“Quite something, isn’t it?” Sofie asked as she glanced out the window at the growing Otharian capital below. The glow of the crystal street lamps lit the strange metropolis against the night sky, highlighting the strange fusion of future and feudal that the city had become. Only, it wasn’t so much a seamless blend of the two as it was two towns from different times occupying the same space. Railroad tracks and smooth, paved streets with light posts and public bathrooms dotting the way stood right beside old, archaic wooden and stone buildings that looked to be ripped right from the Middle Ages, with little to bring the two together. And in the middle of it all towered Blake’s fortress, gleaming in the light of the moons. “Not what you were expecting?”

“Not exactly, no,” Arlette admitted as she stared at the cityscape beneath them, the zeppelin slowly approaching the city center. “I thought I knew what to expect after riding in this thing, but I guess I was wrong.”

The mercenary, or now perhaps former-mercenary, continued to peer down from the flight deck with interest.

“So those long lines are the “railways” you were talking about?” she asked a few moments later, pointing down at several well-lit tracks running through the city, including a new series that ran a circuit around the city itself. “Do people use them?”

“Some do. More every day,” Sofie replied with some happiness. She didn’t feel the pride in the train system that Blake did, but she couldn’t deny she enjoyed watching progress unfold.

Arlette frowned. “What are you doing about the crossroad towns?”

Sofie returned the frown with a puzzled one of her own. “Huh?”

“Many small towns rely on travelers making their way from one city to another, providing lodging and food to merchants and whatnot,” Arlette explained. “It’s that extra income that, when combined with farming, pushes them into the realm of livability. At least, that’s how it is elsewhere, and I see no reason why it would be any different here. But now, you’ve gone and reduced a many-day trip into a single day excursion that bypasses all these places. So what are you doing to stop these towns from collapsing from the sudden loss of income?”

“Uhh...”

Arlette’s frown deepened. “It never even occurred to you, did it? You were too blinded by the shiny light of progress to even see the downsides.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like any of this is my job...” Sofie deflected, scratching her head self-consciously.

“Whose job is it? Lord Ferros’s? Has he put any amount of thought into this problem? What about all the other ‘improvements’ he’s championed?” She let out a tired sigh. “I’ll have to bring this up with him then...”

“A word of advice: don’t. At least, not until he hires you,” Sofie warned. “He’s very... protective of his inventions. Short of just straight-up attacking him, telling him his projects are problematic is the surest way to not get the job.”

Arlette grunted. “If the two of us can’t work together, it might be better to cut it off before it can even begin.”

“Arlette, are you having second thoughts about this again?”

The Scyrian shook her head. “Not entirely. I just need to have a real conversation with him before I can commit wholeheartedly to a contract. I need to see who he is for myself. Is he simply the man who told me and the Eterians that he couldn’t care less if we died, or is there more to him than that?”

Sofie chuckled softly at that. “He’s... he’s quite a character, that’s for sure. I doubt he’s what you’re expecting.”

“And what, exactly, do you think that I’m expecting?”

Sofie couldn’t help but laugh and roll her eyes. “I have no idea. But whatever it is, I know without a doubt that he isn’t that. You’ll see.”

*     *     *

Sofie tossed and turned atop the metal bench outside of Blake’s expanded quarters, waiting for Arlette to emerge. Both Arlette and Blake had insisted that she leave them alone for a private conversation, much to her irritation. Though Sofie knew she could always go do something else while she waited, she found herself nervously hovering outside the door instead, too nervous to distract herself with some other activity. That meant all she could do was lie there on the profoundly hard and uncomfortable bench beside the door until the others were done.

Blake was many things, but a furniture designer he was most definitely not. And yet, to her constant dismay, he insisted on creating the vast majority of the chairs, tables, etc. found in the fortress out of the fortress itself rather than use actual, real furniture with stuffing and whatnot. Something about it being “easier to redecorate when I shake things up”. The end result was hard furniture and an aching back for her this evening.

Luckily, her long wait appeared to be over, as the nearby door opened with a soft hiss, revealing her friend. Sofie waiting as Arlette stepped through the doorway and the door hissed back shut before asking the all-important question.

“Well? How’d it go?”

Arlette paused for a moment, an unfocused gaze in her eyes.

“What an utterly bizarre individual,” she finally replied.

“You don’t say?” Sofie said with a smirk as she pushed herself to her feet. The two of them headed down the hallway and away from Blake’s rooms.

“An absolute tangled mess of contradictory attitudes and opinions. Willing to cede to others on some things, yet completely entrenched on others, even when the issues are similar. Simultaneously reasonable and unreasonable.”

“Welcome to the Blake Experience,” Sofie stated with knowing amusement.

Together, the two of them emerged onto an outside walkway and stopped for a moment, letting the cool air wash over them and whisk away the fatigue.

“I think the part that bothers me the most is his perspective on his subjects and their lives. He seems to care for them in the abstract, perhaps, but more as an idea than as actual people. Their actual suffering seems to have little impact, as if he views them as something different than how he views himself. It’s almost as if he sees this country is a shanlet beetle colony trapped in a box, where he can watch and tinker to improve their efficiency, but he has little investment in the lives of the individual beetles inside. And if they were to bite him, he’s more than ready to shake the box as hard as he feels necessary.”

“Is that a dealbreaker?” Sofie inquired worriedly. She wished she could argue with her friend’s assessment, but deep down she found the analogy too true to contest.

Arlette paused for a moment and stared up at the moons, basking in their pale radiance.

“I find it incredible how, even now, you’re still so...” She faded off.

“Wonderful? Special? Caring?” Sofie playfully prodded.

“...naive.”

“Wha?”

“It doesn’t matter who you are or what you believe in, this world drags us down into the muck all the same. After everything you’ve seen and everything you’ve been through, you should have realized by now that even the best-hearted people have blackened spirits. Yet, you still hold everybody to this insane, impossible ideal.”

“What’s insane about high standards?” Sofie shot back. “Improvement can only happen if you refuse to accept that which is wrong. Earth used to be like this Scyria for centuries and centuries. The only reason we managed to pull ourselves from the ‘muck’ is that people had the courage and convictions to say ‘this is wrong’ and to stand up for their beliefs. Progress only happens when people are willing to say ‘this isn’t right’ and refuse to compromise on it!”

“But you’re being absurd about it! Nobody can pass your test! I sure as fuck can’t! After all the terrible things I’ve done in my life, I’m amazed you’re willing to even talk to me!”

“But you’re... I know you’re a good person! You could have left me to die back when we first met, but you didn’t! You helped me when I was nothing but dead weight! You put your life on the line to protect me. You care about people!”

