Fuma's masked expression becomes more and more cryptic, completely unknowable. His presence has a transcendence about it, so much so that he could be completely ignored if it weren't for his otherworldly appearance. Despite his almost offensive orange hair, there is a face among the limited crowd that catches Maya's eye more than Fuma. A young female stands behind Fuma a bit, watching evenly. Her skin is that of charcoal ash, the whites of her eyes are inky, surrounding the pale electric blue irises that house her pupils. The murkiness of her skin is only interrupted by what appears to be fluorescent lines, pulsing blue circuitry, almost.

Fuma shifts uncomfortably.

"That's quite a specifically vague* mission you have. I find it hard to believe you're alone."
He glances at Calvin who nods and regroups his crew, headed for the cold night to find her presumed counterpart.

"At any rate, I did bring you here, and I will cooperate with you. I only have one condition..."
Fuma's mask assumes a grave imitation of countenance and he tilts his head down to emulate a glare.

"If you harm any of my fighters, I will not hesitate to kill you before your little boyfriend has even a fighting chance."

He regains a goofy, lighthearted grin. How he is aware of the lurking pirate time traveler is yet to be revealed.

"But I doubt you will make me do that, right? I SOOOO despise killing people. Or aliens, or whatever you are. First things first, lets get you some warm clothing and food! Then we can talk about some interviews."

He pushes back his hair and grins again, happy to have made her acquaintance. Something about this boy's threatening and juvenile presence is contrarily trustworthy. It's as if one would prefer to feel glad he is on their side, as opposed to suspicious. His intentions are clear, and his values, even more so. Fuma grins at Rai, the ash skinned girl, who nods and steps over to Maya.

"Let's get you settled then okay? I'm Rai. Don't worry about Fuma's RUDENESS," she glares back at him and continues, "he's just... a bit on edge lately. Come on."

Enough chit chat, Maya thought to herself as she stood impatiently with arms akimbo. She drummed her fingers against her hips in rhythmic irritation. Perhaps she never learned the virtue of patience during her years as a royal official, or maybe Marcus’s personality was rubbing off on her. Either way, she was growing increasingly weary of the shadow-cloaked planet and its eerie post-apocalyptic vibe. She wished to leave as soon as possible, and the masked tangerine was not going to get in her way. Bored and exasperated, her thoughts drifted away from the boy crowned with a mop of bright orange hair to those around them in the hangar. She reached out with her consciousness and rifled through the minds in the small crowd, hoping to pick up on deviations in cognitive function that alluded to the presence of a “higher being.” Like shadows stretching across a room as the last hours of daylight filter through a window, her thoughts seeped across the nonphysical plane of reality. She could not read or infiltrate minds like more ominous fiends she had encountered in the past, but she was more or less able to sense general auras. The tendrils of her mind tingled with delight as they encountered an electrifying wealth of untapped mental power. Bingo.

Sharply looking away from Fuma, her pupils, embedded within a shimmering pool of aquamarine, narrowed as they spotted a female standing behind the masked leader. Maya’s full lips curved slightly in relieved satisfaction. That had to be the Archoness she was searching for; she could feel it in her gut. The female was strikingly alien in her appearance, but she was undeniably beautiful. Her smooth skin was akin to obsidian, and it was etched with delicate veins of lapis lazuli. While it was hard for Maya to see it under the harsh white lights of the hangar, the woman’s markings softly glowed like a bioluminescent jellyfish in the pitch black waters of the deep.

As Fuma began to speak again, Maya shifted her attention back to the masked punk. She listened, but only half-heartedly.

“Specifically vague? Sort of ironic considering you’re the one wearing a mask. Transparency is overrated anyway; it leaves no room for the imagination. Furthermore, I never said I was alone, but you never explicitly asked. It would be foolish to embark on a mission unassisted, wouldn’t you agree? Especially for a poor, defenseless girl like myself.”

Snide remarks won’t get you anywhere. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Andromeda advised.

What would I want with a bunch of nasty flies? Maya dryly thought.

Arching an eyebrow, Maya watched as the scouts that brought her to the hangar regrouped and exited into the night once again.

"At any rate, I did bring you here, and I will cooperate with you. I only have one condition," Fuma remarked gravely, "If you harm any of my fighters, I will not hesitate to kill you before your little boyfriend has even a fighting chance."

Maya struggled to compose herself as laughter threatened to bubble from within her chest. An amused snort was the only thing that managed to escape. She rolled her eyes so hard that she was surprised they didn’t go spinning out of her skull onto the floor. The little orange troll’s threats were cute. A part of her just wanted to pinch his cheeks and tousle his hair. She admired how much he cared for his men – a mark of good leader –but if she wanted them dead, they’d be drowning in their own juices already. It’s kind of hard to shoot straight when your lungs are filled with water or when the intraocular fluid is ripped from your eyes. And Paul, well, he could pause time and slit everyone’s throats.

“Understood. I don’t bite unless prodded,” Maya quipped with a flirty wink, “And I too despise killing, so at least we have that in common. I’ll pass on the clothes, but I would appreciate something warm to drink. Thank you for your hospitality. I won’t be a nuisance for very long.”

The suspected Archoness with unnaturally dark skin stepped towards Maya, introducing herself as Rai. Maya smiled knowingly, eager to get to know the woman. If she truly was who Maya thought she was, Rai was destined to do great things –to save nations and vanquish evil. The charcoal goddess would acquire unfathomable powers and develop extraordinary skills. At the same time, sadness filled the pit of Maya’s stomach. The perks of Archonhood were often outweighed by the inevitable pain, loss, and heartache. The Water Archon’s soul mourned as flickering memories of dead loved ones stung like salt against a fresh oozing wound.

Not wanting to get ahead of herself, Maya decided to observe Rai a little bit longer before popping the “Are your parents dead?” question. While she was almost 100% certain she had found the Archon, Maya didn’t want to have to shove her foot in her mouth as she had done countless times before. Furthermore, Marcus would kill her if she jumped the gun and jeopardized the mission in any way.

“Thank you, Rai,” Maya replied as she followed Rai, “Forgive my ignorance,but what exactly is this place? It looks like some sort of military outpost. Is there a war going on?”

Rai walks with Maya through the steely halls, and toward a rather beat up looking kitchen. She observes the strange visitor with slightly widened eyes, and listens to her cool voice very closely.

Her hair... it's white as ash... and her face is so angled. She looks strong and regal. Pure.

Despite Maya's dark clothing, she stands out quite prominently compared to the dank and rather serious atmosphere of the base. Everything seemed to take on a blackened tint, like the perpetual film of soot often found in a smithy. Sometimes Rai feels as though she is becoming soot. A mere shadow of existence, let alone a beautiful girl like Maya.

"No worries... There is indeed a war. It's a bit complicated, as most wars are. You see, we are a rebel faction. We are the children of shadows, those who died in the womb and were born between dimensions. Somehow we were taken advantage of, and forced to fight in a war as soldiers against our will. The reason for this is because we are beings who don't technically exist in the world of which we were forced to fight in, so letting us run suicide missions wasn't a problem. You can't lose assets you never had to begin with... Well, Fuma refused to let it continue. We rose up under his command, but not all of us. This base... it's the remains of his resistance against the forces that enslaved us. You could say there are two wars, in that respect. The one between the petty governments within the dimension, and the one between the culprit forces and Fuma."

As Rai speaks she goes about making a smoky looking drink that smells like a camp fire. It steams like tea and warms Maya as soon as she picks up the mug.

