arms to lips. I didn’t want to forget the feeling of theirs, or the warmth their breath, or the tickle of their hair. I wanted my last memories of Xhen to be as palpable as possible. I wanted every negative emotion that filled me, every worry that filled them, to be swept away.

I was dreading tomorrow.

I barely wanted to leave the windowsill. Almost didn’t want to leave at all.

I’d miss them dearly.

But the end of a journey is always bittersweet, isn’t it? No matter what, you’re always losing something.

The hildar took the entire morning to finish, but once it was done, it was better than the one I’d destroyed. Sturdy and powerful, the two orbs at the end glowing with power far more immense than the last. Part of me wonders if I’d made a mistake in making this, but it was far too late for me to worry about that now.

Carefully and securely packaged away, I hand off the boxed device to Xhen. They were delivering it today, which explained the newer clothes and hair slicked back in a professional bun.

“Well don’t you look nice.” I looked them up and down with a smile. They huffed a small laugh, looking away in a manner I swore was bashfulness.

They took the hildar from me and set it down. Reaching into their jacket, they pulled a round, yellow device from their inner pocket, handing it to me. Fingers gliding over the dim-lit screen and the small button on the side, I realized this was the device that brought us here in the first place.

And the screen read for one more charge.

“Enough to get you home. As promised,” they nodded, “Please don’t waste it.”

“But… how will you—”

“I’ll get a new one,” they interrupted, waving me off. “What’s important is that I fulfill my duty to you.”

I couldn’t stop my arms from wrapping around their waist and squeezing as tight as my arms would allow. Words weren’t enough to express how grateful I was for their friendship, for their help, and for making the time I spent in this bizarre and wondrous place so memorable. Despite our rocky introduction, they’d become someone I cared very deeply for.

I was going to miss Xhen. I hoped they’d miss me too.

“Take care, alright?” I pulled away, looking up at them with glassy eyes. Their expression remained calm, merely nodding at me.

“You too.”

Once goodbyes were said, Xhen told me the coordinates for Earth. And as I absentmindedly entered them in, I kept eyes locked on them, taking a last good look at them and the world I was leaving behind.

Without wasting any more time, I pressed the button on the side, clutching the tsanista that hung around my neck, as I was transported away.

Many months ago, I had a dream. A strange one, really. Only because it felt so real. I stood on a beach, covered in pink sands, that overlooked a long and empty sea. I was surrounded mostly by nothingness, but the further I walked the more I discovered. Most of which were in ruins.

Why is it that the place I stood now, seconds after having left Zhu’drak, looked nothing like Earth? There was no Tokyo. I wasn’t in Seoul. Hell, I wasn’t in San Francisco either.

Instead I stood on the beach of roseate sand, overlooking an endless, empty ocean. And behind me, in the distance, I saw the ruins of a city.

[ Oh no… ]

“What?” I was startled by the sound of Red’s voice, of whom I hadn’t heard a word from in days.

[ The coordinates… you were wrong. ]

I looked down at the device, now empty of charges, and realized the coordinates were indeed entered wrong.

“Where… where are we?” I asked, plenty of fear in my voice.

[ This is Camer. ] Red stated simply. [ Or rather… what’s left of it. ]

Before I had a moment to react in the way my fear wanted me to, a sound rippled through the air. A cacophonous, ear shattering screech of what could only be produced by a massive beast, straight from the depths of hell.

[ The Process… ]

Oh no, indeed.

#p: kalar

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 4 ⋮ Kalar // Chapter 4

Mission: Crush ♪ - Sidewalks and Skeletons / Disappear

TW: violence

[ This is by far the worst decision you’ve ever made in your entire life. ]

So. It seems my plan was unpopular amongst the rest of my party members.

Shortly after agreeing to the deal, the shop owner handed the mech over to us and explained the rules of the crusher battles in more detail. Two mechs take to the ring and battle until the other is damaged to the point where it can’t continue (or until its pilot is dead… hoping it never comes to that). Leaving the ring, whether it be stepping out of bounds or flying away in fear, earns you an instant disqualification, and your precious bot gets shot down and melted for parts. Winner gets bragging rights and whatever parts from the loser’s sorry hunk of metal is still intact.

They also get a hefty supply of a drug named ‘Crush’. Which, if I had to guess off the top of my head, is the origin of the tournament’s name.

And one more thing: anything built with Ulterian steel is illegal. Wouldn’t be fair, with it being the most indestructible material known in the universe. Which means no tsanista. No Red.

And they certainly weren’t happy about it.

“You haven’t even known me my entire life,” I shot back at the judgmental voice in my head. “Besides, this is gonna be fine. I can win! I know I can.” I smiled confidently at no one, and Xhen continued to stare at me quizzically with a single brow raised.

“Anyway,” The taller one interrupted, grunting as she towed the massive mech along in the cart granted to us by the shopkeeper. I knew Xhen was strong (the strength of her punches still rang loud in my memory), but actually seeing the extent of that power was… quite mesmerizing, to say the least.

“This plan is only good if you win,” she said sternly. “How are you so sure you will anyway? You’ve never seen a crusher fight.”

I shrugged off the question, “I don’t need to see one. The shopkeeper’s description was more than enough. And after looking at the controls, I know exactly how to redesign this baby.” I grinned and slapped the side of the mech, the metal making a loud clang. “Judging from the rules, it’s more or less just like any fighting game I’ve ever played, so—”

[ ...Miu, this is not a video game. ]

“But it is one! Sort of. Only in real-life. With giant suits of armor.” I shrugged again. “Look… I need you—both of you—to trust me on this. I know what I’m doing, okay? I promise.”

[ I don’t think you do. ]

“Yeah, well, who asked you?”

