R...evelation.
“Hm…”
“Hm?”
“…”
Cecelia, Cherry and Olivia sit in a small circle as Nerina, Ezell, and Giocatore observe them from a table a short distance away. Within the childcare center, all sorts of little beings ramble about, but this little corner is most peculiar with two Elite Operators and a Lateran Executor sharing a table perhaps a bit small for the adults.
The walls all painted in playful colours and murals while the ground’s plastered with thick foam mats and all sorts of toys. Trucks, dolls, blocks, cars strewn across the floor while children of all ages and maybe some of their caretakers engage in a most joyful and relaxed time.
“Who’s gonna speak first?” Ezell chuckles.
“I think Olivia’s gonna talk~” Nerina hums, “Even if she is… very shy…”
“Cherry,” Giocatore asserts.
“Hi…” Olivia meekly mutters, shooting a ‘save me’ pleading glance to Nerina.
Olivia’s silver fur has regained a fair sheen now as her little Feline ears smush themselves into her head out of embarrassment. Her clothes, a puffy long skirt and a flowing shirt coloured in similar oceanic blues, cutely ordain her, coupled off by a pair of semi-formal black shoes.
“Hah! I win!” Nerina shouts.
“Eh…?” Cecelia mutters, craning her neck, “Win what?”
“N… Nothing, actually…”
“Heh…”
“Cherry, why are you… smirking?”
“It’s just funny!” she giggles, “Nerina frowning like that… hehe…”
“Oh she takes joy out of my suffering huh,” she groans, glaring at Giocatore, “Bad habits man.”
“I simply think she’s enjoying a… change of pace,” he explains.
“Change of pace?” Ezell hums, “Cecelia!”
“E-Eh?”
“Stop… tugging on Cherry’s hair…”
“A-Ah…” the girl in question groans, “W-What are you d-doing-?!”
“I’m braiding her hair!”
“Y-You could at least tell me!” Cherry whines, her Cautus ears folding inwards just a little.
“Hmph…” Cecelia pouts, not even bothering to let go, “There.”
“A… Giocatore…”
“Hm?”
The girl spins her head around, as if presenting such a braid to him.
It’s… certainly an attempt at a braid. A bit messy, unbalanced, but definitely done with care. Ezell finds himself chuckling a little having had made such braids in Cecelia’s hair in the past and present.
“It’s nice. Cecelia cares about making a good first impression.”
“Impression…” Cherry murmurs, “Oh. Uhm… Yes, my name’s Cherry!” she greets, turning back to the other girls.
“I’m Cecelia!”
“… O… Olivia…”
“How… old are they?” Ezell murmurs.
“I think Cecelia’s technically the oldest,” Nerina calculates, “Cherry’s birthday… is…”
“November 11th.”
“Right, Cecelia’s on New Year’s Eve, and Olivia’s is on… November 14th.”
“So… Cecelia’s…. 11, Cherry’s… 11? And Olivia’s… ten.”
“Colour me surprised, the youngest is the shyest,” Ezell nods.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nerina pouts.
“So…” Cecelia murmurs, “How… are you guys?”
“I’m alright,” Cherry replies, nodding rapidly while fiddling with a screw and a bolt.
“… Good…” Olivia whispers.
“… Boop…”
Cecelia’s finger pushes in the forehead of Olivia. A most playful poke.
“Wah-!”
“Hehe…”
“Cecelia, keep your hands to yourself…” Ezell groans.
“Oh… Hm… Fine…”
“I see the kids are… having some fun~” Raidian hums as she walks into the room.
Around her legs, some other children either grapple onto her like cats or are tailing her like a young duckling.
“Miss Raidian~ Hello~” Nerina greets.
“Hello, Raidian,” Giocatore nods.
“Ah, greetings,” Ezell meets, “Thanks for caring for Cecelia and the rest of these kids. Pleasant job you’ve done.”
“It’s only my work~” she returns, “But… thank you. Lightfall!”
“Mm?”
“I see you’ve… taken in a child?”
“For the time being, yes,” he murmurs.
“Alright then~ Do well, but I know you will~ See you all around!”
“Later,” he nods.
“Bye Raidian~” Nerina hums.
“See you,” Ezell waves.
Although his voice, here and now, tickles the slightest of emotions. Nerina raises a slight eyebrow towards him but silently makes a judgement for the better.
“Nerina…” Olivia moans, “Help…”
Once again, she finds herself as the miniature child-sized punching bag of the group, now being practically flattened by Cherry.
“Heheh!” the offending child giggles, smothering the other playfully as she wrangles the one below her.
“A-Ah… H-Help!”
“Cherry, get… get off of Olivia…” Giocatore sighs, standing up.
“Waah…”
“Is this how you play? Come,” he advises, tugging her off.
The girl slumps around like a sack of limp potatoes, rising a laughter out of the other kids and the other three adults.
“Waaaaaaaaaah…”
“You can’t just tackle other people…”
“But…”
“No buts… it’s not nice… You don’t see me flattening Nerina or Ezell.”
“W-Wha?” the glacial Sankta blinks.
“Now that would certainly be something you and Logos do.”
“… Curious.”
“Hmph…”
He sighs once again, plopping Cherry onto her knees before pointing her towards Olivia.
“Now apologize.”
“S… sorry…”
“O-oh it’s… it’s okay,” Olivia whispers.
“Good,” he nods, standing up and a bit back to watch them all.
Although it always seems like she’s perpetually frowning, perhaps out of shyness or sheer social anxiety.
“She looks like she’s gonna explode,” Nerina murmurs.
“Ha, maybe,” Ezell chuckles.
“Olivia, is everything alright?”
“E-Eh? O-Oh, I-I’m fine,” she stutters, certainly looking not fine.
