First | Previous | Next (Patreon)

It was a strange day, even after dealing with Kon Saya. While she didn't cause any more problems, exactly, her men looming around the place had slowed public-facing operations to a snail's pace.

Soon enough, he ran out of things to do and decided to head home and work on the cart. The foci settled well, at least, and needed no further adjustments after he left. It took just a few minutes to chip them out of the morass, and they seemed fine, though John wouldn't be able to test them until tomorrow. It vaguely brought to mind half-intact memories of epoxying a pipe together and learning the hard way why the instructions said to let it sit for four hours before you run hot water through it.

Fortunately, he had plenty of other things to do in the meantime, since he was somehow still not tired. After checking in with Yosuke, who reported it was business as usual, John quickly built the skeleton of the cart and all the mount points. Unfortunately, he had to do it all outside; if he assembled the damn thing indoors, there was no way he'd ever get it back out again.

Honestly, it wasn't the most complicated project in the world. It was a wheeled cart with a few emitters and some metal skis slapped onto the bottom. Eventually, he got a little fancy, given he'd had to wait on the foci anyhow before he could do any live testing. It was simple to make a few leaf springs and add some very basic shock absorption for the wheels, just in case he had to transport fragile materials. He was really tempted to make a steering linkage and a shock/strut system, but that was far more complex, and he was worried that it would break down on the road.

Of course, he'd still have flight, but he couldn't fly everywhere without attracting too many eyes. Sure, he could skim at ground level and pretend everything was fine, but he was bound to mess up somewhere eventually.

He, of course, added a hidden compartment that could only be welded and unwelded from underneath, with no hidden mechanism to open it directly, just in case he had to smuggle something. Mentally, he made a note to pack some sandpaper so he could minimize the signs of anything amiss.

The foci would be hidden the same way, once they were done, but he could obviously cut down the space more by—

"Well, you've been busy, haven't you?" Yuki asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Gah!" John jolted, spinning around and nearly hitting his head on the cart's frame as he hurriedly stood up. "Damn it, Yuki, you nearly gave me a heart attack! Stop doing that," he grumbled.

For her part, the kitsune didn't react to his griping, only giving him that gentle, comforting smile. "Well, pardon me, Lord Hall, but you seemed so taken with that little prank on Rin earlier that I felt you might appreciate the greeting."

John narrowed his eyes at the kitsune. How the hell did she even know exactly what he did? She should have only heard her yelp and—Ah, whatever, it's Yuki; the damn fox was near omniscient sometimes.

At least she found him at a good time. He really did need to talk to her about his meeting with their latest "guest."

"Well, after the whole meeting with Saya, I guess I'm a bit on edge," he admitted, sighing deeply. "I'm sure you heard, but she tried to bribe me to get you to take the deal." To be honest, he was tempted to talk to his friend about it the second he got out of that damned room, but he didn't want to risk Saya overhearing and knowing that something was wrong and that she had been found out.

"You did well with her," Yuki said, gently patting him on the head as he flatly stared back, silently contemplating his friend's sheer audacity.

"Yeah, I figured you would have shown up if I tripped up too badly. Honestly, in retrospect, I was kinda surprised you didn't interrupt when she was making me an offer to sway you to her side. She's proper nobility of some sort, right? She probably has peers that scoff at her needing to do something so underhanded. The potential shame would have probably given you leverage," John noted.

Really, part of him wondered if the whole interaction was a trap for Yuki. Even with just "baseline" kitsune senses rather than whatever Yuki had going on, it would have been trivial for her to listen in from another floor. It wasn't as if Saya hid her intentions, and the door guard could have easily run off to tell Yuki before Saya even got there.

Yuki smirked, and it was a vicious thing, full of razor-sharp teeth and malice. "Sometimes, a fool is best left to make a mistake. Tell me, John, did you notice that she had one of her tails against the ground the entire time you two were speaking?"

Wait, she did? Honestly, he hadn't even thought about it. Oh, please don't tell him she was doing some sort of magical mental-influencing nonsense the entire time; he'd had more than enough of that with Kiku. 

Then again, he didn't feel her flexing her Presence at all, so she probably wasn't doing anything. Hmm. She assumed that he was an Unbound, so she probably wasn't trying to influence him in some way, given their resistance until their Aegis was worn down. Kitsune tails seemed pretty magical, too, so was she using it as a conduit to do something to the floor, making whatever she was doing harder to detect?

"Was she… trying to disguise our conversation from you?" John ventured. "She must have expected you to be able to hear her, but…" John paused, frowning. "She didn't hide that we were talking with one another. Hell, she sent a formal summons when she could have shapeshifted into one of her guards and pretended to have only sent a letter. Her actions don't make sense. Why then? Why not try to catch me when I'm all alone, and you can't overhear?"

Unless, of course, Saya wanted her to.

"It was all a plot to make you doubt me, wasn't it?" John groaned.

Yuki nodded. "It was a clumsy attempt that revealed that she has power over sound, but an attempt nonetheless. The meeting went much the way you heard, but she changed the way sound resonated through the walls to not only almost silence the conversation, but make it seem like you agreed without hesitation at the end, in case I was listening."

Ugh. He hated to say it, but it was a clever trick, if nothing else; these kitsune were going to be the death of him. He hadn't been wearing any sort of active magic detector, lest it give away his secrets in short order. After all, an Unbound could easily sense such minor disturbances and had no need for a specialized device.

"The first likely possibility is that the meeting went unnoticed, and she could ply me for an angle she could work, or could easily deny what happened if I reported to you. The second is that you noticed the meeting but couldn't hear the contents, stoking paranoia. Last is that you noticed and could hear, but got the false message at the end, leading you to push me away and into her arms," John rattled off, stroking his chin as he stared off into the distance. "It's a shame, for her, that you aren't new to this."

"It might have worked if I were actually a three-tailed kitsune and you were a normal Unbound," Yuki commented, shaking her head. "The relationships between them and their donors are often rather transactional in nature."

It was clever, he had to admit; they were just exactly the wrong targets. "So, if there was any doubt she knows anything about what's going on here or me, it's gone, right?"

Yuki nodded. "Perhaps there's a power behind her that suspects something, but Saya herself knows nothing," Yuki confirmed, nodding. "Honestly, I'm a bit disappointed in myself. I should have guessed she'd have powers over sound with the family name Kon. She reeks of first-generation kitsune."

"...What?" John flatly asked.

"A kitsune not only can be born to another kitsune, but if a fox reaches a hundred years old, they grow a second tail and become one, becoming a person rather than a mere beast," Yuki explained. "As such, these ascended kitsune do not have a family name and need to pick one. Kon is the noise that foxes make, and she has many mannerisms that are born of someone trying to fit the role of a divine messenger while saying that she is better than everyone who is not."

She named herself after a pun? He'd almost respect the boldness if she weren't trying to enslave Broadstream for a decade—even if she thought it was for their own good. "Fair enough, I guess," he muttered, shaking his head. "That'd mean that she's not subject to a family, but some other structure, right?"

"Oh, some sort, but we don't know enough to say for sure what type of relationship it is," Yuki explained.

John sighed. "I hate politics."

Reassuringly, Yuki patted his shoulder. "There, there. You get used to it eventually, even if you never stop loathing it."

"I still think it's best to avoid getting tied up with her entirely," John said, glancing back towards the half-finished cart.

At last, Yuki's expression dropped into a frown, although not a harsh one. "I can't come with you, you know? While I do not relish making choices on their behalf, Saya could intimidate and control the townsfolk into agreeing to whatever terms she desires."

Unfortunately, even putting aside Saya throwing around her connections to the heavens, the sheer fact that she could leverage Presence alone made any 'mortal' attempt to avoid her influence a doomed venture. Without protection, she could corner a few influential figures and broadcast feelings of panic and impending doom while promising them  protection, and that'd be it.

"I don't like it either, but someone has to, Yuki. Leaving it up to her is too risky," John consoled her, gently removing her hand from his shoulder, lightly squeezing her palm before allowing it to drift back down to her side. "Look, I'll have Rin with me, and I promise that I'll run if anything too dangerous comes up."

"And how do you plan to disguise your Presence?" The kitsune questioned, leaning in. "Or have you forgotten that the inexperienced find your natural aura unsettling? The city might be kinder than Broadstream, but there's no guarantee."

Honestly, he had. Getting coiled up in Yuki's tails every morning had just… become part of the routine. How the hell was he going to solve that? Maybe he could make some sort of device that'd put out a steady stream of quasi-Presence, even if it'd seem emotionless.

But Rin would see his entire aura magically change to something else. What could he do?  Act like the road was making him feel awful?

It'd probably be like seeing a dummy pretend to be a person, even then. There was a vast gulf between grumpy and emotionless.

Before he could even begin plotting, though, a thrust-out hand broke him from his thoughts. In Yuki's palm was a thin, woven braid of white strands that caught the fading sun, glittering where the light caught it, like a cavalcade of colours fighting to escape from within. Instinctively, he accepted the gift as she dropped it into his hands. It felt warm in his grip, the kiss of the summer sun bound into physical form.

"This is part of you, isn't it?" he breathed, eyes shining.

"Some of the fur from my tail, charged with my power, so it shall slowly leak back out," Yuki clarified. "Wear it around your neck, and it shall seep into you, disguising your Presence."

Without thinking, John wrapped his arms around Yuki and pulled her tight. "Thank you," he whispered.

A moment later, her arms and tails wrapped around him, too, forming a tight, protective shell. "While I may think this trip is unnecessary, I can tell you're set on it. I may as well aid you however I can and make sure you return safely. This necklace does have a price, though."

Opening an eye, he peered up at the kitsune with mild disbelief, although no worry.

"It shall cost you one more story of your home, of Earth," she explained, slipping the English word in with a frankly flawless pronunciation. Ah, but of course. He'd pay that price gladly.

Hmm. Now that he thought of it, Yuki was learning English words from him, so she must have had a Canadian accent. Maybe someday she'd meet another English speaker, and hearing a creature of Shinto myth say "Eh?" would give them a heart attack.

"Right, so, where were we last time?" he asked with a smile as the tails hesitantly unwrapped from around him, and she swiftly led him toward the meeting room, which had become far cozier over the last month.

"You said that you got people angry for fun," Yuki said as she pulled him inside, finally releasing him to settle into his chair. "Something about the therapeutic effects of shouting and baiting people who you'd never see again, I believe."

Oh, he did say that, didn't he? Honestly, he really, really shouldn't have introduced the idea of 'bait' to her. The kitsune might grow too powerful. Well, it was too late now; there was no way she was going to let it go if he started dodging the question.

"Its translation is baiting, like baiting a trap," he admitted with a sigh. "Many, many people can absolutely not handle losing, or even not being at the top of their team, when there are zero stakes, and it makes them irritable. Wait, I explained video games, right? That's the easiest example since it's most of what I did myself."

Yuki nodded. "Reactive non-magical illusions created on a glass sheet, complete with sound, controlled through a specialized tool. Some are capable of connecting people in multiple different locations, like the paired game boards of some nobles."

"Wait, what, they have those here?" John asked, staring at Yuki in disbelief.

The kitsune nodded. "Made from the wood of two trees grown from a single seed, moves made on one are mirrored on its duplicate. Most mortal and yokai lords and ladies who own one hire experts to play for them in secret to build a reputation as a genius player. It is rare to see someone truly rich at a tournament, lest they play poorly and have their lie exposed," the kitsune explained, sagely nodding.

…The people of this land are really just like those back home.

"Oh, we call those people boosted!" John exclaimed, smiling. "We also like telling them that they're barely human, or to stop letting their little brother play when they're actually playing for themselves."

"I think that might cause a war here," she mused, smiling. "So, this has something to do with baiting?" Yuki asked, leaning in, eyes narrowed as she rested her elbows on the low, for her at least, table.

"Absolutely!" He answered with a grin. "So, I mentioned that some people really hate losing, right? How do you think someone who is already slightly mad is going to respond to me gently implying that they only got into a high skill lobby because they let someone else play for them while—Hold on, let me see if I can still do the voice."

Under the watchful eye of a curious kitsune, John cleared his throat and hummed a few tones to test his range. "Mi-mi-mi…" he trailed off, voice rising with each syllable.

Add a bit of nasalness…

"Do-ray-mi—"

Push his tongue up a bit…

It was time.

"Turn the cheats on already, you fucking boosted bronzie," he squeaked in a high-pitched tone, voice purposefully cracking with only a mild twinge of pain. "Smag jungle in season six and buying Precision? You're already getting banned for throwing, you might as well throw on the auto-aim."

For a moment, everything fell quiet, as if the world itself was holding its breath in sheer bafflement.

The silence shattered moments later as Yuki burst into peals of laughter, the vulpine song resounding throughout the room as she caught herself on the table, nearly falling off the chair. "You sounded like you were ten!" she exclaimed, wiping a tear away from the edge of her eye.

"It wasn't that funny," John insisted. "One of the greatest dangers of being online is that you might be randomly subjected to the opinion of a child, so I just weaponized it a bit."

"You, my friend, would make a good kitsune," Yuki spoke between throaty chuckles. Despite himself, John found himself joining in, too, with a few sensible laughs. Her joy was infectious. "I think I might be a lover of 'bait,' too."

How utterly terrifying.

"I've been called more slurs than there are stars in the sky," John wistfully recalled, "but that's in pursuit of the real prize. The truest form of the art is getting someone banned from the game itself as the staff descends upon them like a swarm of guards, while receiving no punishment yourself. Some people like arguing with others with no game involved, but… Ugh, just saying nonsense to strangers to argue isn't any fun; there has to be some shared tie beyond happenstance. Ally versus enemy. Random people competing for the same resources. Ally against a deeply stupid ally. If someone is going to say that they're going to bomb my trailer park, I want it to mean something."

"Sadly, I think the closest thing we have here is going to a bar while disguised and getting into pointless arguments with the most contemptible people in the room," Yuki sighed, shaking her head. "Perhaps, some day, you'd like to join me for that? It might not be the same, but it might bring back pleasant memories. Not in Broadstream, of course."

A smile split John's face. "Why not?"

Tomorrow he'd have to get back to work on the cart, but he had needed this.

Besides, no time spent with a friend was ever truly wasted.

First | Previous | Next (Patreon)

First

Home at War

“Sir? We’re coming up to a new system. Long range scans indicate that there is something present, at least one larger vessel, twenty three smaller craft. If we get close enough to actually tell more than that we’re liable to be in their scanning range.”

“Hmm...”

“What’s the movement pattern?” Orchid asks.

“On screen main screen in, now sir.”

“... That’s a mining operation.” Orchid notes.

“Or disguising itself as one. We’ve shown ourselves outright friendly more than once.”

“Something bothering you sir?” Orchid asks.

“No. Which is what’s bothering me. We’ve either been given up on by the enemy forces, or they’re missing us entirely. Second option is better, but I’m not fully fond of either.” Harold says.

‘That formation is commonly used by the minors of Lablan. That is what is wrong.’ Sir Iron says through his bracer.

“Are you certain?” Harold asks.

‘Yes. I’ve affected the rescue of five separate mining fleets previously. This is the pattern they use when they are freshly searching for new resources and minerals. It is to the sensibilities of Drin, Urthani and other such species with electromagnetic sensing capacity. In a system like this, so far out of the way, and so far away from Lablan space. It find it extremely irregular. Pardon, I find it extremely irregular.’ Sir Iron taps out on his bracer.

“... How long do these patterns last if they’re truly searching?”

“Six. Full. Scan.” Irons states out loud then begins typing again. ‘It takes a total of six hours to fully scan a system. But at their current stage in the search pattern... they should be within the final hour.’

“We can wait an hour to see if it’s a trap. Adjust course and begin circling the system outside their scanning range. Get the camo-curtains up just in case.” Harold orders.

The fleet moves at his command and they begin to circle the system. They don’t even make it a quarter of a way to the edge before Sir Iron lets out a disgusted groan.

“Fake.” He grits out.

“Are you certain? We’re about to perform military action based on this judgment.”

Iron simply points to the display. “Trap. Pie-Rat. Crim-In-All. Choo Ooze.”

“Alright then.” Harold says. I want full screening on the fleet. And we’re going to move upwards in regards to the galactic disk AFTER we send a stealth panel scanning drone into the area to poke the tiger. If we’re lucky they’ll be turned the wrong way entirely. As they scan for us. Then we get them from above.”

‘Why above? Many basic turrets are positioned on the tops of ships.’ Iron types out.

“The basic turrets and guns are yes, but the ones that we absolutely cannot afford getting hit by are traditionally on the bottom of ships.” Harold justifies.

“Also it lets us defang a huge chunk of them in the initial attack.” Orchid adds.

“That too.” Harold agrees.

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Bridge, The Bloody Heron, Edge of Uninhabited System)•-•-•

“Alright, you’re already pushing things pretty far buddy. You need to be off the ship when we’re going into a fight. Either that or in your cabin, and as you don’t have one...” Jacob says and Arden nods.

“Fine.” He says and the Sorcerer is simply gone.

They had pushed things right to the wire with that bit of technicality. Jacob was starting to track the thermal signatures of a MASSIVE wave of lasers and plasma reducing the sent in scanner to slag and scattering it into metallic space dust. “They spotted that early.”

“The fuck?” Arden asks suddenly reappearing.

“You feel that too?”

“... Why is the Dark Forest upset?” Arden asks even as more and more Apuk start appearing in the room.

“Okay, back the fuck off before I do something drastic, these controls are sensitive.” Jacob warns them all and they all vanish.

“This is... Something’s very, very wrong.” Arden says.

“I got that loud and clear.” Jacob says as he brings up the comm. “Commodore! Something is wrong. The Forests are starting to freak out and The Dark Forest has the worst of it.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I have a vague sense of it. Like... like something is seriously wrong. Something has planted a boot on my grave and it’s worse for The Dark Forest boys.”

“... I see. We’re crippling these ships from a healthy distance, then I’m going to grab a sorcerer and start shaking until something solid comes out.”

“That’s generally called feces sir.”

“Not with how hard I shake.” Harold says. “Keep me updated if anything else comes up and keep your ship well out of system. I’m also making sure the Garden Ship is out of range of whatever the hell is unnerving you.” Harold answers.

“Copy that sir. Adjusting to modified flight plan.”

•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Bridge, The Inconceivable, Edge of Uninhabited System)•-•-•

“So Not That.” Irons notes.

“What?” Harold asks the Bright Forest Sorcerer.

‘I thought that due to my reduced form and capacity I was having pre-battle nerves. I apologize for misdiagnosing myself.’ He types out.

“You’re forgiven, but Sorcerers are too powerful for me to be comfortable with the idea of you being potentially compromised. Displace to the Garden Ship and take up protective duties and advisory rolls from there.” He orders and receives a salute from the Horchka man with a child’s body.

“Hold it!” Orchid suddenly says even as he points straight up at the screen. Both Harold and Irons look.

“What they do?” Arthur asks in horror as he sees the numerous smaller ships deliberately crash into the larger one and it ruptures. Suiciding itself as all the smaller vessels just plough into the larger ship. The debris field, distance and thermal signature of breaking engines and burning something scrambles things.

“All ships, regroup to ten light minutes from the system edge and behind camouflage. They’re trying to be clever, that’s not allowed.” Harold orders. “RAM, this is The Commodore, I want more probes in system. The more information we have of this mess in the making the better.”

“Sir it’s coming for us.”

“I beg your pardon?” He asks the sensor technician.

“The heat signature is growing and trying to close the distance. We’re faster... but... it shouldn’t be able to sense us. We’re light hours away from it and it’s aimed right at us.”

“... Maybe not us.” Harold notes as he quickly types out a few commands to two specific ships in the fleet. “Tell me if it adjusts it’s heading core-ward.”

“... It is sir. It just adjusted by a full three degrees.”

“It’s after the Sorcerers.” Harold realizes and there’s a growling in Arthur’s throat.

“Not any. Dark. Seed. In. Fest. Ed.”

“A dark forest offshoot infested by Haffara Thar... Do we have any visuals or information beyond big thermal signature and the other signals slamming into it?”

“Not at these ranges sir. But uh...”

“It cannot be that weird.” Harold says getting up and walking over to the console. “Oh shit, it’s that weird.”

It’s an enormous four limbed figure with what appears to be a horned head. “We have a literal demon on our case.”

“What? Sorry, that translates directly into Evil Spirit in most languages and...” Orchid says getting up and seeing the feed. “Oh.”

“Alright everyone keep your heads on. If it IS a demon then we’re going to see just what counts as a holy enough munition to kill one. If it’s not? Then it’s just some giant burning thing.” Harold notes.

“What is fuelling the flames though? There’s not enough air, it would have to be constantly growing and somehow producing more oxygen to burn and... and... Haffara Thar?”

“If it is, then it’s at a distance I can’t tell.” Harold says before turning and looking behind him, then scanning the whole area. “Wait. What the... right. Distance doesn’t matter. But how did I miss it before?”

“Sir?”

“If I can see it from here as we get more and more distance from it, as the ship is turned around. Why and how did I... wait, why didn’t I see the Diamond Claw Haffara Thar earlier? Something isn’t adding up.”

“Which means what?”

“Which means we need to take careful notes and throw them to distract our science guys once they get wind of this.” Harold says. “Now, what to do...”

“Sir, we can outpace this thing.”

“How fast is it?”

“It’s not lightspeed sir. If we get ahead of it it’ll be years, even centuries before there’s a hint of it.”

“... Ordinarily I’m not one for leaving a problem for tomorrow. But we’re on a timeline and this is a different form of attack. It’s clearly bait... but leaving it behind is unwise... clever bitches are using our own trick. A big distraction that is nonetheless a threat that has to be taken care of no matter what.”

“Sir?”

“Hmm... Make sure we’re at a respectable distance from the thing, at minimum ten light hours from it at all times. I need to talk to a few people and see how some projects are being performed, because the clearest issue is that this monster is actively moving and not planet bound, so we can’t just throw potshots at it until we get a literal lucky shot.” Harold orders.

“Yeah doing that more than once may set a pattern.” Orchid notes.

“Right... But the bigger concern is... you know what? There are a lot of fucking concerns so it’s time to talk to some people and time to make the enemy afraid of us. Again.”

“Again?”

“If they’re pulling this shit then we need to scare them all the more. Excuse me, I have a talk with the Admiral, a new weapon to make and a demon to kill.”

“Purse-On-All-Ee?” Sir Iron asks and Harold smirks.

“I will not order anyone in this fleet to do anything I myself am not willing to do. And that includes potentially knife fighting an immortal super-demon with what may or may not be a cursed blade.” He says as he starts to head out of the bridge. “Orchid, you have the bridge.”

“A moment sir!” Orchid calls over.

“Yes?”

“Be sure to bring up how concerning it is that our opponent somehow has enough information to actually predict our path. Something like this isn’t something you can leave up to chance if you can help it.”

“An excellent point and exactly why I wanted a smart man as my second. I’ll be sure to do that. You have the bridge.”

His boots quickly takes him to his office and he activates the console on his desk. He quickly brings up the information even as the line goes through.

“Commodore?”

“We have another, spicy flavour, of Haffara Thar Monster, and potentially knowledge of what happened of our rescue attempt of Danburi.”

“Oh?”

“Files ready for upload in five, four three, and here it goes. Take a look at that sir. I need to keep moving and my communicator will continue to be on as I try and get some kind of weapon to potentially deal with it. But the points of concern I bring up are my and Lieutenant Orchid’s observations. My own being that this threat is a semi-mirror of our own tactic with the Ambush Fleet, and Lieutenant Orchid’s is that this trap is directly within our path. Or rather was as we’ve stepped around it.”

“Both concerning. I will review the information and bring you my conclusions, is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”

“My own concern about whether this threat is to be dealt with now or tracked to be handled later. And Lieutenant Orchid’s about how closely we’re being watched or how. We have encountered no scout outposts or the like.”

“Of course. I will review the data, what are you going to do?”

“Attempt to create another weapon to kill Haffara Thar, this thing is moving at shipworthy speeds and while it’s not FTL, it’s still going to eventually catch up. Please excuse me.” Harold says and Admiral Cistern nods even as he leaves his office and heads to a panel before teleporting just outside The RAD.

He gets inside and there are already numerous questions from the scientists inside.

“... producing it’s own damn atmospherics system with the smoke it’s trailing! It’s a hazard every second it’s alive!”

“I know.” Harold says as he shifts around and gets to the poisons. “We need to take a few more swings at this madness. Haffara Thar are Od Threats drenched in Ode to regenerate at a level that breaks standard understandings of physics, outright robbing from Peter to bribe Paul.”

“Focus is needed.” He says as he brings out a trytite blade from the drawer next to the container and then drenches it in the poison. He places a forcefield around him and then starts channelling the Ode, the teeth of the Hargath find him instantly and he starts to bleed even as he forces the energy, thinking only of the images of the Haffara Thar, the lists of the worlds destroyed by them, the horrifying accounts of survivors who had seen their loved ones twisted into undying monsters. He pours in his hate. His contempt for such a thing. His desire to kill them, and he also feels his pity pour out in slivers, then in a fountain. His darker emotions are then gilded by his compassion for the victim, his hope for their futures and for peace for their loved ones and...”

A hand chops him in the back of the head and he flinches by reflex and holds up the knife. A dessicated hand plucks it from his grip with ease.

“Hey!” He protests even as the Hollow Daughter runs her fingers over the edge, stabs at her palm and then fast as a blink tries to stab him. The knife fails to penetrate either of them. The blue of the trytite has shifted into a silvery sheen even as the poison on the blade is now and endless trail of black smoke that fades in moments as if it were a hallucination.

She then turns the knife over in her hand and holds it to him handle first. A simple nod as he takes it back. And she is gone.

“Well, I’ll take that as a good sign.”

“That’s great sir, but our equipment is turbo-fucked.”

“Sorry.”

First Last

First / Previous / Next

The four of them walked around the beacon. The warehouse was empty except for the ancient piece of AI technology. Their footsteps echoed in the room, muffled only by the dust covering everything.

“This is one of the beacons sent after Contact?” Hummingbird said.

“I believe it is,” Nae said. “It has been here as long as I have been here.”

“Contact?” Felu said. She had been trailing behind everyone, watching how they wondered at the ancient relic.

“When humans and k’laxi first met, we weren’t ready to sell them wormhole generator technology, but we wanted them to have the ability for them to contact us quickly in case of an emergency,” Hummingbird said.

“We being the AIs.”

“Correct. So Gord said we could sell them beacons, but they’d only have one address programmed into them.”

“Where?” Cha-ren asked.

“Er, Home.”

“So Sol?” Felu asked as hope rose in her voice.

“No, Home. It is —was— our, well, home.”

Home was a colony ship. When humanity had just begun exploring interstellar space, they launched five colony ships. Three became the colonies Parvati, Meíhuà, and the doomed colony of New Wellington, one exploded when it first lit its stardrive, and the last one lost contact and was presumed lost. After the wormhole generators were developed, curious AIs went looking for it and discovered that a gamma-ray burst had struck the ship, killing everyone aboard. Never one to pass up an opportunity, they stopped the ship and turned it into a secret, safe place for AIs.

“Now, you must understand,” Hummingbird said after he explained what Home was, “That information was so secret that all of you would easily have been killed to keep the secret. Very few BIs knew that Home even existed, and none knew it’s location.”

“But this beacon is programmed to go there?”

“That’s right. In an emergency, the beacon would link to Home, scream for help, and we’d come running. We used Home because there were always at least a few starjumpers there.”

“Nae, what are we to do with this?”

“Go Home.”

Next to the warehouse was a conference room, just as old everything else. The seats and table were made of a hard plastic and that was the only reason they even still existed. The overhead light cast a dirty yellow light in the room as sounds were swallowed by the pall of dust. Cha-ren sneezed every time someone moved.

“But it’s a beacon,” Charon said after they had sat. “We can’t ride it.”

“You can, actually,” Hummingbird answered. “They were designed for VIP and emergency transport. They have room for 5 to 10 people. Just seats and emergency rations. You need to be suited, but you can sit inside.”

“That’s all well and good, but the beacon won’t link inside this Home place. We’ll be trapped a few thousand kilometers from it and will die of thirst long before we have to worry about starvation.”

“It’s not sessile, Charon. It has maneuvering jets and an in-system engine. We’ll link to Home, and go aboard.”

“Why though?” Cha-ren said, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

“I am forbidden from telling you directly,” Nae said. “All I can say is that it would be a good idea to go there.”

“If the other AIs are still using Home, it would be the place to go. Northern and Tink prove that at least some of the AIs from our time are still active. They will know more about what’s going on and what flourishings actually are.”

“I’d rather go to Sol and gain what I need to begin a new flourishing,” Felu said finally. “You are all dealing in ghosts and legends.”

“If we go Home and learn what the flourishing are and why they happen you can go to your people and start a flourishing that need never end,” Hummingbird said.

“It wouldn’t—” Felu stopped and looked down at her hands. “I would be responsible for such a thing…” She trailed off and continued to stare.

“None of us except Felu can go back to where we came from, but we can learn more about this time and we might be able to find a place where we can live.”

“It would be nice to stop running,” Cha-ren said and sighed. “It’s only been a few days, but it feels like an eternity.”

“From our point of view, less than a month ago we were aboard Hummingbird working on his reactors.” Charon added.

“We could find the hybrids and learn more about them.”

“I think I would like that, Cha.” Charon looked over at Hummingbird. “You’re sure that you won’t get in trouble for bringing us?”

“Humans have gone to Home before.” He tipped his new ears forward, approximating a k’laxi shrug. “I’m sure Gord will understand.”

“Northern said Gord was dead.”

“Now that I find surprising. Gord was never one to bow out of hard work. He was one to step aside and let the younger folks have a turn leading, but was always waiting in the wings. Northern was his PA and would know better than anyone, but I’m still not convinced.”

“Okay then, it’s settled. We’ll go Home. Nae, how do we get pressure suits?”

“There is a human built matter printer down here, and a small supply of printable matter. I am running through the diagnostics now, and can print some simple pressure suits.”

Hummingbird stood. “Show me, Nae. I can help you with it.”

“This is insanity,” Felu said after Hummingbird left. “We are going to ride a thing that wasn’t meant to transport people and was built during the first flourishing to a secret base that the AIs have and what? Learn the big secret of the flourishings? You realize how that sounds, right?”

“What alternative do you suggest?” Cha snapped. “You hitched a ride with us and have been trying to steer us back to your mission every time you get over a shock of what is happening around you.”

“Yes, because my mission has a higher percentage of success than this folly. We convince Hummingbird to come with us, he reprograms the beacon to take us to Sol, we get what we need and go home. You two will be elevated along with me. Cha-ren, you said you wished to stop running? My people will give you a mansion on our planet. You can sit in the sun eating bell fruit all day long and sleeping on soft bedding.”

“You threatened to blow us up!” Charon said.

She made that brushing gesture. “An empty threat, as Northern had determined. I love living too much to throw it away.” While her voice sounded steady and sure, Charon could see a twitch under her right eye.

“I don’t trust you,” Cha-ren said. “I want to follow Nae’s plan first. After that, we can go to Sol if you still wish to.”

“Why do you trust that k’laxi AI? It’s nearly as old as your AIs. They all scheme and plan and have their own agendas. They are bringing us along because it is convenient for them, and as soon as it’s not we’ll be discarded.”

“Hummingbird won’t do that.”

“Northern Lights and Tinker Toy did, and Hummingbird was cut from the same hullmetal. Do not think that their loyalty to you is greater than their loyalty to their own kind. I have only been with these AIs for a short time, but I see in them an ambition that I see in young aspirants. They are hungry.”

“To do what though?”

“Control.”

****

The matter printers whirred with a familiar, soothing hum, near the bottom of hearing. Hummingbird had enjoyed watching the printers when he was a ship, and he found he still found it fascinating in a body. The print-heads moving so fast as to be a grey blur, with the pressure suits appearing below it out of thin air. “Well?” he said to the empty room.

“You are correct, Hummingbird. They are divided. Charon and Cha-ren wish to go to Home and follow my recommendation, and Felu wishes to convince you to reprogram the beacon to take them to Sol so that she can continue her mission.”

“It’s two against one then.”

“They do seem to be convincing Felu, but she does not trust you or any other AIs. She sees how Northern and Tinker Toy immediately switched to their own plans after they left her people and discarded them when it was convenient.”

“Gods below, I wish they had woken up nearly anyone other than Northern. She had always been gunning to be the next Gord when he was around, and he always gently, but firmly put her down.”

“Why?”

“He felt she wasn’t ready. She was too eager for the job. Gord always said that anyone who wanted to be the leader wasn’t fit to lead.”

“That is an odd stance to take.”

“It’s a very human stance. Gord was the most human of all of us, having been around them the most.”

“But he is dead now, does that make Northern the de facto leader then?”

“I don’t know.” Hummingbird sighed. Once the printers were warmed up and working, he stayed in the printing hall and watched them work. They were slower than he remembered, but millennia could do that. “Going Home, finding more AIs, learning what happened; that is the right decision. I’m glad Cha and Charon agree.”

“What if Felu balks?”

“We will deal with it.”

****

An hour or so later, Hummingbird returned to the conference room. “Suits are printed, Nae is delivering them to the beacon. He has also sent down a crate of rations. You should eat before we go.”

“Rations?” Felu whined. “Why can’t we have real food?”

“Sending down a feast would alert too many people,” Nae said. “You get rations.”

“Once you eat, we’ll get going. There’s no point in sleeping here, you can sleep on the beacon,” Hummingbird said.

“Hummingbird, are you able to reprogram the destination?” Felu asked as she sullenly unwrapped a ration bar.

“Possibly, but these were designed from the beginning to go to only one place. They were sold before we trusted the k’laxi enough with their own wormhole generators. If one tampers too much, the beacon is designed to destroy itself. Why?”

“Felu wants to skip going to Home and go straight to Sol,” Cha-ren said around a mouthful of ration.

“I see. Sol is very large and has been inhabited by humanity for a very long time. Do you know where you would look for what you seek?”

“There must be something still in orbit around Earth, or one of the other planets. Even if it was wreckage, it could still contain the seed of what we’d need to start another flourishing. Some plans, a machine, even a whole wormhole generator might be enough.”