[ I know. Why don’t we just steal the supplies instead? Or better yet, use me to fly back to Earth. Who cares how many centuries it’ll take! ]

“I’m not stealing from him! And you know I can’t. I made a promise.”

“Okay, Terran, who in twelve Xh’icani are you talking to?”

I tensed, my head turning to meet Xhen’s glare. “Uh… my tsanista?” I held up Red with a free hand, the device dangling from the end of my necklace. “We’re, uh… ‘linked’ or whatever. They’re kind of… alive? It’s hard to explain.”

Xhen narrowed her eyes. She looked even more confused than before.

“It’s… a really long story, okay? Like, super long. My whole life long. But if you give me time, I’ll explain everything. I owe you that much.”

Her face softened some, and I was stuck thinking of how delicate her features looked whenever she wasn’t scowling. She was like one of those renaissance paintings, only more ethereal-looking. The way the light illuminated against her golden brown skin, the pinkish hue of her hair, and the smooth violet markings etched elegantly along her face helped with that. My first impression of her still remains the same; she was like nothing I’d ever seen.

We reached the large, rickety elevator and rode it up to Xhen’s apartment, silent for the first time since we left the parts shop. Though, it looked less like an apartment and more like one of those public storage units. Lifting the heavy metal door, Xhen nodded towards the interior. “Inside.”

It was quite spacious. Very minimalist too. Xhen hardly had any furniture, safe for a bed in the corner and what appeared to be a kitchen space. The rest was empty, telling from its echo. On the other side of the studio was a window large enough to take up a good portion of the wall and overlooked the entire city. The windowsill was decorated with comfortable blankets and pillows, a few books scattered everywhere as well. Above it hanged a dozen little trinkets. Maybe Xhen spent most of her time here. Her bed looked less used than the cushions laid out here.

My attention was immediately drawn away by the sound of banging metal, and my head whirled towards the direction of the noise. Xhen was setting the mech against the wall, supporting it enough to help it stand on both legs.

“You have all the tools you need. If you need any more, don’t hesitate to ask.” She moved in closer, face still as soft as before, though there is an emptiness to her expression. She looked tired. I was too.

“You are free to start now or later. After some rest... it’s getting late.” I glance out the window. The two suns that balanced in the sky were beginning to disappear behind the clouds. I hadn’t even noticed how late it’d gotten.

“Thanks,” I responded softly, turning to look up at her. She nodded, and moved towards the window, settling down on the many pillows and blankets. “Feel free to use my bed if you like. I, um… I never do.” She shrugged gently and stared out the window, taking in the sunset for as long as she could.

I made my way to the free bed in the corner and did my best to make the small mattress comfortable. No pajamas to change into, so my dusty and tattered sweats would still have to suffice. I laid down and wrapped the blanket around me, still watching Xhen as she peered down at the world. And before I knew it, my eyes had fallen shut, and my mind slipped away into the land of dreams. Dreaming of home. My family, my friends, my dogs. Dreaming of happier times.

Five Ulterian days of straight work. And finally, I was making my last finishing touches on the mech.

It was new and improved. A beast made for speed, mobility, and durability. I added more joints on the limbs for more flexibility, beefed up the metal armoring for better protection too. The legs were now capable of jet-boosted flight and arms were now equipped with projectile launchers. I would’ve gone with lasers, but rockets was all the shop owner—whose name I still haven’t learned—was willing to supply us with. He has a surprising amount of belief in us. A belief in me. It felt good.

In my time working on the robot, I got to learn more about Xhen. I thought it’d be hard, getting her to open up to me, but she more than obliged, answering every one of my biting questions. Maybe she wasn’t as dark-and-mysterious as I originally thought… or maybe there wasn’t much for her to hide anyway.

She never met her parents. She was instead raised in an orphanage that trained fighters, most meant to be sold off to the military once they were of age. Others that were unfit were simply… “discarded” as Xhen so kindly put it. But I knew what she really meant. Xhen, however, was able to escape both fates and become a ‘chaser’—her official job title. People who found work wherever they could and did whatever was asked of them by their clients. They worked mostly as mercenaries and bounty hunters, although many do some cargo and escort jobs as well. Like her current job with retrieving the hildar.

Xhen doesn’t have many hobbies outside of her duties. She does like to read, but hasn’t finished a single book she owns. She likes travel, but is only able to travel for work. And her skill with language is the most impressive I’ve ever seen in anyone. She taught me a bit of all 37 of her known tongues. And I taught her a 38th. In her free time, she plans to study more Japanese.

I also learned Xhen isn’t particularly fond of ‘she’. Or at least, not always.

“In Talur, there are several gendered expressions,” she stated, “But I tend to go between all of them… no one has ever stuck for me.” She shrugged, crossing her arms and staring down at her feet. She looked almost... nervous admitting this to me. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen her. Even speaking about her childhood didn’t put her in such a state.

I listened and nodded, then smiled at her, hoping it offered some comfort. “Are there any pronouns you’d prefer I call you? I know exactly zero Talurian languages, but—”

Xhen waved me off nonchalantly. “You needn’t think much of it… but perhaps, in your tongue at least… ‘they’ fits me best?”

“No problem. ‘They’ it is.” I nodded at them with another grin and returned to my work. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a semblance of a smile grace their features. But maybe it was a trick of the light.

I did my best to open up to Xhen too, like I promised. I told her I was Camerian, about how my mother came to Earth to escape Urrali. I talked about my childhood, my powers, my career, how Red and I became… whatever it is we are. A set pair, I suppose. And they listened. Never asking questions, simply… absorbing everything I threw out. It was something I was growing to appreciate about them; Xhen lived a simple life and did what they needed to maintain that simplicity. It could be felt in the atmosphere around them. It was why they were always so sure of themselves, of what direction to take. Almost the exact opposite of me, a walking disaster waiting to happen it seems. Everything about them felt… so simple. It was rather calming. I liked the feeling a bit more than I wished to admit.