“Mm…” Nerina whispers, standing up gently, moving over to the girl, and kneeling next to her, “May I?”
“O-Oh… Uhm… y-yes…”
The Sankta’s hand descends gently on her head, patting softly and ruffling about her fur. Her ears flicker about, twitching here and there as her face lightens up the slightest amounts.
“There there… It’ll all be okay here. You’re safe~”
“M-Mhm…”
“Good!”
“Hmph,” Cecelia pouts, shuffling herself a bit over. A bit closer.
“Are you jealous?” she chuckles, “Alright, come here~”
And so she does until Nerina’s arms extend enough to give Cecelia an equal amount of care.
“Hehe… Thank you Nerina…” Cecelia giggles as Nerina’s hand pats her head and stirs her hair.
“Mhm~”
Cherry gazes on for a moment as a perplexing amount of emotions simmer within her. She tilts her head, observing the curious displays of affection as one child gently laughs, the other slowly comes to a calm, and the adult looks increasingly delighted with each passing second.
Her heart misses something, and she can even sense that grief emanating from Olivia, and even just the slightest from Cecelia.
Perhaps everything she sees is a veil, but then again… she knows that they’re much in the same situation as her: attempting to supplement their lives with a little joy.
So she turns her head to Giocatore, wordlessly pleading, right behind him and tilting her neck upwards.
A word need not be said.
Cherry’s arms jut outwards, upwards to him. He kneels down, humbly and firmly lifting the child up into his arms.
Her arms wrap around his back and coat, clutching onto the fabric for dear life as her wide eyes slowly begin to return to normalcy.
“Warm…” she mumbles, leaning a bit more into his shoulder, “Very… warm…”
Her head, inch by inch, begins to drift closer and closer to him, until slowly and very surely, she rests entirely onto his arm.
Her breath drifts to drowsy, her eyes flicker to a close, and her grip, however tense she might want to be, alleviates too, until all the movement left in her body is the gentle cycles of rise and fall reflecting her little breaths and soft heartbeat.
Giocatore sluggishly runs his hand on her back as he walks back over to the table, sitting next to Ezell.
“She trusts you… a lot,” he notes, “To fall asleep… in your arms.”
“Perhaps she does… Where did she get this trust from? Why from me? What… did I do for her?”
“Y’know, Nerina asked those questions to me frequently,” he reminisces, turning to face her as she starts playing with both the girls.
“… Did she now…”
“Oh yes… She’s been through… much. I’m proud of her. If you asked her to touch someone else back then, she would’ve glared at you before being haunted by her traumas.”
“I see.”
“So for as to why… Sometimes, we just do things that we feel is right. You want to care for her, and she did nothing for you.”
“… Simply because it… feels ‘correct.’”
“Precisely,” he grins, “Terra’s cruel so we must be kind.”
“Your heart is firm for this world. Considering… what occurred to me.”
“Yeah, that’s… inhumane. But… you’re here now. And well, you’re safe.”
“Right.”
He glances to Cherry, then to Ezell, and then back to Nerina.
“So is she. She won’t ever have to deal with… combat again. That’s for us to do. To shield them from harm until they can fight for themselves if they choose.”
“She chose you for a reason… seems she was right. Maybe she was desperate for someone to cling onto, but that could’ve been anyone. Maybe she chose you because she knows you might need a little something too.”
“But if I already have… Spearhead, then why more?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” he solemnly says, shaking his head, “I’m not in your mind. I don’t know what it feels like for your body to be… a monument of sin.”
He winces at that statement.
“And what happened… has happened.”
“Alea iacta est…” Giocatore whispers, almost too quietly.
“Well, she certainly is enjoying that,” he shifts, gazing back to Nerina now carrying Olivia on her shoulders as Cecelia sprints around in circles.
“Certainly seems that way.”
He glances back down to Cherry, noticing the sprawl of Originium shards consuming her shoulders, albeit less aggressively now, and lets out a heavy sigh.
ʚїɞ
“Alright fuckass, wake up!”
“Leggera, quiet a bit…” Fiammetta groans as we meander down the halls of a prison.
Drab greys, cells of thick metal doors and imposing bars. Not a window in sight. The only illumination dawning upon this place is the harsh, blinding white florescence igniting every single corner of this detention center.
The ‘clean-up’ took a bit longer than expected. That young boy’s chosen a safe family. And by the Law… there’s… so many insurgents.
Throughout the Cohors and the Hall, too many.
Too damn many.
That’s how deep is influence ran?!
“You want me to shut up dealing with the guy who shot my sister’s boyfriend?” I scoff, “Yeah, fuck no. WAKE UP!”
I slam my fist into the lock of a prison cell, instantly bursting it open. It slams against the wall, echoing metal flying across the rest of the block while my hand flickers with molten fury.
That man shrivels at my incursion as Fiammetta sighs and waits by the door.
“Now you’re scared… Didn’t occur to you the damn consequences for assaulting a member of the Hall?!”
His dark, splintered wings writhes before me. His failing halo, a Sarkaz tail and horns, sprouting from his body.
“God damn it… You and your…”
I draw my blade as he winces.
“Well, this will be simple. You know it, I know it.”
The edge of the weapon suddenly finds itself right against his neck. It tenses, pulsing with life, as the veins beneath his delicate skin seem to shiver and twist.
“As of now, the sword is cold. But if you piss me off, it’ll get hotter and hotter until your skin starts to sizzle. Got it?”
He nods, not daring to make eye contact.
“Good, good… Alright, first question… fucking why man? Why? Member of the Pontifica Cohors Lateran, or should I say former member?”
And all of a sudden, he sneers.
“Inane, young… soldier,” he coughs, “Laterano isn’t heaven.”