“So does Blake, in his own way! I’m not saying he’s perfect, or right, or even good. There’s much that you’ve told me about his actions that I strongly disagree with. But it’s clear to me now that he does care about more than just himself. And you know what? That’s enough for me. Believe it or not, I’ve had worse clients than him. I’ve served people who viewed all those beneath them as nothing more than resources to plunder and ruin for their personal enrichment and entertainment. He’s not like that, at least. He cares. That’s good enough for me right now. That, and the pay is absurd. He even agreed to do something about that crazy diplomat lady who tried to kill me during the battle. So yes, I guess I’ll stick around.”

“Yaayyyy!” Sofie exclaimed, wrapping the other woman into an enthusiastic hug. “Things are looking up for all of us. I can feel it!”

“I hope you’re right...” Arlette muttered as she gently disengaged. “I’m beat, so I’m going to go find my room and get some rest. You think you could help me navigate my way around this place?”

“Sure! I-” Sofie hesitated. “Actually, I needed to go talk to Blake before he falls asleep. I can ask Sam to show you if she’s still awake.”

“Nah, forget it. I’ll find my way, don’t worry. Go do what you need to do.”

“Alright. See you!”

In a better mood than she’d been in a long time, Sofie retraced her steps back to Blake’s door. She rang the doorbell and waited.

“I’m going to bed, come back tomorrow,” a voice said through the intercom in the panel by the door. The words came in English, and Sofie, always eager to practice her languages, responded in kind.

“You’re always busy with something in the mornings,” she replied. “I don’t want to wait.”

After a pause, the speaker crackled to life again, the weariness in the voice on the other end quite apparent. “Fine, make it quick.”

The door slid open and Sofie walked in to find Blake sitting in a large motorized “wheelchair” of his own design. Sofie mentally put ”wheelchair” in quotes because, much like most of Blake’s designs, it did not have any actual wheels. Instead, it was basically a small skitter with the abdomen converted into a chair for the man to sit in during the day.

“You’re looking a bit better since I left,” Sofie observed. “Your face has some color to it now. How goes wearing the suit again?”

Blake let out a short, frustrated grunt. “Not yet. Soon, I think. The pain has mostly gone now, down to a dull roar. So what do you want? I’ve had a long day and I need my beauty sleep.”

“Right, beauty sleep. That reminds me, did you wear your mask when you talked to Arlette?”

“Didn’t see the point. The mask and armor exist to exude strength. It hiding my face is just a bonus. But no helmet is going to make this exude strength.” He gestured to his battered form, his crippled lower body hidden under a blanket.

“Still, you’re giving her more trust than anybody else I know other than me, Samanta, Pari, and... does Leo even know what you look like?”

Blake shook his head. “Leo is Otharian, and I never appear before Otharians without my full suit. Have to show strength at all times with them.”

“But... it’s Leo! After all the work he’s done for you, you still don’t trust him?”

“I trust him more than any other Otharian, but he’s still Otharian. There’s a limit. Now, did you come in here to waste my time or did you actually have something worth bothering me for?”

Sofie rolled her eyes. Blake was feeling extra-snarky today, it seemed, likely from being cooped up for so long. “I want you to let me into that vault you built downstairs. Enough is enough. Let me talk to her.”

Blake stared at her like she’d grown another head. “What, are you crazy?! No fucking way!”

“How long do you plan to keep her down there? Forever?”

“Yes! Absolutely!”

“Blake...”

“What?! I’m sick of you acting like I’m the bad guy here! She nearly killed me!”

“And now she won’t!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Blake, you won! Why can’t you get that?! She has no reason to want you dead anymore. All she wants to do is go home!”

“And she can’t! So you don’t know what she’s going to do! It’s safer if we just leave her as she is!”

“And what if she wakes up on her own? Look, Blake, for all we know, this isn’t the first time she’s done this. You wouldn’t know this, but back during the invasion, there was a long time when she just disappeared and nobody knew what happened to her. Then she just reappeared without any warning. If she went into a fugue like this before, then that means she came out of it then and she can come out of it now, even if you never bother her again. Are you ready for whatever she does after waking up to find herself enclosed by ten meters of metal and no doors out? I sure wouldn’t take that well, so why should she?”

Sofie caught a flicker of doubt and worry in Blake’s eyes and pressed the issue. “Let me try to talk to her. If I greet her with compassion, I think there’s a great chance that we can nip this problem in the bud and even turn it into a blessing. Bring her to our side.”

“I don’t think I want her on our side,” he muttered. “I don’t really want her even on the same continent.”

“Well, I don’t know if you have a choice here. You keep talking about how you need to project strength to the Otharians, right? Well, the last thing the people of Wroetin saw was a woman wrecking the same robots that scare them to death, followed by you vanishing for the next ten days. You’ve spread the word that you’re alright, but you haven’t shown up in public and people are going to talk, if they aren’t already. So when you finally are ready to put that suit on again, you’re going to need something to show. Something more than just you. And what could be better than displaying the mighty warrior who fought you, now working for you?”

Paused at that, his mind working over her argument.

“Didn’t I just hire the best illusionist in the world?” he eventually responded. “I can just have her fake it. Nobody will be able to tell the difference.”

“That will only last until you need to demonstrate her power. Which could happen anytime in this place.” She leaned in, putting extra emphasis on her words as she drove her case home. “Blake, don’t treat this like we all treated climate change. This is not something that will go away on its own, and the longer we ignore it, the worse it’s likely to get.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, his voice sour. “But good luck getting anything out of her.”

A screen on the wall to Sofie’s left flashed on, revealing an image of the woman, illuminated by a single soft light overhead. Her body remained in the same position as it had been in when Sofie had last seen her all those days ago, her upper body slouched forward over her knees and her hair hanging down obscuring her face.

“Has she moved at all?” Sofie inquired.

“Not a bit. If she did, an alarm would go off. I have her monitored every second of every day. The only movement you’ll ever see is that she sheds a tear maybe once every three or four hours. That’s how I know she’s not dead.”

“So, best-case scenario, we get a new ally. Worst case, I can’t wake her and nothing changes.”

“No, worst case is that talking to you makes her decide to kill us all.”

“Very funny,” Sofie sniffed. “I’ll have you know I am the pinnacle of charm and charisma. All the Pari’s say so.”

“You have obviously never spoken to yourself,” Blake snorted. “I’ll make you an entrance tomorrow. Don’t fuck this up, for all of our sakes.”

*     *     *

Sofie studied the woman slumped down on the cold metal floor in front of her, gazing at her with interest and no small amount of pity. She found it impossible to not feel the sadness flowing from the forlorn figure, who looked almost like a tragic character in a play, marked by a single spotlight shining down from directly overhead.