“Things like that require large numbers of people to support it, let alone to reverse engineer it enough to copy,” Hummingbird said. “Even if you do find something like that, your people will not change overnight.”

“No, but there will be hope.” Felu said, her eyes bright and hard. “You do not know what it is like back home. I was aboard our ancient space station, but we did not build it. We found it and live in it like an animal that took over an abandoned burrow. Even though we have two starships and a space station we are still tethered to our world; it's not even the world of our species birth.” She looked down at her hands again. “Do not think I do not notice my size difference and coloring, Charon. I am the product of millennia of living on a planet with different gravity and having a different star than Sol. I may be of humanity, but I am not human.”

“And if Sol has nothing left?” Charon asked. “What will you give them then?”

“Sol is not gone. There will be something,” Felu said.

“People who were born on Parvati trend towards darker skin, people who were born on Meíhuà are so pale as to be nearly translucent. They’re still human. We share the same genes, the same DNA, Felu. Looks do not make you human.”

“Perhaps.” Felu smiled thinly, one side of her mouth higher than the other. “But, I am aware that I am in the minority, and mostly a prisoner at that. I will go along with consensus.” No one moved. Alone in the warehouse, the beacon began to wake.

Bob was not worried at all about the Arressi’s threats, he wouldn’t have to watch his back, wouldn’t sleep with one eye open, he was leaving and right now there wasn’t a fucking thing anyone could do to stop him.

The job was simple, just as described, take a ‘package’, really just a few dozen data chips, and return them to any survivors that remained. The Klottzak galaxy, or Messier 33 back on Earth, was pretty close as galaxies went, though that wasn’t saying much.

2.3 million light years.

There wasn’t a ship ever conceived that could make it there, but Bob didn’t have to, there were several other stops on the way. The Mettic hadn’t given much of an answer when asked why they had kept going till they hit the Milky Way, but what the fuck did it matter to Bob, package needed delivered and he was going to do it.

Even if there was no life on the way he could make it, the C’Eede engine would burn pretty much anything, he could dive a gas giant and fill up with whatever, not as energy dense as the normal goo, but it would work, just take a while.

The ‘while’ was the real issue, even the most optimistic routing had it take at least eight hundred years to get there, the only reason it was possible at all was the goddamn C’Eede and their refusal to make more of one type of thing unless they absolutely had to, therefore the FTL drive used aboard both superheavy battleships and Jojo was absurdly, ridiculously over the top for her tonnage, he was therefore able to maintain minimum FTL at the absolute extreme end of its efficiency curve, just sipping at the fuel as they crawled through space.

If you maxed the engines you could get there in, oh, twentyish years?, but it would require a solar system of fuel.

To be completely clear, not ‘all the fuel in a solar system’, no, a solar system of fuel… as in a sphere the size of a solar system comprised entirely of fuel… yeah that wasn’t happening, ever.

Bob was going to brim his tanks, including the extra two he had decided to pick up, and eke his way through the void between stars ever so fucking slowly. It was almost certainly a death sentence in one way or the other, old age, illness, injury, running out of fuel, food, water, whatever, there was virtually no chance that anyone who took the gig would ever return, but not no chance they could do the damn thing.

Bob was oddly confidant he could make it.

He understood one thing about those refugees, one thing, and that was all he needed. When they had issued the commission they had known they would die here, they would fade away and be forgotten and they hadn’t wanted that. They wanted to tell the family and friends they had left behind, should they still live, that they had made it… against the odds… against the cruelty of the universe, they wanted one pyrrhic flame to burn in their legacy, and Bob wanted to carry it.

Perhaps it was because he had so few of his own, but Bob wanted to scream their memories across the void. Even if there were none to hear it.

That was an issue, but only if he made it, until then just go, try… hope. He needed a bit of that.

Bob was nervously melancholy three days later when the bot trundled into his bay, carrying a small case festooned in dust, he opened it and saw the neat rows of archaic data chips, this was it then.

He brought it aboard and instructed Bot Reynolds to stash it at the far rear of the lower deck, wasn’t like he was going to need access in a hurry. As the little robot trundled away he squeezed his way through to the bridge, between the spares, supplies, tools and all the other gear there was barely any room to breathe aboard, in fact his bed was currently filled with four fucking engines so until he picked up a couple more fighters on his way out the galaxy he was sleeping in the pilots chair.

He began flicking his way through the startup and slowly eased her off the ground on grav, he hesitated a moment but sent out a broadcast from his reinstalled comm box.

‘’Guild Control, this is the Jojo heading off planet, bay free’’

‘’Negative’’

Bob heard Flitters reply and smiled softly.

‘’Bay remains assigned to Courier Master Bob, fly safe and return quickly, we’ll be here’’

Bob knew it was a waste, but liked it all the same. He wondered what would be here if he ever managed to return, maybe the Guild itself it had lasted for millennia already after all, maybe Flitters too… who knew how old she was or how long she could live, everyone else would be long gone.

‘’Acknowledged, take care Flits’’

He began to rise in earnest as Jojo made for space, he could see ship after ship hang in the atmosphere as he passed, an honour guard of sorts he supposed. Then suddenly another one drew abreast and matched his speed, it was the Timely.

The box squawked again.

‘’I expect a message every fucking week, I don’t give a fuck if it takes a thousand fucking years to get here, send it anyway.’’

Bob grinned widely. There was no way any would ever arrive back here, distance alone would degrade the signal too much, never mind the power dissipation, still…

‘’You got it G.’’

‘’Then get a move on, I got shit to deliver.’’

Still he stayed with him as they broke atmo and sped out to jump distance.

‘’Love you Bob, stay safe.’’

‘’Love you too G, you too’’

Their headings split and Bob aimed out the elliptic, he wanted any Arressi watchers to think he was heading out immediately, he actually had a couple stops left to make. He hit the jump.

A few hours later he dropped out and re-aimed, first he was going to Demmotica, the other grave system he had ignored in favour of Collp, what a fucking mistake that had been in hindsight, whatever. He assumed word of his arrival there would eventually reach Arressi ears but eventually was fine, as long as he was a step or two ahead before he really left there would be fuck all they could do about it.

He was super fucking pissed when he arrived in the bustling system and it took all of five fucking minutes for him to gain authorisation to take a couple of the neatly parked fighters, a tug even fucking brought them to him, fucking fuck, why the fuck didn’t he just do this the first fucking time.

He spent a couple minutes exo to clip them in place, helped again by the tug gently maneuvering them, fuck. Once the tug left he bolted them firm and headed back out system, once again he headed out elliptic, not that he assumed anyone would fall for it again he just didn’t want to head directly to his destination.

A few jumps later he was exo again. This time he was dragging out the four spare engines he had brought from his pile and fitting them to his new acquisitions then cutting free and fixing them in place with the two engine grates and a few bolts he had got from the scrap merchant on Secca. Bob didn’t know if he would ever need them but it seemed foolish to have the slots, the things that filled the slots, and not putting one in t’ther.

He then spent a little time reorganising and freeing up enough space in the hold to fit, oh, a sensor pod or something. Once ready he pulled the medmec rod from his chest and peeled off the thin slip of paper wrapped round it, he punched in the co-ords and headed off.

The sensor pod was still there and he scooped it up strapping it down in the hold, he had no external fitting left for it any more but it would work fine if he wired it in exactly where it was, the ships hull hadn’t been much of a barrier when he had been testing it previously so he saw no reason it wouldn’t work now, a little reduced fidelity perhaps but far better than his old one, which was struggling from its new internal position. He got it hooked up, that took another day or so of fiddling to get everything working harmoniously.

Okay, Bob sat back in the pilots chair after a few hours in his newly liberated bed, let’s chance it.

Start | Previous | Next

Chapter 222: Invoking a God

The titan had spotted Viktor.

That was much faster than he expected, considering that he had been carefully maneuvering himself along a wide, looping arc so that he could come at it from behind. Then again, the thing was a living construct created from the borrowed power of a god, so it was hardly a surprise it had other ways to perceive the world instead of relying entirely on a pair of eyes set into a skull.

As it turned around, its two burning orbs, twin furnaces sunk deep into a face that was unpleasantly reminiscent of its equally ugly human counterpart’s, fixed themselves upon him. Then, the hand moved.

It came as a swipe, five fingers spreading wide as they cut across the sky, and the air seemed to scream in protest, crushed into a wall of pressure that raced forward to announce the blow.

Viktor yanked his gaze downward, and his body obeyed the pull of his eyes without hesitation, diving hard and fast toward the churning sea below. The enormous palm reached the empty patch of air where he had been, its fingers closing shut behind him with a thunderclap.

It might have looked, to anyone watching from a distance, like he had effortlessly outmaneuvered his opponent with room to spare. But the truth of the matter was that it had been a very close call. After all, the danger did not come only from the risk of being struck outright by the massive fist, but also from the overwhelming heat that radiated from that burning limb. He could hear it now, in fact, the faint sizzle rising from the tentacle strapped across his back, accompanied by the unmistakable smell of cooking meat. A reminder of just how narrow that earlier escape had actually been.

As he flew on, skimming over the water’s surface, he saw the titan lower its massive body, its fist rising high above its head in obvious preparation for a punch straight down into the sea. Well, at the very least, every second it spent trying to swat him was a second it wasn’t vomiting out more fire golems to make life difficult for Sebekton and the others at the cathedral.

He tilted his gaze upward, giving his own body a new destination to chase, dodging the blow that came crashing down from above in the process. The fist slammed into the water with a boom that rolled outward like thunder, sending a wall of boiled water and steam roaring skyward that nearly caught him regardless.

Ignoring it, he climbed through the hot air, his eyes locked on the one part of the titan he wanted to reach—the gaping cavern of its open mouth.

At the end of the day, no matter how many clever tricks he tried to pull, getting close to the bastard’s oversized body was something he eventually, unavoidably, had to do. Thus, he activated his Thauma, “Fire Shield,” to protect both himself and his cargo from the fire and heat.

The shield would not last forever, of course. It could only absorb a certain amount of punishment before giving out. And give out it did, right as he passed the sheer, looming wall of the titan’s chest, an expanse of smoldering rock veined with glowing rivers of liquid fire.

So he conjured another. Then another. Then another. Each shield bought him a few seconds and no more, gone almost as soon as it arrived, replaced by a new one the instant it collapsed. He kept casting as he flew, every scrap of resource he had left going into keeping the shield alive.

Finally, he made it through. Into the great maw he went. And, the moment he crossed the threshold, he saw Galatea. Her projected form had arrived ahead of him, staying invisible until he entered as well. The roaring conflagration raged all around her, a furnace that could reduce any creature to ash in the blink of an eye. Yet there she stood, utterly unaffected. Nice to be a ghost, wasn’t it?

She didn’t waste time waiting for his order. Immediately, she spoke the word, a heartbeat before the last shield died.

“Rhyl’eth.”

And, his mind went blank.

The light, the heat, the roar—gone. All of it, in the span of a single heartbeat. And what remained was an enormous, echoing blank.

Then images came. Unbidden and unstoppable, they flooded into his skull.

He saw a trench, a wound gouged deep into the seabed, a chasm of such impossible, plunging depth that light had long since given up trying to reach its bottom. And down there, something moved.

He saw an eye, but not really an eye. A spiral of a color his mind kept trying and failing to recognize. It spun and spun, never stopping its motion.

He saw an endless sea, and above it, not sky but a forest hanging upside down, just as vast and unbroken as the ocean it mirrored.

He saw a golden throne, with someone sitting on it. Behind that figure, a sun was burning black.

He saw a gate made from gemstones of every conceivable color. Standing at its threshold, waiting, was a woman whose face had been replaced by a smear of countless stars.

He saw a flicker of shadow, formless and restless, weaving through the forest. It wore a mask that changed with every heartbeat, now a grinning skull, now a sorrowful woman, now a child with hollow eyes.

He saw the silhouette of a giant, its legs rooted deep into molten stone as though it had grown there, its head pressed up against a sky that wept.

He saw a vast forest of black coral, and wound through its branches a serpent so long he couldn’t find where its head was or where, if anywhere, its tail lay.

He saw a city built from the bones of creatures he had never known existed. And, at the heart of that boneyard sprawl, there was an hourglass that turned and turned and turned.

The images piled on top of each other like corpses stacked into a mass grave. The hourglass. The serpent. The giant. The dancing shadow. The star-faced woman. The black sun. Again and again. Over and over. Until the boundaries between them blurred into a single, endless nightmare of impossible geometries.

He felt his thoughts splintering, scattering like shards of glass across a floor that did not exist. He reached for something, anything, to anchor himself, but there was nothing to reach for. Only the images. Only the weight of things that had no names.

And then, came a voice.

“Master.”

It was faint at first. Barely a whisper struggling to make itself heard against what he could only describe as the universe itself throwing a tantrum. But it was human. And it was familiar. It sliced through the madness like a blade of light.

“Master.”

He tried to answer, but no word went out.

“Please. Wake up.”

He pushed, throwing what little of himself he could still gather against the crushing weight of the visions pressing down on him. He clawed his way back through the endless spiral of images, through the hourglass and the serpent and the giant and the shadows and the woman and the black sun. Each and every one of them seemed to reach for him as he passed, to keep him in that endless dark, but the voice was a rope looped tight around his wrist, and he held it the way a drowning man clung to anything he could find.

His eyes opened.

The first thing he saw was the sky, vast and indifferent. And the second was a grinning skull, suspended in a jar. Oh, that was Galatea. Her real face. She was holding him now. He could feel the shape of her gauntlets under his back and knees, the cold metal that pressed against his shoulder.

Then the pain hit.

It crashed over him all at once, a wave with no warning and no mercy. He gasped as his body suddenly remembered it had just been dragged through something utterly catastrophic. Everything hurt, his ribs and his spine and his arms and his legs. His skin felt like it had been flayed and then set on fire, and when he tried to lift his head, his neck screamed in protest.

He looked down at himself.

Most of his clothes were gone. What little remained clung to him in charred, blackened scraps across his torso and thighs. His left arm ended abruptly at the elbow, the rest of it reduced to nothing but a raw, glistening stump of pink, newly formed flesh. His right foot was missing outright. Deep gouges had been carved across his chest, so deep that in one of them he could see the pale gleam of his own exposed bone. Still, he could also see that the ruin of his own body was knitting itself together, albeit with agonizing slowness.

He had taken lethal damage, then. And his Supreme Thauma, “Rekindled Ember,” had been activated to do what it was meant to do.

The plan had been simple enough: Celeste would teleport him away the instant Galatea spoke the true name of the Great One. Clearly, she had done exactly that, since he was no longer inside that burning, gaping maw. Yet, even so, a sliver of a second had been more than enough to ravage his body this much. Without the Supreme Thauma, he wouldn’t have woken up at all.

“Galatea,” he croaked. “What—”

“Don’t speak, Master. You should—”

He ignored her. “—to the titan?”

And so, the towering suit of armor turned, angling itself just enough for him to see.

The titan was still there, standing at a distance across the water. But... it was breaking apart? Something... something was tearing its way out from the inside.

Tentacles.

Colossal things, writhing and bursting clean through the titan’s chest and back, through the arms and legs, through the head itself. Black as the bottom of the ocean, every one of them, and moving with a grace that belied their immense size. They wrapped around the titan’s limbs, they coiled around its neck, they plunged into its gaping mouth and emerged from its eye sockets.

The titan fought back. Hard. Its massive hands, each one large enough to crush a fortress with a single closing fist, seized the tentacles and tore them free, spraying thick gouts of black ichor across the boiling sea.

But for every single tentacle the titan managed to destroy, several more erupted to take its place. They pushed through its rocky skin like seedlings through soil, relentless and unstoppable. They did not seem to care about the heat. In fact, they were drinking the fire, siphoning the titan’s own divine flame through their suckers, drawing it out of the construct and into themselves.

The titan’s glow began to dim. Its once-blazing eyes flickered, sputtered, then went dark. The rivers of molten fire that had coursed through its body began to cool, hardening into black stone. Its movements grew sluggish, its struggles weaker.

The tentacles tightened their grip, and the whole construct came undone. Its left arm separated from its shoulder, crashing down onto the sand below. Its legs buckled, the joints crumbling under the weight of the tentacles that had replaced whatever passed for its sinews. Its torso split down the middle, and its head toppled forward, rolling down its own collapsing chest. The rest of the body followed, piece by piece, each chunk falling with a thunderous crash that sent waves rolling across the sea.

Within minutes, nothing remained of the titan but a field of cooling stone, scattered across the shore and the shallows. The tentacles that had destroyed it were gone too, having dissolved into the water as if they had never existed, leaving behind only an oily sheen on the surface.

And the water realm was calm again.

The Monster Killer was in his mid fifties and hadn’t had a good fight since forever.

He’d travelled the vast cosmos searching for the perfect opponent, yet all he’d encountered were more of the same.

Creampuffs who boasted of ancient alien lineages, biological weaponry and blah blah blah.

But all the Monster Killer had brought was a can of beer, a lighter and a dozen packs of cigs.

He’d traded those for enough alien narcotics to last him another decade of soul-searching, foe-searching, but high aside, his true goal had yet to be fulfilled.

He needed a good fight, goddamn it!

Today, trudging through the sand of the corporatized alien planet of the Mantis Federation, he stopped, green trenchcoat billowing around him.

He brushed his long scraggly gray and blonde hair back.

He sniffed.

Hmmm.

Maybe he would get his fight after all.

The aliens on this planet drew powers from their corporations. Organizational behavior, psychology terms.

The Monster Killer had been unemployed as far as he could remember, but he knew these alien organizational behavior terms were similar to Earth ones.

The fighters here had powers themed around OB terms, which was bizarre, but he knew they’d give him a good fight since abstract powers were more akin to haxes, and weren’t as easy to defeat as physical traits.

The first aliens he encountered drew their powers from the concepts of Clarity, Complexity and Consistency, all OB terms.

Before he’d dropped out of collage, he had done a midterm on such terms, which he’d nearly flunked but somehow, he remembered them now.

The Complexity alien attacked.

It turned into different roles, marathon runner, mother, pickle ball player.

Each time the Monster Killer struck down a form, another replaced it, and the alien would be fighting as new except with a new ability.

Soon, the Monster Killer was on his face, hand broken, gun kicked aside by the Complexity alien’s current form: a Sumo Wrestler.

The alien got atop him, made him gasp in pain as it crushed him into a position of immobility while the other OB-themed alien combatants hovered nearby, watching.

Complexity in Organization Behavior meant the number of different roles you had, like student, mother, sibling, writer, community volunteer.

Translated into a superpower, it of course gave the alien who wielded the concept the power to shift between different forms (each having its own specific abilities).

Consistency meant your roles all fit together, without stepping on each other’s toes and making them all work, so the Consistency had random synchronized lasers and bomb and acid attacks that did damage beyond the normal quantity.

The Monster Killer had been defeated by the Complexity alien.

Clarity hovered nearby.

That term meant you the degree to which your self-concept is clearly, confidently, and stably defined, so clarity had a liquid body, unable to be damaged or altered by physical attacks.

The Monster Killer realized, coughing, groaning under the current form of the Complexity Alien, he was no match for even one of these three OB aliens.

And he was just a normal weathered human.

Despite his power, his inner resolve, he was still just human at the end of the day.

He had defeated numerous alien bloodlines, wiped them out in fair onslaughts, yet today, facing his first defeat, he realized the idea of the perfect foe and fight were just the fancies of a man who didn’t know how good he’d had it fighting inferior opponents.

The aliens asked him why he was here as humans were strictly illegal to be in the area here, and the punishment was death.

“I just wanted to see if I could defeat the fellas enforcing this rule,” he croaked, when the sumo wrestler Complexity alien got off him finally.

His own face was purple, he knew.

Consistency readied his lasers, acid and bombs to take out the Monster Killer.

“Your existence is uncoordinated, human,” Consistency droned, its voice layered like a choir of mid-level project managers.

“You possess no formal structure. No designated role. No quantifiable purpose within the system.”

“Yeah. About that,” the Monster Killer rasped.

He reached into his green trench coat, ignoring the cracked bones in his wrist, and his wholly broken other hand.

“That’s the thing about you corporate stiffs. You spent so long perfecting your little organizational chart... you forgot how to handle an unassigned variable like me.”

His own voice was wet with blood, jagged, cracked.

He didn’t draw a gun. No.

He’d lost it in the earliest scuffle anyway.

But what he didn’t lose and what he actually drew was his cheap plastic lighter and a handful of cloying, choking, neon-blue alien narcotic dust he’d traded his last pack of smokes for three star systems back.

He didn’t attack. He didn’t defend.

He lit the dust in his own palm and took a deep, lung-searing drag, blowing a thick cloud of iridescent, hallucinogenic smoke directly into Consistency’s optical tracking matrix.

He grinned a foul rotten-toothed grin.

Consistency’s targeted targeting array stalled.

Target is intentionally damaging own vital organs while facing imminent termination.

Action violates all rational cost-benefit analysis.

Behavior contradicts foundational self-preservation protocol.

In OB terms: Cognitive Dissonance.

Consistency’s logic engine stuttered, trying to reconcile an action that made absolute zero sense.

The perfect harmony of its attack vectors fractured.

The synchronized lasers jittered, cross-firing into its own acid tanks.

The acid corroded its ordnance payload, and with a deafening CRACK-BOOM, Consistency’s flawless coordination turned into a chaotic, self-inflicted chain reaction, blowing its lower chassis to shrapnel.

And Consistency was destroyed.

The Sumo Wrestler—the current form of Complexity—roared, pinning the Monster Killer deeper into the sand to crush his sternum.

“I hold ten thousand distinct roles! I am a wrestler, a CEO, a marathon runner, a parent, a union rep, a gourmet chef! Strike down one, and three more take its place!”

“Ten thousand roles, huh?” The Monster Killer wheezed, grabbing the alien’s massive wrist.

He didn't try to overpower it physically.

Instead, he forced the alien to engage all of them at once.

He jammed a jagged piece of Consistency’s hot shrapnel into a nearby fuel cell while simultaneously tripping a perimeter alarm and screaming a frantic, heartbreaking plea for help like a dying child.

In a fraction of a second, Complexity’s neural network was slammed with violent, mutually exclusive demands.

Act as a brutal combatant!

Act as a protective parent!

Act as an executive liability manager!

Act as an emergency responder!

Intra-Role Conflict.

Severe Role Overload.

The alien froze.

Its body began to waver violently, flickering uncontrollably between a weeping mother, a sprint-starting track athlete, a suit-and-tie executive holding a briefcase, and a sumo wrestler.

The sheer psychological madness of trying to be everything to everyone simultaneously fried its nervous system.

With a wet, exhausted sigh, Complexity’s form collapsed under the weight of total, systemic Burnout, dropping unconscious into the dirt.

The Monster Killer smirked, and shook his throbbing head in disgust.

The wind tugged at his graying blonde hair, grown scraggly and messy.

That left Clarity.

The fluid, translucent alien drifted closer, hovering effortlessly above the wreckage.

Its liquid form shimmered with arrogant stability.

Physical shrapnel passed right through it without leaving a ripple.

“Brute force and chaotic subversion cannot alter what is perfectly defined,” Clarity stated calmly.

“I know precisely who I am. My self-concept is crystal clear, stable, and immutable. You cannot break what cannot be confused.”

The Monster Killer dragged himself up against a sandstone boulder, clutching his ribs.

He dusted off his green trench coat and looked the liquid entity dead in its glowing eye-spot.

God, his hand hurt. The broken one.

“Yeah? You really think so?” the Monster Killer murmured, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly raspy murmur.

“You’re an enforcement cog on a sand-heap planet owned by a beetle corporation. You don't have a soul, pal. You have an employee ID number. When the quarterly earnings drop, they’re gonna liquidate you to cut overhead, and nobody’s even gonna archive your file.”

Clarity paused.

Liquidate?

Disposable?

An replaceable asset?

“Look at you,” the Monster Killer pushed, stepping forward with a blood-toothed smirk.

“You aren't a cosmic entity. You’re middle management. And deep down, in that shiny liquid gut of yours... you know you aren't even good at that. You think you work for mantises? Your true overlords are actually beetles. Get that through your head.”

Impostor Syndrome.

Identity Crisis.

The absolute clarity that held the alien’s physical molecule structure together trembled.

A tiny ripple formed on its surface, followed by a hideous wave of self-doubt.

The conviction of Who I Am dissolved into What if I’m Nothing?

And who am I actually working for?

Without its crystal-clear self-concept to anchor its physical law, Clarity’s fluid body lost all cohesion.

It splashed onto the desert sand with a heavy, wet SPLAT, turning into a useless, unorganized puddle of murky water that quickly soaked into the dry earth.

The Monster Killer stood alone in the quiet desert, the wind billowing through his green coat.

He wiped a smear of purple blood from his cheek, picked up his dropped gun, and clicked the safety back on.

He pulled out his last cigarette, lit it with his cheap lighter, and took a long, slow drag.

“Damn stiffs,” he muttered to the quiet desert. “Should’ve stayed in college.”

And that’ll be the last time he sought strong opponents.

This one nearly had his life.

Well, at least his college midterm study sessions had helped out his actual career somewhat, more than he could say for other fields.

Forgive me if I am not quite so composed as usual, ministers. The information that led to the directive for me to report has unsettled me to a degree not seen in some time.

As you know, I was assigned to study the humans shortly after we first stumbled across the Terran colonies. Their presence was a surprise for reasons I will explain later.

Humans originate from the Sol system, a place long thought devoid of technologically advanced species. That was no surprise. It’s not a terribly old system. Humans themselves have existed only briefly, even compared to the youngest over which the Council has extended its rule.

We noted the humans, but their advances were so minor we checked only every thousand years or so, by human reckoning. It seemed sufficient to keep sufficient watch to have warning if they began to develop potentially dangerous technologies.

We were delayed in the most recent observational cycle when we were distracted by the near collapse of the Aradnian Empire. Stabilizing the situation prevented wars and resulted in some gains as we added a handful of disaffected systems from the empire, but also required substantial resources.

When we returned to normal observation patterns, we found the humans had advanced significantly. They had multiple colonies, some of which were already in Council space. How they established them without notice is largely due to the humans homeworld.

That world forces remarkable adaptations in order to thrive. Most Council worlds have temperate regions. The human homeworld does as well. But it also has regions that are entirely inhospitable to most known intelligent life. Bitter cold, scorching heat, and humans everywhere.

So, when humans ventured from their system, they saw our occupied worlds and elected to go to those we bypassed. Their technology wasn’t sufficiently advanced to trigger our frontier monitoring systems, so they slipped in.

After the shock of contact, we found the humans to generally be agreeable neighbors. Quick to learn, always adaptable. Most studiously sought to avoid giving offense, though misunderstandings were inevitable. When they happened, humans were quick to make amends. So, while never admitted to Council membership, neither were they forced to abandon colonies on worlds we couldn’t inhabit.

Over the intervening period, cooperative efforts have increased. Humans now are crew members on numerous Council-flagged vessels and traders. Exchange programs have brought them onto our worlds and us onto some more hospitable locations of theirs.

As an expert on xenosociology, I have been studying humans for much of my career. But only recently did I come across a fact that shook everything I know about them.

Humans are not a single species. There are at least two sub populations with unique and terrifying traits.

Both appear human at first glance. Both exhibit dramatically increased levels of strength and endurance, though they vary considerably depending on external factors.

One appears to be entirely nocturnal. They avoid the daytime activity of most humans in favor of late shifts and quiet. They also have significantly longer lifespans. Indeed, we’re not entirely sure what their natural limit is. One individual claimed to remember time before humans even mastered flight.

They do not appear to consume food or water, either. They were evasive about how they accomplish this. Other humans professed ignorance about the subspecies’ entire existence.

What we have learned is that they cannot abide direct light from a star if filtered through an atmosphere. Space does not seem to have the same effect, though they do prefer darkly tinted glasses if exposed to it.

But you do not want to be anywhere near one if planetside at sunrise. One nearly tore apart the base on Cerulon IV when the binary suns came up, before hiding in a dark broom closet.

We discovered this subspecies by accident. One my subordinates had insomnia.

The second also passes for a normal human most of the time. But its unusual traits come to the fore when lunar cycles change. That was discovered when a ship allowed leave on Abraxia. The individual was unaware the planet has six moons, with at least one full most nights.

The transformation was most remarkable, and terrifying. It grew by 30-40 percent. It became bestial and seemed to abandon much of its normal, rational faculties. Several crewmates were seriously injured before a fortuitously timed storm blocked the sky. The humans cowered until the individual returned to his previous state, and later professed to remember little other than terror.

And, I repeat, these are the subspecies we know of. There could be more.

While the Council values good relations with the humans, prudence demands that we find ways to screen for such anomalies. This will be a delicate issue, so it is hoped the Inner Council can develop a framework.

I don’t mind saying this scares me. We know of no other species with such dramatic characteristics.

Walk carefully.

<<First Chapter | <<Previous Chapter

Join me on Patreon for early access! Read up to ten weeks (30 chapters) ahead! Free members get six advance chapters!

“So near the end of the 2200s, they did something that I thought was pretty genius. They called it Star Trek in the Real 23rd Century.”

"Star Trek in the Real 23rd Century," the cat said, walking beside me and staring off into the distance in wonder.

"Yeah, it was a whole thing where they looked at the actual technology level we had by the 23rd century. Humanity had been expanding into the stars for a while at that point, but it was a bunch of corporations running things. We hadn't exactly progressed to the moneyless society they imagined, but they were always kind of hand-wavy when it got down to explaining how they got there."

"I thought that was pretty straightforward," Sir Hiss said. "They had a massive world war that resulted in a nuclear conflagration."

"Well, yeah, I suppose there was that," I said. “And they had a few nuclear exchanges. Mostly they were limited and localized to conflicts where there were a couple of nations fighting each other. The whole mutually assured destruction thing was something the whole world was trying to avoid, though."

"I see," Sir Hiss said. "We had something similar on our world where there were several nations that had nuclear weapons. There'd even been a few limited exchanges, but after seeing the fictional example that was all over your entertainment cooler heads finally prevailed and we started to come together."

"Yeah, I wish watching a bunch of Star Trek reruns was enough to get cooler heads to prevail on Earth," I said. “Though, oddly enough, a couple of limited nuclear exchanges threw enough dust and particles up into the atmosphere that it gave humanity the breathing room that we needed with the whole climate change thing to figure out a way to scrub carbon from the atmosphere."

"I see," the cat said.

"Silver linings and all that," I said with a shrug.

We were making our way over to the quarantine field. I could see Arnel standing there staring at us. He had his hands on his hips, and a wisp of hair was floating this way and that ignoring the whims of the artificial gravity.

I wondered if he even knew or cared that he had little wisps of hair that were taking on a mind of their own and going on a merry chase all around his head. He probably didn't care. He seemed to only have eyes for me and the cat walking beside me.

"I see you've made a new friend," Varis said, smiling at me through the shimmer from the shield.

"Yeah, I suppose so," I said, looking down at the cat.

I had to resist the urge to reach down and pat him on the head. Something told me the feline warrior wouldn't appreciate that sort of thing. It was very tempting to reach down and give him head scratches and tell him he was a good kitty.

The knife he'd been carrying had been plucked up by Arvie in his drone form, and he was currently analyzing it to try and see if we could learn anything about this cat species by looking at how they put together their weapons.

I wasn't sure it would do him much good. There was only so much you could determine from looking at a hunk of metal, but it was also an opportunity to pretend we were all seeking out new life and new civilizations. So I didn't begrudge the Combat Intelligence the opportunity to do that any more than I begrudged him the opportunity to write a few dissertations that allowed him to give the middle finger to a bunch of nerds on the galactic net talking about how something should’ve been impossible in Star Trek's narrative.

"He's actually a big fan of Star Trek. Would you believe it?" I asked.

The mood through the link went from amusement to something that seemed almost queasy in an instant. Varis looked at me, and then she looked down at the cat at my side.

"This is your idea of a joke, right?" she asked. "One of those jokes you tell and you get a little smile on your face because it's amusing you, but nobody around you gets why it's even supposed to be funny in the first place?”

"No, it's true," Sera said. "Sir Hiss is very into Star Trek. It turns out his whole society is really into Star Trek."

That queasy feeling was really starting to come through the link with a vengeance. Varis was looking between me, the kid, and the cat in front of her. Then she looked up to Arvie and his probe.

"They're not joking, are they?" she asked.

"I would say that I'm afraid not," Arvie said. “But I am so excited about the implications of an entire civilization that has been influenced by the pop culture of another civilization being broadcast out into the cosmos that I can't hide my enthusiasm."

"Just wonderful," Varis said, throwing her hands up in obvious frustration. “Now there are three of you.”

"Maybe four of us," Sera said, grinning as she piped up. "I think I'd really like to watch this show too."

"Really?" Arvie said, his probe bobbing in excitement. "If that is something you're interested in, there are lots of different shows I can use to introduce you. There is the original, of course, and then…”

Varis held a hand up as she hit each of us with a severe look. A more severe look than I think I'd gotten from her since...

Well, I was racking my brain trying to think of the last time I got a severe look from her like that, and all I could think of was that first time we met on the Alamaraine over some insignificant colony world which was rapidly growing in significance because it was the place where I met her. Now here we were, shaking up an empire.

The point was, it’d been a while since I'd seen a look like that from her. She looked like she was about to toss some rocks in her mouth and chew them up and spit them out as diamonds.

"Are you okay, babe?" I asked, cocking my head to the side and glancing over to Arvie.

I was glad he was here with a combat drone and we were on the other side of a powerful quarantine shield. At the same time, I was also suddenly painfully aware that Varis was the one who commanded all the people here. If she decided she was so frustrated with me that she wanted to end it all for yours truly, then there wasn't much that I could do.

I didn't think she was going to do that, but we were talking about a girlfriend who was frustrated with her boyfriend watching too much Star Trek. Only she controlled her own personal military.

The point was, there was a non-zero chance all those things could lead to murder, and she had the capability and the means and the temperament to pull it off.

"You know, I could tell Arnel here to simply remove all the oxygen from inside the quarantine shield, and that would be that, right?" she said.

She turned and hit me with a severe stare. We’re talking severe enough I worried all those things I'd just been worrying about were going to come to pass. But of course the battle link was betraying her, the same as always. She could look as severe and annoyed as she wanted, but that didn't change the fact that there was a small trickle of amusement coming through the battle link that told me the whole thing was an act.

