A Horrible Death
The immense force of weight nearly crushes her bones as she to the best of her ability and aid of her spirits attempts to leverage herself against the stony, algae infested surface at her back. The pain is alien and stingy at its core, Olivia does not know how distribute it as it rises akin to a compactor designed to demolish the stuff of metal and steel; the tiny insects, previously resident among the scaly coatings of the monstrosity, nags and bites at her aureate skin and digs underneath her fluorescently white nails. She knows in the depths of her heart that this is not the end, but if such the case would ever be, Olivia comforts at the thought of Magdalena being the soul with whom she stands next to and shares the immediate afterlife. She gazes at the white queen as they are offered relief from an otherwise certain death by the boy who all of his senses has lost to vicious bloodlust.

The madness within Aaron is absolute and cunning in its possession, wherein it asserts its will upon him and the horrid composition of fleshy molecules barely swallowed by the water that otherwise nearly drowns humanoid bodies. Olivia suffers nausea from the display of utter recklessness and bloodshed and she knows not what to vocalize or empathize; she is stunned. She saddens at the thought of her failure to contain the beast that once slept safely within the grasp of her beauteous manipulation, who would at the slightest whiff of her exquisite fragrance or at the tiniest sound of her mesmerizing voice abide by her every wish; it was no more. He derives pleasure from his villainous acts and to the world displays a hideous grin to which children of youth would petrify in terror. Olivia looks at him with disdain but also with concern, she feels betrayed yet relieved. She disengages her view of Aaron with overwhelming sorrow.

Olivia looks to her dearest beside her when Kimberly suddenly appears akin to some knight in shining armor, spreading admiration and concern for the pale girl, however nearly disremembering his now superior within the ranks of official matters of the Academy and war. She forgets and forgives the boy’s burst of hormonal priorities and rejoices in his self-imposed correction as to who that subsisted in his presence. The rejuvenation warms her golden stature with ardent remedies of ethereal attributes. Olivia is grateful, but her thoughts and empathy is disrupted by the monstrosity that before her and the white queen struggles to maintain its supremacy; the assaults by Aaron and Kimberly are vicious and vitality draining. The horrid creature suddenly utters an uncomfortably loud screech of some gurgling features that causes it to lose balance and flounder in the murky waters. Olivia flinches at the sound and draws Magdalena near her to embrace, arms around the white one’s neck, chilled by the waters about; she does not look at her friend, only the behemoth that before them for its life with every ounce of energy attempts to fight.

The Caudata faces the precipice of the endless void, confused and disoriented in its movements and decisions. Another strike, another attempt at its life, and it shall forever be no more.

Ambush
When the friends finally emerged from the depths of the Norton City underbelly, having fought monstrous creatures and bathed in waters that could only be described as foul, they were welcomed into the cold night by an entire battalion of Nautilus forces. Somehow they had known about the Guardians’ presence in the city and plotted their destination. The friends were staring into the barrels of tanks, they felt the heat from jetpacks hovering above them, dozens of hulking Nautilus Mechs, and their clothing and armor were dotted with myriads of red laser pointers. The odds were simply against them. Even if Olivia ordered her squad to act, they would barely bring down a third of the opposing force before they would be horribly gunned down by sheer, overwhelming firepower. The battalion general of the Nautilus forces ordered the WARG soldiers to place their weapons and armor on the deck and surrender. They had no other choice than to comply.

As their weapons and armor was carried away and the friends were secured by the enemy force, Olivia attempted to backtrack their steps in her mind to figure out where they could have been identified. They had been quite careful with not being spotted and they eliminated most of the soldiers that they came in contact with. However, the possibility of the Norton City armed forces being infiltrated did not escape her thoughts. There could have been someone amongst all those soldiers that the friends spoke to before entering the sewers that worked for Nautilus. Olivia quaked at the myriads of possibilities that could have led to their capture, even more so at what she could have done differently to prevent it. Their mission had failed and the most likely outcome of it all would be that Norton City would fall. She could not help but to feel that it was entirely her fault.

The friends were forced to wear black hoods on their heads to obstruct vision. From the ten minute, or so, ride in a personnel carrier, Olivia guessed that they had been brought to the outskirts of the city under Nautilus control. It was not until the friends had been brought deep inside some facility complex that their hoods were removed. They found themselves in an abandoned kitchen large enough to support dozens of personnel. An inactive freezer had been prepared as a temporary holding cell for the Guardians. The heavy door had been clad with electrified wiring on the inside in order to prevent them from breaking it down. Outside, in the kitchen area, several automated turrets had been installed and aimed at freezer door, in the event that the friends would break out. When that heavy, electrified door sealed shut with the friends inside, all they had was each other in the cold dark for the night.

Hours later…



A Trail of Blood *
The heavy door to the inactive freezer room in which they slept had been mysteriously unlocked. Olivia had suddenly sprung awake by some distant metallic sound coming from the myriads of hallways and spaces leading to the underground kitchen area. She could feel and sense a scent in the air that was oddly familiar to her, however mixed with blood and death. Olivia was closest to the door, even if the friends had slept next to each other in a giant pile of bodies to preserve heat. The freezer room may have been deactivated, but it was still frigid. The girl slowly happened upon her feet and peeked outside. It was with sheer terror that she noticed an extensive trail of blood leading from where the guard had been stationed outside the freezer room to some unknown distance at the other end of the kitchen. The blood was fresh. Someone had been there recently and opened the freezer room only to see at least Olivia. Why had she and her friends been spared whatever fate the unfortunate guard had to suffer?

Olivia faced away from the scene and snuck back inside the freezer room to where her friends were still sleeping. As silently as she possibly could, she woke them up one by one. The dark haired girl had no clue as to what was going on, and the fact that they did not have any weapons or protection made her even more cautious. They did not say a word. Olivia forced them to use tactical sign language as they slowly exited the freezer room, covering corners and dangerous angels from which they could possibly be attacked. They might have been unarmed, but they were not helpless. Even if they themselves were prone to forgetting it, most people around the world were constantly aware of Guardian’s superior knowledge of martial arts and their otherworldly strength and agility. Some of the friends were naturally more graceful than others in this field and Olivia made sure to utilize that. Kimberly had point. The rest of them picked up whatever props they could find to as weapons.

The atmosphere was moody and the friends witnessed something they had either never seen before or not experienced in a long time: wayward spirits. Every corner of the endless hallways and stairwells were crowded by lost spirits that wailed at each other and the friends as they passed them by. The innocent phantoms had no desire to seek refuge in either of them. The spirits had been ravaged and spat out again by something or someone, probably whatever or whoever that had caused the trail of blood and murdered every living being in the building except the friends. Olivia was genuinely terrified and every bone in her body was trembling. As they climbed a dark stairwell in an attempt to reach the surface, the friends could hear noises coming from the bloodied path that Olivia so desperately wanted to avoid. The thought crossed her mind: was it whoever or whatever had caused all of this or was it a survivor? It was a risk she had to take. If it was a survivor, she would never have been able to forgive herself for leaving him or her behind.

Olivia gave Kimberly the proper sign language to silently open the door which would lead them into yet another hallway with myriads of connecting rooms. The girl had no idea where in the city they were, if they were even in the city still. The ambush could have taken them anywhere, but they were not on Nautilus, that was for sure as they’d hear and feel the engines of that massive city-sized aircraft. The noises continued to sound from one of the connecting rooms. It sounds as if someone or something was rumbling through supplies or searching for something. The friends moved tactically down the hallway, covering each doorway and locks as they went. When they finally reached the entrance from which the noises could be heard, Olivia stopped Kim and took point herself. If something were to happen, it was going to happen to her, rather than anyone else.

Olivia carefully and slowly peeked inside the room. She could see the back of what appeared to be a bantam stature of some girl. It seemed improbable that this person had caused all of this horrid bloodshed and she did not appear to carry any official patterns or colors of any armed forces. When the girl shifted her attention to some cabinet files and the paper therein, Olivia caught a glimpse of her face—she could barely believe her eyes. Olivia instantly recognized who it was even if she had not seen this girl in countless of years, and the last time she saw her, the girl was but five years old or there about. If Olivia was not mistaken, this was Samuel Valentine’s younger sister. Olivia exited her cautious guard around the corner of the doorway and positioned herself in full view.

“Sofia?” the dark haired girl said.


Flashback: Helston

When was the last time she heard that laugh? Smelled that smell? Felt those hands? Safe within that protective, relaxed gaze? Sofia pawed at a ball of yarn. Night had befallen the town of Helston. Several years had passed since the beginnings of the First Contact war had reached their borders. Many villagers had passed away that night. Isaac the baker, Jasmine the tailor, Rufus the town beggar, and so many more. Friends had ceased and rejoined the lifestream as the xenomorphs wretched their bodies to and fro within their alien-like orifices. Sofia had seen them. Those limbs soon to become nightmares of the children. Although the monstrosities fresh in her mind to this very day, little could satisfy the loss of Samuel. Before the cursed xeno’s took him away, she remembered vividly of her brother fighting back one of those small, dog-like creatures. He promised her he would come back — to her whom hided away in the cellar like coward. That was all she was. A coward. While little could be expected from her ten year old self from back then, her friends — those her age — acted and died in defense of Helston. Now, there was nothing left for her here. An empty husk she had become with this place being nothing more than an anchor to her self-induced madness.

The wooden floor of her home creaked as her mother walked in. She could see it in her eyes. Despair mixed with annoyance. Her mother had tried to help her. Had her see the doctor. She didn’t understand, the worthless cow. “Sofia? Dear? Suppers ready. Father picked some fresh vegetables straight from the garden. Come downstairs?” Sofia remained as still as the statues forever locked on the town’s churches columns. Silent creatures all studying the tiny insects that scurried at their feet, vanity amongst the undesirables, and the illusions Samaritans hid behind for personal gain. She wondered what they thought. Surely the representations of the servants of Kami had thought? Or were they just spirits? Beings transcending humans in comprehension yet vulnerable to the wet appetites of the xeno’s?

“Sofia? I said dinner’s ready.”
“I heard you,” Sofia said. Her voice hard and blunt — betraying her youth. She tugged at the oversized blanket that warmed her from the warm night. Everything was cold. So cold. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat something.”

“I shall decide what I have or do not have to do. Not you!” Grieving. They all did it. A funeral for Samuel without a body in the casket. Many had come. What complete, insufferable annoyance they had all been. She wanted to claw the eyes out of the fat lady who scolded her brother day in, day out. Prudence the matchmaker. How awkwardly ironic that the single lady matched others together. Sofia hated her. “This normalcy, this calm, it’s sickening! People going about their days forgetting what happened years ago. Have you been to the cemetery mother? Graffiti. Vandalism. Hello? Tar and feather the one’s who did it! Noose them! Yet the constable — the new one — turns a blind eye. Why? The mayor’s son. Protected by his father’s reach, the affronts are glanced over. Oh, but don’t worry, I suppose the keeper has already cleaned them. The drawings.

“I can’t get the carnage out of my head. Can you mother? Everyone I knew is either rotting in the ground or left. Samuel’s friends even left. And I’m to remain here? With father and you? How spiteful the cursed Kami.” Sofia met the hard stare of her mother dead on. She wasn’t afraid. What worse could this … woman do that the creatures hadn’t already. Preparing for an argument, her mother surprised her by the softened expression she assumed. He hand shaking on the door handle, mother turned back and headed for the stairs. “We’ll … be waiting downstairs. Until you come. Father’s tired Sofia. Make him happy by hurrying along now.” The door closed gently behind the middle-aged woman. Sofia rested her arm on the chair. What did it matter if father was tired or not. She felt nothing for them anymore. Sighing, she looked into the corner. Unseen to those that it wished to remain hidden from, several figures emerged from the shadows — each a different rendition of her.

Her spirits. Taking on forms that it pleased, they were the only ones that understood her. Pale skinned with blackish pits for eyes, the spirit grinned sickly at her. The other, beautiful like her, remained quiet, its expression constant. They had come to her when nobody could. They were her medicine. Comfort in silence.

“At least I have you,” she said to the two spirits. Certainly, she felt more, but it was only these two that showed up. It frightened at first. The symptoms of schizophrenia often came with the mind blending reality and fiction together. All that nonsense was dispelled when she dealt with one of the mayor’s son’s cronies. For all that the village knew, he had disappeared one night. His body never recovered. “If I were to leave this cesspool of town, would you follow me?”

The pale-ish doppelgänger’s grin widened even more while the other gave a curt nod. Weird clicking sounds emitting from their throats.

Getting to her feet, she folded the blanket she was using and placed it neatly on the chair. “What was that picture? Of the old religion? Ah yes. The Last Supper. This shall be ours my dears. The mayor’s son shall be our final course. Save the most satisfying for the last. That’s how a real queen should dine, no?”

---

The City of Norton

Verena slid her dagger across a Norton soldier’s throat as her group moved through the city with relative ease. Having assumed a new name to shed away the attachments of her old life, she had been drifting from city to city, army to army. Up until now, she had no goal except to fill her lonely years with the vanities she had once sneered at. She reveled in chaos, death, and the thrill of near death by another’s rusted blade. This life suited her more than Helston could ever have offered her.

“You’re one sick bitch.” Verena looked back as a Nautilus soldier saw her handiwork. It wasn't sickness. It was art. Her art. “You don’t think this is overboard?”

She walked up to the soldier as the others shifted. She could hear the metallic scuffling of their rifles. She could taste their nervousness. She was an Aggressor after all. The unpredictable of their counterparts — the guardians. Slowly clasping her hand on the man’s chin, she pulled his face downwards to met her gaze. “Very few can appreciate the art that I create from another’s body,” she said. “Whether and act is sick or beautiful, that is subjective to the person who views it. You, a soldier who riddles the body of another with holes miss the aesthetics of the crimson liquid the courses through us all. How could you appreciate something like that? Silly man.

“Killing by one’s hands though.” She took a step closer to the soldier. She could feel weapons trained on her now. “There is beauty in it. Rejoice for it is not you who I was paid to kill. Do you know what your commander, captain, whatever has ordered me to do?”

“If you don’t unhand me, you won’t live to fulfill that order, Aggressor.”

Verena chuckled. The fear was music to hear ears. A symphony she could understand and savor. Her skin crawled and tingled. Simply delicious. “With the company of soldiers — namely you — we are to fight our way to the artillery batteries. Something about putting them under Nautilus control — even though your people already captured them. No etiquette was given to me. So, I shall deal with our enemies as I see fit. You are but a formality. A safeguard to your nation's investment. So, speak not a word and follow. That’s what you soldiers do, do you not?”

Gently slapping the man’s cheek, she stepped back as she heard the clicking of her spirits grow louder. She had learned to read them. She could tell when they were excited or when they were displeased. Right now, they were jubilant. A choir following the strokes of the conductor.

Without another word, she spun on her heels and continued to walk down the desolate street. There was another reason she was here in this despondent city riddled with acrid smoke and the dying. Several months prior, she had seduced a potato of a man whom held status in Tyria. The sweat and the sounds the man made — she killed him soon after. She enjoyed it, but she enjoyed the news much more. She followed the trail with the fanaticism of a blood hound. Finally, after years of wandering, she had found purpose. No more senseless killings, smuggling, using, and stealing. Purpose.

After passing a few books, the navigation officer behind her updated the group that they were headed the right way. Verena kept moving when a gunshot rang out. The power from the spirits gave her heightened speed and perception, which saved her. The Nautilus storm trooper behind her was not as fortunate. How stupid the man. Even she knew bunching up was a grave mistake. This situation was her case and point.

The storm trooper wasted no time in return fire. Their bullets peppered the building where the Norton defenders had set up. She counted a hand full plus a sniper from the fourth level somewhere. As the gunfire was focused on the storm troopers, Verena sprinted from cover as she made her way towards the Norton soldiers from the right.

She entered from the side with practiced stealth cultivated from the many break-ins she had committed. Appearing in the next room, she saw an opposing soldier firing onto her temporary allies. She snuck up quietly, clasped his mouth shout and rammed her blade into his spine. She held him like a mother would a child as he struggled for life, but it left him soon enough. Kicking his body away, she moved on to deal with the others in a similar fashion.

The Nautilus soldiers weren’t incompetent as she initially thought. Many of the Norton soldiers — battered down from earlier fighting it seemed — were dying from bullet wounds and other things. She dealt them death with the help of her spirits — imploding each from the inside, like confetti. She checked on that sniper she spotted from outside. She was already dead.

“Clear!” Verena was sitting on a bullet ridden couch as her companions joined her. One of the storm troopers gagged and threw up from the sight within. “Kami!”

“Took you long enough,” Verena said as she flicked away a piece of unknown substance. “Any of you injured?”

“Look at this place,” said a storm trooper. The same one that called her a ‘sick bitch’. She wondered what he thought now. “You did this … with you knife?”

Verena laughed. “With a temper. Woman’s temper mind you.”

“You’re barely old enough to be my daughter!” the soldier said. “For Kami’s sake, you shouldn’t be in this damn war zone! What you do is hardly normal. A temper? This is your magic, witch!”

“Tell me, my dear,” she said as she shifted on the couch. “Are you not a soldier?”

“Career.”

Verena’s spirits flickered into the plane where the other’s could see them. She heard gasps come from their masked mouthes. “Idealism or morality. They blind you to the reality of your line of work,” she said. “For instance, your country's invasion has taken the lives of many girls who could’ve been or are your daughter's age. Under the rumble, your mechs, your very boots, they die to people like you. What you lack — or do not want to believe — is the reality of your soldiering. Bitter realization no?” Parting her hands and giving a mock bow, Verena laughed and leaned back. “Allow me to be your guide for this cruelty. A reality that frightens the strongest on men but delights the most wicked.

“Now, onto these artillery platforms. Counseling, my dear trooper, wasn’t a service you paid for. Only death, death, and much more death.”

The rest of the journey was relatively uneventful as Verena surveyed the artillery platforms. The Nautilus forces that were stationed there were all but wiped out. The people responsible caused a mix of nausea, anger, longing, revenge, betrayal, and many other motions to churn in her stomach. She wanted to hit someone, kill someone, fuck someone, succumb to her episodes of substance abuse, anything to quell this feeling.

Samuel’s childhood friends were here. It took her everything in her power to resist going down there and attempting to kill all of them. She had spent so many years sealing away the memories of ‘Sofia’ and would rather die than have them resurface.

“That’s WARG,” said different storm trooper. Behind those masks they all looked the same to her. “So that’s why we hired on Aggressors.”

“You’re too loud!” Verena said as she fought to focus on the task at hand. As long as they stayed the hell away from her, it would be no problem. “Well, get on with it then! Go secure your precious hunks of metal.”

“Chill little lady,” the trooper said. “You’re coming down as well.”

“I have more important things to deal with,” she said. She got to her feet as she heard a weapon cock back. She looked back. She smiled. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Until our mission is done — or the Captain renders your services void, you are still under my command.” She really hated the trooper. He’d been giving her a hard time since she got here. “Either stay on mission or a summary execution will be carried out.”

Pulling out her daggers, Verena shimmered with energy as she pain coursed through her body. She teleported behind the farthest storm trooper as she quickly disposed of the woman and made her into a human shield. She threw her dagger at the other as she turned into a whirlwind of death. As the Nautilus soldiers slowly died, she teleported again behind the ‘bitch’ sayer. She worked slowly on him.

He was on his knees as she Verena breathed hard. Using the spell that kills to teleport had always left her so. “I’m not going to kill you.”

“But,” said the trooper. “I will. Once you le—“

The trooper’s mouthed clamped shut as Verena slowly stole the life that was left in the man as it channeled into her. Equivalent Exchange. A savior to her and her allies, yet it was a curse to others. It transgressed onto the territory of taboo arts. She kissed the man’s forehead as he crumpled over. “The greatest insult of all. Dying without a soul.”

---

*

“Sofia?”

Verena stiffened. Though she was warned, the name caught her off-guard. There were only a handful of people who knew that name. That voice. So sweet and beautiful to her ears yet crueler than father winter’s piercing icy gale. She had called them in - the WARG operatives. It seemed it was too much to hope that Nautilus would've taken care of them.

She turned around. “Serendipitous moments in life can cause one to fall into a state of rapture or a state of repulsion,” she said. Tears brimmed at her eyes as she fought the internal battle within. Joy overcame solitude while anger vanished kindness. A contrasting dichotomy, each fighting to overpower the other. “In this instance, it is the latter. Sofia is but a distant memory to me, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget you — particularly you Olivia. Or you lot.” A hint of curiosity entered her. “Is Magdelena still with you or has she moved on?”

Holding up a stack of papers, she mentioned to the hallways outside. “Before I forget, dear Olivia, did you enjoy the painstakingly prepared red carpet? I would’ve welcomed all of you personally, but you see? I was busy. Someone we all know was responsible. Oh, how crave to tear his eyes out and embrace him at the same time. A kinder treatment than the Norton and Nautilus soldiers received from me, I assure you.”