Sofie had stood there for what felt like a good ten minutes, looking for a single change but finding none. In the interest of self-preservation, she wanted to avoid going too far and only do the least required to wake the other woman up. Something told her that the woman wouldn’t be too happy if Sofie could wake her with a rough jostle but stabbed her with a knife instead.

“Hello! Can you hear me?” she began.

The woman didn’t move.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your... whatever this is, but we need to talk.”

Still, the woman didn’t move.

Sofie stepped forward and leaned over, pulling the black hair aside so she could see the woman’s face and letting light shine in for perhaps the first time since that chaotic day over a week ago. The eyes she found within unnerved her, their gaze empty and soulless. Sofie waved her hand in front of those eyes, but, as before, got no response. Snapping her fingers in front of the woman’s face brought the same result.

A poke to the cheek. A wicked pinch on the arm. A whack to the head. Yelling directly into her ear. Shaking her roughly. No matter what Sofie tried, nothing worked. After more than fifteen minutes of failed attempts, all she could do was lean against the wall of the small enclosure and sigh in defeat.

Sofie knew full well that nobody could be truly condensed down to a single descriptor—Sofie was more than just a college student, Arlette was more than just a mercenary, Blake was more than just a jerk—and so it hurt her to reduce the sad figure before her down to the word “mother”. But that was all Sofie knew of her. She didn’t even know the woman’s name. So, having run out of other ideas, Sofie decided it was time to leverage the one bit of knowledge she did possess. It was time for the nuclear option. It was time for Pari.

*     *     *

Finding Pari was as easy as it always was; Sofie just had to follow the noise. For once, however, the noise was not the bangs and booms of homemade explosives, but rather high-pitched squeals and protests and even-higher-pitched laughter.

In a way, Pari found Sofie more than the other way around. As Sofie walked down the hallway towards the voices, suddenly Samanta hurtled around an upcoming corner and headed her way, flying as fast as her adolescent legs could move her. Sure enough, Pari emerged just a moment later hot on her heels, her hands reaching out after her fleeing friend as some unknown fluid dripped from them.

Sofie couldn’t help but notice how much shorter the catgirl stood than the Otharian child. Though Sofie and the others believed Pari to be roughly nine years old, putting her at most a year younger than Samanta, it was clear now in contrast that Pari was much closer to a six-year-old than a nine-year-old in stature. That didn’t stop the beastkin child from keeping pace with the taller girl. Perhaps her growth was normal for a beastgirl, or perhaps Samanta was simply slow for a ten-year-old thanks to a year of sedentary life with Blake; Sofie couldn’t be sure.

Samanta spotted Sofie immediately and made a beeline towards her, ducking behind her body to shield her from the incoming catkin menace.

“Makeherstopmakeherstopmakeherstop!” the young Otharian pleaded.

With practiced motions born from far too much experience, Sofie bent down and snatched Pari’s arms by the elbows, deftly halting her attack while avoiding getting any of the foul-smelling substance on her skin or clothes.

“Pari, stop chasing Samanta around when your hands are covered in... what is this stuff?”

“Icky juice!” Pari giggled happily.

Icky juice? Half of all the crap the minuscule munitions expert messed with could qualify as such.

“Well, whatever it is, I need you to come wash it off, okay? I need your help with something important.”

“Okay,” Pari replied. Together, they left a relieved Samanta and headed for the closest restroom.

As Pari stood upon a step stool in front of the sink, merrily humming to herself as she cleansed her fingers of whatever godforsaken substance she’d gotten her clutches on this time, Sofie decided it was time for a quick talk, sister to sister.

“Pari, it’s about time you stop chasing people around with goop on your hands. Especially Samanta. She really doesn’t like it.”

“Ah!?” Pari gasped in shock and confusion. “B-but-”

“I know you think it’s fun and funny, but most of us just find it gross.”

“Pari make Sammy-friend sad?” the child sniffed, her ears and tail drooping as tears began to form in her eyes.

Sofie rushed forward to pull the tyke into a comforting hug before things could snowball into sob and sadness. “There there, it’s okay,” she reassured the small girl. “It’s not always easy to be a good friend.”

“Pari never had friend before...” the beastchild bemoaned as she buried her face in Sofie’s shirt. “Pari wants to be good friend, but Pari not know what good friend is!”

“It’s not about what good friends are, it’s what good friends do,” Sofie explained.

“Ha?” Pari unburied her face and looked up in confusion.

“Good friends cheer their friends up when their friends are sad. Good friends help their friends face their fears. Good friends protect each other from danger. But most of all, good friends treat their friends with respect and love, and they’re always there to support each other. If you can do that, then I know you can be a good friend.”

“Really? Pari can be good friend?!”

“I’m sure, if you try, you could be the best good friend the world has ever seen!”

“Pari will! Pari will be the best friend!” the girl declared, a renewed fire in her eyes.

“That’s the spirit!” Sofie chuckled. “Now sweetie, do you have all that gunk off your hands? I still need your help.”

“Pari all clean!” Pari announced, raising her spotless palms toward the ceiling for Sofie to see.

“Alright, let’s go.”

As Sofie walked down the hall, she couldn’t help but smile as she watched Pari skipping happily along, humming a merry tune to herself. Sofie couldn’t deny the blessing that Pari had been for her this past year. Had the adorable little tyke not stumbled into her life, Sofie thought it likely that she would have given in to despair many times during her terrible ordeal. Pari had been a constant source of joy and delight ever since they’d met. If she truly could never go back to Earth, as long as Pari was with her then she knew she would be alright.

Several minutes later, Sofie led her adopted sister into the absurdly thick vault-prison hybrid, leaned back, and watched the magic happen. Pari approached the woman’s fallen form, cuteness dialed to max, and let out a curious “nya?” that could melt the heart of the evilest person to ever live.

Nothing happened.

“Wha?” Sofie muttered in shock and alarm. It couldn’t be! Was it true? Could nothing wake the warrior woman? Was her mission truly impossible?

“Nya? Lady sleeping?”

Just like Sofie, Pari went through the steps. She prodded and tapped and spoke, but every attempt ended in the same result.

“Sofie-sis, what’s wrong with lady?” Pari finally asked, sticking her head under the woman’s face and staring up at it quizzically. She gasped and recoiled in surprise as a single drop of liquid fell onto her face. “Lady sad!? Sofie-sis, why lady sad?”

“I think she misses her family,” Sofie offered.

Sofie’s conjecture seemed to put a charge of determination in the young girl. Wiggling about, Pari wormed her way under the woman’s arms. “Don’t cry, lady, Pari here now!” she told the unmoving form as she snuggled into the woman’s chest and wrapped her tiny arms around the woman’s torso. “Pari will make all better!”