“I fucking know that. Nothing is. We can get as close as we can, but-“
“Yet you defend it? Defend its… sorry attempts to right a future?”
“Coming from the mouth of insurgents? Vile. Taking a child hostage, firing upon an Executor, plotting and running your organization throughout Lateran government branches? … Why?”
“Why?” he gasps, “Why… Why stop such a horrendous truth from coming to light?” he snarls.
“You would rather live in bliss than uncover what truly happens? Rather live in a lie, a bubble for all eternity that everything is so… all okay? Laterano isn’t perfect. It won’t ever be. I know that, and I will fight to make it a better place. And if it means stopping damn fiends such as you, I will.”
The blade pushes inches further, the edge of it gleaming right up against his shivering skin.
“If someone’s dreaming all their life, and they’re happy, believe everything’s peaceful, beautiful… A world without damn Sarkaz, Oripathy even!” he jaunts, shoulders popping as far up as they can with the cuffs bound on his wrist, “Would you wake them up? Tear them from that heaven only to show them this pitiful, painful reality?!”
Fiammetta coughs, attracting my attention for a mere second, only to roll her eyes.
“How do you know if you’ve woken up?” I jab, “Is this your ‘dream?’ To serve someone else, denounce the nation you once served, that raised you, that built you? To serve someone who undermines and committed such… God-forsaken atrocity? How can you possibly justify kidnapping 800 children?!”
“He, Falsità, promised and proposed…”
Don’t fucking say it. Don’t fucking say-
“… Salvation, for Terra.”
“YOU GOD DAMN FUCKING-“
My words cannot describe the instant eruption and ignition every nerve, cell, and bone of my body burst into. Flames, lava, molten slag and smoldering ash all flare between my mind as my gladius drops to the ground, echoing in the cell, while my hands and fingers bend, tense, and broil, twisting around this demon’s neck.
“Salvation, salvation?! ARE YOU FUCKING OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”
He chokes, eyes spasming out as they shoot open, glaring into mine. Gasping, groaning. His own arms shoot up, clawing at my wrists, begging, pleading to release.
“MY FUCKING PARENTS ARE BOTH INSANE! THEY’RE THE GOD DAMN REASON SO MUCH OF THIS SHIT EVEN HAPPENED!”
“Leggera, stop,” Fiammetta intervenes, yanking me off, “This is an interrogation, not an execution.”
“… Fine,” I spit, arms detaching like mechanized bolts, shoving him stiffly against the wall before backing off and crossing my arms, “Have fun.”
She kneels down to the man, picking up my gladius and suddenly bashing his shoulder in with the hilt end of it, forcing out a guttural cry of agony. Her face remains completely unflinching from a stiff, fierce expression, judging, analyzing.
“Alright listen here you little shit,” she starts, “That woman? She’s their daughter. One of two. She had to kill the mother while her sister executed the father. Gonna talk more, or should I slowly, inch by inch, dice your body until it looks like a slice of Lateran cheese?”
“Oh so you’re a Fiorella…” he grunts, “You… the fault lies with you then!”
“Fucking what?” I blink, “Having ownership of the two projects that burned and went to shit? How the hell is that my fault?”
“It’s… your fault this all happened! If it weren’t for you… weren’t for your sister… then they would’ve been able to finish the projects! And bring peace to Terra! To Laterano!”
“Dude?” Fiammetta squints, standing up, “What?”
“Hah… The projects… Hah… Haha… HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA-!”
The man quickly and horrifically breaks into maniacal laughter, screaming, clawing at his own face as tears burst and stream away.
“Yes, of course… how fucking else could it make any sense? It had to be you… it had to be you that… my dearest friend… VANISHED without a trace! When… we were just kids… hah… ah… haha… if Falsità didn’t raise you… raise your god damn sister… HE WOULDN’T BE GONE! My friend… oh do you even live… Falsità wouldn’t have had a reason to continue this shit… To pass it on, to ensure it lived!”
“You’re making no god damn sense,” she grunts, standing to turn away, “I think we’ve lost him.”
“To the sea… to the sea… to the ice, through the ice… all hands, abandon the dream and descend! Into the flickering abyss… we descend… All of this, the missing children, the reason some demons are coming… THE FAULT LIES WITH YOU LEGGERA!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Fiammetta shouts, whacking his head with the hilt, forcing it to terribly bounce off with a dull thud.
“HAHA! THAT’S… that’s damn right… isn’t it… They’re gone… they’re all fucking gone… and so is Zinnia…”
Zinnia? My mind’s nothing but a blur of confusion and burning anger, but that name swallows everything like a flood during a firestorm.
“… Giocatore, Zinnia, Peccato…?” I let out.
“Yes… that’s him… What, do you know him?”
“He’s alive,” Fiammetta blinks, “He’s with us.”
“… By… the…”
“He lives… he survived the blacksite… Perfect… Does he remember me?!”
“He remembers jack all actually,” she returns, “So no.”
“… Hah… Pointless… All of this… utterly… pointless…”
“… Yeah, no, we’re done here,” she grumbles, handing my blade back to me as she shoves me out and slamming the cell door, but not before he lets out one last blood-curdling cry.
A blazing exhale roasts my throat as I send it all out before slumping against a wall.
“You good?”
“… Dunno.”
“What he said was true? That the projects are-“
“Technically under my ownership now… yes.”
“… You gonna do anything with them?”
“Considering they both went under and well… did atrocities, no.”
“Good choice.”
“… They had to had a reason, right?” I mutter.
“Hm?”
“My mom. Eclissi.”
“Wanted… salvation to come. Sought that with the damn Seaborn, orchestrated… the near assassination of your sister.”
