Unknown Location
Bantam specks of cerulean colored dust began to form and converge on each other at the edge of a precipice overlooking a vast valley of pine forests and jagged mountains. The effect intensified and within a moment, Samuel’s physical presence emerged from the sparkling effervescent residue created by the displacement device that brought him to the wilderness of Anatolia. He held in his hand a peculiar object, organic in nature, which he inspected with care, unbeknownst of the presence which observed him from a cascade nearby.

The scenery from the precipice was overlooked by a playful cascade clad with spouts of stone and trees, moss and rock that parted the steaming water in a blanket of strings and strips, a falling spider web. Samuel was slightly startled at the presence by the flow, but calmed when he noticed who it was. The girl had a lithe body, a short, loose blue dress, and bright blonde hair falling in perfect waves around her head. She was sitting along the bank at the top of the cascade, leaning back on her hands and dangling her feet in the water. She was also humming; tuneless vocalizations that seemed to peak and fall as she kicked out her feet and pulled them back again. Samuel knew she was beautiful, or at least, this projection of her was, but he also knew it was no realer than he was. As he approached, she gave him a smile and a little wave.

Samuel hastily slipped the object into his pocket again. “What are you doing here?”
The woman shrugged: “I got bored, and I thought you'd come here. I was right!” She looked back at the water and frowned. “There were some birds here earlier. I don't know where they went.”
“You got bored, huh?” Samuel smirked, “I remember the days when I shared those feelings, but that’s a long time ago. Besides, it’s difficult to be bored around someone like yourself,” he said and gazed towards the top of the cascade where the belle frolicked with her feet in the water. Samuel nodded his head slightly as a sign for her to come down.

She grinned down at him, and vanished. He heard her voice behind him. “Maybe that's why I'm so exciting!"

“Hah,” Samuel chuckled and turned around slowly. “Well, for once, I’m going to be the exciting one when I tell you the news,” he said; approached her and wrapped his arms around her body, connecting his hands at the arch of her lower back. Her scent was of smooth lavender and brisk ocean breeze, her lips pleasingly plump and voluptuous. “But, first, you have to give me a twirl,” he said and loosened his embrace of the girl.

She giggled and stepped back, out of his embrace, twirling around. Her dress billowed up around her thighs, and settled back down as she stepped back towards him. "Tell me tell me tell me!"

Samuel caught her hands as she approached and swirled her around to position himself behind the girl, her arms crossing her chest and stomach. He whispered in her ear: “I found a way home, a way to confront him.”

"Really?" she said. "What do we have to do? How soon?"

“Do you remember how father said that he created Phyrexia to unleash the kami upon each other in order to prevent our rebellious brothers and sisters from manipulating those feral beings into joining their cause? Well, that wasn’t true; he lied, just as he lies about everything else,” Samuel said.

He turned the girl around to face him, tilting his head towards the stars. “Phyrexia was a relic into which the former Divine Etro poured all his hate when father struck him down, and it's the only thing that can destroy the Simulacrum. We can end the repetition, you and me, right now. And once father is on his knees before us, you can say whatever you want to him.”

The blonde girl stared up at the stars with him, eyes wide. They were staring back - as they always had.

"And then what?" she asked.

“And then we shall take his place,” he said and gazed into her eyes.

She stared back. Her eyes were big and blue, and though they were bright and loving, there was something in them Samuel could never quite place - determination? Obstinance? No, nothing so banal. More a drive, raw, mystic passion. For what, he was never quite sure. Nevertheless, she smiled wide, giggled again, and kissed him on the nose. He blinked, and she was gone, running off towards the forest, laughing.



The Tree of Life
“What happened back there was…” Olivia hesitated for a moment, again. Her thoughts were conducting a violent battle inside her mind, throwing arguments and counter arguments at each other with total disregard for what her heart attempted to manipulate the matter with. And in the midst of this pandemonium, she could feel a looming presence of absolute void growing stronger by the minute; it was the twirling of her newly found spirits, which silently observed Olivia’s personality and feelings towards matters of great importance to her, waiting to nudge her in a direction of their choosing.

“I don’t know what happened, Kim, but I do know this: if anything of what Samuel said is true, we have got serious problems and we need to warn the academy. We have to take this directly to Cid; maybe he has a clue… I mean, he was in the army for years, a highly decorated general, he is bound to know a thing or two about these matters,” Olivia said, but unsure of what the right course of action actually was. She tilted her head downwards and away from the boy, and the rest of them, closing her eyes: “Or, I don’t know; we need to get away from this place, that’s for sure, so that’s what we’ll do,” she continued and faced them again.

Her tread was light and doubtful. So many things had happened in such a short time that Olivia had barely had the chance to process it all. It was a delayed fuse, and it hit her all at once. The dark haired girl was not often prone to introspection or brooding, but it did happen from time to time. However, she always made sure that it happened in private, away from her friends. She was supposed to be the beacon of light; she was supposed to be the solid rock against which they could support in times of duress, not the other way around. Olivia halted at the touch of her newly found weapon. It had already become an icon of her personal sanctuary.

“It’s difficult to believe that just two days ago we woke up in our beds, safely at the academy, from a long night of cheer and festivities…,” she folded her arms across her stomach. “…It seems as if so much has happened since then, and so fast, that I…,” she choked on the tears the she could feel were plotting behind her eyes. “…I don’t really know what to think or feel,” she finally continued. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I’ve always been there for all of you, but this is different. I don’t know why they chose me over any one of you, I really don’t, but I think all of that is irrelevant now. What this is, what we have to do, involves all of us equally, and in that realization, I think that I’ll be able to do what you expect of me, what the academy expects of me,” Olivia spoke. The girl made sure to make eye contact with everyone before she concluded. “Let’s go; we have a long hike in front of us.”

The Anatolian Wilderness
The friends defeated terrain and rocky obstacles for what felt an eternity, for nine times the space that measured day and night. Their journey had taken them through pinewood valleys and over frozen, jagged mountains, and into the heart of a blizzard. For all Olivia knew, they were completely lost. She could barely hold on to her sword, as frozen as she was; and she had clung to some of her friends for body heat, and heat generated by certain spirits, for the past few miles.

They were already exhausted from fighting the high altitudes and deep snow. It was at this moment, when they could barely see or hear past their own feet, that she appeared to them. Not even Kimberly had heard her coming, if she had come at all. For all they knew, she was there all along. Olivia was startled when she suddenly saw a pair of unknown feet not a meter before her. They were barely visible in the thick flurry of storm carried snowflakes all around them. The dark haired girl was just about to let loose her massive blade upon the presence when she noticed who it was: Elizabeth Ashford.

They had not seen her because she did not want to be seen. Even her imposing long-range rifle was clad in appropriate, white camouflage. She was a ghost; one among the illustrious Scout Snipers of the Special Warfare and Reconnaissance Group. Olivia had gotten to know her when she was still at the academy, through various festivities and casual cups of coffee together. But, Elizabeth graduated two years before her and the rest of them, so Olivia had not seen her since. It was peculiar, though, that they would run into her here, of all places. “Liz, is that you?” Olivia finally uttered. However, as wise as the battle hardened girl was, Elizabeth knew that the middle of a blizzard was not the ideal place for explanations or idle chatter. Thus, she urged the friends to follow her out of the storm.

At the very top of some unknown height, Elizabeth halted their pace. They stood face to face with a crystal lake that reflected the world around it, perfectly. It was completely undisturbed until the friends tasted its fresh water. Olivia rooted her blade into the ice and embraced Elizabeth: “I never thought I could be surprised again, not after today’s events, but I guess I was wrong — what are you doing here?” She said, displaying her long lost, iconic fluorescent smile.



Later...

By now it was hardly a surprise that something did not appreciate their presence at the lake, around the bantam glacier at the base of Twin Mountains. Whenever they tried to rest, they were interrupted by things that wanted to kill them. There were eldritch things lurking in the rocky and icy crevices nearby. Kimberly uttered a sharp, but moderately silent whistle to catch Olivia’s and everyone else’s attention, as he had heard the creatures floundering about. Olivia, frozen to the core in her skimpy t-shirt, interrupted her water-drinking break and grabbed her titanic sword that was rooted in the ice close by.

They were all silent, and they observed. Kimberly pinpointed a direction from which the attack would come, and he was correct. From the depths of the mountain came a vast horde of blob-like, boneless, creatures without any noticeable pigment. They were jagged, with a maw that contained a single, molten eye. It was nearly impossible to tell if the creatures had once been something else, or if they were xenomorphs mutated by the darkness below ground. Whatever they were, they were detestable. Luckily, they were not particularly sized, nor were they particularly fast moving, but they were many; and there appeared to be larger variations of them, whom directed the smaller ones.

Olivia instantly reached for her tagger gun, but in the same instant, she noticed that it was gone. The Nautilus Guards had probably confiscated it, or perhaps she had lost it during the teleportation to the Tree of Life; who knew where it was. The girl cursed beneath her breath. It was an inconvenience that could quickly turn into a disaster. “My tagger gun is gone!” Olivia shouted. The blobs spewed forth from every possible fissure and cleft that they could see; it was almost overwhelming. “Okay, the big ones are probably influencing the little ones somehow, try to take them out!” the girl continued.

Notes: (1) This timeline, “The Anatolian Wilderness,” will be a continuous timeline in which there will always be a battle between our characters and monsters. There will, of course, be battles in other timelines, but I’ve decided to keep one of these constants for various reasons. Also, with this timeline, you can never say: “I have nothing to write.” When you want to post, warm up with a battle scene. (2) There are maybe hundreds of these tiny-blob creatures, but they are not bound to the stagger system, so you can kill them freely. However, the ‘bigger’, leader-type versions are bound to the stagger system.

----- 3Gs: Ghost’s Guessing Game -----
Despite being the person to initiate the discussion of “what happened”, Kimberly did not speak for a majority of said discussion. He did, at one point, attempt to comfort Olivia with a friendly gesture of placing his hand on her shoulder ---letting the warmth of the healing plants sink in, although they still could not heal things that were not physical, he hoped their warmth provided some solace---, but that was the extent of his activeness. He should have stayed focused on the conversation at hand, but in the corner of his eye, Kimberly could see that his roommate was doing something. A quick glimpse informed the giant that Ghost was staring intently into a familiar looking retro television.

What are you doing?
“Catching up on what I missed out on.”
You’re looking into my memory.
“Yep.”
What do you think?
“Well, I think many things. For example, man, everyone has a fantastic ass. Lena looks gorgeous. I hope there’s civilization near by, because I don’t think we want to sleepover out here tonight.”
You know what I mean.

Kimberly watched an old TV gracefully slide its way into his visual field and stop at a 60-degree angle from where the giant was facing. Ghost followed the TV and sat on top of it, facing Kimberly, while Kimberly himself continued to face straight ahead. “If this is Samil. This cannot be him alone in that body.”
Spirits?
“Whatever that is capable of changing him into this.” Ghost pointed at the TV’s monitor between his legs, which projected the creature Samuel transformed into. “If it was spirits, then Samil is one strong Aggressor. That or those are some really powerful spirits, but I thought I felt something… I don’t know… something more concentrated in power. Not just a bunch of spirits… but… something.”
”Something” is kind of a broad term, don’t you think?
“Well if I knew what it was, I’d say it. Either way Samil gained a lot of power while he was not-actually-dead.”

The TV below Ghost started to play out the entire reunion with Samuel from the start.

“You hear how he talks?”
Again, you’ll have to be more specific.
“How he says certain things. Like right here.”

“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.” Samuel on the TV said. The “film” fast-forwarded. “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.” Then again. “This is not the end, my dear.” Then once more. “You think you know so much, my dear Olivia, yet you know nothing.”

Sam… first says “our friends” then suddenly changes it to “your beloved friends”.
“At first we know it was Samil, or someone posing as Samil, the possibilities are limitless, but let's just say it's Samil for now. So unless he never considered any of you his friends this whole time, my guess is that at some point during the conversation, this… other… thing took over.”
Sounds… oddly familiar.
“Not to mention how he referred to Vi as ‘my dear’.”
What’s wrong with that?
“Since when did he ever call Vi ‘my dear’? Wasn’t it Vi who had the crush on Samil? They never went out, right?”
It might just be the equivalent of Maw-maw calling a random child on the street “sweetie”: it could mean nothing.
“Or it might mean more than you think. I mean, come on! If anything, that’s all this man’s been harping about!”
Okay, seriously? What are you talking about?
“Reincarnation!”

As if to back up Ghost’s wild theory, the TV rewound the film and began playing the scene again. “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.” The film skipped ahead. “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.”

“Unless Daemon is talking about alternate dimensions or parallel worlds, I think he’s talking about reincarnation. ‘My dear’, might not be what Samil called Vi in this life, but maybe it’s what he called her in another!”
That’s… kind of a big leap.
“Maybe, but you can’t deny that Samil thinks that the reincarnation thing is true. Even if it sounds crazy, he believes it. And it’s what’s compelling him to do… whatever it is he is doing now… to stop the endless cycle. To defeat this ‘ruler’; the ‘father’.”
And who’s that supposed to be?
“Someone or something that Daemon believes is the all mighty last boss.” Ghost paused in thought, “although… That’s kind of weird too. Daemon said that the kamis went extinct. So unless he doesn’t know what the word extinct means… why would he need… an artifact that allows kamis to hurt other kamis? There’s no kami left in the world to hurt.”
Maybe this “father” is not a kami, but someone that possess the same amount of power as one?
“Possibly.”
And, actually… back up a second. Let’s just say that your reincarnation theory is actually right. Why is there this… dissociative identity disorder happening? If Sam was a reincarnation of someone and that… someone is in Sam, making him say “my dear” to Olive and calling us “your friends”… then why do they have two different identities? I’m not sure if you can call that reincarnation.
Ghost shrugged, “I dunno.”
You’re terrible at this.
“Hey. You asked what I thought and I gave you my theory.” Ghost sighed for a moment, “if I were to guess, I bet whatever it is… if there is another thing inside of Samil… it might be the reason why he is doing all of this.”
Kimberly mentally sighed as well. In the end, it’s all speculation. We don’t have enough information on… on anything, really. We… we know nothing.

The two said nothing for a while, before Ghost spoke again, sticking three fingers up, “we---… you guys have basically three choices. One. Go search for the missing guys and decide on this matter then. Two. You head back to Oakridge or Norton City. From there, you can decide whether or not to talk to your superiors about this and maybe something will happen. But I personally think they’ll just think you’re all crazy and send you off to your next assignment. So you better be careful who you talk to. Three. Don’t do any of the first two and just focus on tracking down Samil. In which case, you better find someone or someplace that has extensive knowledge on the shenanigans that Daemon was ranting about before you try to search for him.”

I… we can’t just leave the others! What if they need our help?

“I’ll have to vote against that. They could have been teleported, literally, anywhere in the world. What makes you think a group of people can find them on their own? If I were you, I’d inform an organization or group with international connections to keep an eye out for them. If they’re alive and well, I’m sure they’ll pop up somewhere. With WARG missing, I’m pretty sure Oakridge will send out a search party regardless. You are their tools of mass destruction. They’d hate to misplace you guys.”

But what if they aren’t well? They might need our help.

“Again, there’s not much you can do. By the time you miraculously find them, they’d probably be dead and not well at all.”

Kimberly bit on his bottom lip.

“Just… talk with the group and decide what to do next. It’s not like I got a say in this anyways.”

---

----- Anatolian Wilderness -----
It was difficult to say whether the group made a decision concerning Samuel, but it was agreed upon that they needed to move out of the ruins. Sometime later, it became painfully obvious that they were somewhere deep in Anatolia. The cold made some of the animals spirits request that Kimberly hibernate until spring came. As much as he wanted to agree, it was already June. If there was going to be a blizzard in June, then spring was not going to make this place any warmer.

Kimberly shivered, wishing that the Caudata hadn’t destroyed his armor. The only thing that was protecting him from the cold was his uniform and his beard. He desperately wanted some warmth.

