Eyes parted.

Her breaths were fast, almost panting—as if she’d sprinted a bunch—body jerking with the crystal casket as a little yelp leaked from her throat… leaving only a whimper greeting her quiet, solemn surroundings. Purple streamed in from her two portholes.

She couldn’t run with this submarine shell, not with her feet lodged so deep in its kyanite pockets, but they were hot, and her chest pounded so furiously with a dull pulse, which was rather unlike the heartbeats she’d felt just prior to her awakening.

The time I was rushing for Granny… still clear. It was… it really happened, I think? The nice, bright wheat fields, the silver horse and its riding Goddess… the stars and the dark blue sky… She blinked. I saw her too… Older Sister, with that clean, slim-looking man; yeah, her name’s Ernestine… And him.

Her face grew hard, lips pursed. I was helpless… but I also tried having some fun back then but… But this doesn’t make sense. It all seems wrong. How did I get here from there? I… I should’ve married someone, right? I didn’t see a marriage here; they only talked about it.

Her gaze fell.

 

***

 

At some point, Clarice sat at the only chair beside Trenton.

“It’s almost the morn, isn’t it?” she asked.

The surgeon kept writing, not turning an eye to her. “Quite.”

“Then I suppose I’m parting with everyone soon. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Trenton.”

He gave a nod. “You’re welcome.” He then rested his feathered pen, facing her. “So, what’s your plan from here, Ms. Clarice?”

“Well, I’ll just go back to the camp and reunite with Ted—”

“Not that.” He waved a hand, then lowered his tone. “You guys are one of those displaced being ferried to the Nave, yes?”

“Oh… yes.” Her gaze fell, hands balling on her thighs. “Our homestead’s gone,” she whispered. “We have to find work at the Nave and get by, somehow.”

“What of your parents? Are they hale?”

She shook her head.

His eyes widened ever so slightly, the backs of his hands supporting his forehead as it hung over the desk. He squeezed his eyes shut. Shit. It happens again. He exhaled deeply. “The Navy could have more hands. No, never mind. You’re too young; you want quiet lives, both of you.”

“…Yes. It’d be good for Ted to go to school.”

“You too.” He then shook his head, straightening his posture. “But it’s hard to get scholarships, especially way out here.”

“Mn…”

“Tell you what, I can write a letter of recommendation. If not the Navy, then to Saint Virgin Institute. They tend to seek those who can keep confidence; the trustworthy ones. You’re no bad folk.” At least I wouldn’t say so… “I’m sure they’d appreciate your service, however much you may offer.”

“You can’t say that so soon, Mr. Trenton.” Clarice gave a pained smile. “You’ve only just met me today.”

“…Well, it shall be sent. You decide whether you’ll make your way to them and accept my offer.”

“Okay.” A pause, then a small smile as her tone grew to normal level. “Thank you again, Mr. Trenton.”

“Perhaps I’ll pay a visit to the camp,” his tone too reverted to normal, “see what Ted’s made of.”

She beamed brightly. “A bundle of energy and curiosity!”

“Hah, good enough.”

A blank paper was then produced.

As he placed it before him, the doctor realized it needed to both introduce Clarice and recommend her. As soon as he started scribbling, the girl eyed over curiously.

Meanwhile…

We’d sent them to Hell. Despina was now seated opposite to Pandora on bed, eyes low on the floor. And what Mr. Trenton said wasn’t wrong; what Madeline said about self-defense wasn’t wrong either… So why does this feel so wrong? Henry betrayed me, and those cultists…

She remembered how that woman thanked Trenton mockingly, then rushed towards them. They’d throw me to the Deep, down in those dark waters, for their ridiculous religion… Mr. Trenton mentioned that we Marionettes are the property of the Navy… that we have a responsibility. That sensation of her hair slashing through a cultist, while Madeline crushed four others, flitted through her mind. To do what, kill? Why does God want me to keep doing something so horrible? Why can’t we just jail them instead?

Behind her…

Pandora took in Kestrel Lab in all its entirety as activity died down. Half of her fellow Marionettes were asleep while the other half, including her, fell quiet.

To think they can just fall asleep after so much has happened… She ended up staring at the nondescript wall beside the seated Proteus. That wasn’t quite a ‘battle,’ was it? They were so simple to dispatch. We’re no longer humans, that much is true… but to this degree? Should I be testing how much this body can do when I can elsewhere? But honestly…

I have to remember. Proteus warmed me but isn’t the past too important to ignore? I am… was? Supposed to be from a noble family, which means I have to be of some importance. Someone should be spending resources searching for me, perhaps they’d even prepared and sent a search party, meaning it is only a matter of time until they’d save me from this cave. She pursed her lips, eyeing the black iron door to Proteus’ left. It might’ve been too early to help against the cultists, but I do not think I’ll face the brunt of the consequences.

But… Her gaze trailed away from said door. How do relationships from the past even work? Am I allowed to meet my family or are there restrictions?