Maybe it was the hug, maybe it was the nuzzle, maybe the words finally reached her; Sofie couldn’t say one way or the other. Whatever it may have been, it worked. The woman’s body shuddered seemingly involuntarily and she violently gasped for air as if she’d been holding her breath for days, which was actually fairly close to reality. Pari let out a surprised “Nya?!” as the woman’s arms constricted around her and locked her in an inescapably tight embrace.

Before Sofie could even say a word, the woman began to sob loudly while rocking forward and backward, tears streaming down her face. Any words of comfort or encouragement died inside Sofie’s throat. Instead, she stood still, waiting for the woman’s emotions to calm a bit.

Soon, as the rocking and weeping continued without any signs of weakening, it became clear that the woman wouldn’t be calming down anytime soon. Sofie wasn’t even sure if the other Earthling knew she was even standing nearby. She decided to change tactics.

“Pari, sweetie,” she said to the trapped little girl, who, judging by the waving of her tail, was not having the greatest time, “could you stay with her for a little longer? I’m going to go get her some food.”

Pari let out a soft whine.

“Please, Pari. I’ll buy you a delicious meal as thanks for helping me out. Whatever you want.”

“...Pari want Kozak,” the child replied. Kozak’s Tavern was a fairly average example of an Otharian “restaurant”, situated a few minutes walk away from the fortress. Sofie didn’t much like Otharian cuisine, nor did she think Kozak’s Tavern was the best example of it. However, Pari absolutely adored their food, especially their meat pies, and seemed to want to eat nothing else anymore. Sofie found her obsession quite frustrating, but today she would leverage it for everything it was worth.

“Alright, you be nice and stay with the sad lady here, and I’ll get you all the meat pies you can eat.”

“Okay...” came the subdued response.

Sofie left the “prison” and slowly made her way to the fortress’s small cafeteria, where the clerks, administrators, and other assorted government workers who weren’t allowed inside the middle half of the fortress ate their lunches. There, she asked for a bunch of bread and other foods that could be eaten by hand and didn’t need a plate. The cook there gave her everything she asked for and more, all the while trying his best not to look her in the eyes. The way the lower-level people in the fortress treated her like she was some terrifying demon who might chop their heads off at any moment if they were to accidentally insult her often left her feeling depressed. It was all because of her connection to Blake, she knew, but that still worried her, especially given her future plans.

It had always bothered her that Blake spent time teaching one child and leaving the other thousands and thousands of kids to rot in ignorance, but he hadn’t seemed to care too much. So, as she did whenever she knew something had to be done but Blake didn’t care, she began to bother him about it. A lot. Recently, after some serious nagging, Sofie had finally made progress on the educational front.

Blake didn’t have the time or energy to deal with setting up an entire school system from scratch, and to be totally honest, neither did she. But there were other ways to spread knowledge, one of which would be starting in just a few days. Hopefully, her undeserved reputation with the workers here wouldn’t sabotage this endeavor.

She returned to a much quieter place than the one she’d left. The woman and Pari were still there, but the tears seemed to have finally dried up. Now, she just slowly rocked back and forth, while Pari hummed a nameless tune into her chest.

“I thought you might be hungry,” Sofie said, offering the woman a small loaf of bread. The woman took it in silence and stared at it a bit before taking a small bite. “Anyway, I’m Sofie Ramaut, from Belgium. This angel’s name is Pari; we don’t know where she came from. Would you mind telling us your name?”

A long silence fell upon them as the woman slowly chewed, her eyes still not really looking at anything in front of her. “Gabriela Carreno,” she finally said. “...from Mexico.”

“Gabriela... that’s a nice name,” Sofie offered.

Gabriela didn’t reply.

Sofie coughed. “So, Gabriela, um-”

“Why did you bring me back?”

Sofie paused for a moment, completely taken aback by the question. “I’m sorry?”

“It would have been better for everybody if you’d just left me alone.”

“What... you can’t actually believe that!”

“All the death and pain and suffering I’ve caused, all for my own misguided selfishness...” Gabriela said, less to Sofie than to herself. “I don’t deserve to live, but I can’t bring myself to die.”

“That’s... come on now, I know what Blake said was really harsh, but that’s just how he is. You can’t take what he said to heart.”

“No, he was right. Some part of me knew from the beginning. It was too easy. They promised me the only thing I wanted, and all that I needed to do was help them get everything they wanted. I’m not the smartest person ever made, but I’m not a fool. But... I wanted to believe. And they kept showing me enough ‘proof’ to let me throw away that disbelieving part of me. So I did.”

“What do you mean they kept showing you proof?”

“They told me that I needed to get the Eyes to power the machine and that they could be found in the other countries. That was the hardest part for me to believe. Even though I wanted to believe it, I couldn’t at first.”

“Well, yeah, that sounds awfully convenient for them.”

“Then, they conquered the Droajan Federation, and in the capital’s vault, hidden in a secret compartment, was an Eye.”

“Wait, so the Eyes are real?”

“Do you believe your friend when he says they aren’t?”

“He’s not my friend. But no, he wouldn’t lie about that. He was telling the truth.”

“Then the Ubrans must have created one and somehow planted it inside the Droajan vault. And we went immediately there, so it must have happened before they even conquered the city. And then again in Gustil, we found an Eye there as well. Between those and the demonstration of the machine, that was enough for me to push that doubting voice aside and hope. I needed that hope more than anything. So I threw it all away. My beliefs, my morals, the Lord’s teachings, all of it... I threw it all away so I could cling to that hope with everything I had. And everybody died because I did that.”

“You are... more distraught about this than I thought you would be, to be honest.”

Gabriela did not respond for a moment, her one hand slowly caressing Pari’s hair.

“‘Thou shalt not kill’ means something,” she answered. “Commandments are Commandments, and breaking them is to go against the Lord. When I realized what I would have to do to go home, I found that I had a choice: was it worth it to damn my eternal soul and reject the word of the Lord for the chance to save my family? I found that my answer is yes, and if it would get me back to them I would do it again. But I knew what I was doing was horrible. I knew it was a terrible sin. I did it anyway. I just told myself it was worth it. But it wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry that-”

“Please don’t tell me you forgive me. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

Sofie let out an amused snort. First Arlette told her that she held everybody to an impossible standard, and now she was being told to hold somebody to an impossible standard.

“Fine, I won’t forgive you,” she informed her. “Other people around here might. And I understand what you went through. I know how confusing and scary it was to show up in this world with no warning. But you knew the consequences of your choices and you went through with them. So... now what?”

“Now...?”

“We’ve established that you’re a foolish, evil, no-good, terrible individual who slaughtered hundreds or thousands of people. An utterly irredeemable, pond scum sort of person. The question is, what should be done about that? Do you want to be locked up for the rest of eternity? Do you want us to find a way to kill you for good? What if, instead, you follow in Blake’s footsteps?”

“...huh?”