Olivia’s slightly smirked lips morphed and deformed into a state of bewilderment as the young girl of the long lost past spoke words that did not coincide with pervious, ancient conceptions of her being. The words were much more antagonistic than the aureate skinned, dark haired girl wanted to admit to herself. When Sofia mentioned Magdalena, Olivia made a gesture to the blonde that indicated not to reveal herself in the doorway. There was no way to predict any form of outcome at this point. Sofia was clearly not the person Olivia remembered from their days in Helston. Olivia’s heart began to pulsate rapidly when the young girl before her kept referring to someone other than herself as the cause of the mayhem they had witnessed, someone they all knew. Olivia feared what Sofia thought she knew or who she thought was responsible. There was no way that she meant who Olivia thought she meant.

“Sofia… who are you talking about?”

Pulling out her dagger, Verena chuckled as she came towards the table that separated the two. She saw the hesitance in Olivia’s eyes. Was she a friend or foe? That was the question. Slamming the point into the wooden table, she carved out a grotesque ’S’.

“Don't you dare use that name! Sofia, she was a weak little child. As for who? The very man you all grew so infatuated with. The catalyst of the withering of Helston. The cause of this … pain I feel. In my chest. It hurts,” she said. “But then I found solace in these spirits. You have them too don’t you? The power they give. Simply astounding. You’re part of WARG now. Congratulations. I’m sorry that Nautilus couldn’t have kept you locked away. I did warn them.

“I really didn’t want to see any of you. All the same, I killed the Nautilus soldiers I was with. Why? For fun — and for you lot. But I digress. Surely I’m not the focal point of interest. You wish to defend Norton. Commendable. But, the maestro behind all of this? The politicians of Nautilus? No. My dear Olivia, Samuel is not dead. Quite the opposite.” Verena pushed a couple of papers towards Olivia. “Don’t worry. I won’t bite — for now. Look at the last paragraph of that sheet. Not sure about the others, but there’s a phrase in there that only Samuel would use. Oh, don’t look so confused. Rearrange the words in the second to the last sentence.”

Verena clapped her hands together. “My brother has become something abhorrent yet ethereal. This orchestra of violence, it sings to me.” Remembering something, she turned away and smiled. "I do believe we’re at an impasse. I was contracted by Nautilus you see, and you all are with Norton. Are we to be enemies? To fight acquaintances is a sickening thought.”

Olivia refused to believe it. Everything that the girl said seemed impossible to be true, perhaps even some elaborate hoax or plot to lead the friends down a road to certain death. Olivia approached the table slowly and cautiously, some of her friends pouring into the tiny office after her, others waiting and guarding in the corridor with the trail of blood at their feet. The dark haired girl had to sit down, feeling winded and ready to pass out. The man she had been and was so obsessively in love with was alive, and apparently he had caused all of this bloody evil that they had pushed themselves through just moments ago. Olivia did not need much time to see what the paper had to say about what was supposedly Samuel. She already knew what he used to say: “I trust everyone. It’s the devil inside them I don’t trust,” Olivia said out loud, with a blank stare.

Olivia suddenly and violently pushed the table aside and approached Sofia, but without touching the girl, and yelled in her face: “Samuel is dead! I don’t know what you think you’re up to, missy, but these are malicious lies! Even if he was alive, he would never do something like this!”

Verena smiled as she turned around. Olivia stood before her. The frustration and disbelief was obvious through her eyes. But why would Verena lie about all of this? She had spent her whole entire life after leaving Helston in efforts to forget anything about Samuel. Even her parents. Her weak mother and father. The mayor’s son she had carved into the ground, everything.

She could only shrug. “I trust everyone. It’s the devil inside them I don’t trust,” Verena said. “Isn’t that what you found too? A coincidence? I think not. The words are far too specific to be random circumstance. Out of all the lies I’ve snaked into the minds of men, this is the one boundary I dare not cross. I’ve been following this trail for a long time my dear. Paved the way red to obtain it. I don’t care if you’d like to convince yourself otherwise. I’m going to track him down. Question him — you know a reunion — then return him to the tombstone in Helston marked ‘Samuel Valentine. Loving brother, son’ blah … blah … blah.”

Her heart aches and her bones crumble, unable to breathe and unable to move. She quakes in fear of the man that once to her had been the reason for which the stars and beauteous galaxies existed, who in her inspired the essence and meaning of anything that could ever be named synonymous to love.

“I…” Olivia sits stunned and mute, unable to speak.

Emily stood still, awestruck. She stared into the bleak eyes of the creature, even as the others attacked it. They didn't seem to notice her, too absorbed in the fighting, but neither did she pay any attention to them.

She'd never seen anything like the thing before her. Its grotesque, bulbous body, covered by a carapace of quivering, viscerous tendrils, was unflinchingly alien. It should have terrified her, but like so many things over the course of their journey from the Academy, it inspired little fear in her. In fact, it felt familiar, though the reason why eluded her adrenaline-addled mind. All she could do was stare at it, clutching her bo, frozen in beholding the malign wonder of the thing and wracking her brain for a memory that explained its familiarity.

The realization came as the creature writhed under the others' attacks. It came to her like the darkness always did, in her sleep, in sudden, absolute clarity. This thing, this creature - it was of that world, just as she sometimes was. It was kin to the things inside her, to the beings that had saved her life and taken others to preserve it. They were not precisely the same: The Caudata had no intellect, no real ability to plan or reason for itself, but they were related, just as humans were great apes. And it was related to her, too, if on a different level. Just like her, it was the plaything of something bigger and greater. It was playing a part scripted for it, only it had no real mind, no ability to control or temper itself as she could. Emily felt profound sympathy for the beast, though she knew it could feel nothing for her.

The others were screaming, racing around, trying to take it down as quickly as possible. She wanted to help them, truly, but she couldn't bring herself to hurt this thing. That was what they wanted, she realized. All of this was part of some plan, it had to be. Why else would this thing be here? Why else would they be the ones to fight it? She opened her mouth to scream, to tell the others to stop before it was too late, but in her delirium she was unable to produce even the slightest sound. The thing reeled, its scales sloughing off as Emily's friends destroyed it. They rained down towards Emily, massive, seething.

One struck her on the head; she collapsed to the ground. Another struck her squarely in the chest. She looked down to see pieces of it, covered in her blood, oozing over her skin.

Her last thought before slipping from consciousness was about her father. She'd forgotten, she realized, to call him before they left.

---

She had expected darkness, but found only light.

In many ways, it was like the void from her dreams. It was endless, as far as she could tell, absolutely all-encompassing. She floated in nothingness, transient against a backdrop of empty space. But it was different - where the void in her dreams was dark, silent and cold, this place was impossibly bright. The light should have blinded her. The sound, an impossibly loud, resonant tone, should have deafened her, and the heat that rolled over her body like waves should have burned her skin to ashes. It was as close as she could imagine to being at the center of a star. She wasn't heading into the light, she was already inside, and it felt like a terminus, a beautiful ending.

Relief washed over her mind. There would be no more fighting, no more conundrums, no more arguments or fears about the spirits inside of her. Looking back through her memory, now, she could see it all so clearly: How they had chosen her. How they manipulated her. How they fed her anger when it suited them, and then her cold resolve when that was what they needed. She could have been something different, something greater than what she was, if the spirits hadn't held her back. She'd never gotten that chance, but it didn't matter now, because she was free of them. Free to die - maybe already dead - and experience something else, something she was certain would be far better.

But the light began to fade. She was being pulled away, not back to life, but definitely out of this realm and into someplace else. Panic crashed through her mind. They weren't done with her; they were dragging her back. The spirits were trying to resurrect her. She didn't want to go back. Not for them, not even for Olivia, or Remi, or her father. She'd been okay with death; it had brought her warmth, and comfort. Now, she was falling back into the abyss. The darkness was all around her once more, leeching into her. She couldn't move, not even to scream. For the first time since the fight had begun, her senses came into focus. Her breathing was choked, but she managed to rasp out breaths. Her eyes snapped open.

Emily was lying on the wet sewerbed. There was blood all over her hands and the top of her fatigues. In the distance, she could see the hulking mass of the caudata dissolving into nothingness. Her hands, clenched over the place where the wound had been, covered not skin but some other fleshy substance, writhing under her touch. She knew it wasn't part of her, but she could feel it attached to her body. Neither was it from the dying creature, but it was something of a similar kind. It had saved her life, she thought - she had no reason to believe this, but she was sure of it. The others stood over her, staring down. She made a noise like a sob, but there wasn't enough air, and it just came out as a gasp. She wanted desperately to return to the light, but it had gone.

She lapsed into unconsciousness again, hoping it would return, but the void was waiting to greet her.

Flashback, 1 month prior to the graduation date, Oakridge Academy



____________________________________________________

Something which Jyn couldn't fully understand were her feelings for someone else. Of course, she wouldn't actually bother struggling with it if it wasn't necessary but if it would develop into something deeper, Jyn might actually have to consider on taking a serious note. His name was Chris and for reasons Jyn also couln't understand, his name alone had effortlessly attracted her in a very odd way. They were grouped together and was assigned to perform a special activity regarding their pre-graduation training. Supposedly, It was just a casual partnership wherein they should do what was needed to be accomplished. But after the activity, Chris had several casual hang-outs with Jyn which eventually made some of her friends think that they were actually dating. As much as for that small misunderstanding, Jyn actually liked the guy not only from his attractiveness alone but also from his kindness and sunny personality. There was a time when Jyn had actually mistaken him for Samuel but she then realized that no other person could ever be compared to him as he was the only one--specifically a male individual--who made her understand what it was to live life by loving someone.

She Still couldn't understand the feelings she was having recently, but even if she does, she wouldn't preferably like it in any other way. But it was bothering her and it kept her from preparing for the next following days which would be the grand evaluation exam. It's as if something which was helping her think properly was about to deviate from her system. Jyn needed some help, if anyone would bother giving some. Then she thought about going to one of her close friends whom she hoped to have some decent knowledge about the small problems that Jyn couldn't deal comprehensively.

Olivia. Even though Jyn has some close female friends whom she can freely share her problems with, Olivia was far the closest one among them. Jyn dug her room up to find her bag of personal belongings. Once found, she fished through some items until she fumbled her cellphone. She then brought her fingers rattling on the screen to send an immediate text:

Hey, Olive!
Mind if I come by to your room right now?

Love, Jyn~

Jyn laid herself down on the bed, setting up a blank gaze towards the ceiling and eagerly awaited for Olivia's quick reply.

Olivia was spending her Saturday afternoon in a fashion accustomed to individuals who were either obsessed with external properties or those who were forced into such vanities by the world around them. The girl was seated in her unmade bed in nothing much than a jersey that blatantly supported the Oakridge Academy team, painting her toenails with a fluorescent white coloration that shone with the strength of a star when contrasted with her aureate skin, all the while attempting to prevent the white sludge in her mouth that was supposed to bleach her teeth from mixing with her saliva and dripping all over the sheets. It was an awkward moment in that Olivia was somewhat preoccupied, without her face on and looking like a witch. However, her superficial needs came second to her friends’ desire to see her, especially Jyn. Olivia executed some ungraceful acrobatics and texted her dear girl back:

‘Not at all, hon
Come on over’

Once Jyn received Olivia's reply, she gave herself a dear reminder about the photo of Chris that she intended to show. She smiled as she found and viewed the file in her phone but regretted on doing so after taking her eyes away from it. As she warily lifted herself up from her bed, Jyn wore her sweatshirt before grabbing the keys to her room and leaving.

"I can't believe I'm disturbing someone just for the sake of my immature ignorance" Jyn mumbled, sighing a bit heavily afterwards

Minutes later, Jyn arrived; standing in front of the door which led to Olivia's room. Clearing her throat, Jyn knocked gently as she tried to show a warm and non-hostile mood.

The knock on her door came as a relief, as Olivia could finally spit the awful sludge out of her mouth that was burning the back of her already inflated lips. She had to be careful with where she decided to tread so as not to ruin the vigorous work she had put in on her toenails, but the three or four steps to the tiny bathroom in her room was surely not a problem. The girl urged Jyn to hold on for just a second while Olivia rinsed her mouth with water and attempted to tidy up her hair, so that it would not sprout in every direction akin to some feral plant.

Only a few seconds passed before Olivia opened the door and displayed that wide, fluorescent smile of hers. “Hello, darling,” she said and embraced Jyn as the girl entered. “Come in, come in,” Olivia continued. The room was the essence of chaos and destruction only ever relatable in the ruins of war. The golden girl could not help but to feel embarrassed and thus excused the mess: “Well… you know how it is,” she said and urged Jyn to have a seat somewhere, either on the floor or on Olivia’s bed — the options were limited.

"Would this be a good time?" Jyn asked, assuming that it was. Just by taking one short glance at the slight mess made Jyn a bit uncomfortable but she was eager to figure out her problems and solve it as soon as possible. "Okay, I'll just make this asking-for-a-favor thing really quick since I'm guessing you were in a middle of something and exams are on their way next week, can't you believe that?" Jyn then sauntered her way to the room and sat on a chair near Olivia's desk. Her thoughts were clouded for a moment, whether or not she would be direct to her point of coming over or just act slow which might become unnecessary later on. But as her thoughts were cleared out, she decided to just be direct about her problems.

Staring meekly at Olivia, Jyn forcefully struck a weak smile only to give obvious hints that something was bothering her.

"Hey, uh, Olive. Is it ok if I tell you something? Just between us, don't tell this to anyone" Jyn asked but wasn't intentionally waiting for an affirmative reply.

"I....uh.." Between the lines that she was attempting to say, her reluctance to admit anything became a slightly difficult task to follow up. "I..I think there's a person that I..." Jyn then hanged up for a moment God! why is this so hard to admit? I'm not a child anymore! "....like. Yes. There's this person that I actually like and I have troubles expressing my feelings towards it. I don't know, I think I might be having some mental problems but I came here to ask you if you know something about this." Jyn paused, pondering carefully about what she just said "And I assumed you do, so yes, I'm a terrible person but can you help me out for a bit?" Jyn smiled, still not genuinely-looking. "I need to figure out what the hell is wrong with me."

Olivia made sure to make Jyn feel welcomed by persuading her that there was never a ‘bad time’ for her to visit. Sitting on the side of her bed, kicking her feet up and down ever so slightly to speed up the quick drying polish, Olivia carefully heeded every word that came out of Jyn. It was written all over her and shining brighter than the sun itself, Olivia could see it before the girl had even thought about saying it, which is why Olivia’s lips mounted to a promiscuous smirk as Jyn spoke.

At the end of her request, or should one say confession, Olivia’s entire face smiled. “Aww, someone is in looove,” Olivia teased with a childish voice and chuckled. “Tell me, who is he? Do I know him?”

Jyn felt as if she was acting a bit childish with her confession and Olivia's expression was enough to tell her that. "No, it's not that I'm in-love or anyhing..." She was confused about what to say next in her defense. There was no path to escape what has been said. She could only hope that it wouldn't turn into something she feared, as though she would admit that she was actually in-love.

Jyn sighed, admitting a small surrender. "Never mind." Perhaps denying her feelings might prove she wasn't in love but she knew Olivia wouldn't be that oblivious. "His name is Chris. I don't know if you are familiar with him but he's like, obsessed with science. We were partners on a special activity last week. Since then, we often met casually, mostly at lunch or at the library. I don't know, he's really good-looking and all but..." Jyn scrolled her eyes down to her phone, then went to rattle her fingers on its screen to show the photo she was planning to show. Once she got it, she showed it over to Olivia and awaited her judgement. "And don't think I took this photo. He stole my phone for a moment and intentionally took a picture of himself. I don't know what's wrong with him but I also don't know what's wrong with me for not deleting it." Jyn carefully read Olivia's expression hoping she wouldn't again think that Jyn was in-love.

Olivia observed the shapes and forms of some handsome man who had taken a pretentious selfie with Jyn’s phone. The dark haired girl’s excitement had since settled slightly and when she was finished with inspecting the photo, she handed the phone back to Jyn: “Well, you like him… obviously,” Olivia said and began to look about her room for something to wear other than a jersey and panties. “So, why would you delete his picture? I mean, it’s a bit weird that he stole your phone to take a selfie, but I’ve seen crazier stuff than that,” she continued.

"Yes of course I like him but you see, I really can't understand why he took...." Jyn paused for a moment, cautiosly analyzing what she thought to have mistakenly said as she fumbled her phone on her other hand and placed it back in the pocket of her jeans. She stood up, slowly moving her gaze away from Olivia and glanced at a wall. Then her thoughts went back to what she previously said. Eyes squinted abruptly followed by a heavy sigh "Olive, tell me if I'm really out of my mind, because I think I might be." Jyn turned her head, glancing back at Olivia. "Do you think this might be some sort of disease?"

Olivia immediately stopped what she was doing, the clothes could wait. She shifted her attention to Jyn and approached the girl, as it was obvious that this was no laughing matter or fun and games. Olivia gently placed her hand on Jyn’s cheek and gazed deeply into her eyes, following the irises of the girl’s every movement: “Look at me,” Olivia said, “You’re not crazy and you don’t have a disease. What in the world makes you think that? — Because you like this boy? So what?”

A frown was drawn to Jyn's face but it was showing her sincere agreement to the things Olivia said. "Yeah you're probably right. I think I'm just making things a lot more complicated for myself. Maybe I just need to be sincere with my feelings and admit that I really do like him." She then inched back slowly and returned to sit on the chair. "He's really a nice guy...annoying at times but there's not much of a problem I can see being with him." Jyn grabbed a pen lying on Olivia's desk and playfully spun it around with her fingers. "Do you think it's alright for me to tell him what I feel? I know I might be doing stupid things but It's been a very long time since I felt something like this."

The aureate girl slips into a pair of phthalo jeaned treggings that tightly caresses her bipedal structure, and she changes her upper exterior to fit a sleeveless top. She attempts to tidy her benighted hair once again, but unsuccessfully so and thus surrenders to her ignorance of vanity and superficial things. Olivia sits on the precipice of the furniture of which the purpose is quiescence, however now chaotic and lacking tranquility; her feet balances on the chair native to her dear friend: “You can’t just let him have it without earning it, sweetie — that’s just not on the elemental chart. Make him buy you dinner, or take you shopping, or something,” she speaks.

The pen was dropped carelessly, landing abruptly on the desk where Jyn sat beside. "Wouldn't that make it much mor..." Jyn halted the moment she realized that Olivia's suggestion was a fact. "You're probably right but I do recall him asking me out to something whenever we meet each other. Call me an idiot but I was completely clueless about his attempts and I was a bit scared to say something childish so I just acted pretentious and told him that I was busy, which I am not." Jyn picked up the pen and went to do the same thing with it again. "Don't you think I missed out an opportunity? I think I just did." Jyn turned to look at Olivia who seemed to be slightly struggling with something regarding the things she was partially attending to.

Olivia effortlessly pushes herself into the bantam bathroom where a sufficiently presentable mirror reflects her image. She rumbles around her collections and finds that which can thicken her lashes and highlight her features enough to impose the illusion of a beauteous appearance. Olivia hears Jyn speak her words of doubt and disbelief and replies upon exiting to where she can see her: “Missed an opportunity? Hon, you’re the opportunity, not him. Call him up, ask what he’s doing, but don’t say anything about going out or whatever.”

"Gee Olive, I don't think I'm a sacred human being" Jyn said jokingly then brushed herself off with a short chortle. She then dropped the pen after a sudden whirl. Afterwards, her gazed followed to Olivia's movements which then made Jyn thought about her sudden negligence for studies. A few seconds of silence went on within the room but then broke soon as Jyn stood from her seat and cleared her throat. Olivia seemed to be resuming of what Jyn assumed to be a make-over before bedtime. "Hey Olive," Jyn's steadfast stare towards Olivia made it obvious that her next line would be her appreciation. But she thought something greater might be necessary. After all, Olivia's advice seemed to give Jyn an idea on what to do next if given the chance to meet up again with the guy. "Thank you, I really do apologize if I acted like a child who doesn't know how to deal with personal problems." Jyn took a few steps towards the door, still maintaining a sincere expression towards Olivia. "I think I'll be honest If I meet him next time. But for now, I'll just give him a good luck message for the evaluation exams next week." A smile was drawn to her face, not exactly her best one but doing so somehow gave her some decent confidence.

Before walking past the door, Jyn took a moment to give Olivia a quick sharp hiss. "Come have lunch with me tomorrow." She said, her voice sounding a bit coarse. "My treat, don't worry." it was obvious to say that it was something that Jyn wanted to repay for and thus, she slowly stepped out from Olivia's room.

To be continued

----- Post Boss Fight I -----
He wasn’t sure how long he blacked out. It could have been a few seconds or a few minutes, but when Kimberly came to, it was dark. He was also suffocating and the dirty water filling his helmet was not helping his lack of oxygen. Kimberly sat up quickly and attempted to detach the helmet with the method he was used to, but was just as quick to realize that the weight of the Caudata had crushed and mutated his helmet in such a way that it was impossible to remove it through normal means. So the giant ripped the damn thing into two and jettisoned the now useless piece of metal to the ground. There was never a time in Kimberly’s life that he appreciated the rancid smell of sewage. It was air and his body needed it badly. A few breaths later, around the time the pain overrode the lack of oxygen, Kimberly also discovered that the rest of his body needed healing: pieces of his armor had dents in it and cracked under the pressure of the xenomorph. The battle armor was just too uncomfortable to wear anymore.