"Here you go. This is my personal favorite, calms the nerves and eases the mind."

Despite the heavy topic and obviously hard memories, Rai flashes a bright smile at Maya.

Probably not the best approach you could've taken...

Any ideas for plan B?

A few, for one, stop swinging that blade around, its needlessly hostile, two, try to unnerve them, delve into their thoughts and glean information.

Got it

Marcus twirled Raiden in his hand before sliding it back into the sheath on his back, then lashed out with his mind, attempting to gleam details from the surrounding people. He couldn't quite understand the words of their thoughts, as his grasp on their language was minimal, so he plunged deeper, expecting to be able to understand their impressions and emotions. The cascading, chaotic flood of unintelligible feeling suggested otherwise.

He returned to reality, his mind's spectre battered senseless from the raw torrent, utterly baffled.

What's the hold up? Finding details should be easy

I.... don't understand

That's a first, coming from you,

I took the plunge, and couldn't make sense any of it, what's going on?

What could be interpreted as a heavy sigh erupted from Arcturus.

That's a topic for another time, when we're not pressed. I discovered their names while you were lost, the female we need is Enoch, the boy is Aarav, and the elder is Pandu.

Thanks

As much as he hated to admit it, Arcturus was right. He had been able to glean earlier details through just scraping the surface, figuring out why he wasn't able to understand the emotions of a human being was a matter for pondering over later.

Now came the trouble of articulating recently learned words into a cohesive statement.

"Stay your hand Pandu, I bore my blade not in hostility, but in acknowledging one's kin, the blood of a god flows through Enoch's veins, and it has been calling for her ever since she walked this earth, the time has come for her to answer."

He wanted to collapse right there, it was mentally exhausting having to delve in and translate every word you make, while attempting to avoid the hurricane of feeling

The boy, Aarav, looked like he might be a problem, while Marcus technically didn't lie with his statement, it went against what he had said earlier, and he was sure that the guy would try to jump on that fact.

You were like him once

Irrelevant, that was nearly a thousand years ago

So you say

Leaning up against a countertop, Maya ruminated over what Rai conveyed as she solemnly steeped in the heavy words. They weighed upon her heart like thick, suffocating fog. Children of shadows? Suicide missions? Maya exhaled, causing her poised shoulders to droop, and stared at the linoleum tiles beneath her feet. No wonder she had such a visceral yearning to get off of the planet; it was a dark place –darker than she could have ever imagined –tainted by unfathomable injustices.

There’s so much evil and so much pain in the multiverse, Maya mused in dry disdain,I fear that I…we…won’t be able to overcome it. After all, things did not end favorably last time. Enemies seem to be as abundant as the stars, yet we only have so much blood to spare before we are forced to resign to the abyss.

Maya, please. Brooding is not going to win a war against evil. Andromeda wearily remarked. The ancient spirit was not one to feed into Maya’s melodramatic ramblings. If anything, Andromeda was one of a select few capable of cutting through Maya’s stubbornness and pride which so often warped her perception. As much as the Water Archon hated to admit it, the wise spirit seemed to know Maya better than she knew herself at times.

Maya gratefully accepted the steaming mug from Rai as she broke away from her introspective thoughts. She returned Rai’s smile with a kindhearted grin of her own. The mug’s radiating heat seeped through the ceramic, warming up Maya’s palms and delicate fingertips. She cradled the cup close to her face, letting the steam brush against her skin as it dissipated into the atmosphere. The drink smelled robust and earthy, like ash or burning wood.

“Thank you,” Maya said before taking a sip. The warmth was delightful as it washed over her tongue and trickled down her throat, but the drink was bitterer than she had expected. When Rai was not looking, she quickly plucked a nearby sugar cube from a small bowl and plopped it into the smoky liquid. With the use of her handy-dandy Archon powers, she swirled the water, causing the cube to dance around before dissolving like a tablet upon a tongue.

“I am truly sorry to hear about the ongoing conflict. War, while necessary at times, is never pleasant to say the least. Peace and justice comes at a price. Unfortunately, it is usually the innocent who end up paying the most. I can’t imagine what you all have been through; however, I am not a stranger to death, pain, and violence.”

Maya paused and took another sip of tea, wishing now that it was something stronger -something that could numb her emotions and blur the pesky memories. After all, it had only been a few days (hours even?) since she watched everything go to hell on the Leviathan as her fellow Archons were mercilessly slaughtered. Maya’s aquamarine eyes grew distant and gray. Her initial urge to get back to the Leviathan suddenly became less pressing.

In a forced chipper voice, she continued, “Fuma seems like a remarkable leader, though. Rather young, but based off of what I’ve seen and what you have said, he must be very courageous and ambitious. He’s got a fire in his eyes that alludes to a fighting spirit.”

Maya finished the last few drops of her drink before setting the mug down. She raised her piercing eyes so that they met Rai’s equally mesmerizing ones. While her demeanor was serious, Maya’s facial expression hinted at an overwhelming hunger fueled by curiosity.

“What’s your story, Rai? Please don’t think me rude, but you appear to be quite different from the others. As I was telling Fuma earlier, I am here on this planet in search of someone very special –someone who doesn’t fit in. As ridiculous as it may sound, I have good reason to believe that this person is, well, you.”

Rai's quick but controlled motions as she works in the kitchen allude to the many hours she has spent there. Many of her cohorts experience the same effects of the dankness that the planet brings. This ends up bringing the troubled and heavy souls to the kitchen, seeking some sort of distraction and a laugh. Rai herself understood this, so when she wasn't working, she found herself there. Some nights it was to ease her own discontentment and uneasiness at the evil dwelling within this dimension, others it was to give strength to her comrades. In some ways, it was a selfish tear at survival. When pressed to the surface of this planet comprised by sharp fragments of a scorched past, you can't rely on someone who has failed to thrive. They can't save you, no one will. On the other side of the situation, her actions are completely altruistic. When Rai could be sleeping, she is instead giving even more of her time to the fighters.

A slight smile graces Rai's countenance.

Looks like she really appreciated the drink... That harsh edge of hers finally calmed down.

As Maya speaks, Rai listens to the repressed pain and shock that the strangely beautiful, white haired woman was hiding. Rai's gaze continues to soften, as Maya then reveals her curiosities. And mere curiosities they seemed, from a troubled and cold traveler. Rai's other worldly appearance and mixed air make her into a bit of an enigma, but in these moments, her ringing perception and intelligence dominate her presence.

"Thank you for seeing passed Fuma, and for your compassion in regard to the situation we're all in. However, I do not think I've presented you with a reason to save face the way you are. If you're in some sort of trouble, you shouldn't feel compelled to handle it all on your own," Rai turns to Maya and looks nearly apologetic. Not pity, but something called empathy.

After a few moments she responds to Maya's initial question. She looks down at her tinted hands and odd markings.

"I'm rather easy to spot, aren't I. My story though? Funny you should ask. It's... nearly the same as Fuma's. My parents were murdered, but I don't remember it. I ended up here because as a child, I was blamed for their deaths. My appearance didn't help, "demon" and "witch" became common insults hurled my way. Without an advocate for my innocence in the world, I decided to leave. I feel like I'm meant for something good, despite my strange disposition. When I heard of Fuma's story and his rebellion, I wanted to join immediately. Before I could, he showed up at my sector himself. I've been here ever since then. Even though it's been a few years, he's been my only friend."