“Do you think Blake’s a saint or something? He’s brought just as much death to this world as anybody. Maybe more even than you. But he’s not sitting in a tiny room, stuck thinking about how terrible he is or how much evil he’s committed. No, he runs an entire country. I don’t agree with the majority of his decisions, but you know what? I can’t deny he’s trying to improve this hellhole in his own way. And maybe, given enough time, he’ll do enough good to offset the bad. The important part, though, is that at least he’s trying.

“There’s nothing stopping you from doing the same. Are you just going to mope for the rest of your life? Or are you going to go back out there and help us better this world, one day at a time?”

“What’s the point?” Gabriela sighed. “None of this matters to me anymore.”

Sofie clenched her jaw shut before she said something she would regret. She understood just how deep in the abyss the other Earthling’s psyche was at the moment, but the depressed, ‘woe is me’ routine was really starting to grate on her nerves. She forced herself to calm down and think, looking for a way to get through to the morose figure still holding onto Pari like a shipwrecked sailor clutching at flotsam.

“Do you believe you’ll live forever?” she finally asked.

“I don’t really know anymore,” her counterpart replied. “I might.”

“Nothing lives forever. I doubt you will either.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“So... when you die,” Sofie wondered, “where will you go?”

“Hell, surely.”

“But, like... Earth Hell? Is there only one Heaven and Hell? Because, if so, then you will eventually leave this place. And that means, if you got into Heaven, you would be able to meet your family again one day.”

Gabriela blinked.

“That’s how I see it, anyway,” Sofie continued. “So, if you could do enough good from now on to offset the bad from the past, you could see your children again. Even though we can’t leave this world alive, there’s a way for you to get what you want in the end.”

“I... never thought of it like that,” Gabriela admitted. “But there’s no way I could ever be forgiven for my sins.”

“Says who? I’m no theologian, but if God is powerful enough to send you here, then God is powerful enough to know the misery you’ve had to endure because of that. Yours is the most special of special cases. And with your abilities, if you tried hard enough, I think you might even be able to do it. And when the day finally comes when you meet, you’ll be able to face them with pride.”

“Could... could that actually happen?”

Sofie shrugged. “Who can say? But why not give it a try? What’s the worst that could happen? You do loads of good, make thousands of peoples’ lives better, and atone for your past deeds? Ugh, how terrible!” She walked up beside the older woman and extended a hand. “You’ll never pull yourself out of this hole by being a mopey lump all day and night. Let’s get out there and brighten somebody’s day. Come on. It’ll work wonders.”

Gabriela seemed to mentally sink into herself for a few moments before slowly untangling herself from Pari and taking Sofie’s hand.

“I can try, I guess...” she muttered, her tone conflicted and unsure. “I don’t really know what to do, though...”

“Leave that to me. We’ll start small,” Sofie told her. She had a pretty simple idea that, hopefully, would allow for Gabriela to find what she needed to stay sane in this world.

“Lady not sad anymore?” Pari inquired.

“Call me Gabby, darling,” Gabriela replied, patting the catkin softly on the head. “Thank you for helping.”

“Pari always helpful!” the child boasted, the audacity—and sheer incorrectness—of the statement nearly causing Sofie to choke on her own saliva. Pari joyfully headed towards the exit, blissfully unaware that Gabby had not actually answered the question.

“Come with me,” Sofie instructed, following Pari out.

The two Earthlings walked for a few moments in silence, with only Pari’s jaunty tune to fill the void.

“So... she is...” Gabby haltingly began, searching for the right words.

“She’s my adopted younger sister,” Sofie informed her.

“You adopted her?”

Sofie chuckled. “Oh, no. She adopted me.”

“I... see...” Gabby replied in the sort of tone that said that she didn’t see at all. “Can... uh... would it be possible if...”

“You want to hold her some more, don’t you?”

“...yeah...”

Sofie couldn’t help but laugh. “Emotional Support Pari is a hell of a drug,” she giggled. “If you want to hold her, you can work it out with her yourself. She takes payment in meat pies.”

Pari eventually split off and went her separate way, hopefully to go apologize to Samanta. Sofie and Gabby, on the other hand, kept heading north towards the outer ring of the fortress.

“What happened to the Blade of Eternity?” the Mexican asked.

Sofie tensed up at the question. Blake had mentioned several times just how stubbornly Gabriela had refused to release that massive sword in the past. Would she care that Blake had taken it for study? “It’s... uh... elsewhere. We kind of... took it.”

“Please keep it away from me,” Gabby thankfully replied. “I never want to see that thing ever again.”

“Well, uh, we might need you to hold it one more time for, um, public relations reasons. But we’ll never ask you to use it for bloodshed ever again, I promise. You’re not the only one who doesn’t want it in your hands. You don’t need that thing, anyway. There are a million ways you can help the world without it.”

“You said you had an idea?” Gabby prodded after another moment.

“Yeah,” she replied as the pair came to a door leading to the outside of the fortress and walked out into the fresh morning air. “I’ll get you hooked up with...”

She coughed as the acrid smell of smoke filled her nostrils. “What in the world is going on out here?”

Thick plumes of smoke rose from pockets around the city. One, two, three... counting swiftly, Sofie spotted at least seven large fires from her vantage point, their smoke billowing up into the sky and forming a thick haze over the northern quarter of the city.

Wroetin burned.

*     *     *

“-and, as always, the modifier comes after the verb, so ‘run swiftly’, not ‘swiftly run’,” Sofie explained, making sure to write the Eterian Common as large and legible as possible on the oversized blackboard. Turning back to the sea of young faces projected around the hall, she smiled warmly. “That’s all for today, children! Thank you all for your good behavior today! I will see you all in three days, as always. Lastly, don’t forget...”

“Always care for your fellow people, no matter what!” she intoned, thousands of children saying it together with her.

Giving the Many handlers the cut-off signal, she teetered on her feet as the illusions around her winked out of existence one by one, before finally collapsing onto her rear end when none of the children were left to see her. Letting out a long breath, she wiped the sweat from her brow.

These educational “shows” she ran now really sucked the energy right out of her. All the pressure of the thousands of children watching through Manys around Otharia really wore her down. She would start out so strong, but the weariness would build slowly over time like drops of water from a leaky faucet. Still, she was generally fine until the sign-off, when she no longer had something else to focus on. That was when the exhaustion would just slam into her like a large bucket of sports drink being dumped on an unsuspecting coach and leave her momentarily wiped out.

She wiped away the sweat on her brow with her sleeve. Spring was in full swing these days, and the House of Manys was starting to get a little uncomfortable during the mid-afternoon. Perhaps it was time to switch to short-sleeves.