Kimberly surprised himself by how calm he was. Were they not in the middle of a battle? Why, yes they were. Kimberly turned his head to look at his surroundings, then relaxed. The Caudata had been defeated during Kimberly’s momentary inactivity. The fact would have colored him red with embarrassment had the badly wounded and unconscious Emily not crossed his optics. All the initial signs of shame and the feeling of pain slipped the giant’s mind as he ran straight towards her, “Emily!” The checking of her vitals and his hearing told Kimberly she was still alive. He would heal as much of her as he could ---and he did--- however, there was only so much that could be done in the sewage. “We need to get her out of here,” Kimberly told his friends. He was ready to pick her up when his ribs reminded him that Kimberly had been crushed by an extremely heavy creature not too long ago. The raven-haired man winced from his injuries, even though it was an action that was not going to help him ease the pain.

The giant ended up exhausting himself from healing as many and as much of his friends ---and himself--- as he could before the group ascended from the depths of Norton City to the surface. WARG was obviously not in their best condition, once they returned to the command post they needed medical attention and rest. If they couldn’t spare anyone, Kimberly told himself that he would treat his friends himself. All they needed to do was get to the surface and head to the base. Then everything would be all right.

Oh, but how he was wrong. So very wrong.

---

----- Ambush -----
When Kimberly saw the Nautilus forces, the face of the Storm Guard (Delta) that he had spared crossed the giant’s mind. Had the soldier managed to safely meet up with his allies? If he did, it was much too fast. That or the Nautilus forces already knew where WARG was. Either way, Kimberly prepared for his roommate’s tirade that he was sure was about to begin. Yet, he was surprised by Ghost’s silence. As a matter of fact, Kimberly would receive the silent treatment from his own hallucination for the remainder of the day.

After his teammates surrendered and a number of Nautilus soldier had to assist Kimberly out of his own armor ---a processes which resulted in Kimberly getting hit across the face when he showed the slightest hint of resistance as the soldiers confiscated a part of the armor with the compartment with his “offerings” still inside it---, the enemy force covered their heads with black hoods. As much as this blinded them, Kimberly’s ears could still pick up the noise around them. He listened carefully as the group was taken away to a facility where they would spend the night inside the cold kitchen freezer. Kimberly made another attempt at healing everyone as much as he could, before falling asleep.

---

----- A Trail of Blood -----
The calm waves of the blue ocean gently submerged his feet into the water, then retreated back to where they had came from. He felt the gentle wind caress his person and the sun warm his body. Kimberly was at the beach ---a beach that reminded him of, but was not quite like, the beach he and his friends had traveled to about a year ago--- with a few other people a short distance away from him. The group of people where holding each other’s hands and rotating in a perfect circle as they sang a famous nursery rhyme with smiles on their faces. Kimberly was positive that he did not know the people in the circle, yet they felt oddly familiar. When Kimberly approached the group, they invited him to join and resumed their playground singing game.

Kimberly did meet these people, however briefly the encounter may have been: they were the Storm Guards WARG killed in combat when they reached Rimoux. Although, the Storm Guards did not seem to recall or mind that “minor” detail. The dead soldiers and Kimberly span around happily until they heard someone call out, “Natalia!” The group stopped their circle dance to allow the one named Natalia to break away from them and run towards another woman holding a small girl in her arms. The woman embraced the other two lovingly. One by one, other groups of people started to call their loved ones over to them and all Kimberly could do was watch the once perfect circle crumble into a singular dot: Kimberly. Casing a huge shadow down below, Nautilus appeared from the clouds and hovered above them. A column of light beamed down towards the ground and all, except Kimberly, were slowly lifted up into the air. Close to their family and lovers, the Storm Guards floated back home.

A bright orange fabric covered Kimberly’s eyes. Disoriented, he struggled to find his way out of the cloth maze, but when he was finally free from it, he saw his grandparents smiling at him.

“There! Perfect!” Michaela exclaimed as she straightened her grandchild’s orange garment. “I knew you would look great in this,” she turned to her husband, “don’t you agree?” Clair, a much more masculine version of his “grandmother”, smiled approvingly, “you look absolutely stunning, pumpkin.” He chuckled, “and no, I didn’t mean that as a pun.”

“Orange must be your color,” a voice, that made Kimberly turn around in surprise, said. Samuel was standing right in front of him, studying Kimberly closely in the new outfit. Samuel wasn’t alone. Everyone was there: Olivia, Emily, Royce, Katherine, Aaron, Jynette, Magdalena, Remiel, Thael, and Fredrick. The whole gang around age eight. Samuel’s gaze landed on Kimberly’s feet, “are you sure you’d be able to play in those?” Kimberly lifted one of his legs to see that he was wearing sandals. He then looked up to see Samuel grinning mischievously at him. “Cause, tag! You’re it!” Kimberly’s childhood hero tapped Kimberly on the shoulder and ran off with the rest of their friends down one of Helston’s main streets, laughing as they did so. “Hey!” Kimberly’s shouted, before he ran after his friends.

The innocent game lasted only for so long. The distance between him and the group grew with each step. The faster he ran, the farther they went ahead. He tried to catch their attention by yelling, “guys! Wait! Wait for me! I’m still here! Don’t leave me behind!” They either couldn’t hear him, ignored him, or completely forgot about him, because they went on without Kimberly.

The blue sky turned into red. The relatively clean and peaceful town transformed itself into a town of chaos and death. Fire, gore, and screams are sprinkled throughout Helston. But the children never stopped. They continued to play their games, oblivious to their surroundings. However, Kimberly knew better. It had become increasingly apparent that he was not playing tag anymore.

And if he was… he was not “it” no longer.
The creature chasing him ---hunting him down--- was “it”.
Kimberly was running for his life.

Kimberly was a complete mess: his orange dress was covered in dirt and ripped in certain places; the sandals were completely ruined, one lost somewhere in the town during the chase and another barely on his foot; his sand beige skin had multiple cuts; and his golden hair was wild ---free to do what they wanted to do.

He tried to scream for help, but his voice was lost to him. It did not matter how many or how much he tried, no one heard his voice. No one came to help him. No one even noticed him.

<She> sobs alone, behind closed doors, when <she> thinks no one can hear her. If there are others around, <she> pretends to be fine by putting on a mask. A mask that covers <her> bleeding scars. But they heard her; they always heard her crying for help.
Kimberly could feel the creature closing up on him. He could feel its body heat and breath on his back. Death licked its lips as its hand rose up high into the sky and then straight through Kimberly’s body.

Everything from then on occurred in slow motion. Blood and organs that were not supposed to be outside of a living being’s body slowly spilled out of him. Despite being sliced into two, Kimberly did not scream in agony. No, the Caudata running beside him did the honors of screeching.

Kimberly looked at the horizon that his friends vanished into and he felt his vision blur from the tears. He was going to die. And he was going to die alone.

But he heard <her> cries for help.
Someone called his name. At first, he couldn’t see anyone, but then up from the horizon, Kimberly saw --- come back. --- came running back for him.

--- called his name again.

More tears obscured Kimberly’s vision. The tears did not come from the pain, even though it was unbearable; or from the fear of death, although it scared him to no end; or even from the loneliness he felt when he was left behind. It was tears of joy. He was slightly worried that --- risked --- own life to come looking for him, but he was happy.

Without his lower half of the body, Kimberly couldn’t do much more other than to extended his arms as far as he could to be one nanometer closer to ---. He knew the whole thing was pointless: Kimberly would be dead by the time he hit the ground and --- would not be able to do anything about it, but he did it anyways. He reached for ---. Even if they may never be able to embrace each other like the dead Storm Guards and their families did, he was still happy.

He was happy that he was not completely forgotten.
He felt guilty for making --- make such a face, but he still smiled.
--- was happy to see --- one last time.

Darkness descends upon them.
A warm hand holds --- hand.

“Kimberly.”

Olivia shook the giant who was stupid enough to “sleep” sitting on his thighs and have his eyes opened, staring vacantly at the freezer door, throughout the night. It was a mystery if Kimberly had actually slept. “Kimberly,” Olivia whispered as loud as she could.

The once dilated pupils became undone as Kimberly “woke up”. He turned his head towards his captain and blinked once. He felt his eyes burning. He must have been keeping them wide open for a long time. Kimberly blinked some more to get his eyes moist again.

Olivia looked relieved once she saw the giant moving about. He briefly apologized, but then was silenced by a finger to the lips. Olivia pointed at the open freezer door and signed to him that they were leaving and that she was going to wake the others up. She pointed down at Kimberly’s lap, then left the slightly confused giant. Kimberly chased her with his eyes for a moment before looking down at his lap.

On the floor in front of him, Kimberly saw Ghost lying down on his side, staring at Magdelena who used Kimberly’s lap as a pillow as she slept. Ghost just stared at the petite woman as his hand tried and failed multiple times to hold hers.

Morning.

Ghost’s lips formed the word “morning”, but he did nothing more and resumed his attempt at holding a real person’s hand. Kimberly only watched for a few seconds before focusing on Magdelena. He petted the white dragon’s hair. She began to stir, but was not quite awake. Kimberly whispered her name a number of times and moved his hand to her shoulder to rub it. “Maggie, it’s time to wake up.” He watched the smaller woman’s eyes flutter open. When their eyes met, she seemed surprised to see Kimberly in front of her. He stuck his pointer finger to his lips and pointed at the freezer door, signing Magdelena what Olivia had just told him a moment ago.

---

At first, he thought he was going to be fine: the world looked relatively normal and, although Ghost’s silence bothered him to some degree, Kimberly thought that it was going to be one of those rare occasions where he would not experience a hallucinogenic episode. But the second the group encountered the wayward spirits, he instantly knew that they needed to find his medication soon.

In Kimberly’s eyes, the spirits were people, monochrome no-longer-living statues that were frozen in the position they had died in. Red paint was splattered all over the place, and in the middle of the hallway was a little girl holding a paintbrush soaked in red. When he saw the girl, Kimberly initially thought she was a survivor and was ready to approach her, but then quickly shot the idea down when he saw Samuel appear from behind the little girl. His childhood hero approached Kimberly and lightly tapped him before running off, “you’re it!” The little girl giggled and ran off with him.

Kimberly reached out his hand and paused to look at it. The giant’s hand looked nothing like he remembered: it was feminine and of a darker skin tone than that of his own. In fact, he was not in his blue uniform any more, but a bright orange dress that he had saw in his dream. He even had the sandals on. Kimberly sighed deeply and brushed his curly gold hair away from his face. This can’t be good.

Ghost said nothing. He hadn’t voiced a single word since they left the sewers.

Kimberly glanced over at his roommate and was surprised to see him slightly trembling. H-hey… Are you all right?

Even Ghost’s voice was trembling when he finally spoke, “if I’m your imagination.” He showed Kimberly his best smug smirk as beads of sweat appeared on his skin. “I’m fine as long as you image me fine.” That was a hard task to do when Ghost didn’t look good at all, but what could Kimberly do? It was not like he could heal his roommate or tell his friends that Ghost wasn’t doing well. So he reluctantly proceeded onward.

As the group continued forward, Kimberly saw the little girl multiple times, giggling and splashing red paint around. He felt as though he recognized the girl, but was not quite sure until it suddenly hit him. Sofie? The little girl froze and turned only her head slightly towards Kimberly. What little of he could see of her face expressed distaste. He tried again, Are you Sofia? The girl snapped and turned completely around to scream at Kimberly, “DON’T CALL ME THAT! I’M NOT SOFIA ANYMORE!” A few beats later, little Sofia was smiling again. She spread her arms out, “I’m an artist!” Kimberly watched the self-proclaimed artist slash her brush cross one of the monochrome statues and slit its throat open. Red paint squirted out and dripped down the unmoving victim. Sofia laughed maniacally and continued to “slaughter” all the remaining statues, painting the hallways red as she danced away.

The corridor around Kimberly began to shift and change. The unknown facility started to morph into a place that he could easily recognize: Helston. It was a perfect replication their childhood hometown minus the bright red arrows that only Sofia could have painted. He started to follow the red arrows, but with every step, Kimberly became confident that he knew where the arrows pointed. Soon, he didn’t need the arrows to guide him anymore. Even when he saw Samuel’s back in the distance, he did not run after him like he did in his dream. There was not reason to rush: it was a place that every person would end up being at. Although Kimberly had no idea where they were in reality, in his imaginary world, WARG was walking into Helston’s cemetery, advancing towards Samuel’s empty grave. As they got closer, Kimberly saw Sofia looking down at what he assumed was her brother’s gravestone. Before the group could get any closer, however, Olivia gestured the giant to stop and went on ahead alone.

While he waited patiently for their captain to give them a sign, Kimberly turned to look at the group to see how well they were holding up. And saw Ghost having a panic attack.

Kimberly didn’t know it was a panic attack at first ---not with the muted sounds of his visually obvious hyperventilating. It completely shocked Kimberly that he heard absolutely nothing. Ghost didn’t look well, but there was no reason to believe that he was doing this badly. Ghost was hunched over, one hand grasping at his chest and the other over his pale and sweaty forehead, almost as if he was experiencing a heart attack and stroke simultaneously. Kimberly stood there stunned and at a loss. What could he do? Had Ghost been a real person, he wouldn’t have been standing around like an idiot, but what could one do for an imaginary being? Imagine it back to health? He already tried that a half a second ago and apparently he had terrible imagination, because Ghost’s condition did not improve at the very least. Not only did Ghost condition not improve, but Kimberly’s hallucinations decided it was the best time to make things worse.

Hundreds of long chains shot out from the ground and wrapped around Ghost, binding him. If that was not weird enough, the ground beneath Ghost began to liquefy, making the chained man sink into it. When Kimberly’s mind ---or whatever force that determined what kind of hallucinations Kimberly would have--- decided that Ghost was not sinking fast enough, a bottomless iron cage came falling down from the sky and landed on top of Ghost. It steadily sank into the ground, dragging Ghost down along with it.

How bizarre it must have been for the others to witness a bear of a man, throwing himself to the ground, scratching at it as if there was something that he needed to get out the hard floor. In the back of his mind, Kimberly knew how absurd this was: it was absolutely nonsensical to try and rescue a person, who did not exist in the real world, drowning in his hallucination. He couldn’t help it. It may not have been a particularly smart thing to do, but he felt that it was not the wrong thing to do either: even if his efforts were fruitless. Kimberly ended up watching Ghost be engulfed by the ground and taken far from ---or possibly deep within--- Kimberly. He called out to him a few times, but gave up rather quickly when all he heard was silence. What just happened? Did Kimberly do that? Why didn’t this kind of this happen before then? Was it because they defeated the Caudata? Or was it where they were that affecting him?

His questions were cut short when he felt like he was being watched by some---… thing staring at him. Cautiously, Kimberly turned his head around and saw a teenager talking to Olivia in the imaginary graveyard with an army of humanoid creatures with rounded mirrors as faces ---and vaguely reminiscent of little Sofia--- facing WARG. One of the creatures had teleported extremely close to Kimberly and was looking down at him, curious at what it saw. The giant was also confused at what he saw reflecting off the face of the creature: a blonde woman, mimicking the same confusion Kimberly expressed.

Olivia’s sudden outburst made Kimberly turn away from the mirror and glance at the two women. “Samuel is dead! I don’t know what you think you’re up to, missy, but these are malicious lies! Even if he was alive, he would never do something like this!”

As the teenager turned around, Kimberly’s eyes fell down to the headstone engraving the teenager stood near by. Despite being the place where Samuel Valentine’s grave should have been in the real world, instead, the name “Samuel” was replaced with “Sofia”. Little Sofia reached over to the headstone and began to paint “Verena” right above Sofia’s name. The girl turned to Kimberly and smiled so widely that each end of her mouth reached her ears, before she got up and walked inside the teenager.

“I trust everyone. It’s the devil inside them I don’t trust. Isn’t that what you found too? A coincidence? I think not. The words are far too specific to be random circumstance. Out of all the lies I’ve snaked into the minds of men, this is the one boundary I dare not cross. I’ve been following this trail for a long time my dear. Paved the way red to obtain it. I don’t care if you’d like to convince yourself otherwise. I’m going to track him down. Question him — you know a reunion — then return him to the tombstone in Helston marked ‘Samuel Valentine. Loving brother, son’ blah … blah … blah.”

Although Kimberly was too disorientated for a majority of the women’s conversation to be completely aware of what happened, there were two things that were clear: 1.) There was a high possibility that Samuel lived and 2.) Kimberly needed to take his medication as soon as possible.

Flashback: Samuel’s awakening
“Readings and vitals are stable. We’re ready to begin, Doctor.”
“Excellent — administer 06-GH1 and then prep the table.”
“Yes, Doctor.”

The machines and contraptions which imprisoned his life and consciousness suddenly began to alarm their loss of control. The myriads of doctors and assistants around him panicked and succumbed to confusion as to how it was possible for him to on the path of awakening be. They screamed at each other incomprehensible medical methods of putting him under again, as his body began to tremble and his lashes began to flutter in and out of awareness.

“How is this happening?! Quickly! Contain him!”
“We don’t know, Doctor! His readings were fine just moments ago; this is coming from somewhere else!”
“Watch out!”

The man who was previously in chains broke himself free by sheer will and force well beyond what for him was norm. His roar was loud and deep and echoed throughout the deadened halls of the underground, covert research facility. In his delirium, he reached for whatever objects of sufficient lethality that he could grasp with his senses and proceeded to slaughter every last one of the personnel that were locked inside the transparent glass chamber with him. When all had fallen beneath his might and hate, his skin was no longer light; it was of various crimson shades native to the people he had gotten to know for several years. They were suddenly nothing to him — ants beneath his feet, specks of dust. His consciousness was no longer clouded by whatever curse that had previously forced him to humanity. He had finally awakened from a slumber crossing countless of physical bodies and years of imprisonment on this wretched planet.

Samuel did not know where or when he was as he crawled out of an exhaust pipe in the middle of the frozen tundra, covered by a thick layer of snow that spanned as far as his eyes could see. For nine times the space that measures day and night, he traversed a vast unknown. Across endless expanses of snow he trod in agony. Over jagged mountains clad with the bones of lost wanderers, within caverns where appalling creatures dwelled, and through bedlamic blizzards that tore his clothes he struggled with only a faint voice in the distant winds as his guide. Suddenly, one day, a horrid figure appeared before him. He had never before seen or remembered such a bizarre creature that could speak.

“Who are you?!” Samuel inquired, trembling in fear.
“Oh, not all there yet, I see.”
“Answer my question! — Demon!”
“Oh, a demon am I? Did he take away your ability to reason as well?”
“What do you want with me, creature?”
“I have a task for you, Barthandelus.”
“I do not know of whom you speak! My name is Samuel.”
“No, it is not, but we will get to that later.”
Samuel attempted to ignore the figure and continue his trek back to civilization.
“Not so fast, boy.”
“What do you want with me?!”
“Like I already said, I have a task for you.”
Samuel stood silent.
“The time has come to set things straight. When you remember your true name, know that I have asked of you to retrieve Phyrexia. You have heard of this relic many times before.”
“I do not know what you are talking about, foul creature. Leave me be.”
The dark figure yielded and allowed Samuel to pass him.
“Just remember what I have said to you here.”


Sewers
Olivia beheld everything that transpired — Aarons struggles with his inner demons, Kimberly’s valiant efforts to protect those of his equal, Magdalena’s and Olivia’s own attempts at destroying adversary, and then Emily’s fall to darkness that revealed the disturbing truth. Through Olivia’s inspissated lashes she laid her cerulean eyes upon baleful spirits hovering about their presence and then seeking refuge within Emily’s body, morphing it in the process. The wound that Emily had suffered became infected by some eldritch sprout of slimy, ebony shades. It emitted a foul odor as Olivia approached and sat down on her knees beside Emily, gently placing a palm on the girl’s forehead — it felt warm and feverish, shifting in coloration as the freckled girl slipped deeper into some alien trance. Olivia slowly stroked Emily’s hair backwards from her forehead as Kimberly did what he could with his medicinal abilities. There was no denying that Olivia was furious within the depths of her heart, but she was unsure as to why. Emily was her dear, beloved friend, but Olivia had just witnessed her absorbing a xenomorphic spirit — it was against every possible rule and moral that the dark haired girl believed in.

Olivia concurred with Kimberly’s suggestion of getting Emily out of the sewers. There was no sense in preaching her own sense of ethics concerning xenomorphic interactivity, and by doing so delaying Emily’s recovery even further. “You’re right, let’s get out of here,” Olivia said. Remiel insisted on carrying the injured girl, and so it was. Olivia was, however, infinitely more concerned with what had actually transpired moments ago and why it did not seem to register with anyone. She glanced at every member of the squad to see if she could catch a glimpse, eye contact, of someone with which these events did not sit well. However, the dark haired girl also had to consider the possibility that the spirits which Emily absorbed had recently been consumed by the creature, but it did not explain the vile growth in her wound. Olivia decided to keep her mouth shut for now and deal with it once Emily was well enough to explain herself.