“Remember that suggestion you made to Vi some time ago? You know, about carrying her? Why don’t you just have everyone hang on you to make a crude… human coat. It’ll totally be fashion forward. Or even better, hug Lena. Maybe her dragon touch can keep us warm.... or possibly burn you into a crisp, but at least you won't freeze to death.”

Aaron’s fire might work just as well. Kimberly quickly regretted mentioning Aaron.

It took a moment for Ghost to respond, as Kimberly expected, but when he did finally speak, his voice still kept the playful tone. “But that’s not half as hot as Lena.” Ghost grinned, “haha! See what I did there?”

Please stop talking.

---

Meeting Elizabeth was one of, if not THE one good thing that happened to them during their journey through the Anatolian wilderness. It would have been too good to be true if they managed to reach civilization without the xenomorphs attacking them on the way.

“You think you can fight without your armor?”

Kimberly silently surveyed the area. There were too many Blobs to simply ignore. I doubt I have much of a choice. The giant was prepared to fight bare fist, when the spirits inside him stopped him. Confused by the interruption, he halted. What’s wrong? He listened to them and became even more confused. I can do what now? Kimberly and Ghost exchanged looks.

Ghost shrugged, “I guess it’s something new you can do now thanks to that tree. They seem pretty confident about. Why not try it out?”

Hesitantly, Kimberly agreed.

When the excruciating pain came next, he suddenly regretted his decision.

---

Ｔｒｅｅ ｏｆ Ｌｉｆｅ

---

The dejected wealth of emotions permeating the air seemed to take on physical notions, in various colours and hues of willow wisp blue, and each and every singular tendril followed Magdalena; was grasped by ebony, spiritual wreaths of spirits, as if ingesting the despondency of her companions through the standards of a glutton until the eternal obscurity of her silhouette was swollen to the figurative edges of its mass. She felt it, and thus so despised it, her own empathy vulnerable now that her former, fickle belief on whatever swayed the world was shattered and now descending onto a path of hopeless prophecy. She would never admit to herself, or to anyone for that matter, that she couldn’t help but believe that whatever Samuel had been sputtering about in manic prose had seemed right. It made sense, to her, for she did not believe in the reverence of Kami, but could only hold light to the religion that whatever higher power dictated their existence was utterly malicious and cruel in design and sadistic by means of influence. And so what Sam had championed so strongly just fell naturally into that process, that this was something beyond their control and that, in some manner, had happened countless times before them. Tortures, deaths, a war that could not be explained but only fought on the universal belief that it just “had to be done”, the heralding of children to foster power in their hearts and ascend into battle with the crests of their master on their breasts.

And if he was determined to stop that, that miserable, eternal chain of sequencing pain and agony - who were they to stand in his way?

Now, not for the first time since they left Oak Ridge, Magdalena examined the pin to her tattered uniform, the wolf emblazoned was a heavy reminder that this was WARG and they did things no one else could, it set them upon a higher place, a bigger responsibility, and a much longer fall. The pale figure sighed, a pluming breath of white that hazed before her eyes before she picked up her chakram and slung it across her back, still disturbed by her former conversation with Emily, still helplessly tumbling from her failure and the lack of acknowledgment in that the blonde had unwittingly struck her to the core. Perhaps her words could be casually dismissed on catty bitchiness festered by the terrifying unknown of those pulsating growths, but Magdalena couldn’t be so easily forgiving in that she had only wanted to try and help and failed miserably in doing so. Her blue eyes, bearing a certain gleam in the gloom, flickered over the wreckage of this forlorn ruin, trying in vain intervals to find her smaller weapon. Somewhere in the transportation and infliction of vertigo, the circlet had been lost, but with that, also the reality that her red band was left behind, back at that hellacious office where worst fears were realized and now some of their beloveds too were displaced. Magdalena would mourn for them, probably for a long time until they were found - if that was even possible. She did not want to consider that secondary option and instead, fell to her knees and sunk her hands into the metal refuse and the mud, slicing open her fingers upon pointed scraps but the Anatolian girl could not care or bring herself to stop. She threw various pieces aside, barely seeing them, her body marginally flinching from the commotion she made when the debris clashed.

Aaron could feel his newly acquired spirits burn deeply within him, his conversation with Olivia had set into motion something that he feared that he would not be able to control. Instinctively Aaron's hand reached for the handle of his new weapon, down the length of the handle he fingered the letters that spelled out "Kagusuchi". Ever since he had found this new sword while traversing down to the depths until they met...Sam, he had been pondering the name. The sound of clattering had caught Aaron's attention so he made his way over to where he thought the sound was coming from. To his surprise Aaron found Magdalena digging with furious intent in the rubble of whatever city they were in. Images of their interaction on the boat brought an almost sense of calm to his troubled mind as he made the decision to make his way over.

"Maggie, what are you looking for?"

There was a jerking twitch in her right shoulder, the only indication of acknowledging Aaron's appearance and the timbre of his voice breaking through her feverish search that wasn't bearing any actual evidence. But her fingers did hesitate, blackened with mud and trembling with gaping slivers that looked to her as tiny, ruby smiles that mocked her. Her brow fell and her blue eyes darkened before she suddenly reached through the rubbish and plucked out a sliver of metal, random in figuration before she launched it over the twitch of her shoulder in a careless configuration of aim, only assuming by where his voice had come from.

"Go away." She muttered, resuming her hopeless endeavor.

Maggie's cold and harsh response threw him off guard as he dodged the random hunk of metal that she threw carelessly aside. The sense of yet another friend being disappointed in something that he has done sent his angry spirits into a frenzy, although Aaron was trying everything that he could to keep them calm at the moment,

"What's the matter Maggie? Have I disappointed you too?"

His own response gave her pause, once again with trembling digits poised above blood spattered scraps and disturbed, ancient remains of time. Magdalena's shadow, having drunk off of the air peppered and coiling with emotional disturbance, lazily reached out and spun around Aaron's feet as if attracted by his spirits boiling away within his soul, she could relate to that turmoil, her skin constantly wrapped into a vicious heat similar to his often righteous fury. Her palms lowered, balanced atop her knees before she tossed her cerulean gaze over her shoulder and merely gazed at him with apathetic indifference, her eyes ticking up his body where her shadow danced about in slow rotations. His inquiry drew her from the depths of her conflicted thought as her head inclined gradually in a curious notion then.

"Disappoint me?" She repeated, her lips turning down at the edges. "Hardly. If anything, I'm just disappointed in myself." Magdalena admitted.

Aaron watched as Maggie's thick shadow slinked its way over to him and began rotating around him with slow and lazy currents. Hearing the tone of sadness in her voice Aaron forced his spirits to calm before he made his way over Maggie and sat beside her. As he looked down at her hands and saw the crimson moons on her fingertips he grabbed one hand and looked at the wounds. With an uncanny fluid motion Aaron grabbed the minor first aid kit he kept for minor wounds, he couldn't help but smile,

"Sheesh Maggie, what were you digging through the trash for. Who knows what could happen if you weren't careful."

Carefully wrapping each finger with care, Aaron looked up at Maggie's deep cerulean eyes, which kept darting away from him in hopes to avoid his gaze,

"So tell me Maggie, what's going on...really? This isn't like you to sit alone digging through rubble."

Magdalena remained quiet, observing his motions while trying to keep from meeting his eyes or being caught in her scrutiny, his intentions seemed genuine, gentle, an attempt at something good and thoughtful and she sort of admired that whilst envying his ability to do so. Her skin flared up but he wouldn't be disturbed by the heat, she knew, that same conflagration was seeded within his own body, it made her think of Olivia when she had bid her to endure treatment much like this one. But there was that smile and the humourous scolding that was light, holding a slight tremor of careful teasing. Magdalena though dejectedly kept her stare to the fragments she had been riffling through, nothing there but a hole of refuse and dirt.

"I was looking..." She drifted off, her eyes flickering back to the careful wrapping as he dressed her fingers with the minor kit he provided. Her lashes swept low on her cheeks as she felt his stare flick across her face, another attempt in which she avoided as usual. Eyes were the gateway to the soul and she was terrified of what he - they - would see in hers.

"I just wanted to find my stuff." She muttered, unable to really admit what was bothering her, she didn't want to confess to her inner struggles, much like on the boat that seemed so far away, Magdalena wasn't able to open up at all no matter the concern he expressed.

He could sense the hesitation in her demeanor as he continued to bandage her fingers, her words belittling what was actually mulling around her head. After bandaging the last finger on the last hand, Aaron placed a gentle hand under her chin and brought his gaze to hers. After dealing with everything from the road to his last conversation with Olivia, Aaron was not going to let anyone feel like he did.

"Look, remember what I said on the boat? If you need to talk, I'm always right here...and I know that somethings bothering you? So why don't we skip the cat and mouse part and get right to the heart of it, hmmm?"

Tending to her hands was one thing, that she could marginally handle and endure without so much as a flinch or an attempt to draw back, psychical contact was gradually becoming regular for the pale girl despite her reservations and nightmares. But when his hand gently coaxed her eyes upward, her breath hitched and sputtered out in a gasp as her inhales became quick and sharp, her left eye snapped with the vermilion circle, glowing with the hellish magma and darkness that was threaded around her heart and soul whilst her opposite stare remained unchanged - half in and half out of her panic and discomfort of meeting the steelish azure of his veneer. Magdalena only spared him maybe a flickering flash of a second before her lashes fell and she felt a pulsating tremor across the left side of her visage. He mentioned the boat and her memory of it brought another wave of discomfort about the entire experience and the confusion of it all; she still couldn't describe entirely what it was and most of it paled in comparison to what occurred in Doral. She drew in a long breath, trying to soothe the emotional distress of the current circumstance before daring to answer to him - she owed him that, at least.

"I remember," she started. "I do." Her eyes snapped open.

"But - I just. With everything that has happened, I don't know what to believe anymore. I've never really followed the Kami, my family didn't believe really, but what Sam said. And all that we have endured, it just almost makes sense to me. And that creature he became." One of her hands seized up over her fatigues, clutching over her heart with the WARG emblem digging into her palm as she rushed her admission.

"I saw something when it looked at me..."

Aaron could see that something was bothering her, that whatever it was that she saw had truly shaken her to the core. In his best attempt to comfort her Aaron placed an gentle hand on her cheek, his hand warming unintentionally as it made full contact with her alabaster skin. He wasn't sure if what he was doing was helping her but he couldn't stand to see any more of his friends suffer.

"Hey...whatever it is I won't let it hurt you. I promise."

There was a snap beneath her skin, a hissing vibration when his palm curled against her cheek, spindles of what she could only assume as fire made fissures across her face in a clarifying touch of heat. Slowly the sclera of her untouched eye began to darken with the wisps of ink and ebony shadows, boiling into a deep, festering black as the molten ring that was trademark in her stare coiled tight around her iris like serpents borne from hell fire as she gazed up in a reminiscent of shock.

"Can you stop a monster?" Magdalena inquired, her voice pitching high in her afflicted soul as the swirling hell and fire in her eyes reflected the wailing creature within her - Chaos laughing as she remembered the vision of a darkened, dead world being swallowed whole by that thing, the thing that had been swarmed half in and half out of a golden, burning and sweltering darkness just like she was. The spirits with their flat faces, their masks of human grins and human teeth and their howling song that rose higher and higher until it reached a peak of ear-splitting screams that made her teeth clench.

"Can you stop a god?" She nearly tore his hand away from her cheek.

"You can't even stop yourself." She whispered, ending her bash of inquires by lowering her eyes and head, cradling one of her bandaged hands against her face and spearing nails into her skin, clawing at her temple to banish the orchestra of death inside her head of white plains and black suns.

As she tore his hand away from her cheek, Aaron listened patiently as she went through her series of questions. Everything she said was something that he had been pondering since they met back up with Sam. As her spirits began to act up and flare up Aaron could feel his well up in challenge of hers although he fought to keep his temper in check.

"For you...I could burn the world to ashes if it would mean that you would be safe. I may not be able control myself now, but I will use my anger against anyone that makes the mistake of threatening you."

Aaron moved to be face to face Magdalena meeting her gaze with an almost fierce determination, an unnatural fire that all could see. Putting his hand back onto her cheek he leaned close and lightly kissed her ruby lips softly. It wasn't something rushed but passion could be felt from it. He wasn't sure what it was he actually felt in that moment but he know how he felt about Maggie and that is what mattered to him.

It was such a light kiss, a one soft yet bridled with a passionate spark that seared across her mouth as her eyes widened, bled molten tears and around them her shadows - thick, swollen, black, jagged and sluicing like ink and sludge and boiling in their wake - burst from the seams of her body when Aaron Nyles did the one thing that was the pure, dark, epicentre of Magdalena's nightmares. Her body jerked back and she fumbled in her desperation to banish the emotion that had blossomed from it, the fierce gaze, his promises and the perfect image planted inside her head of the world burning under Aaron's temper; she had seen it in the sewers, this man bathed in thick, writhing blood and laughing gleeful over it, and she did not doubt that he would herald a terrible blaze to keep her safe - to keep them safe. Her fingers carved thick tracks into the mud as she put distance between them, her eyes still boiling and widening in shock and near disbelief that addled her heart so strongly that it hurt to breathe.

She saw the dark door, that terrible door with the mocking shafts of light that beamed through that terrible room and darkness. His voice dripping a horrid venom of malice and pain and promise of terrible agony.

Magdalena only shook her head, hard in denial, her fists bashing against her temples before she struggled up to her feet, only to fall again at the thick pools of shadows that tried to drag her down into their world. Their inky hands and writhing touch suctioned her ligaments into that figment of ebonette safety and blankets of despair from her intense emotions that were swirling around inside her heart. She gave Aaron once last look before she tore her body free from her shadows, the rest rising high in a cloud of black and pulsating red before she ran away as far as she could, stumbling over the wreckage and ruin.

---

'That wasn't the reaction I was expecting....'

The sheer terror that Maggie was experiencing was something that Aaron hadn't expected, there was a moment that he thought that she was feeling the same thing that he was but it soon became clear that there was something far more menacing that she hadn't told Aaron of. As she took of across the ancient ruins Aaron felt his feet instinctively take off after her, whatever she was experiencing...he had started the chain reaction.

"Maggie...wait!!"

Once again he had let his emotions get away from him and began kicking himself with every thunderous blow of his feet. Hopefully he could fix the mess that he had set in motion.

The panic and terror that Aaron had unknowingly unleashed was eclipsing her reasoning and banishing her basic reflexes, Magdalena fought against the deep sludge of shadows that had been grasping, tugging, trying to pull her into a netherworld of darkness as she ran, the boom of Aaron's voice and the sharp footfalls of his attempt in pursuing her making her quicken in haste. She dared not look back, afraid of the mass of spirits conglomerating behind her by the assuaging of her fears and nightmares surfacing in reality. Now her waking world was tampered, damaged by the softest, barest hints of skin on skin. Magdalena didn't know where she was going, only that she had to get away, away to a place where Chaos didn't mock her, where spirits didn't wail inside her soul and where the world just wasn't.

Now she sort of wished for a blackened, dead world to be swallowed whole, because then this wouldn't be happening.

She couldn't blame Aaron, could she? He didn't know, no one knew, or perhaps Kimberly did, of what happened so long ago in a terrible span of two years of due torture. But wasn't he in love with Olivia? Everyone had been aware of the infamous hothead's affections for the brunette, having been a long time admirer of her beauty and a champion of her heart. Maybe it was the realization of Samuel being very much alive that swindled his attention else where, but Magdalena couldn't, wouldn't be that secondary option in this game of desire, in which she was now an unwilling participant. Her demons were too much, too powering, unable to be drowned beneath the light of her friends and her own attempts to change, whatever it was that Aaron was seeking out in her, Magdalena was afraid that she wouldn't be able to give it to him.

To anyone. And her heart broke at that.