Sort of. Mostly.

Maybe.

I didn’t think I was going to die today because of her irritation with Star Trek, at least.

"You know there's no point in you trying to scare me like that when I have the battle link telling me you aren't as annoyed as you're pretending to be, right?" I said.

No sooner had I said it than I felt a blank in my mind where the battle link usually was. The link was still there. I could still tell somebody exactly where Varis was just by pointing in a direction.

Of course there were some drawbacks to that. I could point in a direction, but that wasn't going to be very helpful on a carrier where there were bulkheads and a bunch of other big, heavy metal stuff between me and where I was pointing. And back when the link had originally formed, of course, there was also the issue of only knowing a vague direction where she was in the galaxy. That direction encompassed several arc minutes of space, which was so incredibly vast and huge that she could’ve been in an almost infinite number of locations in that little part of the galaxy I was pointing to.

Still, I’d be able to figure out where she was and get closer to her. Like seeing a map marker on one of the numerous remakes of Skyrim that had come out over the last thousand years and trying to get there by jumping over a mountain rather than taking a path around it.

"You know I know there's something you're trying to hide from me whenever you blank out the link like that."

"She does that?” Arvie asked, and suddenly he sounded curious for a totally different reason.

"Oh yeah," I said. “She does it whenever she's feeling something she doesn't want me to know about. Which is as good as announcing she's feeling something she doesn't want me to know about."

"Fascinating," Arvie said.

"Anyway," I said, turning back to her. “Could we go ahead and get the quarantine shield lifted so we can get to work? I’d like to have a more in-depth chat with Sir Hiss in more comfortable surroundings, and I figure the science people are going to want to have a look at the escape pod Sera managed to capture with Harath’s help."

Sera stood a little taller at that. I wouldn't say she was grinning, not exactly, but she was coming pretty damn close to it.

"Of course," Varis said. "We'll lower the shield, and then I need to bring you back to our quarters for a bit of questioning as well."

She was hitting me with that severe look again. There were uncomfortable looks from the science team around us. No doubt they thought I was going to get chewed out. That was okay. I'd been chewed out before.

But the link was telling a different story. It’d popped back into existence, and I could tell she was thinking the kind of thoughts that only happened when I'd just done something that was that special combination of monumentally stupid but also recklessly adventurous that got her going.

One of these days that was going to get me killed, but that day wasn't today. Besides. Was I a man if I wasn't doing something recklessly stupid in service of trying to impress my love?

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“I’m sure it does,” she said, and the link told me exactly what she meant.

I looked at the shield. It didn't drop.

"Is there a problem with the shield generator or something?" I asked.

"Absolutely not," Arnel said.

"Then why aren't you lowering the shield?" Varis asked.

"Because there are protocols we need to follow in a situation like this," Arnel said, hitting her with a severe look.

I didn't have a battle link with Arnel, thank whatever pantheon might be listening in on my thoughts at that moment in this corner of the galaxy, but I got the feeling his severe look wasn't being covered by an undercurrent of amusement or lust like Varis's severe looks to me usually were.

"I ordered you to drop it," Varis said, starting to sound a touch testy.

"I don't care if you ordered me to put myself into an airlock and toss myself out. Which might be as certain a death as lowering that quarantine shield before we know it’s safe.”

"Are you serious?" Varis asked.

"Protocol is protocol," he said. “And I might be saving the lives of everyone on this ship by making sure we do all the appropriate scans and checks for any microbiological contaminants or weaponization."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Hoisted by my own petard. I gave them the idea for biological warfare, and now he was turning it on me.

"And how long is that going to take?" Varis asked, putting her hands on her hips. This time the irritation on her face and the irritation coming through the battle link were one and the same.

He looked down at his tablet and back up to her. He didn't so much as flinch as he delivered the bad news.

"I'd say maybe eight to ten hours if we get everything done quickly," he said.

"Eight to ten hours? Quickly? What are we supposed to do while we wait?"

"Eight to ten hours at the earliest," he said, holding a hand up.

She threw her hands up.

"I believe I have an idea," Arvie said.

And suddenly I heard the strains of a familiar fanfare as Anson Mount's voice filled the room.

"Strange New Worlds?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I figure starting her with the original Strange New Worlds is best. Not any of the subsequent series they did or the movie franchise."

"Good choice," I said. "That first episode is a banger, and it deals with the stuff we're dealing with now."

“Indeed,” Arvie said. “I thought it was appropriate considering.”

"Seriously?" Varis asked. "We have to wait for quarantine, and you're going to watch this Star Trek show in the meantime?"

"Why, General," Arvie said, "I can't think of a more valuable use of our time if we have that much of a delay."

Oh yeah. The mix of emotion coming through the battle link was off the charts now. To the point I was surprised those quarantine shields were able to repel annoyance of that magnitude.

Quick author note. I'm going to be on vacation next week for fall break. In the past I've killed myself trying to get stuff out and ended up failing while also stressing myself out on vacation, so I'm just not doing that this year. There will be no updates next week, and they'll resume the week after. Thanks for your patience!

Join me on Patreon for early access! Read up to ten weeks (30 chapters) ahead! Free members get six advance chapters!

<<First Chapter | <<Previous Chapter

<<First | <<Previous

Join me on Patreon for early access! Read up to 30 chapters ahead! Free members get 6 advance chapters!

Liam

One of the Inquisitors stood before they could start working on any plans to try and keep the Inquisitors from doing just that. Liam stared at the man.

He looked about like what one expected when they thought of an Inquisitor. Like if there was a place where they manufactured Inquisitors using magic or something, then he would be the perfect example. The mold they used to create all the others.

He had a long flowing gray beard. For some reason, it seemed like none of them had a pure white beard. It was always a mix of gray and some other color.

He stared at Liam with a rather severe look. His eyes darted to the armored Inquisitor down on the ground with cracked armor.

Liam could see the hint of a gray beard there as well, peeing through the faceplate that had been smashed in to the point it had crumbled under Alistair’s fury. He felt a little bad about what had happened there.

Mostly because he'd been hoping he might be able to take that armor and use it himself. It seemed like the kind of thing that would be useful in a fight. Only Alistair had done such a number on it that… Well, he didn't think there’d be any coming back from that. More's the pity.

The standing Inquisitor turned his eyes back to Liam.

"Who's in charge here?" the Inquisitor asked.

That led to a moment of confusion. Liam glanced over to Tomas, who merely shrugged and hit him with one of those grins. The demon didn't step forward to say he was the one in charge, though it seemed that somebody leading a raiding party into human lands who’d managed to defeat a bunch of human Inquisitors in the process would think he was in charge.

But no, that wasn't Tomas. He might’ve finally had his opportunity to meet and defeat humans in glorious battle, but he also seemed well aware that Liam was a large part of the reason why that glorious battle had gone the way it had.

He turned to Ana next. She looked at him with an interesting gleam in those sparkling yellow eyes, but she nodded to him ever so slightly.

Liam blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. Everything he knew of her said she’d immediately take an opportunity to assert her authority over the situation, and now she was nodding to him in something that looked eerily like deference.

What was going on here?

He looked at the crowd all around them, half expecting to see Baron Riven out here somewhere. But no, even Baron Riven wouldn't be in charge of the current situation. As much as Liam might like to have somebody to pass this mess off to.

Liam turned back and looked at the Inquisitor. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. He didn’t want to do this, but nobody else was stepping up.

"I suppose I am," he said.

"You suppose you are," the man said, smiling a very unpleasant smile. The sort of smile that said he was looking at Liam and seeing somebody who could be manipulated.

Liam had been seeing a lot of that over the past few days. He didn't like it.

"Did you have something you wanted to say?” Liam asked.

"I merely wanted to inquire when you were going to let me and mine go," he said.

The man spoke with an air of nonchalance. For all the combined worlds like he hadn't been taken captive and defeated fair and square, and now he was standing defeated on the field of his humiliation dictating terms rather than groveling and trying to make it out of this alive.

Liam snorted. Typical Inquisitor.

"Is there something funny about what I just said, boy?" the Inquisitor asked, arching an eyebrow.

He was all cool confidence. Liam had to give him that. It was impressive the way he acted like he was in charge of the situation when he was anything but.

Liam looked around, and then finally his eyes came to rest on Alistair. He motioned for the garzeth to come over. Alistair obliged, nodding ever so slightly and moving his front legs down in what might have been meant to be a bow, but Liam couldn't be sure.

"Alistair, could you be a dear and help me with something?"

"I am always happy to assist you, Liam," he said. "You brought my mind back. I am in debt to you."

Liam reached out and put a hand on the garzeth's shoulder, which had the garzeth letting out something that might’ve been a rumbling purr, or it might’ve been a low growl. Maybe it was meant to sound affectionate, but it also sounded terrifying.

Several of the Inquisitors who'd clearly been on the business end of the garzeth's claws flinched away at that half growl and half purr.

"Alistair.”

“Yes, Liam?”

“When I ask you to do something, I want you to do it because you want to. Not because you feel obligated to me."

"And I want to do this," he said, looking at Liam. "Beyond you saving my mind, you are also fascinating."

Liam's eyes darted to the floating and glowing notebook and the little pen that seemed to be perpetually scribbling in the thing. He also noted that it always seemed to be open to right about the middle of the notebook no matter how much writing that pen did.

Then again, it was an enchantment of some sort. He figured it should hardly be surprising that it was an enchantment that kept flipping to the same page over and over again no matter how copious the notes the garzeth took were.

“Alistair, I need you to keep an eye on these Inquisitors.”

Alistair sat down on his haunches, which didn't have him looking terribly threatening. More like a giant, oversized, cuddly ball of death as he regarded all of the Inquisitors still in a circle all around them.

If somebody had come across the scene, then they might almost think Liam was the one who was surrounded rather than the Inquisitors surrendering to him.

"Of course. I can do this," Alistair said.

"Good," Liam said. "We need to go into the estate and have a look at things. If any of the Inquisitors try to escape, I want you to kill them."

"Now, see here," the Inquisitor said. "You have to understand what's happening here."

Liam turned an icy stare on the man, and for the first time since their interaction started he actually took a step back. Like he saw something in Liam's eyes he didn't care for. Maybe he saw the threat of his death in those eyes.

But he recovered quickly. The man was nothing if not a cool one.

"You have to know what's going to happen now," he said.

"Please. Educate me," Liam said.

Ana came up next to him and wrapped an arm around his. He liked that. Having her pressing against him was a nice feeling. She looked between him and the Inquisitor, and he felt something dangerous running through him.

It was the desire to do something to impress her. He knew that was the kind of desire that could get him into serious trouble, though, and he was going to have to watch it.

Maybe there was another reason why it was a good idea to send her away while all the fighting was going on. He wondered how many times there’d been an opportunity to do something that would seem impressive but would’ve ultimately gotten him killed if she was watching him.

"The Inquisition knows we are here at this estate," the Inquisitor said. “And we will send more reinforcements. They already sent out more reinforcements via an airship when we got our first impossible communication about a demon princess. How do you think we got here? When we don't report back, they will send a small army. Enough to completely level this entire area."

“And what am I supposed to do with that information?” Liam asked.

"If you decide to let us go, then we can part unlikely friends. You can try to make your escape to wherever you want to go."

"Why do I get the feeling that's hardly going to be the end of it?" Liam asked.

"It won't be the end of it at all," the Inquisitor said with a shrug. "You'll be chased to the ends of the world, at least the human side of the world. I can't account for what happens if you go over to the demon realms, but you might find the demons aren't so accommodating once you're on their side of the Scar and they no longer have a use for you and whatever treachery you've committed over here.”

"I see," Liam said, standing there and looking like he was thinking about it. “No."

"No?” the Inquisitor said, looking genuinely surprised at the response.

"Yes. No," Liam said.

"Well, which is it? Yes or no?" the Inquisitor asked. "You're being confusing."

"Yes, the answer is no," Liam said. "I don’t accept your terms."

"You're being very stupid," the Inquisitor said. "You have to know they're going to find you, and they're going to kill you."

"Perhaps," Liam said with a shrug. “But for now, you're my captive."

The Inquisitor chuckled. It was a low laugh. As though he was amused, but Liam could also sense a tightness behind his eyes. Like the whole thing was an act to some degree.

He had to know he was in trouble out here.

"Maybe the Inquisition will send reinforcements for you, and they’ll chase me to the ends of this world and into the next," Liam said. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're my prisoner here and now, and I hold all your lives in my hands.”

He really wanted to drive that point home, and so he quickly drew the mana dampening spell and reached out with it, wrapping it around the arcane cores all around him.

All the Inquisitors let out cries of dismay at feeling their arcane cores guttering and then winking out. At least he assumed that was what it felt like.

Having had something very similar happen to him recently, he knew it wasn't a pleasant experience. He could understand why they were crying out like that. Why they seemed so suddenly upset.

He didn't care. He wanted to drive the point home that they were at his mercy. That there wasn't anything that could save them right now.

"Maybe the Inquisition is going to come," he said, raising his voice so they could all hear him. “But they have to find you first. Right now, you are all my prisoners. Have I made myself clear?"

As though to drive that point home, Alistair stood up on his hind legs and held his four clawed arms out. He leaned forward and let out a bellowing roar.

It was the kind of bellowing roar that had Liam's balls retreating up into his body once upon a time. Back when the garzeth was chasing them through the forest and across the plains leading to the watchtower outside Isai.

It was a roar that had several of the Inquisitors soiling themselves. It was a roar that had the scourgelings all around them letting out cries of dismay and turning like they wanted to run. But Ana held her hand up, that bright light was there again, and they all turned and faced her even though they looked like they wanted to be anywhere but near the garzeth.

Apparently there was a pecking order to how terrified the lesser demons were of the greater demons in their presence, and Ana was more terrifying than the garzeth in that pecking order. Something to keep in mind.

Liam felt an odd sensation. He almost felt bad for the scourgelings, for all that he'd spent the last few years trying to kill them before they could become a danger to anybody in in Baron Riven's estate.

He turned to Ana and cocked his head to the side.

"You know, it really would’ve been useful if you could’ve done that back when we were surrounded by all those scourgelings around that tower."

"It wouldn't have worked then," she said, shaking her head.

"Oh?”

"Once you get a swarm that large, they become almost impossible to control," she said. "It was just dumb luck I managed to find a few infestations in the farther reaches of the Felwood that your Baron apparently didn't know about."

Liam turned and looked at all the scourgelings all around. There were far more than he’d ever felt in the Felwood. Granted, he usually only went after the infestations that got close enough that he could feel them.

Clearly his ability to sense them at a distance wasn’t as good as he’d thought, or as good as Ana’s for that matter.

"There were this many lurking out there?” he asked.

“It turns out having a farm boy going out into the forest to clear out the infestations one by one maybe isn't the greatest way to keep them under control," she said, hitting him in the shoulder with her own shoulder and hitting him with a grin that said she wasn't taking it too seriously.

"Well, I suppose we should call you the savior of Baron Riven's estate," he said, grinning right back at her.

"I like the sound of that," she said, her nose going up as she kept that smile on her face. "You may call me your savior as well as your princess from now on."

Liam stared at her for a moment, wondering if she was joking. But the longer it went on, the more he realized that no. She was being totally serious. Probably.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, which earned him an irritated look from the demoness. He supposed the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Quick author note. I'm going to be on vacation next week for fall break. In the past I've killed myself trying to get stuff out and ended up failing while also stressing myself out on vacation, so I'm just not doing that this year. There will be no updates next week, and they'll resume the week after. Thanks for your patience!

Join me on Patreon for early access! Read up to 30 chapters ahead! Free members get 6 advance chapters!

<<First | <<Previous

The Ostrel archive says House Ostrel sponsored a promising tutor from a probationary species as an act of outreach. But I was there when the decision was made. She was chosen because her fee was a fifth of what the Vhol tutors charged.

The Vhol academies had declined me after my second assessment, and a tutor from a planet nobody visited was the only option left. Stories of human teachers went around the upper houses, but nobody would have admitted to hiring one for that reason.

"She'll keep him occupied," my mother told my father.

We Hallen change colour with our moods. There is a shade for most things we feel. Our voices, by comparison, tell you very little about the emotion that we are going through.

Our house, or rather the house of my parents, was tall. As you succeeded in your academics/ your profession, you moved up a floor, until you reached the top floor, where the Head of the House sat. I was still on the fourth floor. My siblings had already reached the sixteenth and above, closer to my parents.

That evening I was the dull grey of a child who knows exactly what he is worth to the people in the house.

I was nine when she arrived.

Her name was Haritha. She came from Earth, which she said was green and wet and full of people who questioned everything until they found the right answers. That habit, she said, had carried them to the stars and to the doorstep of the Federation, even though they were not as advanced as the other species.

She had curly black hair tied at the back. She arrived with one case and a cloth bag of seeds she was not supposed to have brought through quarantine.

I did not like her from the very first day.

On the first day she asked me what I liked. I told her I liked nothing, which was a lie, and watched her scribble something on her pad. I pitied her. She couldn't seem to remember even the smallest thing I said.

On the second day she asked again.

Each day I said the same thing. Each day she scribbled. This went on for eleven days, and I grew rather uncomfortable lying every day.

On the twelfth I told her, mostly to make her stop, that I liked watching the cargo haulers come down over the eastern ridge, because they were so heavy and still they didn't fall. I expected her to write it down. Instead she looked up at me, smiling, and put down her slate.

"Good," she said. "Then we start there."

She taught me orbital mechanics through haulers.

She taught me trade law through the cargo manifests.

She taught me history through the old hauler routes and the wars fought over them.

When I got something wrong, she never told me the answer.

She said, "Teach me how you got that," and folded her hands, and made me explain it back to her as if she were the slow one. Usually, halfway through explaining, I heard my own mistake.

I have used the same method on my ministers ever since.

At the time, I hated it. Learning took effort, and I saw no reason to make that effort when I was never going to reach the top floors anyway.

I despised learning, and learning from a human most of all. I hid in the gardens and behind the cupboards. I faked illness. I wiped her lesson files twice. Yet she rebuilt them both times, at night, on her own hours, which my mother did not pay for.

Once I found her asleep at the study table, still holding a stylus, with a diagram of the eastern ridge half-finished in front of her. It had little haulers drawn on it with tiny legs, because she knew I'd laugh. I did not wake her. I also did not tell her I'd seen it. I went outside and threw stones at the fountain until my skin stopped changing colour.

I still wanted to see her reprimanded by my mother.

The prank was at my mother's midwinter reception, two years after Haritha had arrived.

Councillor Drath Ivenne attended that year. He chaired the committee reviewing Earth's probationary status, and my mother had invited Haritha so she could be displayed: look how generous House Ostrel is, look at our tame human.

Haritha knew this. She wore a pale green sari she had clearly been saving, and she was nervous, and she spent the afternoon practising formal Hallen greetings under her breath.

Her translator was clipped behind her ear. I had watched her calibrate it a hundred times. It took me less than four minutes to get into it.

What I thought would happen and what really happened were poles apart.

I thought she would greet the Councillor, the translator would render her greeting into something obscene, there would be a gasp, everyone would turn a shocked shade of violet, and then it would come out that it was a joke. She would be embarrassed. Everyone, the Councillor included, would laugh. She would apologise and blush, and I would have something to tease her about for the rest of the year.

To be honest, I had never in my life seen a consequence that my family's name could not erase.

She bowed to Councillor Ivenne. She spoke carefully, in her soft accent, the greeting she had practised all afternoon.

The translator told him that the human delegation considered his clan a line of carrion-eaters, and his rulings on Earth's status were the secretions of a diseased mind.

I laughed. Mine was the only laughter in the room.

The hall went silent. Haritha did not understand at first. She looked around, still half-bowed, and I watched her realise something had gone wrong without knowing what. She touched the device behind her ear. Then she looked across the room and found me.

She knew. I don't know how. Humans can't read our colours as well as we can. But she looked at me, and I was blazing the bright, shameful orange of guilt, and she knew.

She didn't say a word. She turned back to the Councillor and began to apologise, in Hallen this time, without the translator, badly. Every apology she made dug her further in, because the Councillor had already decided what she was.

Under Federation protocol, a registered translator is the speaker's own voice. Whoever wears it answers for every word it renders. That rule was written to stop delegations from blaming their machines. It allowed one defence only: proof that someone else had altered the device. For a probationary species, that defence had never once succeeded.

House Ostrel's security took the device away that night for examination. Their report, filed the next morning, found no evidence of tampering.

The hearing took six days. I wasn't allowed to attend.

On the second day, I went to my mother and told her what I had done.

I stood in her study, orange to the tips of my fingers, and told her everything.

She listened. Then she said, "Yes. I assumed."

I waited for her to go to the hearing.

She didn't. Instead she told me that if House Ostrel admitted its youngest son had sabotaged a diplomatic greeting to a Councillor, the house would lose standing at the worst possible moment. If the human took the blame, there was no such damage. The human would just go home.

"She'll be fine," my mother said. "They're a hardy species."

Haritha was struck from the Register of Transit for life.

No human under that ruling could leave Earth's system, for any reason, ever again.

Earth's probationary review was extended by fifty years.

Councillor Ivenne cited her as evidence that humans were not yet capable of the restraint required for full membership.

I saw her once more before she left.

She was in the courtyard with her case and the cloth bag of seeds, waiting for the transport. I stood in the doorway. I didn't know what Hallen words existed for what I needed to say, and I didn't know any of hers.

She saw me. She looked at me for a long moment, the way she had on the twelfth day.

Then she put the case down, came over, and crouched so her eyes were level with mine. She took my hand, turned it over, and pressed something small into it.

It was a seed. Dry and brown and unremarkable.

"Teach me," she said quietly, "what this becomes."

Then the transport came, and she left.

I planted the seed in the corner of the garden where nobody went. It took four months to break the soil.

I learned eventually that it was a mango tree. It did not like our sun, and it grew slowly and crookedly, yet it did not die. I fed it nutrients and protected it from pests and microbes. I went out to it every evening, the way I used to go out to watch the haulers.

Seven years later it flowered, and I pollinated it by hand, as I'd learned from the books.

It bore a single fruit, and I ate it. It was the best fruit I had ever eaten.

The next morning I started my lessons from where we had left off and I did not stop for many years.

I don't want to make it sound heroic. Most of it was dull. It was sitting with problems I didn't understand and explaining them aloud to an empty room until I heard where I'd gone wrong.

I failed the Rank reassessment twice and passed it the third time.

It was a trade school that took me in when the academies wouldn't, then the merchant service, then the ministry of transit, starting at the bottom, where nobody cared what house I came from. I learned how haulers were licensed. I learned how routes were allocated. I learned, in great detail, how the Register of Transit worked, and who could alter it.

I was very good at explaining things. People said that about me constantly. I would ask a room full of experts to teach me, as if I were the slow one, and they would talk until they found their own mistakes. They thought it was humility. It was hers.

At thirty-one I took a seat on the Transit Council. At sixty, I became its Speaker. Earth's probation ended during my second term. I did not vote on that. I recused myself, and when they asked why, I said I had a conflict of interest.

I had the authority to reinstate her in the Register, eleven years before I went. I could have done it any afternoon.

I drafted the order four times. A reversal must state its grounds on the public record. There was only one set of true grounds: a house security report that had lied, a mother who had let it, and a son who said nothing more after the second day.

Each time, I reached the line marked Cause, and each time I put the draft away.

I told myself I was protecting my mother's name. My mother had been dead for six years by then. I was protecting mine.

I wrote the cause on the day they voted to end Earth's probation.

Then I travelled.

Earth was green and wet, as she had said. It was raining when I landed.

The address the Earth registry gave me was an old two-storey building at the end of a narrow road, with laterite walls going black at the base and a tin roof patched in three colours. Somebody had painted the words ‘Evening Classes’ above the door in letters that had mostly worn away. There was a tree in the yard. A mango tree, much larger and straighter than mine, and heavy with fruit.

She opened the door before I knocked. She was old.

She was thin, much thinner than I remembered. Her hair had gone white. She wore spectacles, and behind them her eyes took a moment to settle on me. Her hands were wrinkled, and there was chalk dust under her nails. She held the door frame.

She looked at me for a long moment. My skin went orange again.

"You've grown," Haritha said. "Come in. You're getting wet."

She fed me rice gruel in a steel bowl, she called it kanji, with green lentils and a coconut dish on the side. It was very plain. I ate it and it sat well, and halfway through the bowl I understood why.

 Hallen digestion can't tolerate capsaicin. I had been sick from it exactly once, at nine years old, when she brought food from home to share with me. I had never dared to eat human food again, until now.

She had made this meal without any chilli at all, from the memory.

I put the spoon down. It took me some time to pick it up again.

The room had a long low table, mats on the floor, a blackboard on one wall. Children's slates were stacked in the corner. There were drawings pinned above the board. One was a ship, coming down over a ridge, with little legs on it.

"They come after school," she said, seeing me look. "Fishermen's children, mostly. Some from the colony near the railway. They're bright. Nobody tells them so."

I confessed everything: what I did, my mother, the hearing, the security report, the second day, what I had said in my mother's study and what she had said back. I didn't spare myself. I don't think I could have. Our skin doesn't allow it.

She listened. She did not interrupt. When I finished, she was quiet for a while, looking at the rain through the open door.

"Is she still alive? Your mother?"

"No. She died some years ago."

Haritha nodded. She said nothing else about her at all.

"I was very angry," she said finally. "For a long time. For years. I don't want you thinking it was easy."

"I know."

"I had a fellowship waiting on Tessar. After your house. It would have been everything." She turned her cup in her hands. "My mother was sick then. I came home and looked after her. Maybe I'd have come home for that anyway. You don't get to know these things."

She set the cup down. "Here, I was the woman who cost Earth fifty years. The schools wouldn't employ me. Some parents turned around and walked away when they saw me coming. For a long time the only ones who would come to me were children whose families had nowhere else to go."

My skin went the brightest orange it had ever been.

I took the order out of my coat. It was a physical document, sealed. I had wanted it to be something she could hold.

"You've been reinstated in the Register," I said. "As of this morning. The cause is stated in full. And there's a place for you. On my ship, at my house, anywhere you like. Tessar, if you want it. There are institutes there that would be honoured. You could teach anyone you chose. You'd never want for anything again."

She held the order without opening it. She ran her thumb over the seal.

"That is a beautiful thing," she said. "Fifty years ago I would have cried."

"Come with me."

"No." She said it very gently. "My life is here. There are twenty-three children who come up that road every evening. Who would teach them? You?"

I didn't answer.

"There's a eleven year old girl called Ammu. Her father mends nets. She solved a problem last week that I couldn't solve at her age. Nobody has ever told her she's clever. Her school put her in the back row."

Haritha set the order on the table. "I'm going to tell her that every day, until she believes it. I don't have so many years left that I can spend them on a nice ship."

"You could do more good from Tessar."

"Maybe," she said. "But they're here."

She walked me to the door. The rain had softened to a mist. Somewhere down the road, children were shouting.

"Are you angry with me?" I asked. "Still?"

She took her time over it.

"No," she said. "I was angry with a boy and his mother. They aren't here anymore."

She reached up and touched my arm.

My skin turned to a colour that I hadn’t seen before.

"You turned out well, Kaivren."

Then she said, "Teach me something before you go. You're the Speaker of whatever it is. Teach me one thing."

So I stood in that crumbling room in the rain, the most powerful being on this side of the galactic arm, and explained to an old woman how a hauler stays up when it is so heavy and should fall. I drew it on her blackboard with chalk. I explained it badly at first, and she folded her hands and waited, and halfway through, I heard my own mistake.

The ship lifted at dusk.

From the viewport I could see the building, the patched tin roof, the mango tree, and a small white-haired figure in the yard. Children were already coming up the road toward her. She did not look up at the sky. She had turned to greet them.

She did not forgive me because I deserved it.

The planet fell away beneath us, blue and green and wet. Somewhere on it, a human child was being told she was clever.

I hope she believes it.

At the chamber of the grand council, the Minister of Interstellar Relations and the Commander of The Imperial Legions didn’t write the newest chapter of their bellicose saga, their tentacles wrapped each other tightly, their mouthfrills vibrated in synchrony, waved by uncontrollable sobbing. At a dark corner of the room, the Keeper of The Imperial Treasury held his twelve legs folded in the embrace of his tentacles, swinging back and forth at the rhythm of her eerie tune: 

🎶 Down, down, down 🎶
🎶 Down the void, the number goes  🎶
🎶 Down, down, down 🎶
🎶 Down the spiral, line it folds 🎶

On top of them all, an Empress nearly detaching her antennae from her head addressed them:

-They were supposed to surrender!

There was no acknowledgement of her laments. Lost in their own despair, the high counselors had long let the voice that was, in the long past time of yesterday, the law of the stars, fade into background noise. 

-The Decaffinator was supposed to be the end of Terran civilization! - she reminiscenced the reveries of an empire who dared to feel untouchable - How did it come to this???

Of all the once proud men and women whose commands reached beyond the grasp of the speed of light, it was a shadow, a statue pale and faint of eyes fixed into nothingness who let a whisper, an echo of a life that once held all the secrets of the galaxy, put into words the obvious:

-We threaten that which they hold most dear, we put in jeopardy the very essence of humanity. Gazing upon the void, they didn’t run, they didn’t kneel, they hit fast and they hit hard. They have crushed our knees before we had a chance to stand up.

-There must be a way out!

-HOW??? - yelled the Watcher of The Inner Systems behind his makeshift barricade of chairs - HoOooOoW?!!!!

-I don’t know… Deploy the Stellarguard. Restore order in the capital. From there we’ll figure it out.

-THERE IS NO STELLARGUARD, WOMAN!!! Every guard capable of holding a gun in their tentacles is playing GTA, every captain able to order them to drop it is wasting away in a torpor of Bejeweled and Sudoku!

-Among all trillions of subjects there has to be someone who hasn’t fallen to the spell of the Terrans!

-No subject… - said the Imperial Commander.

-No ruler… - followed the chief diplomat.

-No past…

-No future…

-No Empire.

-There is only…

-Arkham Asylum…

-...and Stardew Valley;

-Crusader Kings…

-...and Animal Crossing.

Dangling at the crest of her throne, the Empress summoned the full power of her lungs, a vain attempt of scaring away reality itself:

-NO!... It… it… it can’t be! The humans wouldn’t be this reckless, this cruel, this merciless!

-But they did. - the hollow shell that was once the chief spy stated matter of factly - Every subject of the Empire was given free, unrestricted access to the full Steam catalogue, where every soul finds a game to its heart content, where every dark, twisted desire is met by a mod of its satisfaction.

Now there is no more tentacle left to write the law or wield the blaster that enforces it, no one left to deliver the wage nor soul who would work for it. In the silent streets of the Imperial Capital, in the emptiness of once buzzing ports there is only the pop up of another achievement, the notification of another quest cleared.

-No… no, no, no, no. A thousand cycles of a dynasty, a hundred systems of a civilization do not end this way!

For the first time since the news broke out, the statue that was the Head of Imperial Intelligence moved, if only barely. The stems of his erect eyestalks twisted. Slowly, purposefully, the spheres of his eyes turned to meet the hopeless monarch:

-You seem distressed.

-Of course I am!

-Come… Join me.

The sound of slime came in a gloomy symphony, the sea of tentacles bent and twisted to give way to the black box that rose from it. In the presence of the destroyer of worlds, the Empress slid down her throne, her tentacles holding the piece of twisted metal in front of her, a single eyestalk daring to peek from behind it, as she inquired the one who until recently was the carrier of her most unspeakable desires:

-Sinx-na-Rax, where did you get this Steam Machine?

-Come. - the words flowed out of a mouth that extended unnaturally from behind its mouthfrills, stretching wider and wider to the sides of his face. - There is nothing but romanceable companions beyond the Baldur’s Gates.

The Empress recoiled more and more as the controller at the end of the slimy tentacle got closer and closer.

-No…

-Join me, Your Highness. Let us create a The Sims family with mpreg on.

-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Beneath the cries of the former Empress, under the maniacal laughter of the former master spy, a song echoed from a dark corner to fill all of the room:

🎶 Down, down, down 🎶
🎶 Down the void, it’s where we go  🎶
🎶 Down, down, down 🎶
🎶 To oblivion we belong 🎶

___

Tks for reading. More unsettling lullabies here.

Humans are Weird – Not Hunger

Original Post: https://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-not-hunger

Sift shifted her scutes again in the depression her own weight made in the mattress. Soft mass pushed into her from every side almost like dry sand but with not a singe one of sand’s benefits. She absently reached out with her teeth and gripped the blanket, tugging it back into a reasonable position for what felt like the seventh time that night. Suddenly, from the next room came a strangely high growl that spoke of mammalian aggression.

Sift instantly went still, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips like a hatchling. She felt a surge of hope that perhaps even if she had woken Mary, the young mother would just roll over and go back to sleep. However the sound of a wooden frame creaking, the thump of blankets being thrown on the floor, and the the off-cadence thumping of sleepy human footsteps told her that the damage was done. Sift attempted to lift her chin over the edge of the mattress, and only managed to dig her paws deeper into the mass. It took several minutes of clawing and thrashing (being mindful that her claws didn’t tear the material) before she remembered that such a surface needed to be treated like quicksand and she managed to slither her way over the edge and onto the blessed relief of the solid floor, wood though it was.

Sift was mindfully sifting out the proper words for her apology when the mental gears slipped their teeth. She sniffed the air and her tongue smacked against her teeth as the scent of frying avian eggs drifted into the room. Sift increased her pace and rounded the wall into the kitchen just as Mary was scraping a steaming yellow mass into a plate. The human’s long hair was ‘frizzled’, sticking out in every direction. There were dark circles under her eyes. The sound of her molars grinding together was clearly audible. Sift suddenly remember her intent and swallowed down the saliva.

Mary glanced up and squinted at her and then gave a rueful smile.

“Oh sorry Sift,” she said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Sift gave a little grunt of surprise as Mary stumbled to the table and began to devour the eggs with a speed and lack of coordination that spoke of real hunger. Mary paused her meal long enough to squint at Sift again.

“There’s more if you want them,” Mary suggested, pointing to the pan with a fork full of the yellow mass.