One fresh paintjob later, and the mech was officially done. It was better than I could have ever dreamed. More streamlined and modern than the bulky dinosaur we carted in earlier. I sighed happily, gushing at my own excellent work. But then I caught Xhen’s expression. Their brows were knitted together, tense as they studied the newly polished machine.

“Oh, come on… what now?” I whined, my shoulders dropping as I pouted at them.

They looked towards me, their face unchanged, “It’s small… how will you fit in?”

I grinned. “Simple: I’m not going to.”

From behind the mech I pulled out a large control panel, almost like a fightstick but with far more complicated controls. Controls I had no problem learning and memorizing over the past few days.

“Technically, there isn’t a rule stating that I’m required to be in the mech. It’s just assumed. So they can’t penalize me for it. See, Red? Just like a video game. Have some faith.”

Red deadpanned. [ Of course. How foolish of me. ]

Xhen studied the controller in my hand, eyes flickering back and forth between me and the device, saying nothing.

My smile fell, and my face turned more serious. “Xhen? I need you to trust me. And to back me up on this. I promise I can do this.”

Their eyes stayed on me this time, their face attenuating in the way I always liked seeing. “I trust you.”

The smile that came to my face was wider and warmed than the one before. I nodded towards them. “Let’s do this then.”

[ Let’s not forget that my life is on the line here. ]

I rolled my eyes and mumbled, “No one has forgotten, Red.”

The stadium. It’s massive. Bigger than any stage I’d ever stood on. And it was packed full of zealous fans eager to watch machines rip each other to shreds.

Suddenly I was feeling nervous.

Perhaps it was the atmosphere. Just stepping inside, you could feel the entire vibe shift in the room. From the colorful, quirky charm of the Western Zhu’drak streets to grimy underbelly of the city’s hidden death battle scene.

Beneath the seating of the arena was where most of the competitors convened, working on their mechs and making improvements wherever they deemed necessary. If you asked me, a lot of these mechs needed more than just a quick polish or a tightened bolt here and there. But I remained silent, only because of the looks I was getting. They threw scowls in our direction. I heard some huffs, some scoffs, and saw plenty of side eyes. One guy even spit at my feet, which startled me, causing me to move closer to Xhen and link an arm around theirs. They didn’t seem to mind much.

I wasn’t sure of the reason for such hostility. Maybe they knew I was “fresh meat.” Or were jealous of the shiny new mech I had in tow. The mech walked on its own, guided in the right direction by the joystick on my control panel. It had a new coat of paint: a crimson red that matched my hair. And on the back was written, in large Talurian lettering, the name of the shop owner: “Dan.”

Even I had a new look to premiere. Xhen traded my tattered sweats for some fresh, clean clothes. A plain white shirt that hugged my figure, and tactical leather pants, complete with straps, buckles, and pockets to hold anything I would need, along with a matching brown jacket. The shoes weren’t too bad either, although they fit a little snug for my liking. Despite this, the new clothes had me feeling renewed and more confident, ready for whatever the day threw at us. I wouldn’t let my nerves get me down.

We approached the tall counter, where plenty of players were lined to register. My nerves started to settle the longer we waited in line. This felt just like one of my tournaments. A different game in a different scene, but still very much the same. Sticking with this mindset kind of helped to keep me focused.

Once we approached the front, I looked up to meet the face of the registrar. She was an old, lanky woman with a permanent scowl. She didn’t even look in our direction.

“U-um, excuse me,” I spoke up, keeping my voice nice and sweet, “We’re here to regist—”

“Umivarrki rrimoorva saalmnarr,” She stated bluntly, holding out a digital tablet with names listed in holographic letters.

“Check for your name,” Xhen guided, but I was at a loss. I still wasn’t good with the script.

“Umm… which one is…”

Xhen sighed and pointed to a name on the list, spelling out M-I-U aloud. They checked the name and handed it off to the lady behind the desk, who simply grunted and gestured for us to enter the arena.

“Thank you, ma’am.” I bowed gently and followed Xhen inside, Dan’s mech following closely behind.

The energy shifted once again the moment we entered the arena. From thick tension to exhilaration. The crowd roared loudly as they all spectated the ongoing fight. And what I saw before was better than anything I ever expected.

Metal banged and skidded against each other loudly as the machined duked it out. It was like a dance, more rigid and robotic compared to the elegance and sharpness in Xhen’s fighting. There was more roughness, more edge that made simply watching the brawl feel visceral and alive.

I was on the edge of my seat, and I hadn’t even started fighting yet.

Xhen touched my shoulder, leaning in to tell me something over the noise of the arena. “I’m going to talk to the announcer,” they pointed to the jumbotron overhanging the ring, “You’re next.”

I looked up and gulped, seeing the lettering M-I-U at the top of the list of names.

No nerves. Not now. Shake it off.

Xhen left, and I sat with Dan’s mech as close to the arena as I could be. I watched as the larger mech tore his smaller opponent to shreds. The pilot crawled out of the destroyed bot. It looked like his leg—or legs—were broken from the series of heavy impacts. Once he was carried out on a stretcher, the victor showboated around the ring.

I looked up to see Xhen arguing with the announcer, about me not manning the mech, no less. But as promised, they were backing me up. They whispered something into the announcer’s ear, and I saw his face drain ghostly white. All the clues as to what Xhen most likely said were written clearly all over his face.

Okay, maybe they were backing me up a little too much. But I still appreciated it.