The pale girl stumbled once again, her palms scraping hard against the dirt as her knees dug harsh rivets into the earth when she fell. Her body trembled with exertion and she curled her arms around her torso to hold herself together as she struggled to capture her breath hitching within her chest and choking her throat in a harsh grasp. She counted out in her head, Anatolian numbers blooming across the fore front of her mind as her shadows began to blanket across her frame, smothering her in a film of black as a dull, vibrating ring began to sing out in her head. It wasn't her hounds or Chaos for that matter, they were eerily silent with the new drone that was cloaking over the entire scene. Magdalena looked up, her eyes slowly rising and ticking up across the mud as the ground became tinged in the faintest touches of an azure glow. The sapphire tones brightened, burned, slowly began to intensify as she realized exactly where she had run to.

The Tree of Life.

"No..." She whimpered, grit her teeth and watched in horror as the gleaming tree thrummed, pulsing with the plethora of spirits housed within those skeletal limbs, so perverse and twisted, reaching up towards a sky of ash. The often rumoured, lauded over tree utterly terrified her, she saw it as a pinnacle of death for the amount of apparitions swirling around it, some gesturing towards her. It was a tantalizing notion when she gazed upon the flora of white and blue, the molten fire in her eyes gradually bleeding back inside her as her eyes of similar grace began to glow with the tide of light bathing across her frame. A single web of white threaded from her chest to the roots of this pallid myth and the pale cord gradually began to darken with black and glow like a tendril of lava; swirling in hues of vermilion and scarlet with black edges of bleeding ebony. She gasped aloud as her skin grew cold, like a film and thin sheet of ice in her veins as the eternal spirit in her skin left, along with the often boiling lava that could be summoned from her mouth. A cord of white also snaked and corded from her lips next, along with the threading across her entire body until Magdalena was left pale; drained and a washed out shell of the former tortured soul of molten shadows she once was.

She felt so cold, empty, alone and trembling before the Tree of Life and submitted to her knees as she gazed helplessly at the coiling threads connecting her to the roots of it. The swollen attachments slowly began to twine together, shaping and sweltering into what lived inside her. Chaos loomed before her, dwarfed from the actual mass that it was, given a mere shadow of its true and actual form for whatever reason the tree had delegated. It was a writhing mass of shadow and fire, boiling seams and molten blood that dripped in falls of burning colours and hues and snaking across the hardened shell of Chaos's hideous veneer of a splitting smile that held within the various bodies and helpless victims her shadows had touched and consumed. She recognized the man she had watched die, the soldier she had fought against upon the behest of a treaty and her body convulsed, her back arching in the pain as her veins were shot through with a viscous red that thrummed, pulsed, and beat with the coiling form of Chaos as it beckoned towards, reaching, offering and the tree behind gleamed ever brighter.

As Aaron followed Magdalena back to the tree what he witnessed was beyond his comprehension. It was the physical manifestation of her spirits. The coiling shadows lined with molten frames only accentuated the monstrosities figure as it loomed ominously over Magdalena. Aaron could only stand in awe as he gazed at what must surely be something from the deepest corners of his nightmares, he could only imagine what Magdalena had to deal with every day with that thing living in her head. Suddenly his mind returned to Maggie who was crouched before the legendary tree staring up at this creature. Without a second thought Aaron jumped between Maggie and the creature with blade in hand. He wasn't really sure what he could do but he was ready to do it.

"Don't worry Maggie...I wont let it near you!"

That slow resonating drone gradually quieted, panning out in a eerie silence as Chaos' gesture loomed back, as if dropping back down into the swathes of shadows enveloping his mere representation while his eyes of thick black and reds bore down onto the offering before him with a blade drawn and poised to be a protector. The creature bore a still frame before it began wailing, a sharp piercing screech that boiled into a laugh, the harsh cadence shattered across Aaron's conscious thought as Magdalena gazed on with an appalled expression with blue eyes dull and broken, not hearing the usual, horrific sound in her mind.

Such a brave thing. The cords of glimmering carmine and golden hell fires pulsed in time with the scarlet veins across Magdalena's skin.

You think you can protect her when it was I who has done so for years now. You are nothing but a warrior lost in his vengeance and anger, consumed by your wrath. Chaos' form wavered just so, breaking just enough as the Tree of Life's ethereal glow bloomed across Magdalena and filmed her in a sheen of azure.

You do not belong here.

The horrible screeching noise that pervaded his mind was almost overwhelming to the point that it drove him to his knees. The spirits within him roared to life as he stared down this creature with more anger than resolve at this point. As the screeching cleared into coherent words it felt as if his spirits began speaking for him.

"I haven't been consumed yet, but if it means that you can't riddle Maggie's mind with your evil anymore then I will gladly let it consume me."

A sharp exhale gave a quick burst of immolation from Aaron's nostrils as the knuckles that gripped his sword turned white. In the back of his mind he couldn't wait to see if the creature would make a move, the anticipation of battle was almost too much for him to bear.

Magdalena's eyes snapped over to Aaron finally, acknowledging that he had indeed followed her all the way here, his declaration directed entirely to this shadow projection of Chaos whom was still connected to the Tree. The spirits of her molten skin and tongue pulsed abroad on tongues of gold as the thicker waves of her despair and shadow desperately tried to reach back for her, the thread that held them to the roots straining in the peculiar essence that it was. It took her a moment to realize entirely what Aaron had meant and she felt a peculiar quiver of fear in her breast, her fingers clutched up across her throat at the mere thought of her spirits and Chaos no longer being a apart of her, they were all that she had left and despite her endless tortures, she couldn't bare that thought of giving them up to the Tree or Aaron for that matter. Magdalena had only ever known darkness and she was bred within it, molded entirely by her own pain that had conceived this vessel of herself that attracted spirits of shadows and fire and despite what Emily had said, or what anyone thought, there was a reason for it; an unforeseen prophecy that was connected to them all entirely by the concept of repetition and fate.

She clenched her fingers and let out a soft sob, no matter the temptation of finally being rid of her dark shadows and molten liquid, to finally relinquish the pain and isolation, the emptiness within her now was more antagonizing than her burning skin and howling apparitions. She had to accept it and Chaos all over again and she couldn't help the new sensation of wholeness at that prospect. It terrified her, but it was all she knew, there was nothing else.

Chaos felt this, knew this and let out a wailing squeal of laughter as snaking cords of hell fire shot around Aaron and connected to Magdalena still knelt down behind him.

You'll be consumed by a different type of evil, one that is within yourself. Don't be so quick to judge who the demon is until you face your own reflection.

That terrible visage slowly began to dissipate, billowing out in cords of russet and ebony as Magdalena accepted her spirits anew and trembled with the over all emotion that corded her body tight in hell fire. She cried out in the affliction of pain, of the swirling attachments and seams of shadow that bled lava in torrents as they sunk beneath her skin and brought with them something new, something beyond their former existence and capabilities. Magdalena's eyes clenched, her left eye once more surrounded with vermilion and boiling black, unable to see the last spirit that slipped away from the Tree. It hissed, much like a serpentine of whatever species deemed by ancient times, it slithered across the muddied earth on wisps of white and coiled around Aaron, staring up at him with obsidian fangs and eyes before it retreated back to Magdalena. Scales of alabaster cinched tight around her trembling frame before vanishing entirely in an ashen cloud that she unknowingly breathed in, a festering poison that hazed in and out before vanishing entirely, leaving the pale girl prone upon the dirt and unable to cease her spasms as her spirits resettled themselves within her soul.

---

As the shadowed visage slowly retreated Aaron turned back to see Maggie uncontrollably convulsing, wrestling with the spirits that she housed. Before he could make his way over to the alabaster angel a snake composed of shadows reared its head at him bearing fangs and giving a loud hiss before it slithered its way into Magdalena's body. Aaron took long bounding steps to bring himself kneeling beside her as a small cloud of odd vapors escaped through the pair of ruby lips as Aaron tried to check on Maggie,

"Maggie, are you ok?

Her body gradually stilled, no longer assaulted by harsh tremors as her spirits nestled themselves within once more, the sensation of pain was euphoric as she gradually opened her eyes, her left eye still snapped with vermilion and ebony, but no longer boiling and swirling as if in turmoil, it was still and cracked with the barest hues of blue as if the sclera and iris were stained over with her spirits like fissures in glass or marble. When her stare fell upon Aaron knelt down beside her, something within her warred up in defense, her skin burning alive in a vicious heat from his close proximity as she was vaguely reminded of his kiss.

"Why did you do that?" she verbally hissed, her voice cresting into an odd pitch of emotion that wasn't her usual bell tone of ominous dread.

The shock of her oddly pitched voice caught Aaron off guard, it wasn't something that he was expecting to hear. With his own anger rising up into his voice Aaron couldn't help but feel a little ungrateful that he at least attempted to come to her aid,

"I came to help you...are you saying that I should have let that thing get back inside you so it could hurt you?!"

Magdalena's fingers balled into fists, nails bit into her palms and her scar burned in reminder of the one time Chaos had been summoned in full Limit Break - they said she had almost died. Is that what she had allowed back inside her soul, death?

"I didn't ask for your help!" Her voice rose, her own anger and confusion merging into a hellacious emotion as her empathetic shadow, now back in loyal place, began to bloom wide around them. "I had to accept it back! Otherwise I'm nothing!"

She recalled back to the Caudata in the sewers when their spirits had been sectioned off from them and she couldn't feel them anymore, that same hopelessness had consumed her so strongly then that she had never wanted to feel like helpless again.

Confusion turned to anger as she snapped at him about being nothing without her spirits, and as he talked to her his voice distorted as his spirits forced themselves into his conversation,

"You are not worthless without that monster! You are twice the woman without it and yet you ALLOW that THING back in?!"

Something in Magdalena snapped, it made a line across her heart and broke into a fissure as her eyes bore endlessly into Aaron's, her teeth baring almost as her own spirits rose up in a near challenge to his own leaking into his voice.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Aaron, all of this." Magdalena gestured abroad. "Is much bigger than anything we've ever faced. And I won't allow myself to be left behind and helpless! And if I have to become the THING within myself to do it, then I will!"

She couldn't stand to just sit there, something inside her told her to move and get away from him, he who had unwittingly chased her to the last place she had wanted to be. Magdalena didn't spare him a chance to answer, she wouldn't be left behind again like she had been so many years ago when her father and brothers left to go fight. She had always been alone and in the dark, always in pain from her past, and now she had accepted them all back into her. She didn't know what that meant, not just yet, but Aaron wouldn't be able to understand unless he knew exactly what happened but despite this, she couldn't bare to say. Her shame was just too much and her soul felt aching and raw from the over all experience. The doll that she was was slowly beginning to fracture and what lurked within would probably destroy her entirely.

"And another thing, don't kiss me again." She bit out, her fingers trembling as they touched over her lips where his affections still spurred her. "I'm not fucking Olivia, I won't ever be her. I won't be some replacement just because she rejected you. Figure out your own feelings before you start jumping to the next girl who happens to be there." Magdalena's eyes bled tears of magma as she fumbled to her feet, her fingers falling from her lips as she once again began retreating from him, pausing only briefly.

"Besides, wouldn't want to bother you with this THING inside me."

Aaron felt his heart sink and his spirits recede back into the depths of his soul. He had started this whole interaction with one of the most important people in his life, disappointed at his lack of control, and now it had ended with his inability to control himself. Her last statement hit him the hardest. He hadn't meant what he said to make it seem like it was her that he was disgusted with but because he couldn't control himself he had directed his anger on her. Now, once again alone and miserable, Aaron watched as Maggie turned and left him standing in the rubble by the Tree of Life and as he turned and stared at its beautiful glow a tear rolled down his face.

'I suppose that it would be better if I was alone anyway...if no one gets close to me, the less chance I have of hurting anyone.'

---

Whatever underlying meaning had come with accepting her pain and anguish, had undoubtedly began to alter Magdalena from her indifferent infamy, the usual apathetic scrutiny and deduction was shattering just so as she cut a path across the ruins - seeking whatever refuge she could in distancing herself from Aaron. There was a hiss in the back of her mind, as if warning her and advising against the harsh words she had spat back at the hotheaded boy; they were cruel and stabbing, directed entirely to his heart that was begin tugged between their beloved Captain and herself. But Magdalena had never known that he harboured affections for her, back on the boat she had assumed it as a method of tending and care, but now she saw it as Aaron trying to find solace in his heartache.

Magdalena had now shattered that.

She clenched her eyes shut, a preference to be blind as her left hemisphere pulsed and pounded with a cranial infliction. Not watching where she was going now, her shoulder made harsh contact with the broad breadth of flesh, connecting for a second that lasted for what seemed like forever as she snapped her gaze skyward and met the blank and slightly apologetic peer of Kimberly’s ebony eyes. Meeting them rocketed a sense of regret that shook her to the core of her being as she slapped her palm over her lips, as if trying to banish entirely what she had said beforehand, if Kimberly had heard and saw it all, what would he think of her now? Cruelty was not her penchant, harsh degradation towards her friend was utterly repulsing, would he judge her, did he see Chaos earlier? Magdalena fought for words, something to explain the wealth of fear in her stare, her left optic shimmering in the stain of fire and shadow.

But she knew that with Kimberly, speaking aloud wouldn’t avail to any conclusion so the shattering doll only stepped around him, her shadow clinging to him in familiarity before it reluctantly disbanded and followed after Magdalena in a dismal slink that reflected her newly acquired inner turmoils.

----- Witnessing Aaron Kissing Magdalena -----
When Aaron and Magdalena did not return after the group’s discussion was over, Olivia asked Kimberly to go search for the two so that the group could leave the area to find civilization. Keeping his ears and nose sharp, it did not take long to spot them. The giant was ready to raise his hand and call to them when it happened.

Aaron’s lips clashed into Magdalena’s.

Kimberly halted at the sight. They were kissing. As soon as he processed what was happening, the giant averted his eyes, feeling as though he had just intruded in an intimate moment. Naturally, his gaze landed onto his roommate. Ghost stood there silently. Kimberly watched Ghost’s face change from pure shock to a heart wrenched expression. It was a facial expression that Kimberly had seen his imaginary friend show every time Magdalena was intimately involved with someone, a phenomenon that the giant could only recall happening twice. Each time it happened, Ghost became blue and showed symptoms of a heartbreak. For the first few days, Ghost would not appear in front of Kimberly, locked away in his little room inside Kimberly’s head, and when he finally got out of there, it would take weeks for him to get back on his feet. A time period, which usually meant that Kimberly was going to be forced to consume copious amounts of sweets and listen to hours of Ghost’s ramblings.

At first, Kimberly thought that that was all that was going to happen. He was ready to place his hand onto Ghost’s shoulder to comfort him. He even prepared himself for a day full of nothing but sweets: a day that would surely end with him becoming diabetic. None of this would happen, however. Before his hand could reach Ghost’s shoulder, his roommate’s heartbroken face transformed into anger. Kimberly stilled his hand. This was not like him. As much as Ghost was prone to jealousy, he had never shown rage when Magdalena was in a relationship before. What was different now, from the previous ones?

It was a simple answer: Magdalena rejected the kiss. Not only that, she started to have what Kimberly could only describe as a panic attack. Aaron’s kiss triggered her fit of terror, which in turn triggered Ghost’s intense reaction filled with anger, disgust, and hostility towards Aaron. It was hatred. It was the beast that Kimberly saw two years ago. Two years ago, when Ghost---… Kimberly almost beat a man to death.

Kimberly felt himself become pale, his heart almost stopped beating as dread dropped from above and down into the bottom of his stomach.

Ghost wanted to harm Aaron. Maybe even kill him. He had no basis for this conclusion, but his gut ordered his body to grab onto Ghost right as Magdalena and Aaron ran right past the two. With the wild beast struggling to be free of Kimberly’s grasp, Kimberly did not have the luxury to think about what could have happened if he had not trapped Ghost’s movements in time.