The Facility: Meeting with Sofia
Olivia stood up and pushed the worn office chair to the corner of the bantam room where Kimberly had positioned himself. She did not know much about mental disorders or the hallucinations of which Kimberly was accustomed, but she did know a person that was not well when she saw one — especially when they decided to cast themselves onto a hardened floor without any reason whatsoever. Besides, she had dealt with Kimberly’s episodes a few times before at the Academy, so this was not the first time that Olivia had witnessed his strange behavior. The only difference was that there was nowhere or no one to turn to this time; she had to deal with it herself.

“Have a seat,” Olivia said and guided the man who stood many leagues above her own height to sit down. She gently placed the tip of her fingers underneath Kimberly’s chin, amongst the furry beard, and urged him to lift his head up straight. Olivia then proceeded to examine his eye movement as she said “Look at me,” and feel his pulse. These were the only things she knew about, as she had done it before, but Olivia felt as if she had no idea what she was doing nonetheless. “Kim, do you have your pills with you? Where are your pills, Kim?” Olivia repeated herself, not sure if the boy was with her in the moment – for all she knew, she appeared a talking raccoon to Kimberly.

Olivia shifted her attention to Sofia and everyone else for just a moment. However, still paying close attention to Kimberly. “Alright, let’s for one second say that I believe you — where is he and why is he doing this? What could he possibly gain from killing all these people in cold blood? Why didn’t he come back to us? I mean, do you know anything at all?”

[size=4]In the sewers: Fighting Caudata[/size=4]

The world finally made sense, here in the dank and depressing hole in the ground it all finally clicked into place. As Aaron darted around the massive creature each slice of his blades, every impact from furious winds, he could honestly say that he had never felt more alive. The howling laughter and maddening look only proved to everyone in the room that this was no longer the childhood friend that they had come to know and love. The sound of tearing flesh and crackling bone drew Aaron's attention down to Fuzzy, who with all of the strength that he could muster began tearing the limb of the giant creature from the bulbous monstrosity only to have it attempt to roll on top of him. Seeing an opportunity present itself Aaron darted back to the ground and charged the massive creatures belly and unleashed another devastating gust of wind into its soft underbelly, subsequently leaving the monstrosity all but completely eviscerated. With the creature now off of Fuzzy and the monster now throughly incapacitated Aaron casually strode onto the creatures side and walked to the side of its head that hadn't been damaged and stood over its enormously bulbous eye. Aaron paused a moment and gazed into the creatures eye, taking in all the apparent seething hatred and bestial instinct to attack and kill but as he gazed deeper he saw something else that he hadn't expected to see. Fear. This creature actually seemed to fear for its life as it glared up at the monster that so savagely assaulted every possible point that it could. It was then that the reality of what he had done set in. Aaron stared down at his once pristine blades and saw the sullied with blood and riddled with knicks and gouges from his reckless attacks. His hands were also coated in the thick viscous substance and when he turned and met Olivia's gaze for the first time since his wild assault began, she turned away in a manner that could only be described as disgust and shame. As his gaze returned back to the Caudata as it lay in the cold and filthy water of the sewer, Aaron saw the true monster he had become. Hot tears began to well up in his eyes as he leaned in close to the beast and whispered,

"I am truly sorry...."

As the tears began to fall down his cheek, Aaron plunged on of his blades deep into the creatures eye far enough that he was sure that it had reached its brain and ended the monsters suffering. Aaron took a moment to clean his face and blades with the rancid water then turned and followed the others to leave. He couldn't bring himself to talk to anyone for the rest of the trip back to the surface.

==================================================================================

[size=4]Chapter 4: A new face in the crowd[/size=4]

The ambush had been quite a shock and the subsequent transfer to whatever facility had been rather rough on Aaron. Not only was the incident with the Caudata still fresh on his mind, but the Nautilus soldiers weren't too keen on Aaron's comfort or well being. Most of the transfer and subsequent imprisonment had passed with a bit of a blur as he spent a great deal of time with a sack over his head or getting slapped around. Escape didn't even think of escaping until Olivia noticed the door to their makeshift prison was indeed open, to which Aaron quickly found to large kitchen knives for makeshift weapons.

[size=4]The Confrontation[/size=4]

Aaron watched as Liv went through her mental break down over the news that Sam was still alive, and to be honest he was having a hard time with it himself. From his fight with the Caudata and his physotic episode to the hallway lined with blood from the guards that watched over them got his blood stiring, and then on top of that seeing Sofia brought back memories of Helston all over again. Suddenly and with out warning Aaron felt his anger rise up and lash out at this familiar face brandishing his improvised weapons in each hand, using one hand and blade to hold Sophia at bay with a blade at her throat, and the other aiming the point of the other in the center of her eye.

Feeling the cool touch of steel against her her neck while another blade centered on her eye, Sofia felt her heart quicken. Death was so close, so near. She had escaped its fell clutches time and time again - many were not without consequence. Mentally or physically, they still left a mark in one way or another.

Aaron. She remembered him. The more temperamental of the lot.

"Well Sophie...this has been a fun reunion filled with lies from the whore of Helston, but why don't you be a good little girl and show us the way out of here...eh, what d'ya say?"

Her face remained impassive. "A whore is such a terrible word, dear Aaron. Such low-life ... things are far below me. How despicable they are. But I agree, whores and sons of Helston are just the worst types of vermin." Wrapping her arms around her torso, she leaned back. "Show you the way out? Perhaps I'll carve a map on your chest, so you may never lose your way. Would you like that?

Aaron picked Sophie enough to force-ably slam her back against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of any normal person, unfortunately for Aaron, the monster in his grasp was not normal by any means.

"You can try sweetheart, but I assure you...one wrong move and it will be the last you will ever make."

"Samuel is here; your thoughts or opinions mean very little to me. Nothing in fact. The death of dozens are on my hands. It'd be a shame if I left here empty handed. Why their pale, rotting sacks of flesh wouldn't forgive me!"

Aaron could feel his anger welling up within him, but there was something more. Deep within the pit of his stomach was a fire that felt akin to something he had felt before, like he had felt fighting the Caudata.

Sofia giggled as the images of the civilians and soldiers revisited her. "Oh how simply delicious this whole war thing has been! Assassinations are so quite - or loud. Depending on the method," she said. "But the chaos ignites the senses. Are you not enthralled? Why so quick to leave? Have you had your fill? Your anger is transparent. Is this not the best of remedies? You're soldiers! Don't disappoint me like the Nautilus idiots who accompanied me. A soldier kills for a country. Orders are to be carried out without second thought. In a way, we're alike, you all and I. The difference? I'm free. Liberated. Your chained by the whims of others, my angry little boy."

Once again Aaron lashed out at Sofia by pressing the blade against her throat just a little bit harder, opening a slight wound on her otherwise flawless skin,

"Shut your fucking mouth...we may be soldiers but we are nothing like you. We are here fighting for the well being of human lives. If liberation, to you, means the complete and utter disregard of humanity then that's all the proof you need that your the only monster here!"

Something she said struck a nerve with Aaron. The overwhelming sense of euphoria that he had experienced since his episode in the sewers had triggered a new perspective on life. The blood, smoke, and other indicators of war now seemed like a drug that helped calm his mind and soothe his soul. Somewhere deep where deep within him he couldn't help but wonder if he and Sofia weren't the same after all.

Sofia felt the trickle of blood roll down her neck. It had been far too long since she had felt this intoxicating sensation. How kind it was that one of Samuel's friends was the one to remind her of it.

"Fighting for the well being of humans? How hypocritical. How could you be fighting for the well being of another when you take the life of another?" Sofia grinned at him. Turning her neck slightly, she could feel the steely bite's pressure lessen. "A monster? Try enlightened. Do you not feel the satisfaction of knowing you killed your prey before it could you? Even in your position, as with all soldiers, there is a certain glee to living - even if it meant forfeiting the other's well-being. Oh, my dear, we are much more similar than you may think. You and the rest of this sorry ... entourage."

Even though he tried his hardest to deny her words, Aaron couldn't help but have to agree with her. The thrill he felt while fighting the Caudata was still fresh in his mind and the overwhelming sensation of joy was too perfect for words. Aaron came back to reality as Sofia turned her neck to relieve the tension from his blades, to which Aaron to which he quickly rectified this by pushing the blade harder against her throat.

"Uh, uh little girl, don't even think about moving. Maybe your right...maybe we are similar, but there is one major difference."

Aaron leaned close to whisper in her ear, the tone the tone was cold and sadistic. The thought that came to Aaron's mind, it was the phantom in the woods and his cruel and near psychotic tone,

"By the time that this day ends and I swear to all that is holy that I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

The stupid smirk remained plastered over Sofia's face. "No need to look far my misguided lamb," she said. "Egoism is the epitome of the most noblest of souls. The zenith of our existence! Once I've satiated my perverse desires, I'll happily welcome the steel's thrust. But will it be you or I? I'm excited to find out."

---

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ａｍｂｕｓｈ»

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ｏａｋ ｒｉｄｇｅ; ＢＡＴＷ ｗｉｎｇ»

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ｆａｍｉｌｙ ｃｕｒｓｅ»

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ｂｌｏｏｄｙ ｓｕｎｒｉｓｅｓ»

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ｂｒｏｋｅｎ ｄｏｌｌｓ»

The Sewers

---

There was nothing much past the flash of grey and the splash of the oily substance invading his insides. Roy had collapsed along the wall, eyes shut tight and head throbbing. There were parts of his body that hurt and others than felt numb and almost useless, bleeding only slightly with nothing that seemed too serious. Everything just hurt quite in the daze of his mind, most of all his head.

Opening his eyes, Roy slid up the grimy surface groaning as he clutched his head. It took more than a few good moments to register what was currently going on around him, much less that they were currently duking it out in the confined corridor against what looked to be an amphibious behemoth. When he'd came to, stumbling over loose bricks and his own two feet, Roy hopped back, almost toppling into the water as he attempted to prepare himself for another attack. He felt his head scream in protest, the imps that usually grumbled, needy and grabby, were silently hanging further back, almost frightened, but mostly cautious. Not only that, but the twinge at his stomach hurled Roy forward as he emptied out the sludge and grime that found its way in. In that moment, things seemed to swirl around him, his friends fought and he stood stock still, clutching his head and his knee to regain composure. Something had done a number on his head, leaving him in his current disoriented state.

Things needed to kicked into overdrive, though, and Roy found himself falling back to get a better vantage point and find a way to aid his team without harming them. His imps would find it
difficult to do much of anything, if they could do anything at all. Sliding to the wall, still grasping his head, he spotted Kat further back in the ranks, hopefully not too badly injured and attempting to do the same as he.

"Kat," he coughed, unable to race his voice any further, especially in a situation like this. Best not to call too much attention when in a weakened state. So, bending over, Roy snatched the least disgusting pebble in the split second he bent over and threw it Kat's direction before beckoning her over.

The behemoth's tail struck Kat hard and fast, taking her legs out from under her before she even knew what was happening. She collapsed to the filthy concrete in a heap, landing first and foremost on her already injured shoulder. She had taken the time to bandage it after it was grazed by a bullet in their last fight, but even with her guardian healing capabilities it was far from being okay. The impact tore open the small amount of skin that had healed and it began to bleed again. Kat let out a high pitched scream as she hit the ground, followed shortly after by a string of hushed obscenities.

Kat sat upright, gripping her shoulder with one hand while using the other to push herself up. She shuffled a few feet back to a wall and used it to help herself up. Her head was spinning, her shoulder was throbbing, and her entire body was dripping in vile liquid. With a deep breath, Kat commanded the liquid off of her. The disgusting substance was mostly water, so she was able to control it freely. It slid down to the ground, leaving no trace on her person. At least she had fixed one of her issues. A few more moments to allow her brain to stop rattling around her skull and she was thinking straight again. Some might question why getting that gunk off of her was the first thing she thought of, but those people hadn't smelled the stuff.

Before she had an opportunity to scan the battlefield, something light hit her leg. She looked in the direction it came from and saw Roy crouched a bit away, beckoning her over. With some effort, she made her way to him and crouched down. She nodded to him and checked the tagger info on the beast. Even if some people thought Olivia wasn't the best choice for leader, they'd have to admit she was good at using that thing. She frowned at what she saw. She wouldn't be of much use this fight, as the beast was resistant to her abilities. And with her being probably the most reliant on her spirits in the group, that really put her at a disadvantage.

"You stink," she said to Roy. "Got another neat plan? Besides not getting hit by that thing again."

"Yeah?" he frowned, rubbing his arm roughly, "You don't quite smell like roses and lavender yourself, sweetness."

Roy rolled his eyes, watching as his teammates went in one after the other, doing what they did best, albeit a bit more difficult in this confined space. Pulling Kat back, he suggested his plan to here whilst everyone else distracted the giant beast. "We can't really do much in terms of spirits," he frowned as he spoke, "But I think we can prove good distractions while our physically battle oriented friends beat away at the thing. You think we can do that much?" Roy smiled at her then, despite the pain surging down his chest and back, "At least, you know, within the limits our current condition... ah." He rolled his shoulder back, the audible pop making him cringe.

Kat nodded. He was right, of course, all they could really supply was support at this point. She sighed and stood up, still holding her hand against the wound in her shoulder. She wanted to get out of the sewer even more than she had before, now that she was running the risk of her wound getting infected.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

With that she stepped forward, toward the body of water that housed the grotesque creature they were battling. As she stepped down off the concrete ledge, the water solidified beneath her. She froze a path around the beast, allowing her and Roy more space to work with.

She glanced back, nodded once more, and then went to work. Just like the mech they fought earlier, her efforts wouldn’t do much damage. But they could slow the thing down. She slowly froze the water around the base of the monster, while simultaneously chilling the water covering the beast. Within some time, a layer of frost covered its slimy skin, hindering its movement.

It was more than anything he could have summoned up; he was grateful Kat had been near him at the time and even more so that she was a part of the group. Her efforts didn't do much to harm the beast or really much at all, but she was vital in setting up the rest of the team—they both were. So, when she 'd finished her thing, Roy jumped in to do the best he could, providing a good distraction as he dashed around the area. Like Kat, he wasn't able to physically harm the beast as much as the others, but he could provide support in various other ways.

The beast, slow and sluggish, swiped at his pin-pricks, annoyed at the bee making a fuss around him. Roy couldn't quite keep up the charade, however, as the beast and his exhaustion caught up to him. In an instant, Roy was against the wall, spurting up blood and saliva as he was immediately swatted away. In his blinding pain, which to him took more time to recover from than he'd expected, the team collapsed upon the giant xenomorph, delivering the finishing blows as he writhed in the mini-crater his body had made in the wall. Before he could lick his wounds, he looked over at Kat and gave her what he'd thought was a thumbs up and what probably looked like him begging for help.

Kat continued in her attempts to hinder the monster until her more physically able friends took the thing down. She had entered a kind of tunnel-vision like trance, not noticing anything that had gone on around her while she worked. Her mind was elsewhere for the most part, leaving only room for her and the monster. She thought about her shoulder, about Roy's injuries, and about nothing at all at the same time. The sound of the beast falling shook her back to reality. She looked around, taking in everyone's position. Her glance fell back on Roy, who was against the wall and looked pretty rough.

"I thought the plan was to not get hit again," she said, after making her way over to him. "You alright?" She placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"I prefer improvisation to plans," Roy said, giving her a wide smile that soon turned into a grimace, "But, you have a point. It's just internal bleeding and some bruised organs, though; I should be fine with a good night's rest and a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup." Taking her hand, Roy used Kat as leverage to get up, leaning most of his weight onto the wall.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Kat. We should check on the others, though," he said, clutching his side as he pointed toward his friends, "Make sure everyone's okay and not totally dead."

The Devil and the Deep

A morning, Before the Calamity

Remi remained hunched down in his seat, clutching his bag to his chest. He didn't need to look out the window to know that they had arrived. He could feel the gravel under the tires, the shift in incline. He gripped the odd contours of the bag even tighter. He was nervous. They parked. His parents got out of the car. He heard his mother come around to open his door. He wouldn't show it.

"You ready, Rem," she said softly but firmly. He smiled at her. He pushed all of his fears away. This was his moment. No one elses. The sun was fully up now. The world was alight. The world would see.

---

Cold and Dark, Empty and Full

It was cold. But the cold was a comfort. It reminded Remiel that there was something still to feel. It was dark. But the dark was soothing. He could still differentiate it from the light. The room was small. But not so much as to disallow the distance he craved now. He pressed his back against the chilled corner of the industrial freezer. He could not see his compatriots in the absence of illumination, but senses sharped by spirits and deprivation told him they were there. But Remi paid them even less mind than his surroundings.

There was warmth. His finger idly stroked Emily's sleeping forehead. He had wrapped her in the remains of his combat gear. Most had been stripped from them, but in their rush, the Nautilus soldiers had left him his roll and weathering. Even in the chilled compartment none of them were at risk of hypothermia, but he did not want to risk a change in her equilibrium. He did not know what was wrong with Emily. He did not know.

His thoughts were not on strategems now. He had no prepared tactics for their current environment. Under normal circumstances his mind would be spinning with trained response. He would be recounting all his knowledge of POW conditioning. Escape maneuvers. Anti-interrogation techniques. Non-traditional logistics planning. But none of that seemed to matter now. His world had shrunken considerably since their foray into the deep, dank, darkness. All of his preparations, all of his planning, all of his foresight evaporated in the face of the present reality. There was only her warmth. Her silence. Each breath that came so shallow and slow. He had no response to this. It was a grim irony that even now, Remiel could form no coherency when it regarded Emily Whitehall.

...But there was something he could do, wasn't there? It gnawed at the heels of this thoughts, teething at his paralyzing melancholy. There was something he could try. A gambit he could play. A card still hidden up his neatly pressed sleeve. But he feared that choice more than his seeming helplessness. He had sensed the fragment of essence that had migrated from the caudata and into Emily. His fingers traced the line of the field dressing wrapped around her chest. He could hear it slither within her, smell it within her, and as alien as it's presence was, he had sensed something like it before. Emily had not done it on purpose. She had not asked for this invasion...but Remi had. His hunger had torn out, by spiritual violence, the essence of other creatures. He had done it to the soldiers of Nautilus. He had done it to the xeno-beasts across the sea, and, at the moment of it's demise he had done it to the sewer leviathan.

But this was different. Remi's hunger consumed all. This lingered. It festered. Perhaps it was even growing stronger. Perhaps it was even trying to consume Emily. The thoughts consumed Remi at least. He was beginning to understand now, though. He was beginning to learn how to control that hunger. To portion himself. He had only taken a...nibble...of the last soldier. Could he not do so hear. Could he not turn his teeth the scalpels to cut out the foreign illness within her? Could he not consume it before it consumed her? But what if he could not stop feeding? What if he glutted himself upon her own spirit? What if the alien sickness could not be subsumed by his own hunger and just spread the infection? Remi had no strategems now.

But perhaps it was Remi's inaction which had allowed these events to come to pass in the first place. If he had acted earlier perhaps he could have saved her from...from whatever this sickness was. Too many variables. Too many unknowns. Remi was glad that no one could see the terrible mask of his features now. His body shuddered slightly under the strain. And then he was still. There was so much that Remi did not know. An infinite amount, perhaps. But one thing he did know, with ironshod surety, was that he there was nothing he would not do for her. That he would not do for any of them really. His finger idly stroked her head again. No risk of the unknown weight more than her safety.

Remi gently lifted her head from his lap, laying her down flat on the cold floor. He had laced her hands over his stomach, realizing now how funerary it made her look. But he could not bare to move her further. He squeezed her hands in his. Her warmed was solid and real. Moving one hand to cradle her neck he pressed his lips to hers. Almost a kiss. Almost resuscitation. His grip tightened on her. He breathed in...

It was not cold. It was not warm either. There was an absence of heat, perhaps a total absence, but there was no sensation either. There was no light. But there was no dark. There was simply an emptiness, so absolute that Remi felt his thoughts reeling for purchase against the void, for something, anything to hold on to. Even his name started to crumble in face of this non-reality. Something like panic, but much more subdued began to set in. The shining, crisp gears of his thoughts wound down and rusted away. All memory of motion and action and idolatry unraveled. The threads of his...her?...whoever it had been untangled and vanished. There was nothing else to say. Nothing else to do. Nothing else to think. To experience. There was...a snag. A thread caught on something. Entangled. Her. There had been a her. That meant there had been a him. That meant there had been a distinction between the two. There had been sexes. Sex. Life. Existence. Ecologies and the environments from which they spring. Climates. Weather. Wind. Rain. Physics. Forces. Reality. He was real. His name was Remi. He had a purpose. He was only a pinprick in this infinite expanse. But he had distinction. And now, with perspective, he saw the leviathan rise out of the abyss.