“ZHU’DRAAAAK! IMILI VA’RAK KOOOOONNTA’AANIIIIII… MIUUUUUUU!!! VAR’MILNA KILI—Eh…" He turned to ask Xhen something, and Xhen looked down at me shouting, “What’s the name of your mech??”

“Uhh… ‘Dan’s Mech’?”

They rolled their eyes and repeated it to the announcer, who nodded and continued with the introduction.

“VAR’MILNA KILI… DAAAAAN’S MEEEECH!”

I inhaled, then exhaled, then walked the mech into the ring.

“Showtime.”

My bot was considerably smaller compared to the previous winner’s massive, hulking beast of a fighter. So small it barely reached its hip in height, and my opponent wasted no time in teasing poor Dan’s Mech.

“Xh’imdri cota’lli um’drikk? Semta’vri mo!” He chucked and jeered, turning away to work up the crowd, who joined him in his mockery.

Idiot.

While he was distracted by my size, I pressed a few keys, and my controller emitted a holographic screen: a first-person view of what my mech could see, complete with the necessary information on fuel, the durability of my shields, and a crosshair. What my unfortunate opponent doesn’t realize about his own mech is its very obvious flaws; the joint at one of its knees made a questionable noise every time he merely walked on it. The very foundation of his mech was faulty, and falling apart, and the joint could easily be undone with the slightest impact. But I’m not “slight.”

Dan’s Mech aimed its arm directly at the knee joint. I fired a rocket, and just like that the leg was blown off completely. All that was left of it were scattered shards of metal.

My opponent’s taunts were cut short when, without warning, they fell forward. I surged towards him, and with one swift movement, Dan’s Mech’s arm shifted from a launcher to an elongated blade, and quickly removed both of the mech’s arms. With its free hand, it pulled the pilot out of his seat and tossed him out of the ring.

There was a long, pregnant silence. But I sat with the largest grin on my face, watching as the loser crawled away in the same miserable fashion. Only difference being I was nice enough to leave both his legs intact.

[ Oh my. ]

“You should trust me more~.” I beamed.

After a while, the cheering returned, and the battles raged on. Each one was more different than the last, but I had no problem adjusting. Everyone had a fighting style that was easy to read thirty seconds into the match. And no matter which opponent it was, I was always too fast for them, too quick with my thinking. They were easily outmaneuvered, outgunned, or simply overwhelmed by how well Dan’s Mech could fight. I felt pride swelling inside me with every victory, and with every boisterous uproar as the crowd chanted, “Dan’s Mech! Dan’s Mech! Dan’s Mech!”

From the corner of my eye, I could even see Xhen smiling proudly. I smiled too, and felt my face go all warm.

There were sweeping away the remnants of my last opponent’s mech when the cheering got even louder. I looked around to see if maybe the next unlucky guy was approaching, hence the sudden excitement. Maybe he was some big shot. The John Cena of Crusher tournaments, or something.

But I saw no one.

I looked up at the jumbotron to see there was only one name listed at the top, spelled in the letters M-I-U.

“I… I won?! I mean, holy shit, I WON!”

I shot up from my seat, my controller hitting the ground as I started jumping and waving my arms in the air. The elation could be felt all around the room. From the roaring of the crowd to the announcer’s loud calls, it was like no victory I’d ever had. And to think I started doubting myself for a while. I wanted to say it was a miracle, but it wasn’t. I won on my own, based on my own skill. And that’s always a good feeling.

But I guess it couldn’t last, could it?

From the crowd, a man rose to his feet, his eyes shot blood red, breathing heavily out his nose. I could see from here the blade he had fashioned at his side. And the image became clearer once he started running for me.

“Vhish’lar!” He shouted, “Vhish’lar! Vhish’lar!”

“What does that…”

[ It means ‘Cheater’. ]

Xhen was already starting towards him once he pulled the blade from its sheath. Deftly, they unarmed him and had him pinned to the stands. People were screaming, running away from the quickly ended fight.

I wish they didn’t run. I wish Xhen stayed near me instead of causing all the panic. I wish they hadn’t made it so easy for another man swiftly move behind me, unnoticed, brandishing a small blade of his own. He grabbed me, and before I could think to defend myself, that very blade buried itself into my side 3 times.

It wasn’t until I screamed, until the surge of electricity shot through my skin to dissuade my attacker, until Red began to encase in a sphere of protection, that I saw Xhen running towards me, leaping and pushing through the crowd while they shouted my name.

But it was too late.

Once again, everything went black.

#p: kalar

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 4 ⋮ Kalar // Chapter 3

Mission: Trade ♪ - PYLOT / Welcome

So. The hildar.

It’s an alien bomb.

I unearthed it back when I was living in Seoul. Came across it after a night of celebrating with friends. I felt it pulsating, calling out to me. It looked as powerful as it felt; a smooth, metallic bar for the grip with two glowing green orbs at each end. Curiosity led me to taking it home, pulling the thing apart, and having a very awkward exchange with a friend after I accidentally set it off. The blast was contained, all thanks to Red and my own quick reflexes. Minimal damage was done, both to my apartment building and to my friendship, though it did reveal things about me I’ve tried to keep hidden my whole life.

Only one thing perplexed me, however: the bomb was Camerian in origin. Who the hell had access to a powerful weapon from a dead, alien culture?

Fast forward to now, where the answer was sitting right in front of me.

Or rather… crouched over me.

I groaned, my eyes blinking open to take in my surroundings. Last I remember, I was freefalling out of the sky in the deathly grip of my assailant. Now, I was in a vast expanse of nothingness. An empty desert of nothing but dying shrubs and roseate sands being wisped around by the heavy winds to create a cloudy haze of sediment. And above me was my beautiful assassin, still holding me tight in her grip, still glaring at me with an anger hotter than a thousand suns.