Today’s show had gone quite well, she believed. First created the rough equivalent of two Earth months ago, after a suggestion from Gabby the day of her reawakening, the children’s show was her first step towards a full-fledged nation-wide educational system, or at least so she hoped. But for now, the Divide-level mountain of work such an endeavor would entail was far more than Sofie or Blake or anybody else was ready for. Still, this was a good start.

Each broadcast focused on teaching basic literacy and math skills to the young children of Otharia, who by and large received no education whatsoever. There was only so much she could do on her own, isolated physically from her actual audience, but she believed she was making progress.

Unexpectedly, there was far less unrest over the mandatory nature of the lectures than she’d expected. It seemed that all but the most pious and patriotic wanted their children to be able to read. Not unexpectedly, the biggest topic of complaints was that she’d chosen to teach the children Eterian Common, rather than Otharian. Sofie didn’t care; she knew she’d made the right choice. One day, Otharia was going to truly open up to the rest of the world, and when they did, they would need to know how to read and write Nocend’s default written language.

Stretching her tired body, Sofie left the House of Manys and headed for the offices of the Ministry of Security, the newest department added to the fortress’s collection. It had been a few days since Sofie had been able to catch up with her busy friend, and she had extra reason to seek Arlette out this time. Arlette would be taking a short break soon, if Sofie’s timing was correct. The newly-minted Minister of Security usually took a break in the mid-afternoon, sitting outside to bask in the warmth of the sun for a few minutes before getting back to work.

As she’d hoped, Sofie found the former mercenary leaning against a railing up atop the wall, gazing out into the distance. Her hand held a small drink, which Sofie found unusual. Arlette had a penchant for drinking heavily when alcohol could be had, a habit picked up from her years as a mercenary. But as far as Sofie knew, she saved her alcohol for when she was off duty.

“Drinking on the job?” she joked as she approached. “Has working under Blake driven you to alcohol so quickly?”

“Har har,” Arlette responded. She took a sip of the brew. “I’m just stressed, that’s all.”

Sofie frowned. “The terrorists?”

Arlette just nodded and took another sip.

Sofie let out an aggravated grunt. “I’m so sick of those evil bastards. Setting fire to innocent people. Sick, sick people.”

Arlette took one last large gulp and downed the remnants of her drink. “They hit Nont last night. Burned down a whole city block. Killed at least forty people. And yet... no leads.”

With a sudden burst of anger, she hurled her empty cup against the walkway. Thankfully, the cup was metal, and so it merely bounced wildly off the walkway and plummeted down to the ground below instead of shattering. Still, going down to get it was going to be quite a walk.

“Are you... feeling alright?” Sofie hesitantly inquired, worried about her friend’s sudden outburst.

“I’m fine, it’s just...” Arlette growled, her hands balled into tight fists. “Protect Otharia from threats both within and without; that’s my job, and I’m failing at it. I can’t catch even one of these fuckers. It’s like they’re fucking taunting me.”

“There’s no need to take this so personally. That’s only going to make it worse.”

“I know, I know. It just feels personal. That day when they first hit, the day after we arrived from Crirada, that was my first day on the job. They had their little coming-out party on my very first day like they were throwing down a challenge at my feet and daring me to try to answer it. Like they were saying ‘Welcome to Otharia, outsider. You don’t have what it takes to stop us.’ And what kills me is that, so far, they’ve been right. After all this time, we still know nothing about them. How many people they have, where they’re based, who leads them, we don’t even know what they fucking call themselves! You would think, with the fleet of surveillance drones we have up there, that we’d be able to make some headway by now. But no, all we know is that they burn down places they view as being too cooperative with the new regime. That’s it. And that’s not good enough.”

“Hold on, back up. You aren’t seriously saying that the terrorists set all those fires that day to personally send you a message, are you?”

Arlette shook her head. “No, I’m not saying that is the case in reality. There’s no reason for that and there’s no way they would even know I was here. But it’s not about what it is, it’s about how it feels. And it feels like a slap in the face.”

“Do you think that the Empire has anything to do with this?”

“I don’t see how. The Ubrans have been beaten all the way back to Redwater Castle, according to the last report. Took tremendous losses the whole way, too. Those bastards won’t be bothering us again for a long while. Shame Redwater will be so hard to retake, though. But that’s somebody else’s problem. I have too much on my plate as it is.”

“You know what?” Sofie said with a smile. “It sounds to me like you need to relax and unwind a little. What do you say you join Pari and me for dinner tonight? We’re going out as a reward for Pari being so well-behaved lately.”

Arlette arched an eyebrow. “Kozak’s again?”

“Yeah, well, you know how she is...” Sofie sighed. “And it’s for her so she gets to pick...”

“I think they’re pretty good, actually,” the Scyrian informed her. “Especially the meat pies.”

Sofie couldn’t help but let out a pained laugh. “Nooooo, not you too!”

“What can I say? The crusts are wonderfully flaky. They kind of remind me of the bakery from my childhood. Sure, I’ll come. Is it just going to be the three of us?”

“Samanta is probably going to come as well, and maybe one other person if I can convince them.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you there later,” the older woman said, turning to go back inside. “I have to get back to work.”

“Don’t forget your cup.”

Arlette just grumbled back.

*     *     *

That evening, Sofie approached a large building on the western side of Wroetin, Pari in tow and a skitter... skittering alongside for protection. The sounds of yelling and playing children serenaded them as they grew closer to the walled yard in front of the building. Sofie directed the skitter to stay outside as they crossed through the open gate and entered pure bedlam. Kids of all ages ran about, chasing each other, throwing balls and other things, and generally just being kids. Pari’s eyes sparkled at the sight, and Sofie could tell from her body language that she wanted to run off and join the mess, but she didn’t. Yes, Pari was a good girl.

Several children waved to the catchild and Sofie let her go play for a minute, with the instructions that she needed to be ready to leave fairly soon. Pari didn’t have any friends here at the orphanage just yet, but she had managed during her past visits to move past “weird kid with the animal ears and tail” status and into “acquaintance” status. This fact warmed Sofie’s heart. It felt like she was watching the child grow before her eyes.

This institution, Wroetin Orphanage Four, was the site of step one of Gabriela’s rehabilitation. The hope was that Gabby would be able to find an outlet for her pent-up emotions and form some bonds with people here on Scyria. If she had more connections, maybe every day she spent here would be a bit more bearable and it would help her get back on her feet. Besides, there was a shit ton of work to do here that would occupy her time, and the orphanages all needed more people to take care of the children anyway.

“Hey, kid, come here,” Sofie instructed, leading a random nearby child who looked to be able eight years old over to the corner of the yard for a moment of privacy.

The child looked about with some worry but didn’t fight her. She visited this orphanage once every few days to check in on Gabby, and the kids all knew who she was at this point.