It was not fair to say that it had distinction. It was distinction. It cast a shadow upon the entirety of oblivion around it. It was something alien and huge. No. A distinction of size was not appropriate. It implied that there was something to distinguish beyond it. It simply was. Ever present. This was the presence. This was the sickness. But where was she? Where was Emily? He could not distinguish her. There was nothing to distinguish. Was she gone? Was she subsumed? The presence was too opaque. The shadow it cast too black. Remi was just a dot on a page, and as he was, the page turned black. She was gone. So was he. There was no force. No light. No wind. No air. No life. No reality. No-NO!

Remi gasped and recoiled from Emily's corpse. He scrambled back in the dark. The cold of the metal blisteringly hot to the touch. He struggled for reality. Suffocating. He blinked and blinked but no vision came. He breathed fast and hard but there was no air. There was...air. There was air. There was cold against his palms. There were palms. There were fingers and arms. There were limbs and creatures that varied in number and form. There was reality. Remi drew his breathing even. He listened in the darkness. He reached for Emily's corp- for her body. He could not hear her breath. He could not feel her warmth.

Something cold and wet squeezed his hand. He snapped his head back towards her body, and heard her take a long, wretched breath. In the dimness, he could just make out he form as she sat up and coughed, hacking gobs of phlegm onto the slimy ground. After a moment, the cough resolved into shudders and wretches that at first he thought were sobs.

Only when Remi pulled Emily close and held her rapidly warming body against his did he realize she was laughing.

---

Water and Wiles

Remi cut the surface. His form was excellent now. He'd been reviewing the tapes he'd made of himself. Minimal disturbance. Minimal sound. The water was clear and warm. Almost artificial to those used to the cold, iron seas of the south. Remi would have preferred those waters actually. Closer to those he'd be likely to see in an actual combat deployment. No matter. Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. He started counting. He propelled himself beneath the waves. His eyes blinking away the bubbles of his decent, seeking, searching. There. He saw the flash of the weight. Pushing further. Deeper. He felt his head almost groan as he approached seventy feet. He still wasn't accustomed to pressure differentials. He'd need to work on that. Finally he reached the bottom.

The weight. Circular, ungainly. Two hundred and twenty pounds. Hardly the most difficult weight he might need to bear on assignment. His fingers felt around the rubber mass for purchase. His body strained as he pushed off from the bottom. The weight wasn't a problem. It was the shape. Awkward to hold. Even more difficult to push through the water. Only his legs to propel him upwards. Harder without all the air in his lungs. Needed to breath. Needed to compress his chest more. He was still counting. His limbs burned. His lungs burned. Even after all his effort, his eyes still burned in the salt water. Remi broke the surface. He started making his way towards the pier. He was still counting. He would beat his time. As he approached the ladder he tried to catch a look at his watch. The laminated face blinked brightly. Four minutes and thirty-three seconds. A foot was blocking his way up the ladder.

He looked up to see Emily sitting there, dangling her legs off the pier. She wore big, round sunglasses, a wide, straw hat and a deep purple two-piece. Her pale, freckled skin betrayed how little time she spent in this kind of warm, sunny climate, but her toned stomach and svelte figure made up for it. She tapped the top of Remi's head with her foot.

"Having a good time?" She asked.

Remi blinked up at her. Panting. Backlight by the sun, she very nearly glowed. Radiant was the word.

"Oh," pant, "...uh," pant pant, "...no." He didn't think to pretend otherwise. He tilted the weight slightly as he tread water with it.

"Why not?" Emily said. "Bored, swimming all by yourself?"

Pant, "no...just...practicing..." if he wasn't already flush he might have blushed. He always felt self conscious when she was around, like he was doing something foolish. It was vexing.
He tried to change focus.

"You look nice," he said as casually as he could manage. "What are you doing?"

"Well," she said, "I was hanging out with Kim, but he went off to be with his dearly beloved. I didn't wanna third wheel. And everyone else is being adventurous, I guess, so I thought, who's probably not doing anything vacation-y on our vacation?"

She slid lithely from the pier to splash into the water next to him. It was just shallow enough for her to stand. She grinned at Remi.

"Guess who?"

Remi smiled sheepishly, rallying.

"Freddy right? That boy doesn't know how to relax." He shifted to face her, trying desperately to ignore the growing cramping in his arms and legs. He could hang on to the ladder. But then...Why did it feel like school again?

"Nope! Even he hung up his angry soldier hat today," Emily said. "Guess again. It's someone, uh, near and dear to both of us."

"Must be Roy then...strange...never thought he had a problem finding ways to unwind." Remi's grin got a little bigger, he swam a little closer.

"I haven't even seen that kid since last night," Emily said. "I can only imagine what he's got into."

Remi chuckled. There was a silence, just long enough for him to feel even more off-balance. "Well then I have no idea who you could be talking about, Emi-bear." He notably faltered with the last word, looking around nervously. Just using her pet name in public was discomfiting.

Emily drifted a little closer, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Process of elimination," she said. "It's not Freddy, or Kim, or Roy, or Olivia, or me. Who else could it be?"

Damn she was close. That never became easier to handle. Remi dopped his eyes. That just turned his gaze down to her body. Definitely not helping. He sighed and looked back up at her, his smile dissolving.

"I never know what to do at these things, Em, you know that."

"Hey, me neither," she said. "But that's okay. Let's be clueless together."

She was very close to him now. She smelled of saltwater and sea air. He imagined he did too.

He was practically using the weight as a shield now, twisting in her grasp slightly, looking around. "Em! Not here." He hissed. Nobody was around. Why would they. There were plenty of better spots. Besides the chances of anyone they knew seeing them were even slimmer. Still...

"Fine," she said. "There's a sandbar out there."

She leaned forward, across the weight, and kissed him on the lips. Before he had a chance to react, she pulled away again, turning and kicking off the the sand, swimming freestyle towards the open water.

Remi just watched her go. It wasn't until the weight dropped on his foot that he recovered. No amount of condition ever seemed to prepare him for Emily. He sighed as he felt his blood and body betray him. He was exhausted. He had only intended to make one more dive after the last, yet somehow he suddenly found himself with plenty of energy to follow her. He left the weight and swam after her.

But maybe he'd get to have a good time on this trip after all.

Flashback - Two Years Ago

Emily stood in the hallway outside Roy's room, listening to pulsing bass from a suite down the hall. She rapped on the door twice, and it drifted open, so she pushed it aside and stepped in.

"Hello?" She called. "Roy! You're here, you texted me."

The room was dimly lit from where Emily stood, with clothes hanging from whatever surface they were thrown on. It wasn't messy, per se, but it definitely wasn't spotless. The smell of aerosol and deodorant lingered a little too long once the door flew open, with a tinge of dampness that came from the open bathroom door from which Roy popped his head out. He didn't lick knick-knacks, so the room was pretty barren aside from the essentials: a few books, a lamp, clothes, naturally, and a punch of school supplies, and a clock somewhere under the mess on his nightstand.

"I texted you two seconds ago," Roy complained, combing through his damp hair. He stepped out already clothed and somehow expecting Emily's hasty entrance. "You're early, though. I assume the date went well?" He gave her a knowing smirk as he rummaged through his dresser for a few socks and his stash of illegal beverages.

He pointed to the nightstand, paused, and then pointed to the small living room attached to his small dorm. "There should be glasses somewhere in there, if you could grab 'em for me," he requested, "And don't hesitate to start talking all the shit you can about your boyfriend of two days. You always do; what'd he do this time? Blow his nose too hard?"

Emily passed into the living room and flopped onto the couch. She put her boots up on Roy's coffee table and rubbed her eyes.

"Josh didn't do anything," she said. "But I broke up with him."

Roy gave her a look, only mildly surprised, but he smiled regardless. "You didn't make him cry, did you?" he asked.

"Nah. He was too surprised for that," she said, straightening her skirt.

Sitting down next to her, he grabbed a few spare glasses and poured the vodka he'd nabbed into both. Roy handed her one of the glasses and said, "Was this just
impulsive or did you just... stop liking him along the way?"

Emily accepted the glass with a sigh, and took a long drink.

"I dunno. I think I liked being in a relationship way more than I liked him. It was stupid to even start it, that's all. I don't know what he wanted, and I don't know what I wanted, so it just didn't work. That's all."

"Maybe you should, uh," Roy paused to drink and think over his words carefully, "You know? Sex it out first and then find someone to settle down with. Relationships don't just fall out of the sky, Emily. You have to make them work."

"So I should just give up and have one-night stands?" She said. "Thanks, Roy."

"That's not what I meant," He sighed, "I just meant you aren't going to find someone immediately. Why not have fun while you look? You never know, that one night stand could turn into a wonderful relationship with dozens of children and a nice house in the prairie. God forbid. I mean, unless you want that, Milly."

Roy poured himself another small glass and looked at Emily. "Are you sure that's all that happened, though? You didn't, you know... do what you always do with random guys you want a relationship with?" he asked, raising a brow, "Not that you do something all the time. Or anything."

She didn't answer him, but took another long drink and stared down at herself. After a moment, she laughed.

"God, I'd be such a shit mom. And don't call me Milly," she said. "Anyway. At least I look pretty, right?"

"Ah, you could be worse," Roy laughed along, "At least you aren't a drug addict, just an alcoholic. And looks are all you need right now, Milly, but I guess you've got some brains too." He gave a shrug and took another drink.

He looked at her again, silently for a few moments before he said anything. "So, you got a guy lined up or are you gonna be responsible and wait a week? Or is that respectable...?"

"Fucking hell, Roy! I'm not just doing this to get more sex. Come on. I won't go, I don't know, whore myself out or whatever because I broke up with someone. That's not even a thing people do. Or. Not me, anyway."

"Sometimes you just gotta fuck it out and move on, Milly, sheesh," he said with a grin, "I know that's what I do. Regardless, maybe you should take a break from anything sexual or commital for a good month. Sometimes, it takes a little relaxing to find out what you want in a person."

"What you do and what regular people do, Roy, there's such a wide gap I don't even know... but yeah. Probably." Emily said.

"Plus, it was just a suggestion; you could use a good fuck. I doubt that guy you dated, whatever his name was, satisfied you anyways," Roy was still grinning as he downed his second glass.

Emily set down her glass and mock-slapped her friend across the cheek. "That is so completely none of your business! Not everything is about sex."

Roy feigned hurt as he rubbed his cheek. "You're right, there's also money and power to worry about."

Setting his glass down, he leaned into the arm of the sofa and titled is head to the side. "So, what is it you're looking for in a guy, Millie? If you don't mind me asking, especially since it obviously isn't sex," he asked, rolling his eyes.

"I don't know-- I mean. Not Josh, obviously. But I don't know."

She stared into the distance for a few seconds.

"It's not like there was even anything wrong with him. He was fine. Cute, and sweet, and he knew what to do and say. It just felt perfunctory, I don't know. Not totally like either of us were really involved in it."

"Oh, his name was Josh, thought it was—never mind, that's not important," Roy trailed off. He looked down at his hands for a moment as he muttered, "Don't forget he sneezed like a kitten and was too much of a clean freak."

"So, he was almost Mr. Perfect, aside from the fact that you both really didn't give a shit about the relationship?" Roy said, looking at her with a cheeky grin, "I mean, from an outside view, it seemed you had it all."

"I think you mean from hindsight," Emily said. "Whatever. I don't care. I mean, yeah, I do. But I'm not gonna."

Roy chuckled, grabbing Emily's glass and filling it with more alcohol. "You should try having a relationship with alcohol for a few weeks," he suggested, "Slack off and take it easy, right? Says Guru Roy."

"So I should be a drunk prostitute? Thank you, mighty sage."

"The mightiest and the wisest," Roy lifted his beverage, "I can toast to that, whaddya say, newly appointed, alcoholic skank? Watch out, though, that Britney gal is very territorial."

"I bet I lift more than she does," Emily said. "You never liked him, anyway - why not?"

"He was a prick?"

"How many times did you even meet him?"

"I don't know, like three times? Why does it matter if I liked him or not?" he shifted in his seat, but smiled regardless.

"I just wanna know what you thought, that's all."

"Well, I didn't think highly of him. Just the way he talked was—what's the word? Pretentious?" Roy gave another look as he hid behind his glass, "He seemed snobbish. Was he rich? I bet he was rich."

Emily shrugged. "I never met his parents. He wanted me to. I just told him he'd have to get by my dad first."

"Your dad would have hated him, but he would have sucked it up for you," Roy said, smiling at her.

"Too bad my sassy gay friend couldn't," She grinned back and prodded him gently.

"I'm far from sassy," Roy rolled his eyes, "I bet you if you were marrying the guy he would have said something."

"Hey, you never answered my question, though," he quickly changed the subject as he tilted his cup toward Emily, "What do you want in a guy that would get you involved in the relationship, or something like that? You gotta have some kind of idea; everyone does."

Emily considered for a few minutes.

"I don't have, like, a list of criteria," she said. "But I mean, I know what's my type and what isn't. It's more a definition by exclusion, you know? It's what I don't like that I notice."

"I guess it's one of those things, right? People keep blowing bull out of their asses about loving someone's flaws," Roy said, smirking at Emily again, "Maybe you're one of those people."

Emily giggled. "I have enough flaws. Everyone else should be perfect."

---

She remembered small things. Voices. The feeling of being held, carried - she didn't know by whom. The taste of blood in her mouth. Her heartbeat, slow but rhythmic, controlled. The pulsing feeling on, no, in her chest.

Now, she sat propped against a wall in the freezing cold, clutching at her chest. There was something there that hadn't been before. It felt firm, but smooth, like a leather baseball glove, and it ran from just to the left of her left shoulder down to the top of her left breast. It was shaped like a scar, or a gash in her skin, thin and tapered at the ends but wide in the middle. It pushed in and out with her heartbeat. Bulbous, orange sacs ran down the center, softer and squishier than the rest of the growth but impermeable even when she tried to dig at them with a finger.

The growth didn't hurt, but she could feel it, like she could feel her hands and feet. She could sense it working in her, alongside her body. Nothing about it had been explained to her - she had only the dimmest memory of how it had arrived, impaled in her chest when the xeno fell - but she knew it wasn't there to hurt her. It had some purpose, she thought, and she had to be alive for it to be accomplished. She wondered whether it realized what that meant. The thought that it might, that it might have its own conceptions or ideas of some kind, terrified her.

She knew she should still be in pain, but she felt only numb, narrow focus. On breathing regularly, keeping herself calm, staying alive. It was the growth's doing; it was hellbent on keeping her alive, whether she wanted it to or not. No animal wants to die. She didn't blame it, after all, how could you blame something for saving your life, or its own? But still, she hated that it was there. She remembered the warmth and light that had come with death, the comfort of it, like being wrapped in the arms of... not a parent, not quite, but an old friend, a cherished relative. She missed it terribly. She tried not to think about what that probably meant.

Emily remained seated on the floor, head down, as the others confronted Sofia, but she heard it all. She heard the girl's voice, familiar, but distinct. She wondered, albeit in an emotionless, analytical way, whether anything Sofia said was true, and how it had come to pass. Remi had gotten up to help the others. She wished he would come back and sit with her again. Though she felt stronger with every passing moment, she knew it would be a short time still before she had the strength to get up and move on her own. Even when she felt capable of doing so, she stayed where she was, letting the thing on her chest work whatever magic it could on her damaged body.

As if she had any choice.

---

Emily was resting against the wall next to the entrance to the tiny office space in which the friends found themselves speaking to Sofia. She was on her feet, rubbing her forehead with her hands. Her uniform was covered in muck from the sewers, and smelled of death. Still, she had clearly recovered somewhat from whatever had happened during the fight, at least enough to stay standing and breathe regularly. The bo staff was propped up next to her, against the wall. She didn't notice as Olivia approached.

“Emily, are you okay?” Olivia said.

She affected a shrug. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

Olivia stared at the freckled girl in silence for just a moment. She was usually lenient and understanding when it came to her friends, but this time things were different. Olivia skipped her usual phrases of apparent concern and bluntly stated what she wanted to know. “What happened back there?”

Emily folded her arms under her chest and stared at them.

"I died," she said. "Or maybe something like that but not so melodramatic. I don't know why I'm standing here and not lying on the floor frothing at the mouth."

“You died, huh…? It looked more like you did something with that Xeno,” Olivia said and looked at the vile growth, Olivia’s voicing sailing ever so slightly into waves of irritation.

Emily's hand traced the venous thing on her chest. "I don't remember, Liv. I remember seeing the creature, and I remember seeing it die, and then something hit me and everything was gone. That's it."

“I saw you absorb a spirit from that thing, we all did. Devoured spirits are nothing like the ones that we have, they are lifeless and dull, and there are no Guardians out there that can absorb them. So, I ask again: what did you do with that Xeno, Emily?”

"I just told you." Emily said. "I. Don't. Remember. If I had any idea, I'd tell you. When we get back to the Academy, we can go and ask somebody who knows more about this shit, okay?"

“I seriously doubt that there is anyone that knows anything about that,” Olivia said and hinted at the slimy growth. “I mean, what is that?”

Emily didn't say anything. She stared down at herself, down at the growth. It was a little smaller than it had been when she'd woken up, and viscera around the edges had subsided into her skin, but she could still feel it pulsing in and out with every heartbeat. Its leathery flesh and pulsing, orange organs - she didn't know that they were organs, but thought of them as such - felt less alien to her than they had before, but the strange, malign appearance of the thing was still sharp in her mind.

"I can feel it," she said. "On the inside. Like how you can close your eyes and know where your hands are. It's just... there. I think it can feel me, too. I think it, I don't know, it doesn't think like we do, but it knows what it exists to do. Like a spirit. But I don't know."

Olivia could feel herself projecting a scornful look on her face as Emily attempted to explain what the strange growth on her chest was. Olivia could only gaze upon it with disgust and somehow, at the same time blame Emily for it. But recently learning that Samuel was alive, this issue lost much of its weight, but it had to be dealt with in due time. Olivia forcefully jerked at Emily’s uniform and attempted to cover the thing up. “Whatever happens, you don’t show this to anyone but us — understand? — until we know what it is.”

Emily jerked away from her, along the wall.

"Remi's already seen it," she said. "And maybe the others while I was out, I don't know. Just go, okay? Leave me alone."

“Hey, don’t get snappy with me,” Olivia said, “I’m talking about everyone else, not us. I may not be the smartest person in the world, but I know enough to know that they will lock you up and dissect your brain if they see this, do you understand?”

Emily brushed roughly past Olivia and out into the hall, clutching her staff tightly.

"Maybe they should," she said. "Would that make you happy?"

Following the freckled girl, Olivia reached for her shoulder to make her pace stop, addressing her with a firm tone. “Hey! Why would you say something like that, huh? Haven’t I done for you and everyone else here enough already? If you got something to say, Emily, then just come out and say it!”

Emily pulled away and kept going, slinging the staff over her back.

Olivia stepped in front of Emily to halt her pace and look at her. “Hey, I’m talking to you,” Olivia said, but soon realized that her strategy of words so far needed revision, and that she was dealing with a person, a dear friend, not some expendable soldier. “Look, just be careful with whatever this thing is… that’s all I’m saying.”

Emily stopped, and stared at her erstwhile friend. She wondered whether the tiredness in Olivia's eyes mirrored her own. Another wave of exhaustion crashed over her; she couldn't think of anything to say that would make it come across clearly, so she just nodded slowly. She raised her hand, intending to take Olivia's, but pulled it back again, rubbing her neck, and fell back against the corridor wall.

Olivia can barely fathom the matters which have come to pass akin to an abrupt, furious storm at sea. She recedes from Kimberly’s presence as the Anatolian girl administers the aid of medication which purpose remain to dull the effects of his delusions. Olivia’s palpebras narrow and her brows clash as she observes the furry beast being dominated by a bantam doll, forced to swallow the pills. How ironic the order of nature aspire to be when opposites oscillate dependence upon each other, she thinks. Oh, how I wonder to where my decisions will carry those who upon me depends the most, those who to me search for guidance and strength, those who I in turn depend and trust my life, her mind wanders. Olivia is at the turmoil and debate of morals between the sister and the savage unable or defiant to react; they are both right and they are both wrong. She in her heart agrees with the white marionette and to each claim responds: “Maggie is right, there is no sense in fighting. Whatever you have to do, Sofia, we will not try to stop you, but we will not help you either. I don’t know if what you say is true or not and frankly, I don’t care; I don’t want to know.”

---

Meeting with Samuel

---

The conversation with the long lost sister and the friends was suddenly interrupted by a rumbling sound originating from deeper within the facility. They could feel and hear powerful thrusting and banging sounds vibrating the foundations of the complex. Smooth, refined ripples of dust fell from bantam breaks and crevices in the ceiling as the sounds continued at irregular intervals. Someone was alive down there and possibly attempting to call for aid, but that was not the first thing Olivia thought about; she could only imagine it to be Samuel. That is who she wanted it to be regardless of whatever the truth would soon reveal, but at the same time she feared her obsessional wishes. Her training and instincts, however, had to assume the sounds to originate from a survivor, which is why she ordered her squad to form up and take point. Whatever there was yet to be said between them and Sofia had to wait for now, but Olivia made sure to include the girl in the endeavors deeper within the facility. Despite whom Sofia identified herself as she was still part of the ‘family’ created by Samuel.