“The hell was her reason for that? She also said ‘he regrets’ when we finally killed her… or whatever oceanic abomination that was.”
“Reason… some twisted, fucked up way of ‘saving Terra,’ if I remember properly…”
“That’s also what my father wanted to do…”
“Giocatore said that the blacksite aimed to… make a perfect super soldier. To fight the true demons of Terra, whatever that might be. And in order to do so, he… kidnapped 800 kids? And then made a site in… Sami to make those mechs, one of which Giocatore pilots now.”
“What point would he have in order to make that in Sami… The transport makes no sense. Could’ve just had it close enough to the blacksite… Y’know, Ezell and I when searching the house found a letter from Falsità to Eclissi, and it… more or less was blaming her for doing this to him.”
She squints, gazing around the prison block before lifting her eyes to me.
“He… he wrote about… regretting a huge mistake. The greatest mistake. A set of actions so… so terrible, so painful he deserved to be Infected… And then he said that that’s the price… the price of devotion, the price to save Terra, the price of peace-!”
My breath sprints ahead of my mind, as if battering against my lips while my tongue trips over itself.
“Then that mistake was shooting Nerina,” Fiammetta calculates, “Or the children.”
“Then we found another letter written in blood and… it said ‘It was your ways that caused this, the reason why I hold this regret so deeply in my heart. I belong in hell, just like the daughter I so painfully sent to because of your words. You incessant heathen, mindbender and monster, Eclissi. I regret every word I said to you, and every emotion I once had for you.’”
That letter has been scorched into my memory. Its text written in horrific cherry hue, dried and caked for God knows how many years, yet perfectly legible.
“Mindbender… was… was he… twisted into doing this?”
“… Even then, would his morality state otherwise?!”
“People will do hideous shit for a chance of a greater purpose… Fuck, he reminds me of Andoain. He… really seems to regret shooting Nerina.”
“The gall… the damn gall-!”
My fist flies into the concrete, blasting a thin crater as flames burst all around it as fragments of rock turn to dust before me.
“This-! Why… This damn-! Then the fault lies with my mother… all the evil… all that… hell is with her… and I can’t even be happy that she’s dead…”
“No, I wouldn’t either,” she agrees, voice lowering, “It looks like… No, should we even get more involved in this?”
“I don’t know about you, but now I want to find out exactly everything about this. What drove my dad to insanity… because it’s not every damn day you write a letter out of your blood!”
“You want to go to Sami?” she blinks, “You’re gonna die.”
“… One day, I’ll find out everything… everything about why my parents did anything. Understand why they… tore our lives apart.”
“Not everything has a reason, and less things have a logical reason.”
“Alright I get it but like-! You don’t just… kidnap a school’s worth of kids on a whim! What… did Eclissi say to him… what did he see that made him do all that?!”
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“So I need to know… why.”
She sighs, walking back towards the exit as I follow.
“There’s a saying I slowly began to learn with time. A phrase that… more or less blipped into my mind as Andoain left Laterano like the little bitch he is. For one… it’s that he would be considered a martyr.”
“A martyr…”
“You could say that’s what your dad thinks he’s doing… but the way I see it?”
She takes a sharp breath, taking thoughts and words as one before spitting it all out.
“The road to hell’s inferno is paved with the brightest of intentions.”
ʚїɞ
“Medical check-up?” Gavial perks up as I step into the room.
The woman flashes me a wide smile while nodding.
Cherry’s still asleep, soundly and silently in my arms.
“… Yes. I wanted to know when she will pass.”
“Well, she was here earlier, and her infection is quite severe… with her current state and medicines then… hm,” she murmurs, scrolling through a terminal, “Ah. She might… make it to 20. But her quality of life will start heavily deteriorating at around 17 or 18.”
“I see.”
“You’re caring for her, aren’t you?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“That’s gonna be… rough,” she sighs.
“I know. But I will prepare for it, and I will make sure she will reach that milestone.”
“Commendable,” she slightly smiles, “Here, take these suppressants. If she has a flare-up, jab them into muscle, usually the thigh or the upper arm.”
She hands me a few packaged needles, although my arms are currently occupied. So, with a few whisps of Arts, I send a shadow tendril to retrieve the medication before stuffing it away within a pocket of my coat.
“Thank you.”
“Well perhaps I should be thanking you,” she shrugs, “Taking on a kid isn’t any small feat.”
“Perhaps. She more or less chose me. I don’t have any right to refuse that humble request of a child.”
“You’re pretty kind, y’know.”
“I just do what seems to be expected.”
“A sense of morality… Seemingly you have one, as I’ve read a bit from Warfarin.”
“The concept of right and wrong changes with time, nation, and people.”
“Very true,” she nods, “But your morality drifts a bit higher than a few here.”
“Does it now…”
“See, a lot of people just won’t care for kids even as adorable as they are. Too much time, too much noise, too much commitment, y’know how it goes. Even if they… want to be cared for. Seeking something to maybe fill the void… they lost,” she whispers, gazing towards me.
“Her parents did pass.”
“Then there’s even more reason she clung.”
“Why me? Touch, the Doctor, and Raidian met her before.”
“Maybe she saw something. Liked something about how you carry yourself, or just clicked,” she shrugs, “Oftentimes it’s just chance people work well together and often they don’t, even with no other backgrounds or contexts.”
“Peculiar…”
“Mm…” Cherry mumbles as she stirs in my arms, “So warm…”
“Are you awake?”
“Eh…? Where am I…?’
“You’re in the medical bay. I got some suppressors for your Oripathy.”
“B-But I’m already on pills…” she moans.
“Would you prefer it a fluid?” Gavial asks gently.
“Yeah… Tastier too. These ones… so bitter…” she complains, shaking her head.