“LET GO OF ME!” Ghost roared as his feet stomped and kicked at Kimberly’s feet and legs.
“No! I know what you were about to do! I’m not letting this happen again! Not with my friend!”
Ghost roared in frustration as he slammed the back of his head into Kimberly’s face, which allowed him the chance to escape. Quickly turning around, he glared at the giant, “FRIEND? You’re letting a sexual assaulter get away!”
“Don’t call him that! He---…!”
“WHY THE F*CK NOT!? FORCED KISSING IS UNDER THE CATEGORY OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, KIMBERLY! ARE YOU SAYING THAT IF YOU GENTLY DO IT, IT'S SUDDENLY OKAY? EVEN IF THE OTHER PERSON OBVIOUSLY DOESN'T WANT IT? OR IS IT BECAUSE IT WAS AARON!? IS IT SUDDENLY F*CKING OKAY TO FORCE YOURSELF ON SOMEONE ELSE DEPENDING ON WHO THE F*CK IT IS!? DOES NOTHING OF WHAT SHE THINKS OR FEELS MATTER!? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS AGAIN KIMBERLY!? WHY DO YOU LET THESE SELFISH PSYCHOPATHS GO UNPUNISHED!? WHY DO YOU KEEP LETTING HER GO THROUGH THIS SH*T WHEN IT WASN’T HER FAULT!?”
“Wha---… what are you ---…”

The spirits detected a sudden change in the atmosphere, making both Kimberly and Ghost freeze. Something was happening that the Tree of Life. They could hear the faint sounds of people yelling. The two exchanged looks at each other and a silent truce was made before Kimberly bolted towards the Tree’s direction.

---

The look on her face. The emotional turmoil that showed through her eyes, something that she did not normally allow to presented itself, was there for everyone to see. It looked as if she feared the possibility of Kimberly witnessing the whole ordeal. Maybe he was too rash on his decision to follow the two. She did not want anyone ---not even Aaron--- to see this side of her. She did not want to say the things she said.

Yet… somewhere inside, Kimberly did not think she did the wrong thing. Sure, she could have worded it better ---not that he, of all people, had any right to say that to Magdalena---, but she did not actually say anything wrong. Aaron kissed her, something that she did not appreciate and thought that he did in the spur of the moment; an action caused by his recent rejection by Olivia. She needed to do that. Even if it must have hurt Aaron’s feelings, it was necessary to say “no” to him. If she hadn’t, Aaron would have continued to do something that she did not want and that was not fair for him or her.

As for Chaos. That… was simply unfortunate. Aaron, despite his good intentions, had outright rejected the spirits within Magdalena. Spirits, which before the Tree of Life, largely defined who each member of WARG was; spirits that chose their host because something in the host attracted them. Aaron may not have known it when he had said it, but he unwittingly called Magdalena an “evil thing” right in her face. Magdalena’s rejection of Aaron might have hurt Aaron, but Aaron also cut just as deep into her heart.

Kimberly wanted to say something to the two, some comforting words that could serve as a first aid for the heart. But his tongue was not capable of moving so smoothly; his throat would not emit the sounds as fast as he wished them to come; and his mind could not think of the appropriate words for either of them. So he ended up just watching Aaron stand defeated and Magdalena walk away in shame.

Empathy touched Ghost during the brief seconds that the small woman passed by Kimberly. The raven-haired man could tell that it had told Ghost something that he would never know about. Ghost turned towards Magdalena’s direction.

“Lena!” Ghost called out as Magdalena continued to walk away from Kimberly. He held on to her shadow as long as he could as he continued, “there’s no reason for you to regret what you said! You did nothing wrong! In fact, I’m damn proud of you, Lena!”

She kept walking away.

“You were extraordinary! Do you even realize what you accomplished, Lena? You did things that you would have never done before! You helped Kimberly out! You tried to give Emily emotional support! You spoke your mind! You actually stood up for yourself! You stood up for what you believed! You defended yourself! You are not that girl anymore! You’ve become stronger than you ever imagined!”

Ghost ran to her side and even stood in front of her to talk directly at her face, but she walked right through him. Like a ghost.

“There’s no need to feel sorry for Ron! He needed to hear that! He needed to know what you felt! F*ck everyone needs to know when they did something right or wrong! Don’t feel like you’re the bad guy, Lena! There’s no reason to regret what you needed to do!”

No one heard Ghost’s voice even when he was yelling at the top of his lungs to be heard. The world still ignored him.

“I’m so proud of you, Lena!”

His words fell on deaf ears.

“I’m proud of you Magdalena…”

She was gone.

---

After giving a few minutes for Magdalena, Kimberly left Aaron in the groups’ care and searched for their smallest teammate. Like before, it did not take long for him to find who he was looking for. Approaching her carefully, Kimberly informed her that the group needed to leave soon. As he waited patiently for the petite woman to respond and begin to return to the group, Kimberly started to mumble something. After some attempts, the soft spoken giant finally blurted it out, “you did nothing wrong.” Silence. “You… stood up for yourself… and… Aaron needed to know.” Kimberly gaze fell onto Magdalena and then turned to look at the dumbfounded Ghost. “It… must… have took a lot of courage… to say it… b-but… but you did it, Maggie.”

“We---… ‘I’ am proud of you Magdalena.” Ghost smiled at Kimberly. “‘I’m’ very proud of you.”

---

----- The Anatolian Wilderness: During One of WARG’s Breaks-----
For the most part, Kimberly was amazed at Ghost’s restraint during their travel through the wilderness. He had thought, with what happened at the Tree of Life, that Ghost would act bitter and angry for the entirely of the day, but amazingly, he behaved as normally as he would have in any other day. He even responded to conversations with the name “Aaron” without a negative response. As it turned out, however, this was actually the closest thing to the “silent treatment” Ghost could actually do. He acted as though nothing had happened when Aaron’s name came up, but the moment Kimberly got too close to said Aaron, Ghost continuously attempted to harass Aaron using juvenile level annoyance tactics. Fortunately, 99% of what Ghost had done went unnoticed. Unfortunately, it meant that 1 in 100 times, Ghost succeed and it made Kimberly look like an a**hole for bullying Aaron.

When Ghost succeeded 3 out of 300 attempts, Kimberly had enough. The moment the group took their much-needed rest, Kimberly apologized to Aaron and then excused himself from the group. After walking some distance away from them, the giant finally yelled at Ghost.

“Okay, now… now you’re just… acting like… like a child!”
“He started it!”
“Stop… right there. I’m… in no mood for… this.”
“No. In this case, he did start it. If he hadn’t kissed Lena, this chain of events would’ve never happened.”
“Stop blaming him… for everything that happened. It sounds… like you’re trying to justify your… unneeded behavior. He might have… done something… Maggie didn’t like… but he meant no harm!”
“And you need to stop f*cking protecting him for every sh*t he does wrong. He screwed up royally. Whatever respect I had for him, is gone. I honest to Kami, don’t give a damn about him anymore. The only reason why I haven’t punched him into a bloody pulp is because he’s your friend.”
“You …. sound like you’re… just jealous…. that he was able to do something… that you’d never be able… to do.”
“I probably am, but you know what? It still doesn’t change the fact that he’s a self-centered spoiled brat who does everything on a whim without any regard for the other person’s feelings. He projects his own desires into others and does what he f*cking wants to them, because he is under the illusion that that was actually what THEY wanted, when it was always only what HE wanted! I thought he loved Vi. I actually admired his devotion and I even rooted for them. It is a pity that he was rejected, but did you see how fast and eager he was to jump to the next girl? How easily he replaced someone? Lena is not a spare part. Vi is not something to be replaced either. But to him, that’s what they exactly were: replaceable. Did you know, a couple hours from Olivia’s rejection, he had the balls to even say---…” Ghost’s voice changed into Aaron’s as he spoke. “‘For you...I could burn the world to ashes if it would mean that you would be safe. I may not be able control myself now, but I will use my anger against anyone that makes the mistake of threatening you.’ To Lena?” Ghost’s voice returned as he laughed, “suddenly, he’s capable of destroying the world for a girl who suddenly became more important than the girl he supposedly loved!? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! He would kill his friends if it meant that he could keep a girl! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AND he dare called Samil a MADMAN!? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Kimberly, it doesn’t matter who it is! That psychopath only wants someone, anyone, to love him! To make him feel needed and important! With what happened, it obviously never had to be Vi! Then what makes you think it has to be Lena!? He was able to toss ‘the love of his life’ to the side and replace it within a single f*cking day! What makes you think he won’t do that to Lena!? He didn’t even apologize to her for what he did! No. I may never be able to touch her like he did. I will never be accepted or rejected by her: she may never truly acknowledge me as long as I exist, but I want her to be happy. She deserves to be happy. She needs to be happy. And Aaron is not capable of doing that. Not with his insecurity or his flimsy ass allegiance. If he wants Lena, he better f*cking prove it, because I swear to Kami, I will kill him if he uses her like ‘him’.”
“I-it was… a moment of vulnerability… he was heartbroken! He wanted comfort---…”
“Stop it! Stop it you f*cking goody-two-shoes! Why do you keep looking at a problem and try to justify it!? Why do you keep ignoring it!? He was vulnerable!? So was Lena! And he took advantage of it! He tried to make her his while she was down so that he could feel better about himself!”
“That---…!”
Ghost suddenly burst into another fit of laughter, “I just realized something. Haha! You and Aaron are similar, aren’t you? You’re wanna be heroes. Insecure children, unable to bare loneliness and incapable of living on your own when you both think that your existence some how makes life harder for those around you. Which, it does, at the moment. You both claim that your friends are one of the most important things in your world and that you would do just about anything to help them… but you guys never actually make anything better do you? In Aaron’s case, he makes it worse by doing things he claims is for the other person’s sake when they didn’t even ask for it. And in your case… AHAHA! Oh, in a sense, you are much worse! In your case, YOU BACK AWAY! Whenever you get too close, YOU BACK AWAY! THIS IS EXACTLY WHY YOU CAN NEVER BE A ‘HERO’ KIMBERLY! YOU ARE ALWAYS AFRAID OF GETTING HURT, BY HURTING SOMEONE ELSE! SO YOU TAKE THE EASY WAY OUT! YOU CAN’T SAVE ANYONE THAT WAY KIM! WHY WON’T YOU LOOK STRAIGHT AT THE UGLY FACTS OF LIFE? THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ACCEPTING AND IGNORING IT! YOU’RE NOT AS DENSE AS YOU ACT KIM! YOU KNOW WHEN THERE’S A PROBLEM, BUT YOU NEVER TRY TO PUSH THE MATTER ANY FURTHER! YOU KEEP BACKING AWAY, IGNORING IT ALL, BECAUSE YOU’VE BRAINWASHED YOURSELF INTO THINKING THAT YOU AREN’T CAPABLE OF HELPING ANYONE! SO YOU WAIT UNTIL SOMEONE ELSE CAN DO IT! AARON IS A SELFISH BASTARD, BUT YOU’RE A COWARD KIM! YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE PROBLEM GETS IGNORED! WORSE CASE SCENARIO, PEOPLE DIE! AND YOU ALREADY F*CKED UP TWICE! THREE TIMES IF YOU WANT TO INCLUDE VIVIAN. ISN’T THAT WHY YOU WANTED TO HELP PEOPLE? WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING HERE IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING AT ALL!? SUCK IT UP KIMBERLY! SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO HURT FEELINGS FOR THE HEART TO BECOME STRONGER! YOU NEED TO FACE WHAT YOU DON’T WANT TO FACE TO HELP, TO TRULY HELP PEOPLE!”
“Forcing… your way in… doesn’t always work. You… you… can’t force change… if they don’t… want change. It’s better to… wait for them… to come to you.”
“But sometimes they never ask for the help they need. They sometimes don’t think they need help. You should know that, Kim. She’d never ask for help.”
“We’re… not talking… about me or Aaron anymore… are we?”

Ghost let out a deep breath, “the point is. Aaron is too immature and I will treat him as the self-centered brat that he is until he grows the f*ck up. When he stops feeling sorry for himself and actually takes the time to actually see what people want or need… then…” His fingers combed through his hair, “then I’ll leave it up to Lena. She… can choose him.”

The two stood there in momentary silence. Let’s negotiate. If Aaron apologizes to Maggie, you stop your bullying. Ghost crossed his arms and turned his head away from Kimberly defiantly. You will stop bullying Aaron, if he apologizes to Maggie. Okay?
“You suck at this negotiation thing. That sounds more like an order.”
You’re right. It is.
Ghost sighed, “fine. I’ll stop. I’ll even kiss him as an added bonus.”
And you said forced kissing was a sexual assault.
“Not only will he not notice it, but regardless if he does, that’s what he gets for doing it to Lena. Win, win.”

As soon as Kimberly returned to the group, he walked straight towards Aaron. “Aaron… you need to apologize to Maggie. This… tension between you two… it can only get worse and… it’ll affect others… around you. “ Kimberly glanced at Ghost, then back at Aaron. “Talk to her… explain… if you need to… for her to understand… but you need to apologize.”

---

-----The Anatolian Wilderness: Battle III-----
The pain was not like anything he had ever experienced before. Kimberly could feel his bones crack; his organs shift around, and his muscles and skin stretch more than they should have. His clothes were becoming too constricting that it made it hard to breath. In the haziness of the pain, Kimberly tried to remove his jacket. He would not have been able to do the normally simple task if Magdalena did not offer a helping hand. Despite the assistance, the jacket ---along with all his personal possessions in the pockets---was the only thing she was able to salvage before the already giant man grew too large for his clothes, tearing them as he continued to morph into something that humans were not supposed to look like. He could hear the sound of a thousand voices talking to someone.

Magdalena Abendroth, lend us thy strength.
Kimberly could not hear what words she used in response to the spirit’s request, but when he felt the intense heat of fire flow into his body, he knew that Magdalena agreed.

The metamorphosis was complete. The once hairy ---but still very human--- man transformed into a full-fledged bear right before everyone’s very eyes. Not just any bear, either: a fire bear. A bear with flames for fur; nails and teeth that were black and glassy as obsidian; lava that replaced the saliva that was supposed to be dripping down its mouth; breath so hot that it could cause degree second-degree burns without trying; and eyes that shined as bright as any great fire could. Its mere presences melted near by snow and burned anything that was flammable at its feet.

Oh... my... Kami...

It is your new power, Kimberly Faye. Use it wisely.

---

After getting over the initial shock ---and realization that Magdalena were linked so that not only could he share a spirit with her, but was able to communicate with the mind alone--- Kimberly, the fire bear, decided that the time spent questioning his new ability was probably better used if he used said ability on the swarm of enemies in front of the group.

The giant bear ran towards the first group of Blobs and slashed his sharp claws through them like a hot knife through butter. When the second and third group charged towards Kimberly, he tried punching them and biting them, but once he was finished dealing with the third group and took a look around, it was obvious that the army of mini-Blobs were not decreasing in number. They needed to kill their leader, or leaders if there were more than one. A quick glance around revealed that there were a few Blobs that were distinctively larger than any of the other ones. With no other candidates, Kimberly called for Magdalena’s attention.

Maggie! Over there! The big one!

Understanding what he was suggesting, Magdalena nodded and the two started to run towards the closest Blob Leader, which was surrounded by continuously spawning mini-Blobs. Kimberly, using his large fiery body, rammed his way through the horde and spat lava from his mouth, time to time, to make a clear way through the xenomorphs. As the large bear charged his way through, at some point, Magdalena jumped on to catch a ride and assisted Kimberly by slashing at any and all mini-Blobs stupid enough to get near them.

Once Kimberly and Magdalena were able to see the Blob leader clearly, Kimberly held his breath to begin charging his lava breath and the second they got close enough he let the blast of lava erupt from his mouth and onto the Blob leader.