“Don’t worry, I just want to talk,” she mollified the child. She squatted down to his height to be less intimidating. “Are they treating you well here?”

The child looked down at the dirt as he scuffed his feet and ground the sole of his one shoe against the ground nervously. “Yeah...”

“What about Gabriela? Is she treating everybody well?”

“Yeah...” the boy said tentatively. “Her cooking is weird. I like it though...”

“Is that all? Don’t hold back for my sake. It sounds like you want to say ‘but’.”

The boy ground the sole on his shoe harder. “But sometimes she cries a lot when she thinks she’s alone. And she gets really mad when somebody gets hurt. Barlo hit Orzel with a stick and she got really scary.”

“I see...” Sofie replied, fishing a small piece of candy out of a pocket and handing it to the child. “Thank you. You can go now.”

The child popped the candy into his mouth—clearly, nobody had told him to never take candy from strangers—and ran off. Sofie straightened up and made her way towards the orphanage’s front door. What the child told her pretty much lined up with what she’d heard before from other children. It seemed like progress would be slow, but she had faith that it would come with time.

“Pari! Come along!” she called into the crowd. A moment later, a slightly disappointed-looking beastkin girl emerged from the ruckus and followed her into the building proper.

The pair found Gabriela with a fifty-something woman in the orphanage’s kitchen, slaving over a pot large enough to classify as a cauldron in Sofie’s mind. A rather pleasant smell of boiling meat and vegetables wafted from the massive thing.

The other woman noticed them first and called out a greeting, startling Gabby for a moment. After realizing who it was, the Earthling put on a smile.

“Hello, Sofie, hello Pari,” she said, bending down with her arms open wide.

Pari approached Gabby and halted just out of reach, seeming to be thinking about something.

“Pari wants two meat pies this time,” she stated.

“What?” Gabby laughed. “That’s double your normal rate, you rascal!”

“Pari extra hungry today!” she declared.

“Oh, alright. Two pies. Now come here.”

“Okay!” Pari stepped forward and was immediately scooped up into a smothering embrace. She nuzzled her face into Gabby’s chest and began to purr. As always, the older woman seemed to nearly melt from the cuteness assault.

The sight brought a smile to Sofie’s face. Back on that first day, she’d been joking when she suggested Gabby pay Pari with meat pies for long hugs, but somehow it had turned into a real thing. For Gabby’s sake, she hoped Pari never caught on to the true demand for Pari hugs. Pari could demand a hundred meat pies and the woman would agree. That was how much she valued these times.

“Speaking of meat pies, we’re going to Kozak’s Tavern for a meal. We stopped by to invite you along.”

“Ah, I can’t,” Gabby declined. “There’s just so much to do here...”

“Oh, enough of that,” the other woman interjected. “We held this place together before you came, we’ll survive without you for a few hours. Go have a nice time. You never leave this place as it is.”

“Think of it this way: you’re just acquiring what you owe Pari,” Sofie joked.

“Alright, alright,” Gabriela relented. She picked up her hug-partner, drawing a surprised ‘nya’, and held her against her chest and shoulder. “But if I’m going, I’m going like this. I’m getting my two pies’ worth.”

Sofie had a feeling that Pari wouldn’t be touching the ground again for a good while.

*     *     *

“So Sofie, you still working on that ancient book?” Arlette asked between mouthfuls of meat pie.

“Book? What is this book?” Gabby interjected.

Sofie put down her spoon for a moment and leaned back on the wooden bench where she, Pari, and Samanta sat, with Gabby and Arlette occupying the other bench on the opposite side of the rough wooden table. Kozak’s was many things, but fancy was not one of them.

The place had a somewhat rustic charm, she had to admit. Outside of the stone floor—and the assumed basement beneath it—the building was built entirely from large wooden logs that left a bit of a rugged, intentionally unrefined look. Wood was not an uncommon building material in Wroetin—as the recent terrorist arson attacks sadly proved—but many buildings, especially successful establishments like this one, were at least half stone with wood filling in the gaps, not almost all wood like Kozak’s.

And successful the tavern most definitely was. Almost every table was full of people eating their fill... except the few closest to them. Sofie figured that her presence must be intimidating everybody else around them. Now that she was the closest thing Otharia had to a TV star, everybody would associate her with Blake and the regime to some degree. She understood everybody keeping their distance.

The clandestine glances, however, were starting to bother her, though in an “unwanted center of attention” way rather than a “fear for your life” sort of way. Sofie felt perfectly safe where she was. Arlette, a capable fighter, and Gabby, a monster with or without her weapon, sat just a meter away. Not only that, but her “bodyguard” skitter, as well as the two that arrived with Arlette, were stationed to the side of the tavern in a nearby alley. If anything were to happen, all Arlette or she had to do was hit the panic button in their pockets and all three robots would come storming in to their rescue.

“I found a book in an old ruin last year. It’s sort of a combination diary and research notebook, and it’s written in this ancient language that nobody knows how to read. I’ve been slowly translating it ever since, though it’s gone a lot faster since Arlette found me another book that has some translated ancient writing in it, which is why she’s asking because she’s fishing for praise.”

Arlette smirked.

“Though actually, I haven’t been able to get much done recently,” Sofie admitted. “I’ve been so busy with stuff like the children’s show that I haven’t had much of a chance to really bunker down for a few days and chip away at it.”

“That’s a shame,” Arlette replied. “I’m kind of curious what the final result will be like.”

“I’ll let you know when-”

The front entrance violently burst open and two dozen people rushed into the establishment, bringing the commotion in the restaurant to a sudden halt. A shiver of panic ran down Sofie’s spine as she realized they were each carrying swords or other weapons. Terrorists!

Slowly, so as not to catch anybody’s attention, Sofie reached into her pocket and pressed the panic button several times for good measure.

“This den of corruption dares to accommodate the Tyrant’s regime! For that, we, Othar’s Devoted, have decreed that all who patronize this rotten place shall be put to the sword and the corruption cleansed with fire! So says Othar!” one of the terrorists proclaimed. He raised his hand and summoned a ball of flame, only to suddenly slide to the floor with a throwing knife in his chest and a look of shock upon his face, the flame now extinguished.

That was all it took to trigger outright chaos in the room as everybody suddenly began to scream and try to escape. The rest of the terrorists rushed forward, their weapons striking out at the frightened customers. Only one or two other people seemed to have brought any weapons into the building, and even they didn’t seem too eager to fight.

Arlette, on the other hand, had weapons galore. After the zeppelin incident during the final Battle of Crirada, she never went anywhere without both her sword and an abundance of throwing knives on her person. Sofie had thought her overly paranoid, but now she felt glad as she watched the other woman pull another knife from beneath her outfit, sword already unsheathed and in hand.

Where were the robots? They were right outside, shouldn’t they have crashed through the wall or something by now?