She yanked me up from where I was laying. I yelped and squirmed against her grasp as I was pulled violently onto my feet. God, I could tell she wanted to punch me. But instead, she released me with a disgruntled and heavy sigh, moving instead to pace slowly back and forth, kicking a dry stone as hard and as far away as she could.

“Xhu’dricc imi lu’vi! Al vit’sas semn’al hildar.”

[ You used the last charge on her transporter. She’ll never be able to retrieve the hildar. ]

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, there’s no hildar to fi–” I paused, blinking. “Red, how did you…”

[ I am familiar with 6 of the 14 Talurian tongues. ]

“What’s a Talurian?”

“Are you done conversing with yourself?”

I froze, jaw tightening shut as I stared back at her in disbelief. She quirked her brow, almost impatient for my response, and my expression was quickly replaced with a look of annoyance.

“You spoke English this entire time?”

“I know a few Terran tongues, yes. It helps with my work.” She moved closer, looming over me with a cold gaze. I stared back, trying my best to look just as tough—but not too tough, I didn’t want to get my ass kicked again. “Now… what do you mean by ‘there is no hildar’?”

The ice in her voice, coupled with her intimidating stance and the unsettling stillness of her gaze, was enough to send a shiver down my spine. My “tough” exterior broke almost immediately, and my arms fell to my sides. I felt small. “I-I, uh,” I started, the words failing me. “I sort of, kind of… broke it..? As in… it exploded. On accident. Oops…?”

I saw the corner of her eyes twitch. She was mad. Not that she wasn’t already, but this was a fury you could feel simply radiating off her. I braced myself for the impact of her fist against my face again, but instead she breathed heavily through her nose and started in the other direction.

Her gait was fast and with intent; very hard to keep up with. I shouted after her, waving my arms, “Hey… hey! You’re just gonna leave me here?!”

“Yes.”

I winced at the terse response. That did it. Now I was mad. I was chasing after her now, eventually reaching her and tugging her arm hard enough to make her stop and shoot a glare at me.

“Hey!” I shouted again, more anger in my voice this time, “You were stalking me for days. You attacked me in my own home. And now you’re gonna leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere? In a foreign place? I have no idea where I am! I have no idea how to get home, and the least you can do, after everything you’ve put me through over this fucking bomb that no one should have in the first place, is help me!”

She scowled at me, her indignation now far more apparent in her expression. “It’s because of you that I have nothing to return to my client,” she hissed. “Why should I help you when you’re the source of all my problems?”

[ Fair point. ]

“Enough.” I wanted to scream. This entire situation was too infuriating. But if I wanted to get out of here, if either of us wanted a solution to our predicament, we had to work together.

…Right?

I exhaled, “If I build you another one, will you help me get back home?”

Her brows knitted together as she regarded me, “And how do you suppose you’ll do that?”

I shrugged, “You seem to be a trader of sorts, right? Get me the right parts and I can rebuild one for you. I got a pretty good look at the one I, uh… broke. I’m sure I can make you another.” I nodded.

Her eyes narrowed. I could tell she still distrusted me, which made her response even more surprising. “I will… see what I can do.”

“You will?!” I said with a bit too much elation in my voice. I reigned my excitement in a bit, clearing my throat, “I mean… cool.” I gave a short nod of my head. “It’s a deal.”

She rolled her eyes, yanking her arm away as she began walking again. “Come. Western Zhu’drek is not far from here. We’ll need to get supplies for you.”

I nodded and followed alongside her with a gallant stride, but then paused, biting my lip. “Wait,” I asked softly, pulling her arm gently to stop her. She watched curiously as I removed Red from around my neck and threw them out on the desert sand. They unfolded and grew in size as I shaped and fashioned my tsanista into a motor bike. It was something I was familiar with, so the formation came easy, though with slight cosmetic changes. The wheels shifted sideways and began blowing out enough fire and air to keep it afloat. The bike was hovering off the ground. A risky, new design for me. But I was more than happy with it.

I walked over to the bike and hopped on, turning the handle to rev its engine. “We’ll get there faster on this. Just show me the way.” I tilted my head, gesturing her over. She still eyed me incredulously before slowly approaching and hopping on herself, her arms wrapped securely around my waist. Then we were off.

“I’m Miu, by the way.”

“You may call me Xhen.”

“Okay, Xhen. So… where are we, anyway? I mean, I know we’re a ways from Tokyo, but where exactly… is this place?”

“I believe we’re in western Talur.”

“Western… Talur…?”

[ Talur is the southernmost continent of Ulteria. ]

The statement left me stunned; I almost stopped our ride right in its tracks. And I swear I felt my heart freeze over in that moment.

Holy. Shit.

“WHAT?!”

The reality of my situation still hit me like a bullet train. So it was true. I was on Ulteria. I was standing, existing, on the very planet my mother was born on.

And, God, it was beautiful.

Western Zhu’drak looked like something straight out of Deus Ex. Tall, shanty buildings that scraped the sky, interwoven and connected by bridges and street signs with advertisements written in a script that looked, oddly enough, incredibly similar to Klingon. Cars and bikes hovered overhead and down every busy street and alleyway, which were lined with rustic shops and izakayas. People of all shapes and sizes littered the sidewalks. Most of them had mechanical prosthetics; robotic limbs, metal in their heads, enhanced eyes or ears. It was like… and alien Shinjuku. Something from a cyberpunk fever dream. And I loved every bit of it.

Xhen, despite her hostile introduction and being a woman of few words, was surprisingly quite kind and patient with me as she guided us through the city. While I’m sure this kindness merely stemmed from her desire to have me make her a bomb and be done with me, I still appreciated that she entertained and even answered all my burning questions.