A Road, Broken

Fragments

Remi kicked his feet over the edge of the jutting, broken bit of road. The place where a path had become an end. The road had buckled upwards in it's death throws, twisted metal rebar sticking out of the shattered concrete. The broken tusks of a beast howling it's last breaths at the sky. Remi leaned back on his hands. The crumbling asphalt felt rough and cool on his palms. Some luckless morning songbirds still sang for mates that would not answer. He stared out over the blasted and blighted remains of what had once been civilization. Remiel looked over at Emily, sitting there on the precipice, staring out at the treeline.

"I think I might be a monster, Em." He said it as though discussing the weather. The birds continued to sing.

She didn't look away, but reached up and held out her hand. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Remi laced his fingers through her's and rested their entwined hands on Emily's lap. He stared off into the horizon with her. Only the sound of the songbirds intruding upon their quiet vigil.

Emily broke the silence after a while.

"Me too," she said. "Or at least, a little bit."

"Yeah," he said again. His hand tightened a little on hers. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "What are we going to do, Emi-bear?"

"I don't know," she said. "I feel like I want to run. I don't want to be part of... whatever is happening to us. To everything." Remi smiled.

"Maybe we should." He shifted a little closer to her.

"What would the others say?" Emily said. "I guess it wouldn't matter."

"I suppose not. We could do it, though. Go rogue. Get off the grid." He smile a little more. "What would we do out there?"

"Whatever. Doesn't matter. It just wouldn't be this."

Remi looked back towards the horizon. His brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I would like to cook." He nodded with certainty. "I think I'd like to be a chef."

Emily laughed, but covered her mouth.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just a funny image. You with a big white chef's hat and chef's--- what do they call them? Robes?"

"Apron, I think you mean...yeah...I think I'd like that." He smiled again. A little sadly. "But you know, no matter how far are fast we flee, I'm not sure we can really escape all this."

She smiled and shifted herself so she could rest her head in his lap. He smelled of sweat. She didn't seem to care.

"Nah, I mean the white uniforms," she said. "I don't know what they're called."

"They're just called chefs' uniforms." He stroked her hair with his other hand. She still felt a little cold. He found himself willing the sun to rise faster. "The hat's called a...toque...I think. I can't remember."

The scab pulsed on Emily's chest, in and out with every heartbeat. She sounded like she was dozing off.

"I was a little mean to Mags. I probably shouldn't have been. I just... it's so easy for me to be angry."

Remi was glad she couldn't see the grimace that flickered on his face. He covered it with another chuckle. "She'll be fine. Everyone knows what a jerk you can be. You'll both be fine." He took a deep breath of the brisk morning air. "We'll all be fine."

"They'll be fine. I'll still be a jerk."

Remi continued to quietly stroke her head, working his fingers through the knots that had formed in her pale tresses. The sun continued to rise, the birds continued to sing. Time and fate would not wait on them. Remi looked down upon Emily's face. He knew it well. He'd seen it twist with pain and anger, lift into smiles of forced politeness and fierce joy, settle into impenetrable stares that arrested his thoughts. A lifetime would deepen the soft lines of her face. Tragedy and disappointment would harden her eyes and weather her skin. Remi would have done anything to preserve her from that. But not just her. Remi looked over the ravaged cityscape behind them.

All Remi had wanted was to protect them. So much of his life had been consumed with that purpose. So many thoughts of how if he'd only been stronger, or smarter, or more in control. But what had it availed?

Nothing.

In spite of all of his efforts, Remi had not been able to save any of them. He thought if he'd had enough strength, dicipline, and cunning he could preserve them from all of the terrible, mundane tragedies of the world. But they all were tormented by demons both intensely personal and tragically shared. Wounded in spirit, mind, and body. Worst of all, broken in fellowship.

What had become of them? Of Freddie, Kat, Jynette, Thael? They had been wrenched from his grasp, taken beyond his reach. Remi looked down at Emily. Even those closest to him seemed so far. All that was left in his white-knuckle grip was despair. A crushing weight that all the strength he had tried to amass, could not lift. All his discipline could not overcome it. All his cunning could not stop him from trying anyway.

But he still had the strength to bear it. He still had dicipline enough to keep it from pulling him down. Still enough cunning to see that there was another way.

Remi turned his gaze back towards the horizon. He breathed out. He let go.

---

A Lake, Untranquil

Fury

Remi breathed in and almost choked on the smell. He coughed and wheezed. It was awful. Overpowering. More than a stench. He could taste it in his mouth. He was aware of almost nothing else. A bloating nausea suffused his sense of touch. His vision swam and lost a sense of depth. He could hear nothing but the sealed singing of the blood between his ears.

He missed Kim's warning, blinking his vision back. He felt a slight rhythmic tremor of nearby motion. He half-heard Olivia's shouted command. He didn't need to see where the rest of his team were looking. He could still taste the xenomorphs' essence in the back of his throat, smell their stink even with the mountain wind blowing to their backs. He made sense of the memetic sensations still convalescing in his mind.

"Captain," he choked out, his voice sounded strange to him. Alien. He cleared his throat. [INSERT ENEMY INFORMATION SCHPIEL HERE]

Remi was not given pause as the bear that had been his friend Kim charged into the unpleasant xenos surrounded by fire and mounted by Maggie. He did not hesitate this time. He felt a vitality to his limbs, a strength and a speed he had not felt before. Like the world was lighter, easier to manage. He could feel the friction of the Spectators inside of his, rioting into the spiritual confines in which they did abide. The pressure building up, lending a puissance to his actions, while it threatened to burst through him. He found the discipline to reign in the panic of his spirts. To focus their energies to his aims. He turned his gaze to the shifting currents of the battlefield. He had the cunning to see the correct move.

Drafting behind Kim Remi broke as the smoldering ursine hit the first of the larger xeno. His blade was gone, but Remi didn't feel lacking. What good had he ever really done with the blade. Hundreds of hours in the practice rooms. What had that sharp little bit of metal really availed him? He'd let it go.

His first kick met with two of the small, rotund xenomorphs with such force that their bodies deformed, deflated, and punted back into their fellows, who were in turn overturned. Remi's scything limbs reaped the swarming masses, clearing a field on Kim and Mag's left flank. He waded forwards, overextending his battleline, fighting his way to a small hill amidst the xeno horde. More of the beasts flooding in around him. Two more of the larger xenomorphs reared out of the sea of alien flesh before him. Remi's limbs were coated in the morph's orange ichor, as well as some of his own from wounds scoured by the broken bones of the lesser xeno. Remi breathed deep, drinking in more of the monsters cloying stench. Remi's chest swelled and filled with a different foulness, dredged up from the spiritual detritus around the hungering maw inside his soul. The area he'd cleared around him closed with onrushing xenomorph. He felt the slithering fragmented spirits congeal in his core. Remi exhaled, a torrent of terrible spirit stuff poured out of him bathing over the surface of the massed xenos. For a single moment the entire xenomorph swarm stilled as Remi's mimicked miasma filled their gaping mouths and seeped into their being.

The sliver of respite ended as quickly as it had begun. The xenomorphs continued their chittering charge, threatening to engulf Remi and his allies in numbers alone. Remi settle back into a defensive stance. He still had strength, discipline, and cunning enough for this. This was a weight he could bear.

As the fanged maws of the xenos bore down towards him a strange thought slithered into his mind. Big as they were. His mouth was bigger. A rare smile split Remi's face.

The hole in his soul still wanted more.

A Road, Broken

Fragments

Remi kicked his feet over the edge of the jutting, broken bit of road. The place where a path had become an end. The road had buckled upwards in it's death throws, twisted metal rebar sticking out of the shattered concrete. The broken tusks of a beast howling it's last breaths at the sky. Remi leaned back on his hands. The crumbling asphalt felt rough and cool on his palms. Some luckless morning songbirds still sang for mates that would not answer. He stared out over the blasted and blighted remains of what had once been civilization. Remiel looked over at Emily, sitting there on the precipice, staring out at the treeline.

"I think I might be a monster, Em." He said it as though discussing the weather. The birds continued to sing.

She didn't look away, but reached up and held out her hand. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Remi laced his fingers through her's and rested their entwined hands on Emily's lap. He stared off into the horizon with her. Only the sound of the songbirds intruding upon their quiet vigil.

Emily broke the silence after a while.

"Me too," she said. "Or at least, a little bit."

"Yeah," he said again. His hand tightened a little on hers. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "What are we going to do, Emi-bear?"

"I don't know," she said. "I feel like I want to run. I don't want to be part of... whatever is happening to us. To everything." Remi smiled.

"Maybe we should." He shifted a little closer to her.

"What would the others say?" Emily said. "I guess it wouldn't matter."

"I suppose not. We could do it, though. Go rogue. Get off the grid." He smile a little more. "What would we do out there?"

"Whatever. Doesn't matter. It just wouldn't be this."

Remi looked back towards the horizon. His brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I would like to cook." He nodded with certainty. "I think I'd like to be a chef."

Emily laughed, but covered her mouth.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just a funny image. You with a big white chef's hat and chef's--- what do they call them? Robes?"

"Apron, I think you mean...yeah...I think I'd like that." He smiled again. A little sadly. "But you know, no matter how far are fast we flee, I'm not sure we can really escape all this."

She smiled and shifted herself so she could rest her head in his lap. He smelled of sweat. She didn't seem to care.

"Nah, I mean the white uniforms," she said. "I don't know what they're called."

"They're just called chefs' uniforms." He stroked her hair with his other hand. She still felt a little cold. He found himself willing the sun to rise faster. "The hat's called a...toque...I think. I can't remember."

The scab pulsed on Emily's chest, in and out with every heartbeat. She sounded like she was dozing off.

"I was a little mean to Mags. I probably shouldn't have been. I just... it's so easy for me to be angry."

Remi was glad she couldn't see the grimace that flickered on his face. He covered it with another chuckle. "She'll be fine. Everyone knows what a jerk you can be. You'll both be fine." He took a deep breath of the brisk morning air. "We'll all be fine."

"They'll be fine. I'll still be a jerk."

Remi continued to quietly stroke her head, working his fingers through the knots that had formed in her pale tresses. The sun continued to rise, the birds continued to sing. Time and fate would not wait on them. Remi looked down upon Emily's face. He knew it well. He'd seen it twist with pain and anger, lift into smiles of forced politeness and fierce joy, settle into impenetrable stares that arrested his thoughts. A lifetime would deepen the soft lines of her face. Tragedy and disappointment would harden her eyes and weather her skin. Remi would have done anything to preserve her from that. But not just her. Remi looked over the ravaged cityscape behind them.

All Remi had wanted was to protect them. So much of his life had been consumed with that purpose. So many thoughts of how if he'd only been stronger, or smarter, or more in control. But what had it availed?

Nothing.

In spite of all of his efforts, Remi had not been able to save any of them. He thought if he'd had enough strength, dicipline, and cunning he could preserve them from all of the terrible, mundane tragedies of the world. But they all were tormented by demons both intensely personal and tragically shared. Wounded in spirit, mind, and body. Worst of all, broken in fellowship.

What had become of them? Of Freddie, Kat, Jynette, Thael? They had been wrenched from his grasp, taken beyond his reach. Remi looked down at Emily. Even those closest to him seemed so far. All that was left in his white-knuckle grip was despair. A crushing weight that all the strength he had tried to amass, could not lift. All his discipline could not overcome it. All his cunning could not stop him from trying anyway.

But he still had the strength to bear it. He still had dicipline enough to keep it from pulling him down. Still enough cunning to see that there was another way.

Remi turned his gaze back towards the horizon. He breathed out. He let go.

---

A Lake, Untranquil

Fury

Remi breathed in and almost choked on the smell. He coughed and wheezed. It was awful. Overpowering. More than a stench. He could taste it in his mouth. He was aware of almost nothing else. A bloating nausea suffused his sense of touch. His vision swam and lost a sense of depth. He could hear nothing but the sealed singing of the blood between his ears.

He missed Kim's warning, blinking his vision back. He felt a slight rhythmic tremor of nearby motion. He half-heard Olivia's shouted command. He didn't need to see where the rest of his team were looking. He could still taste the xenomorphs' essence in the back of his throat, smell their stink even with the mountain wind blowing to their backs. He made sense of the memetic sensations still convalescing in his mind.

"Captain," he choked out, his voice sounded strange to him. Alien. He cleared his throat. [INSERT ENEMY INFORMATION SCHPIEL HERE]

Remi was not given pause as the bear that had been his friend Kim charged into the unpleasant xenos surrounded by fire and mounted by Maggie. He did not hesitate this time. He felt a vitality to his limbs, a strength and a speed he had not felt before. Like the world was lighter, easier to manage. He could feel the friction of the Spectators inside of his, rioting into the spiritual confines in which they did abide. The pressure building up, lending a puissance to his actions, while it threatened to burst through him. He found the discipline to reign in the panic of his spirts. To focus their energies to his aims. He turned his gaze to the shifting currents of the battlefield. He had the cunning to see the correct move.

Drafting behind Kim Remi broke as the smoldering ursine hit the first of the larger xeno. His blade was gone, but Remi didn't feel lacking. What good had he ever really done with the blade. Hundreds of hours in the practice rooms. What had that sharp little bit of metal really availed him? He'd let it go.

His first kick met with two of the small, rotund xenomorphs with such force that their bodies deformed, deflated, and punted back into their fellows, who were in turn overturned. Remi's scything limbs reaped the swarming masses, clearing a field on Kim and Mag's left flank. He waded forwards, overextending his battleline, fighting his way to a small hill amidst the xeno horde. More of the beasts flooding in around him. Two more of the larger xenomorphs reared out of the sea of alien flesh before him. Remi's limbs were coated in the morph's orange ichor, as well as some of his own from wounds scoured by the broken bones of the lesser xeno. Remi breathed deep, drinking in more of the monsters cloying stench. Remi's chest swelled and filled with a different foulness, dredged up from the spiritual detritus around the hungering maw inside his soul. The area he'd cleared around him closed with onrushing xenomorph. He felt the slithering fragmented spirits congeal in his core. Remi exhaled, a torrent of terrible spirit stuff poured out of him bathing over the surface of the massed xenos. For a single moment the entire xenomorph swarm stilled as Remi's mimicked miasma filled their gaping mouths and seeped into their being.

The sliver of respite ended as quickly as it had begun. The xenomorphs continued their chittering charge, threatening to engulf Remi and his allies in numbers alone. Remi settle back into a defensive stance. He still had strength, discipline, and cunning enough for this. This was a weight he could bear.

As the fanged maws of the xenos bore down towards him a strange thought slithered into his mind. Big as they were. His mouth was bigger. A rare smile split Remi's face.

The hole in his soul still wanted more.

Four Years Ago

"Do you want to talk about it, Em?" Emily's father asked.

Emily blanched. Of course he knew, he always knew. Her father's one great gift in life, she sometimes thought, was how well he could read her. Maybe a close second was the way he looked at her now, expression neutral, eyebrows close together. She knew he meant to project patience, to make sure she knew he was listening. Mostly, though, she just felt like she was being inspected.

She was standing in the doorway between their kitchen and living room. The house was old, and the rooms on the lower floor had no doors, just arches with steps up and down. They'd eaten dinner together in mostly silence, and Emily had spent most of the time trying to muscle up the courage to say something. He had acted forcibly nonchalant, and hadn't even tried to make her help him clean up.

What was she afraid of? She wasn't a fearful person, that much she knew. Her formless dreams had long ago helped her overcome the traditional, waking anxieties. But what she felt now, trying to discuss her future with her dad, wasn't fear in the same way as you feared falling, or the dark, or even divorce. Emily wasn't afraid for herself, she was afraid for her dad. For how he might take the decision she'd made. For how he would feel, knowing she'd made it without him.

"Yeah, um," she said. "Yeah. I do. I mean, you know I didn't..."

She trailed off. Her father didn't seem to notice. He kept on drying plates and stacking them by the sink. Emily forced herself to step back into the room and fall into a chair.

"Yeah?" he said.

"I didn't mean for you to just find it like that." Emily said.