As Rai recalls these events, it seems as though it may be the first time she's walked through them with someone else. Her countenance becomes introspective, as she double checks the order of which these things happened.

"But... why are you looking for someone like that?"

Enoch visibly bristled at the man's next words, and she pretended not to see the half a dozen sets of eyes that flickered to her. Why did she suddenly feel so very self-conscious? It could be the fact that this stranger, who fell from the sky in a dragon's skull and lived, had just announced that she had the blood of a God in her veins.

“That's not possible.” Enoch said, though her voice wasn't near as strong as she'd hoped it would be. “My mother was a member of the tribe, and my father was a a traveler.”

“And what kin do you speak of? You can't mean whatever God you claim relates to her, you said you weren't one.” Aarav predictably pointed out.

Pandu looked from Enoch to Aarav, then to the stranger, clearly uncertain. Little had been known about Enoch's sire, only that he showed up and drew himself to Leili, and left shortly after he'd impregnated the woman. He'd always found the entire situation odd. And it was not uncommon for the Gods to descend and shift the fates of the mortals. He looked back to Enoch, who was staring back at him as if waiting for him to stand up for her. When Pandu kept quiet, Enoch flushed red and crouched, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Aarav seemed to grow red, as well, as he glanced back to the withdrawing Enoch, then rounded to face the stranger. “She's not some God's bastard! She's one of us. You have the wrong information. She's no diff—“

“Aarav.” Enoch rose to stand again, cutting off her companion. He turned around, looking cross. “Shut up.”
Looking crosser, still, and now shocked, Aarav gaped as Enoch turned around, walked up the dune, crossed over the peek, and kept walking, heading back for the village.
“Wha-” Aarav gaped. “Enoch!” Mithi turned and followed Enoch, jogging to catch up to her. Aarav turned back around to glare at the stranger with the dragon head.

With a piercing gaze, Maya leaned forward while listening intently to Rai’s account, and like she expected, the details of the suspected Archon’s life matched up perfectly with the cookie-cutter tragedy that was so familiar to Archons. Murdered parents? Check. Doesn’t quite fit in? Check. Innate desire to achieve more? Check. Ding, ding, ding! Looks like we’ve got a winner. Sighing with relief, Maya straightened her posture and cleared her throat.

“Rai, you are without a doubt the person I am looking for, and I’m looking for you because the universe needs you,” Maya announced in earnest, “Before, you mentioned that I shouldn’t feel compelled to handle my troubles on my own. Well, I’m not alone. There are others like me –like us– fighting side by side all for the same cause. There is a great evil out there, and this evil is the same malicious being that killed your parents. We’re battling with all that we’ve got to extinguish this embodiment of death and terror in order to restore peace to the galaxies.”

Maya chuckled to herself while rubbing the bridge or her nose. She had forgotten how ridiculous this all sounded. Looking back to Rai, she continued, “What I am about to say is going to sound crazy, but please just hear me out. You are one of a select few descendants of a unique group of individuals called Archons. Many millennia ago, the Archons guarded over the universe as they preserved the natural order of things. One of your deceased parents was among these great and mighty beings, godlike in power and strength. Your genetic information is imbued with the same traits that belonged to your Archon relative, thus giving you the same remarkable capabilities.”

She exhaled sharply, struggling to convey the magnitude and complexity of the situation. “Uhh, well. It’s easier to show than tell. See this mark here on my palm?” Maya inquired as she flexed her right hand towards Rai, revealing an ancient rune etched seamlessly into her skin. It glowed aquamarine against her tan flesh. “This strange marking indicates that I am an Archon. More specifically, it identifies me as Archonis Aquarius, the Archon of Water.”

She raised both her index fingers to Rai, motioning her to wait, before stepping towards the kitchen sink. Maya turned the faucet on, unleashing a gushing torrent. Maya flashed an excited grin before gently sweeping her hand through the air. A stream of water rose effortlessly out of the sink and floated elegantly into the air, following the path of Maya’s hand. Like a music conductor directing an orchestra, the Water Archon guided the flowing ribbon of clear liquid around the room. After snaking it around Rai’s head, she deposited it back into the sink where it sloshed down the drain.

“It may not seem all that impressive, but give me an entire ocean or even the water in your veins, and I can raise hell,” Maya shrugged, “Now, considering your background information seems sparse, I can’t quite ascertain what your powers will be until they are activated. They are all elemental based, such as earth, fire, and water, but that’s not important right now. In order to unlock your capabilities, you first have to acquire your Archon weapon. In doing so, not only will your powers begin to steadily take effect, but you too will receive a mark on your hand which will signify your element.”

Maya paused and rubbed the back of her neck. She hesitantly proceeded to ask, “Does any of this make sense?”

Moment of truth…Hopefully she’s not going to try to have that Fuma kid put me in a straitjacket.

Rai finds herself sitting in a chair, her mind racing to process this barrage of information. Frankly, it doesn't seem all that far-fetched. After all, she just unloaded her own legend of warring dimensions on Maya and expected her to understand immediately. Foreign and supernatural situations aren't all that uncommon in this particular world line.

"That... was amazing, Maya. However, I don't think I can just abandon Fuma and galavant across the universe fighting evil... As romantic as that sounds, this is war. We aren't just fighting like spoiled children, the loss of this place could bring the collapse of the very universe you're fighting to save-... that can't be a coincidence."

Rai covers her eyes and sighs, sensing she's saying too much. She couldn't possibly leave this place but... isn't that what she always thought she needed to do? To acquire a greater purpose?

"I-I'm sorry... let me talk to Fuma about this. I need to see him."

Why is she alone? Why me? What sort of power could possibly manifest in me? Is that why Fuma is so powerful? But Maya... She doesn't seem to like him so he surely isn't involved...

She gets up from her seat and starts cleaning the kitchen again, but barely makes it through washing a single cup before passing out in the floor.

Sucking air through her teeth, Maya swooped in to catch the frazzled girl before her skull could abruptly meet the cold, hard ground. The tea cup that Rai had been washing clattered to the floor. “Easy there, kiddo,” Maya whispered to Rai as she effortlessly hoisted the unconscious girl into her arms as if she weighed no more than a feather. Poor thing.

Need somewhere to dump the body? Andromeda joked dryly.

That went splendidly, Maya groaned as she gently lowered Rai onto a nearby cot, Rather delicate for someone who is purportedly fighting some great war, eh? If only I knew where her weapon was…I would just go ahead and open a rift to the Leviathan and toss her through.

You appear to be forgetting the concept of free will as well as the moral ambiguity of alien abduction, noted the ever-present voice in her head.

Minor details, Maya scoffed as she found a washcloth and ran it under the sink’s faucet,One thing is for sure –she’s a ferociously loyal creature. Unfortunately, her undying fealty to the tangerine is proving rather problematic.

Maya pressed the cool, damp cloth onto Rai’s onyx forehead. She wasn’t really sure what she hoped that it would do, but it seemed appropriate…and instinctively maternal. Despite her growing impatience, Maya couldn’t help but to feel sympathetic and responsible for the newly discovered Archon. She sighed while brushing away a stray lock of Rai’s jet black hair.

“I suppose I need to go have a talk with Fuma. Also, where the hell is Paul? I thought Fuma’s cronies were rounding him up,” Maya grumbled to herself as she exited the kitchen.

Maya exits the kitchen to a bit of commotion. According to the orders being barked out, another strange visitor has been brought into the base. The man fits Paul's description.