“How long are the days here?”

“By Terran standards, I believe them to be 36 hours.”

“Is Xhen your full name?”

“You would not be able to pronounce my full name, Terran.”

“How far is Camer from here?”

“Northeast. No one goes there.”

“Why not?”

“Dangerous.”

“…The Process?”

“Yes…”

“Mm… how many ‘tongues’ can you speak?”

“37.”

“Wanna learn 38?”

“Do not flirt with me, Terran.”

“I wasn’t fli— …okay.”

Silence eventually fell between us. We visited a few more shops; Xhen bought something dead that she planned to cook and eat later, and for me she bought a basket of various fruits I couldn’t pronounce the names of.

We approached the final shop of the day. I moved to enter, but Xhen held the door’s handle and eyed me carefully. “Look quickly. And hope that he has what you need, Miu. Otherwise, we’re both fucked.”

I gulped and nodded at her, “I’ll do my best.”

Swinging the door open, I am instantly taken by the look of the shop. There were trinkets simply everywhere. Filling the shelves, covering the walls, even some hanging from the ceiling. Springs and wires and glass-blown jars. Everything you could imagine, in a variety of colors, shapes, and sizes.

It was a parts shop.

I immediately start rummaging through the aisles while Xhen went to converse with the shop owner. A man three times her size and perhaps twice her age, robust and brawny. His skin was a pinkish hue, though you could barely see it underneath the plethora of tattoos that inched every part of his body, safe for his face. The only markings there were similar to the ones Xhen’s face had. Two purple lines painted straight down from crown to chin, and an upturned crescent at the center of his forehead. He spoke lowly, caressing the gray stubble of his shaven beard as he listened carefully to Xhen. There was a moment where he glanced up at me, and I darted my head away, returning my attention to the items on the shelves.

The hildar was painted perfectly in my mind. A clear and detailed schematic, complex but simple to follow. I knew exactly what I’d need to recreate it. Deftly, I grabbed every needed item off the shelves and threw them into my basket, now empty having eaten the strange fruit on the way here. After a few moments of browsing, then double and triple checking to make sure I had what I’d need, I nodded in satisfaction. This was… most of everything. All that was left was…

“I need the orbs.” I stated, returning to Xhen’s side. “Does he have any…?”

Xhen was looking thoroughly annoyed. She rolled her eyes at him and looked down at me. “He does.”

“Great! Let’s—”

“He won’t trade with us.”

I frowned deeply. “But why?”

The large shop owner grunted and peered down at me with a scowl. “Neither of ye have enough to afford the gems in this here shop,” he said with a thick, gravelly voice. He reached over the counter with a large, heavy hand and snatched the basket away before I could protest. “Now get ye asses outta here before I throw ya out!”

“Sir, please—”

“I said get!” He slammed his fist and pointed at the door.”

Xhen sighed deeply and started for the door. I frowned. I wasn’t ready to give up yet. I couldn’t give up yet. Not when I needed to help Xhen if I wanted to get home. My eyes wander everywhere, looking for something, anything, that could help win the asshole over.

And that’s when I spotted it. Just behind the counter, in the backroom of the shop.

“Sir?”

He glared at me, “Didn’t I tell ye to—”

“I know. And I’m sorry, but… one question. What’s that mech you got over there?”

He swallowed his next rant, glancing over to the large, mechanical bot in the backroom, then back at me. “That old thing? I used to use ‘em in the crusher tournaments over at Ton’ruk Core. Those were the days...” He sighed, looking off to the side. “They’re behind me now though. He’s not the only thing’s busted. Controls too. Besides, I ain’t no good at fighting these days. Too old to keep up with the younger ones…”

Oh, this just got interesting.

“’Crusher tournaments’? Tell me more.” I put on my sweetest smile and batted my lashes, looking genuinely curious, feigning innocence.

“Eh, well…” he began, “They’re one-on-one fights. Fighters pilot their mechs n’ duke it out. Winner take all. The ‘all’ being the parts of the loser’s piece uh shit bot.” He grunted a small laugh. “It’s a level playing field. Any sucker who can maneuver the damn things has a shot.”

Very interesting.

I hummed and propped my chin up with my hand, giving the man a coy grin. “What if I were to say… those days weren’t behind you?”

His eyes narrowed, “What are ye on about?”

“What if… I fix old guy up for you… and compete in the crusher battles?”

“Miu—” I heard Xhen behind me begin to protest, but I cut her off.

“If I win, under your good name of course, you give us all our supplies along with the hildar orbs for free.”

“Hrm…” His eyes narrowed even more, and he leaned in close, “And if ye lose? And my ‘good name’ is sullied and in the dirt ‘cause of ya?”

My jaw tightened, not letting my confident exterior fade this time. I needed those supplies. I needed those orbs. And if these battles are exactly like I think they are…

Then it was a risk worth taking.

I took red from around my neck, holding them high. “I’ll give you this.”

The shop owner examined it, “What is…”

“It’s a tsanista. One of the last in existence. If I lose, you can have it.”

Xhen tugged firmly on my arm, grabbing my attention. She shook her head. And Red protested loudly in my head. But I didn’t budge on my decision.

“So what do you say?”

The shop owner, now slackjawed and in awe of the object I held in my hand, a device that symbolized immense power and prestige, broke out of his stupor and straightened, clearing his throat. “...Ye got yerself a trade, missy.”

He held out his massive hand, and I set my smaller one in his palm. His fingers clasped over it in a firm shake. I matched his grin.

“Deal.”

#p: kalar

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 4 ⋮ Kalar // Chapter 2

Mission: Evade ♪ - Zamilska / Rise

TW: stalking, harassment, assault, violence.