“Who’s administering children… pills…?” the Archosauria groans, “Lightfall, do you have her prescription?”
“No.”
“Don’t worry,” she waves, typing away, “Cherry… Erinnaught… There we are. Mm… oh these are quite high dosages for a kid,” she mutters, “… You’d be drinking the equivalent of a small smoothie per day.”
“E-Eh?!”
“If it brings her comfort to consume fluid rather than solids, I do believe that option should be pursued.”
“Issue is, these medications are quite intense. The other option we’d have is… an IV line.”
“… And how frequently would she need to be administered that?”
“Weekly, into the elbow vein.”
“Cherry, what do you think?”
“Hm… Needles right?”
“Yes, it won’t hurt much but it will hurt.”
“Ah… Well… I-I’ll do the needle! T-The pills are hard to swallow anyways…” she whimpers, ears drooping a bit.
“Just once a week,” I remind, “Are you sure?”
“Mhm!” she grins, ears suddenly straightening up.
“Alright then I’ll get that sorted,” Gavial nods, clattering away.
“Where is Warfarin today?”
“Oh, tending with some other patients. Needed to specifically see her?”
“No, more so just wondering. She was usually the one who dealt with my medical conundrum… of which I’m sure Doctor Kal’tsit is watching diligently.”
“Ah, I see I see,” she goes on, “Alright then Cherry, that’s all sorted.”
“Yay! Thank you! Oh, who is this Warfarin?” she blinks, cocking her head to the side.
“A…” I start, suddenly remembering her reaction to Closure.
“A Vampire who’s quite damn good at this whole healing thing,” Gavial juts in.
… Ah.
“U-Uh-A-A V-Vam-Vampire-?!” Cherry stutters, suddenly gripping my jacket unbelievably tightly.
“Oh…” she murmurs, placing a finger over her lips.
“Th… The Sarkaz…” she shivers, burying herself into my shoulder, “T-They…”
“It’s okay,” I assure, “Here, everyone believes in… peace. Unification. The common goal to… rid Terra of Oripathy.”
“A-Ah… b-but still t… they…”
“Rough time, I know,” Gavial empathizes, “But with time you’ll see not every Sarkaz is a ‘demon’ alright?”
She shivers slightly, whimpering in my grasp.
“One day,” I whisper, “It will come to be.”
“I will… come to… accept the… the Sarkaz…?”
“Maybe. But you will learn how not every Sarkaz wishes to end your life, and you will slowly learn that those who conduct evil will soon have that evil done against them. I swear to it.”
“Oh…”
“My squad’s handler is a Banshee. He is perhaps one of the wisest and kindest people I know.”
“A… Banshee…”
“Yes. People have lives. They are more than a snapshot you see of them at that specific moment. They may cry or laugh. But if you truly want to know the person beneath them… treat them as any other human would.”
“Woah…”
My mind blinks to how Ezell and Nerina treat each other, or what I remember from observing everyone else interact. This feels… right. This feels like something I want to be doing, should be doing.
“The Sarkaz that killed those that you loved do not deserve your compassion or time. They will suffer and if not also perish. But those that have yet to do anything… you must at least give them a chance. That grace was what Nerina gave me, and the only reason I can stand here now.”
“Nerina… She sounds great…”
“She is.”
“Mm… I-I’ll think… about it then…”
“Of course. Take as long as you need.”
“O-Okay!”
Out of the tiniest corner of my eye, I seem to catch a glimpse of Warfarin watching us from a distance. Her blood-red eyes, pale skin and curious gaze. With the end of Cherry’s words though, her complexion softens just as I meet her singular eye peeking around the corner.
I nod once to her, sealing another vow.
ʚїɞ
March 3rd, 1077.
To my dear friend braving the hells of Sami,
Today I greeted our first child. She’s one with a bright, blazing halo, and no doubt her wings will be as equally radiant.
Eclissi is pleased. She calls it… her pride, her joy, alongside mine. It seems like a new light walked into my life upon her greeting me and taking my hand.
You may feel this was rather quick in terms of time but… what other option did I have? I walked into a profession I don’t terribly enjoy, but she seems passionate about hers. Yes, I may be skilled and intelligent in forging all those wonderful prosthesis… but I want something more.
You see, my parents drove me here while I simply rode along the waves of their passion. So I picked up what they set down… and too late after a decade of study have I come to realize I don’t terribly like what I do.
I want to… do something that benefits people. More people. All of Terra!
I’ll have this beautiful child carry on my wishes then. Surely you’ll be with me to that end? As for how and what… I’m not sure yet,
Perhaps Oripathy could be eliminated but…
… No, it’s a bit too much to think about. For the time being though, Eclissi’s telling me that all this was worth it. That’s the price of… well, something to help people, she said. And if what I do makes more people at peace…
Then I suppose that’ll be the price of peace. One soul for countless others.
From your dear friend, Falsità Fiorella.
ʚїɞ
“What’s he doing?” Cherry asks as she cranes her neck to me, then to the front of the room. The canteen’s somewhat full today too.
We’re sitting across from each other in the canteen, and for the first time I’m not upon the front swallowing burning oil.
But this time, Aefanyl’s doing so.
He stands, arms spread, inviting the applause of everyone before Gummy hands him a cup of still boiling oil. Her face… twists a little, perhaps a little fearful but also exhausted.
The Banshee takes the cup with a soft nod, staring into it before raising it to the crowd.
“For that continued dream… for all that believe in us, in me. For those that cannot fight any longer, and for those who will always fight… To Rhodes Island,” he states, and with that, a small spell leaving his lips.
Threads of silver text wind around the cup, gently flowing round and round before the glass suddenly ignites with a pure blue flame.