The sounds became more forceful as they descended further into what gradually appeared to be a covert military facility with multiple sublevels. The friends passed three different levels containing offices similar to where they met Sofia, two levels containing glassed laboratories cluttered with disturbing equipment and what appeared to be various xenomorph carcasses, and one level that was essentially a hangar filled with prototype military vehicles. The trail of blood continued throughout all of these levels along with dozens of bodies to go with it, which were either cut entirely in half, beheaded, or as if mangled by some animal. However, the trail stopped at a platform elevator that led to the last level of the facility. When they reached the bottom and only stop of the platform elevator, the friends found themselves staring into a seemingly endless abyss below them, separated only by a catwalk leading to what appeared to be a displacement device. It seemed as if this tube-like construction penetrated the core of the planet itself, as a greenish light emanated from the depths below. Olivia dared not to think about what it actually was that they saw down there, thus she shifted her attention to the end of the catwalk before them, and that is when she saw him.


*
She instantly feels an absconding, piercing throb within the depths of her heart and soul, procuring all to which she accustomed is and comforts, as she gazes upon the man who to her was previously unsung in his contours and apparel. Olivia’s memories, of days before what to her became perceivable as time and space, descends upon her with an imposing presence that only a single name can entail. He stands at the precipice with a structure of solid stone and reaching heights, ardently beautiful in his frame, and she neglects, in an instant, all that which has come to be known about his actions and faults, exorcised from her memories in a flash of nostalgia and obsessive desire. Olivia recognizes his facial features right away, even though she has never seen him in the adult before. All that which projects metallic and horrid noises around her, screeching ventilations and rumbling concrete, dims and cancels out by the marvelous trance in which she basks as Samuel slowly turns around to meet her gaze. Her limbs and treading becomes smooth and fluid, almost numb, upon the metallic paseo which now feels soft and slightly moist akin to the shores of distant coasts. Nothing in the vast of realities beyond and universes above mounted to any meaningful purposes, only he existed in her perceptions, no matter what terrible actions that had brought him here. Her vision of him tunnels and all around darkens, she sees only his apparition of perfection. Olivia is defiant of his reality, even as she stands barely the length of a breath away from the molecules and atoms which compose his body. His mesmerization has imposed upon her muteness, silence. Olivia elevates her frame by means of treading upon her toes and gently presses her heated lips against his. She wishes time and space, all realities to cease so as to make this her last moment of consciousness. When she withdraws from his frame, she speaks:

“Is it really you? I’m not dreaming, am I?”
Samuel gently tucked a few stings of hair behind Olivia’s ear.
“You’re not dreaming.”
“How… why… I don’t understand, Sam… what happened to you?”
“I don’t expect you to understand, Andy.”
Samuel was the only one of Olivia’s friends that knew her middle name to be Andrea. Warm feelings of loving nostalgia washed over the dark haired girl when she heard the nickname.
“I have so many questions… I don’t know where to begin.” Olivia broke her gaze with the boy and rested her head and cheek against Samuel’s firm chest. “Why did you kill all those people?”
“I had no choice; they did not understand, chose another path.”
“What are you doing here, Sam? What is this all about?”
“It’s about our salvation, Olivia. It’s about our chance to be free and go home.”
“What does that mean? Are you talking about Helston?”
“Even if I told you everything that I know, you either wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t believe me.”
“You have been gone for fourteen years, you ruined my… our lives, and now that you suddenly, magically come back to life, you don’t even have the courtesy to tell me what this is all about?”
“In this place, I’ve searched for the key with which I will set us free from this torment, and when I’ve found all the pieces to the puzzle, Phyrexia will be within my grasp.”
Olivia was bewildered at first, but then she remembered where she had heard the word ‘Phyrexia’ before: at the Academy, concerning kami mythology, Phyrexia was an ancient calamity that allowed the kami to harm each other, whereas they previously could not.
“Phyrexia?” Olivia said, “Sam, that thing isn’t real.”
“Like I said, I don’t expect you to understand.”
Olivia took a step back from Samuel, looking at the man with an ever growing fear.
“What are you planning to do, Sam?”
“I’m not who you remember me to be, Andy. One day, you will recognize me for who I really am, just as you will all our friends over there, but that is not today.”
“Why can’t you just answer me?”
In an instant, Samuel conjured his weapon to hand: a sword that appeared to be of Suji-odachi design, similar to what Aaron chose to wield, only it measured at least seven feet from hilt to tip. The man pointed it at Olivia to make her back away from him. Olivia was shocked and appalled at his action, almost bursting into tears on the spot.
“What are you doing, Sam?”
“All of what you see here is just a repetition, a replica of what has happened before. There are hundreds of thousands, if not millions of copies of you and me, all of us, that vanish whenever he wishes it. No more, Olivia. It ends here, within this reality, no matter what the cost. I realize that you can’t remember who you are, who I am, and that I can’t force you to — it saddens me — but if you or any of your beloved friends here stand between me and our freedom, I can’t help or prevent the fate that you have chosen before you.”
Samuel pressed the tip of his sword against Olivia’s chest, forcing her to back away from the displacement device, along the catwalk towards her friends.
“This is prophecy, Olivia. It cannot be prevented.”
“Why are you doing this?! What has gotten into you?! Who are you?!” Olivia shouted in despair.
“This is not the end, my dear. When I’ve seen to the resurrection of Phyrexia, this world and this reality will be reborn in a paradise of my choosing, and he will be powerless to reset his domain of terror.”
“Who are you talking about? Who is ‘he’?”
“He did this to you, to all of us. I will make things right again, I promise.”

----- Meeting the Valentine Siblings -----
A tea party for thirteen friends was held in a beautiful rose garden. One large table ---littered with various sweets, one-bite party snacks, and tea--- was surrounded by the tea party guests. All, but one seat, was filled. It was a seat that had been vacant for some time. Princess Kimberly wondered where everyone’s hero went off to. To save some poor soul no doubt. He always loved to help the needy. Kimberly was one of the many he saved. That’s why he was here. Everyone here was attracted to him in form or another. That’s why they were here. So they waited for him to join them in their little tea party in the middle of the rose garden.

At the head of the table, the Red Queen was holding a conversation with a the talking Raccoon sitting next to Princess Kimberly, while Kimberly turned his head to the side just in time to witness the skeleton bride wolf an entire Caudata down. How famished the Madame Mori must be to be desperate enough to eat the overgrown amphibian! Monsieur Memento took a handkerchief and, after setting her dislocated jaw into place, wiped his dearest’s exposed teeth that dripped with the Caudata’s blood. Right when Kimberly accomplished the first few steps of a smile, the talking Raccoon grabbed the Princess’s chin with her tiny paws to make him face her. Then she slapped him across the face. “You didn’t eat your vegetables!” Kimberly glanced down at the plate in front of him. Seeing that her claims were indeed true, he apologized to Ms. Andrea. The Raccoon puffed her cheeks and looked away from Kimberly angrily. Concerned of the commotion, the White Prince got up from her seat and came over to place a gentle hand on Princess Kimberly’s shoulder. “Wait here,” she said before leaving the table. As if Kimberly had anywhere else to go to.

While Princess Kimberly waited for the White Prince’s return, he noticed two figures in the distance, passed the Red Queen and the cloaked Lone Wolf’s bickering. He muted the two’s argument about how the Wolf wanted to massacre more people than the Red Queen did ---but couldn’t because there was a collar around his neck--- to focus on the fight that occurred so close, yet so far away from the tea party. The Dark Knight was fighting an onyx dragon all alone. The vehement battle continued without them and somewhere inside, Kimberly knew that it would continue to be that way if they didn’t go over there. But before he could even make the attempt to move, the ebon dragon picked the Dark Knight by the leg and plopped their hero into its hungry mouth. Satisfied by its snack, the dragon flew by the table to pour itself a cup of tea.

A voice from no one in particular asked Princess Kimberly whether or not he would like a second serving. To which he absentmindedly answered, “yes” to. Vegetables ---with two or four limbs, a mouth much to wide, and a pair of eyes--- that were hiding behind and under the foods on the table, seemingly came out of nowhere and began to race each other across the table, up the Princess’s body, and into Kimberly’s mouth. He felt like they were chocking him to death and his throat did everything in its power to repel the oncoming invasion, but an unseen force made it impossible spit them out. So he swallowed them. The bitterness of the dietary plants made the Princess squint his eyes so much that his eyelids closed shut. By the time he recovered, he saw the twins returning from their quest.

The White Prince and her Silver Knight twin approached the Princess with an ornate jewelry box. They both knelt down on one knee as they presented the box. “These are for you,” they said. “For me?” The Princess took the gift and opened it gingerly. Kimberly smiled at what was in the box. He picked up the daisy hair clip and secured his long bangs to the side with it. He only briefly looked at the family photo ---of his parents, himself, and the black scribble next to him--- before burying it in a breast pocket he didn’t know he had on his princess dress. Kimberly retrieved the last of the jewelry box’s treasures and looked closely at the pin badge.

When he turned his gaze away from the logo on the badge, he was sitting on the couch in the living room of his grandparent’s house in Helston. The TV was on, airing a familiar superhero cartoon show Kimberly remembered watching early in the morning on the weekend. Between him and the TV was a boy with hair as black as night, mimicking the poses his favorite superhero was doing on the screen. The pose did not look as impressive as it did when the full-grown man did it, but it was an endearing sight to see. Even more so, since Kimberly knew the boy was quite serious. “You… really like him… don’t you?”

“Duh! He’s only like the most awesome superhero ever!”

Kimberly smiled at the boy’s response as he continued to lecture him on the perks of being a hero. The speech ended shorter than he expected when the boy suddenly admitted that he didn’t actually care whether or not he became a hero: he only wanted to protect the people that mattered to him as he didn’t want to experience loosing someone again.

Even though Kimberly was fully aware that the raven-haired boy turned his head towards him, Kimberly could only focus on the superhero’s logo that appeared on the television screen. “I’ll protect you too.”

The logo on the screen turned into a logo on a tiny pin badge in Samuel’s hand, which quickly traveled into the raven-haired boy’s hand. The boy gasped in astonishment and, unable to contain his excitement, began to make meaningless movements. “No! You’re kidding me! Really!? This is so cool! Thanks Samil!”

“No problem. Oh, hey,” Samuel pulled out a red band from his pocket and passed it to the other boy, “I think you dropped this.” The black haired boy’s excited grin turned into a warm smile. He thanked Samuel, “it’s something important for someone who’s special to me.”

Kimberly stared at the pin badge and began to fidget with the older badge in his hands.

“Kim?” Samuel asked his childhood friend, “are you okay?”
“Y-yeah… I’m fine… I just… it just… reminded me… of you.”
Samuel glanced at the pin badge, then back at Kimberly, “a pin badge reminds you of me?”

“Because you’re a superhero,” Kimberly awkwardly blurted out. He quickly continued to elaborate on what he meant when Samuel expressed confusion, “you were… always my hero… “ Flashes of the past sliced their way into Kimberly’s mind. At first, it was the times when he was alone and the only attention he got from others, that were not his family, were distant stares and whispers that were pointed at him, but were not meant to be heard by him. There were people who carved out time just to put Kimberly in an uncomfortable position. Then his savior; his hero Samuel coming in out of nowhere, whisking Kimberly away like a damsel in distress. “You were always there, at… at just the right moment… just the right place… like… like a superhero… you always… saved me.” Images of the good times, simpler times, also find their way into Kimberly’s mental montage.

“Even when… everyone left me behind, you came back for me---…” Something in the back of Kimberly’s head told him that he was starting to mix Samuel with someone else… but who? Who else was there that fit the bill? Sure there was his other childhood friends --- brought together by Samuel--- who have been there for him as well, but that was not it. There was a single incident when no one was there for him. Where only one person came back, despite the dangers of the situation. An incident, that changed his life and yet he completely forgotten about until… now? No. Even now he still couldn’t remember.

Tears started moisten his eyes. Kimberly shook the thought out of his head and continued, “I were my role model… I wanted… and still want… to be like you… even if I… I can’t be as charming as you… or eloquent as you… I wanted to be there for… those I cared for… I wanted… to be…” He almost scoffed at the idea, “a superhero. The one that… can be there in the nick of time… the one that can save lives… the one that… that… that can…”

<He> watched the world harass <her> and push <her> to <her> limits. Thousands of faces accosted <her> and hurt <her> in ways that could not always be visually detectable. <She> cries when <she> thinks no one is looking. <She> silently screams for help, expecting that no living soul would be able to hear <her> anyways. But he hears <her>. <He> always had.

“That can forgive…” Kimberly took in a deep breath and blinked away the tears, “But… I know… I know that Kimberly can… never be Samuel.” He smiled at his idol, “I may not ever be someone’s savior… I might even… only make… things worse… but I still want to be… supportive. The one who’d be there for <them> until the real hero comes to save them or they save themselves. I’ll be that tree branch that accidentally caught that person who fell off a cliff. I’ll hold that person until the rescue team takes that person away. I’ll be that stallion the prince rides to save his princess. I… I’ll even be the shackles he breaks to free her… if it means <they> would be happy.”

Isn’t… that what you’re trying to do? I can’t help but feel like you’re playing the “bad guy” for everyone else’s sake. Don’t just tell us that we wouldn’t understand and vanish from us again like some mysterious character in some entertainment media! We speak the same language! Stop and take the time to explain it to us! Don’t just walk away! Make us understand! Agreeing or disagreeing with it can come later! Just… help us understand, Samuel.

Kimberly reached for the boy in front of him as if to stop him from leaving. Samuel was smiling at him when suddenly a comically maniacal laughter erupted from above. Samuel and the raven-haired boy turned around quickly, “who goes there?” the children asked, just as theatrically as the laughter, to the figure floating above them.

Circles of bright light, projected from an unknown source, made several failed attempts to illuminate the figure before finally hitting their target: a colossal sugar pill. “It is I, Julian the Deceiver!”

The two boys gasped at the reveal and, in unison, repeated the sugar pill’s introduction once more, “Julian the Deceiver?”
“Yes! Julian the Deceiver!”
“The a**hole that replaced all the other pills with candy?”
“Yes! That was I, Julian the Deceiver!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
The night-hair pointed at Julian the Deceiver accusingly, “you’re the reason why I had to go to the dentist! You bastard!”
“It’s your own damn fault that you didn’t brush your teeth properly.”
“Stop blaming the victim for your crimes!”
Julian scoffed, “says the person who forgot.”
“I think your expiration date is today, Julian!” The boy turned to other boy, “you ready to kick some ass, Samil?”
Samuel nodded, “you bet!”

With that, the raven haired boy raised his superhero pin badge high into the air as he could and chanted the magic words: “By the power of Awesome!” Immediately, the transformation sequence began. Almost like a reused stock footage that one would see on a weekly show. And like in every episode, the superhero said his usual catch phrase at the end of his elaborate costume change, “I HAVE THE POWER!!!”

The battle between the superheroes ---Ravenwing, the black haired boy, and Dark Angel, Samuel--- and the villainous Julian was not as impressive as one would have expected between two children and a giant sugar pill and lasted only a few seconds. Once that-who-should-be-defeated was indeed defeated, the camera zoomed into Ravenwing as he turned to face to it eye-to-eye. He smiled at the audience in an exaggerated fashion, “remember kids, he-who-shall-not-be-named never counts!” He gave the camera a thumb up with his blood soaked hand as his white teeth twinkled in the light.

“This program was brought to you by the mainstream of children’s entertainment, Momento Mori; With Love, Your Brain, the reason why you can’t live a day without drugging yourself; Sweet Dreams, the company that believes it’s their duty to bring the apocalypse to your taste buds; and Your Parents: Because you wouldn’t be going through this sh*t if you hadn’t been born.”

A hand reached over to turn the rotary dial of the retro television. Slowly, it twisted the knob to another channel. On the new channel, WARG was standing on a catwalk inside of an unknown facility. Reunited with a man they all believed to have died many years ago: Samuel. They talked about Phyrexia; they talked about salvation; and they even talked about prophecies, but in the end… Samuel told them nothing.

“He did this to you, to all of us. I will make things right again, I promise.”

“Have you… ever thought,” Kimberly finally said, this time fully aware that this was indeed the real world, and not him just imagining a dead man alive, “that maybe… if you stopped treating us… like children… who aren’t… ‘old enough… to understand’… and talked to us… we might… possibly… surprise you? Stop… using us… as an excuse… Sam… We won’t… understand… if you don’t explain… We can debate… about it… afterwards.” Kimberly fidgeted with the old pin badge Samuel gave him before his disappearance. “We… should know… if… this does… involve us…”

Phyrexia… The war between Kamis…

---

----- At the Caravan, Kimberly Age 6 -----
The first time Kimberly met his grandmother’s “people”, he had only begun living with his grandparents for approximately a year. The Caravan had marched into town and brought excitement to the usually peaceful town of Helston. After spending time browsing the nomadic community’s shops and watching their performances with his new friends, Kimberly was taken back to the Caravan’s temporary camping area with Michaela at night time. The two weaved their way deep into the Caravan’s camp and were eventually greeted by a group of people that called themselves the Children of René ---or more simply put, the René tribe--- they were, according to his grandmother, relatives. He was less surprised when he discovered that the people of René had a custom of naming their first-born René or have the word “Rene” somewhere in their name.

Michaela ---who was, for reasons unknown to little Kimberly, called Muna the entire time--- and Kimberly were taken to a specific caravan wagon where they finally met Michaela’s oldest brother, René. They talked for a while in a foreign tongue that Kimberly never heard of, before Michaela gave René a small pouch. René mumbled something before speaking in a language Kimberly could understand, “I will do as she wishes.” It was only later that Kimberly discovered that some of his mother’s ashes were in the pouch.

The rest of the night was spent eating dinner and René proudly teaching Kimberly of his heritage.

“So… the René tribe… has no homeland?”
René nodded, “if we did, it is long gone; destroyed by the Kamis.”
“Why… would they do that?”
“Haha, I don’t think it was on purpose little one. A battle between very powerful forces is not something that could be contained.”
“How… did anyone… survive then?”
“According to our legends, only a handful of our ancestors survived the aftermath of the Kamis' war. Most of which did not have the strength to live on anymore. A number of benevolent Kamis took pity on them and helped out in what little ways they could. One in particular, a Kami that we know now as the Nameless One, sacrificed a lot to save our ancestors. Many of our traits are said to have originated from what the Nameless One sacrificed.”
“Like…?”
“Amongst the survivors, there were three siblings. The eldest child was blinded by a Kami’s light, so the Nameless One pulled out zher own eyes and gave it to the eldest. From that day on, the children of the eldest had unusual eyes that could see things that no normal man could see.” Kimberly looked directly into René’s amethyst eyes as the older man continued, “the middle sibling became deaf by a Kami’s mighty shout, so the Nameless One gave zher ears to the middle child…”
“And from… that day on… children of the middle child… could hear things… that no man… could?”
“Ahahaha! You catch on quickly little one! You’re right! More specifically, they learned how to communicate with the spirits directly. These are the people who became the Caravan’s shamans. Finally, the youngest sibling had his throat sliced by the blade of a Kami, but only barely managed to survive.”
“So the Nameless One… ripped… zher? Throat out…?”
“And gave the most beautiful and powerful voice to the youngest sibling. With this voice, the youngest sibling was able to move his people’s hearts and encouraged them to live, once again… However. They still had no home to go back to… a country they used to be a part of… their identity died along with everyone else. So the Nameless One made the ultimate sacrifice… Zhe gave zher name away.”
“Giving up… a name… is the ultimate sacrifice?”
“Do not under estimate the power of a name, little one. A name is an identity; it is something that people will refer you as and it is what people will remember you as. Without an identity, we would all be lost. My mother theorized that, for a Kami, to give up one’s name is a death sentence.”
“Is… that why… this Kami is… called the Nameless One?”
“Yes. The Nameless One gave up zher name and gave it to our ancestors. To honor the Nameless One’s sacrifice, we named our first born with the name René.”
“Doesn’t that mean… the Nameless One’s name… is René?”
“You’d think so, right? The truth is, we don’t actually know. Some say that it was René while others say that the pronunciation changed over time so the name sounds entirely different. Some even say that René was only part of the Nameless One’s unbelievably long name, but a very vital part of zher name.”
“Vital… part?”
“It is unknown what kind of Kami the Nameless One was, but the name René itself means ‘rebirth’. If the Nameless One was a Kami of life or rebirth, then it would make sense that René was a vital part of zher identity.”

Kimberly stared at the ground in thought for a moment, “but… wouldn’t that mean… that Kami was… reborn as the people… with the name René?”

René’s eyes widened in astonishment, “you are a bright child, aren’t you, little one?” He turned to his younger sister, “if I hadn’t known he was Viator’s grandchild too, I would have sworn you kidnapped him from somewhere else!”

“I might be old, but I still consider myself a Warrior of René and you know better than to talk like that to a Warrior of René.” Michaela warned her older brother.