The first time was over two years ago.

It was at a convention. One of my firsts. He was there too, a so-called “super fan” that had previously bombarded my chat with a series of invasive, objectifying comments, which later dissented into death and rape threats when I refused to respond. It’s easy to ignore “trolls” when they aren’t in your face. But when the threat became real, there was no running away from it. Because he wouldn’t let me run.

He cornered me, asked me why I never responded to him, why I bothered showing up. His grip on my arm and wrists were too strong for me to break out of. I couldn’t walk away without him pulling me back.

And what’s worse… I was paralyzed. Too scared to yell for help, or shout at him to get off me. I could only stand there, quivering and staring down at my sneakers, silently praying that he’d go away, that the worst wouldn’t come. If onlookers hadn’t stepped in and had him removed, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. I spent the rest of the event in complete silence, feeling stupid and humiliated. Nothing was fun anymore. I only wanted to go home.

The second time, well… I’ve told the story before. Another obsessed man looking to hurt me, this one making it into my home... I try not to relive it.

I don’t know which was worse. The kind of fear that left me stunned, silent, and powerless, or the kind that made me kick and scream until my throat was burning. Until every cell in my body was on fire.

The kind that left a man dead, turned to ash, on my bedroom floor.

Or maybe it was this kind. The kind where your greatest fear is unseen. The kind that leaves you paranoid, restless, and pushing away everyone that cares about you. Because that’s where I was now. I hadn’t slept for days. I was afraid to leave the house; didn’t leave much unless I absolutely needed to. I was an asshole to my friends, especially to the ones closest to me. They were only trying to be there for me, and I shoved them away, harshly and coldly. It weighed heavy on me, how I must’ve made them feel. So much that it was practically suffocating.

But it was better they didn’t see me like this. An angry, frightened mess. A person about to do the unthinkable because she felt it necessary.

I was going to kill my stranger.

I didn’t need to think on this decision much. Frankly, I was tired. Tired of this always happening to me. Tired of being a target for abuse. Ever since that night at the bar, I’d been on edge. They were still following me, their presence enough to jolt me out of my sleep and leave me panicked. It became harder to sleep, to eat, to do anything without thinking I was being watched. Part of me hoped none of this was real and I was imagining it all, that this was all some sort of nervous breakdown as a result of my past experiences. PTSD bubbling to the surface.

But it wasn’t. Because here they were, here we were, standing on my rooftop.

I had abruptly ended my phone call with a very concerned friend the moment I felt their presence again. Just as strong, if not stronger, than before. They were close, so close it consumed me. I wasn’t running this time. No fear, no screaming for help. Whoever, or whatever, this was, I would face it head on.

I flew to the roof, staring my stranger down with just as heavy a glare. I’ll admit it, she was striking. Like nothing I’d ever seen. The way the moonlight cascaded down her face, illuminating the sharpness of her features in a way that made her look both alluring and threatening. Violet lines ran down her face. Two beneath her white eyes and down her cheeks, and another straight across the bridge of her nose. Messy rose-gold hair fell down her broad shoulders. Her arm… it was mechanical. Perhaps the reason her electrical field read so strong to me. The rest of her was lean, muscular, and tall. Her eyes read with intent. Like a hunter locked on its prey.

My tsanista was in my hand the moment she charged forward. She was quick – very quick. I only managed to block every fast jab and kick by fashioning Red into armor, but it did little to cushion the blows. She was powerful; strong enough that even indestructible Ulterian steel wasn’t enough to stop her from hurling me backwards with one kick to the side. I somersaulted through the sky before I was able to steady myself. I’d never been more thankful for my flight than I was in that very moment.

I rushed back down towards her, trying desperately to land a strike, or hit her with any weapon I could think to conjure Red into, or even pin her down. No use. She was quicker than me, stronger than me, and had the training and efficiency to easily outmaneuver whatever I threw at her. She dodged, parried, and countered every one of my weak attacks. I wasn’t a fighter. Even with these powers I was nothing compared to her, the mysterious assassin sent to ruin my life.

I was on my back now, writhing and groaning, before she planted her heavy boot on my chest. I struggled against the force to no avail. I couldn’t get free. There was no evading the intense look that etched her features as she glared at me.

“Umba’k il xhi’cal min hildar?”

She spoke the foreign words harshly, her voice husky and deep. I blinked up at her, paused in my straining. “I-I don’t—”

[ She wants the hildar. The bomb. ]

“The wha… oh shi—”

Another hard smack against my cheek and her foot lifted away from my chest. She leaned down to grab a fistful of my shirt and pull me from the ground, her face much closer now. “Hildar! Min hor’xhac ka hildar!”

I knew exactly what she was talking about. But at this point, I didn’t care what she wanted. I didn’t feel anything for her except anger. My fear had dissipated long ago and was replaced with nothing but raw, unadulterated rage; a rage that culminated from my chest, down the length of my arms to my fingertips, past my hair and through my eyes. Everything glowed. Every part of me was surrounded by an aura of bright, hot, electrical power. And I sent all of that energy surging forward.

It was enough to blast us both into the air, her iron grip on me still unwavering despite how much I saw her struggle against the intense power being emitted from my very skin. I struggled to break free as well, hitting against her chest and kicking my legs wildly. We were freefalling, a streak of lightning dancing across the sky.

And falling back to Earth.

Panicked, I tugged violently against her arm, then her waist. My hand found something against her belt, cold and smooth. She shouted in protest. I could here Red inside my head warning me. But I couldn’t hear either of them anymore.

I squeezed. I pressed something.

And then all that light, all that heat and energy.

My panic, my fear, my anger.