“Woah-!” Cherry gasps, nearly jumping in her seat.
“Don’t worry, he’s perhaps the most skilled Caster upon Terra.”
“Is he a Liberi?” she murmurs, eyes locking onto his feathers.
“No, he’s… a Banshee.”
“A… Banshee?”
“A subrace… of Sarkaz.”
She twitches as that mention despite my attempts of softening the blow.
“H… Huh…”
“He’s much fun and delight. I’m sure he would understand and love to speak with you. He’s… I do trust him a good amount.”
“H… He doesn’t look… He looks… he looks scary… but… very pretty.”
“Pretty…” I mutter, “Well yes, he does have a fine complexion and well-defined facial features, as well as a fair gaze and well-kept clothing and hair.”
“Yes! W-Well… I-I think… if you trust him, t-then so can I!”
A second later, he raises the glass and swallows the entire cocktail of blaze in a single gulp.
“W-What?! H-He just-!”
I simply nod to her surprise.
Perhaps I should refrain from telling her that I-
“Lightfall,” the Banshee suddenly calls, “Dare indulge in this wonder with me?”
Ah.
“I suppose I will,” I reply, raising my hand.
“Then catch.”
A blistering projectile formed from a glass of oil teleports to my hand at incredible speeds, slamming square into it yet causing no harm.
All eyes… swivel to me.
I raise the glass engulfed in flames.
“To a most… fervent, burning devotion to Rhodes Island. To her dream.”
I tilt it down all to the screams, shouts and cries of all the other Operators, offering cheers to them.
“You’re batshit insane!” Blaze screams at me.
I shrug.
“G-Giocatore?!” Cherry cries, “A-Also, w-what did that Feline just say-?”
“Pay… no mind to her. And it’ll be just fine,” I reassure, nodding at her.
The fire strokes the air before me, flickering and battering in all directions as I gaze into its depths. Second by second, its heat wafts to my face, yet I feel not its pain nor flinch as my lips touch the ever-blazing glass.
… And with a quick inhalation, the fluid and all of its life slithers down my throat, fire extinguished in the shortest of moments.
“W… What… the… Blimey…” Cherry lets out, “Y-You could hurt yourself!” she cries, jumping up and running over to me.
Her face folds into a pout, scrunching her lips and expression about.
“Please, it would take a bullet to cause any lasting damage to my body,” I reply, shifting my stance to throw, “Logos, receive projectile.”
“Understood.”
The cup once again finds itself turned into a bullet, careening from this end of the room straight to his palm, snatched right out of the air. He nods as the object ends up in his grasp, turning back to Gummy and handing it off.
Blaze all of a sudden comes up behind me and wraps her arm around my neck, imposing the entirety of her weight upon me. But I don’t quite falter as her bountiful laughter fills the space between us.
“You’re god damn insane!” she cackles.
“Just a little. Only to match a most prestigious Banshee,” I return.
“I heard that,” Logos mutters, walking up to me, “Well, I must say… I do thoroughly enjoy this.”
“Likewise.”
He raises his fist to me, hanging it in the air a fair distance from me.
Cherry curiously glances at his fist, then to my eyes, then back to the fist before squinting up at him.
Nodding, I connect my knuckles into his, then resting my arms by my sides.
“Huh…” she mutters, “I think I remember some of my friends doing this, innit a greeting of sorts?”
“More so a very casual handshake,” Blaze shrugs, “Oh, who’s this?”
“A-Ah-“
“Aye, don’t be so afraid! I ain’t gonna hurt ya!” she chuckles as Aefanyl lowers his posture, “What’s your name?”
“C… Cherry…”
Her little ears go from a curious standing to a slumped shy scrunch.
“Cherry? Like the fruit?” she blinks.
“M… Mhm…”
“Cute!”
“A-Ah… T… Thank you…”
I feel her fingers gently tug into my pants as she shuffles behind me.
“So are you like… her caregiver, guardian, or…?”
“You could say that yes. Caretaker… more so.”
“Caretaker… Hm, could easily pass as her dad if you ignore the whole… Sankta, Feline… Victorian accent, whatnot…”
“D… Dad…” she whispers, pushing herself deeper into my back.
“Is something the matter?”
“N… Not… not really…”
But she nuzzles even further.
“You can talk to me later if you feel in doing so.”
“Y… Yeah.”
“Greetings, I am Logos,” the Banshee introduces, peeking his head around.
“L… Logos…”
“Yes,” he gently nods, “Giocatore here is a good friend of mine. You’re in fine, careful hands.”
“… Y-You’re a S… Sarkaz…”
“I am.”
“B… But you… you seem a lot… nicer… than the other… ones…”
She pokes her head out from my legs, letting an inch of her eye into the open. Her hands and fingers, stabbing in the fabric of my clothes, rattle and shiver. Terror, fear, trauma, all blazing across her muscles and nerves like lightning across wire. Her voice trembles, frail and fragile like solidifying smoke.
Yet she stands firm, towards all of it, rather than shoving her head in the sand and avoiding all confrontation.
Her maturity… forcibly or not, exceeds that of many.
“Mm… Often I’m told… but you’ll find the myriad Sarkaz aboard here following some fine ideals and fine dreams. Ones that align with the man you’ve come closer to.”
“Y… Yes… He… he told me a little about you… you’re kind… a-and nice. And… the other here are… are good too…”
“You’re a brave little Cautus,” he affirms, “Talking to me at all, that is. It… might take time. There’s some… less admirable. Others more so. But it’s important to remember that we, much like you, all are people too. The one’s that demolished your home however… they shall have no home upon here.”
“Y… Yeah. Yes… of… course,” she blinks, voice slowly anchoring itself into confidence, “I-I believe in you… I believe you! And… and Giocatore!”