René laughed and stood up to open the sunroof of the wagon. To those who could not see spirits, it was dark out side, but for those who could see them, they saw the bright stream of spirits hovering above the Caravan. “It all depends on which version of the legend you believe in. Some say the Nameless One simply died and returned to the life stream at the heart of Atlas.” René pointed at the sky, “you may not see it, but there’s a large group of spirits that travel with the Caravan. Some think that the weakened spirit of the Nameless One is actually among the group of spirits. Hidden so that other Kami that wish zhim harm would not notice zhim.” René closed the sunroof and sat back down close to Kimberly. “Others believe what you just guessed: that the Nameless One, or at least a part of the Nameless One’s soul, is reborn in every child who receives the name René. If this is true, then…” the older man pointed at his chest, “there’s a part of the Nameless One in me,” then he pointed at Kimberly’s chest, “and a part of the Nameless One in you.”

Kimberly placed a hand over his chest, “that’s… a lot of… Nameless Ones…”

“Regardless of the truth, I think this tradition started to show how much we appreciate what the Nameless One did for us. To prove how much we admired zhim and would like our children to be just as selfless as zhe was. The Nameless One was one of our saviors and we should never forget that. Even if zhe became nameless.”

Kimberly rubbed his chest, “a… hero…”

René smiled at his sister’s grandchild, “and you should never forget about the people who did something for you, right?”

The child nodded.

“Even if the rest of the world forgets, you should always remember.”

---

Helston, unknown time ago

---

Samuel did not know how long or how far he had wandered the world from that wretched facility in which he had been captive, but it was all over now and he was home. His mother nearly had a heart attack when she saw him suddenly standing in the kitchen doorway as he used to before his disappearance, or shall one say death. She dropped the dishes onto the floor, which shattered in a thousand pieces, and then embraced her son tightly, never intending to let go. Samuel’s mother required a good hour to grasp the fact that her long lost son was sitting at her kitchen table, speaking with her. She cried herself dry, an utmost painful sensation.

“I can’t believe that you’re here, Sammy,” she said and poured the tea in his cup, “I have to get in touch with your sister somehow and tell her that you’re okay.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. She simply left one night, shortly after your funeral.”
“My funeral? What did you put in the casket?” Samuel said and took a sip of his beverage.
“Oh, everyone put a little something in there, items of value to your memory.”
“What did you and dad put in there?”
“That picture we took when the lot of you came back from Conoley Falls, do you remember that?”
“Yeah, I do,” Samuel said and chuckled.
“I was so angry with you, we all were.”
“So, why did you put that in my casket?”
“To remind myself that being angry at the ones you love is a dangerous and pointless thing, as you never know when they will be taken away from you.”
“What about dad?”
“That wooden knife he made for you.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember that.”
“I’ve never seen your father as heartbroken as he was that day.”
“Where is he, anyway?”
“He’s in Eldred, an auction for field equipment.”
Samuel was silent for a moment, looking at the field outside the window. The farm was beautiful, a plethora of memories washed over him. Then he spoke again.
“Was Olivia at the funeral?”
“Yes, she was. All of your old friends were.”
“Did she put anything in the casket?”
“Yes, she did. They all did.”
“Did you see what it was?”
“No, Olivia had it wrapped in a napkin. You really did a number on her with your passing, Sammy. I don’t know if you plan on seeing her again, but you have to be careful. She is extremely fragile when it comes to you.”
“I don’t know… there’s something that I’ve got to do, and I’m not sure if she’ll understand, so it’s probably best if I don’t see her.”
“Oh, it sounds important, what is it?”
“It’s something that will make things better for all of us,” Samuel said and stood up and kissed his mother on her forehead, “Anyway, I think I’ll get some sleep, thanks for the tea, mother.”

---

Meeting with Samuel

---

Olivia slowly backed away from the man who bore the shell of someone she had once loved dearly, but no longer carried within what she had fallen in love with. He was a changed man, and what was left of the Samuel that they had known as children either could not or did not care to return. Olivia was devastated, covering her mouth and nose with diamond shaped hands, trying her best to hold back a plethora of tears, but she could not. The salty water drops were cascading down her cheeks, as Kimberly gently placed a hand on Olivia’s shoulder to stop her backward pace on the catwalk. The dark haired girl positioned herself slightly behind her furry friend as he spoke to Samuel.

Samuel looked to Kimberly and spoke: “How would you understand anything in regards to reality, Kimberly?”
Olivia carefully whispered to Kimberly: “Don’t speak with him, Kim. That thing isn’t Sam.”
Samuel continued, somehow, omnisciently able to hear every word that was spoken: “You’re not wrong, Olivia, but then again, you’re not right either.”
“Just answer his question!” Olivia shouted.
Samuel’s facial expression became stiff.
“We are all slaves to a faulty ruler. Whenever anyone or anything attempts to topple him, the universe and all realities therein reset and begin anew. It’s an endless repetition and many have to suffer for it, including you and me, even if you’re not aware of it. Phyrexia, the calamity that brought the kami to extinction, is real and perhaps the only chance of ceasing this torment. However, there is always a price to freedom, and this time there are no kami to take the hit,” Samuel said.
“And what does that mean? Who takes the hit this time?” Olivia asked.
Samuel remained silent, his eyes and gaze speaking for him.
"What, humanity?! So, you’re going to bring another calamity upon the world and kill everyone because of some fictional prophecy that has gotten to your head?! Are you insane?!” Olivia shouted.
“I’m doing this for us, my love,” Samuel said.
“I’m having a difficult time believing that, Sam.”
Samuel suddenly burst into a momentary loud, rage that instantly died down.
“Believe whatever you want! It doesn’t change the fact that this prison for your mind and soul is doing exactly what it was intended for,” Samuel said and paused for a moment before continuing, “You think you know so much, my dear Olivia, yet you know nothing. I’m not going to destroy Atlas, I’m going to make it my vessel with which I will sail the cosmos and bring an end to that wretched being that dares call himself our father.”

---

Sound and Fury

The Messron-220 Close Kill Projectile was a curious oddity of engineering. 10cm of machined steel and molded plastic that when taken together produced a small crescent blade attached to an ergonomically designed grip that fit comfortably within the palm of the average Oakridge Guardian's hand. It was not an ideal weapon for hand-to-hand combat, nor was it particularly well designed as a utilitarian tool. The CKP was designed for one purpose and one purpose only, precise, singular deployment of the weapon by throwing to maim, distract, or, as the name suggested, kill.

Too small and slight for use by mundane soldiery, too large to be deployed in large quantity, spiritually augmented individuals were the only ones capable of using the curious device to any great effect, and even then it had never proven to be a great enough asset to achieve any sort of ubiquity. Nevertheless, there were a few amongst Oakridge's WARG operatives that found some function in the academies remaining stores of the discontinued product. Most of these were trained specialists, who valued the weapon as an easily concealed kill vehicle able to be deployed at some range. In the hands of such specialists, the CKP could be propelled with enough force to puncture all but the most dense and ungainly of personal body armor used in any of the various city-states of Cetra and beyond. as well as achieving enough accuracy as to precisely hit vital hit locations on a moving target, in some cases without line of sight. As such the weapon was occasionally perceived as a tool for assassins, having been used on more than one occasion in an attempt on the life of high-profile targets of interest.

Remiel was not a specialist in the CKP, his career track did not include courses on the proper handling and deployment of the weapon. His education in it's application had been more personally. One of the many optionally training programs he had undertaken at the academy in his off time. He had achieve a class-C proficiency classification in it's use. The highest attained by a non-specialist. He carried a single CKP on his person as part of his elective kit allotment. He continued this trend before his WARG deployment.

Nestled within his palm, the CKP had felt smooth and cold, still retaining the chill of the refrigerated erstwhile prison. His body had coiled as the muscle memory of ten thousand practice throws took sovereignty over his body. Nearly every part of his body tensing and laxing together in a synchronized, holistic union of muscle and sinew, focusing all of his bodies strength together for a single purpose, multiplied by the spirits within. It had only taken an instant, his arm flexed, his torso twisted, his legs turned and locked. The CKP had left his hand moving at 216.1 meters per second.

The CKP had moved five meters since. It had passed between the heads of Remi's teammates, mere centimeters from Maggie's jawline, mere millimeters from Roy's nose. Now only 8 centimeters from slicing into the arteries and tendons of Samuel's neck. Sam moved. The blade sailed past. It struck and ricocheted ineffectually from the displacement device with a pathetic ping. Before most anyone could rationalize the event, Remi's body coiled again. This time turning his energy into launching himself. Vaulting over the heads of the group from his place at the back, Remi rotated his body around, turning all of force again into a single point, the heel of right foot, as he brought it down in his decent in an axe kick. There was 1378 kg of force in the heel of Remi's right foot. It was 7 centimeters from the top of Sam's skull. Sam moved. Remi's heel struck the floor of the catwalk. Metal plating twisted and dent, the cat walk tremored.

Remi's body coiled. He rotated himself around the heel pressed into the floor, drawing his body into the spin, his other leg up to his chest, his back to Sam. Throwing all of his power into his other leg he lashed out at Sam's abdomen. 2408 kg of force in the blade of Remi's left foot. Sam didn't move. The force of the blow hurled Sam back several paces before his feet planted and he caught the railing. Remi's body coiled. Sam move. Remi coiled. Again and again in moments that spanned the breadth of a heartbeat. A flurry of scything limbs and blurred bodies.

Remi lashed out with greater power and speed than he had ever mustered before. His place as the second-ranked hand-to-hand combatant at Oakridge seemed inadequate. Remiel knew with crystal certainty that there was no one he'd ever known that could best him in this moment, and though he'd yet to land a blow, even mighty Samuel could do naught but flag and retire in the face of his onslaught. Each strike came closer, each step constricted Sam's area of maneuver smaller. Remi coiled. Sam moved. Remi fell.

It wasn't much, a glance of the hand against Remi's shoulder, a shift in focus. All of Remi's force turned against itself. His balance forfeit, Remi fell unceremoniously onto the catwalk, his weight and momentum focusing into his shoulder that struck the metal plating with an unpleasant pop. Remi pushed back off of the plating eyes narrowing dropping into a guarded stance. Sam didn't move. He stood mere feet away, still in the same relaxed pose. Remi glared.

It was not chance. Remi would not best this simulacrum in quartered combat. That moment had passed. But he wasn't done. He had something left. Something that he knew even Sam didn't have. Remi had the hunger. He had tried to shackle it, restrain it at ever pass; ignore it's ache, smoother it's desire. He had feed it giblets through the bars of it's cage. Hoping to sate it's hunger. He had turned all of his will into a muzzle over the maw of that hunger.

Remi took the muzzle off.

The hunger devoured everything in it's path. It devoured the sounds around them. The hum of the machines. The whispers of panted breath. It devoured the sickly lights that flickered and blinked. It devoured the air and the heat. It devoured the background radiation and electromagnetism. But even now it did not do so indiscriminately. Remi had unmuzzled the hunger. But he still held the leash, and he turned it upon Sam. The hunger devoured the space between Remiel and Sam. It devoured the heartbeat time it took to reach him. It devoured the centimeters between itself and Sam.

And with phantasmal jaws gaping wider than creation, it poised to devour the lie that called itself Samuel Valentine.

---

ｏａｋ ｒｉｄｇｅ; ｔｗｏ ｙｅａｒ ａｇｏ »

---

ｆａｌｓｅ ｋｉｎｇｓ»

Meeting with Samuel
Olivia screamed at Remiel to stop what he was doing, tears and despair clouding her aura, but she was being held back. There seemed to be a general consensus to simply end the life of the one who had brought them together in the first place, the one who they had sworn to avenge by joining the academy and the Cause, the one who they had loved so dearly. Olivia could not fathom it, even if she knew that Samuel was not the same boy she had grown to cherish. “Remi, stop!” she shouted, it was naught. The girl was afraid for the both of them. She knew that something was different with Samuel, but she could not put her finger on it; he was more than what met the eye.

A low-pitched rumbling sound descended upon itself as thick, vile smog suddenly sprouted from Samuel’s presence and engulfed the spacious shaft that they were in. It overwhelmed Remiel’s thirst for power and knowledge in the fraction of a heartbeat, and as the blackened particles parted, a stupendous being of hellish nightmares emerged. It swallowed that which had previously devoured all in its path akin to how a black hole diminished stars. The creature, that Olivia could only assume to be Samuel, wrapped its massive fist around Remiel’s entire torso, its crusted fingers and nails overlapping each other by several inches, and lifted the man off of the catwalk. It stared deep into Remiel’s eyes and soul, uttering growling words of some incomprehensible, ancient language; and stared down Magdalena with its hollow, molten, gaping eyes as she attempted to approach with an attack.

The dreadful display was over within seconds. After speaking to Remiel and intimidating Magdalena, imposing visions and dreams upon them — in which Atlas drifts across the cosmos, barren and dark, towards a war of beings beyond the worlds of men, where realities clash when this imposter dominates creation, and mankind recreated serve eternal — the creature moved disproportionately fast to the displacement device, where it metamorphosed into Samuel’s being again. The man glanced at Olivia before entering the radiant energies of the teleportation; she could only gaze upon him with horror and despair.

The vortex and fluctuation of opposing energies within the shaft had caused the facility’s foundations to shatter; the whole structure was coming down upon them. Olivia set herself free from whoever it was that held her down and ran over to Remiel. She grabbed his arm and placed it around her neck to offer him support, asking Emily to help her. “Come on, we have to go!” she shouted, as she led them towards the displacement device. Even if some of her squad members had spirits that could transport them out of the soon to be ruins, it would not have been fast enough. Their only escape was by teleporting into the dark unknown.


*
The Tree of Life
Everything happened so fast. One minute he was standing there clear as day, the next he was gone. She could not understand it, nor could she remember if it was real. Had she dreamt all this time? Perhaps it was an elaborate hoax conjured by a student at the academy, or perhaps someone had slipped heavy drugs into one of her drinks at the graduation party; these were scenarios that she wished to be probable, but knew in her heart that they could not. The truth was that the boy she loved beyond any reasonable measure was alive, but at the same time not. He was not himself, nor was she. Something happened to her on that catwalk; something that she could feel beneath her skin, but could not explain. It was a splinter in her mind, driving her mad. Olivia could not shake the image of that hellish creature out of her head. Beings like that only existed in fiction and fairy tales, thousands of years ago. It was almost as if Samuel had taken the form of a kami.

Upon awakening from her unconscious state imposed by the turbulent teleportation, Olivia realized what it was that had changed about her. Her spirits were gone. They had been absorbed by a presence out of legends, standing not three feet away from where she was lying on the muddied ground. It was the Tree of Life, the most spirit dense entity on the planet. The girl was astounded by the sight before her, and by the infinite shades of blue that evolved in the air as though unaffected by time and space, but she was also intimidated. Olivia had read about this tree in her studies at the academy, but she never believed it. To her, it was just an urban legend conjured by peasants to inspire hope.

Olivia managed upon her feet, seemingly without any notable injuries. She had an uncanny ability to always emerge from commotions unscathed. The girl could feel blissful heat radiating from the tree, and see spirits of myriads flowing in the atmosphere around her. The three brother spirits of lightning had left her, and for good reason. They were extremely strong and impersonal spirits, not looking kindly upon those with weaknesses of the slightest form. But she did not mourn, as they had aided her in a world where Samuel did not exist. His return changed everything about her being, about her world. She was clouded by her own obsession, mesmerized by an avatar of something beyond her comprehension, and it had taken its toll.

As she reached for the tree to feel its texture, Olivia suddenly absorbed a new set of spirits. Their entrance into her body was tranquil, as attaining spirits always was, but something was different with these peculiar phantoms. They were completely blank, and they did not impose any emotions or words upon her; there was only silence. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, entirely different from her previous, beloved spirits of lightning and wind. These ghastly things were of pure energy, of formless gray, and of absolute balance between extremes. Olivia felt confused in her newly found strength, yet somehow more confident in her place in the world. Her internal pendulum had stopped. As she retracted her arm, some manner of thick, almost liquid matter sparked from her fingertips, disintegrating in their nature. She was suddenly distracted by the thought of her friends, but the curiosity and the air of mystery surrounding these new spirits was intriguing to Olivia.

Her father’s leather jacket that she had worn so vigorously throughout the years and throughout the recent endeavors had finally met its demise. The sews and stitches by the shoulders connecting the sleeves had been torn, the back had caught damage from energy residue leaking and spewing forth from the displacement device, the zipper and buttons had been torn, and it was oozing of sewer. Olivia took it off and tossed into a heap of rubble and debris at the base of what appeared to be some kind of factory building. Looking around, she noticed that she was standing in the ruins of an old town. There was no identifiable landmark anywhere to be seen, and Olivia’s cellphone did not have any service; in fact, it did not work at all. She muttered some incomprehensible words.

“Is everyone alright?” she inquired, as she did a headcount of her squad that was scattered in the immediate area around the tree. To her horror, some of them were missing. The displacement device had not been calibrated to carry all of their mass, and thus split them up into different target locations. It was no wonder, she thought. Samuel’s escape through the machine had brought the entire facility to its knees, and had it not been for their own break away through the same contraption, all of them had been dead now. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” she said and had a look around for those who were missing. It did not take long before it became apparent that portions of her squad were nowhere to be found amongst the ruins. Being away from the rest of her friends, she took a moment to reflect on things and what she had seen.

Olivia seated herself on a heap of rubble. She attempted to spark life into her cellphone, but it was hopeless. Wherever they were was a dead zone, or the tree was causing some kind of interference due to its high spirit density. “Damn it,” she muttered and put her phone back into the right pocket of her tight, denim jeans; utmost uncomfortable. While doing so, she noticed that her originally fluorescent-white sneakers were muddied up beyond recognition. It was probably not as bad as it looked, but to Olivia it was a disaster. At least her plain, white t-shirt was relatively intact. As she ruffled her hair in frustration, she noticed something that was barely visible in the shadows of the building; the early hours of the morning had yet to cast any considerable sunlight. With a bit of effort and superior strength of her Guardian nature, Olivia managed to dig up an enormous broadsword. It was peculiar that the thing had ended up here. The ruins were obviously ancient, but this sword could not possibly have been wielded by a normal man. From tip to handle, the weapon was five to six feet long with a single-edged, large blade approximately one foot wide. The steel was of dark-grayish coloration, although lighter shades to mark the edge of the blade itself, scarred and muddied, and the hand guard appeared to be bolted or riveted into place with designed plating. Lastly, there were two holes situated at the base of the blade, near the hand guard, for whatever esoteric purposes. Olivia had no conception of its proper weight, as it was extremely light to her, but it looked heavy.

The girl returned to her sitting at the tree, and she rammed the sword into the ground before it. She inspected the sword with care and wondered whatever happened to her gunblade. It must have been confiscated, stolen by the Nautilus guards when they were captured at the artillery platforms earlier that night. Her thoughts soon returned to the sword in front of her. Where did it come from? Who wielded it and why did they leave it here? Did this mean that someone had found the tree before her? It was possible, but the legends told that the Tree of Life was always moving, which is why it was nearly impossible to find it. How could a tree move? Did it uproot itself and just walk away? Olivia thought. Perhaps it was not that peculiar in a world full of monsters and spirits.

“Well, at least I have a weapon again,” she said to herself before finding Remiel, who was resting on the ground nearby with Emily. Olivia bowed down before them, resting her palms against her kneecaps. “How’s he doing?” she inquired of Emily, but then also speaking to Remiel directly: “Remi, are you okay?” she said. Olivia did not have the time or luxury for thinking about herself right now, even if her eyes and lips were swollen beyond measure and her tear canals were dry.

Aaron stepped in front of the massive blade pointed at Olivia and kept one hand on his sheath, finger on the trigger, and the other tightly gripping the handle.

"Well that just proves that your not Sam...Sam wouldn't even think about SUGGESTING about hurting Liv..."

A false bravado emanated from Aaron as externalized by the over confident smirk as he stared down friend from once upon a time,

"...I don't know who you are, but no one threatens my Liv without consequence."

Samuel chuckled: “Your Liv? What makes you think she is yours? What makes you think she’d want a short, pathetic excuse for man like yourself, Aaron?”
Olivia placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder, standing behind him; in an attempt persuade the boy to back away. “Aaron, please don’t do this.”

The choice of words he chose hadn't occurred to him until Sam had called him on it, he hadn't meant to say his Liv but in the depths of his heart he knew that was what he really wanted to say. The stinging barbs of Sam's words only succeeded in making him even angrier when a calm hand grasped his shoulder, Olivia called to him to stop which only hurt him further. He knew what she meant, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't really want to have a confrontation with him because of her past feelings for him. After years of keeping silent about the whole thing, Aaron finally snapped and unfortunately, it was at Olivia,

"Liv, whatever you had for Sam is pointless here, this isn't the Sam you knew...that man is dead..."

Pointing at "Sam" standing at the platform he called out to him while he was addressing her,

"This is not Sam...he is just another enemy that stands in our way and needs to die!"