It had stupidly, uncharacteristically forgetful of her, leaving the acceptance letter out like that. Maybe it had been intentional - some kind of mental slip, to cope with the fact she'd been hiding things from her father. He'd recognized it right away, of course: The Academy seal was right on the cover. She'd peered down over the top of the stairs and seen him reading it, and vanished into her room before he could start asking questions. She hadn't needed his permission to apply - after all, you didn't get accepted until you were legally an adult - but they had been talking about her future and what she was going to do after graduation, so it was a deception nonetheless.

Her father folded his arms over his chest and looked at her.

"I know you didn't." he said.

She didn't say anything.

"What do you want me to tell you?" He asked. "That I'm against it? Of course I'm going to be against it. You knew that, or you would have told me, right?"

She nodded.

"So what should I say? That it's a bad idea? I mean, I don't know, Emily - I love you. But I'm not you, I don't--"

"It's not that," she said, interrupting him. "It's, more, I didn't-- I thought you'd see it as a rebellion thing. As an, I don't know, I'm gonna get out of the house and fuck you, Dad, I'm gonna do the one thing you wouldn't want me to. The one thing that'd scare you, after Mom--"

"Is that why you want to go?"

"I-- no," Emily said. "It's really, really not."

"It would scare me," he said. "But what scares me more is that you wouldn't want to tell me."

Emily looked away from him.

"We don't have to talk about it any more tonight," he said.

She nodded.

He put the last of the dishes away and left the kitchen, brushing past her. His arm lingered on her shoulder for a moment, but he didn't turn back. Emily sat there in silence for a few minutes. When she finally left and climbed the stairs, his door was closed. She wasn't looking forward to the dream-void that night. She knew, all alone in the darkness, she'd be unable to stop thinking about how he must have felt.

---

The Anatolian Wilderness - Battle

Emily and the... thing... stared each other down. Its enormous, gelatinous single eye blinked at her. She caught a glimpse of the scaly flesh that covered it, and felt the scar on her chest seize and writhe. It felt like her body was kicking into ultra-high gear, an adrenaline rush and then some. Everything felt perfectly clear and crisp, and all the unnecessary stimuli - her thoughts from moments before, the sounds of her friends preparing to fight in the background, even the cold and her own heartbeat - dropped away. She wasn't a passenger, thankfully, she was in control, but it felt like parts of her mind were being gently shuffled out of existence.

She swung her staff out behind her and charged at the thing, eyes still locked with its. As she reached it, she lept into the air over it, sweeping downwards with the staff and pushing it roughly to the side. More of the things - different shapes and sizes, but equally disgusting - slithered towards her, but she reached out with her hand and warped the ground beneath them, sending them ricocheting downwards and out of sight.

There were far, far too many to take one one by one, and more coalescing from behind rocks or outcroppings with every passing moment. Where were they coming from?

A hulking shape burst past her; she felt heat sear her back. Emily spun around. "What--?"

Another enormous creature, something she'd never seen before, was barreling through the oncoming xenos wave. As it squashed and thrust aside the smaller ones, Emily could see the larger creatures towards the center. They had to be the source - she didn't know why that made sense to her focused, fighting mind, but it did. It was like the information was coming from elsewhere, from the scar-- no. She wasn't going to think about that possibility now. Not while they were all in danger.

There had to be more of them; one of these things could never spawn so many tiny ones. She sprinted towards the area where the fire-beast was fighting now; whatever it was, it was at least temporarily an ally. She felt the tide of creatures around her, and willed the space within them to warp, boiling their blood, sucking the life from their disgusting, cyclopic eyes. The small ones popped like bubbles, splattering the ground, and a larger one rushed towards her, oozing from wounds her eldritch powers had inflicted.

Anatolian Wilderness: Battle III

---

The blazing Ursa display was a marvelous, but intimidating sight to behold. In a world where incorporeal apparitions could possess human beings and induce magnificent power and effects, there were few matters which could surprise, but what Kimberly had conjured and transformed into defied norms. In ancient times they would write songs and manifest plays based on these feats; they would speak and sing of the fiery bear that charged into the swarms with a white queen on its back, spitting lava and commanding darkness itself. Olivia smirked at the thought and was grateful that this smoldering beast considered her a consort. It was a force to be respect and reckoned with that inspired courage in friends and fear in foes. Remiel and Emily had already taken to this courage and followed Kimberly and Magdalena into battle with one of the Primes (Alpha). The dark haired girl considered her options based on Remiel’s information regarding their enemies. She needed to keep the hammer of their force clear of attackers from the rear.

Olivia soared herself off of the icy ground high up into the cool air above the swarming battleground, the massive broadsword gripped with a single hand on her tail. The girl had already acquired target on which she would rain down upon with devastating force. She twirled the enormous broadsword above her head in order to generate additional power as she fell. The slam which the bantam blob endured at the mercy of Olivia’s sword was destructive enough to obliterate brick and concrete. The blob literally burst into tainted crimson particles of flesh and blood. The girl’s impact plummeted immense amounts of thick snow into the air around her and the glacier ground beneath her feet sprouted cracks and cervices in all directions. Olivia raised the intimidating broadsword and swung it around her physique in the shape of a half moon, cleaving all the tiny blobs before her in twain and paving a way of blood to the nearest Prime (Beta).

The horrendous creature attempted to force the consumed spirits within its frame to abide by its decree, but it was to no avail. Remiel’s mimicking abilities had been useful and prevented the Primes from utilizing their foul effects. Olivia darted at the stupendous monster which stood at least three times her own height. The massive broadsword fell upon and tasted its flesh in a devastating strike across the left hemisphere of the Prime, blackened liquid sprouting forth from the wound and covering the crystal ground with taint. The thing violently lashed its vile tongue around itself in a desperate attempt to retaliate, grazing Olivia’s arm which propelled her away from its position. The dark haired girl landed on her feet, but in the midst of a swarm. In a furious whirlwind, spinning the titanic broadsword around her body, she disposed of and slashed the tiny blobs to bits and pieces. She rushed at the Prime again, agitated and livid, swinging her sword twice before dashing away in a graceful backwards vault.

The Prime suddenly retracted into itself and reduced its size to a mere fraction of the former, and then it darted at Olivia with tremendous velocity. The dark haired girl attempted to evade the incoming monstrosity, but it was seemingly locked in on her position. Just before it was to make impact, it unfolded its frame and crashed into Olivia with the entirety of its mass. The weight was crushing and Olivia grasped for air beneath the stupendous blob. She could not use her sword to escape as it was lying flat on the ground next to her. The stench of the creature was unbearable. Olivia’s only option at the time was to let her newly found spirits show what they were made of. A bright, blinding, grayish surge akin to a window sunray suddenly penetrated the massive heap of matter, which in turn screeched and removed itself from on top Olivia. The power of the spirit was peculiarly intense. It was not warm, nor was it cold. It just emanated an intruding energy that made Olivia’s skin flatten itself as if exposed to gale force winds and her bones ache as if exposed to low pressure weather.

Olivia struggled onto her feet with an expression of pure despair in her visage. However, she was unable to recover from the devastating attack by the Prime, as she had attracted the attention of another one (Gamma), which lashed its tongue at her and sent the girl sliding across the ground into another swarm of tiny blobs. The girl was in trouble, having attracted the attention of two primes and dozens of tiny blobs. At the same time, the last Prime (Omega) had converged on the others, who were combating the alpha Prime. Omega lashed its filthy and jagged tongue at Magdalena, which removed her from Kimberly’s back and sent her soaring through the air into a pack of tiny blobs. Fearing the fire, Alpha spat a volley of tiny teeth-like objects at Kimberly which penetrated his blazing fur.

Odd Thoughts

It was an odd day. The clouds darkened the skies but the heat seemed to be compounded, as if the clouds were keeping the heat from the center of the earth trapped and sending it back to those that lived on its surface. A boy sat playing with toys brought with him from the big move, traditional toys from a place that his parents referred to as the homeland, something that the boy didn’t really understand at the time. The house itself was relatively bare; hardly containing anything other than what was absolutely needed to live, the walls were devoid of anything that might hint at a “normal home” instead remaining bear with white walls and white carpeting, creating the illusion that they were one and the same. As the boy continued to play he could hear his parents conversing in the next room, discussing things that rose above his comprehension. They had been having these conversations more and more frequently with strange people and strange pieces of paper that they told him that he wasn’t allowed to look at.

The boy’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden loud burst in the conversation amongst his parents in their special locked room, although he couldn’t tell what the exact words were but he could tell that they were said in anger. Feeling worried that something was happening that he may be able to fix, the boy decided to leave his toys and make the seemingly long trek to the end of the hall to see what the commotion was about. As he stood at the gaping maw of the hallway he noticed that the dreaded door stood partially cracked as an eerie orange glow emanated from just beyond his sight. With each creeping steep the sounds of their conversation grew louder and louder, although it was being spoken at such a high speed and the fact that the conversation was something that he had only heard once or twice in the whole of his life but he could almost make out some of the conversation. There was talk of gathering “intelligence” and reporting back to “HQ”, but the one thing that kept coming up over and over again was something called O.N.I. He wasn’t sure what it was but the both of the boy’s parents kept talking about it over and over again. The boy’s intent listening was brought to a sudden halt when he heard his name. For some reason amongst their discussion of whatever O.N.I. was and HQ was had something to do with him,

”Yasuo you really can’t mean to go through with this do you?”

”It isn’t my decision O.N.I. has made it crystal clear that he started showing signs of his abilities manifesting then we had to return to headquarters. If he is to become a Guardian then he must do so without our aid.”

”To hell with the original plan, I won’t leave our son to fend for himself in a country that we know nothing about!”

The boy pressed himself as close to the doorframe as he could so he could peer into the room that once held so much mystery to him. His mother’s short, sandy blonde hair was tussled from raking and combing through with worn and weary knuckles turned white in fury and frustration. His father was an entirely different story, his face was angular and sharp his eyes were narrowed with furious determination but what caught him off guard the most was his overall appearance, where his mother seemed tired and run down, his father, Yasuo, appeared to be in pristine condition.

”You know what happens to those who directly defy O.N.I. Maria. Besides, you abandoned your own country and became a member of the Suji nation. Let your son become a citizen of this land on his own.”

Anatolian Wilderness – After leaving the Tree of Life

Aaron’s reflection into his own past was interrupted again by a series of odd behavior by Kimberly. Ever since the group had left the Tree Kim had been acting rather odd towards him. As he walked in the blistering cold of the wilderness he looked around as some of the others becoming cold and start to shiver, Aaron supposed that was one of the better qualities of being a Guardian with spirits of fire, you never seem to get cold. As they trekked on through the snow Aaron couldn’t help but sneak glances at both Olivia and Maggie, the figure of their backs was an ever constant reminder of the mistakes that he had made and the choices that he now had to live with.

From the corner of his eye Aaron could barely make out the distinct figure of what appeared to be a man doing Kami could only guess in the vague general direction of Aaron, when he turned to look at the man in earnest he was gone and the only thing left was Kim. With odd and confused look on his face Aaron turned around and kept walking, it felt like something else was screwing with him or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

The remaining members of WARG had traveled a considerable distance further when it finally came time for them to take a well-deserved break. Aaron wandered off a short distance to think things over and actually process what had happened, both professionally and personally. After sticking his hands in his pockets he made an interesting discovery, he actually had a full pack of smokes and a working lighter shoved deep into one of the pockets on his pants. As he stood there inhaling what he knew to be the vile chemicals wrapped in paper, Aaron was disturbed by the almost incoherent mumbling of Kim. Although he was speaking at a tone that he could almost have missed as a passing wind Aaron got the gist of what he was trying to say. After taking a long drag of his cigarette Aaron pondered what Kim had said.

It was true that what he had done to Maggie was reprehensible and that he agreed with everything that Kim had said, Aaron couldn’t help but ponder as to why this had to be brought up now, and for that matter what business was it of his to tell him what he should do at this point. Now, granted, he was aware the he was thinking of the group of a whole and he was becoming more and more aware that his presence among the group was becoming more caustic by the hour but there was something more to his request, an almost primal desire to see Maggie’s wrong righted. Finally, it dawned on him, Kim was in love with Maggie as Aaron was with Liv.

As the slow mixture of his breath and the smoke escaped in frigid air, Aaron responded to Kim. This time, however, his newly acquired spirits remained quiet for once leaving Aaron to speak for himself.

”Kim, mind your own damned business. I’ll tend to MY business when I decide to, not when I’m told to.”

Anatolian Wilds – Battle III

The others had dove head first into the fight had become the custom for their little group, although it was interesting that Aaron wasn’t the one that started it for once. The intimidating sight of Kim turning into the giant bear of flames and Maggie riding the awesome figure into battle was truly a sight to behold. Aaron’s admiration was shortened when a horde of the mini blobs began flopping their way towards him, they almost weren’t worth the time to draw his blade.

’Too easy…’

As Aaron held the handle of his sword, his other hand slid down to the trigger on the sheath and gave it a quick squeeze and as he did so dashed through the group of enemies, causing an almost undetectable amount of wind that Aaron sharpened into one massive sword. The mini blobs melted away into the snow. As Aaron looked on as Kim and Maggie took on the alpha Prime and Liv gave a massive hit to beta he decided to take fight the Primes himself. Charging head first towards the first Prime he saw (Omega) Aaron unleashed a furious assault from all directions, constantly drawing and sheathing his sword to utilize its natural speed boost. As his assault continued on Omega he saw another (Gamma) send out its disgusting barbed covered tongue to lash Aaron off of his target. The hotheaded boy gracefully dodged the lashing and launched himself straight towards what he had to assume was the creature’s maw.

As he landed the creature Aaron planted his sword firmly into the creature’s lower jaw and peered into the Primes now thrashing and gaping maw and stared at the hideously bulbous eye. Taking in a deep breath of cold air he released a full burst of immolation directly onto the creature’s eye.

----- Lillian Ynyr: Celebrity Party -----
I check my reflection in the mirror for the hundredth, maybe thousandth, time since the party started. I know that I didn’t look any different since the last time I checked, but I couldn’t help it: I wanted to look my best when he came.

As an Ynyr, I was used to these types of parties. Those parties packed with important people; a party where only those with power, wealth, and influence were allowed to participate in. A party where everyone wears the most expensive clothes they have and an invisible mask to hide their true thoughts and feelings. There is no “truth” or absolutes in this place. This “party” is not a party for entertainment: it is a business meeting pretending to be a social gathering. Here, anything can happen. Play your cards right and you will increase in power. If you lose, you lose everything. This party is a game called politics. It is a game where I am nothing, but a pawn. Just like he is. We will continue to be the pawns if we don’t learn how to play the game. Not that I care about it. No. I never cared about it. If I ever did care, I cared because he’s here.

When we are told the Edrik’s arrived, I check myself one last time before leaving the spot with my father to greet William and Nathaniel Edrik. After going through the formalities, our fathers leave us alone to talk about business. A genuine smile breaks through our masks as we look at each other. “Lily.” My betrothed said. “Nate,” I greet back.

---

Nathaniel Edrik was one of many potential husbands my family has been keeping tabs on since before Nathaniel or even I was even born. Like many other families here, a majority of the Ynyr marriages were calculated and based on benefits. Had the house of Edrik been any less influential, I may have never met Nate let alone become his betrothed. At first, I hated the idea. I always dreamed of marrying for love even though I knew that my family would have never allowed it. I hated the fact that my future was already decided without my consent, but nothing could be done about it. This was how things worked in the world I lived in. Nate was nothing to me at first ---just one of the many boys that may or may not be my husband in the future--- but each time we met, I started to like him: it turned out that we had much in common. Eventually, we became friends. When it was just the two of us, we could be who we truly were. I came to think that, if my future husband had to be someone in this lot, it’d be Nate. I wonder when that feeling changed. Now, there is no one else I’d like to marry, but Nate.