A small flicker runs from my heart.
“That’s good then,” he nods again, then smiling ever so slightly and rising to his feet, “Oh, and Lightfall.”
“Yes?”
“Mm… This concerns many of the Elites… but…”
“What, something big?” Blaze blinks, ears twitching.
“Oh, something quite large indeed…”
“What is it? I’m sure all can be resolved.”
His eyes narrow as his vermillion-shaded irises blaze across us all. In a fluid motion, he turns his head to the side, still making eye contact, before shifting his pose to… an all too dramatic stand that also exudes… very little of anything out of place.
“Perhaps it is time, Blaze… for an awaited rematch. And some… new contenders,” he adds, turning to me, “Waterlily, Lightfall… Mm… I have long waited for a proper time…”
“… What is…?”
“Hah,” he smirks ever so slightly, “… A most insane office chair racing tournament… shall once again return.”
“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Blaze screams, scaring Cherry with a yelp as I simply gaze in slight awe.
“QUIET DAMN IT-!” the Doctor’s voice suddenly bellows, barging down the halls with all its echo, “Oh, but do invite me…” she chuckles, passing the door and walking off.
“Already have.”
“I anticipate… the greatest chaos and insanity bathed in eternal joy,” I say.
“Indeed,” Aefanyl concurs.
“I’ll… take a small leave now,” I muse, nodding to them all, “Cherry, you may follow if you desire.”
“E-Eh? Leaving already? Where to?”
“The roof. I wish to savour the fading sunset.”
“Okay!”
“Blaze, Logos, I shall one day revel in the screeches of plastic wheels tearing apart the metal of Rhodes.”
“You got it!”
“Of course, later then,” he waves.
With that, I find Cherry’s hand weaving onto my arm as we leave the canteen. She’s gracefully hanging on now as her eyes waver around the landship here and there.
“What’s that?” she points.
“A crossbow.”
A certain Liberi woman flicks her eyes to the girl. A stoic gaze and short of emotion.
Greythroat.
“W-Woah… I’ve seen those before…”
“Mm… Yes, weapons of war.”
“I dunno, I really… really like machines. A-And war things… b-but… they do really bad things.”
“You can respect a power from a distance without you yourself being part of its formation.”
“Woah… You speak so… large…”
“Grandiose?”
“That… word…?”
“It means… magnificent, ambitious…”
“… Cool…”
“The Victorian language spans a great deal of words. And just one language is not the limit of expression. Lateran, Sargonian, Kazdelian… You will find words of various meaning and syntax, context and parsing… yet my knowledge only spreads to Victorian.”
She blinks a few times before tilting her neck to me, as if entirely bewildered.
“I like machines!”
“And that too is an art of its own.”
“Your gun… it’s really cool… and pretty!”
“I can see that,” I nod, flipping it between my hands.
“Can I carry it?”
“It’s too heavy for you. Maybe in a few months when you’re healthier.”
“Hmph…” she pouts, puffing her cheeks, “Just you wait! One day I’ll become the strongest of your friends! Of Cecelia and Olivia!”
“I look forwards to it,” I add.
“Ah-!“
She trips on nothing, suddenly shoving all her weight onto me but not falling as I hold her steadfast in pure reflex.
The moment her feet find stability again, I softly let my grasp away as her own grip tightens ever more.
“S-Sorry…” she whimpers.
“It’s fine. You don’t control your illness nor when it strikes. Nerina’s much the same.”
“She’s Infected… But she’s old! And pretty… Do you think I can be like her?”
I blink, recalling what Gavial had told me. That she might not even pass adulthood due to her high Oripathy rates.
I sigh.
“Giocatore…?”
I lower my gaze to her as we halt right by the stairs leading to heaven’s view.
“Do you wish to live in blissful lies or in pain-stricken truth?”
“Truth,” she spits out, too quickly for someone her age, “… Always, truth.”
I nod to her.
“Because… because that’s what my parents would have wanted… Wanted me to live… truthfully to who I am, regardless of what I like or love!” she shouts, setting her foot down, “I-If I’m a girl and like machines and weapons th-that’s okay! A-And if something hurts I’d rather know that th-than live… live thinking… otherwise.”
… Profound.
“If… if a friend hates me… but just… lies to… to not hurt… my feelings or something… I-I want them to tell me! Because I can’t stand… people that lie.”
“Then I will not lie to you, ever, Cherry,” I set forth, “I am… unsure if you will live to that age. But I am sure of one thing: that I shall forever lead you as far as I can.”
“A-Ah… T-Thank you then-!” she gasps, happily, “Let’s go to the roof! Here I can lead you!”
“Then do so,” I offer, letting her take the path ahead.
So she does, pushing the door open with all her might as it sighs open, revealing that set of stairs up towards the top. Step by step, she drags me along, giggling a bit, turning back to me every now again with those eyes of brown sparkle like polished wood.
Her hazel hair flaps gently with the thin sunset breeze as it whips along my skin, granting me the grace of a slight cold.
Up, and up… until we’ve reached the roof. She shoves the door apart as I step through, taking me right to a railing overlooking the setting sun.
A watercolour blend of amber, rose, and honey, swirling together in a mosaic of layers upon layers paints the sky from horizon to heaven. The light winds continue being so, tossing my jacket about ever so slightly while wafting through Cherry’s ears and hair.
“Isn’t that beautiful?” she states, letting go and resting against the railing, “It’s so…”
“Gorgeous, I can see that.”
“My favourite colour is blue,” she shrugs, “Like cornflowers! The… lighter blues, I think… It’s the colour of my dress!” she grins, lifting a segment of the garment up to show me.
“I see. I believe it suits you nicely.”