“Arlette! Did you hit the button?!” Sofie asked hurriedly.

“Yes, something’s not right. Get behind us,” Arlette commanded Sofie and the children. She turned to Gabby and asked, “Can I count on you to watch my back?”

“I... I’ll try,” came the unsure reply. “I don’t want to...”

“Just do your best,” Arlette told her.

The two of them stepped forward, intercepting several oncoming terrorists. Sofie watched as Arlette and her doppelgangers danced through the pandemonium, her blade lashing out to slice a throat or a tendon. It seemed to Sofie that Arlette was very comfortable in the chaos of what was, in some aspects, an overgrown bar fight. Sofie had little doubt the ex-mercenary had ample experience in such situations.

Gabriela, on the other hand, seemed very out of place. Judging by the awkwardness of her movements, she didn’t appear very trained in bare-handed combat. Nor did it appear like she wanted to involve herself in violence. Sofie watched as she raised an arm to block a sword slashing down at her. The blade embedded itself deep into her flesh, carving all the way to the bone. Almost hesitantly, she shoved her other arm out, striking her assailant in the chest with her palm. Sofie could almost hear bones break as the terrorist flew backward and crashed into the side of a table, no longer able to fight.

Things were looking manageable. Five of the two dozen terrorists were down, leaving nineteen against Sofie’s side’s two, but those nineteen were spread out and distracted with attacking other fleeing patrons.

But then, a voice cried out.

“The Tyrant’s Pet! She’s here!” one of the nearer terrorists shouted loud enough for the others to hear. All at once, the remaining attackers turned and focused on Samanta cowering next to Sofie.

Sofie’s blood ran cold. What a fool she’d been. She’d thought that her fame was to blame for the buffer zone that had been around them, but she’d forgotten about Samanta. It was easy to forget, but outside of Blake, Samanta was actually the most famous person in Otharia. After all, she was the one person who had always appeared with him, including his first introduction which he’d started by dragging the dead body of Otharia’s leader in front of the whole nation. Blake had even mentioned once that in some circles, Samanta was even more reviled than he. It was one thing to be an Elseling, it was another to be Otharian and aid and conspire with an Elseling. The fact that she’d basically been forced into it by Blake didn’t seem to change their minds.

All this boiled down to the fact that the terrorists wanted Samanta dead more than anybody in the world not named Blake Myers. What was once a disorganized collection of attackers was not a focused collective hellbent on killing a girl who hadn’t even hit puberty yet. Suddenly, two people seemed like a little too few to have on their side, even if those two were Arlette and Gabriela.

“Sofie, get them out of here!” Arlette hollered, repositioning herself to better intercept the incoming enemies.

Sofie didn’t need to be told twice. With Samanta first, Pari in the middle and Sofie taking up the rear to best block anybody who got through, the three of them rushed for the door to the kitchens, hoping to find a back way out. Instead, they found another terrorist, a large middle-aged man with a bushy beard and a large beer gut.

Emerging from the kitchen just as they reached it, a short sword in hand, the man’s eyes lit up with malicious glee as he spotted the Otharian girl. Samanta froze in terror as he raised his arm to strike.

“Look out!” Sofie cried, rushing forward to pull Samanta out of the way, but Pari was faster.

“No kill Sammy-friend!” the child cried as she hopped up on a nearby table and leaped onto the man’s shoulder from the side without the sword, grabbing hold with one hand and locking her legs around his free arm. Sofie spied a metallic glint in her other hand, a sharp knife that she must have grabbed from the table when the fighting started. Caught off-guard, the man wasn’t ready for her flanking attack and was unable to fend her off in time to stop her blade as she sent it plunging down and forward from above her head, heading straight for the side of his unprotected neck.

But then Pari froze, the knife coming to a sudden halt just centimeters from the man’s vulnerable flesh. Pari stared at the knife with wide eyes, a tremor coursing through her body.

That was all the opportunity the man needed. Instead of striking forward at Samanta, he brought his blade around on the unmoving catchild.

Sofie watched in utter horror as the world seemed to slow down to a crawl. The sword entered Pari’s side at the height of her belly button and sliced clean through her intestines from one side to the other. Like a ripped bag of groceries, the child’s innards spilled out onto the man and the surroundings below, covering the area with her blood.

“No! Pari!” Sofie shrieked in shock and despair. She dropped Samanta on the spot and rushed forward, only to stop after a single step as an iridescent light burst forth, nearly blinding her.

The man began to scream.

Sofie’s eyes adjusted quickly, giving her an up-close view of the carnage as it unfolded. Everything that her dear sister’s blood touched blazed with an unearthly multicolored illumination that seemed to consume all that it came into contact with, the matter it touched seeming to evaporate up into thousands of motes of radiant rainbow light that drifted through the air like dandelion seeds on a warm summer day.

In any other scenario, Sofie would have stopped and stared in awe at the heavenly beauty of it all, for it truly was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, but beauty meant nothing to her right now. She rushed around the screaming, spasming, half-vaporized terrorist, avoiding the quickly growing luminescent hole in the floor, and grabbed her sister’s prone form by the armpits, being sure to avoid touching the startlingly corrosive blood leaking from her torso at an alarming rate. With a heave, she dragged Pari away from the kitchen entrance as quickly as she could, leaving a wide trail of blood that immediately began to disintegrate everything it touched, other than the girl herself, into more brilliant rainbow sparkles.

“Nonononononono, don’t die, Pari, please don’t die!” Sofie begged.

She turned back to the action to find that the battle had shifted dramatically. Pari’s injury seemed to have caused something to snap inside of Gabriela. Instead of the careful, almost skittish way she’d fought just a minute ago, she was instead brutally ripping limbs and even heads from bodies left and right as she ignored the dozen blades sticking from her body, a snarl of wild fury on her face. With this new Gabby on their side, the fight was as good as over.

“Arlette! Get a doctor!” Sofie cried to her friend, was already a step ahead and sprinting for the exit.

“Stay with me, sweetie,” she pleaded as she turned back to her beloved little sister, the words pouring from her mouth as fast as the blood poured from Pari’s torso. “We’ll get you healed up somehow! It’s going to be okay! Just don’t die! Please! Please don’t go! Please don’t leave me!”

Her words had no effect. Sofie could see now that it was already far too late. A trail of Pari’s guts tracing the path she’d been dragged lied scattered along the floor. Opalescent blood shined all around her as she stared up from the floor and met Sofie’s tear-filled gaze, the child’s eyes filled with pain and confusion. Pari’s lips moved weakly, her voice swallowed by the din, but Scyria’s workings meant that Sofie understood the child all the same, whether she wanted to or not.

“Was Pari good friend?” her sister asked with her final breath.

And then she was gone.