At the bar, we catch up and tell each other any and all significant things that happened since the last time we saw each other. It did not take long for the conversation to veer into Nancy’s direction. Nate was still grieving over his ex-girlfriend. I know it is pointless to get jealous over a dead woman, but I cannot stop it from happening. It’s difficult to act sympathetic in front of Nate when part of me is glad that Nancy was no longer an obstacle. I am the only place where he can seek comfort: just as it was before Nancy came into the picture; the way it should have always been.

“I met Samuela the other day.”
I feel my heart turn cold, “who?”
“Nancy and Kimberly’s daughter. My uncle and aunt showed her to me the other day when WARG left for a mission.” Nate looks at the turquoise drink in front of him and smiles as if he was looking at Samuela, “you should have saw her. She was absolutely gorgeous. She had her mother’s eyes and my grandmother’s hair... But... I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; my grandmother is Kimberly’s great grandmother... It must have skipped a few generations.” Nate sighs before taking a sip of his drink, “when I looked into those eyes… I… felt like Nancy was there. She was looking at me and… and I… realized that Samuela… Samuela is the last part of Nancy in this world. I don’t know what I would’ve done if father didn’t come to get me.”
“Nate,” I try to keep my voice as warm as possible, “Samuela is Kimberly and Nancy’s child. You can’t keep her unless you’re going to call in some favors and ‘legitimately’ kidnap her.”
“No,” he answered as I expect he would, “I’ll never be like my father---… or any of these people here.” The Nate I knew was a man of honor, he would never use the Edrik’s influence to make things go in his favor: he wanted to win things using only his skills.
“Besides,” I add, “you know what will happen if you do adopt a child before getting married.”
Nate chuckles, “my value as a bachelor goes down?”
“And my father will get furious.”
“Well at least it’ll mean I won’t be forced to marry anyone.”
“And leave me to marry some other bastard from this place? You’re a cruel man, Nathaniel Edrik, leaving your only friend behind?”
“Oh, you’ll do just fine. It’s not like we won’t see each other again---…” I give him a look as he pauses for a moment, “you’re right. Never mind. Your father would make sure it’d never happen.”
“Didn’t I say you’re the only decent man around this place? If I have to marry someone, it might as well be my best friend,” I lie straight in his face. I want him more than anything in the world.

Nate smiles weakly as his eyes stare at the drink in his hand. I know that he was thinking of Nancy. Even when he was forced to break up with her once our families decided that we would marry, Nate never truly gave up on her. Even when she married his first cousin (once removed), the two secretly met each other, trying to think of a way to finally be together. But all that dreaming ended when that woman died (come to think of it, I should feel sorry for Kimberly, poor man, oblivious to his wife’s unfaithfulness; at least the harlot minx is gone and will no longer be able to play with any man’s heart). The woman he wanted is gone, so what reason was there to object to an arranged marriage? I know he doesn’t hate me. Might as well marry someone you know and like instead of some other person you don’t know and possibly wouldn’t like. Right, Nate? “You’re right.” I would have jumped out of my seat and kissed Nate if he didn’t say the words as if he simply gave up. He laughs, “kind of weird though, marrying someone so close you already consider family. It feels incestuous.”
It hurts knowing that the man you love only sees you as a friend, a sister at most, but never as a woman. “Ew! That’s a disturbing image that was better unsaid!”
Nate laughs and apologizes, offering me a drink. I laugh with him and lean in closer to him as we finally move passed the topic of Nancy.

I sometimes wonder if I am no different from the people around me. These people I swore I would never be like. Long time ago, I was able to be myself when I was with Nate… but ever since I realized I loved him, I started to hide my true feelings and my ugly parts. I do my best to play the “best friend” role, but I ache for more. I want Nate: his body and his heart, but I fear rejection. I fear loosing what we have if I cannot get more. So I seduce him subtly. I try to manipulate him so that his heart would sway over to me.

I know I am the one for him. I know that I will be able to love and support him… for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. This feeling is pure: not like the lies littered in this party room.

The ugly and dark side of me laughs at me as if to mock me.

But she’s not really gone is she? At least half of her still exists in this world in the form of a baby. Paranoia whispers to me. How long do you think it will take for her to steal his heart too?

I try to ignore it.

But it still lingers and it festers.

---

----- The Anatolian Wilderness: Battle III -----
Kimberly hissed when Blob Prime Alpha spat out teeth-like objects at him. That attack alone hurt enough, yet for a split second before the attack, Kimberly felt as if he had been slashed by another thing; a sensation that felt as if he got slashed by a thorn whip. Before the Blob leader could do anything else, the fiery bear mighty teeth caught its tongue and began pull at it as the lava-saliva started to burn it off.

You should be careful Kimberly Faye. In exchange for the spirit you borrow from her, anything that happens to Magdalena Abendroth will effect you.
So the damage she receives when we’re linked, hurts me too?

Correct.
He was going to need to be more careful than usual if that was the case. Although the ability was not so useful in an area with thick snow, Kimberly attempted to call the earth spirits’ assistance to increase his fiends’ defense, but was met with silence. The giant bear tried again and failed. Not only did he get no response from his spirits, but he also could barely feel their presence. They were there, yet far away.

Something is wrong… why can’t I use my spirits?

The link between you and Magdalena Abendroth is strong, but fragile. For a single spirit to express their ability in a pool full of earth, sound, and various organism spirits, the spirits within you needs to be silenced. The only reason why we are present is to keep your current form, to prevent Magdalena Abendroth’s fire spirit from mixing into your other spirits, and to stabilize the link. If you wish to use any of your own abilities, you must deactivate the link.
Why do you keep telling me these things after I try it?

Would you like us to lecture you on all of the details during battle, Kimberly Faye?
No thank you, but thank you for asking.

The tongue finally give out. Kimberly guessed the only reason why there was no blood when he detached the creature’s tongue from its body was because his current form was actually so hot that it cauterized the wound. The body part that used to be a tongue turned into ash and was carried away by the wind before it could hit the ground.

Stunned by what had just happened, the Blob leader did not quickly counter attack Kimberly, so he took the opportunity to give the xenomorph two powerful bear slaps across its face. He felt bits and pieces of the Blob come off as his bear claws scrapped across the creature’s surface.

---

---

---

ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ ｔｈｅ ｃｏｌｄ»

---

ｏｆ ｍａｎ ｔｏ ｂｅａｓｔ»

---

Ｂａｔｔｌｅ ＩＩＩ»

----- Athene Perth: Laboratory-----
0%
Zero. No matter how many times she looked at it, the number never changed. She could bang her head on the desk or even binge drink until she couldn’t see straight and it she’s lucky enough, maybe the number would magically increase to 99.9%. While those tactics might have been successful in erasing her memory or causing possible permanent damage to the brain, they would not change the number in the real world.

They were related to some degree, this is true, but it still did not change the fact that the number for this specific test was zero.

She could change the number to be 99.9: that was exactly what the Appleberry’s wanted. To falsify the results; to make everyone blind to the truth; to keep people safe and happy in ignorance.

But Dr. Perth knew the truth. She knew that this truth ---even if she did change the numbers--- could easily be discovered if people decided not to use Oakridge Military Academy’s database.

DNA Paternity Testing Result: 0%
Kimberly Rene Faye is not Samuela Jolee Faye’s biological father. That was what the number zero meant. The results were just as shocking as the time when Kimberly had suddenly announced that he had married Nancy without anyone else’s acknowledgement: not even his childhood friends knew that he had the intention to marry someone. One day, he was just married. No wedding or anything. They signed the necessary documents, turned it in, and that was it.

Dr. Perth wondered if Kimberly knew that Samuela was not his child. It was obvious that his grandparents knew, but they could have found out without Kimberly discovering the truth.

She speculated the possibility of Nancy not knowing: low.
She was curious if the Edrik’s knew: they’d make sure it would never come to light.
She was uncertain if Nathaniel knew.

If they knew Nathaniel Edrik was Samuela’s real father.

“Good evening, Athene.”

---

----- The Anatolian Wilderness: I Strongly Advise -----
“Kim, mind your own damned business. I’ll tend to MY business when I decide to, not when I’m told to.”

Kimberly stood there silently. Even as Ghost began to laugh hysterically, he did not respond. Ghost knew that Aaron would not have done what Kimberly requested. “See Kim? Do you see what I mean? He’d never openly admit that he’s wrong! That’d only hurt his little feelings! His pride! His worth! His manliness! He’ll never apologize. He’ll just do this again with a different victim. In fact, I bet he’s already done it before and got away with! He learned that his crimes would never get punished, because he got away with it before! He probably forcefully kissed Vi before and never apologized for it either! He’s that kind of man, Kim! Ahaha! He's just like 'him'.”

It took all of Kimberly’s will power to drain out Ghost’s laughter. He sighed and closed his eyes as if to collect himself. As if to prepare himself. The giant stood there like that for a while, before finally opening his eyes. The raven-haired man looked down at Aaron with impassive eyes. Eyes that showed nothing. Only the reflection of the man it looked down at. For those who saw Kimberly in his childhood, these eyes were familiar. Although he had not used it as frequently as he did in his first year in Helston so many years ago, it was a defense mechanism Kimberly developed and perfected during times of difficulty. It was a wall constructed to mute all the pain, physical and/or emotional, and it was a mask to hide whatever emotions his eyes could have revealed ---however miniscule it may have been. Whatever he was about to do next, was something Kimberly thought may end with hurting someone's feelings.

When the giant spoke, his voice was as flat and blank as his expression. “This became our business the second your actions effected someone other than yourself. If this had been somewhere else ---a different place, in a different time--- I would have left you alone to apologize in your own time. Even if that meant never. But we’re not in that different place or time. We don’t have the luxury to wait for things to magically ‘be okay’. You have to make an effort to take the first step to make things better. It might not change things instantly, but it’s better than nothing. We’re in a situation where teamwork is vital and each person’s actions affects the whole team. Are you that preoccupied with yourself that you think whatever you do or say will have no affect on us as a whole or as an individual?

Even if we ignore all that, Aaron, it’s very simple: you forcefully kissed Magdalena. If Magdalena chooses to do so, she can sue you for sexual assault. Fortunately for you, we all know she would never do that, but you should not mistake that for forgiveness. Your actions hurt someone. I’m sorry that you got hurt, too, but it was your own doing. Apologize Aaron. If you cared or even respected Magdalena, you would have done it long before I had to tell you to do it. If there is a problem here that only involves you. This is it. The fact that I have to tell you apologize is your problem and nobody else’s. If you are an individual who can take responsibility for your own actions, move aside whatever pride that is holding you back, and apologize to her.” The man seemed like he was about to continue, but then he fell silent as his gaze wavered.

“Oh stop it. You’re wasting your breath. I’m willing to bet all my non-existent money that Ron won’t do it, because someone told him to do it. He’s awesome like that. His own feeling comes before all.” Ghost smirked, well aware that anything that he said would never reach Aaron’s ears. “You only care about yourself and whoever happened to be the lady of the day. It wouldn’t matter what we think of you. We’re near, if not at, the bottom of your priority list. You’d kill us without a second thought if it meant that you’ll feel better.” Kimberly shot a warning glare towards Ghost’s direction, making Ghost hold up his hands and back off.

The giant’s eyes returned to Aaron, his usual tone and speed of talking returning slowly, “I… ‘strongly advise’ this… because I want things to get better… We have enough problems as it is… we don’t need more.”

Anatolian Wilderness: Battle III
All I see is red; all I see is red; all I see is red
A bed of roses - red, red, red
A pool of blood - red, dead, dead
Red is all I see

---

Better late than never, as most are want to say.

From the background, as his mind wrangled with the possibilities and with thorough analysis (something he's usually not prone to doing, but in this case, his mind needed something to grasp onto before diving in headfirst) Royce kept to himself the majority of the fight, watching as friend and foe alike clashed. It was different, odd with how few of them there were now, like something was missing, more than just the friends that actually were. It hit Royce in the gut, churning until it exploded in a burst of pain that he never truly felt but within the confines of his mind, just ached. It threw him into the side of a tree, made him heavily dependent on the bark that scratched through burnt and muddied clothing, though somehow still operational in its capacity to protect him. Maybe standing around wasn't the best idea; surveying the fight seemed ridiculous, at this point, and proved no more a distraction than the clouds in the sky. That made Royce almost desperate, reaching for his rapier as if it held all the answers.

The sword felt heavy in his hands, almost weighed him down from where he kept to the tree. If not for the sturdy sentinel, he'd more than likely tumble, face caked in the dirt below his feet. The weapon was never an extension of himself—he never let it be for fear of attachment, ridiculous as it seemed—but looking at it now, waving it through the air haphazardly, it seemed even less so a part of him. He let it. Let it fall to his side in a display almost careless, moronic even as his eyes, half-lidded glazed over the tumbling Magdelina, the raucous Kimberly, fur flying, to Remi's silent guard and fearless leader Olivia, to what he'd jest as his twin, Em, and finally toward their livid Sophia and Aaron's bravado full force. And it ached, in his chest and the hand that held loosely to the sword, tip nipping at the ground to scratch the leaves.

He wanted it to stop.

The blobs closest to the edge of the field went down first, his rapier stabbing loosely into their frantic, large eyes like he could care less if it even killed them. And he continued, caring lazily for any swipes or lashes that found their way to him. Royce picked up his pace, red finally tinging the rim of his vision, until the careless stabs became more precise, more surgical, and with something behind each that Royce could identify, but choice not to, in fear or simple want of ignorance. And he flew, leaped from foe to foe in his quickening pace, stabbing until his sword was tinged in blue-black goo and felt less heavy, more attached—another thing he'd willingly ignored, for the better, he proposed. The goo made way for a purple miasma, brushing from the pours of his skin and sliding onto the blade itself, hissing as it climbed down to the tip and fell in thin strings. They cried then, aching as their nervous systems exploded in a flurry of purple and black, only lasting as long as the blade sunk into their flesh and Roy relished the sound. Reveled and pumped through with adrenaline in the cry of anguish as a tongue lashed out, his foot pinning it down with as much speed and his rapier slicing clean through the reddened flesh and he cried along with another beast, mocking acid burning is tongue and throat, as Royce let loose the rapier, watching it arch into the air until it found itself embedded in the side of the smaller creatures.

Everything engulfed into blackness after that, pouring through as he fell into the abyss of dirtied, anguished hands, and found himself back into the red tinged world of the living in that instant. Grasping onto the handle of the blade, Roy unleashed it from the beast, smiling wide at the xeno's unearthly scream as it moved to attack. The body of it slammed into his side, tossing him, rolling him through the patch of grass and dirt, grunting into every hit until he slid back onto his feet. Brows creased in contempt, Royce dove forward to relinquish the anger pent inside, letting the sword seep through the eye as a tongue wrapped tight to his forearm. It pulled, stopped the tip from piercing anything of more importance, threatening to break Royce's arm with a simple flick of the powerful organ.

Pulling himself forward, he narrowed his eyes to stare the beast dead center, almost daring it, almost wanting it to unleash the series of pain through bone and muscle until he felt only the numbness. And the xeno pulled, only tugging sharply for but a second to hear something strain but not snap. Royce tugged harder, his other hand brandishing a brown, vine like substance as the thorns that grew from it sunk into the flesh of the blob's tongue. He pulled then pushed, the blade rushing forward until it found the underbelly, found the ground beneath it and his arm, now laden with brambles found itself deep in the large eye socket of the xeno. Royce savored the moment, then, letting the blackened, tainted blood of the beast drip cleaning down the vines twisting tighter around his forearm before letting it all go.

Unleashed from within the beast, vines exploded with spores and thorns coating the air around it, finding beasts as it dug its way through the earth, spirits laughing as they twisted and turned, invisible to the eye, round and round each limb of large, dull green vine and digging deep into the flesh in bursts of orange spores. The beasts around him backed off, finding it better not to skewer themselves in the large plantlike structure that burst forth from their fallen comrade like a parasite looking for more suitable a host. The large vines found their way to the nearest ally, Kimberly, wrapping large armor around the man's fearsome form and bursting forth a small spray of orange into the foes around him on impact, digging snugly enough to be considered a second skin. As soon as the vines appeared, so did Royce, a portal screaming his arrival as unwilling hands pushed him from the nethers, dark twisting off him like a shroud.