Olivia’s eyes began to swell and induce shades of amaranth and auburn coloration, just as her lips beyond their otherwise already inflated nature, as a tear or two burst into the atmosphere. She retracted her hand and stared at the boy with disdain: “What makes you think that you know anything about what ‘I had’"

"Oh come on Liv, I've watched you for years with him...it was plastered all over your face...this isn't Sam anymore. Your life revolved around him and now he's here you can't bring yourself to truly admit the fact that the Sam that you once knew is a madman that wants bring about the end of the world with a fairy tale!"

Olivia remained silent, agitated as she was, while staring at Aaron with despair. She glanced at Samuel, who decided to be mute, and then addressed the boy in front of her: “What is it with you and disappointing me, huh? Outside Doral you did it, and on the boat; why can’t you listen to me or stand to see me happy?” she said.

Aaron stood in wide eyed shock, Olivia's words struck a deep wound in him the likes of which he had never felt before. He could feel tears well up in his eyes which seemed to steam as they touched his cheek. The fire was building deep in his belly. This wasn't fair, Aaron had cared for Olivia for as long as he could remember, done everything that he could to ensure that she could be happy, and as long as he could remember her heart had always belonged to Sam. As the tears began to fall from his eyes staring at the woman he cared for the most he wasn't able to bring his voice above a trembling whisper,

"Y...Y..You don't really m...m..mean that Liv. I've spent the whole of my adult life trying to make you happy, you can't mean that Liv."

Turning slowly to stare at the visage of everything that despised, this impostor who claimed to be Sam.

"You...your the cause of all of this. You are going to die here and now!!"

Aaron charged with blind fury, his new blade already unsheathed and wind already swirling in massive currents.

“Aaron!” Olivia shouted, as the boy flung himself into his iconic rage. He would be no match for Samuel at this point. She could feel it in her bones and her veins, as he was something else entirely. Olivia had to react fast to preserve the peace, to protect Samuel or Aaron. She was unsure of which one of them she actually cared for or attempted to defend; perhaps both, perhaps neither.

Olivia vanished in a thunderous flash and appeared behind Samuel, who did not even flinch, and then she instantly blinked again to catch Aaron’s rush. The impact caused a bright display of lightning that reached for the conductive railings and treading of the catwalk, and when it died down, Olivia was sitting on top of Aaron, who was flat on his back. She grabbed the boy by his neck and pulled him close, “Stop! Just stop it, right now! I’m sorry, okay? You’re going to get yourself killed if you engage him,” she said.

Olivia's grip was surprisingly strong but Aaron's rage was stronger, as he pulled away from her and charged towards Sam once again brandishing baleful heated wind only to see Sam turn and dismiss an attack with little more than the batting of an eyelash, this didn't deter him. Continuing his charge, Aaron began to bring down his sword but was swiftly sent flying by a backhand from the monstrosity that was Sam. Before he could get up to continue his assault, Aaron felt a firm tugging at the back of his neck pulling him towards the platform and the odd sensation of the device working. Sometime passed when finally stood up to see the Tree and stood in awe of its beauty. The sudden realization that he was in the middle of "fighting" Sam brought Aaron back to his sense of anger when he turned and saw Olivia coming back from where ever she esacped to.

"Where is he...Where did Sam go?

— Tree of Life —

The boy of rage and fire’s muttering caught Olivia’s attention, and she left her musings concerning her newly found sword behind to sit herself beside Aaron, who seemed disoriented and unable to remember what had happened. She looked at him calmly, no longer agitated by his previously reckless behavior. “Did you smack your little head on the pavement or something? He used that machine and teleported away, which made the whole place come down on our heads, so we had to use it ourselves,” she said. Olivia glanced at her sword that was still rammed into the ground next to the tree, and then at the tree itself. “Would you believe that? — The Tree of Life. I always thought it was fiction, but there it is. Clear as day,” she continued.

Aaron's initial reaction was to look at the Tree and revel in it's beauty once again, although something about him was in the process of changing, even if he didn't know it at the time. He could FEEL ancient words coursing through his mind and terrorizing images of great beasts that soared through the sky spitting hatred and fury with every breath. The feeling was too much to bear. Grabbing both sides of his head Aaron lurched away from Olivia, the sensation of rage forced him to speak what was truly on his mind,

"WHY DID YOU STOP ME!! I COULD HAVE KILLED HIM, I COULD HAVE BURNED HIM TO CINDERS BUT YOU HAD TO STOP ME WHY??!! IS IT BECAUSE YOU STILL LOVE HIM? HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY LOVE THAT MADMAN.....!"

Dropping to his knees Aaron arched his back and raised his head to the sky and unleashed an unfathomable and intense spout of fire from his mouth. As the flames reached the top of the Tree of Life Aaron's eyes glassed over as he could feel his spirits of Fire become stronger, angrier, and more intense. The shift in the balance of his spirits was completed the spout of fire died down causing Aaron to drop to all fours and begin pant as if he ran a marathon.

Olivia hastily, clumsily stood up and backed away from the boy when the display of immolation erupted. While absorbing spirits was usually a delight, there was no guarantee that their effects would be. The girl remained where she had moved to, a few steps away from Aaron, as the boy’s and the spirits’ anger and rage somewhat settled and he was forced to recover. “You’re the one who would have died, Aaron, and I’ve already told you that I can’t lose you or anyone else here. I mean, you saw what he turned into… that monster. It would have ripped you to dust,” she said and folded her arms across her stomach.

Aaron felt as if he was burning up from the inside out as the spirits seemed to be settling into their new arrangement. Aaron so desperately wanted to cry out to Olivia and beg for help, but the memories of their argument in the depths of their pseudo prison kept playing through his head and when he stopped for a moment to really think about everything that happened, he was still reeling from he comments. As Aaron wobbly rose to his feet he gazed at Olivia with the same hurt look he had given her back at the platform, but spoke with just enough resentment for the words to be felt like venom,

"Yeah, wouldn't want to dissipoint you by dying now would I?"

With that he walked away leaving Olivia to be stunned by his words. Aaron tried to make himself turn around and explain himself to her but for the first time since he had learned about his Guardian nature, he heard his spirits "speak" to him and they kept telling him to walk away.

---

---

ｔｒｅｅ ｏｆ ｌｉｆｅ»

----- Tree of Life -----
The only reason why Kimberly was running around the ruins like a parent trying to find a lost child was because almost as soon as the group was teleported to their current unknown location, Kimberly noticed that Jynette, Thael, Katherine, and Fredrick were not with them. Kimberly immediately began to panic. He had to find them. After announcing to the smaller group that he would investigate the area for their missing members, Kimberly frantically started his search. He looked everywhere that he could. His ears tried to find the slightest echo of each of his friend distinct sounds. He even used his dog spirit to find a sent. Yet, he failed to find any trace of them. It was obvious the four were nowhere near them. A significant amount of time passed for the black haired giant to finally admit that, however.

Kimberly stood on top of the highest structure in the ruins that barely managed to exist. He was tired, mentally and physically. So much ---too much--- had happened in a span of a few days: the past hours, especially. His friends going MIA only added more to the anxiety. Kimberly cursed himself, although he was well aware that there was nothing he could have done to prevent the current situation from happening.

Some “prince’s stallion” I am. Damn it! Wasn’t this exactly why I decided to join WARG?

“To increase the chances of their survival? Kim, you made that promise to yourself as a medical expert, not some…. Anti… displacement device mabober. Then again, you also joined because you didn’t want to be left behind.”

Kimberly almost fell off from where he stood at the familiar voice. He glared at his roommate who was levitating next to Kimberly in the air. Ghost smirked, “you do get lonely very easily.”

You! YOU!
“Me! ME!”
Where were you this whole time!?
“Aw, did you miss me?”
Stop that. I had enough of “not giving me a straight answer” for one day. Where were you?
Ghost shrugged and folded his arms, “somewhere in your mind, I would think.”
I---… Kimberly stopped midsentence, when Ghost raised his hand.
“I’m quite serious when I say that I have no idea what happened, Kim. I’ve been feeling… weird since the Caudata. It only got worse to the point that I guess… I guess I lost conscious when we met,” Ghost paused, searching for names to fit the face(s), “Sofia and Verena.”
Sofia… AND Verena? Who’s Verena?
“Well, I don’t know. That other chick! I can’t tell the difference between them! It’s not like how Mil consumed the Caudata! It’s not so… Why are you looking at me like that?”

Kimberly stared at Ghost as if he was a madman who claimed that all life was made out of cheese. What on earth are you talking about? Ghost returned the look to Kimberly, “what on earth are YOU talking about?” And so began the game of “who can make the most perplexed stare”. Unfortunately for Kimberly, his inflexible facial muscles ---created from one of the hardest stones on Atlas--- made him look more angry than confused. The game would have ended in Ghost’s victory if the game had not been cut short when their ears caught wind of Aaron’s yelling.

"WHY DID YOU STOP ME!! I COULD HAVE KILLED HIM, I COULD HAVE BURNED HIM TO CINDERS BUT YOU HAD TO STOP ME WHY??!! IS IT BECAUSE YOU STILL LOVE HIM? HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY LOVE THAT MADMAN.....!" A pillar of fire came shooting up from the ground, into the sky. As a Guardian, Kimberly could feel the power of Aaron’s spirits become stronger even from a distance. As he saw the fire die out, Kimberly jumped down from the structure and jogged his way back to where he thought the fire came from; the place where the remaining WARG group should have been.

On his way to the group, Kimberly spotted Aaron stomping off into a different direction. The expression on his face and from how unsettled his spirits was, Kimberly hesitated to say something to Aaron. It was only after Aaron was quite a distance away from him, did Kimberly finally decide to follow his friend.

---

After spending some time with Aaron ---though most of it was spent with Kimberly standing silently, listening to whatever Aaron wanted to say, healing any physical wounds he may have had since Kimberly could not heal the heart, and making sure his hotheaded friend would not do something stupid--- the giant eventually left Aaron to his own thoughts. Before leaving his friend, Kimberly told him, “please… don’t just… disappear… whatever you choose to do… please… at least tell us.”

Although he was fully aware the possibilities of the MIA friends being present was slim, Kimberly still felt disappointed when he returned to only see Olivia, Emily, Remiel, Royce, Magdalena, and Sofia ---or was she Verena? If anyone asked if Kimberly had any luck finding anything to indicate the whereabouts of their missing friends, the giant shook his head weakly. Now that he was much calmer than before he ran around in panic to find his friends, Kimberly finally took the time to check if anyone required healing or checkup: especially Remiel, from his brief fight with “Samuel” and Emily, who still had not received proper medical attention since the Caudata. Kimberly sighed once he did what he could, wishing there was more he could have done.

A soft breeze combed itself through Kimberly’s long hair and beard, gently caressing his cheek.

The sound of singing bowls called for Kimberly’s attention.

For the first time since their arrival, Kimberly looked directly at the mystical tree. The wind blew again, pushing the tree’s branches, making sounds that no normal tree would have made: singing bowls. Or maybe Kimberly was just simply hearing things again? It would not have surprised him if that was the case.

Kimberly had never seen a Tree of Life in his entire life, yet it made him feel nostalgia. A majority of the spirits, especially the plant spirits, seemed to agree with their host. They floated closer to the tree as if they were finally going to a place they belonged to, but then stopped abruptly. Though they did not have heads to turn, Kimberly could feel the spirits shifting their attention onto Kimberly. They were waiting for him.

The closer he got to the tree, however, the more he felt like something was attempting to pull him away, until finally the giant could not get any closer. An invisible wall prevented him from advancing. He was an animal trapped in a zoo, staring freedom in the face, but unable to make it his own. On the other side of the invisible wall, Kimberly’s plant and earth spirits continued to beckon him. How much he would have loved to go with them: the Tree of Life felt so welcoming. What was holding him back like shackles, then?

Hearing the sound of chains rattling behind him, Kimberly turned around. Ghost and the remaining spirits that resided in Kimberly ---the animal and sound spirits--- stood as far away as they could from the tree while keeping close to Kimberly as they possibly could. The sight confused him: why did they, more specifically Ghost, seem so uneasy about the beautiful and comforting tree?

“Kimberly,” Ghost said, “don’t go any further… I-… I can’t go pass that line.”

The black haired giant turned back towards the invisible wall, touching it to confirm that “this” was most likely the “line” Ghost was referring to. Could Kimberly forcefully break his way through it? From how everyone else ---his friends that he knew existed in real life--- was able to get closer without much of a problem, Kimberly could only assume there was no real danger. Why not?

Ghost smiled weakly, “because your grandparents told you ghost stories about beautiful trees that lulls you into a false sense of security before they take your soul.” The man graciously added a ghostly “Ooo!” sound effect into the last part of his sentence.

Wow. That was years ago and totally out of context. The Tree of Life doesn’t rip out the soul of the living right from its body---…
“They just take spirits to a ‘better place’? Yeah. That sounds like the afterlife. Nope. No. No. We’re staying right here. Alive... or whatever it is in my case.”
Seriously? Didn’t you see the others get closer and be perfectly fine?
“Still, I’m scared sh*tless. My fragile heart cannot bare such fear, oh good sir.” Ghost’s facial expression and tone were sarcastic, but Kimberly’s eyes caught the slight shivering in Ghost’s legs.

Kimberly sighed and backed away from the invisible wall. Okay fine. I won’t go near the tree. It felt like a missed extraordinary experience, but once Kimberly saw Ghost’s relieved smile, he thought that maybe he made the right choice. And you said I was the one who gets lonely easily.

“Come on, you’re the only constant source of social interaction I have! I think it goes without saying that I’m a loner.” Ghost glanced over to the direction the remaining WARG members were at: People that he had seen just as many times as Kimberly had, yet was never truly able to interact with them like any real being could have. Whatever was passed the “line” probably meant that Ghost would be left behind, somewhere alone. Or at least, that was what Ghost seemed to think would happen.

Kimberly turned to the earth and plant spirits. Sorry guys. I can’t go over there… but I won’t force you to stay here. That tree… that tree feels… like paradise. So I understand you wanting to leave. If, you do go, let me thank you guys… You’ve been a great help. I wouldn’t have been able to get this far without you. The spirits seemed to be disappointed in Kimberly’s final choice and he thought they would just go on without him. Instead, they returned to him, bringing along quite a number of new spirit friends along with them. He felt his powers as a Guardian increase. He thanked his old spirits for choosing to stay with him and welcomed the newcomers.

While Kimberly returned to his WARG friends, he heard Ghost complaining to the plant and earth spirits for bringing fungus and bacterium spirits back “home” in the background. As entertaining as Ghost’s ranting must have been, Kimberly ---everyone--- had more pressing matters to attend to.

There were too many unanswered questions, but also so much information that was just thrown at the group without time for them to processes it. They didn’t even know where the remaining others vanished and they still had a plate full of problems already. The team needed to organizes their thoughts and their feelings. Kimberly asked the question that everyone was not entirely ready to reply to, “what… just happened… back there?”

And what were they going to do next?

---

That was a lot to take in, a lot to chew on, and apparently he and his friends didn't quite have the time to digest everything. Now, especially, was a difficult time to process everything that had just occurred. It was easy, from that point on, to boil things down to the simplest of measures; however cheesy it may have sounded, it was probably wise to find Thael, or Olivia, or Emily. He needed some form of clarity that the current events swirling in his head didn't quite provide. What was there in front of him, however, he could clearly process: the mud in his face and the grime rolling off him was very real, as was the pain in his side. So much for rest and recuperation, though that didn't seem to necessarily matter, as it was his choice to continue on.

The tree was the next thing to come to him, radiating its intense heat in a flurry, though he felt more relaxed than worried. His spirits tensed for but a moment before relaxing around him, swirling in a radiant blaze of ecclesiastical light. It didn't last for much long, though, as everything settled into a calming glaze in the back of his mind. The next to come were his friends, or what was left of them. He could have sworn he'd seen Thael in the bunch, at least on the catwalk with—Roy shook the thoughts out of his head. That didn't concern him as much as the lives of his friends. They were all there except for a few and Olivia seemed determined to find the rest, wherever they were.

It been only mere moments before Roy left completely, the tree, his friends, everything, down the muddied tracks and to god knew where. And all the searching he felt he needed to do then, all the shouting for them, specifically him, felt completely useless then. Guess he could call it intuition that Thael and all of them were much too far and it all found him staring quietly at his muddied shoes, sitting on a random rock in the desolate ruins. He'd barely heard the rustling in the leaves and the fall of footsteps behind him. It was obvious who it was, but Roy's eyes never left his feet. She'd seen him distraught before, but this didn't really look much like a distraught Roy or a spurned lover. It was more dejected, like everything seemed to crash down all at once and he'd just given up.

"Hey, have you seen Thael anywhere? I can't seem to find him," Olivia inquired.

"No, he's not here; I have no idea where he is, either."

"They're gone, aren't they?" he mumbled. He didn't bother looking; Olivia cared far more about their tight knit family to look for him a few minutes after he'd left. "I don't want to talk about what happened, Olivia, if that's why you're here."

As she approached and met Roy’s presence, Olivia gently placed a hand on his neck which followed her movement down his shoulder and arm to his hand, as she came around to face him. She crouched by his side, gently squeezing his hand with hers. “Hey… we’ll find them, okay?” she said. Olivia softly pushed Roy’s chin up with tip of her fingers, so that he would meet her eyes. “We’ll find him, I promise,” she continued, after which her lips lightly touched his cheek, as she stood up. “Come on, I’ll walk you back,” Olivia said.

The touch was softer than before, as if something had changed inside Olivia; the static to her touch was replaced with a much kinder gentleness. Roy responded only with a small smile, however, as he acknowledged her presence with the grin and upturned brows. His eyes searched hers for a moment, as she spoke to him, but couldn't hold for but a few seconds as they fell to her fingers on his chin.

"I wouldn't promise something like that," he mumbled, but grinned to lighten the tone of his words, "I don't know if finding them is our top priority, though." Roy let his gaze return toward Olivia's, his grin all but vanishing, replaced with furrowed brows and pursed lips. His jaw sharpened as his teeth clenched down and his eyes darted away as Olivia kissed his cheek. He stood with her, keeping the sternness glued to his features.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" Roy asked. Olivia halted her apathetic pace for a split second before continuing to walk alongside the boy, locking arms with him: “We’re not going to die. What a thing to say.”

"I've run this through my head a million times and none of the outcomes are good, at least not for us. So, why not leave a few of us? Why not give us an out, give them an out?" Roy made a noise in the back of his through, then coughed and looked away. "I can't... I can't bare to see any of you die, but you know I wouldn't leave. I'm not going to make assumptions, but give a person a good enough reason and they'll be gone before you know it. So, why not give whomever you can salvation? Let them decide because I can't bare to see any of us die."

The palm of his hand stopped the tears that pooled in his eyes the moment he felt the sting. He pressed them against his cheeks and let them fall to his sides. "I want to find Thael, more than anything right now. But the truth is, I shouldn't because dragging him back into this will put his blood on my hands and you know it. But I—Olivia, I don't know what to do anymore and I'm sorry. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, but not if Thael dies. Not if we bring this kind of suffering onto him; we let him, them go and do this with whoever is stupid enough to come. Please, promise me that, Olivia. If you're going to promise anything, promise me he won't die in all of this."

Olivia stopped their treading again by standing in front of Roy. “Hey… hey, sweetie” she said and wrapped her arms deeply around his neck, standing on the tip of her toes, catching his eyes wherever they went: “Listen, nothing is going to happen to Thael, or anybody else for that matter. I wouldn’t allow it for anything in the world. Whatever happens, nothing of it will be your fault,” she said and released her embrace of the boy, catching a few droplets of tears that were running down his carmine cheeks, with her fingers. “I need you, here and now, to be strong” Olivia dusted his shoulders and straightened his apparel, and then she gently pushed his chin up again. “Okay?”

"That's a lot to ask of me, Olivia," Roy said, though smiled in spite of himself. He gestured toward where they'd come from and continued, "I think our priority is keeping them safe first, though. Make sure they get out of this alive with the rest of us, right? I don't know what else do to aside from giving them an out, but I trust you, Olivia; I think we all do." Gripping her hand as she released him, Roy gave her a soft smile with eyebrows raised. He gestured against toward where they'd come from, but waited only for Olivia before he began to move.

The girl locked arms with the boy as they began to move towards the tree. “He has destroyed our lives, Roy. We owe it to ourselves to see this through, and get to the bottom of whatever it is that Sam is doing. I’m not so sure how safe things will be, but I… we need to do this,” she said and paused for a moment, staring into the ground before her. “It’s the only thing that has ever mattered.”

"We..." he started, clearing his throat, "We've got a long way to go, don't we? I'm scared of where this road leads us, but I'm willing to follow if you're willing to lead the way."

Olivia shot a glance at the distant horizon through the broken houses and ashy structures of the ruins, and all that she could see were immense, intimidating mountains. “Haven’t I always tried to steer the boat for all of you? I can’t imagine a day or a circumstance where I wouldn't want to,” she said and sighed, “I love you guys with all my heart, and if it ever comes down to it… I…” Olivia hesitated at the thought of it; of choosing between her friends and Samuel. She did not have an answer. For a split second, she feared that she would choose him over them, but she did not say it. “I’d see to your safety before my own or anyone else’s.”