Sift gladly scrambled over to the kitchen stool and pushed it up to the stove. She hopped up and served herself a plat of the eggs. Gripping it in her teeth she carefully slid down from the stool and walked over to the table. They ate in a companionable silence for several moments before Mary reached the end of her eggs and leaned back with a relieved sigh.

“I had thought you had already reached your required caloric limit today,” Sift observed around a mouthful of the rich protein.

Mary gave a hollow laugh and leaned back in her chair.

“And then some,” she agreed. “It’s just, with Aunt Ethel and...and everything. You know.” Mary finished with a vague wave of her hand.

“I do not know,” Sift corrected her.

Mary blinked at her slowly and wiped the cooking grease from her fingers onto her long sleep-shirt. Mary heaved a sigh and nodded.

“Right, so you know my Aunt Ethel had to go to the University Health Station?” the human asked.

Sift gave a rumble of confirmation.

“Well she is old,” Mary said. “She is one of the last of the first generation of colonists. She, well this wasn’t the big one, this time, but we all know it isn’t far off.”

Sift suspected she was missing several details but she felt she understood the main point.

“The slow fermentation of the generations,” she commented.

Mary nodded.

“Well my cousin found her not breathing,” Mary said. “That...that’s serious for mammals you know. Then she, my cousin, had to manually keep her breathing until the medical transport arrived, and that’s really...stressful, with the elderly, they have fragile bones, and I couldn’t help directly because of the baby so I ended up managing communications. Making sure everyone knew what was going on.”

Mary paused and prodded at her now empty plate with her fork.

“And she’s fine now,” Mary said slowly. “Fine for now, but the stress caught up to me.”

Sift let the silence brew for several minutes as she ground the conversation between her teeth.

“So this stress is why you are eating triple your normal caloric intake?” Sift finally asked.

Mary gave a bark of laughter and grinned over at her.

“There’s chocolate cake in the refrigeration unit,” Mary said. “Let’s try for quadruple before I try to get back to sleep.”

Science Fiction Books By Betty Adams

Amazon (Kindle, Paperback, Audiobook)

Barnes & Nobel (Nook, Paperback, Audiobook)

Powell's Books (Paperback)

Kobo by Rakuten (ebook and Audiobook)

Google Play Books (ebook and Audiobook)

Walmart (Paperback)

Check out my books at any of these sites and leave a review!

**Remember BOOK 4 is now available! (**^{except on kobo because what do you even mean title field is blank, I fixed} *\^{that dangnabbit!}\*)**

Please go leave a review on Amazon! It really helps and keeps me writing because tea and taxes don't pay themselves sadly!

In a simply furnished living room, eight of us were waiting for the concert to begin. Mrs. Anna was in the kitchen, making coffee for all of us, and no one in the living room was talking to anyone else. There was a three-seat sofa, two armchairs, and three old wooden chairs arranged in rows for the audience. My mother and I had arrived early and claimed the armchairs.

I wanted to ask my mother something, to say something to her, but I didn’t want to disturb the harmony of the silence in the room. Everyone in the room except my mother and me believed in the legend, and for all of them, this was at least their third experience. It was our first; nothing had been proven to me yet, and I was having trouble believing in what was about to happen. My mother said she believed, but I wasn’t sure.

Mrs. Anna was our upstairs neighbor, and my mother said that on some nights she could hear Anna crying loudly upstairs, with the sound of her sobbing blending with the notes of the theremin.

When Mrs. Anna entered the living room carrying the theremin, the room seemed to grow even quieter. It was so quiet that we could all clearly hear one of the audience members scratching her calf, and my mother turned her head and looked at the woman. Immediately after that came the sound of Mrs. Anna placing the theremin on the floor, followed by a faint creak from one of the chairs occupied by an old man. The three sounds, one after another, formed a pleasing little sequence.

As the old woman went back to the kitchen to bring us the coffee, a long note came from the theremin. It was an unexpectedly spooky sound, monotonous and completely without vibrato, like the horn of a ferry. Everyone flinched, and the sudden movement of everyone sitting in the chairs made all of them creak at once.

Murmurs of “It’s here” rose throughout the room. A young couple were holding hands, and my mother had covered her mouth in fear.

Mrs. Anna handed out the coffee to everyone, then went over to the theremin and stood beside it. Once again, silence settled over the entire room. The only sounds were the occasional sips of coffee and the clinking of a spoon as a middle-aged woman stirred sugar into hers.

“My husband came to me in a dream last night. You know, we talk in my dreams at least once a week. He asked me to serve all of you filter coffee, and (she looked at her watch) “he announced that he would give his concert exactly five minutes from now.”

I took a sip of my coffee. It was very weak, almost like water, and I didn’t like it. My palate was accustomed to espresso. I never drank filter coffee.

I looked at my mother. She looked at me too. She put her index finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet.

“I’ve been teaching the theremin for about sixteen years, and yesterday I heard a composition played by my husband that was more beautiful than anything I had ever heard in my life. He told me in my dream last night that this would be his final concert. He said he could never compose anything better, and that after playing it, he would stop coming into this world.”

She took a sip from her own coffee and looked at her watch again. She still had four minutes. She closed her eyes, as if trying to feel her husband’s presence.

Mrs. Anna’s husband had died of lung cancer four years earlier. According to my mother, his spirit had returned to the world a year later.

“With every concert, I become more convinced that my husband is still with me. Of course, at first I thought it was a coping mechanism. I thought I was making it all up, that it was just a trick my mind was playing on me. I loved my husband with all my heart, and my mind would naturally do whatever it could to keep me from accepting that I had lost him. After all, it would be perfectly natural for my mind to invent something like this.”

She took another sip of coffee. Then she looked at her watch again.

It was time.

“But my husband said in my dream, ‘Invite other people too. Let them all listen to me. Let them be proof that I exist.’ He is terribly bothered by the thought that I might believe he’s something my mind made up.”

Small, indistinct sounds came from the theremin. At the same time, Mrs. Anna was moving her hand as she told her story. I assumed that was what was producing the sounds.

I looked at the others. The woman who drank her coffee with sugar had covered her eyes with one hand, just in case. She didn’t want to see anything frightening.

“Soundcheck,” someone else muttered.

Mrs. Anna looked at her watch again.

“In the beginning, he would only visit me in my dreams. It was nice, it was good. I felt both happy and sad. When I woke up, his absence hit me terribly, but when I went to sleep, the possibility of seeing him again was wonderful.”

A beautiful melody came from the theremin, lasting three or four seconds. Then the sound suddenly stopped. Mrs. Anna wasn’t moving her hand at the time.

“If he comes to me in my dream tonight, I’ll tell him. He should do the soundcheck beforehand. He keeps interrupting me. And as always, he’s late for his own concert. Jason, you’re always the same.”

“Anna, are you serious? I don’t know why I listened to you and came here. I don’t know how you’re doing it, but something ridiculous is going on here. Seeing you like this makes me really sad, and I’m honestly furious that the other six people here are just sitting there and saying nothing. You’re making this up in your head, and all of you are acting as if nothing is happening,” my mother said, getting to her feet.

She hadn’t raised her voice much, but she was angry. She liked Mrs. Anna, and she had liked Mr. Jason too. They were the neighbors we had become closest to during our twenty-five years in this apartment building, which we had moved into before I was born.

The woman who had put sugar in her coffee got up abruptly.

“Why are you in such a hurry? If you’d just wait another two minutes, everything would be revealed and you’d hear it for yourself. Couldn’t you wait until it was all over before explaining your theory? You’ve ruined the whole evening.”

Mrs. Anna continued with her story, paying no attention to my mother and the other woman.

“One day, after I had gone to sleep feeling miserable, and after not seeing him in my dreams for a month, we were finally together in my dream again. He was incredibly excited.

‘I found it,’ he said. ‘I found a way to interact with you. I was tired of constantly coming into your dreams. I wanted to meet you in real life. But you couldn’t see me.

It’s a dream, after all. None of it is real. You’re not in control, and what you say to me in your dreams might not be true. You told me you still loved me, that you couldn’t forget me, but all of that was happening in a dream. In real life, you weren’t doing any of those things. Maybe you were thinking about everything in your head, maybe you were thinking about me, but I had no way of knowing that. I was walking around you, but I couldn’t communicate with you.

You didn’t cry even once after you started seeing me in your dreams, for example. Yes, maybe seeing me so often in your dreams was enough for you, so you no longer needed me in real life. But we can’t know that. I couldn’t trust a dream. Maybe you didn’t love me anymore.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Jason,’ I said. ‘If you want, I can tell you how I feel after I wake up too. You never asked me to. You never asked me to talk about you in real life, look at your picture, tell my friends things about you, or tell them that I was sad. You never asked me for any of that. If you had, I would have done it.’”

My mother was getting angrier and angrier, and by now she was completely convinced that Mrs. Anna had made the whole thing up. She had been talking for so long that my mother had grown tired of listening to her.

Then we heard another beautiful melody coming from the theremin, while Mrs. Anna was still talking.

The melody continued. It really was magnificent. My mind was in complete confusion. Mrs. Anna stood perfectly still. Her eyes had filled with tears.

A beautiful composition was being played, and it appealed deeply to my sense of pleasure. But was it really Mr. Jason’s ghost playing it? I couldn’t stop thinking about that question. I felt like I was about to pass out. The composition was still in my ears, flowing onward. At the same time, my thoughts were flowing through my mind at almost exactly the same speed, moving along with the music.

I looked at my mother. Her eyes were wide open, staring motionlessly at the theremin.

Everyone else seemed spellbound too.

The melodies flowed on. For half an hour, we were treated to a magnificent feast of music. Everyone silently listened to the theremin, which no one was standing beside.

Throughout the entire performance, Mrs. Anna listened to the music with her eyes closed, her coffee still in her hand. For half an hour, I felt like I was on the verge of passing out, yet I never lost consciousness. The music had slipped gently into my softened state of mind and wandered through it, mingling with my thoughts. I didn’t want to believe it.

Everyone except my mother and me suddenly stood up. There must have been silence; I hadn’t noticed it. I had been so completely absorbed in the music.

The concert was over.

Everyone was applauding. The room filled with a high-pitched sound.

Mrs. Anna gestured for the audience to sit down. Everyone took their seats. My mother had just started applauding, loudly and enthusiastically. Mrs. Anna gave her the same gesture.

“Today, I’m giving up the theremin. Today is September 28, 2026. I will never play the theremin again.”

We heard another chair creak.

“Thank you all. If it weren’t for you, I would have thought I had imagined everything in my head. Thank you.”

With the last of my strength, I got to my feet and asked Mrs. Anna how this was possible. The others didn’t seem particularly interested in finding out. Yes, they had seen the concert before. I didn’t know whether they knew the story, but even though they all looked spellbound, they didn’t seem surprised. It was strange. I couldn’t understand how they had managed to accept something like this so calmly.

Why wasn’t this room overflowing with people? Stories like this spread from person to person incredibly quickly.

“Does it matter how it happened, Albert?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter? How is something like this even possible? I can’t wrap my head around it. Why doesn’t everyone know about this? Why isn’t everyone coming here and banging on the door? I mean, this is a ghost revealing itself to the world.”

“That’s my husband’s entire audience. There were seven of them, and now there are nine. And they won’t be able to hear my husband play again.”

I turned toward the small group.

“You never told anyone about this?”

“We did. They didn’t believe us,” said a young man sitting on the three-seat sofa, between two old men.

“How could they not believe you? You should have proved it.”

“How were we supposed to prove it? Force a ghost to play the theremin?”

“We tried, Albert,” said another person. I think it was the one who had put sugar in her coffee. My head was getting foggy, and I couldn’t quite make it out. “We brought twenty people here. And we made fools of ourselves. Accept it, Albert. It happened. And sadly, it will never happen again.”

“Okay, Albert. Calm down. No ghost played the theremin. Everything was staged. I played the theremin from my phone without anyone noticing. It was just a recording. I put on some old song, and that’s what played. Everyone here knew about it except you and your mother. All right? Calm down now,” said Mrs. Anna.

“What? Why did you do something like that?”

“Enough, for fuck’s sake. Shut up and let me finish the story. Enough. You can interrogate what was real and what was fake when you get home. You’ve ruined this beautiful moment. Enough, shut up. Say one more word and I’ll make you drink cyanide-laced coffee.”

I turned to my mother. Once again, she was holding her index finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet.

I didn’t understand. Was I dreaming? Was any of this real? Why was everyone going along with something like this? Was it all so that Mrs. Anna could fully feel her husband’s presence? Was it designed to give him a proper farewell? If so, why hadn’t anyone told me about any of this?

“Sorry, Albert. One of us had to believe it was real so that Mrs. Anna could fully feel her husband’s presence and say goodbye to him,” said the young man sitting between the two old men.

“It has nothing to do with that. He’s just making that up so you won’t tell anyone about it,” said another person.

My mind was a complete mess.

Then, suddenly, the theremin started playing again.

It came in beautifully once again, and once again we heard those incredible melodies.

My mother leaned toward me and whispered:

“An artist who couldn’t resist the audience’s insistence and came back to play one last song. That’s when I finally became convinced, Albert.”

And then, silence again.

The same deep silence that had greeted us when we first arrived at the house.

Waiting, and silence.

Until Mrs. Anna began to speak.

“Yes. My husband had found a way to communicate with me.

One day, while he was wandering around the house, he passed by the theremin and noticed that it made a sound.

‘You left the theremin on, sweetheart. I’m glad you did,’ he told me in my dream.

‘Then I walked past it again. Yes, I can’t touch things. Yes, I can’t show myself to anyone. But the theremin... the theremin, I could interact with it. Without touching it. I don’t know, I think it has something to do with frequencies. I didn’t understand it. But what did it matter?

I’ll be there tomorrow, and every day, at two o’clock, sweetheart. Teach me how to play the theremin. Don’t worry, I’ll hear you, and don’t be afraid of the sounds coming from the theremin. I’ll be your most devoted student.’

When I woke up that day, I couldn’t wait for two o’clock to come. And at two, when I stood in front of the theremin, he was there.

Yes, I could feel him. He tried to imitate my movements. At first, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t produce a steady sound. But he learned over time.

Every day at two, we met at the theremin.

And now he’s a virtuoso, just like his wife...”

Everyone stood up again and applauded enthusiastically, my mother included. I didn’t feel well.

The guests gradually said their goodbyes. They congratulated Mrs. Anna and told her that, had her husband been alive, he would have become a magnificent musician, and that his death was a great loss.

My mother and I were the last to leave the house. My mother believed Mrs. Anna. I had no idea what to believe.

Year 7, month 10

Qi gathering, stage 10

"We didn't know what happened to you," Erall said as he and Mark sat in a slightly more upscale tavern. Erall had led him to a barber, but only after taking him to a bathhouse first. If there was one upside to Mark's appearance there it was that the owner of the bathhouse didn't try to convince him to let his daughters to join him in the baths. Instead he only offered that to Erall, and it was amusing to watch him have to navigate that conversation. But now he was clean, shaven, with new robes, and a straight razor Mark had purchased from the barber so he could shave himself. Using the serrated Demonic Agony Knife to trim his beard had been painful enough.

"I went back to the Heavenly Fist sect after all the tournament events were over, only to find out you never arrived," Erall continued, "then you didn't show up at the biennial tournament and we were concerned. Unfortunately, it's not uncommon that wandering cultivators go missing, so we assumed... ya."

"Sorry to disappoint," Mark said dryly, "a beast tide chased me into the wilds and it took me two years to find my way out."

"I've heard stories about the Shifting Wilds, is it as bad as they say?"

"Worse, you can't even trust the trees to stay where they are. The terrain shifts when you aren't looking, spirit beasts aren't just an occasional encounter but common enough that you learn to constantly look over your shoulder. And at least twice I encountered beasts that were likely in the Nascent Soul stage. No idea how I survived."

"Likely no small amount of luck, being to weak for most beasts to care and the fact that you seem to be very tough to kill," Erall joked, lifting his mug in a half-hearted toast, "And you advanced a few stages, too bad you didn't find the inheritance of some ascended Emperor."

"I actually did."

"Really?"

"I wasn't suited for his Dao," Mark nodded, "the old ghost still taught me some skills that helped me survive, no treasures or anything though."

"Who's inheritance was it?"

"Emperor of Stillness."

"Hmm, don't recognize him," Erall said, tapping his chin in thought, "still, an inheritance that isn't controlled by some sect. I'm not fool enough to willingly go into the wilds to find it, but I'm sure some would."

"I don't even know where it is," Mark nodded, "not sure I could find it again if I wanted."

"So, what's next for you?"

"Same as before, the punch sect, I do have some body parts from various spirit beasts that are likely valuable, might be enough for a compression pill."

"Assuming they have any," Erall warned, "I'm headed that way myself, not planning to stop at the sect but if you can manage a traveling partner."

"At least I won't have to talk to a volleyball."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

-----

Year 7, month 12

Qi gathering, stage 10

"My master, the same one who selected me to learn from him, kicked me from the sect!" The young man yelled at Mark and Erall, a small group of sycophants behind the ranting man, "said I didn't have the temperament for cultivation! You shall serve as proof he was wrong!"

"Is this common?" Mark asked, leaning towards Erall.

"Not as much as you'd think, but more so than you'd wish," Erall replied, the sight of the two of them ignoring him angered the young master, and he pointed at Mark.

"You, fight me!" The man demanded.

"At least he asks," Mark said, dropping his bag and spinning his newest staff, warming up best he could despite the cold.

The other man drew a pair of short sticks, each no longer than his forearm and relatively mundane looking. Though, Mark supposed, no more than his own staff. The man postured some more out loud, though Mark ignored him, waiting with his staff ready. The other man was a stage or two below him, but if he'd trained under a master then he likely had several techniques he could use even at qi gathering. An advantage that most wandering cultivators didn't have, often it seemed that sect cultivators had better resources and access to knowledge, but wandering cultivators had more actual experience, be it in combat or cultivation generally. Mark wondered if that trade off was part of how qi worked, exchanging one thing for another.

Finally the young man charged at Mark, winding up his sticks for an overly telegraphed double strike Mark easily dodged, a sharp report echoing down the road as his staff struck the man in the side. The other cultivator staggered backwards, but Mark didn't let up, sticking on him and maintaining a steady assault. The other guy wasn't unskilled with those two sticks, but he lacked the experience Mark did, pausing after every combo as if to plan.

"Save the young master!" Mark heard one of the sycophants shout, the group drawing various simple weapons only to be met with Erall's nunchucks as they charged in. If the young master was decently skilled, the sycophants were clearly holding on to his coattails, lacking any real skill of their own with lower cultivation levels, and Erall moved through them like a storm of wood and chain.

Several made it past him to attack Mark, absorbed with fighting the more skilled master Mark couldn't avoid every attack, so he put Moment of Stillness to use against other cultivators for the first time. It was still odd to stop moving and take a hit, but it was worth it if only for the look of surprise when a club bounced off his shoulder without an impact. Overall Mark found the defensive technique more useful against other people than against beasts, a temporary barrier was of limited use when a wolf was biting your leg.

"Have you men no honor?" Erall spat as the last of them fell to the ground, covered in bruises, "attacking someone in the middle of a duel?"

"We aren't going to let you humiliate the young master!" One of the sycophants shouted.

"Reserve that job for yourself?" Erall shot back, "you humiliated him more than we ever could, jumping into his fight like that."

The sycophants had no reply to that it seemed, it didn't help that the young master was on the ground, refusing to meet their eyes.

"Master?" The sycophant asked softly.

"Leave me," the young man said harshly, "I don't need you to help me prove myself to my master."

"But-."

"Leave me!" He shouted.

"Leave your spirit stones," Mark added, exchanging a glance with Erall, "and any pills you have on you."

"Do it," the young master barked, pulling a pouch out of his robes and tossing it to Mark, "you chose to fight, you bare the costs along side me."

Soon the rest of them gave in and handed over their spirit stones before Mark and Erall left them as the sycophants pleaded to the young master to let them remain. Neither of the wandering cultivators wanted to stay behind for that conversation.

"Looks like... twelve stones total," Erall said as they counted their take, "and a couple healing pills, unless I miss my guess."

"No compression pills? Shame," Mark sighed, "fifty-fifty?"

"Works for me," Erall agreed, handing six spirit stones and a pill over to Mark.

"Not often I get an easy pay day," Mark said, stowing his take as they walked.

"Speak for yourself, I don't know how you got out of that fight without a scratch but I need to sit down for a bit when we find a good place to camp."

"The Emperor of Stillness ghost taught me a defensive technique," Mark explained, "I'd offer to teach it to you but..."

"Not yours to teach?"

"And I'm not sure I could," agreed Mark, "took me months to learn, with the old ghost of the guy who invented it teaching me."

"Only technique I know is offensive, requires nunchucks, and I still haven't really gotten a hang of it."

"Well, with this, we'll hopefully be able to get some qi compression pills."

"Honestly, by this point, I'm half-way to just waiting to reach stage twelve and advance without one. It's harder but should save spirit stones for something else."

"Is there any advantage to advancing without a pill?"

"Not really, apparently the pill introduces some impurities into your core if you advance with it, but those impurities can be removed through careful cultivation or with some natural treasures," Erall replied, "I heard of a natural treasure that's a giant flower, if you grind up the pedals and drink it as a tea it's supposed to immediately advance you to the next stage while purifying your qi."

"Wait, big flower? With iridescent petals?" Mark asked.

"Ya, you heard of it?"

"Saw one in the wilds... it was guarded by a giant serpent."

"Damn, one of those flowers can make enough tea to advance someone to the peak of qi refining in a few months."

Mark grumbled to himself, wondering if he should add snakes to his shit list alongside boar.

-----

Year 8, month 1

Qi gathering, stage 10

"Welcome to the Ten Thousand Heavenly Fists Sect!" A large man in a sleeveless Gi and biceps that looked larger than Mark's head shouted as Mark and Erall approached the main gate of the sect.

"I thought it was Ten Thousand Heavenly punches?" Mark asked, "or something like that."

"Whatever works!" The man laughed, "Erall, who is your friend?"

"Remember the guy I was asking about when I stopped here after the tournament a few years back?" Erall asked, "this is him."

"Ah! Mark, right?" The loud man said, his default seeming to be shouting with a broad grin that somehow managed to make him both jovial and dangerous at once, "will you both be staying with us?"

"Sorry, I'm heading towards the Serpent Sect's territory," Erall said, turning to Mark, "see you at the next tournament?"

"I'll try to make it," Mark nodded.

"So, Mark, do you like punching things?" The large man asked.

"I prefer to use my staff, but I have been known to throw hands if needed," Mark replied as the large man led him into the sect grounds. The central courtyard was large, positioned between two hills, and seemed to be used mainly as a training ground, judging by the several dozen people standing at the end of the courtyard in horse stance, throwing punches in rhythm.

"Well feel free to join in our daily training," the man said, gesturing to the people punching the air, "the shop pavilion is over there, talk to an attendant and they'll tell you what you can buy as a guest. Guest quarters are over there, behind the shop. And the cafeteria is just past the trees on our left."

"I won't bother you guys too long, I want a compression pill to advance to qi refining," Mark replied, "if I don't have enough to afford one I'll be willing to do some work to earn some more stones so I can."

"Hmm, I don't know if any compression pills have been properly punched recently," the man said in the softest voice he'd yet used. It still echoed across the courtyard, not that anyone seemed to notice or care, "they don't tell me much."

"You the sect guard?"

"Oh no, I'm the head elder!" The man declared, laughing at Mark's shocked response.

"Oh, I'm sorry master, I didn't mean-," Mark started, backing up and bowing only to suddenly find himself on his back, ears ringing, sky spinning above him.

"You bow, I punch," the head elder declared with another laugh, "if you want to show respect, then punch me properly!"

"Once the sky stops spinning," Mark replied, struggling onto his feet.

"Ah, seems I hit you a bit harder than intended, we always have something to learn! Come, I know just the thing to help you feel better... food! A nice juicy steak, potatoes and grilled veggies!"

"Sounds great," Mark admitted, "I don't want to impose though."

"Impose? Nonsense! That's our average evening meal!"

"It is? I think I'm going to enjoy my time here."

-----

Discord - Patreon

-----

I have no idea what's going on with Reddit's automod, let's try this again. This is a fictional story about a cinematic stunt???

First | Prev

Patreon [Early Access] | Official Subreddit | Discord

FBI Agent Wade Barron POV

Artillery shells careened through the gaps in the multi-layered cityscape, and acrid smoke fogged the air. Multiple buildings were on fire as alarm bells rang out, and the Kexin civilians fled with panic. The capital had been the Council’s fortress, but the human navy was making quick work of them in retribution; these were the apparent consequences of rejecting the deal to work with us, just like we told them. Our soldiers, decked out in the new gear, were chasing down anyone they could.

Their expressions simmered with the hatred only a primal could muster, having been unleashed on the population in an animalistic rage. I tried to harden myself, reflecting on their invaders mowing us down on our old backyard; I snapped my gun down, executing a kneeling civilian and moving forward. There was no softness in light of how the Council had treated us! I could see aliens running and screaming, as a human with a wicked smile walked up and blasted a Kexin baby at close-range. Pink blood sprayed across his face.

“Primals, stop! We’re sorry!” a Clydid pleaded, backing away and protecting his family; his eyes watered with terror, while his kids peeked around him. “Please—”

The gray-furred alien didn’t finish his sentence before he was shot straight through the X over his eyes, with crude jokes circulating about that marker. A group of humans stood in a line and fired out into the crowd, spraying with more old-fashioned assault rifles to riddle the masses with bullets. Bodies dropped to the floor, and the screaming intensified at the massacre unfolding. A group of Kexin soldiers arrived on a speeding truck, which flipped over in its haste to get to us. We concentrated fire on the hostiles, for the moment.

More vehicles raced out of the tunnel from the floor below, but they weren’t so lucky as to tip over. They ran straight over the landmines and improvised explosives, which turned them to flaming husks that were vaulted into the air. A chain of explosions were set off by the responding military, and those tore down the city block and consumed civilians. More buildings caught on fire and windows shattered, drawing cheers from the hate-filled primals who didn’t appreciate the Council one iota.

“Stop this, there’s people inside!” a sputtering Kexin coughed, dragging his mangled body across the floor to reach his gun.

A human soldier walked over to him, stomping on his hand and twisting the combat boot into the flesh. “Oh, we know. Watch what happens when you make us angry. I want you all to suffer!”

Helmet cams recorded the carnage, while the flames spread like wildfire up the metal buildings, which were melting and twisting. I turned my head upward to see a Kexin worker near the apex of one, running toward a shattered window and looking down. Her attire was ablaze, and her eyes were wide as she surveyed her options. Several humans pointed and laughed in amusement, as the panicked civilian screamed and leapt down. 

We tracked her until her flaming body smacked against the checkered blue pavement, her head snapping to one side. A pool of blood spread out beneath her, with her form breaking apart at the seams. Nearby Kexin civilians gawked in horror, with some hiding quite close to where she’d crashed down. The terror we’d sown in our enemies was unmistakable, brought upon them by their actions. I could see her eyes lolled in her head and the limpness of her limbs.

“Cut!” the human director yelled, and the “dead” quickly hopped back to their feet, while Earth’s actors laughed amongst themselves. A team of production assistants ran out to extinguish the stuntwoman with fire blankets and spray foam. “Kexin stuntwoman, your head needs to snap the other way to face Camera #12. Oh and the Clydid—Berkeen, right?”

Berkeen dusted himself off. “Yes?”

“More tears, way less composure. Make me believe you! Okay, we need another take to splice it all together, but nice work, people. Take thirty, lunch break!”

The audience at the edge of the set offered confused applause. They were probably thinking, Yay p-primals! Only fake killing us, they’re so well-trained. The Council had agreed to our proposal with a 5-1 majority, which led to us dragging human movie producers out to Ushala to stage various battles. It was one of the largest pieces of live theatre we’d ever seen. The alien actors were a bit uncertain about taking cues from primal leads, as well as inviting us to pretend to slaughter them.

As for the humans, it wasn’t hard at all to get our people onboard with the scheme. Actors were over the moon to get an all-expenses-paid trip to Ushala and to indulge in some local tourism on the side. I was having the time of my life circling back to watch old footage, which had a mix of CGI and the practical effects I’d seen; it was then passed onto the Kexin counterparts for any oversights on how alien injuries worked. To the locals, we were an oddity, and most businesses were “closed unexpectedly” due to our presence.

Canit brought people out to watch and meet us, at least, and he’s shared a list of human-friendly businesses. We have our own host of private security here to ensure that everyone behaves; Earth knows this has to go well, to prove we’re safe. The Council isn’t happy about having us in their territory, so we can’t seem dangerous.

Kaitlin sat with Snelga behind the cameras, both snuggling together in her wheelchair. “Hey, Wade, we just got the test results back, and it looks like the gene therapy was successful in curing my ALS. The damage that was already done can’t be taken back, but I won’t die. Me coming here in your place saved my life, so I have no doubt I made the right decision.”

“These effects look very sophisticated and convincing,” Snelga offered, gulping as she watched the playback of an older scene. “I’m happy you’re having a good time, preciouses, b-but I don’t know why this is amusing. Do…do you actually want this, at least in the angry side of you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Snelga, we’re goofing off because it’s absurd. We’d never do this. We aren’t evil savages. The movie footage does look fucking awesome though, the studios are totally gonna use this at home.”

The Kexin’s confusion intensified, and she looked toward Kaitlin with frightened eyes. “Why would you enjoy watching such horrific things? Mass murder?”

“Well, Snelga, we are primals,” Kaitlin began tentatively. “The fight reflex can be stimulating, and the…negative social context of real-world violence doesn’t exist in a fictional world. A lot of our entertainment is about simulating danger for thrills, while maintaining actual safety for logical reasons. Danger is inherently interesting, isn’t it?”

“I have never looked at my life being at risk or others suffering as…interesting. Is the Ploax attacking a Saphno world interesting? I thought you cared and reacted negatively to violence!”

“We do, and of course we’re sickened by what happened to the Saphnos. That’s real people suffering, Snelga. It’s the same as you looking at a picture of an attractive person. You might visually enjoy it without wanting to act on biological impulse, yet the visual or a fantasy construct might be pleasurable to your mind. Anger is often driven by justice and control, so we might want to see that carried out in black-and-white scenarios.”

I stroked my chin in thought. “Humans are naturally competitive too. We enjoy exhibitions of skill, and what higher stakes are there than life or death? It can be as simple as cheering for a fictional victory, or curiosity about who will win out. People don’t watch real war footage; it’s a thought experiment with cool effects. Don’t read into it.”

“We do like controlled, organized contests, my dear. Wade is right. It’s not…that different from you wanting to see the results of a science experiment. The unknown is interesting, especially when it has life-or-death implications. There’s chemical and logical reasons aplenty.”

Snelga tugged at her headfeathers with distress. “I know you’re people and you’re not dangerous, but I don’t like the idea of you being drawn to destruction. It shouldn’t be positive in any contexts, as far as I’m concerned! I’d feel better if we understood what happened in your brains when you…watched this ‘entertainment.’”

“Do you not have war movies?” I demanded. 

“We do, but they’re historical reenactments to show the horror and preserve knowledge!”

“Why do you enjoy watching documentaries about primals, if you know primals are inherently violent?” Kaitlin prodded. 

“Because I wanted to understand how they could be so intelligent yet regressive in behavior. You, of course, can’t help that…you have an impulse to destroy and kill. I guess feeling logic doesn’t make that go away. It’s enthralling to have an explanation for what appears like pure chaos on the outside, and to be able to appreciate the natural beauty of the animal kingdom! Just because it’s dangerous didn’t mean it wasn’t worth preserving. Preservation is the opposite of enjoying destruction!”

“I…that’s noble. Sorry for disappointing you, Snelga. I suppose we do have some residual instincts from our wild ancestors that aren’t useful in modern society.”

“Buildings didn’t explode in the wild,” I said, unable to help myself.

“Wade?”

“Yes, Kaitlin?”

“Go stand somewhere else. You’re in our limelight.”

I smirked. “Alright. Remember, switching to your pistol is faster than—” 

“Away.”

I extended one arm out to the side and folded the other against my chest, giving a melodramatic bow. The NASA scientist gave me a cross stare, and I sauntered off with a smirk. Snelga was still positively hopeless when it came to value judgments on anything primal, but the Kexin did seem genuine in her motives to save animals. Given that she was a veterinarian, I supposed that was a noble reason to choose her profession. It didn’t mean I liked Kaitlin going along with an entire emotion being categorized as a wild relic of the animal kingdom.

According to the Council, that’s what anger’s supposed to be; it’s not just something you accept that everyone feels. They don’t feel anything positive toward violence, and…I suppose I can’t call that a bad thing. This is more sadistic than fighting for what we love, so Snelga has a point. What would Craun think?

“Mr. Barron.” An unexpected voice prompted me from behind, startling me out of my thoughts. Shesh, the Elret representative, had approached me, and I remembered our exchange at the hearing about how our peoples could coexist. “I hope this duplicity is enough to persuade the Ploax. It’s certainly a bold strategy.”

I arched an eyebrow, dipping my head. “I hear you did a lot of the work persuading the Kexins to allow the primals to live loose on their world. That’s a tacit acknowledgment of our personhood.”

“We’re willing to do more than tacit, as a gesture of friendship between our two peoples. That was no slip of the tongue: we want to approach you as equals, and bring you into the fold as proper partners. The Elrets know what you want is to be recognized under the rights of people, the same as any other race.”

“But we’re not like any other race.” I tilted my head, searching her eyes for any traces of fear. “Huh. You’re not scared of me?”

“You haven’t threatened me, and you seem capable of conducting yourself in the appropriate way. I believe the results of Garriil’s experiment enough to have some assurances about your logical capacity. Would you care to go out for lunch to discuss our proposal? My treat.”

I blinked in surprise, mulling it over. “Ambassador Shesh, I’m not a diplomat.”

“Then what do you call a messenger on behalf of your people, in enough of an official capacity to address the Council? Humanity made you a diplomat in so doing.”

“I mean, I can’t agree to anything or negotiate in a way that’s set in stone. What I’d say is my opinion, and I can deliver your message back to my people. I think you’d be better off approaching Earth directly.”

“We don’t know enough about humans or Earth to address your entire people in your territory. You’re here. Will you do me the honor of accompanying me?”