Hands finding fur beneath the plant armor he'd fashioned for the man, Royce offered him a smile in spite of the mental war he was currently waging, logic winning out over impulse for just that moment. And in that instant, he flashed a look at the nearest Prime, the large sentry's eyes meeting his own before it reeled back with a cry and a warning. The spirit within him burst forth in a blaze, silver eyes flashing red for the split second it materialized, searing its figure like a brand into the beast's mind. And that cry turned hostile, eyes still locked onto Royce's own, as well as the smile, a predatory flash of his teeth as he matched the stare.

"I think I feel like dying tonight," he offered to no one in particular, though he was certain his words flew fine toward Kimberly's keen ears, "How about you, Kimmy?" directing those words louder and pointedly, but without cutting off his staring match with the beast before them.

Feast and Famine

Remi struck like tragedy. Simple. Tragedy usually wasn't complex. It was a little thing; a clot that doesn't flow, brake pads that are just a little too worn, fear and a little bit of lead. Unexpectedly. A tragedy rarely heralds itself with pomp and circumstance. It comes over telephone wire and lettertype as easily as take-out orders and bank statements. With a force. Tragedy could hurt in a manner and with a depth that could break you in ways you didn't know possible.

Remi struck like tragedy. The beast never saw him coming. Maybe it was the way he smelled. The taste of him. He could not tell. His senses were filled with the essence of these xenomorphs. Much of him cloaked in their lifesblood. Perhaps it was merely distracted by the spirits he could taste coming off of Roy. It also couldn't have good peripheral vision given its ocular placement. Whatever the reason, the beast never saw him coming. He hit the Prime dead in it's flank, his shoulder driving into it's gelatinous mass. The force of his impact rippled across the flesh of the beast, resounding like a thunder crack. More importantly, it nearly overturned the beast. It reeled, leg spines scrabbling at the air as it experienced a rare change in balance. Remi dropped to the ground before it could right itself, rushing beneath the xeno. There was no part of Remiel's training that dictated or advised him on how to engage these types of Xeno in unarmed combat, so what followed, Remi had to make up himself.

Remi grabbed two of the leg spines as the beast righted itself. Twisting them torturously inward in a way that would break the bones, if this beast had anything resembling a skeleton that connected them. Driving the spine in and up he punched them into the relative softness of the beasts underbelly. Skewering it with its own weight on its own limbs. The beast undulated in pain, Remi could feel it's musculature writhing, trying to retract in on itself and escape the pain and hurt he was inflicting on it. Remi had no intention of giving it the chance. With a snarl he levered the bulk of the beast into the air. His arms burned, not from the strain of muscle, but from the pressure of the Spectators stampeding through his veins. They were panicked and mobbing. He fed the beasts pain into them. His own pain. All the rage of emotion that he drank from the air with such thirst. His arms extended upwards, and for an instant, the massive xeno was dead-lifted above Remi's head, writhing in pain and anger and confusion. Remi's fingers dug into the gouges he's bored, rending the creatures skin, ripping at the bleeding flesh within, more of the creatures ichor pouring over his straining shoulders and puddling beneath him. Remi's arms shuddered with effort, he hadn't strength enough to maintain his grip on the beast. He turned and hurled the xeno across the field, the leviathan tumbling over end crushing more of it's lesser brood under it's bulk, clothing it's surface as much as Remi in the blood of it's kind before crashing into another of it's kin with a wet smack. Remi's arms dropped limb before him, his back hunched with effort. His breath came fast and ragged. Remi slowly straightened, he brought his breathing under control.

He drew the back of his arm across his sweating brow, succeeding only in smearing more of the alien ichor over his forehead. He was suffused with the beasts' essence. He could feel it seeping into him, swirling into the hole at the bottom of his being. But even drowning in the xenos' spiritual flotsam, Remi could taste more in the air than the beasts. He could taste Aaron, his confidence to the point of arrogance, masking so much turmoil. He could taste Magdalena, the searing coals of pain in her that she tried to smother with purpose. He could taste Kim, his dicotomous, alchemical schizophrenia of a mind. He could taste Roy, his spirit fractured with lose and glued with fatalistic frenzy. He could taste Olivia, her desperation to stay aloft the chaos and mayhem. He could taste Emily, filled with a fire that forged her thoughts to glass. He could taste himself, a mouthful of the keenest spice of all. Hunger.

Just a taste. Not enough to know. Not enough to savor. He tasted words in his mouth. Words had had not heard but jogged in his throat. Remi turned to Royce.

"Roy my boy!" His arm flashing outwards, extending to the massed bodies of the xenomorphs, living or otherwise. "We have such a cornucopia of a feast prepared for us! You can't be full after just one bite!" Remi's breath shuddered again, he seemed to be breathing in more than he ever breathed out. His eyes seemed to suck in the light. He licked the blood off of his bottom lip. He looked feverish and the air seemed to have dropped a couple degrees.

Remi smiled in a way that looked like he was about to go for someone's throat.

Anatolian Wilderness: Misunderstandings (music)

---

The tension that had slowly crept to engulf the friends in a fog of obscure intepretations and misunderstandings finally dawned on Olivia, as she noticed Kimberly’s and Aaron’s strange behaviors towards one another and their somewhat less than friendly exchange of words during a moment of rest in the frigid wilderness. The brunette had cautiously approached the two when they conversed, when Kimberly unleashed his entire speech entailing the ethics of proper action in response to wrong doings, ready to intervene if the situation would go sour. It would not have been the first time that domestic disputes within their circle had led to physical confrontations, but this combination of individuals was rare and potentially devastating. Olivia had always made it her responsibility to end physical confrontations whenever she was able to, even if she did not always understand why.

As Kimberly speaks the words, they resonate within Olivia’s mind and she is able to put the pieces together; what was previously a mystery, she is now able to comprehend to its fullest and realize that the genesis of its cause might have rested with her. Olivia had not properly percieved Aaron’s intentions and the weight of his words on the boat as she was too blinded by her obsessional love for a figment of her imagination. The brunette’s palms become slightly moist and her fingers begin to fidged around the grip of her sword, an uncomfortable lump of saliva forms at the back of her throat, and her lashes begin to nervously flutter. Olivia bathed and drowned in such confessions on almost a daily basis at the academy, young boys who in secret loved her but alas could not suffer in silence any longer. She had learned to zone herslef out, but this time it was different; Aaron was a lifelong friend, not some random stripling mesmerized by Olivia’s visage on the first day of school.

At the end of Kimberly’s speech, Olivia interrupted after having observed the two boys from a few breaths away. She knew that the fuzzy giant would never start a fight with anyone — he was probably as close to a pacifist as a Guardian could ever get — but the hothead, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. If what Aaron had said on the baot was true, there was a good chance that Olivia was the only one that could calm him down in this matter. The brunette roots her blade in the icy ground betwixt the two boys. Her visage and tone is calm; lashes reasting easy, slowly sailing between Kimberly and Aaron as they stare at each other. “Apologize to whom… about what?” Olivia inquires. She plays the ignorance and stupidity card to see how they react, to entice a response primarily out of Aaron.

Anatolian Wilderness: Battle III (music)

---

Magdalena arrived as an ardent savior, a white knight to relive Olivia of her predicamnet and lay waste to the tiny heaps of mass converging on the dark haired girl. Magdalena’s movements were graceful and the force of her lethal chakram devastating to the horrid titans that sought to devour the girls’ spirits and rend their flesh. A moment of recovery presented itself and Olivia could stand upon her feet again. “Thank you, darling,” Olivia said as she retrieved her gigantic sword. “Another second and I’d probably be mush like those things,” she continued and hinted at the splats of pus and gore on the melted, yet icy ground.

However, the respite is shortlived. The Prime Gamma violently spits its jagged projectiles at Magdalena, having noticed her otherwordly strength agains its kind, grazing her fragile skin all over her frame. Olivia attempts to deflect some of the foul, darting teeth from the monster with her blade, but they are too fast. The brunette becomes furious and casts herself into the heat of battle, rushing towards Prime Gamma with blazing speed. She propells her sword through the air with a forceful jerk and it pierces the horrid creature’s stomach area, or whatever one would name the strecutures beneath its infernal mouth. Olivia slides across the icy ground just before making contact with her prey and tackles the hilt of her sword as to pierce the monster even further. She rips the steel out of its burrowed position within Gamma’s flesh and swings it in an arc across the creature’s jaw.

Meanwhile, the Prime Beta appears to go completely insane and berserk from the effects of Royce’s assault. As Olivia backs away from the Prime Gamma, she notices Prime Beta’s erratic behavior and calls out to her team: “Don’t attack that one!” she shouts. The enraged creature has ignored the friends and begun to salughter the tiny blobs converging all around them; on less Prime to deal with. While the Prime Alpha begets hatred towards Kimberly and lashes at the beast with its vile tongue, the other primes have heeded the call of Prime Omega and converged on their nemesis. Prime Omega soars through the air and crushes Magdalena where she stands stunned by the jagged assault only seconds ago.

----- The Anatolian Wilderness: Battle III -----
Kimberly saw [her] in Royce’s “smile” and it made his heart sink at the sight of it. It was death. More specifically, it was the desire of it. It was a desire Kimberly had seen more times than he would have liked to. How often [they] tried to cover it: sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a stoic expression. The more [they] wished for the end, the more likely [they] started to cover it up. Royce’s smile did not comfort Kimberly. It only reminded him of those he lost; of the people he had failed.

[She] whose smile was as bright as the sun. [She] who took her own life and left this world to see [her] husband, without [her] child.
[She] who contemplated death for [herself] and [her] child, to save them both… only to be killed when [she] wanted to live the most.
[She] whose eyes and shadow constantly tell him that [she] wished to run away from all the pain this world forced [her] to endure.
[Ze] who never had the chance or given the choice.
And now Royce. Or was Kimberly too dense to notice it earlier?

"I think I feel like dying tonight. How about you, Kimmy?"

Considering the current situation, Kimberly could have let the comment slide or, at the very least, discussed it after the battle was over, but he couldn’t. Kimberly knew the cost of being inactive was. He may have only been five years old when his mother committed suicide, but he knew that something was wrong… yet he did nothing about it. Nothing. That’s why she’s dead.

Even Clair regretted “his” inactions. Yes, he was busy at the time when his daughter called him that fateful day, but what if… what if he chose her over his work? What if he listened to his instinct that he would never be able to speak to her “later” if he did not speak to her “now”? Would she have been alive today? It was a possibility that they would never know. Clair hung up on his daughter’s first and last call for help. He delayed his action. He did not act when he needed to. He did nothing. That’s why she’s dead.

Joyce’s death taught her parents and her child that there was a certain point in time when action and inaction determined one’s fate. Once that point passed, there was no “later”. The choice was made and nothing could be done to take it back.

WARG was surrounded by an army of xenomorphs: a place and time that was one of the least ideal conditions to comfort anyone. Or maybe that was exactly why Royce decided to say those words now, out of all places: it was a situation in which he could die quite easily.

Was “this” that “point”?

Was the time for action, now?

Would Kimberly regret his inaction if Royce were to die the next moment?

Yes. Yes, he would.

The fire bear started to make low grunts and growling noises in response to Royce’s question. Unfortunately, Royce was not fluent in bear. Not that it actually mattered. What words could he have said to Royce that would comfort him? Even in human form, the giant would have stumbled over his words. Had he been anyone, but Kimberly, he might have said it right. Maybe Emily or Thael could have made this all better, but he was not them. He was Kimberly: a man whose mouth was only good at staying closed. He didn’t even know the first thing of being eloquent. Then again, what was the point of fancy words if they did not move the listener’s heart?

How does one persuade someone who is dead set on dying? How could one explain the impact one’s death ---even the desire of it--- has on the living? Why can’t “I don’t want you to die”, be compelling enough? “Now” may be painful, but life could not have been all that bad: the reason why there is pain is because one knows how it feels without pain. Some say that people feel sadness, because they have felt happiness at one point. Why can’t they live for that happiness? If the one joy in their life vanished, why can’t they find another? Not to replace what was lost, but to walk towards the future without the shackles of the past dragging them down. However small it may be, isn’t there something in the world that they liked or looked forward to? If they die, they’d never get to experience ever again.

Joyce never saw Kimberly enter elementary school, make friends, or even see the drawing of her that he was praised for. She may be around him in spirit, but that did not matter: she would never be able to hold her granddaughter, talk to her parents, or share any experience with Kimberly. Nancy would never truly be able to be a part of Samuela’s life anymore. If she was with them in spirit, all she could do is watch Samuela take her first steps, speak her first words, and make her first friends with out Nancy. She would grow up, become educated, get a job, and make a family. Nancy’s spirit would only be able to watch. Joyce and Nancy were the audience watching a show called the real world without being able to intervene.

No one knows what lies in the future: it might be bad or it could be something good. No one will ever know until the time comes. One cannot tell what they will experience unless they continue to live. No one can smile or cry unless they are alive to do it.

There were times in his life where Kimberly wondered if he was not worthy enough. Things might have gotten better for them after Lee’s death, yet Joyce chose death. Was Kimberly not enough? Was he not worth living for? Was he, somehow, less valuable than his father?

What could I have done to keep [you] “here”?
What do I have to do to keep [you] “here”?

---

The screen noise makes it near impossible to see what was happening. There was a raven-haired boy standing along in a familiar town. Technically, he was not alone: there were bodies everywhere around him, but that which made them individuals had left this world to “a better place”. So the boy was alone. He had been left behind, yet again. An overwhelming sense of loneliness and hopelessness drowns him alive. He hides his teary eyes with red hands and wails in agony.

No one hears him, for he is alone.

There was no way the world could be this cruel.

---

Kimberly lacked the ability to vocalize the perfect words in the crucial moment. If it was true that most human communication was nonverbal; that actions speak louder than words… Would she have chosen life over death if Kimberly had just hugged her when she thought she was crying alone instead of assuming that she wanted to be alone?
Would Royce?
Would Magdalena?

It was difficult for Kimberly to describe what went over him at that moment. The bear managed to grab ahold of Royce and threw him into the air. What caught the young man, when he returned to earth, was a large flame that ignited from the bear’s back. Common sense would have said that the intensity of the fire should have burned anyone close to it into a crisp. This was, true, to some degree: none of the smaller xenomorphs stupid enough to jump towards the flames lived to tell the tale. Royce, however, survived. The flames, that burned everything around it, enveloped the man in a warm embrace. To Royce, he was not lying on top of a burning bear; he was resting on a warm blanket made out of fur. This might not have been the appropriate way to use Magdalena’s fire spirits or the best way to comfort someone. It was debatable if Royce understood what Kimberly want to desperately “say” to him, but this was the closest thing to a “hug” that the giant bear could do in the middle of the battle field. He could only hope that passionate fire that burned brightly was enough to tell how much Kimberly wished him to live on; for every one of them, to stay alive.

There is only one way to ensure their survival at this moment, Kimberly Faye. Destroy all obstacles. Do not give Royce Guyvers, or any of your comrades, the chance of death.
With Royce on his back, Kimberly was somewhat restricted in his movements. It did not help that he could feel the affects of every damage Magdalena received either, but he did his best to focus on the enemy in front of him. Blob Prime Alpha had regenerated its tongue and angrily lashed it at Kimberly for how its predecessor was treated. Luckily, the tongue did not hurt as much as last time thanks to Royce’s vine armor, which Kimberly was thankful that his impulsive “hug” did not burn away.

As soon as there was an opening, the bear quickly pushed the Blob leader (Alpha) down with a head butt and forcibly opened the creature’s mouth as wide as he could. Targeting what Kimberly hoped was the xenomorph’s weakness, the giant bear charged up his lava breath and discharged as much lava as he could upon exhalation, directly into the Blob Prime’s eye.