All of me.

It all went black. Faster than a flash of lightning.

#p: kalar

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 4 ⋮ Kalar // Chapter 1

Mission: Observe ♪ - Son Lux / Labor

For dear life, I held onto that hand. Well, as much of her hand as I could. My hands were only so large, I could only hold three fingers at a time. And still, I squeezed, hoping somehow this burgeoning fear wouldn’t rise to the surface and bubble over in the form of crying and wailing throughout the halls.

My very first day of school. And I was already an anxiety-ridden mess.

I squeezed her hand tighter, hoping she could somehow feel my fear, that she could take it away and offer me some of the strength she never seemed to be without. Instead she glanced down at me, a trembling child on the verge of a tantrum. Her gaze was piercing, even with the contacts hiding their natural silver color behind mahogany brown. It was enough to still me, replacing my fear of being alone in a new place with fear of her reprimand had I lost control. Only a moment later had her look softened, and she lowered herself to my level, crouching and staring me in the eyes.

“What’s wrong?” She asked plainly, her voice monotone and her face unchanging. And my trembling began again, shakiness in my tiny voice as I answered. A child’s fear so easily apparent on my face and in my voice. “I-I…. I don’t wanna go… I wanna go home.” My voice was barely more than a whimper, shifting side-to-side as I continued, “I wanna be with you, and Daddy, and Obaachan… I won’t get to see Mitsuo, or Daichi... I won’t see anybody. I’m all by myself, and I don’t wanna be!”

Tears prickled from my eyelids, a few breaching and running down my round, reddened cheeks. She merely sighed, taking my face in her hands and wiping my cheeks clean, “You are strong, Cira,” the name, the one she only used in private, was enough to let me know she was sincere. “You can survive the day. I know you can. And when it’s over, I’ll be here.”

Her hands move to lift mine, holding them upward and smoothing my palms with her thumbs. She did this often to soothe me, and it always worked. Even now.

“You are never alone. And you won’t be today either. Just… try to have a good day? Don’t stay hidden in that shell of yours.” A ghost of a smile pulled at the corner of her lips, and she ran a hand through my hair. I smiled too, a grin far more manifest. However, it faded immediately upon seeing how serious she had become, her hand holding my head firmly in place.

“Stay in control, understand? What do you do when you’re upset?”

“Close my eyes. Count to 10. Think of you and Daddy.”

She nods, her features attenuated once more as she releases me and stands. I’m handed off to my teacher, a woman with curly red hair and a big, Duchenne smile. I turn to wave goodbye, but I’m only acknowledged in a final glance before she disappeared down the hallway.

Somehow, I’m not afraid anymore.

I wish I knew why all these memories were running through my head. Perhaps it was a symptom of the hour. Nearly 2AM, and the streets of Tokyo were still bustling. And here I was, lost in thought, journeying into the past in hopes that simpler times could offer some form of comfort. Hope that present problems could be amended.

But why this one? Maybe because it was one of the rare moments where my mother had shown some semblance of affection. Easing the fears of a small child, seems like something every parent should know how to do. When it came to my mother, though, such a task was a feat for her. She was the least affectionate person I knew. Or at least, she is now.

I’m only just realizing that our issues run far deeper than my… unpopular decision to move to Japan. And those issues were complicated, a tangled mess of insecurities and unresolved past grievances on both sides. Tension and trauma buried deep, and neither of us willing to be open about it. Instead, we rely on conflict and unjust anger. Pointing a finger at one another until one of us accepts the blame.

Stubborn… perhaps I’m more like my mother than I care to admit.

But enough bemoaning. I came here to get drunk, but after many shots and a few flirtations, I still wasn’t having fun. And I barely felt a buzz, either. Alien biology made that hard. It’s better to go home now than waste another moment on this shitty night.

I left the bar, wishing the girls a good night before heading out and down the sidewalk. At this time of night, it certainly wasn’t safe to travel alone. But I had Red with me. I could feel their soft humming against my chest. That alone made me feel safer.

But then, another sensation, one that made the hairs stand on the back of my neck.

It was both familiar and unfamiliar. Familiar in that I knew exactly what the sensation was. Bioelectric fields given off by all living things was something I could passively sense. Everyone around me could be easily located by the electromagnetism of their own bodies. Unfamiliar in that I this came from a person I did not know, and I could tell. And this one was stronger than any I’d ever felt, and it was close.

And getting closer.

I whipped my head around, mind quickly pulling Red from my neck and bracing them around my wrist in case I needed to act quickly. But nothing was there.

My eyes narrowed, still scanning the area. But I saw nothing, and the sensation died. Whatever, or whoever, it was, they were gone.

Reluctantly, I turned and continued home, slow and cautious. Still wary of everything around me. I made it back safely, though not with peace of mind.

I went inside and locked the door quickly, checking the windows before I sat on the living room couch, silently petting an already sleeping Link. Someone was following me. And until I know who, and why, I wouldn’t rest. I couldn’t.

Not after the last time… never again.

I sat there all night, hoping my paranoia would be enough to keep me awake. Hoping that morning would come fast.

#p: kalar

[miu-paras]

miupewpew-archive >>> miu-paras

will be posting self paras/one-shots/etc. here

#《 ηρc ♡ out of character 》

[miu-paras]

(( so because i primarily rp on twitter now, i will be revamping miu’s tumblr to act as an “official website” of sorts for all her activities, interviews, schedules, etc. with that said, i’ll also be moving accounts and keeping this one archived for memories.

if you’d like to keep talking to miu, you can follow me on twitter @miuutwo. if you’d like to follow her new blog, you can find us at @miuplays

thank you to everyone who rp’d with her! 💞

#《 ηρc ♡ out of character 》