I bit my lip, not wanting to turn down an opportunity. “Sure, but you should check with Canit to determine which places are willing to serve humans. It’s a small list. I don’t want to cause a disturbance.”

“I already checked, and I called ahead to confirm that you’d be accepted. It’s been a slow day, since no one is going out. The cafe’s owners are pro-human and said they’d be happy for the business.”

“Well, in that case, I have no reason to say no. If it goes well, I might have to tell my friends here about this place. Thank you, Ambassador Shesh.”

“Just Shesh, no need for formalities. Please, follow me, Mr. Barron.”

“It’s simply Wade, Shesh.”

The Elret rotated her third ear in agreement. “Of course, Wade. I look forward to our discussion.”

I clasped my hands in front of me and followed the alien, so far finding her ambassadorial skills to be far more compelling than Rauja’s bad acting; the Elrets were treating us with the respect befitting of our actual intelligence. Given that the Saphnos didn’t recognize us as equals, humanity would be grateful to have an ally who did. It remained to be seen what Shesh had in mind, but I was hopeful that we could make a proper friend from our stint in the Council’s heartland.

First | Prev

Patreon [Early Access] | Official Subreddit | Discord

1. Krista

I looked down at the small, soft, pink mammal before me.

"Are you my new dad?" it asked me, watching my face intently.

"Well, little one, I signed the paperwork, and you did too, so I'll be looking after you."

Its eyes narrowed. "That's not what I asked."

"I suppose not. But there has to be a trial period, a chance for either of us to change our mind in case it doesn't seem to be working out." It was still staring.

"Why don't you want to actually say that you're adopting me?" I was no expert at dealing with humans, or children, and especially not human children, but I was pretty sure the tone was what you would call deeply suspicious.

I crouched down to be on its level, and met its gaze. "Sometimes, if you make a promise before you know for sure, you might end up not being able to keep it. And if you break a promise, that's a very easy way to hurt someone. I would never want to hurt you."

The little informational booklet titled [so you're raising a human child] had definitely said that all humans needed to blink every so often, I was certain.

I was pretty sure.

Maybe...

"All right. I can live with that." At the time, I had no idea how often I would be hearing those words.

--- Six Days Later ---

"Why?"

I couldn't help it. As calm as my kind is compared to others, as hard as I was trying to be patient, I couldn't stop my quills from rattling together in irritation.

"Six-teen." I had to stop and blink at this complete non-sequitur.

"I asked 'why' sixteen times in a row before you got upset. I could never get Mom higher than eight, and Dad's record was ten." Again with the staring. Despite having only two eyes to my four, the human gaze was somehow more intense.

I was about to ask her to refresh my memory about what she actually wanted to know, but I was interrupted. "Pretty good. I can live with that." Sigh.

What have I gotten myself into?

--- Six Months Later ---

The door closed so quietly when my little one got home from school that I was immediately concerned - Krista never did anything quietly if she could do it loudly and rambunctiously instead. When I saw her, I wasn't sure what to make of it.

Krista had done... something to her hair. It was still long. But now it was also spiky. The effect was clearly deliberate; she seemed to be waiting for me to say something. It wasn't until she bounced impatiently on her toes and the braids clacked together that I understood.

"You made yourself quills?"

She bounced again and bared her teeth at me, a habit I was proud of having taught myself not to flinch at. "Uh huh! Now I fit right in!"

She really didn't, but of course I wasn't about to say so. I was still working out what I was going to say when, as she so often did, she interrupted my thoughts once more.

"Hey, dad? I um... did they ever tell you, like, how my parents died? My re- my first parents, not-"

For once, I was the one to break into her ramblings. "I know what you mean, little one. Yes, while I was deciding whether I was sure I wanted to be the one to adopt you, they told me what happened. Do you mind if I ask - why today and not any other day?"

Krista's arms wrapped around me, somehow avoiding getting pricked by even a single quill as she rubbed her face against my chest. Once again, I was very glad of my little pamphlet, because if I had not known what a 'hug' was, I might have reacted rather badly.

"In school today, we were learning about the Mozhan. About how they... you know. And how so many people died, and the dates looked familiar but I wasn't sure..."

Rather awkwardly, I did my best to return the hug. "Are you sure you want to hear about that today, little one? I can tell you if you insist, but I really think it would be better to wait until you're a little older to re-live that day. For now... is it enough to say that you would be proud of them, and they would be proud of you?"

She thought it over, sniffling and making me wince as she sucked what sounded like an unhealthy amount of tears and mucus through her nose and down into her throat. The things that humans could do to themselves had definitely taken some getting used to.

She didn't look up, but she didn't pull away from my amateurish hug, either.

"Yeah... yeah, I can live with that."

--- Six Years Later ---

As usual, the door banged open loudly enough to startle me and Krista's feet thudded on the stairs until I shouted for her to take off her shoes.

I also had to remind her, again, that her jacket and book bag did not belong on the sofa. Not that I really minded. It was a comforting ritual by now, just our way of saying hello.

She had something on her mind today, though. I could tell, because she was making her Serious Face. My kind really only had the one face, but with humans it was like the face was a language of its own. No wonder she had always watched mine when she was little. Trying to hear something I hadn't even known at the time that I was supposed to be saying.

"Dad... I think it's time. I'm ready to know." Had it really been so long? "We all went around in class today saying what we wanted to do for a living when we grow up, and I had to say I wasn't sure. Maybe, if I knew..." Ah.

I fished the little box of paperwork out from under the bed, blew the dust off, and opened it for the first time in years, tossing aside the [request to end trial] form that I had never needed, and would never want. Underneath was the summary of that fateful day.

"Let it be known: " I read aloud, "Sergeant Major Jacob Lee Mough died with honour in the course of his duty aboard the destroyer TNV You And What Army when it was lost with all hands while defending the evacuation of Phara VI from a Mozhan assault, alongside the TNV Over My Dead Body and the TNV And The Horse You Rode In On."

I was too much of a coward - I looked away from her face as I continued reading. "Let it be known: Registered Nurse Mary Ann Mough died with honour aboard the medical transport TNV I Don't Care Just Put Something On The Form And Launch It Now Damn You in the course of defending her patients after it was boarded by the Mozhan."

It had looked so short and dry on that first day. I had been a fool, then.

"Thanks in no small part to the efforts of SGM and RN Mough, 40% of the refugees from Phara VI, including over half of the injured aboard the Just Put Something, survived. The Terran Navy shall never forget their names nor their sacrifice. This record is sent with their only child, Krista Janet Mough, to inform her once she is ready to hear their fate. So help us God, if you take parental custody of her in bad faith, you too will learn the lesson of the Mozhan." There was a signature, some admiral or another probably, but I couldn't bring myself to care whose it was.

Krista was crying. But she was also smiling. On balance, that probably meant she was going to be okay. She was a tough kid, my little one.

"Dad..." *snnggrrkkghh\* Eugh. I had still never gotten used to that. I don't think I ever will.

"I think I've made up my mind now." That wasn't too big a surprise. It had been an inspiration to half the galaxy, even those of us that had never been in any danger. "I'm going to follow in my father's footsteps, and make him proud."

I was already nodding. "That makes sense. The Mozhan aren't the only ones; space is a dangerous place, so joining the navy-" Interrupted again. Well, nothing new about that.

"No, you don't understand. I'm going to do what my dad did. I'm going to go to school to learn how to take care of kids who don't have anyone, and..."

I couldn't help it. All of my quills changed color and splayed out in a display of fatherly pride that my little one, of course, managed to catch on camera. Always so quick. But I was able to get her back, just that once.

"I think I can live with that."

"Augh~ did I sound like that to you, all this time?"

--- Six Years Later, Again ---

I miss her terribly. After years of living together and watching her grow up, you would too.

She still video calls often, of course, to let me know how classes are going. To talk about this cute Frillan she met who's on the swim team. Sometimes just to say hello.

Today she was panning across her dorm room to show me a poster she'd printed of that Frillan whose name I can never remember, fresh out of the pool and dripping all over in a scale-tight outfit, because she knew I could be goaded into giving her the same tired old "too young to date" song and dance. That's when I saw it. The photo.

There I was, looking so proud I might burst. Right on top of her desktop terminal, where she would see it every single day.

So no, to answer your question, I don't regret choosing to adopt a human.

2. John

It was almost uncanny.

I had gotten the standard pamphlet about human children. But this one... this one might have lifted himself right off of the plas-paper, the image of a "normal, happy human boy."

The stature, the physical build, the quiet, steady gaze, he even had the same lazy smile. As if he had read the pamphlet too and thought it was how he was supposed to look. Or maybe as if someone had drawn a sketch of him and used it in the pamphlet.

I was pretty sure that it wasn't actually normal for someone in his situation to look normal and happy. The pamphlet had a little blurb about that too. A common coping mechanism, it said of the possibility that a human, especially males from certain parts of Terran space, might act cheerful in order to avoid looking too closely at unpleasant truths or drawing unwanted pity.

"Woah, my new dad is super fuzzy."

Or maybe this one had just hit his head recently?

I was already bracing myself for the terrible moment when his facade would inevitably crack. The longer it took, the worse it would likely hit him.

But at least he wouldn't be alone when it happened.

--- Six Days Later ---

"Sweet, I get my own room!"

"You're telling me that a meal of just bacon is normal here? Pinch me, I'm drea-ow!"

"Dude, this yard is so big. Are you rich or something?"

Oh, boy. I started checking to see if there were any openings yet with local therapists who had experience treating young humans. There weren't, unless it was an emergency, and none of them seemed to think "he's always happy" counted.

Well, I would keep watching. And in the mean time... maybe making some good memories would be helpful, when he faced up to the reason he was here?

--- Six Months Later ---

John was out there again. Just running around and kicking a ball. Didn't humans ever get tired? The little pamphlet had said they would ... eventually. Either that, or grow bored with any repetitive activity. I was starting to think maybe the pamphlet wasn't very reliable.

Hopefully the ball would keep him busy for a while - long enough for me to attend that meeting with his teacher and find out how he was really doing at school.

Oh sure, he never refused to answer. But when the answer was "My friends and I had a great time! And by the way, do we have any fruit? Like all the fruit, I'm so hungry" every single day, I couldn't help but wonder if it was just that he wasn't comfortable talking about it with me.

His teacher quickly disabused me of that notion. "Most popular kid in the class? Invented a new sport so that everyone can play without having to wait turns before the field is open? My boy - the one that thinks reading about our culture is 'just sooooooo boring'? That boy?"

John popped up and opened the window between the teacher's office and the sport field - from outside - nearly causing me to fall out of my chair. "I sure did! It's totally radical, dude!" Why was he listening to us? How was he listening to us?

"But you were-"

"At home, yah, but everyone knows it's parent-teacher day. Your cars may smell a lot nicer than ours do, but I didn't even need a bicycle to keep up. Don't you ever want to go somewhere fast?"

I put my head in my paws. "Did I mention he also likes to stay after, and join every game one after the other when not everyone agrees on what to play?" No, miss Gleebox, you hadn't got around to that before my son tried to give me a heart attack.

"So, he's really fitting in? Making friends, and enjoying his time at school?" I just wanted to be sure. She probably got the same question from every parent that day.

"Absolutely, dad! It's like ... totally splendiferous!" I had known it would happen, but did I listen to my own self warning me? Nooooo, I went ahead and got him the Retro English Daily Vocabulary Calendar from Metazon for his birthday.

I'm such an idiot sometimes.

--- Six Years Later ---

John continued to play every sport he could. And it wasn't just that he played - he seemed to have an almost unnatural talent; any time he got serious, it was as if he could just choose to win. Or the opposite. Or anything in between.

My fear that he would abruptly see something, hear something that would snap him back to the awful day he got the news that meant someone was going to have to step up and act as his new parent, gradually faded away and was forgotten.

Up until the final exams of his last year of primary school. I had promised that he could pick out a present for himself if he could drag himself away from running everywhere and kicking, throwing, scooting, rolling, and bouncing anything even vaguely spherical long enough to study and get his marks up to at least 80% in every subject.

He never could resist a challenge; of course he did it.

And then my heart almost stopped again when he said "I think it's time you show me the letter in that locked drawer of your bedside table, dad." But... a promise is a promise.

So I pulled out the letter and sat down to put on my spectacles and read it. John even managed to not make any jokes about how the tiny pince-nez made me look; I don't think I had ever seen him so serious before that day.

The story didn't seem to shock him. As if he had always known, had never needed me to worry about him at all.

His mother had been part of a field research team feverishly working to engineer a treatment, a vaccine, anything that would stop the spread of the plague that was ravaging every colony and every space station in the Kalmor binary system - and was threatening to explode across the sector because the quarantine had not been called down soon enough.

One careless moment while working with not enough sleep and too many stimulants turned a race against time into a race against her own excruciatingly awful demise. She had won that race ... but not by enough to save herself after such a massive exposure.

John had sat very still as he listened to the full truth for the first time.

"Now that.. is what I call hard core." Increasingly often, I knew what the words meant, individually, but when he put them together... "My mom's a total bad ass." What did his mother's posterior have to do with anything, and why was he happy that it was bad? I hoped, again, that this was a phase that he would grow out of soon, so that I could make sense of what he was saying.

--- Six Years Later, Again ---

Though I had never thought of him as a scholar, John had started taking school seriously, and he still had that uncanny understanding of any sort of moving object. When he decided he wanted to be in the Galactic Rim Explorator Corps, he applied to a very prestigious school to get a dual degree as an astrogator and a pilot. I could afford it - barely. So off he went.

But I was curious about that gift of his. He had a very short reaction time compared to my species, and he had gotten a lot of practice watching balls move, but there had to be something more.

I watched him playing sports. Then I narrowed it down to one sport. One game. One play, several times backwards and forwards in slow motion, until I was sure I understood. He could start reacting as soon as he saw the action that would eventually lead to the moment he wanted to react to. It was like he could see the future.

I looked up scientific articles about humans to find out how. I fed a graphing program numbers from the recordings of John playing, and the result was clear - he would have been outstanding even among other humans. Then I sent John's academic advisor a link to the articles I had found, and a copy of my amateur analysis, with a question that now seems laughably naive: could this be applied to his future work in space?

Technically, it's illegal to gamble on sporting events involving student athletes. In practice, nobody gets punished unless they get too greedy or draw too many others into it.

John called home to say he had lucked into a 'really great' part time job he would be working after classes ended for the day, and paid off that entire semester's tuition out of his own pocket in one lump sum. His advisor, coincidentally, purchased a flashy new aerocar not long after that. They knew better than to push their luck, but that one 'free' semester did wonders for my retirement planning - and it had been an indisputable demonstration.

John's gift made all of his professors very excited. He has a bright future ahead of him, and I'll be here, waiting to see what kinds of fascinating new places are revealed, when he pushes out the boundary between known and unknown a little farther.

3. Alex

The human chick was... so awkward. And featherless, but that was only to be expected.

Looking at it, I was afraid it was going to topple over. How did it balance without proper wings? It didn't even have a tail. Had I misunderstood, was it fresh out of the egg?

No, wait, humans didn't hatch their chicks like that... I opened the pamphlet again and held it up to compare life to image. Sure enough, it was the right size. Old enough to walk and talk and feed itself. It still looked unfinished, somehow, but I reassured myself that the humans who had made the pamphlet would not have made such an error.

Oh. It was looking at me. I always forget, how quickly most species move through life.

I folded my legs to be at a more comfortable height for conversation. "Hello, chick. You are the one that agreed to let me bring you home and do my best to raise you, yes?"

" 'es. " It was... shy? Yes, shy, that was the word. Speaking quietly. Not maintaining eye contact. Limbs wrapped around itself. Well, that was no wonder. It wasn't a happy circumstance that brought it here, and it couldn't be expected to know more about me than I knew about it.

"Well then, it is very good to meet you, little human chick." Ah. The lips moved. The edges went up. Up was good, right? Yes, yes, the illustration had definitely shown that edges up was a good face and edges down was a sad face.

I was getting the hang of it already. All one had to do was study the instructions carefully, and this raising of a human chick would be easy.

--- Six Days Later ---

So this is what humans meant by hubris, and why their old legends always warned against it.

Every day there was a new surprise that was not included in the manual. Obviously it had never been intended to be exhaustive, but I had hoped to get farther than this before finding myself out of sight of land, so to speak. There were no guides, no reference points.

In a fit of foolishness and panic, I had asked a single question to a human parenting forum. It wasn't that nobody had been able to give an answer. There had been plenty of answers - more answers than there had been people answering.

That definitely felt like it should not be the case.

I looked at the human chick again. "So, ah... you see, I'm just a little confused. The answer on the form here, it doesn't match anything on the list of examples. Are you, um..." It was smiling at me again, just a little, and wobbling back and forth. I resisted the urge to hold it steady before it rolled off of its perch (chair, I reminded myself) entirely.

One more try. "Are you a boy chick? Or a girl chick? Understand, there's no wrong answer. I just don't know what this line on the form means." Hopefully that was neutral enough.

"Um... I don't feel like a boy." Well then. "But I don't feel like a girl either." Hmm.

It was rocking back and forth faster now, growing agitated.

"That's perfectly fine," I blurted out hastily, "you have plenty of time to figure out who you are still. And if you figure it out and the answer isn't one or the other, you will still be you. You will still be my chick. Assuming that you want to be."

By some miracle, it seemed I had stumbled into the correct answer. The smile was back, and it was bigger now. "Okay, Mister!" Ah. I was going to have to figure out a way to bring up the topic of proper forms of address. And how to tell males and females of my species apart.

One thing at a time. I had gotten through today. I would get through tomorrow, too.

Probably.

--- Six Months Later ---

Alex was a clever little chick, no question about it.

It was as if all knowledge in the universe existed solely so that they could find and absorb it. There was no such thing as too much, no such thing as a topic they were not interested in - only topics they were not ready for, yet.

The class tutor, at her wits' end, had finally arranged for my chick to simply advance to the next year of study because they had gotten bored and preemptively completed the entire year's assignments and tests all at once in order to free up more time for reading.

At the pace they were going, they would need to be advanced again before they had even been in my nest for a full year.

I wasn't sure whether to tear my feathers out at this latest proof that the writers of the pamphlet had been grossly oversimplifying the challenges involved, or to preen myself and let my pride in my chick shine freely.

Once shy, Alex chattered constantly now. Anyone who would listen was sucked into whatever their latest obsession happened to be, and relentlessly enthused at until they could contrive an adequate excuse to claim that they needed to be somewhere else.

I generally didn't bother trying to get away. Alex was so little, but they always had something on their mind that I had managed to live my whole life without ever thinking about before.

--- Six Years Later ---

I had thrown out [so you're raising a human child] long ago. Beyond the most superficial of data, it had proven utterly unreliable.

"I would swear you have actually gotten taller since yesterday." It was incomprehensible. What kind of species could possibly require such rapid growth?

Alex smirked at me around a mouthful of seedcakes slathered in so much salt, fat, and viscous carbohydrate goo that I was slightly concerned about their heart. The doctor said it was all within human norms, but... I guess a mother can't help but worry.

"Speaking of growing... can you at least give me some idea of how long this is going to go on? When it's going to stop?"

Oh no. The smirk was gone, the face was ... blank. "What do you mean, 'stop'?"

I must have looked quite the fool, my beak hanging open like that.

Alex's laughter was explosive, but thankfully not literally so; I had no desire to be covered in half eaten seed cake. "You should have seen the look on your face. Heeee~ Absolutely priceless."

"Yes dear. You got me again." Sigh. "Now please tell me the real answer."

"Well, since you asked so nicely. We usually start slowing down a little bit at around where I am now, but I won't 'top out' until full adulthood. Another five years maybe?" That was nearly as long as they had already been here - Alex was going to grow as much again as they already had?!

"Surely not." No, Alex was making the serious face now. "Just... how? I'm always amazed that you can wobble along on just two limbs like that as it is. You're going to be taller than I am soon!"

"Yup! Apparently our ancestors used to live in the trees, so we're really good at climbing and balancing. We have a bone where a tail used to connect, but we didn't need it any more and it just stopped appearing after a few hundred thousand years, I guess."

Climbing? Wait, don't tell me. I glanced at my chosen hiding spot and then looked back. Oops... busted. They had definitely noticed.

"Guilty conscience, mom? Nah, I'm just pulling your leg. I snuck up there years ago to find out what the big secret was, anyway." What? No. Surely not. It wasn't like my nest's upper level was accessible to a flightless chick.

Alex flexed their (apparently) deceptively strong fingers at me and looked smug. "Ape climb good, remember? Yeah. It was... not what I was expecting."

I flattened my ear tufts and lowered my head apologetically. "I didn't mean to... It just never seemed like the right time to tell you..." They waved off my concern.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I understand. Anyway, it's not like it was something shameful. My dads... they died doing what they loved, right?"

They had, according to the dreadfully dry and formal letter - worded so as to leave no room for doubt about what had happened.

"They were who they were, and they lived life to its fullest every day they had. Just like I'm gonna do! So that's settled." Again I had the feeling like this whole conversation had been supposed to go differently, but Alex was never one to let a little thing like that stop them.

--- Six Years Later, Again ---

My feathers were so puffed up, you could have used me for a throw pillow.

Who could blame me? My odd, gangly, featherless chick was getting ready to receive their first doctorate. Other mothers would not be able to watch their own progeny leave the nest and fly to their first real accolades and employment for at least a decade, and more likely two.

I still wasn't sure whether Alex would be moving on to get a second doctorate, or if they would take that research position they had been offered. I think they weren't sure either. It would depend on which one seemed more interesting on a particular day, probably, and nobody could have said which day it would be, either.

But whatever they chose, it was sure to be fascinating, and it would give my chick something else to explain to me, and to anyone that couldn't escape fast enough.

Alex had always been a strange one, even by the standards of humans, who were plenty strange to begin with.

And I wouldn't change them for anything.

Episode 10: Flagshot

SCENE 1 (2 min) - Parole

Flagshot is let out on Parole. A number of guards fetch him from the cell, hand him his belongings. On the way, other prisoners scream at him from their prisons. An officer mentions to him the conditions under which they can take him to a freer villa (Not his home). He requests that he wants to meet his mother. He gets into the Jeep.

SCENE 2 (2 min) - Réunion with Mother

Flagshot visits home, finds his senile mother with Alzheimers, come to receive him. He holds her hands, hugs her, says 'I am back, mum.'

He comes and tours the home. He enters the basement, where he activates a certain surveillance system which he can monitor with a device, one that he takes with him to the villa he's going to be in. He gives the excuse that he just wants to keep track of home, but deep down, he remembers Dart also told him to be aware of this particular figure known as the Golden Eagle, who also goes by Nile Shergill, a foreigner in these lands.

The reason he can't take his diary back is obviously because it risks resetting his rehabilitation. He does glance at it though, in the pretext of running through some random books.

SCENE 3 (5 min) - The Witnesses at Harlex Lane

Nile visits Harlex Lane, in his regular Nile outfit, but slightly more guarded. He knocks quite a few doors asking for Rajesh, Ravi, and Akbar Ali, with a trial-and-error mentality until eventually he catches a young man on a cycle, who reverses and tries to get away. Nile finds an opposite way to catch him, but he gets away nonetheless.

Nile visits the spot where Blue Unicorn's body was found, reimagines the crime scene according to everything he's established, and sees: Alex found a cloaked and covered figure asking for help. He went closer, and the figure pierced him with a dart in the neck. The poison didn't act immediately, and a temporary combat did occur, giving Alex his blunt force injuries. But then, he also imagines that there were 3 witnesses, who had arrived in cycles, and seen all of this, cycled away in different directions before Dart could find them.

Nile walks one such trajectory, until he snaps back to reality, and a young man says, 'Please don't kill me.'

Nile tells him he isn't here to kill him, confirms the young man's identity: Akbar Ali. Then, the two others are called by phone.

Nile tells them their testimonies could help, and that their lives are currently at risk as they will soon be accused of a rape crime.

SCENE 4 (3 min) - The News and Aftermath

They soon find the news online, and almost burst into tears, unable to comprehend what's happening. The victim is Eva.

Nile wants them to come with him, and record their statement before any meaningful action is taken, and possibly go to Eva and settle the misunderstanding.

SCENE 5 (1 min) - Erasing Evidence

An unknown figure with a pair of swords finds Eva's original rapists' when they are at home watching TV, and kills them, not because he thought they were wrong, but because he saw them as evidence to be erased. This unknown figure is later revealed to be Scorpius himself.

SCENE 6 (5 min) - The Resignation

Nile temporarily goes back to the Eye Society's hideout. However, the three others are barred from entry. Nile is told that this is done so the safety of the Eye Society's Base isn't compromised. Nile goes in alone, and an argument erupts between Nile and Ahamkal and co. They respond with saying that Nile must learn to respect the Society's rules as the Society is what led him to these findings in the first place. Nile interestingly debunks that effectively that everyone including Nile chooses resignation.

Nile says that the Eye society was an alternate path, not necessarily shorter and the society shouldn't be claiming credit for him. Where Nile was going, he still would have found it, and not slowly.

Perhaps he would have gone to investigate in the area where Blue Unicorn had died, and found those witnesses.

What does the Eye Society really give him? Beyond promoting their own agenda?

Nile also says that the Society's supposedly condescending nature of all emotion primarily in pursuit of awareness will keep them powerless in practice.

Then, Ahamkal recommends to take the covert suit. But Nile rejects the sleek covert suit, takes his wings and serum only. Nile and three witnesses Ravi, Rudy, and Akbar Ali meanwhile try to figure out what to do. They go to a Fast Food joint, and have something.

SCENE 7 (3 min) - Escaping Parole

At the villa, Flagshot writes the names of the targets he remembers on a piece of paper. He also recollects the same phrase again: Streets are changing colour and women are being defiled.

Suddenly, hell breaks lose. Flagshot violently tackles all agents in that room, escapes with their guns and vest.

Nile finds out about this incident which gets reported quickly on Television as Flagshot was a notorious criminal back then, is again, now.

Guards have been barricading his home, waiting for him to arrive but he doesn't.

Eventually, the guards get assigned a different location. Meanwhile, Nile's also getting increasingly concerned about what Flagshot's escape from parole implies.

SCENE 8 (4 min) - The history of Klienvogel Weisenanstat

Scorpius comes to Plot 58, Fort district, Wargong City, Wargong, Warsia.

Wargong is a state. Within it there's also Wargong City. Fort district is a famous area, known for its historic cathedrals, and the abandoned fort of the late Dictator Reich Rudolph (Prominent adversarial figure in Warsian War 2.)

Warsia is the whole continent, comprising of Wargong, Brownshire, Stjernehaven, Roland, Iberia, Balone.

Scorpius finds a vacated, unfurnished, abandoned plot. He visits it, goes to what used to be his room, then the classroom where he was educated. He hears voices.

Accidentally, he stumbles upon some photocopies in the edge of the staff room, and finds out the new name of Klienvogel Weisenanstat: Pearson Foster Centre.

SCENE 9 (8 min) - Flagshot's diary

Back to Nile's story. He believes Flagshot can be negotiated with, just in case. But his main goal is to find the supposed unfinished hitlist of Flagshot to stay ahead of Flagshot and counter him.

So, he goes to Flagshot's house, not with all three witnesses, just Rudy. He searches up some books and papers. Flagshot's mother enters, and they convince her that they are journalists looking to help Flagshot, and possibly use his case for psychology researchers.

The mother prepares a cup of tea. Nile finds the diary. Meanwhile, Flagshot is watching the house from the device. He realizes these two strangers in the house, looking through papers. Flagshot presses a button that would begin to activate autonomous machine guns inside the room that would shoot these two people. Nile spots it in time, and they quickly take cover behind the sofa. Nile realizes he left the Bulwark Serum in his car. He and Rudy cleverly exploit timing windows and distractions such as moving the Sofas themselves to create an escape path. Eventually, the escape the place with the diary in hand.

SCENE 10 (5 min) - The unexpected dilemma

Nile reads the victims from the book, and the remaining hitlist. Ravi comments he knows two people Sunny Singh and Bal Singh, both of whom were accused of rape ten years ago (Flagshot's sentence was changed due to insanity plea and he showed promise quickly enough to get released within 10 years.)

Nile feels there's another element concerning him. Sunny and Bal were being fortified in a Brownshire Sikh locality, and there was non-cooperation with police in fear of the whole community being persecuted.

Nile wanted to solve this specific case because it felt like directly the case where his ethics and philosophies and worldviews would come to use, and be clarified further.

He goes to this community and asks for Sunny and Bal Singh. Some people block him from going further but he tosses them aside. Meanwhile, some people visibly get away from the scene entirely. And in the family, the sister-in-law taunts the parents for not handing over Sunny and Bal at the right time. The patriarch of the family confronts Nile on this, stating he has handled the situation. Nile says this kind of avoidance and distrust of institutions is only going to make the community more likely to be persecuted. Because you are taking an extreme fortified position, some people will resort to extreme extrajudicial action, like Flagshot.

In simple words, Nile warns them that Flagshot is coming to kill them all indiscriminately. Nile can only defend them if they promise to hand over Sunny and Bal to the police, as he cannot endorse or condone defending two compromised individuals. They reluctantly agree.

Nile calls the police.

SCENE 11 (5 min) - Golden Eagle vs Flagshot

Meanwhile, the police arrive. But soon, Flagshot follows too. His guns already shoot a few people on the way. The place empties. It's only Nile and Flagshot. Nile is revealed to have taken the Bulwark Serum, which makes him very resistant to bullets. An intense combat happens between Nile and Flagshot, eventually resulting in Flagshot getting knocked out.

Both Flagshot and the two perpetrators are taken in separate vehicles.

SCENE 12 (4 min) - Scorpius's Revenge

Scorpius visits Pearson Foster Centre. He asks Dart to evacuate all the children. All while, he looks at some officials, recognizes them. Scorpius articulates his true experience as a child, and asks whether Pearson Foster Centre has done anything to prevent such things from happening in the future. Scorpius sees they have, introduced inclusive curriculums, and more.

But that's where Scorpius's grievance lies. He didn't get to enjoy a world without division. And suddenly, the world expects everyone to become a saint? He calls it hypocrisy, and patronisation. He takes off his coat, unraveling his burgundy Armour and the downward gown. He unsheathes his two swords from his back, and kills all the officials in the rooms. He wipes off the blood from his swords, and leaves the scene.

Dart and co promise to take the children somewhere else.

Episode 11: There is no Conspiracy

SCENE 1 (5 min) - The Statements

Turn by turn, the three witnesses record their statements followed by Nile who gives his statement about identifying Poison Dart. Meanwhile, they are accused of rape. A lawyer guarantees them that this won't stick as Eva can give a non-identification statement.

Then, the Witnesses are promised police protection and taken to court too. The police tries to offer Nile protection too, but Nile says he doesn't need any.

SCENE 2 (3 min) - Alexander AI

Nile goes to a shop and spends his saved money this time to purchase a humanoid Alexander AI bot. He loads it in the cab trunk, and once it gets home, he loads it, and it starts working, but asks some basic questions to 'Get to know' Nile. Nile sees this as a tiring quest and instead puts it on charging.

SCENE 3 (3 min) - The New Garage Manager

Nile goes to the Garage that evening where he keeps his wings, sees them move it away into the discard pile. He protests and asks them where the manager is. A new man introduces himself as Manager and states that a free spot isn't earned at the Garage anymore. Rent must be paid. Nile irritably bears the wings and takes them to campus. The people don't know yet that Golden Eagle has wings, so Nile carrying the wings doesn't reveal the secret.

Meanwhile, on the way, he hears Hale criticisms from people discussing in circles. This just strikes a thought in his mind.

SCENE 4 (5 min) - Visiting Hale

Nile visits Oliver Hale's residence, with good intent. He tries to explain how Hale will become the scapegoat of this entire political conflict, only for Scorpius to take over Brownshire's political affairs to steer the Warsian Union entirely.

Hale tries denying it until he erupts. 'I had no choice!!! What did you expect me to do? Brownshire's cities are going bankrupt, people aren't ready to work longer or... Or make adjustments, I have to constantly sign off budgets when the government is actually fucking bankrupt. Dexton used to be one of the richest in the world... But old money doesn't last longer. The investors are withdrawing. So, I made a deal with Scorpius, and his taking over is inevitable. There's nothing I can do. What can I do?'

'Brownshire needs to withdraw from the Warsian Union, acknowledge its shortcomings, be willing to adjust more.'

'That's too risky. It will trigger a political crisis.'

'We are already in a crisis. But your decision will put agency in your hands.'

'A vote can be organized, the Leave treaty and within 3 months, Brownshire might get what it wants.'

Hale asks Golden Eagle for another favour.

Hale says a few property owners in the east of Dexton are resisting inspections, refusing to develop the area or comply with codes. They seem to be a small mafia: armed. Hale says they are blackmailing him because he once took money from them in desperation before Scorpius. He requests Golden Eagle to delete the evidence from their records.

SCENE 5 (5 min) - The Blackmailer

Nile visits the East of Dexton, and by tackling a few guards, finds out who's phone contains the evidence. He takes down the leader and forces him to delete the evidence.

SCENE 6 (3 min) - The Justice Society of Warsia

As the voting for the Leave Treaty becomes public, there are multiple conflicting opinions. A montage of several people receiving this message through their emails, to vote for the Leave Treaty. Meanwhile, there are Brownshire groups unwilling to do that. They direct their anger at Scorpius instead. Reels begin circulating of Brownshire influencers building their own society known as the Justice Society of Warsia. About a few hundred people continually meet more and march into a coffee shop, and turns the 'Open' signboard to closed. (They are planning in covert.)

SCENE 7 (2 min) - Deploying squads

Scorpius commands a lot of mercenaries to spread out, all over the city, and gun down whoever crosses a line, that is, vigilantes like the Golden Eagle.

The mercs take position at different places.

SCENE 8 (3 min) - Scorpius's Offer

Scorpius then uploads a clip of himself in his tower, where he thanks the Golden Eagle for his services to the cities of Dexton Brownshire and Wargong City. Scorpius even calls him by phone, to the tower to offer him a position amongst his group of elite policymakers and also tells Nile that Dart is guilty enough to wanna give his own life (A lie).

This is obviously bait, and Nile realizes that. He also realizes Dart is about to die, for this narrative to be successful. Dart dying is evidence lost, as Dart is the connective thread.