Is this even acceptable in their presence…? She glanced down at her body and its crystal growths. My past self was impressive in her own way; earning not only the right to Venus Class but also the Saturn Class, the latter seeming to be more prestigious. Both share blonde hair, too… Saturn might’ve been given to higher-ranked nobles by default, but maybe they saw more merit in my capabilities. Maybe I wanted this due to my old body’s limitations? But now they gave me extra crystals, to the point using some as ammunition is no issue but… isn’t the listed weight far too high? Am I fat? Is this considered overweight for Marionettes…? Is there something all this allows my body to do? She shifted a bit as brows were knit into a frown, staring at the crystal growth on her left forearm before comparing with her stomach. I don’t look fat; must be someone else’s fault, probably the crystals being too heavy. She shook her head. At least Madeline’s heavier than me, so I probably still have a Lady’s body—they had to have known what they were doing.

She exhaled. I don’t remember reading things… Am I supposed to speak in a nobler, prim and proper form? Prim… that is a word I think I just remembered. This’ll be important when I return, but how do I relearn…? Maybe there are reading materials out there that aren’t classified to sharpen my words to try and be closer to my old self. Was I supposed to be smarter too? Maybe not as hasty, but my actions felt more… guided than the others who just awoke like me.

Between the two, now laid back down on bed…

They can’t sacrifice me anymore… I’m safe. Ixion’s gaze stabbed at the purple-glazed ceiling. Despina took off the one blanket, draped it over the gray-haired girl and got up at some point, leaving her to receive its comfort alone. I helped Mr. Trenton, and everyone’s alright now, but… Polaris—should I be going back? How did I respond to Guinevere, back in that classroom? She was so pretty… Proteus is so cool too! Can I be as cool and pretty as them?

Her features then hardened. Older Brother… I don’t know where you are now, or Anton, but… I think I want to find you two.

On the other hand…

Madeline nibbled on the remainders of her rations that had first been kept between her tendrils but were later kept behind the portholes once she’d learned how opening and closing them worked from Trenton. Though I still need a bit of practice with these windows…

Then, once she finished munching…

Yeah I need to learn about my past. I was so excited when I was getting married… so why was it so miserable leading up to it? Misery stupid Granny encouraged… Then there’s the fact I’m here now. Before, I could accept things just turned out the way they did; I wasn’t confused. but now…

She blinked. “What’s supposed to happen after you get married?” Just how far am I from home?

Then, back at the table beside Clarice…

Trenton tapped a finger against the wooden table, idly eyeing a crack on its left corner. Who did this?

He supported his head on his temple with a balled fist, lips crimped. We may have won here, but the Seasuckers had a whole pack of half-Horrors to spare… if one could even call them that. They weren’t quite Marionettes but they weren’t quite human, either. What’ve they been doing while I had been cooped up with my projects here? Thought they only had one Marionette—the Acolyte.

He glanced over the notes from their battle… A massacre, rather. Regardless, I must report my findings to Master Adams, sooner or later. Ixion’s unstable, but her aim was good enough, partly why she was chosen; Atalanta’s gone from instability, but she sounded more… sophisticated, despite her less than ideal circumstance; Despina’s mind is clearly unwell, even with the presence of a Neptunian sibling, but that one is for Master Adams to worry about; while Pandora is… a bit of a mystery, but it appears she wishes to be away from our woes—understandable, I too wish to rid myself of this blasted hellhole, to be frank, but without the ferry nor the permit… And Madeline’s a bloody unknown. No way the Nave would let her be without due investigation, including both her body and background, which, out in the Kuiper Ocean here… could take months if her memories don’t turn up. Memories… Slumber may be our one saving grace here.

He exhaled. And on top of all this, who, I pray have returned to the tourist camp. They were probably sheltered until the recent skirmish against the Aquitanians have ruffled all kinds of feathers. Without her parents and with that homestead upbringing, bureaucracy will utterly blemish her future. She needs to take my offer, get some kind of backing from Saint Virgin Institute… Not letting this happen again damn it.

His other fist balled over the table.

How many of them will we revive into Marionettes out of sheer pity…?

Beside him…

When will it be morn? Is Ted okay…? What’ll I do if I can’t find him back at the camp? What’ll I do if he’s really gone…? Her vision swam, the sight of the surgeon and his table warping as her pupils grew glassy. Maybe I’ll just walk into the black waters then, maybe I’ll just let those cultists sacrifice me, and join him on the Hereafter. What good am I, otherwise? Her gaze fell… I kind of envy Pandora; a noble girl, a Saturn Marionette, with a strong and durable body, with lots awaiting her… with a bright future.

Her visage darkened. How nice. I almost wish we could…

And finally, seated beside the black iron door by the bed…

Not good. Proteus stared at the book she’d been… she was supposed to be reading. We’d attacked a civilian organization, a religious one at that. The Crown had permitted freedom of religion under Jovian Tenets… Dr. Trenton can quite easily lose his title and position if he is tried and found guilty. What would Most Honorable Elder Sister do if she were here…? Would she have crushed the Cult of the Deep, negotiate, or… ignore them?

Her brows curled to form a scowl. Without ample re-education to ground them in their relife, only Ixion is truly loyal to the doctor, and by extension, the Navy and the Crown. Despina… needs more time in the oven, but she seems to obey. The more questionable characters we have on board are potentially… Madeline and Pandora. I have to keep an eye so they won’t cause trouble but…

Her gaze befell not Pandora who sat on bed facing her but Despina, whose back was facing the pale Marionette. I should probably try to spend more time with my latest sibling. Her features eased. Madeline aside, Pandora will inevitably leave for the interior but Despina will remain…