"Find Rai, we need second in command here. Fuma is out of commission for the moment, and we've got another intruder."
Calvin's irritated voice grinds out these observations and annoyances to the deck officers, fully expecting their intuition to take care of things.

Meanwhile, Rai slowly blinks awake to find the kitchen empty, and frantic sounds coming from the nearby hangar. She shakes her head and takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling very embarrassed for her dramatic reaction. The source of her shock painfully oozes back into her foggy mind and she pushes her choppy black hair away from her eyes. She hardly has a moment to regain her composure before a page discovers her and unloads the annoying amount of work yet to be done.

As Maya follows the general hub of commotion, she spots the glint of Fuma's electric orange hair peeking out from a cracked door near the armory. What was he doing in there? Why is he... on the floor? Kids these days, amirite. She feels obliged to be concerned, but something about his attitude makes that hard. Either way, he's the one who can get Paul out of the hands of his so called cronies, peacefully.

Seeing that Rai was more or less indisposed for the time being, Maya meandered out into the bustling hangar with the hope of catching a quick word with Fuma; however, snippets of tense conversation as well as a myriad of concerned dispositions alluded to the absence of the fiery leader. That’s just swell, Maya thought as she disdainfully leaned against a wall with her arms crossed across her chest. Grim notions crossed her mind as she fretted that perhaps she would be unable to convince Rai to join the Archons, especially without Fuma’s approval. In a peaceful universe void of malicious beings, that would be a perfectly fine option (preferable, even), but unfortunately, the Archons faced a darker reality. If Maya didn’t get through to Rai with reason and persuasion, someone else would –but in a more join-us-and-we-kill-everyone-you-know sort of way.

Maya’s worries momentarily dissipated upon noticing a handsome rapscallion surrounded by several armed officers. Fuma’s men had apparently retrieved Paul, the “second intruder.” While she would never admit it, she was relieved to see him. With a smile tugging at her lips, she winked at him from afar, enjoying the sight of him in handcuffs.

A shock of bright orange hair diverted Maya’s gaze away from Paul. Like a sleuth, she slinked across the back wall of the hangar towards a room labeled as the armory. She peeked over her shoulder before quickly slipping inside, hoping not to spark any alarm. After all, most would not appreciate a captured intruder waltzing through their weapons store. Upon entering, Maya was faced by an odd spectacle. Fuma was sprawled across the floor, unmoving. Maya hoped that the young leader simply had an odd choice in napping spots.

Clearing her throat, Maya hesitantly called out, “Fuma…? You alright there?”

No response. She prodded his side with her foot. Still no response.

She dropped to a crouch beside him and pressed two fingers against his jugular. Raspy, shallow breaths and a rapid heartbeat attested that he was in fact alive. To her relief, she wouldn’t have to do any mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Why was he unconsciousness and unresponsive, though? Dread clawed at the pits of her stomach. While she hardly knew the sassy kid, she wanted to help him and make sure everything was alright –even if she had her own interests in mind. His flesh radiated heat as if molten lava was pulsing through his veins. Puzzled, Maya did a quick mental sweep of his neurological function to check that his noggin was A-okay. Maya inhaled sharply; her eyes grew wide. If there were any charts, his results would be off of them. A hurricane of surging power and chaos churned within the confines of Fuma’s skull, threatening to spill forth in a blazing aura.

Maya uttered violent curses under her breath and grabbed his right arm, jerking it towards her. Upon flipping his hand over, she identified a glowing rune (which had not been there previously) on his palm.

“Fire Archon,” she scoffed as she sat down next to him. It was all clear now to Maya. Fuma was in a comatose state brought about by the Activation, an event when an Archon initiates their powers by making contact with their ancestral weapon. Due to the sudden influx of power pouring into their psyche, new Archons are rendered unconscious and forced into a coma wherein their mind and body undergo physiological changes. While the experience is unique for each person, it is during this period that an Archon meets their spirit guide (Andromeda, in Maya’s case). Furthermore, the conversion can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks.

“How could I have possibly missed you?” the Water Archon pouted, “Your hair should’ve been a clue from the start…But I was so sure that Rai was the one. She met all of the criteria.” Maya fidgeted. She hated being wrong.

You’re ignoring the obvious. Rai still matches the characteristics. Andromeda pointed out.

“So, two Archons? Hmm,” Maya pondered in amusement. That made her expedition twice as productive –“two birds with one stone” as the humans put it.

First things first. Maya needed to locate Fuma’s weapon and secure it until he woke up again. However, seeing that they were in an armory, this task was marginally more tedious than usual. Groaning, Maya hopped up from the floor and began to scan the room. Literally hundreds of weapons lined the walls and filled countless shelves and racks.

Okay, which of these things is not like the other… she thought as she eyed various guns, swords, and other deadly paraphernalia. The weapon, no matter what type, would exhibit unparalleled craftsmanship and bear unique runes. A black blade poked out from beneath a storage shelf. Dropping to her knees, Maya pulled it out to examine it. Glowing glyphs adorned it, thus signifying Archonian origin. It illuminated ever-so-slightly at her touch from as if halfheartedly greeting the Water Archon while knowing full well that she wasn’t its owner.
“Ah, don’t worry. He’ll be awake in a few days. In the meantime, I need to hide you away until we can get back on the Leviathan,” Maya spoke to the sword. In the corner of the armory was a conveniently placed ficus tree. Maya tucked the blade behind its leafy branches, propping it up against the wall. Perfect.

Next order of business entailed talking to Rai again and finding her weapon. Then, at one point or another, Maya would have to negotiate Paul’s release.

“Err, just stay here,” Maya instructed the slumbering Fire Archon as she went to exit the armory. He responded with a soft snore.

People skills, Marcus Arcturus chided

You lack them

Gee, thanks for the sitrep Captain Obvious.

As you were, Sergeant Sarcasm

Goddammit

She ran off, after an altercation with the irritatingly smart boy. Leaving him and the locals at an awkward standstill. Neither party really wanted to speak to each other.

Marcus finally broke the silence with an exsasperated sigh, finally come up with something to do, to the villagers watching him, he suddenly vanished.

To Enoch and her companion, he appeared in an instant, about twenty feet in front of them.

Exhaustion hit him like a truck, his stomach suddenly felt empty and rumbled in complaint, and he was fairly certain something was bleeding inside him.

"I believe we got off on the wrong foot" he said as calmly as possible.

"I'm in a position right now where I can't be very subtle, time is running out, and I need you"

He unsheathed his blade again, this time plunging it into the sand.

"I would at the very least, like to give you the illusion of choice, I can spare you seven days, afterwards if you don't come to me, I'll have to come for you. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but that's just how it is"

Better, but still rough around the edges

Paul shot up, as if he had been awoken from a dream. He pulled in as much air into his lungs as he possibly could, and began to briefly hyperventilate.
What the hell happened? One second I was trying to track Maya and now I'm here?
Paul couldn't see much. His eyes were still adjusting, as if they hadn't been in use for a very long time. He was also having difficulty moving, it appeared that he had been strapped to a chair with metal clasps holding on to his arms and legs.
It would appear that you've gone through another 'time lapse,' dear Paul.
You say that every time this happens, but I still don't know what that means. Care to finally explain?
You have a tendency to overexert yourself. I believe you attempted to use some of your powers (after releasing yourself from quite a bumpy ride in a drop pod) to track Maya's location and instead you have brought your soul here. I won't go into the details of your soul being split and existing in multiple dimensional spaces as that is a complicated business that someone like you would not be able to understand.
Alright smartass, so what was I doing the whole time?
Truthfully I don't know, but I imagine whatever you were doing it was probably idiotic.
Paul shook his head in annoyance. Thankfully his fashionable attire had been preserved, but his weapon has been confiscated. Had he not been so groggy, Paul probably could've recovered his blade as all Archons are said to be able to do. Unfortunately, he felt like he had been bulldozed, so that wasn't an option. Instead he simply shook his arms and legs around trying to get his restraints off, so that perhaps he could find a way out of this dirty, grungy, dimly lit room.