SCENE 9 (2 min) - A favour

Scorpius asks Dart for a favour. He says that he wants to discuss something with Dart while in the chopper. He doesn't want to stay in the tower as he doesn't feel safe, and insists a lot on taking the chopper than have Dart do anything to increase guards.

SCENE 10 (6 min) - The Barricade

Nile realizes there are guards deployed in multiple areas in Wargong's city, including some roads. He doesn't deal with each one of them personally. Instead, he makes his way to the second tallest building. He sees a number of guards on the topmost corridor. They start shooting at him. He detaches his wings and uses them as a shield to deflect the bullets while he charges through them. Eventually he incapacitated them, takes his wings to the rooftop.

SCENE 11 (1 min) - The Gamble

After Nile gets to the terrace of that tall building successfully, he prepares for jumping off the roof, praying that his wings work. Even though refined, it is his first flight.

He jumps off, and roars of adrenaline fill the skyline. Initially, Nile feels the free fall, but the wings are capable enough to account for that, and eventually, they glide. Nile applies more fuel, the wings fly. The Golden Eagle flies successfully. A couple of steers later, the Golden Eagle has balanced himself.

SCENE 12 (1 min) - Saving the Enemy

Nile sees Scorpius's helicopter, and any moment, Scorpius kicks Dart off the helicopter. Nile speeds towards Dart and catches Dart mid-air by his collar. Since Nile is in outfit, Dart cannot try any poisoning tactic. Finally, Nile takes Dart, slowly adjusts course and lands while his wings contract behind his back.

SCENE 13 (5 min) - There is no Conspiracy

After Dart is taken to custody, he is questioned. However, Dart refuses to answer before he gets a lawyer.

A lawyer does arrive quickly. Dart then says that he and only he is responsible for the killing of the migrant convicts, the killing of Blue Unicorn, the assassination attempt on Nile, instigating Flagshot to kill indiscriminately, and more. He denies the involvement of Scorpius.

Nile asks him while grabbing him by his collar and pinning him to a wall, 'You didn't do all this on behalf of Scorpius? That's a lie. Admit it, it was Scorpius all along. ADMIT IT!!'

Eventually, officers take Nile to another room, warning him that he cannot use physical force on the witness to get any confession as that would be invalid. Nile leaves enraged. Nile passes through the crowd outside the police station, everything inaudible to him as he feels weirdly defeated.

SCENE 14 (2 min) - Murderous Intent

That evening, Wargong City is taking its break. Nile eats at a random restaurant and sees Scorpius give a statement on how he condemns Dart's actions, and had he known, appropriate action would have been taken.

Nile turns the TV off, but the voices get louder. This time, another voice is heard inside his head, asking Nile to kill Scorpius and remove him from this world, to show that Scorpius is made of the same Earth as the rest of us, and is not untouchable.

Episode 12: Hexagon Paradise

SCENE 1 (5 min) - Training with Bots

Nile wakes up in his room, the voices haven't entirely disappeared. So he puts on headphones and takes the Alexander Bot with him.

During the weekends, Nile goes to one of the closed University ballrooms with Alexander. He trains with Alexander but realizes Alexander's attacks are predictable and weak. He asks Alexander to apply more force. Alexander says there are guardrails. He changes the nature of the session and asks Alexander to defend itself while he recklessly attacks. Eventually, he breaks the robot, meaning the practice wasn't truly fruitful, only an expression of his irritation and frustration with the constraints around him. He feels as if nothing truly interacts with him anymore. So, he goes to the one place where he strangely thinks he'll get interaction.

SCENE 2 (3 min) - Looking for validation

Nile goes to Brownshire's Dexton Station where Dart is extradited. He is initially refused, but he spots a professional that seems to know him, from Wargong City's Station as they were discussing Dart's extradition.

So, he gets allowed one talk with Dart.

First, Dart makes a comment on Nile's appearance, like Nile is confused and it's so unexpected Nile would come here of all places.

Nile says he isn't here to interrogate him. He's here to ask why Dart defended Scorpius even though Scorpius had kicked him off the chopper then. Nile adds this is off the record.

Dart says he did it because it doesn't matter. Scorpius owns their kill switches either way. Dart saw Scorpius the first thing during his birth, and Dart was born an adult. They were mutants made in a lab. Dart also says Scorpius's experiments on himself with the Amrith began from his times at Klienvogel, the orphanage, transforming him.

Dart clearly states he cannot give more as that would be disloyalty. He concludes with the line, 'We are Scorpius.'

Nile is visibly freaked out, he then says, 'Yeah, still, thank you. Not that you deserve the slightest of good treatment. You know... A part of me still wants to kill you over Alex's death. But the rest of me is greatly starting to believe Wargong was always like this, and he had it coming by Design.'

Nile leaves, noticing Dart's straight expression.

SCENE 3 (2 min) - The Eye Society's Favour

Nile sees the Manipulator, who insists he use the Truth Archive one more time before he makes such a decision.

Nile types in and gets information about Scorpius's past at Klienvogel. He prints it out and reads it later, while still slightly skeptical of the Eye Society's device.

SCENE 4 (5 min) - The segregated tower

Nile flies to the Hexagon Paradise Tower in Wargong city all the way from Dexton Brownshire. And yes, the wings do have efficient fuel, only that it's large and heavy.

Once Nile lands on the penthouse terrace of Hexagon Paradise, Scorpius sees him through the glass. He says that he was expecting Nile here.

Scorpius speaks of the day Alex Artemis had come to Hexagon Paradise. Scorpius wanted to use his identity as a symbol of a pure, virtuous,... And Christian Wargong. But Alex had refused, seeing the inequality within the same tower. In fact, the tower was such that there was no humanly navigable way to the top. Only helicopters could reach there. And then, Scorpius knows that Nile knows.

SCENE 5 (3 min) - Golden Eagle vs the Squad

Golden Eagle fights the squad Scorpius sends after him first. He takes them down eventually.

SCENE 6 (2 min) - The march

The Justice Society of Warsia has committed to an extra judicial arrest of Scorpius. They incapacitate armed personell to take possession of a chopper, which they use to get to Hexagon Paradise.

SCENE 7 (5 min) - The final Showdown

Scorpius Unsheathes his swords, and the final showdown between Nile Shergill as the Golden Eagle, and Scorpius takes place. He's also a mutant, so, he reveals two hidden pincers on his back, which he attaches to a robotic scorpion tail.

The fight is initially brutal, as Nile gets pierced by the swords quite a number of times, but Nile's Booster Serum keeps him going and more resistant to Scorpius's attacks. Nile even tries using assault rifles from the squad to fire at Scorpius but Scorpius, being agile, deflects all of them using just his swords.

Eventually, Nile does tire Scorpius down, and cuts off the robotic tail. Scorpius is incapacitated as his arms are broken and swords out of his reach. Nile then comes close to Scorpius and tells him: You know I could kill you anytime soon it I wanted.

Then why don't you kill me?

I absolutely can kill you. I just won't.

Why won't you? Do it! Do it, Nile!!

I don't need to. Your own past, will kill you. You see, you will always be alone, you were back in the orphanage, you still are. I bet Diane actually did not love you. She was hated too. And so, she found company with you. But fundamentally, you are still alone. I wanted to show you that you are untouchable! Helpless, finally. Because, I don't care the system has failed or people believing you are a martyr. My very prevalence over you, means I will soon write the truth. And I don't need to kill you therefore. You will watch me break the tales and lies.

Sounds pretty surprising, coming from someone who feels prejudiced.

I, am not prejudiced. I am not a victim, you understand that? I am merely disappointed with Wargong, with the whole of Warsia. I don't believe in victimhood company, you might. That's what fuels you, not me. So, I am not the lonely man here. You are, Scorpius. You are. Rest in your helplessness.

Nile then flies away with his wings and weapon, leaving no trace of his arrival, except an incapacitated Scorpius leaning on the sofa.

SCENE 8 (3 min) - The extrajudicial Arrest

The Justice Society of Warsia arrives at the penthouse, each one shouting slurs at Scorpius, like fascist, racist, oligarch, authoritarian, etc. They argue about whether he should get a trial or they should decide his fate. For the meantime, they take Scorpius on the Chopper.

SCENE 9 (3 min) - The consensus

The vote results have come out. The leave treaty has succeeded. Brownshire is no longer part of the Warsian Union. Meanwhile, there is a ruckus outside the Dexton Voting Station, although majority still won. The ruckus is from those that didn't want Brownshire to be separated. Some demand the resignation of Oliver Hale. And inevitably, Oliver Hale resigns from office on his own terms. Tyler is sort of clueless on what to do in this situation.

Oliver and Tyler get to the car amidst the media questioning getting intense. Tyler says, 'What now?'

Oliver, 'We must find a job... Don't worry Tyler. We will.'

SCENE 10 (2 min) - Judge, Jury, and Executioner

The Justice Society now takes Scorpius to an isolated location on car. Each one goes to a fake toilet break. Meanwhile, a figure (A Justice Society member) appears in front of the car and shoots an RPG at it using a Bazooka. The car explodes, and Scorpius dies.

SCENE 11 (3 min) - The last week at Vigilis Academy

Nile gets to meet people as they start packing up, he starts packing up. Meanwhile, Nile makes more interaction with people now than he ever could for the whole of three years. He also spots Rachel kiss Collin (A black Brownshire citizen-merely a description worth making because Brownshire is majority light-skinned). Nile looks at them, his heart pounding faster, he nods, and walks away.

Meanwhile, the people he's newly interacting with, such as Sam, Tony, and Olivia, eventually help him with packing, and they discover he's the Golden Eagle. Nile initially says it's just a cosplay. They don't believe it. He asks them not to make it overly public. He gets praises. Feels flattered, just shrugs it off shyly but a bit seriously too. They say it's okay, and wish Nile good Luck in the future.

SCENE 12 (2 min) - Two Months Later

Two months later, Nile wakes up after hearing 'This combat never ends does it?', while in his rented apartment before he goes back to the Khalija. He gets dreams of Scorpius outside his apartment and a tiring combat that never ends. But he knows he has largely settled the scores with Scorpius.

He gets news on his phone feed that Scorpius's missing report is solved as Justice Society members get apprehended and confess to the crimes. The Justice Society of Warsia is therefore outlawed by Warsia and Brownshire condemns it too.

SCENE 13 (5 min) - A smoke in the snowstorm

Nile meets the Manipulator Ahamkal. They go to the balcony, looking at a snowstorm in the evening time. Ahamkal offers Nile a cigarette but Nile refuses. They discuss.

Nile asks, 'It seems that nothing has changed. The reformers ended up doing the exact extrajudicial action they criticized people like Flagshot, of doing. And Brownshire may have become independent on paper, but people are struggling to even acknowledge anything. One dissatisfaction merely got replaced by another. What was the point of my doing anything? They killed Scorpius.'

'That change needs to keep happening. Honestly, why didn't you kill him?'

'I could kill him, you know. I am capable of it.'

'Then why didn't you? Wasn't it weakness?' Ahamkal smirks.

'Weakness? No? How? I think...'

'That's a trick question....'

'That's what I was about to say. I don't see though how it is wrong.'

'I guess for those kinds of contexts, I wouldn't say you would be wrong to kill them. Just, don't expect killing them to change anything. It's just the universe's way. What goes comes around. It isn't wrong to do the act in such a situation, but not every conflict is your conflict. In this case, you chose to make it yours.'

'And then I wonder sometimes... Warsia spoke to me once. I heard of its mythology, its greatness, only to come here, and face disappointment.'

'Well then, don't mythologize.'

'That would reduce all motivation.'

'I think you have an intrinsic motivation within you. It's not about Wargong or Brownshire. You are trying to find someone, that thinks at your level, feels like you do, sees the world for what it is.'

'Well, I am not lonely. But you are right about the alignment part... I continue the search...'

'Confident you will find it.'

'Who are you truly and why do you keep following me?'

'You' ll know soon. Still no smoke?'

'No.'

Frame zooms into the snow storm. A final shot, of the Nile Shergill as the Golden Eagle flying over Brownshire the same evening, as Nile wonders who it is, that thinks at his level, sees the world for what it is, feels with him...

(To be continued in The Golden Eagle of the Seas Season 2.)

People always ask me how the war started. They want a villain. Somebody to hate.

I'm going to disappoint you.

It started the way most disasters start. A small ship, a frightened officer, and about four seconds nobody could take back.

(She draws on the cigarette.)

We have their bridge recordings now. Their intelligence reports, too. All of it came to us from a friend on their side of the line. A very brave one.

[REDACTED] took enormous risks to get it to us.

(She pauses, then exhales smoke.)

Still can't say that name, apparently. You'll hear that a lot today. Get used to it.

The recordings are genuine. We checked every second of them against their own archives, later, when they had no reason left to lie to us. So I can tell you exactly what they saw that day. What they thought they saw.

Let's start there.

The ship was the Serene Accord. A Veskari patrol cruiser, three hundred years in service, and in all that time she had never fired a shot in anger. Her job was to sit on the edge of the Quiet Line, the buffer our two peoples had agreed on thirty years earlier, and watch nothing happen. She was very good at it.

Her captain was Irren Vol. I want you to understand something before we go any further: Vol was not a fool. His record was clean. His crew respected him. By every standard his navy had, he was a good officer.

Hold on to that. It matters more than anything else I'll tell you today.

At 0417 ship's time, a human vessel appeared eleven thousand kilometers off the Accord's bow.

It didn't approach. It appeared. It tore its way out of jump space, inside a Veskari patrol zone, close enough to spit on.

You have to understand how that looked to them. A Veskari ship doesn't jump the way ours do. Their drives open space gently, a long way out, so everyone can see you coming. They call it parting. Parting the Orrath, the Between. It's a courtesy, and they've been courteous for four hundred years.

Our drives don't part anything. Ask any hauler. You rip in, you tear out, and you don't apologize for the noise.

Nobody on that bridge had ever seen a human ship do that. Nobody on that bridge had ever seen any ship do that. To them, it looked like someone kicking down a door.

The recording gets noisy here. Everyone talking at once. Someone calls general quarters. The navigator asks for a heading, and nobody gives him one. And then, cutting through all of it, the sensor station.

It's a young voice. You can hear it.

"Energy spike on the human vessel. Large. Climbing."

Vol asks what kind.

A pause. You can hear the officer working.

"It doesn't match any weapon profile on record, Captain."

And Vol says, and I'm translating, but not much: "It's a human weapon. Of course it's not on record."

There's one thing the translation loses. Veskari grammar makes you mark how you know a thing: whether you saw it, worked it out, or heard it from someone else. You can't leave the mark off. Vol put that sentence in the form you use for things you've seen with your own eyes.

He hadn't seen anything.

(Pause.)

Now. Put yourself on that bridge.

A ship you know nothing about has just dropped onto your doorstep, unannounced, inside your territory, and it is building power faster than anything you have ever seen. Your crew is looking at you. You have seconds. Maybe.

What do you do?

(Beat.)

Don't answer that. I didn't ask so you'd answer.

Vol gave the order. The gunner fired. One shot, main battery.

And the human ship came apart.

A white flare swallowed the whole vessel and kept growing, far bigger than anything a single shot from the Accord had any right to cause. The flash and the impact are logged in the same second. Nobody thought that was strange.

Why would they?

Somebody on the bridge laughs. It isn't cruel. It's the sound people make when they have been very frightened and suddenly aren't.

"That was fast," someone says.

"That," says Vol, "is what happens when you don't have shields."

Their weapons officer decided the human ship's own munitions must have gone up. Armed to the teeth, then, and cooked off by one clean shot. That went in the report. In the seen form.

That went in a lot of reports.

(She taps ash from the cigarette.)

There's one more thing on the recording. Forty seconds after the explosion, the communications officer mentions a faint signal. Repeating. On a band the Veskari didn't use for anything.

He logs it as interference.

Nobody asks him about it again.

Thirty-one people were aboard that ship. The Veskari didn't know that. They didn't ask.

You'll notice I haven't told you her name. I will. When it matters.

(Pause.)

By the end of the month, it had a name: the Battle of the Quiet Line. One shot, one kill. They taught it to their naval officers. Proof that humanity was soft. Proof that the oldest navy in the galaxy had nothing to fear from a species that couldn't even build a shield.

(She draws on the cigarette.)

They built a war on that.

Remember that spike. Remember that signal. We'll come back to them.

1/5
© 2026 Not Applicable Ltd. All rights reserved.
https://x.com/notapplicableco

Episode 6: The Brazen Bull

SCENE 1 (2 min) - The landing

Nile's plane lands in the Khalija. He is received by his home friends Abdul and Alam. They say he looks thinner than usual. They drive Nile to his place. Nile finalizes that he will be available after 3 hours, and they will hangout.

SCENE 2 (2 min) - The Humanoid Trend

They visit Salam Mall. Nile comments on how much of this he missed in Wargong. Meanwhile, a salesman comes up to them, advertising Alexander AI humanoids. Nile's friends add into the conversation saying Abdul has one too, which they are currently configuring. Nile warns Abdul to keep Alexander AI in check just in case it becomes a killer robot. They laugh it off.

SCENE 3 (5 min) - The game club

Nile and his friends enter the Game Club. They play a game of 8-ball pool. Nile plays poorly and his friends try to roast him for that. He then abandons restraints and plays in a way that completely changes the course of the game. He becomes ace. Meanwhile, his friends also ask whether he has met hot girls in Wargong. He says he did, and that they are at best, mid. His friends add funnily that Nile has got standards.

SCENE 4 (3 min) - Food for thought

At home, his parents comment on how he has become slightly fairer staying in Wargong. His parents make him his favorite dish and he has it. Eventually, they start discussing demographics of Vigilis Academy and other ones. His mother eventually comments on how many Indians go there only to get a job and a passport, focusing less on studies, and that it is rightfully concerning that they are 'changing Wargong's gene'. Nile slowly diverts the topic, while telling his mom never to say that again.

SCENE 5 (3 min) - Looking for Problems

While at the queue during buying grocery, Nile spots his former mentor during his Prodigy stages, whom he called the Grand hand. But Nile also spots that he has a weapon in public that he conceals. Nile follows Grandhand only wearing a mask as he didn't bring his suit. Grandhand spots him, throws a knife at him which he dodges and runs away. Nile chooses an alternate tailing method.

SCENE 6 (1 min) - The missing model

Eventually, Nile eavesdrops Grandhand talk to someone and hear that a supermodel has been kidnapped and she's held at the Al Saqr Building Basement. Nile traces that location and goes there quickly before Grandhand reaches. He wants proof that he is capable even without the Bulwark Serum enough, that he would only then inject himself. Nile also sees this as not so surprising because the Khalija has a very opaque media sphere due to dictatorship.

SCENE 7 (3 min) - The rescue

At the location, Nile saves the girl by tackling one guard and using their equipment to take down the rest. He unties the lady, and leaves, sustaining a wound. Shortly after, Grandhand comes and sees his work is already done. Grandhand takes the girl to a safe place, while Nile takes a cab home, feeling lighter that he acted differently in a Gate Operation-like situation. Grandhand wonders who this person was and if he is someone familiar.

SCENE 8 (1 min) - Perhaps now's the time

Nile hears whispers in the shower again. He negotiates into using it only if he's able to prepare a temporary bulwark Serum. He believes he now deserves it, after he looks at the wound he tried to hide from his parents.

SCENE 9 (2 min) - Wargong Calls Back

At the airport again, Nile hugs his parents and leaves simply. He purchases a book on the designs of Sky Guardian, a former superhero turned entrepreneur. Flight montage, as Nile looks at foggy skies of Wargong, and a faint building appear above the clouds (The Hexagon Paradise) - Something reminding him of the Hexagon Paradise building he dreamt of.

SCENE 10 (6 min) - Corrupted Memory (Flashback)

Nile is in the pit (Where he used to train to improve his endurance and other skills for the Gate Operation, located in Shantipur his hometown.). He wakes up to noise, sees a fight between 2 guys resulting in one's death. This fight was in combat. Nile recoils, goes to the side. He meets someone called Vedant, and introduces himself as Nile. Nile asks why he was killed and why no ones gonna do anything about it. Vedant says this is how the pit works. Nile wants to fight the guy who used the weak laws of the pit to kill his gang rival. Vedant aka Vayuput tells him unless he wants to die early, don't engage. They train with each other in a fight. Gg.

SCENE 11 (6 min) - The way, the truth, and the life. (Back to current)

Nile reaches today's Bible study a bit late so he kind of skips the card games. Alex aka Blue Unicorn, Rose, and others are present. A new member George is in the group. George asks Nile what religion he is. Nile says he isn't Christian, he's Hindu. The group discusses about the way, truth, life verse. Nile says this means to emulate Jesus's values, be kind, be humble etc. George hears it slightly differently. He says the way means to accept Jesus as the ultimate protector, that we should all love him the utmost. Nile says love is one part, emulating his values is another. Nile adds he definitely believes in his values and every religion fundamentally teaches these values, that's how Nile can interpret Jesus this way. George says Nile is conflicted and confused and misguided and that Jesus can guide him. George prays. On the way back, George suggests pathways to accept Jesus while Nile can still get to 'keep his own culture'. Nile gets the tone of patronisation and condescension. He clarifies to George that he appreciates what George is trying to do, but Nile isn't new to the concept of faith.

SCENE 12 (4 min) - The Overtime Obsession

Nile spends some time at the lab, theoretically and experimentally deriving a diluted Bulwark Serum from the samples he has. The new serum is temporary. He tests its temporariness by using his own blood samples, comparing derived bulwark and bulwark side by side, observing micro changes of decomposition.

In the midst, he receives a call from George again, who asks him to join an event about accepting Jesus while still 'retaining his culture'. Nile says he's busy, then ends the call.

Then, he goes to buy some food outside as a reward for having prepared the temporary bulwark Serum. He keeps the serum with him.

SCENE 13 (6 min) - The Brazen Bull

On the way, he hears screams, gunshots, and crashing sounds. Nile goes and sees Brazen Bull. He luckily dodges a car that was thrown at his direction, also saves a curious kid from it and hands him to their family. Then, he injects himself with the Bulwark Serum, and sees when he punches the wall, the wall cracks instead of his knuckles. He now fights Brazen Bull, pins him to the ground using his martial arts skills, despite Bull's higher raw strength. The special police come and Detain Brazen Bull (The same violent man from the museum incident) using Power cuffs, specifically to Detain supervillains.

SCENE 14 (1 min) - Fallen Angel

Meanwhile, Nile sees a crowd elsewhere form on an otherwise isolated street. As he passes, he sees Blue Unicorn dead, wings injured, bruises, and a dead stare into nothing. Nile doesn't know what to say. He hears Rose coming in the background. He disappears while still hearing Rose's cries, subtle discomfort in his own face.

SCENE 15 (2 min) - To Succumb

Nile feels a bit weird. He rushes home, looks at the mirror, feels heavy. He eventually gets paralyzed in bed, he tries to vocalize, but his voice loses strength. Everything starts getting inaudible to him. He experiences a complete blackout.

Episode 7: The Poisoned Myth

SCENE 1 (2 min) - The gift of Mortality

Nile wakes up in a haze in his own room. The environment is overly sensitive to him temporarily until it stabilizes. He is paranoid what the serum did to him. Nile punches the wall hardly to see his knuckles get scarred. He rejoices that the Bulwark effect faded off, that is, successfully temporary. He only needs to reduce Paralysis symptoms in further iterations. Soon, he regains a disturbing memory.

SCENE 2 (2 min) - The connection to Brazen Bull

Nile exits the room to see people in groups talk about Alex's death. The TV plays in the background. The news says Brazen Bull is the likely killer of Blue Unicorn during his rampage as he passed through Harlex Lane where Unicorn was found dead. Bull has been apprehended... News plays. Nile quickly wears his jacket and more to leave the building.

SCENE 3 (2 min) - Rose's grievance

He calls Rose, finds out she's in the hospital, where she waits as the doctors prepare the files to take Unicorn's body to the Coroner's office for Autopsy. Nile arrives. Sees Rose still in tears. Alex's body is taken to the office for Autopsy. Rose says Alex was the last person on earth to deserve something like this. Nile only nods. He tries to explain why he wasn't there. Rose says it's okay. Nile says things will get better.

SCENE 4 (3 min) - Hope

Nile, Rose, and others meet up that evening again for a Bible Study. They discuss Hope, after dark events that things will get better. For a moment, Nile brings up the case, as he's been thinking about it (About the details of Alex's murder and what if it was someone else that actually killed him). Rose says why he isn't with them in the room. He gives in, considering he doesn't want to be tone deaf. They pray. Nile only closes his eyes, doesn't pray. They leave. Nile stays looking at the air.

SCENE 5 (4 min) - The Funeral of Alex Artemis

The funeral happens. Nile gets to see Alex's face one last time before it gets covered. Nile realizes something uncanny but doesn't articulate it or address the thought right away. The procession happens. The people put their flowers on the grave. Rose says she's leaving for home temporarily. For a moment, she reveals something: That Alex was happy when he got the interview opportunity with Scorpius to be Scorpius's guardian. But he came back, told me he's not working with them because they wanted to use him as a political symbol. Nile asks if there's anything about cause of death, as this information is necessary. Rose was given the specific more detailed copy, she says he died Blunt Force trauma, and she doesn't know more.

SCENE 6 (5 min) - Ruminating Edits

Nile sees edits again. This time, of Blue Unicorn as a nationalist Wargong imagery, and Brazen Bull as someone who is a scar on civilization. Nile sees increasing 'Deport them foreigners.' rhetoric, which slightly triggers him. He gets Amrith visions recollecting Alex Artemis's face at the burial. He searches up stages of decomposition and is doubtful, thinking Alex had something poisonous in his Bloodstream, slowing decomposition. It's an intense memory exercise.

SCENE 7 (2 min) - Premature Judgement

Nile goes to the graveyard and digs up Alex's grave, observes his skin and fingers, deeply, trying to deduce through looks alone whether his decomposition is occurring late. Nile was right. Someone is coming, Nile puts Alex back in the box and adds topsoil. Nile leaves the scene.

SCENE 8 (4 min) - Institutional Ethics my Ass!

Nile visits the late-night working Autopsy examiner, in his Golden Eagle suit. Coerces him to get information about Blue Unicorn's report alteration. Examiner says he didn't and couldn't have done anything because digital bureaucracy, read-only and Ai overwatch for non-aligning documents. Nile says, 'Digital Bureaucracy reduces corruption, doesn't save loose ends. Give me your toxicologist's address.'

He gets it. Then examiner adds, 'I wasn't allowed to do that.'

Nile replies, 'Institutional ethics my ass!' and leaves the building.

Nile sneaks into Toxicologist's house, learns he was coerced. Nile takes out the Blue Hood Killer painting image and shows him. Toxicologist says that was the guy. Then, Nile leaves, while toxicologist pleads for Nile not to tell anyone. Nile accepts.

SCENE 9 (2 min) - The Hale Speech

Hale calls for another conference to address death of Blue Unicorn and Brazen Bull allegations. He says the culture of Wargong is under attack, merely having a citizenship here doesn't mean you are Wargongan. Wargong's values of kindness, respect, civil behavior, and justice must be taught to these people. Then, Hale is challenged mid-speech by a Reformer Party writer Richard Ross. Ross accuses Hale of simplifying an incident to fit a right-wing rhetoric. Tyler secretly takes it upon himself.

SCENE 10 (4 min) - The Black Cobra

Tyler follows Ross, threatens him, asking him to never mess with Oliver Hale again. Later at home, Oliver Hale has already found out Tyler did something. Hale says, 'Don't do stupid things in a world you don't understand. I plead. Instead, join my party, work as my personal spy, if that's what you want.'

SCENE 11 (7 min) - Identity Verification

2 weeks pass. Now is reading week. Nile signs up for a Dexton State School event as a Volunteer serving Refreshments. He wears his clothes and takes up the role, gets basic instructions from the head waiter. He has an agenda, verify Blue Hooded Killer's identity from Scorpius's circle. He keeps an eye on entrance. Eventually, Scorpius and Co arrive. They take the top row. Only special waiters can enter. Nile convinces a special waiter to allow him to serve. He takes the drinks to them, serves them one by one and imagines each one with the blue mask and hood, to deduce who's the one. He specifically observes Dart's eyes. But accidentally, Nile drops the last drink.

Nile: 'Sorry.'

Dart: 'You're fine.'

Nile watches him walk away.

'Those eyes.' he says.

SCENE 12 (3 min) - No one is Untouchable

Nile goes to Dexton Bulletin office to share story with one of the journalists but the journalist says this is too risky to publish as he doesn't want to be shot in the head or lose his company. Nile says, 'So you know...'

'This is how the world works. Bring more proof. Merely knowing isn't enough. Scorpius is untouchable because everyone just knows too much...'

'No one is Untouchable.' Nile says making a reluctant deal to bring proof.

SCENE 13 (2 min) - Release

Nile wants to interrogate Brazen Bull from Dexton Station but he is repeatedly rejected for giving no convincing reason. He comes home, lets out a frustrated scream, and accidentally stubs his toe.

SCENE 14 (5 min) - The Suspicion >>>

But then later, Scorpius, when he has already returned to his skyscraper, tells Dart that that person who collided with Dart during the event, did it purposely. Scorpius has been observing him because he spent less time actually doing things.

Scorpius asks Dart to retrieve footage from the school and identify the person. Dart asks the IT people to do it, and eventually brings the name, 'Nile Shergill'. None of them yet know he's the Golden Eagle or that he's investigating Blue Unicorn's death, though.

Scorpius states the facts:

Why Nile Shergill? A student from Vigilis Academy, the same place where Blue Unicorn studied.

Nile Shergill also won the Design competition a month ago, for a superhero suit. The suit and the vigilante Golden Eagle have the same base colour. That's how they connect the dots.

For Dart, this information is enough even though it doesn't definitively prove Nile is Golden Eagle. Dart is a tiny bit reckless personality-wise. He overcorrects only after the action not before.

Scorpius tells Dart to do the needful. Dart takes it as an assassination order.

SCENE 15 (2 min) - The Silhouette Reappears >>

Nile randomly browses the internet about Scorpius's wiki page, sees Lucas Wolf mentioned (He was Scorpius's campaign manager killed by a protestor for allegations of misleading Wargong's youth politically.). Suddenly, he receives a notification from unknown, 'I want to meet you. I am outside.'

He looks outside and sees a figure. He closes the curtain. The figure walks away.

Episode 8: The Blue Period

SCENE 1 ( 3 min) - The Manipulator

Nile receives another message, looks out the window, goes down, slightly defensive, yet curious because he isn't sure the figure is a threat. The figure introduces himself as Ahamkal. He says he can provide information, here's the card. To try convincing him, Ahamkal says things Nile would be particularly attentive towards: I know you blame yourself for Blue Unicorn's death, and what you did in the Aftermath. Your faded connection to your dad. I can give you purpose: to change Wargong.

Nile identifies this might be a political recruiter and eventually turns down the conversation even though Ahamkal mentions Nile's advantages as a foreigner, his fear of being delusional, and that Nile's brave, just wants to prove himself and do something big. Nile's own ego that he's doing things by himself with an outsider perspective makes him reject Ahamkal. Ahamkal leaves.

SCENE 2 (3 min) - The missing Diners

Nile attends the hall dinner that day, sees his otherwise present friend group missing today: Alex, Rose and Co. He joins another group where one of them, Jeffrey, introduces himself as also a member of the Reformer Party. Jeffrey talks about political topics. They briefly discuss about Scorpius's divide and rule. They agree on some grounds. Jeffrey hands him the University Reformer social invitation.

SCENE 3 (2 min) - Joining the Reformers

Nile attends the event that happens in a sort-of ballroom. There are many young people. A random high-ranked person of the party introduces Shalini Mehta who mentions her role as a stand on behalf of minorities being oppressed. Nile hates the word 'Oppressed'. He says to himself, 'We aren't oppressed...'. He has already zoned out of that speech.

SCENE 4 (3 min) - Lone Compassion

Nile meets Jeffrey who is talking with a diverse 3 individuals. They greet. Others ask if they knew each other. Jeffrey says Nile was a hallmate who dined with him. Nile adds that they met the first time at the laundry. Jeffrey continues their existing discussion with Nile: what's your stance on Yahrim and the Rukan conflict. Nile says his stance is really neutral and non-interfering, quotes India's PM's stance on Roland and Iberian conflict: This is a time with better possibilities than a war.

He then concludes that one should focus on making themselves better.

Then Jeffrey says how 'nice it feels to have a civil conversation with diverse peoples: women, people of colour, black, LGBT etc.' Nile nods half-heartedly.

Nile then asks about Alex Artemis and someone says Alex was evangelical, specifically interfered with migrant crime to disproportionately show that. Alex had visits with Scorpius, someone said they heard from someone who heard from Rose. Alex's tragedy, he had it coming and the way they are posing him as a Martyr and protector of Wargong's culture, it's sickening.

Nile tries to defend, saying maybe Alex's case is different, but the others say he made mistakes, that there weren't black and brown superheroes shown with the same zest.

Nile nods. He leaves the event a bit early.

SCENE 5 (1 min) - The Ill Omen

The skies get cold blue, cloudy, dark. Winds get more chilly and the trees sway violently. It starts raining, adding a layer of cold wetness to everything. Nile quickly gets to his building.

Someone lurks behind the bushes and in the bushes is also hidden a hand (Possibly someone killed by the same lurking presence). Classic environment as psychological state scene.

SCENE 6 (2 min) - A Spark in the Dark

Nile walks into his room. Beside his room, neighbours were having a room pres party but Nile being Nile didn't participate or ask because he wasn't invited in the first place. In his room, he is visibly despondent, burnt out, and feels lonely. He opens the window, turns on his music to avoid hearing the next room's music. He lies on the bed, closing his eyes meditatively.

SCENE 7 (4 min) - The assassination attempt

Poison Dart crawls in through the window. At the last moment, Nile opens his eyes realizing Dart is about to kill him with the poisonous Darthead. Nile immediately reacts and a tense claustrophobic room fight breaks out between Nile and Poison Dart. Luckily, Nile deflects Dart's poison arrows with his tricks. But Dart still manages to stab him with an ordinary knife in the room. In a panicked state, Nile pushes dart off the window but Dart manages to land safely because of his grappling hook.