“Thank you… This one… Orchid made it for me! It’s… it’s very comfortable.”
“Did you thank her?”
“O-Of course!”
“That’s good,” I state, raising my hand to her head but not quite lowering it, “May I?”
“O-Oh… uhm, yes,” she shyly confirms.
The hand lowers, touching her head and rubbing along her fur and hair rather slowly and gently.
“Mm… hehe… warm!”
Warm… Yes, that’s what this light feels like.
<Augmented Sankta, P8-621.>
<What are you doing?>
<This isn’t your order. At all. This hinders.>
<What possibly made you think this would help the destruction of the demons?!>
A splitting… ravine forms in my mind, as if my consciousness had been rendered apart. My head fogs and my balance wanes.
“G-Giocatore?”
<You are formed to destroy DEMONS.>
<Not to mend seedlings between your fingers.>
<… Dare I reinstate your protocols?>
<Reinforce the walls?>
<Remind you of your reason of existence?!>
… You need not remind me of anything.
I want to carve a path astray from the blade I was forged as.
Because… I want to live beyond words.
Beyond dreams.
Beyond ideals.
I… want to live…
… as a human.
<INSOLENT AND IMPERFECT SOLDIER-!>
All of a sudden, my thoughts detonate into a million shards.
My body collapses as my legs abruptly fail.
“GIOCATORE-!”
I fall, yet not a second of pain touches my nerves. I feel my body swaying to the side as electricity blazes my veins.
A paralyzing, punishing strike, searing my excuse to move ahead. To dare to look ahead, this is my punishment.
To dare to be human, this is my punishment.
To dare to exist… this is my punishment.
The sin of existence cannot be extinguished or undone, isn’t that right?
<Undoubtably so.>
<Your order… your purpose… is to serve. To fight. To destroy.>
<And nothing else.>
… Of… course.
“Giocatore-! PLEASE-!”
I feel someone’s hands- No, her hands, wrap around my neck.
Still, I fall.
She tries to pull me up.
Still, I fall.
She tries to halt my fall.
Still, I fall.
… And so I keep… spiraling.
Cascading, plummeting, drowning…
… Until all that surrounds me is an eternal sea of shadows before suddenly flashing into that garden of unfettered, limitless flowers.
In all directions. Lotuses, cyclamens, and zinnias. A mosaic of blue, red, and black.
And Ahava between it all…
I stab my hand out, my palm, grasping to her form. Her dress is mere inches from my fingers but-
-Something breaks my fall. It’s… hard. And…
My eyes… force themselves apart. Wincing, twitching.
“C… Cherry?”
Her eyes are… swollen. Red. Rivers of tears run from her eyes to her cheeks, droplets falling like rain itself atop my face.
“You…”
Her mouth quivers. Sorrow floods from its edges as… ‘pain’ bleeds from her words.
Pain…. This pain… is akin to Nerina and Leggera’s… I think.
Sorrow. Yes, that’s… what it is.
My head is resting on her dress. Grunting, I finally sit up, leaning back against the railing before gazing at the sky.
The sun’s moved a bit deeper. It’s a bit darker and a bit colder.
“What happened?”
“W-Well y-you fell an… and… I tried pulling you up but I couldn’t-! S-So I… I just tried to… not make your head hit the ground…”
She grips her wrist tightly.
“Show me your arm.”
“E-Eh? I-It’s… It’s fine…”
“… Please, show me your arm.”
This time, she looks away before sticking her thin arm to me.
A bruise, wide, and quickly forming on her wrist and hand.
“Did… you… You threw your body into the…”
I gaze at the dress covering her knees. It’s lightly torn apart, the blue scrubbed, and a little faded.
“You threw yourself to the ground and used your arm to brace my head. Cherry, that’s extremely dangerous for someone of your health.”
“I-I just wa-wanted to…”
“I… am not blaming you,” I attempt to brace, “I realize you… intended to help. But…”
… No.
No matter how I word this, she will see it as blame.
“… Never mind. You did nothing wrong, and you tried your best. For that, you deserve praise,” I reset, “Thank you for protecting me.”
“… Ah,” she gasps, blinking back some tears, “Y-You were asleep for… for ten minutes…”
“I see…”
“You weren’t breathing!”
“… I’m sorry for concerning you.”
“N… No it-it’s… it’s alright… You’re alright now, yes?”
“I am.”
“T-Then that’s what matters!”
“… You are right.”
I shake my head and rise back to my feet before gazing at Cherry.
“Assistance?”
“O-Oh… y-yes. My legs hurt… a lot… and my arm does too…” she whines.
“Very well.”
I return to the ground before gently wrapping my arms around her and lifting her into my grasp, one arm beneath her knees and the other under her neck.
“We’ll go to the medical area and get you the treatment needed and I’ll look into this… faint,” I murmur, moving back down to the landship and through its halls.
“Y-Yeah, that sounds good!”
“I’m glad you didn’t injure yourself more.”
“M… Mh… So-Sorry…”
“No, it’s alright. But please, care for your body more. It’s more fragile, and mine will sustain far more damage before any tangible injure.”
“O… Okay!”
“Good. But either way, thank you for doing so. For risking yourself for me.”
“Y-You’re… you’re welcome!”
She quickly gazes at me with a little smile before wiping the tears away with her good arm. Her cheeks fill with a slight amount of warmth as she leans against my chest. Second by second, her eyes flicker down, eyelids sealing shut and her breath steadying.
“Then rest well, dear saviour…”
In all but a few moments, she soundly enters a dreamland as a dot of warmth begins to seep through my hands and arms.
Her lips twitch just the slightest, uttering a single word.
“… Warm…”
And then she smiles ever so slightly again.