Rai's clicking footsteps advance toward the armory where Maya was reported to have been seen last. Her head was still spinning from her loss of consciousness, something that she hasn't experienced very often in the past. She needed to gain control of this situation quickly. There are two purported intruders in the base, Calvin insists that something is wrong with Fuma, and now one of the prisoners is wandering about the armory. Somehow, Rai didn't feel that Maya was a threat, but the lack of control and preparedness that the situation presents is just embarrassing.

What if something puts Fuma out of commission for good? She isn't ready to lead this effort, and Calvin refuses to assume a position of authority. He was a good leader, and almost like a weird uncle to her, but he denies responsibility. She speculates that perhaps his life leading up to the rebellion had hidden gems within but she refrained from asking him about this. Something in Calvin's hazy, jet black eyes gave her an uneasy feeling about his possible reaction. Either way, she pushes her worries aside and enters the armory to find Maya missing, and Fuma in the floor. He's sweating, and his mask is completely blank.

"H-hey, Fuma what happened- are you hurt?" she stutters a little, having only ever seen him sprawled and vulnerable select few times. She wasn't interested in him, after all, he always talks about that Selah girl. She's totally uninterested. What makes you think she likes him, back off! Gosh, he's her superior okay? That is unacceptable for the work place, this is so not the time to be spreading rumors he could be DEAD.

She shakes her head and kneels to check if he's unconscious or just lethargic, but gets no response. That woman perhaps? Did Maya do this? If so, how? Has he been poisoned? And what is this strange mark on his hand? He's clearly alive and he doesn't seem to be in danger of dying, but he's useless in this catatonic state. Should she move him? She tries to pull him up by one arm around her shoulders but fails, trying again by propping up his shoulders. This endeavor ends up spilling her into the floor as well and she sits up in a huff, straightening her collar.

Never mind then I'll just leave him in the floor..

Rai gets up, hoping no one will ever find out about that, and exits the armory as well. She shuts the door to ensure no one tampers with him or finds out he really is quite indisposed. What now? Perhaps Selah can help? She's never met her but maybe she will know what he would do?

No... She wrinkles her nose at the idea and selfishly decides to figure it out alone.

Where is that Maya woman, she will explain herself immediately.

Rai marches down the hall and follows Maya to the lockdown where Paul is chained, the newest prisoner.

"You... You're involved with this intruder, and you've done something to our leader. I can't believe I trusted you this long..." Rai draws her pistol and trains it on Maya reluctantly.

"Put your hands on your head. What have you done to Fuma?"

---------------------------- ( O _ 0 ) /) ------------------------

Fuma sits up, grimacing. He looks around with a delayed reaction, feeling strange.

A dream....? I'm unconscious but... lucid? This is what my mind looks like..

"Cooooolllllll.... So I can do whatever I want here I guess. But how'd I get here? Whatever it was that I took, I want moooorrreeee- ....oh wow.." Fuma reaches up to his head as pain sets in with a sharply, with a dull throb underneath. It's not as cool now.

This is not good... ouch. I need to wake up...

As Fuma's mental stability wanes, the landscape of his mind morphs and grinds into a world of lava and fire. Many suns sit upon the horizon, scorching the remainder of the ground as it cracks and splits. He looks around frantically and grimaces at the sight, even if he is somewhat in awe. A form descends from the suns and steps to him, with flowing hair and robes. It impairs his mind and churns his sense of reason... The being is Selah.

“Dammit!” Maya groaned while waving a hand incredulously, “Where’d they take Paul? He was literally just out here in the hangar.”

Slightly panicky, Maya wandered around the hangar, ducking behind beaten-up tanks and battle-scarred aircraft, in attempt to spot the missing Time Archon. While scanning the area, she noted that Fuma’s personnel seemed disgruntled but not in a state of alarm. Paul, however, was still nowhere to be seen. Upon hearing the solid thuds of approaching footsteps and rustling weapons, Maya quickly rolled underneath a vehicle as a trio of men came towards her position. She held her breath and hoped they would not hear her pounding heartbeat. As they passed, she caught pieces of their conversation which included statements such as “the noncompliant has been taken to lockup” and “that son of a bitch stabbed me.”

Idiot. I’ve worked so hard to soothe things over with Rai and Fuma. He really needs to work on his diplomatic relations. Well, at least I know where he is now.

Better hurry. I’m afraid that the effects of the time warp are really beginning to take their toll on him. A man can only go off of adrenaline for so long before crashing.

Ugh, the fool should have stayed in the sick bay.

Maya crawled out from her hiding place and dusted off her clothes as she stood up. A conveniently placed directory indicated that the lockup, as well as the lavatories and gym, were located down a nearby hallway. After carefully navigating the halls, she finally rounded a corner to find a door guarded by two armed soldiers. Assuming there weren’t any other captives being held at the moment, Paul was more than likely the one on the other side of the barred door. Maya ducked back behind the corner before the men spotted her.

She did not want to mortally hurt the men nor did she want to draw a lot of attention. She decided that she needed to separate the men. Closing her eyes, Maya channeled her thoughts and energy on one of them. She could feel every molecule of water resonating within his body. The vital element filled every cell which comprised his corporeal existence. A five percent decrease in the body’s hydration can cause dizziness and fatigue. A ten percent decrease can cause mental and physical deterioration. A twenty-five percent decrease can cause death. A one hundred percent decrease can cause a big pile of dust to accumulate on the floor. Maya, being in a pretty decent mood, opted for a nicer tactic as she carefully and calculatedly redirected 16 ounces of fluid within the man.

“Dave, I really got to take a leak,” Maya heard one of the men say.

“Really? Can’t you hold it? Our shift ends in thirty minutes,” Dave snapped.

“No, I really have to go,” the man said with urgency. Maya could hear him shifting back and forth uncomfortably. At this time, Maya snuck into the men’s bathroom which she had passed earlier and hid in a stall.

“Fine, whatever. Be quick and don’t let anyone see you,” Dave groaned.

The tortured man hurdled towards the bathroom. Bursting through the door, he beelined for a urinal, quickly unzipped his pants, and soon after sighed with relief. While the man was still preoccupied, Maya sneaked up behind him and placed him in a chokehold. Despite thrashing and clawing, the man was unable to pry away from Maya’s squeezing grasp. For the Archon, it felt effortless. As minutes passed, the man’s face changed from bright red to a deep purple hue as his lungs burned for oxygen. His eyes bulged, and his capillaries burst. Just as he lapsed into unconsciousness, Maya released her hold, allowing the blood to flow back to his brain.
“M’kay, one down. One to go,” she remarked as she stuffed the man into a bathroom stall. Before she exited the bathroom, Maya swiped the jail cell’s key.