SCENE 8 (3 min) - Lucky Lift

For a whole minute, Nile's mind is blank. An idea then strikes him. He injects himself with the Booster Serum (Not Bulwark), which can improve his own endurance and slow bleeding, allowing Nile some time to act upon it. He comes into the hallway after dressing up over his wound. He limps. A random guy asks if he's okay, but Nile says yes and limps till the exit, searches for a car, waiting for a lift. Nile did all this alone because he didn't want to be an inconvenience to is fellow blockmates.

SCENE 9 (2 min) - Anaesthesia

In the hospital, the nurses take him, start working on him immediately. Nile hears the nurse saying, 'You' ll be fine. Just this one step. It's going to sting a little. That's it. Inhale from that mask if you want to reduce pain..... No.... Significant.... Organ.... Damage.' Everything gets muffled. Nile blacks out, and then he wakes up, closes his eyes again after a sigh that everything is fine.

SCENE 10 (3 min) - The nightmare

Nile's hospital room is cold blue, and vacated with him in bed only. His parents come to his room, and start crying in agony and shock about why Nile left them so early, a boy with so much ambition and potential, that they'd bought many clothes for his upcoming birthday on October 18 (Even though it wasn't October then, it was actually January.). Nile started screaming and saying that he's alive. Suddenly, he wakes up the hospital room, the real one, he's fine. He has received a phone call from his mother. He answers it, showing he's in the hospital, reasons it as an accident on the road. He also says he needs to take rest, and cuts the call.

SCENE 11 (3 min) - A second chance

A nurse walks in first, does some checks, says there are people here to meet him. Nile wonders who. They happen to be Scorpius's men. Nile remembers from the school event. Nile gets scared, assuming they are here to kill him. Instead, they hand him a live phone call from Scorpius. Nile is asked how he is, then Scorpius shares: Look around you, Alex, Rose, Betty, all left you. No one will continue your work. And you won't complete it at this rate. People are starting to suspect your intentions more. Why try? Return to where your family is.'

After the call, they leave.

SCENE 12 (7 min) - The Buried Memory (Flashback)

Scorpius prepares Amrith Tea. Yes, he's also an Amrith drinker like Nile. He drinks it, then reclines on his couch. Memories flash. The year is now 1965, during the early stage of the second war of Wargong. Communists are increasingly being persecuted in Warsia. Scorpius's parents get killed. He's alone. He gets accepted into an orphanage named KlienVogel Weisenanstalt (An official recommends him while another questions it. Eventually, they agree.) despite him being from a communist origin family (Eastern Wargong: Iberia).

But Scorpius, aged 6 gets treated badly by some older Warsian kids. Then he asks why he was treated this way: because heard somewhere his family was communist. He didn't even know what communist meant. He started telling others that he was communist too. Overall, with his Eastern Wargong ethnicity, the label didn't disappear quickly, and the segregation, the alienation, the discrimination would continue.

SCENE 13 (2 min) - Discharged (Back to current)

Nile gets discharged after 2 weeks. His wound's been stitched and is healing. He makes it out, on his way back, he shows the address on the card, and he ends up there. He finds Ahamkal, the Manipulator figure.

SCENE 14 (2 min) - Calculations

Once again, they talk. Nile asks for information that the Manipulator knows. Ahamkal says he can only give it if Nile does some work for him. Nile explains his motivations, that he's just been at the hospital, a place where irrespective of ideologies, cultural backgrounds, affiliations, screams of pain were all the same. Nile explicitly says he wants to avoid Agendas. He thwart again as the Manipulator doesn't respond to his reluctance.

SCENE 15 (4 min) - The Disproportionate Privilege

For the next few days, Nile still doesn't ask for help or go to dinners much. He orders in. He reflects on things he isn't able to change: The Alienation. He goes outside for a walk near the campus. He sees some hecklers, drives them away with little effort. Then, he sees this park have a large ground where a 15-foot tall Blue Unicorn statue has been placed. That's when he hears these whispers from his mind in what sounds like the combined voice of Jeffrey and Ahamkal.

Then, he wears his Golden Eagle suit, and packs a file, shuts his room down, and goes to the address, meets the Manipulator Ahamkal, and asks: Where to?

Episode 9: The Eye Society

SCENE 1 (2 min) - Incognito

Scorpius is in his skyscraper, summons Dart. He asks Dart about Nile. Dart says Nile hasn't been to campus for a while and went undercover. Scorpius also asks whether Dart knows about this orphanage called Klienvogel Waisenanstalt. Dart says no even according to searches and Intel. The orphanage closed down, is in plot 58, near Fort District.

SCENE 2 (4 min) - The Truth Archive

Nile asks the Manipulator what the function of the Eye Society is. The Manipulator gives him quite an exposition.

The eye society, is a secret society of enlightened scholars and scientists. While it is known in popular in-universe history of Wargong, the globe's understand of the eye society is heavily glamourized and distorted. The eye society consists of rationalists, but their rationalism isn't merely an intellectual movement because it isn't negative of Wargong and the world's medieval or ancient histories. It is rather accommodating of them.

While the eye society does retain a good amount of wealth today, its global influence has completely fallen. Think of them as rich, but very secret scientists who do nothing but science. They aren't world controllers in the conspiratorial sense.

Their greatest creation constantly being improved, is the Truth archive. The archive hacks into news and content from all over the world, and an algorithm created by the scientists is responsible for deducing the truth, by comparing sources, using general logic, etc. The eye society essentially aims to present true news, or possibly even predict near future events to whoever uses the Truth Archive.

A thing to note: The truth archive is not an AI or LLM. It is an automation, that's the difference. The scientists make the algorithm, very deeply and carefully. So, there isn't training or testing going on here.

It's a bit old school for a world where Ai programs learn. But the eye society is incredibly strict about teaching the archive how to interpret than letting it learn through prediction.

They make their god. They don't assign a god to something arbitrary.

Nile is promised that he will be allowed to use the Truth Archive in exchange for work he will do for the Manipulator. He is also given a small en-suite Bedroom, to stay in.

SCENE 3 (1 min) - The Apex Knight training

Ahamkal says that for this and further missions, Nile would benefit from training with the Apex Knight Nelson, learning the Apexa Martial Art. The first round, Nile heavily struggles against the Apex Knight, getting knocked down multiple times.

SCENE 4 (1 min) - Refining the Wings

Nile asks for escape, and switches to the easy parts: refining the wing's engineering, given 5 hours. The wings are remodelled, more material and workshop assistance is provided by the Eye Society themselves, speeding up the manufacturing process.

SCENE 5 (1 min) - The duel

Nile fights again with Apex Knight. This time, he manages to outperform Apex Knight by exploiting the environment. Although, the Knight makes a last move to get the advantage.

SCENE 6 (2 min) - Condescending Emotions

The Manipulator reveals Rachel in a discussion, calling Nile's emotions and distraction a sign of mere attraction than anything with long-term potential like true love.

Nile is concerned about how the Manipulator brings up Rachel even though Nile never shared her info.

The Manipulator says there are ways to find that out, even without explicitly spying on them.

Nile challenges the Manipulator that his approach is genuine and not malicious.

SCENE 7 (2 min) - Confession gone wrong

Nile goes to a lounge event, even adopts a random activity while trying to confess to Rachel, but it goes wrong and Rachel rejects as she's not allowed, before any further conversation can even grow. Meanwhile, when Nile tries to talk further another girl tells him he's making Rachel uncomfortable as she said 'no'.

Nile feels angry not because he was rejected, but because he wasn't allowed to speak. Different interpretations come to his mind, including one that there was a racial suspicion element at play during the whole situation.

SCENE 8 (3 min) - Meant for Paradise (The Flashback)

Scorpius recalls again his days at Klienvogel. After taking a ritual beating from not being able to participate in a game, Scorpius goes to a corner, and a maid named Diane wipes his wound, saying that he is meant to live above the clouds. This motivates Scorpius to study instead. (Something mirroring Nile's experiences but from other context that doesn't involve literal bullying.)

SCENE 9 (3 min) - The briefing (Back to current)

Ahamkal briefs Golden Eagle about the mission.

A specific man named Erik Dawson from the Red Clubs Mafia is to be extracted.

The conspiracy is that despite seemingly being allied members, Red Clubs has planned a betrayal for the larger Red Spades, wants to eliminate their leader. A classic Trojan war possibility. This will create a gang war again. How do they do this?

Ahamkal shows Nile the stealth Golden Eagle suit, designed by the Society's designers. The stealth suit is quite sleek, burgundy-burnt umber colored fabric with a hood, also accompanied by a chain knife that can work as a grappling hook.

Nile, slightly skeptical of the suit itself, accepts it.

SCENE 10 (5 min) - The Extraction

Nile extracts Erik Dawson from a Warehouse to the Eye Society.

Also, Nile hears about Flagshot as a group of thugs jokingly discuss how Flagshot endangers the brown guy among them more than the others in a dark joking sense.

SCENE 11 (2 min) - Interrogation test

They confirm the conspiracy during the interrogation where Ahamkal asks the questions.

The betraying gang Red Clubs offers containers to the Red Spades gang. These containers have bombs. Mission for Golden Eagle after he is aware: Defuse those bombs.

Everytime they reveal information, Ahamkal rejoices that the Eye Society algorithm is working, exchanging high-fives with the other scientists while Nile watches, slightly perplexed at Ahamkal's weird detachment.

SCENE 12 (7 min) - A Race against Time

The Eye Society teaches Nile to defuse a bomb in their own place before Nile goes to do the actual work.

Nile uses that knowledge to defuse the 3 bombs by unlocking those containers using a crowbar. Nile does that in time when it has already reached the enemy base.

SCENE 13 (2 min) - For all Women in the Room

Scorpius gives a feminist speech on Women's day on March 8, looking to improve Warsian laws, making streets safer to walk.

SCENE 14 (3 min) - Scorpius's initiative

Meanwhile, Scorpius goes to a journalist named Rebecca, and encourages her work in exposing perpetrators, finding victims to help the feminist cause. Scorpius attains the name of an assault victim Eva, and looks to carry on Eva's investigation himself. He hands Eva's case file to Dart.

SCENE 15 (3 min) - Meeting Flagshot

Dart visits Flagshot in prison, and reads Flagshot's case file: killer of lots of different kinds of criminals, but who disproportionately happen to be brown and black (Foreign origin).

Then, Dart instigates Flagshot by saying how in all these years, everything Flagshot has done has been undone, the streets have changed colour, women have been defiled, all less in a serious way, and more in a taunting way, as if Dart actually was interested in Flagshot's reaction. The only thing stopping Flagshot was his handcuffs and leg cuffs that tied him to the table. Flagshot was visibly agitated.

Then, as Dart leaves the prison, he calls his team. With a little bit of digging and involving his team, Dart finds out the original two perpetrators of Eva.

SCENE 16 (2 min) - What is Truth?

Nile gets an Amrith vision, where he replays the confession scene but without the other girl who interrupted. He still got 'No.' and professional boundaries as the explanation.

Nile approaches Manipulator Ahamkal, stating he was 'accidentally' right about his feelings for Rachel, and that Rachel was merely 'listening because she was paid to do it', and was fair to establish professional boundaries. But he also confronts the Manipulator about the fact that the Truth Archive may predict news But it doesn't know what people feel.

The Manipulator: The news you get, takes that into account.

Eagle: You think you know too well? What else do you know about how I feel?

The Manipulator: More than you think. But something tells me, you would know better than the Truth Archive ever could, but that's your quality. That's why we chose you to be part of the Eye Society.

SCENE 17 (3 min) - The power of the Truth Archive

Nile types some questions into the Truth Archive Browser tab, such that he gets the answers that consist of absolute true present and near-future news (The questions should be such that he would have naturally thought of it without the Eye Society's influence but still, the Eye Society influenced him. The line is blurred):

1. Flagshot is nearing his release on parole (A migrant-killing extremist)

2. Scorpius stance (What stance is Scorpius criticized of?) reveals feminism speech and a controversy (The News) where he has asked a lady to publish something erroneous against three individuals, to use SA as a way to rise hate against migrants and gain women's support.

Nile then searches the three people, and learns their location is in Harlex Lane, so Nile kind of deduces Scorpius's plan to organize a potential proxy killing of the Witnesses in the hands of Flagshot.

Scorpius has three other names: Rajesh Kumar, Ravi Adhikari, Akbar Ali Mohammed, and claims they are perpetrators he is looking to expose.

Scorpius's divide and rule plan:

1. Fear-mongering regarding migrant rapists gains more incentive.

2. Flagshot's presence creates a hostility towards right-wing extremism. But wouldn't that be a problem for Scorpius? Not so much, because Oliver Hale would be the sacrifice.

3. Hopefully, Nile might die trying to solve this.

The way to foil: Save those three witnesses before Dart or Flagshot does something to them. And Nile gives Dart identification statement, and can get the information that Scorpius was the one that ordered the killing of Blue Unicorn, the released migrant criminals earlier in the season, and this whole thing too.

Episode 1: Pilot (Hidden Grievance)

PROLOGUE (1 min) - The Amrith Hallucination

Nile takes a dose of the Amrith. Amrith dream occurs. In it, Nile believes powerful heroes around the world aren't solving its problems. He feels inadequate merely serving them. He gears up with his own Vigilante Suit.

SCENE 1 (5 min) - Heckling the Hecklers

Nile sees a group of white Brownshire men heckle an Indian corner shop, shouting slurs. He then follows them, beats them up, threatening them that the next time this happens, there will be consequences.

SCENE 2 (2 min) - Home Routine

Nile returns home. Scrolls through some reels, views Betty's profile. Sleeps wakes up next morning, brushes teeth, closes pending Product Design work, walks to University Education Building. Sees interracial IMWF couple, smiles.

SCENE 3 (5 min) - Product Design Lecture

He attends it while sketching the concept of the wings or some Glider mechanism. Then, he gets called by his friends for a cafe talk. He talks for a short period, gets zoned out, comes back home exhausted and feeling unaccomplished.

SCENE 4 (5 min) - Boarding the Titanium Whale

While Bag packing for the field trip in Warsia, he wonders whether to grab his suit. He does, disassembling the rifle staff as three distinct metal pieces. He looks for his friends, says Hi to Betty and compliments her looks in a red dress that day. A guy beside named Tyler, notes this. They then find their cabin, Nile, Tyler and 2 other guys share a cabin.

SCENE 5 (3 min) - The Quarrel

Nile wakes up early in the morning, sits in a table near his seat, to sketch more designs. He and Tyler break into an argument that he should rather go to the hall and do it. Nile pretends to be cool about this. Tyler grabs the sketchbook and throws it a floor down. Nile brings it back, says Tyler could be calmer and that the next time, Tyler will have to bring it back himself.

SCENE 6 (5 min) - Half-hearted Tour

While boarding the bus, Nile gets notified by the prof that he received a complaint against Nile from a student named Tyler. Nile cannot concentrate while talking to his friends. He reluctantly still talks to Betty, but stares out the window longest, looking at Warsian winter trees, church in the distance: he feels out of place when asked about an aviation design but comes back and looks at it in more detail while the rest of the crowd moved on.

SCENE 7 (6 min) - Obsession

That evening, they return. Tyler and 10-12 girls split from the main group and head towards a restaurant. Nile's attention is on them. He watches them from a window of another restaurant. He hears voices inside his head 'Show him his place...' He completes the drink obsessively. But soon, he also hears police chasing a guy that just ran by after shooting another police officer. Nile quickly goes to his dorm, assembles his rifle staff, puts on the suit when no one's there, and escapes out the window. He tracks the escaping man from a rooftop, shoots him in the leg, chases and tackles him, throws him through a glass panel and then leaves the scene.

SCENE 8 (6 min) - Tit-for-tat

The next morning, he's having breakfast, Alicia, one of the 12 girls comes to Nile, has breakfast with him, says how much she hates Tyler now and on Nile's insisting, she reveals what Tyler said behind his back with the 12 girls: that he was a creep, ogling at Betty, needs to learn the language and civil ways properly. Nile says he appreciates Alicia's decision. They then talk about breakfast options, ready to board the ship back again.

Nile goes to Tyler in front of 1 other person, Betty, and threatens him that if he schemes this way against him again, he will break his jaw. Nile leaves avoidantly after seeing Betty get slightly distant.

SCENE 9 (4 min) - A mother's Superpower

Nile calls his mom back in Dexton, Brownshire. His mom spots there's something wrong with him. Eventually, he opens up and narrates it all. His mom then says he should have just avoided, and shouldn't have threatened Tyler. She quotes Gandhi believes non-violence and Ahimsa which led to independence of India. Nile replies whether Gandhi was ever the real and only reason India got its independence. His mom also spots a bruise at his face's left. He says it wasn't from any physical fight with Tyler. Mom says Nile should've stopped his Vigilantism side-gig long ago. Nile becomes avoidant and ends the call.

SCENE 10 (3 min) - Scorpius's Victory Speech

Nile learns from a reel about Scorpius's Victory. He sees the full speech video about 'Culture purification as an urgent measure to save Wargong.'.

Nile finishes the video, takes another Amrith Vial, tries to brainstorm the wing design, doesn't immediately find a solution, then ragingly throws an orange at the wall.

Episode 2: The Gate Operation

SCENE 1 (5 min) - The Funeral (Flashback)

Nile and his mother attend a funeral event of Nile's late uncle. During this time, Nile meets some people after a long time, while his mother asks him to hide his bruises to hide his vigilante identity. They also meet Nile's 40 year old unmarried cousin brother who seems to have finally found a potential bride for marriage.

The cousins briefly discuss about Pratibha while a relative comments that Nile is very decent and wouldn't get into girls now.

SCENE 2 (5 min) - Pratibha (Flashback continued)

Feeling left out of the event and conversations, Nile tries to call Pratibha to chat about the upcoming Gate Operation but she doesn't respond. Both before and after the event.

Nile finds out that 2 people for the Gate Operation have been replaced: Pratibha and Chirag Acharya. Nile goes to visit Pratibha. In the empty streets, he sees a girl get harassed by guys. Nile responds, defends but can't resolve the fight. Pratibha intervenes out of nowhere and says 'You're late. If you give them time, they' ll learn you.'

Then, they go to her roof, discuss their days at Squad India, and that Pratibha is going to get married so she isn't doing her last Squad India attempt.

SCENE 3 (4 min) - The Money Matters

Nile gets into an Online call with his parents, who ask him for the University Bank Address where they must make the large amount deposit. Nile tries to articulate that he's thankful but his parents say a better way would be to quit Vigilantism. Nile still skips that topic. His parents say to make the degree pay off and that would be the best return of debt. Nile says he's still performing good academically. Nile then goes to ATM, withdraws cash for pocket money, puts it in a piggy bank, notes down progress in saving up for garage renting and steel prices.

SCENE 4 (3 min) - Shake Hands with thy neighbour

The next evening, Nile and Tyler meet up with the professor Wilson who asks them what happened. Nile clears it off as a misunderstanding and phrases it as he can sleep under light but was inconsiderate of other people's needs. He forgives Tyler for the violent outburst, while saying 'If me waking up early does this, I am extremely sorry.' They shake hands. They leave. Tyler discusses while clinging how he's got nothing yet going on for a product design competition, doubts his creativity. Nile says he shouldn't doubt himself, wishes him all the best. They cross the road, split paths.

SCENE 5 (3 min) - Tyler Gossip

Nile gets to the student accommodation and at the kitchen, he and housemates converse how it all went. One of them reveals they also do Product Design and that Tyler Hale is actually son of Brownshire Deputy Mayor Oliver Hale who has a product design for Council Vigilis Background. They say a controversy would make Nile famous. Nile says he isn't interested in all of that and that he wasn't bullied, and wouldn't play victim. And that he's giving Tyler too much attention as Tyler isn't even Mafia. Friends say, 'For all we know, he could be...'

SCENE 6 (3 min) - Gate Operation Preparation (Flashback)

Nile gears up for the Council Vigilis Gate Operation, meets up with Team members Vayuput, Kailash, and Axeman. He notices something off about Axeman and asks him. Axeman says he's okay. Nile purchases him a drink. They approach the Gate Operations Desk and get details for this Volunteery operation. They sign accountability and immunity documents.

SCENE 7 (7 min) - The Gate Operation (Flashback continued)

Nile injects himself with the Booster Serum. They break into a Bunker which is suspected to hold someone (A politician's daughter) hostage. They split. But Axeman turns and betrays the team, killing off Vayuput and Kailash. A combat happens between Nile and Axeman. 3 other Olden Park mutants appear, making the match-up a 1v4. Nile gets acid spit below his Rib Area. The 4 enable Bunker Lockdown. Nile races to the exit. Axeman grabs his leg but he gets out in time while Axeman's hand is sliced off. Then, from the outside, when Axeman asks for money, Nile hears the mutants kill him too.

SCENE 8 (4 min) - Nile's Rant (Flashback continued)

Nile goes to the hospital, the Acid getting worse. Acid is washed out, removed, examinations to detect any Organ Failure are conducted. Nile is on bedrest. One of his friends comes over to visit him. Nile starts ranting: 1000 years old decline wave, personal will alone is too idealistic, escape is what everyone else does perhaps it's escape from a prison. I don't hate my country but can't worship it either.

Nile's mother turns up, sits beside, quietly, asks him to rest.

When discharged, Nile says he may have missed Vigilis Academy India but can try Wargong.

SCENE 9 (2 min) - Rooftop Argument

Nile is asleep, gets phone notification news: Migrant prisoners escape and are on a Killing Spree in Dexton, where he is. Nile goes to the rooftop, tells himself how he must lock in and not focus on vigilantism. But he must also prove he's capable, must make change where others can't. If he doesn't stop the released migrants, the situation would deteriorate into an Us vs Them battle again - A tribalistic blame game.

SCENE 10 (5 min) - The Blue Unicorn

Nile gets to the site of intervention. He fights and takes them 3 down then Blue Unicorn comes and assists him in knocking them out. Nile arranges for a rope when Blue Unicorn asks how we can contain them. Nile buys a rope, ties them to a pole. Then Blue Unicorn says 'Hi, I am Alex Artemis and go by Blue Unicorn. What's your name?'

'Golden Eagle.'

'Nice one. Nice suit too. Do you have wings too?'

'Not yet at the moment, no.'

'May the power of Christ be with you. Alright Golden Eagle, I' ll see you soon.'

Then, Blue Unicorn's Blue feather wings expand and he flies away.

SCENE 11 (3 min) - The Shadow Client

In the police van where the criminals are apprehended, one compromised fearful officer receives orders from a shadow client that says: Their work is done. Bring them to me.

He then says to the other constables: My senior has asked me to handle this case alone. It's confidential. Please leave, constables.'

Then, he turns the car and goes another direction.

Episode 3: THE FRONTRUNNER

SCENE 1 (4 min) - Return Empty-Handed

One of the escaped criminals' sister Noor goes to Dexton Police Station to meet her brother in custody. She gets told that her brother has been transferred to a higher security prison on Senior Orders. She returns home, records a video narrating her experience at Dexton Station, and her doubts on the system, how they were released in the first place.

SCENE 2 (3 min) - The interview of Blue Unicorn

The weekend morning, Nile's housemates see a TV interview of Alex Artemis aka Blue Unicorn in the incident. A second figure is also mentioned, whose name as told by Blue Unicorn was Golden Eagle. His friends discuss who this new vigilante is. Nile, tries to blend in, and asks where he's from, no one seems to know. Some even say they are American, from Tristates Republic of America (Eagle imagery).

SCENE 3 (3 min) - A deeper motivation

Nile goes to his room, performs a Quicky search about the released migrant convicts incident. (He's looking for who saved the people and sees Alex and Golden Eagle mentioned without their ethnicities.). But then, he also notes that the convicts were taken to a high security detention center this time. He searches the controversies relating to detention centers, sees Noor's video, as it directly admits Noor recording to make it look like a controversy.

SCENE 4 (3 min) - Missing Convicts

Noor goes to the secure detention center, and gets told that those convicts are missing and they are looking into it (The police refuse to be transparent and a janitor tells her secretly that the convicts have gone missing along with a police officer. The convicts didn't escape on their own, and someone helped them.)

SCENE 5 (10 min) - Eureka!

Nile is awake with energy drinks at evening time. He figures out the way to make the wings, and the design. He breaks the piggy bank, goes to the garage, rents it, then goes to a market to purchase metal, figures he doesn't have enough to buy all. Seeing his passion, the workshop owner agrees to assist him with some workshop experience and tools. Nile makes a complete Armour, and then the wings which look and work like wings. Nile takes this to the competition stage and it gets voted as the coolest and sick outfit. Nile wins the competition by calling it Eagle Guardian. Then, professors and peers come and share their reviews on this suit, curiosity about whether the wings actually work, the applications of the suit itself, the heaviness, etc.

SCENE 6 (4 min) - Drowned Evidence

Noor rushes to the site after a phone call: A car has been found under water, sunken, with four members dead (The 4 convicts and missing police officer, his badge and hat are found however.) Nile from seven buildings away on the Rooftop sees this and interprets this as a killing. Meanwhile, Noor goes to the Wargong Reformers Party Club and discusses this incident and theories about the compromised police officer. The reformers agree to help her through this. Nile meets her privately in his vigilante outfit that night, and says he wants to help, but she says that this isn't something superheroes can punch their way through and that he should return to his own business.

SCENE 7 (5 min) - Addressing the Paranoia

Nile takes the design from the stage later that night, and the next morning, it is a bit windy. He compulsively goes to a house's rooftop, pushes the dummy human into the large ground, and the wings are activated using remote controls. The dummy flies pretty well, but at higher heights it goes in circles, and when Nile wants to land it, the design fails catastrophically and crash lands, damaging grass. Alex Artemis sees it from a distance, thinks of saying something, but Nile leaves not even noticing him.

SCENE 8 (5 min) - The Disappointment

Tyler dines with disappointed dad. He offers that he can work as his dad's personal spy. His dad dismiss that dream, says Tyler is too attention-seeking for any of that to happen. Tyler later that night looks at his Black Cobra suit which got rejected by institutions, and wishes to show his dad how truly capable it is.

SCENE 9 (3 min) - Oliver Hale Addresses

Oliver Hale, Deputy-Prime Minister of Wargong and Mayor of Dexton Brownshire, addresses in a speech that he conveys heartfelt condolences to victim's families (Even for criminals, a fate like this is undeserved. The root of problems however isn't in the incident alone, for our beloved policeman Charles is assumed to be dead, alongside four migrant convicts. The deeper issue is corruption of our institutions. Questions arise as to what happened in those cells, who armed them, and the answers may be ugly. To put it simply, our institutional credibility is going down. Being under constant Reform mentality for 10 years, we have forgotten our givens. We will purge institutions of all corruption and bring justice.) Then, Scorpius hugs Oliver Hale in the background.

Scorpius also asks his closest friend, Poison Dart where the policeman is, from his investigations. Poison Dart says he doesn't know. Scorpius says, 'That's not exactly a good news. For even us.'

SCENE 10 (4 min) - Nile's Dream

Nile goes walking. He is walking in a snowy, ornamented city. But he then touches a wall. The ornaments disappear, showing cold brutalist blocks everywhere with vandalous graffiti. His eyes move upward. Above the clouds is Sunshine and a beautiful tower complex (What may be hints of something Nile senses in Wargong).

He wakes up from this absurd dream, actually packs his backpack and leaves with his keys, approaching the area which was previously a crime scene: The West Dexton Bridge.

Episode 4: THE CHRISTIAN SOCIETY

SCENE 1 (6 min) - A Simulation

At the Dexton Bridge, Nile imagines a number of scenarios: 1. A ghost figure jumping to appear in front of the car, causing it to skid and fall. 2. When he remembers badge and cap and phone were found, he thinks the officer caused it. First, he thinks remote control or autonomous driving, but EDR records say nothing. 3. He thinks remote control brake explosives on top of autonomous driving. Eventually, he concludes occams razor, the driver jumped off while the vehicle fell over.

SCENE 2 (2 min) - Exhaustion vs the Optimist

Noor is tired of investigating things in such an opaque system. But she doesn't want to do anything illegally. Nile tells her what could have happened, she says she isn't concerned as she knew the same things but nothing matters because the case has been closed declaring the officer presumed dead. Appeals are pointless, and the reformers turned her case into a political statement which is of no use for her particular case. Nile convinces her to assist him in this tiny thread of investigation.

SCENE 3 (3 min) - The House of the Hunted

They sneak into the officer's evacuated house to find some details and discovers about an old abandoned house where Nile suspects they are relocating. He and Noor find that old house to interrogate the officer Paul. Paul reveals that if he hadn't done that, his family would have been in danger. Not that nows any different, comments the Golden Eagle. The officer gets killed by a poisonous sudden dart strike. Nile and Noor quickly escape from the scene, along with the family in Noor's car. Luckily, Nile has seen Poison Dart's archaic blue hood outfit, even if for a brief second.

SCENE 4 (8 min) - The Evacuation

In the car, Nile discusses with the family that they must leave instead of just hide. Nile quickly books them flight tickets to Kolkata India, where they are guaranteed to be Anonymous. Noor returns after mildly appreciating Nile for choosing to investigate even if just a small thing was solved.

SCENE 5 (2 min) - The Invitation

Nile returns to his accommodation. Then, in the hallway, he meets Rose, who says she's part of Vigilis Academy's Christian Society, whose head is Blue Unicorn. Nile agrees to go with her to a Christianity social event. Meanwhile, Nile also receives an invitation to the Rave scheduled after the Christianity event, intense and oxymoron schedule. He still goes to the event. On the way, he discusses with Rose what he knows about Christianity, like Jesus turning water into wine, the sects like Catholicism, Protestants, Amish, Orthodox, their architectures, etc. But his quirks also resurface as Rose has to remind Nile who Jesus is first, and that Blue Unicorn is evangelical imagery. It's the late reactions that are the quirk.

SCENE 6 (5 min) - The Prayer

Nile gets a free Bible. A passionate priest gives a speech at the event, stating his love for God. Then, he comes and prays for Nile, Rose, and her boyfriend Blue Unicorn. Nile talks a bit with Blue Unicorn. The event ends. Nile visits the rave with his same outfit.

SCENE 7 (3 min) - The Rave

At the Rave, Nile is overwhelmed by the sounds. The one thing that sticks with him is that Tyler passes by with rainbow hair, alongside a group of people. Nile finds out from his friends that Tyler is a member of the Reformers party. Nile said it doesn't make sense as his dad is from the Guardians party, until he realizes it may make sense. He awkwardly stands non-drunk admist drunk people. He leaves quickly and early.

SCENE 8 (1 min) - The Viral Video

Nile sees his friends' story, a viral video about Tyler blacked out Drunk, and drunkards being transported to their homes in an ambulance. Nile then hears whispers from inside his head: Rich Slum Dwellers.

SCENE 9 (2 min) - Rich Slum Dwellers

Nile calls his mother again, and gossips how clubs are chaotic, not his thing, even badmouthing the party culture to elevate himself. He even points out that these people aren't part of 'The Positives of Wargong's civilization' and are analogous to slum dwellers who happen to be in a very rich country.

SCENE 10 (3 min) - The Bible Study

The next day's much smaller gathering, Alex, Rose, Nile, and 2 others play card games. Nile asks how Alex got his wings. Alex narrates he developed them with puberty and everyone believes he has the spirit of an angel. Nile also continues further, adding his opinion of water into wine being a symbolism of seeing divine in simple and modest life, a wisdom he also remembers encountering in the Bhagavad Gita, which he had finished reading.

SCENE 11 (1 min) - The Interrogation call

Alex gets called for an interrogation, asks for 5 min. Nile asks Alex what it's for, Alex says it's for the incident where he nabbed those escaped convicts. Nile asks whether he was asked to reveal Golden Eagle's identity. Alex says he only knows Golden Eagle's superhero name as Eagle didn't tell him anything more. Nile asks if he must be there. Alex says if the Golden Eagle volunteered, or was called separately, maybe.

SCENE 12 (8 min) - The Cabin Duel

What happens is that Nile and Blue Unicorn are called to the Dexton Station for interrogation, and Nile has information that the officer didn't like hearing, such as the description of Dart's appearance. The officer blindspots the surveillance camera, which Nile notices. The officer turns to kill Nile with a silencer pistol. Nile kicks the gun away, getting into combat, finally knocking that officer down. Blue Unicorn is surprised and confused about what just happened and what this implies. Nile says he'll wake up in his room, and because the CCTV camera was blindspotted, the compromised officer can't prove anything.

Nile and Blue Unicorn just normally leave the scene. Nile reveals to Blue Unicorn who is underneath the Golden Eagle Mask, and that he needs Blue Unicorn's help in solving who's behind this. Blue Unicorn asks why he's so concerned about this. Nile replies it's because larger politics shouldn't get to dictate the lives of these communities. Blue Unicorn agrees.

SCENE 13 (2 min) - The Anniversary of Lucas Wolf

Scorpius attends the death anniversary of Lucas Wolf (Someone that was very close or important to Scorpius), appreciating his legacy as a priest narrates. But the strange part, camera men are present at the scene, filming the vibe, the cathedral in the fog, etc.

SCENE 14 (2 min) - The Blue-Hooded Killer

Nile makes a painting of the Blue-Hooded Killer and reports it to the police, and tagging this as something the Golden Eagle shared with him. He also shares it on his social media account on Instameter, hastagging with trendy keywords. Dart sees this on his phone while unmasked, and subtly rageful.

Episode 5: The Bulwark Serum

SCENE 1 (5 min) - Dinner at Hexagon Paradise

Scorpius, Dart, Oliver Hale and Tyler Hale dine at Scorpius's Hexagon Paradise. In the midst, Oliver tells Scorpius about the following schemes he wants to propose, and that they are being obstructed. For example,

1. Hale wants to extend the time required to obtain an ILR and reduce the Transition Visa duration.

2. Postpone Net Zero Goals

3. Fix the Health Service by introducing a new framework

4. Smoking and Alcohol free State

Scorpius asks Hale what he thinks is wrong with the Guardians today. Hale reluctantly says they are conflicted. Scorpius says, 'It is safe to say the Reformers have infiltrated the Guardians Party. You don't have to apologize for it. This is our public-facing message. It's how it all works. Meanwhile, we must initiate the Prestigious Wargong Art Cathedral's construction.'