The Water Archon stumbled down the hallway towards the guard, faking a worried expression. “Excuse me sir, I am so terribly sorry to bother you,” Maya apologized with a damsel-in-distress tone, “But I am completely and utterly lost, and I was wondering if you…”

“Hey, aren’t you the woman that was captured earlier?” the man barked defensively. His eyebrows, which resembled angry wooly caterpillars, scrunched together as he pinned his skeptical eyes on her.

“Well, you see…” Maya started before slamming the bottom of her palm up into the man’s nose. She could feel the nasal bone crunching as his head slammed back into the door behind him. He slumped to the floor as blood poured out of his nose. Before he could shake off the initial wave of confusion, Maya pressed a foot firmly down on his throat. Choking in his own blood, he desperately tried to shake her off, but Archons are OP. Sucks to suck, buddy.

While maintaining pressure on the guard's jugular, Maya peered through the bars. The room was dim, but she was able to make out Paul strapped to a chair.

“Sweetie,” Maya called through the bars as she unlocked the door, “You doing alright in there? I found the Archon –well, two Archons. As soon as we find the second Archon’s weapon, we can head back to the…”

A familiar voice interrupted, "You... You're involved with this intruder, and you've done something to our leader. I can't believe I trusted you this long..."

Maya groaned and obediently placed her hands on her head like Rai commanded.

“Easy there,” Maya called out calmly, “So, uh, funny story, Rai. Remember everything I was telling you earlier about being an Archon? Well, you and I aren’t the only Archons here. Fuma’s also one! And this sorry chap behind the bars is also an Archon. Now, the reason that Fuma is incapacitated is because he got a hold of his Archon weapon, thus causing him to activate his transition into Archonhood. Basically, his body is undergoing some serious genetic modifications…think of it as like a software update. In a few days he will reboot and be better than ever. With that being said, we all really should get off of this planet. The activation process unleashes an astronomical amount of psychic energy which makes Fuma a glowing beacon for all the baddies out there that want us dead. If you have any more questions, I would be more than ecstatic to answer them, but we need to do so while we search for your own Archon relic. So please, lower your weapon.”

As he paced back and forth in the sterile, white room. The Doppelganger pondered many things while his soon to be victim fidgeted in his surgical chair. Many important things such as What am I doing here? What is my place in this reality? Wasn't I doing something before? What is the nature of existence? before deciding his plaything had stewed about in silence long enough.

"What is your name, rank, and identification number?" He barked suddenly, jerking to face him in an instant. The young man in the chair yelped in surprise, twitching about though his arms and legs were firmly clamped into place. A moment passed as the question processed, before the boy's panicky voice broke the silence.

"S-sir, Kellam, Jordan Kellam, p-p-Private, 225K1893" came his stuttering, shaky reply.

"Do you know why you're in here 93?"

His eyes bulged as his face drained of color, his lips smacking together while he vigorously jerked his head side to side. "N-no sir" he finally managed to spit out.

"Oh? Well now, this might jog your memory" Doppie spat venomously as he snapped his fingers, at once the nigh invisible door popped outwards and slid to the side. A willowy dark haired girl, skin a soft unblemished porcelain, with her hands tied behind her back was roughly pushed to the floor inside, the door slid shut behind her.

In a mocking gesture, The Doppelganger picked her up roughly in his grasp and forced her lips on his as he kissed her in a fashion similar to the end of the rendezvous the camera had picked up of this star crossed couple. As soon as he felt his point came across, he backhanded her across the face and dropped her like a sack of potatoes, leaning in close to her ear as she lay crumpled on the ground.

"Now, you just lay down right here, and you don't dare take your eyes off of his. You understand sweetie" he hissed, before leaving the human detritus on the ground and resuming his pacing. The private squirmed in his seat while his little girlfriend stared without blinking, her eyes wide with fear and something else. She'd been taught her lesson the previous night.

"Do you like history? Mr. Kellam?" Doppie asked, still pacing, he slowly began to drag a cart of various tools behind him, out of the little thief's field of vision.

"I-I do sir" came the boy's reply, his eyes not daring to leave the girl's.

"Oh you do do you? Its always a pleasure to meet a fellow history buff, say, have you ever heard of a neat set of punishments called the Hudud?" Number 93 shook his head as well as he could, prompting his captor to go on. "Well I wouldn't expect you too, they were derived from the laws of a long dead culture, its fascinating how they could be so culturally advanced for their time and still manage to be a raving bunch of savages" he chuckled lightly as he brandished, of all things, a meat cleaver from the tray. Slowly, ever so slowly he walked forward, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

"You wanna know what they did to thieves?" he asked with menacing glee.

Immediateky he brought the cleaver down with all his weight onto the point where the boy's hand met his wrist. The blade sunk deep, chipping the bone as blood spurted out and slathered the blade, the chair and the floor. Number 93 let out a wretched scream as The Doppelganger began to savagely hack away at his wrist, his cuts far from clean or precise as the man's wristbone splintered apart and shattered under the abuse, blood spurting out in a torrent. In an instant The Doppelganger had a blowtorch in his hands, the gout of white hot flame seared his wrist with third degree burns as it cauterized the ragged stump that had been formed. Doppie was evidently annoyed with the shrill shrieks emanating from the victim, so he picked up the man's own hand and slapped him across the face with it, smearing blood all over his countenance.

"Snap out of it!" He yelled, his eyes burning hot coals of rage. "Out of all the staff here, you had to pick one of my personal girls to seduce. What the fuck were you thinking!? That I wouldn't notice? Its my property you're fucking you pathetic insect. What's this? Tears? Snap. The Fuck. Out. Of. It maggot" with each point of emphasis he once again smacked the kid's face around with his own severed hand, he stopped screaming, instead going for a low pathetic moan of pain. The sight if this whelp made The Doppelganger sick to his stomach.

"You're going to tell me, right now, who let you into her pen, or else the other hand's coming off with a scalpel" Kellam nodded in submission while his lips trembled one word, "Haines". Doppie immediately called his staff officer with his implanted comlink, within the span of a few moments the door slid open and closed once more with Corporal Haines striding in and giving a salute. He didn't have time to react to what was transpiring or say anything when the Doppelganger turned and in one smooth motion, lifted the handgun from his side and pulled the trigger. The back of Haines' skull exploded out and onto the wall as the heavy caliber popped his head like a melon. The man's corpse slumped against the wall and collapsed, leaving a streak of crimson behind it as it slid downward.

"What a waste" he said simply, as he directed his attention back to the young man in his possession "Now, where wer-" he was suddenly cut off by his internal comlink.

What he demanded

Sir, we have reports of a massive flash of energy, readings indicate its an Archon activation

He felt like jumping for joy, today was a good day.

Get me fifty men, and prep my darling brother and sister, time to see how well they perform in the field

What of the SKULL Unit?

Leave them, I have a new subject for conversion here, send a team to prep him for surgery immediately, and also a cleanup crew With that said he forcibly shut off the comlink, and left the room to go prepare for the upcoming trip into town.

A spring could be seen in his step as he bounded down the corridors to the armory, selecting a powered suit of armor designed more to resist blows in order to make capturing live targets easier, complete with tether cables and an electrified net launcher mounted to the wrist. Along with various other less than lethal implements he selected an extendable shock baton, blind grenades, and an energy lash designed to scramble the nerves of whatever part of the body it struck. His blade Gunginir was still in its scabbard at his side, as was his hand cannon. Feeling he was suitably armed and armored to go find this prodgical little Archon, he rushed back to the hangar to wait for his associates to emerge.

Today truly was a good day

((Enter Maya's Doppelganger - CS coming soon))

A woman stood alone in a sterile white room. Her arms wrapped around her torso, held in place by an uncomfortable jacket that matched the white walls. The room smelled of bitter metal and rubbing alcohol. With her head tilted curiously to the side, the woman stared unblinkingly into a mirror. The person staring back at her was, in the simplest of terms, pretty; supple flesh draped flawlessly over well-defined bone structures, forming a sophisticated, regal appearance. While slightly disheveled, her silver-white hair rippled like silk. A smile stretched across her face, causing her cheeks to twitch from fatigue, but the discomfort was a simple superfluous firing of neurotransmitters. She felt no pain. Her eyes, which gleamed like puddles of congealed blood, failed to convey the same cheeriness of her pearly whites and dimpled cheeks. They were like voids that threatened to devour any living thing that their gaze fell upon.

A mental disconnect severed the woman’s cognitive presence from her physical existence, causing her to question if she was even in the suffocating confines of the white room. She was more or less detached: an observer trapped within a body. Her thoughts were quiet, merely melancholy echoes floating about a foggy, shapeless landscape. As she continued to stare into the mirror at the awful grinning woman, a dreadful feeling clawed at her stomach. She knew the woman, but the pieces weren’t connecting. After minutes, or possibly hours, she realized the woman was herself. Yet, it wasn’t her all at the same time.

The smile tugged tighter across the woman’s face. The corners, cracked from dehydration, blushed red with stinging drops of blood. The pain failed to evoke any reaction.

One.
One.
One.

The number seared its way into her thoughts. Her smile widened. The muscles in her face screamed for relief.

There…can only be…one.

Still gleefully barring her teeth, her eyebrows furrowed at the invasive thoughts that gnawed through her brain like maggots.

There can only be one.
O-one.

Images of a woman who looked like the woman in the mirror, except for her eyes which blazed a brilliant blue instead of crimson, seeped into her mind. While the woman was unaware of it, she was a splinter of a shadow of a soul…a mere facsimile forged into existence. Indeed she possessed a “human” body; however, she lacked her humanity. The fog which clouded her mind was slowly dissipating, perhaps a consequence of drugs wearing off, yet the divorce between mind and body remained, leaving her to feel the numb bite of nothingness.

The sickening vision of the blue-eyed imposter, which now completely consumed her thoughts, prompted the woman to violently thrash back and forth against her restraints while making guttural, inhuman screeches until the bindings reluctantly gave way. Upon release, her arm hooked forward, smashing her bare fist into the mirror, shattering both the glass and her knuckles. Her smile, still unfading, reflected in the thousands of blood-splattered pieces.

There can only BE ONE.

The tribes people stood around uncomfortably around the mysterious man and his bizarre skull. Enoch had left, Mithi and Aarav following her, and Pandu tightened his grip on his weapon, anticipating an attack that never came. Instead, the figure in the middle of them vanished, causing many of the I'niks to cry out in fear and shock, raising their weapons at once to defend themselves from an oncoming attack that – once again – didn't come.

Instead, there were cries of alarm from Mithi and Aarav as the man re-materialized before them. Or, Enoch, who hardly flinched. The man had come out of a large animal skull, which fell from the sky, with no sign of a headless body. The fact that he could move so fast no one could see him didn't surprise her. Which may be related to what he's told me, Enoch thought to herself. I feel like I should be afraid. Or shocked. Or anything. But she simply slowed to a halt, glaring at him in the sunlight.

She narrowed her emerald eyes as the man spoke to her about time running out, and more when he said he needed her. For what? Enoch wasn't exactly into decapitating unnatural dragons. Aarav in Mithi both moved when the man unsheathed his weapon; Mithi backwards in fear, and Aarav forward in bravery, while Enoch just kept glaring as he plunged it into the sand. He spoke again, insisting that Enoch make her own choice in a weeks time. A week? That was all she had to decide to go with this man or keep her life? Aarav scoffed beside her, and Enoch rolled her eyes again, feeling the deep desire to shove him face first in the dirt.

“Keep your apologies.” She said acidly, moving her feet again. She gave the man and his sword a wide berth, circling around to move past him and continue for the village. “We're finished. Go back to your skull.”

✧

Enoch locked herself away in her hut all day. This writer uses the term 'locked' loosely, as there's no option to lock a doorway covered only by leather. She hid herself inside, quiet and alone, ignoring anyone who stood outside her hut and called to her. Aarav paced around her hut for hours. Pandu came twice, speaking softly through the leather flap over her door to ask if she was alright.

But how could anyone be alright? To have some Gods-be-Damned stranger fall from the sky an announce that you don't belong? That the blood of some God ran through your veins? What God? Certainly none of their own. Pandu couldn't even defend her. Did he believe the stranger?

Alone, Enoch didn't eat or sleep until the next day. After being up all night toiling over her options, the pros and cons of leaving, the probability that she'd been sired by a star-walker, and what possibilities would be open to her now, Enoch emerged. Her eyes were red, her stomach empty, and her mood soiled. She went to the fire and took a seat, wordlessly grabbing a share of meat to tear into. She still refused to speak with anyone. At this point, everyone but Aarav had given up on drawing her out.

The next day, the second day, Enoch went to Pandu. Ignoring the obviously anxious Aarav who lurked and spied on her from a distance, she knelt before the elder, her head bowed low. “What do I do?” She asked him quietly. “Is there a chance this stranger is right? Am I not one of you?”
Pandu smiled, his old face wrinkling deeply. “You were one of us the moment you took breath, Enoch.” He reassured her, putting his hand on her head.
“Was my father a traveler?” Enoch's green eyes rose. “Or … was he...”
“A God?” Pandu smiled again. “If he was, he hid it well. He looked like a regular man. He wooed your mother like anyone else would have. Like some of us tried.” The man chuckled. “He didn't arrive in a hail of thunder, or by appearing on the wind. He walked across the desert. He was starved and dry. He smiled and he laughed. He made your mother laugh. Even when he walked back across the desert, your mother's smile never faded. We thought she would be heart broken. Or angry about having to raise you n your own. But it was like she kept a secret from us all. Something that made her heart happy.”

✧

On the third day, more of her kin came to her, asking Enoch what she would decide. Aarav told her to stay. Mithi kept quiet, too afraid to attempt to persuade her from one way or the other. A few of the tribes people told her to go. More told her to stay. Enoch thought she would be relieved and glad to hear so many people ask her not to leave them, but it made her feel heavier with dread. It was a feeling she didn't understand.

Even Wnous, the elder woman, gave her opinion. Enoch was helping her with a few chores in her hut when the woman croaked at her. Enoch glanced up at her as she bent over the woman's leather sandals, her needle repairing the aged leather. She put on the same strained smile she'd been giving everyone else, Wnous smiled, and Enoch bent back to work. Then Wnous croaked again, and Enoch realized she wasn't croaking, she was speaking. “Go.” She said. Enoch stopped repairing the shoe and sat upright, her weight on her heels.
“Go?”
Wnous nodded, grinning toothlessly. Her gnarled hand gestured upward to the ceiling of her hut, but Enoch knew she meant the skies.
“So even you have heard?” Enoch's mood plummeted further. She'd spent extra time with Wnous in hopes that no one would pester her.
Again, Wnous nodded. “You … have a chance … to dance … with the Gods.” She said, struggling to get the words out.
Enoch put on a smile Wnous couldn't see to attempt to mask the tears that burned her eyes. Wnous didn't speak again as Enoch went back to work, her fingers slow as she pierced the leather.