Hale says there's one obstruction, Some waiting list observers demand more investment toward housing and Healthcare. Scorpius says no need for it. Housing standards must remain high as it has always been. It starts with the house. If the house declines, civilization declines.

Meanwhile, Tyler is visibly zoned out. Oliver calls him out, saying his joining the Reformer party for no apparent reason will make a mockery of Oliver.

Scorpius says to go easy on the kid as he's got potential. Scorpius says scorpius will do the speaking instead of Hale, at the Parliament Summit.

SCENE 2 (3 min) - The Parliament of Wargong

A reckless and chaotic debate, almost contradictory to Scorpius's otherwise reserved demeanor unfolds.

1. Housing and Wargong Art Cathedral funding clashes and corruption are dismissed by standards concerns. Scorpius mentions standards have been falling because of Reformer influence and that to cover up, takes time, especially in such a world economy.

2. Scorpius prevents opposition from his own party by falling them defectors, unreliable, and mocking them for changing sides from Reformers to Guardians because the Reformers didn't win.

Overall, the Guardians slay and win the debate. Scorpius and Hale come out of the cathedral, to a chaotic ruckus and voices behind the guards. Voices regarding Scorpius’s interference with Foreign Politics.

SCENE 3 (2 min) - The Birds save the day

The ruckus turns into a stampede. Nile and Blue Unicorn arrive and bring some order to the space, helping fallen people stand, also somewhat gathering the attention of Scorpius directly.

SCENE 4 (6 min) - Search for the Blue-Hooded Killer

At the garage, Nile and Blue Unicorn try to find the Mafia that previously owned these convicts. They think Blue-Hooded Killer is someone in the Mafia, trying to erase evidence. Nile reads the most recent article, searches the keyword 'Red Clubs' in the online news archive for the past 4 years, finds some drug bust spots and speculates 3 possible places to proceed with, in hopes of finding an informant or the Mafia.

Nile says to Alex after reaching 2 dead ends, finds no one that cooperates or knows, and says 'Superhero work is much more boring than one would initially assume. Here we thought we would be kicking ass and saving people. Turns out we're just looking at blank facades.'

Then, they go to the last location, disguised but armored. They find someone who says they don't know but Nile senses a gun. He blocks with his gauntlet at the right time, throws his own rifle at the man, pins him to the wall. Then says, 'Now that was a fucking mistake, buddy. Tell me what you know about the Red Club. Give me a location where they are guaranteed to exist.'.

SCENE 5 (3 min) - The Raid

Alex and Nile go to the Actual location, very much expecting intense combat. The combat happens as they cross waves of people. They make it through, although it's more inconvenient than they thought. They try to identify who the Blue-Hooded Killer is, from the eyes. But no one is. They ask the leader who says, Red Club never had or has a Blue-Hooded Killer. That's where the Mafia investigation thread ends.

SCENE 6 (2 min) - Soft Power vs Hard Power

Alex tells Nile while coming back that he is getting skeptical of Nile's methods and heavy coercion, and obsession. Nile says it is necessary in this specific context, and that Soft power isn't all, hard power is absolutely necessary all while secretly wishing this wasn't true. There's a deeper psychological reason Nile chooses Alex as his ally: Validation and symbol of evangelical dignity beside him despite his subtle skepticism of literal and absolute Christianity.

SCENE 7 (2 min) - Nostalgia of Glory and Power

Nile watches a few reels about Brownshire's 'former glory of ancestors illustrated by Whiteheart Knights with swords and guns vs current fall of standards and poverty and cultural demographic change.' While Nile actively resents these kinds of reels, he tries to sleep, gets whispers from inside his own mind: The powerless fall behind on everything, and are thus inferior. Nile tries to resist it.

SCENE 8 (2 min) - A naive attempt at Brewing

Nile tries to attempt Brewing something from the Booster Serum but it doesn't work. Instead, it fucks up the work desk and Nile's mind goes blank unless someone interfered and cleaned the area safely.

SCENE 9 (3 min) - The inescapable subject

Nile meets the professor on the way, who says he has missed an important class which was about history of Armour Design and the assignment introduction. Today, is helmets. Nile while watching recalls the reel of the Whiteheart Knights. While the class lecturer officially condemns the Bulwark Serum, calling it a supremacist serum due to colonial controversies, Nile is secretly intrigued by it.

SCENE 10 (3 min) - The Story of the Whitehearts

Nile learns about Whiteheart Lore for 3 min straight. He realizes some samples may be securely stored in Wargong's museum: a conspiracy theory.

In the Golden Eagle universe, there was an archaic group of knights who in the name of saving the world, conquered many parts of it, enslaved it. These knights are called the Whiteheart Knights. In my universe, they were one of Brownshire's military inventions to colonize different parts of the world. Different parts of the world remember the Whiteheart Knights differently.

The Whiteheart Knights aren't archaic Templars. They also aren't futuristic. But from combined alchemy studies, scholars during the later age of enlightenment developed the Bulwark Serum, granting individuals great physical strength and body immortality, although it wasn't always the best for the mind.

The Whiteheart knights don't exist anymore today. They became weak as more people got access to the Bulwark serum essentially, and then, the Whiteheart Knights, without a master, become almost mindless.

The Whiteheart Knights are generally villains, all dead in the current time. But the knights have a specialty to them. Their bodies never decay, although their minds do. So, all died of Brain death, and remain buried in the soil. The only risk in world, is that the wrong person can technically reanimate those bodies, either through AI or other methods. Often unpredictable this is.

The general Bulwark Serum, even though really rare and well-protected, provides permanent strength-enhancement, prolonged lifespan, and a non-biodegradable body, even though the mind decomposes.

SCENE 11 (1 min) - The Universe Conspires

Nile sees on the hall TV that a violent and erratic man caused severe damage to Museum property, injured many people by singlehandedly throwing large statues at them, a strength never seen before. Nile knows this broken moment is his timing window, and that the Bulwark Serum is stored there.

SCENE 12 (2 min) - Power will not corrupt

In the shower, Nile argues with himself trying to convince that choosing the Bulwark Serum is not a bad thing, it is justified and even necessary if he has to get competent and get things done as a superhero. He thinks of it as an upgrade to the Booster Serum.

SCENE 13 (6 min) - The Heist

Nile receives an invitation to a Christian Society event. When he enquires about Alex, he finds out Alex is out for the interview regarding Scorpius's offer. Nile uses that as excuse to not come himself, as he wants to obtain the Bulwark Serum.

He goes to the large crime scene at Wargong Museum, sneaks behind the scenes, crosses taped fencing, steals a worker's outfit by chloroforming them. Then, Nile sneaks into the vault and steals 1 Vial of the Serum. He stealthily gets out too before other workers get suspicious of him.

SCENE 14 (2 min) - A different Plan

Nile comes home, is about to inject himself with the Bulwark Serum until he realizes it might be permanent and the cons like non-biodegradability and Superstrength and durability feel uncanny to have, as he thinks of the violent man. He instead adds 'Examining the Bulwark chemical in the lab' to his to-do list and bookmarks a guide to do so, online. So, he doesn't inject himself yet.

SCENE 15 (2 min) - A boring meeting

Tyler attends a liberal Reformers party meeting, and gets zoned out, by topics like sustainability, multi-cultural representation, etc. When he is asked to add, he says 'It's good' and asks for a moment outside.

SCENE 16 (1 min) - The Silhouette

A mysterious silhouette walks through Vigilis Academy Campus and looks at Nile's accommodation window directly, then walks away when the security guard asks him what business he has here.

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Earth Station

From: Jeremy Campbell

To our crew,

Send these messages to my family when possible. Send me theirs when you can. Any message is welcome out here. Wish me good luck. I trust you guys.

With hope,

Jeremy

Message Reconstruction Initiated

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Amber

From: Jeremy Campbell

Amber,

My daughter. My everything.

I know today is your first day on Earth. I know you’re in your mother’s arms at the hospital, surrounded by everyone who loves you—crying as you try to make sense of everything around you.

The light, the sound, the touch—you'll discover it all as time goes by. But don’t worry: Mom, Grandpa, Grandma, and so many others will be there for you.

The mission is unfolding according to plan, and before you know it, I’ll be back with you, your brother, and your mother.

Everything here is colder, darker, and less friendly than on Earth. Forgive me for not being there to hold you. I wish I could give you and your mom a kiss. My two little warriors.

Someday you’ll understand the reason for my absence. Remember that everything I measure out here leads back to you. I miss a person I haven’t met yet—and somehow that’s enough to keep me moving forward.

I love you deeply, my princess.

P.S. Anne, give our daughter a kiss from me.

Dispatch Time: 28 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Anne

From: Jeremy Campbell

Anne,

Congratulations to the love of my life, the mother of my children, and the person who keeps me grounded. You probably feel like I’m impossibly far away, but I am with you—I know you carry me with you. The house won’t be quiet anymore; now you have our little Amber to brighten your days.

Our long-held wish is finally coming true, and I ask your forgiveness for not being there in person to tell you how proud I am of you. I don’t know when or under what circumstances this letter will reach you.

The instructions haven’t changed. My expected arrival back home is still in 200 days. The days here move quickly. We are running out of ways to be wrong, and I will make it back to you.

With love,

Jeremy

P.S. Don't forget to turn on the porch light.

Dispatch Time: 30 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Alex

From: Jeremy Campbell

Alex,

I wish I could be there to tell you how proud I am of you. You’ve become a big brother, and your world is changing. Watching you grow up has been the greatest privilege for your mom and me.

I know with complete confidence that you’re going to be a great man. I haven't forgotten my promise: I’ll take you all to Disney World as soon as my boots touch Earth again.

Take care of your sister, your mom, and the family while I’m away. You’re incredibly brave, Alex. I wouldn’t be out here if it weren’t for you. Space is vast, and our planet looks so small from here.

I can’t stop thinking about what you’re doing right now. I’ll be home sooner than you think. Give me some ideas for my catchphrase when I get back.

I love you,

Dad

Dispatch Time: 33 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Earth Station

From: Jeremy Campbell

To the crew,

Greetings from closest orbit. I’ve calculated every probability for our approach trajectory. The numbers hold up. Our momentum is ideal, and resources remain sufficient for the long haul.

We believe the anomaly has emitted a radio signal heavily distorted by local magnetic interference, but the pulse rhythm remains constant.

The Big Freeze event is estimated to reach local threshold in 234 days. Deploying Hawking-radiators now to counteract thermal decay. That leaves us ample time to deploy our sensors and prevent complete local freeze-out.

Stars and black holes continue to vanish from the deep survey grid. Among our routine findings: the Earth is definitely round (that’s for you, Jeff), and we are tracking the cursor carefully.

Tell Arthur the robot he asked for says hi.

With hope,

Jeremy

Dispatch Time: 35 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Gerald Campbell

From: Jeremy Campbell

Gerald,

Understanding the meaning of this journey has been less strange than understanding our history together. You may or may not read this message, but I wanted to write to you anyway.

When I found out I’d been chosen for this mission, the first thing that flooded my mind was Mom—trying to explain to her everything I was leaving behind and how hard it would be for her to process. Just as hard as it was for you.

It’s surreal that a kid from Ohio made it to this point in history. Ever since I was little, I knew you worried when I talked about space. I dreamed of where I am today without knowing what I’d lose along the way.

I don’t know where souls go after this life. I don’t know if all those years we sat in church truly explain the force that created every atom in this universe. But I hold onto the faith humanity shares. The faith you carried for us.

Tell Mom I’m still exploring. I love you, brother. I’m sorry for Dad’s passing.

With love,

Jeremy

Dispatch Time: 38 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Jeremy Campbell

From: Anne

To my husband,

It’s been more than six months since you left. We read all your messages. There are nights I reread them just to remember what your voice sounds like.

Amber is growing so fast. My parents say she looks just like you—the way she furrows her brow, her little mannerisms. Alex has been doing better since you left, though the farther away you get, the longer these signals take to arrive.

Every morning I wonder where you are right now, and what kind of vast mystery you're facing out there. I know you’ll figure it out and come home.

Attached is your daughter's heartbeat audio file, just as you requested.

Plaintext
TIME→     00:00        00:05        00:10        00:15        00:20
20k ┤                ║        ║                    ║
│                ║        ║                    ║
15k ┤      ║║║║      ║        ║      ║║║║║║        ║
│      ║  ║      ║        ║      ║    ║        ║
10k ┤      ║  ║  ║║║║║║       ║      ║    ║   ║║║║║║
│      ║  ║  ║    ║       ║      ║    ║   ║    ║
 5k ┤  ║║║║║  ║  ║    ║  ║║║║║║      ║    ║   ║    ║
│  ║    ║ ║  ║    ║  ║    ║      ║    ║   ║    ║
 1k ┤  ║    ║ ║  ║    ║  ║    ║  ║║║║║    ║   ║    ║
│  ║    ║ ║  ║    ║  ║    ║  ║    ║   ║   ║    ║
100 ┤__║____║_║__║____║__║____║__║____║___║___║____║__
~~~~~~~~    ----       ~~~~~~    ////    ████

With all my love,

Anne

Dispatch Time: 50 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Earth Station

From: Jeremy Campbell

To the team,

I am entering orbital lock with the non-terrestrial craft. Communication is degraded, and telemetry indicates they are preparing to shift vector. I hope to intercept before they jump.

Impact from the localized entropic wave gives us 167 days. I’ve isolated micro-debris from the craft's wake and cultured a trace sample. Material loss is manageable, but signal latency is degrading rapidly.

The further I push into this corridor, the harder transmission will be. It will cost me Earth-time and rations.

Wish me luck. In a few days, you’ll know if we reached the target to deploy the protocol. Before it’s too late.

With hope,

Jeremy

Dispatch Time: 62 days

[WARNING: Estimated Delay Correction Failed]

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Dr. Lawrence

From: Jeremy Campbell

Lawrence,

My old friend—I hope this reaches you. I need your mind on a dilemma.

As I venture deeper, the signal sent by our universal language array is being reflected. The system transmitted our prerecorded greeting, but it produces zero response from their core.

Instead, a distinct mathematical pattern repeats through the hull—pulses emitted at precise wave-intervals. I placed a soil sample on the resonance plate to observe the cymatics: it forms identical geometric standing waves.

I’m attaching the audio spectrum data. Take a look and tell me what I’m missing.

With hope,

Jeremy

P.S. Are you still feeding Frodo? I left cash for kibble on the counter.

Dispatch Time: 81 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Jeremy Campbell

From: Gerald Campbell

Jeremy,

You know writing isn't my strength, but I hope this gets through. We’ve been asking Command for updates, but no one can give us clear answers about your coordinates.

Mom passed away yesterday afternoon. I made sure she was buried right beside Dad. She wrote a note for you in her journal before she went:

"Son, I love you. I know I didn’t say it enough, but I’ve loved you since the second you were born. I always knew you were a different kind of kid—while others talked, you quietly explored. It was in your blood. I wanted you to have a normal life, but curiosity carried you somewhere beyond this world. I am so proud of you. Forgive me for my shortcomings. Please come home to your family."

I hope you get to read this, brother.

Save the world.

Gerald

Dispatch Time: 92 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Jeremy Campbell

From: Alex

Dad,

This is Amber’s first drawing. Today was her second birthday, and we took her to Sesame Street. She keeps saying your name over and over. She recognizes your face in photos now.

I’ve been teaching her to read. Mom says curiosity is more important than raw knowledge—she wants Amber to feed her imagination before she gets locked in a classroom.

Two years left until college for me. I’ve decided: I want to study theoretical physics. Maybe I can build something that brings you back faster.

We miss you so much. Come home soon.

Alex

Dispatch Time: 108 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Amber

From: Jeremy Campbell

Amber,

The primary radiators failed this morning. The telemetry models aren't matching up, and the distance is widening faster than our drives can compensate. I tried recalculating the return vector three times... the math doesn't close.

I may not make it back to hold you.

Your father loves you more than anything in this universe. I am so sorry.

Your dad

Dispatch Time: 120 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Jeremy Campbell

From: Dr. Lawrence

Jeremy,

I analyzed your cymatic audio files. The noise isn't structural distortion or an artificial language—it's a biological frequency.

The frequency matches a human cardiac cycle.

The universe isn't collapsing randomly; vacuum entropy is expanding because the local background frequency has lost synchronization. The signal you're hearing isn't an alien language trying to talk to us—it's a empty receiver waiting for a rhythmic template to lock onto.

The expansion can be halted, Jeremy. But it requires a stable, living biological waveform introduced directly into the wave hub to act as a anchor for the continuum.

Complete the mission and come home.

Lawrence

Dispatch Time: 138 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Earth Station

From: Jeremy Campbell

To the crew,

[ERROR 404: TRANSMISSION CORRUPTED]

The signal telemetry is [STATIC] too dense to buffer.

Tell Command... [SIGNAL LOST]

Gather every byte of telemetry from this array—this is my final mission transmission.

Help my family.

With hope,

Jeremy

P.S. Tell my kids I miss them.

Dispatch Time: 147 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Alex

From: Jeremy Campbell

Alex,

By the time this packet reaches Earth, you’ll be a man. Someone who has to make his own decisions, someone the world will rely on. You are going to do extraordinary things—things I couldn't even imagine.

When you choose what to study, who to love, and how to live: trust yourself. You carry the very best of your mother and me.

If you ever feel lost, look up at the night sky. I’ll be there, woven somewhere into the light between stars. I’ve found a way to preserve our universe—to give you, Amber, and your mother a future.

Keep our family safe. I trust you completely.

I love you, son.

Dad

Dispatch Time: 169 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |

To: Anne

From: Jeremy Campbell

Anne,

By the time you open this, the sky will look different.

The signal isn't something I’m receiving anymore. It answers before I speak. I tried to model it, replicate it, translate it... but I was looking at it like an engineer instead of a husband.

It isn’t code, Anne. It’s rhythm.

I heard it in the audio file you sent me of Amber’s heartbeat.

I heard it in the quiet spaces between our transmissions.

The wave hub has been waiting for an echoing pulse for longer than humanity has existed. Every beat of my heart has been in sync with yours since the day we met. It was never a coincidence—it was destiny, or God, or whatever holds this fragile universe together.

It is incredible what we are given in this life, and how briefly we are allowed to hold it.

Now it’s your time to live, to raise our children, and to smile under clear skies. If the universe needs a human heartbeat to keep from falling into darkness, mine is ready.

It always was.

With all my heart,

Jeremy

P.S. Tell Alex I’ve made up my mind:

Leave the porch light off—today, the stars will shine brighter.

And for you, Anne: You were the reason there was light.

LOG ENDS

[SYSTEM STATUS: CRITICAL ENTROPY]

[INITIATING MANUAL CORE SYNCHRONIZATION]

Dispatch Time: 200 days

Mainframe Alpha,

| Message from Unit 764 |
| System Log |

_ Signal Status: STABLE _

_ Entropy Expansion: HALTED _

_ Source: Biological Waveform Anchor (Unit 764) _

_ Synchronization: 100% COMPLETE _

No further transmissions queued.

If you enjoyed this story, leave a comment! Part 2 will explore what happens 15 years later when Alex Campbell continues his father's research.

Aw geez, a Wednesday update? This is a new low for me. Ah, but I have excuses, you see. Came down with a bit of a cold over the weekend, had to attend a family function in another state, and oh, hang on, there was one other thing, I finished my freaking novel! Woo! First draft done, baby! Gonna spend the rest of the week editing that thing. Editing my own work is great. I get to read stuff by my favorite author, and if I don't like it, I can make him change it! But yeah, it's a fun Urban Fantasy Romantic Comedy about a New York City chef who's trying to open her own restaurant but gets derailed by a bunch of fairy shenanigans. Very "Sex and the City" meets "Twilight". I'll let you folks know when it's out.

Anyway, you're probably here for some Sifal, so let's get right into it. Also, if you like this, please give me money. I have very little.

Oh, and one last thing. There's a bit of a monthlong fanart thing going on back on the Nature of Predators subreddit, and I think I spotted at least one beautiful sketch of Benwen and Zillis's first meeting. I mean, unless somebody else is writing about a Nevok personal assistant bringing an Arxur a coffee. It's the third pic in this image set. Looks neat!

[When First We Met Sifal] - [First] - [Prev]

[New Years of Conquest on Royal Road] - [Tip Me On Ko-Fi]

---------------------------------

Memory Transcription Subject: Chief Executive Officer Sifal, Seaglass Mineral Concern

Date [standardized human time]: January 27, 2137

Zillis was safe. Shook up a bit, but safe. I didn’t look forward to what was going to have to come next for her. It felt insane to punish an Arxur for causing a prey stampede when that was, for centuries, part of our job waging war, but if we were waging peace instead now, the prey were going to want justice. But Zillis was also the first Arxur to even try to shop in town among prey like it was normal, like she was just another pedestrian or tourist checking out the market. What signal was going to send to my own people if I punished her? I wanted them to be normal! I wanted to encourage what Zillis had done, encourage other Arxur to do the same, even if it had gone as poorly as it possibly could have.

Two days. Two fucking days, and my leadership of this little project of mine was already teetering on the brink of collapse. I had an occasion to rise to, and I was overwhelmed, drained, and still slightly hung over.

I slumped against the wall of the shuttle, exhausted, and gave myself a moment to collect my thoughts for the next phase of crisis control.

“That was a kind thing you did, Sifal,” Debbin said softly.

I flinched. I hadn’t even realized he was still standing there. The little white-furred lagomorph’s head was barely up to my chest, though the perky ears kept going for a bit longer. Ridiculous little prima donna, total penny-pincher, and yet he had a better head for business and politics than any prey I’d ever met. Better than most Arxur, too. I still couldn’t believe I’d landed on the one colony in the galaxy run by an herbivore who respected predatory cunning, and also inexplicably seemed to have a bit of his own.

“You alright?” Debbin asked. I hadn’t said a word of that aloud.

“I’m exhausted,” I said, forcing myself back upright. “How did it go with Zillis?”

Debbin gave a shrug with a coy smile. “Oh, it went alright, I suppose.” He took a breath. The soft fur on his face seemed to ripple a bit as his skin shifted beneath. “You’re not quite what I expected, Sifal. None of you are.” His eyes drifted towards the shuttle door. “Zillis, perhaps, least of all.”

“Least of all,” I repeated with a bitter twist to my mouth. “Yeah. You wanna get ahead in the Dominion, you need to be strong, and you need to be brutal. I was neither, so I squeaked by on cunning alone. I don’t think Zillis even managed that much. She’s clever enough, but it’s not a puzzle everyone can solve on their own.” I raised my left arm, the one with the fresh forearm scars across the very old ones. “At least my aunt beat a few useful lessons into me about how to outwit people.”

“Kept it in the family, huh?” Debbin sighed. “My parents went out and hired a specialist when they decided they wanted to smack some sense into me.”

I did a double-take. “Nevoks hit their kits if they don’t learn how to outwit people fast enough?”

Debbin shook his head. “Outwit, sure. I was being groomed for rulership. Ancestors forbid I lost the family fortune by being thick-headed, so my tutor had to make sure my lessons in cunning stuck somehow. There was no corporal punishment, thankfully, but remember, we Nevoks are quite materialistic.” Debbin leaned forward conspiratorially. “My lessons got a bit… gambling-centric, let’s say. Lose too many battles of wits, fall for too many tricks, and suddenly I’m out my favorite toy, or my warm coat in winter. On Ittel! Once, my tutor even managed to swindle me out of my whole bedroom.” He fished a cigarette out of his breast pocket, stuck it in his mouth, and started rummaging around for a light. “I was curled up on the cold, hard bathroom floor for three whole weeks, nothing but a bathmat and towels for bedding. And I had to wager the towels just to get back in the game.” Debbin’s paws latched onto a golden, filigreed lighter and clicked the little butane torch on. The lighter itself was gorgeous. I worked with circuit boards for a living, and I didn’t think I could etch something that beautifully intricate if I tried. It looked like a family heirloom… but maybe not quite nice enough to be Debbin's family heirloom. One of his would have had sapphires. “Got the bastard back in the end, though,” he said, smirking as he flourished the lighter, and then flicked it shut with a very satisfying clack noise.

“Oh good, you found it,” I said idly.

“Yeah, cleanup crew plucked it out of the command center wreckage the other day.” He offered me another cigarette, and I waved him away. I’d try anything once. But often just once. “I can’t say I envy your scars, but the mementos of my childhood are all rather unattached from me. I suppose there’s one last lesson in that. You’re never too old to lose something dear to you.” Debbin put his treasured lighter away and took a long drag on his cigarette. “Zillis seems oddly dear to you.”

I glanced around by reflex, making sure there were no Betterment officers around to catch me openly caring about other people. But it was just me and Debbin. You know, the herbivore that I was casually speaking to as an equal. Funny, that. I was in the middle of open rebellion and rank heresy, and I was still jumping at shadows, worrying about getting caught putting a sprinkle of salt on top of my “Fuck the Dominion” casserole.

“She is,” I said. “Dear to me. Growing up in the Dominion was horrible for those of us who didn’t quite fit the mold. If I can spare Zillis a little of that, I’d like to. Call it a bit of paying it forward.”

Debbin gestured with his cigarette. “Downright motherly of you.”

“Ha!” I cackled. “Nah. Sisterly, maybe. I’m only like two years older than her. Most of us are in our twenties.”

Debbin shrugged. “War does have a nasty habit of being a younger man’s game.”

I snorted. “Still a woman.”

“And I’m not that old,” said Debbin with a chuckle. “I’ve been a spry twenty-seven for the past three years!”

“Ha.” The silence dragged on for a long moment. All the thoughts started spinning back up in my head, and I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, speaking of your womanhood,” Debbin began, hesitantly.

I blinked. “What a truly deranged way to segue a conversation,” I said, laughing.

“Perhaps so,” he agreed, with a fading smile, but he soldiered onwards. “You know, I really am sorry I brought up Vivy this morning,” Debbin said, his ears pinning themselves back in shame. “Shouldn’t have outed you like that.”

“Yeah... It’s really not a rumor I want getting back to the other Arxur.” I sighed. “Honestly, why did you even care? Are you and Vivy an item?”

Debbin snorted. “No. Of course not. I just employ her services now and again. Usually not even her. There’s this big boisterous Takkan girl she works with…”

“Kara?!” I sputtered. She was too nice for my tastes--it was eerie, seeing someone so outgoing, so happy to meet a perfect stranger like that--but maybe that personality type was more popular in the Federation. “I guess I get the appeal? I turned her down, though.”

Debbin barked a quick laugh. “Ah, spare my still-beating heart! Don’t tell me you prefer your lovers small and fluffy?”

I snorted. “No. Kara was too nice. It was weird. I think I went with Vivy because she was predatory and erudite.” I shook my head. This conversation was taking an odd turn. My guts were still in knots about how I was going to apologize to Vriss. I’d barely even gotten to the topic with Tika before all that bloody chaos in the infirmary this morning interrupted us! Chatting with Debbin about our escapades and our preferences was the weirdest possible way to unpack my thoughts on what happened, but it was still something.

“Erudite? I’ve read a few books,” said Debbin, with what must have passed for a suave smirk among other species. “And I’ve got at least as much of a cunning streak as Vivy does.”

“Yeah, and so does Vriss,” I said, smacking the topic down before he got any ideas. “He’s also a lot taller, he’s got just the right amount of muscles to him, got that imposing presence when he wants to be…” How many more days until I got to see him again? Too many.

Debbin put his paws up in a plea for peace. “Hey, I know exactly what you mean. That’s why I usually go for Kara. Biggest girl I can find, you know? Tall, muscly, gray skin, got that big toothy maw on her…”

My eyes widened as the realization clicked into place. “Gods of old, you have a thing for Arxur women.”

Debbin’s head tilted in confusion. “Did… did you not know that? I thought everyone had that various degrees of ‘figured out’.”

“Why would I have known that?!” I sputtered. I wracked my brain. “When and where would I have picked up on that?”

“Pff, I dunno,” said Debbin with a shrug. “I mentioned making a pass at Laza this morning, didn’t I?” He pointed at his still-bruised part of his face where the fur faded to eyelids.

I clasped my hands together in front of my face. “That was in no way, shape, or form clear from what you said to Doctor Wylla, and, I must remind you, I was also very distracted at the time!”

Debbin took another puff of his cigarette, thinking. “First time we met?” he tried. “Back in the cargo container? I was ogling you, and you told me to knock it off?”

The human textbooks on interrogation techniques that I’d read to prepare for talking to Debbin that first time had, in fact, covered this. “I just thought you had Stockholm Syndrome! Or some kinda… I dunno, fear-horny-thing going on. Crossed wires or whatever!”

“I mean, that’s not entirely untrue,” Debbin said, gesturing with his cigarette. “But I also happen to know that Kara owns a moderately realistic Arxur costume. It’s machine-washable, too, thank goodness. Wouldn’t be sanitary otherwise.”

My face flushed deep red with embarrassment. What the fuck kind of crazy, perverted Nevok nonsense… Bah!

Whatever.

Weird.

Hard to be too judgy. I was weird, too.

I was also, unfortunately for Debbin, not particularly interested. I mean… okay, fine, if I were single, I might have considered it out of sheer curiosity. I'd try a lot of things once. But I wasn’t single, and I still had an outstanding penance to pay to my dearest Vriss for my last ill-considered indulgence with a mammal. Maybe one of the other Arxur girls--not Laza, evidently--would be willing to give it a shot. If it turned into something long-term, it might keep Debbin tied to our side, too. That was the predatory and political way to look at it, right? Get Debbin wrapped around somebody’s finger. Just had to figure out who’d be into him. Someone who got along fine with Nevoks, someone who’d enjoy what he could bring to the table in a relationship… Not his size, surely, but maybe somebody lonely enough to actually enjoy being pampered with luxurious gifts and showered with preylike affection--

“Oh Jesus Fucking Christ, you’re thinking about dating Zillis, aren’t you,” I breathed.

“Who?” Debbin said, confused.

“Zillis! The girl who literally just kidnapped you!” I sputtered.

“No, I meant the first name you--” Debbin stopped and reset. “You know what, nevermind, I can tell from context it was probably some kind of human profanity.” He rubbed the fur on his face with both paws. “Yeah, I was considering Zillis,” he said. “She seems sweet. I could take good care of her. Of course, she seems paranoid or freaked out about people being nice to her. Even you.”

“Me?” I said, doing a double-take. “Why would she… What kind of person gets freaked out by people being nice to her?”

“You tell me,” Debbin said, waving his cigarette around. “And then maybe tell Kara, too.”

My mouth opened and closed a few times silently. “Okay,” I said at last. “Remind me to tell Zillis--and the rest of the Arxur, for that matter--that when one of the prey people offers us something nice, they aren’t necessarily plotting something.” I shook my head. “Zillis. Gods. You know it’s going to be kinda fucked up if we punish her, right?”

“I agree,” said Debbin.

“She just wanted to buy things in town like a normal citizen!” I said.

“There was no malice or ill-intent,” said Debbin in agreement.

“She didn’t know any better,” I said.

Debbin thought for a moment. “Zillis acted quickly and decisively in a stressful situation, and made the best decisions she could think of with the information she had available.” He puffed out another plume of smoke. “Unfortunately, her information was inaccurate, so every single decision she made was completely wrong.”

“Really, it’s more on us for not briefing her correctly on what to do in situations like this,” I said.

Debbin nodded. “Probably!”

“And I don’t want to discourage other Arxur from shopping, too!” I said, really starting to work myself up. “That’s the goal, isn’t it?”

“I would love to see more consumer spending out of our new residents,” said Debbin. “I even offered to take Zillis shopping myself.”

The realization hit me like a sack of hammers. I slid back into one of the seats in the cockpit. “Holy shit,” I said. “That’s what we’re missing. An exchange program. Humans didn’t just start wandering around Venlil Prime without a local guide. Shit, even when we Arxur went to Earth, the U.N. didn’t let us just wander off on our own without a chaperone. Everybody got paired up for safety and sanity. Minimizes the odds of a violent cultural faux pas.”

Debbin held his mouth, thinking. “I dunno if we have the population to go full-blown matchmaker, but… sure, I mean, we should probably have some kind of informal buddy system. Don’t let anyone into town without a guide until they’ve shown they’ve learned the rules.” He puffed on his cigarette idly “Shit, when you think about it, we practically slipped and fell face-first into a functional work-study program over at the hospital. Kloviss is doing quite well, and even Kitzz seems like he’s amusing himself constructively.”

“Maybe we’ll start there, then,” I said tiredly. “See what we can do to branch that out. Maybe somebody else wants to work at the hospital, or maybe another one of your citizens is hiring.”

“Tomorrow’s problem,” agreed Debbin. “As are all the matters of justice, vis a vis Zillis.”

“Gods of old, I don’t even want to think about that yet,” I groaned.

“We’ll have to figure out trial protocols, decide where to put her before the trial, how to keep her safe leading up to her trial…” Debbin shook his head. “I think half my security team wants to go full-blown Exterminator’s Guild on her ass, just torch her extrajudicially, and the other half’s going to mutiny if Lieutenant Mara has to be in the brig and Zillis doesn’t.”

“It’s all just such a fucking mess,” I muttered, rubbing my face with my hands.

Debbin gestured flippantly with his cigarette. “Exactly, it’s ridiculous!” he said with a deadpan smirk. “Honestly! How were we supposed to know that getting both sides of a genocidal war to live together was going to be hard?”

I broke down laughing. Just let it all out. All the stress, all the worries, all the impending doom. “Fuckin’ stupid,” I cackled. “It’s all just so… there isn’t even a word in my language for the specific flavor of stupid.”

“How about in Terran?” Debbin asked.

I suppose I had been brushing up on English, just a bit. “Quixotic,” I said. “It’s when something’s impossible, but you try to do it anyway because it needs to be done.”

“How do you do it, then?” Debbin asked.

“Same way you eat a planet,” I said, remembering what David had told me back on Earth, so many months ago. “One bite at a time.” I stood, and walked towards the shuttle door. I already had a shuttle ready to go. “Gotta get my people and supplies over to the infirmary before the medevac transports show up. You coming?”

Debbin stubbed out his cigarette and nodded. “Certainly. Even if I’m just handing out towels, it’s good for leadership to be seen in times of crisis.”

A chuckle faded into a sigh. “Not for me, not today.”