Aarav met her her outside Wnous's hut, catching Enoch's wrist in his hand. “Come with me,” He pleaded, leading her to Enoch's hut. “I'm going to convince you to stay.”
He tried. Hard. For a few minutes during their sweating and gasping, Enoch forgot about the shadow that hung over her head and weighed down her heart. For a long minute, she was happy, lost in Aarav's kisses, in the scent of his skin, in the sound of his efforts. But when they lay beside one another, sweat glistening over their naked bodies, Enoch slipped away again, her eyes on the ceiling of her hut as she wondered what it would be like to leave. Aarav would never forgive her. He loved her. And Enoch … well, she loved him, too. But not enough to marry him. Enoch had always wanted to leave the village and explore. Aarav wanted children.
“You're going to go.”
Enoch turned her head and met Aarav's dark gaze. “What?”
“You're going to go.” He repeated. Enoch could hear the pain behind his words.
“I haven't decided,”
“Yes you have.” Aarav sat up and leaned on his elbow, resting his hand on Enoch's bare stomach. “You're already gone. Since the man came, you haven't been here. Your mind is with the Gods, and you're wondering how we will survive without you.” Enoch pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “Truth is, we were fine for generations before you. We will live for generations more, with or without you.” He lowered his head and kissed Enoch's frown. “I want you. To give me strong sons and beautiful daughters. But I don't need you.” Enoch glared at him, slightly insulted. He kept her quiet with a caress on her cheek. “This Non-God said he needed you. You are meant to be someone very important. More important than you could ever be as my mate.” Aarav smiled, though Enoch could see the effort behind it. “So you're going to go. I am making your decision for you.”
Enoch stared up at his face for a long moment before she gripped the nape of his neck and pulled him downward, inviting another round.

✧

She crept from her hut in the in the middle of the night. Crouching in the doorway, Enoch listened for sounds of life throughout the camp. Everyone was asleep. Enoch felt her heart thud loudly in her chest. She was going to do it. She was going to leave. Not with a fanfare or celebration feast, but with the shadows in the dead of night. Cowardly, but Enoch couldn't face all the goodbyes. She had the courage now to leave. Too many sad faces and her resolve would crumble.

Just as quietly, she ducked back into her hut to gather what clothes she had, and her trusted bone axe. She tied her clothing into a leather pouch, then hooked the handle of her weapon through it. Rising to her feet, Enoch raised her head and her gaze fell upon the war axe that was proudly displayed on the wall, where it had been for her whole life. I'm leaving, she thought softly. A man came, and told me that my father was a God. Is that true? Not that Enoch expected her mother to answer. Her gaze fell for a moment while she wallowed in foolish disappointment. I'll remember my roots. I'll be grateful for every breath.

Enoch bowed her head in farewell to her mother's axe, and turned to exit her home for good. Only, as she crouched near the door, she found she couldn't leave again. For a few heartbeats, she sat frozen in the door, before her head turned and her eyes landed on the axe again. I can't leave it, she realized. Its all I really have of my mother. I can't …
Frowning, feeling oddly guilty, she rose again and approached the axe. She had to take it. But she couldn't carry such a bright thing around in the dead of night. It would reflect too much moonlight. So, searching around for a moment, Enoch pulled the leather off her bed and pulled down the large war axe, careful not to touch it. It shined so brightly, even after all these years of neglect, and Enoch feared smudging it with fingerprints. Not only was this the only thing she had that belonged to her mother, it was also the only thing that tied her to her father. It seemed a poor idea to leave it behind.

With the war axe covered, Enoch gathered her pack again and went out for the last time. She crept to the outside of her village and walked around it, avoiding crossing anyone's line of sight as she went. She was nearly out when she heard someone clear their throat. Frightened, she whirled around, her emerald gaze falling upon Pandu. He stared at her, his eyes bright in the moonlight. “I knew you would sneak away.” Enoch swallowed, feeling guilty. “You really are just like your father.”
“I...” Enoch started, but she silenced herself. What could she say to that? “What was he like?”
Pandu shook his head, and whispered back. “That is a question for your dragon-slayer.” Enoch felt her stomach twist in disappointment. “But...” Her eyes went to Pandu's again. “Your mother adored him. Whether it was his strength, or his kindness, I will not know. Perhaps he was simply a great lover, but,” Pandu grinned as Enoch blushed in the darkness. “I don't believe it was just that. He cared deeply for those who loved him. Just as you do.” He waved his hand, shooing her. “Now go, God's Daughter. Go fulfill your destiny. And do not forget your family.”

Enoch stared at him in the sunlight, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She nodded her head, and turned her back to Pandu as she strolled in the direction of the skull. Her feet felt heavy as she went, her steps sinking further in the sand. By the time she came across the sword that jutted out of the desert like a beacon, Enoch felt displaced. Right now, she belonged to neither world. She was simply a lost woman, standing before a stranger's sword. With a sad sigh, she reached out and lay her fingers on the hilt of the weapon.

As the native girl went off back to her home, Marcus and Arcturus had an inner debate that raged from the implications of ripping someone away from their life for a calling that might get them killed, to the insane imagination that native people have, because Marcus really doesn't see how the drop pod looks like a skull. Along with other small talk and conversation that the author is too lazy to remember what they said and italicize everything.

The sand was already pulling the drop pod down into the dune, very slowly, but in time it would be swallowed whole. Marcus took the time do wonder about this planet's mineral deposits as he wandered along the wasteland. The heat was intense, sand was already getting everywhere, the black material of his duster not helping. Internally he cursed his poor decision making skills as he wondered how he'd manage to survive the sweltering hot temperature and lack if food.

This was going to be a long ass week

----------four days later------------

Marcus gobbled up the last bits of snake he'd caught. The texture was all wrong and the flavor was bizzare, fishy chicken was the best he could come up with. Night had fallen and a refreshing chill set in along the sand. It amazed him how quickly a desert went from one extreme to another. He was just about to go off in search of more food when a figure appeared in the distance; heading towards where Raiden sat in the sand.

Think it's a thief?

Could be, or perhaps its the girl

Regardless, he needed to get over there anyway, so he headed back until the figure became clear. Sure enough it was the girl, her hand gripping the hilt of the blade. He dusted himself off as he trekked down to her, prying her grip gently from the weapon as he lifted it back out of the sand. With a smooth motion he sliced the thin air behind him, a thin white line immediately appeared as the rift formed, it quickly expanded to reveal the interior of the Leviathan's medbay. Without a word he encouraged her to move forward through it, finally gently taking her hand and walking through. The rift closed behind them as soon as they were through, leaving them in the sterile, cold, steel colored interior of the ship.

He never felt so happy to be back home

Marcus! Arcturus barked

What

You never even bothered to check if she brought her weapon!

oh shit

He looked down at the primitive girl for the first time, she was shivering.

Why is she.. Oh, right, native to a desert planet, metal floor and A/C that makes sense

This is your chance to act like an actual person for once, offer her a blanket

Almost at once he jolted forward towards the supply closet, digging through it for a short while before finally finding a standard stark white linen blanket. He turned about with it in hand and offered it to her, trying to find what to say in his mind, the language was still new to him.

"Did your.. Father or mother keep a weapon with them? Not bone but metal" he finally asked bluntly