An Aurrian winter’s thunderstorm raged outside, but the nearly freezing raindrops were only audible on the roof and through the chamber during the sporadic and brief lulls in an ongoing raucous debate. This was the sixth emergency session of the year, and it was perhaps the most heated. The twin disasters at City D and Z had brought a feeling of desperation to the upper echelons of the Guard, not felt in generations.

  “Onasia itself may be on the precipice,” one of X’s three senators said when he had a moment to speak, his two colleagues sharing his box nodding in agreement. “X is the only City on the continent fully governed by the Guard, and I fear an assault against us is inevitable.”

  Two of City F’s senators had refused to attend meetings for the duration of the war, instead focusing on trying to keep the peace within a City that had come to detest the Guard. In turn, the lone senator who still supported the ruling power hadn’t left City A in many years.

  “With F’s blockade across Onasia’s southern waters, our ability to counterattack is…” He sighed and collected his thoughts. “We’d officially go to war with my City just trying to stage a landing. Even Tillethy’s mighty naval forces, in a best-case scenario, would possibly lose half its ships.”

  “We’re losing the confidence of our farming guilds,” V’s older female security councilor reported. “A number already support the Angels, and the rest are fed up with the constant raids. They believe we can’t protect them, and honestly, we’ve done a poor job. We need more airships.”

  “First bolster your security on the ground!” U’s younger senator replied angrily. “Our factories are already at maximum capacity simply replacing the airships we’re losing every day! We can’t divert orders to V when we can’t even keep up on the frontline’s defenses.”

  “D lost every single one of its airships…” the City’s still-shaken elderly senator added. “We never got replacements. What could we do?”

  “D was an inevitable loss,” Z’s senator, dressed in black, fired back. “We’ve not discussed Z nearly enough, which came as a complete surprise. Block 9’s riot still isn’t fully under control, and details remain unclear.”

  The Aurrian senate was made up of three senators from every City and their security councilor, who lead the Guard’s policing operations. And Flentek, the senate chancellor, had overseen the central government for two decades, which most considered to be far too long a tenure.

  After he cleared his throat, Gunther Flentek spoke from the center rostrum, “On that, I open the floor to our head pretorian and apostle, William Drides, to explain the situation as it transpired at Z.”

  Drides left the table that he was sharing with Queen Pristil, Cadius, and Irietté, and proceeded to the center of the senate floor, dressed in his best. A hush fell in the building as he looked around at all the politicians, most of whom he despised but still had to grudgingly work with.

  He began his prepared, untruthful statement, “In light of Gauss Lenal’s sudden death in W, I had decided to seek out a replacement mind pretorian, in hopes that he may be able to sever the connection that what remains of the former apostle, Caeden Laurre, shares with the Nolland twins. Following an evaluation, of course…” He eyed Pristil, who glared back. “I was not set on Rodrick Vermer, I assure you—but I…” he paused and waited for the disapproving murmurs to cease, “… chose to at least see for myself if he was beyond treatment. Upon finding him, I had my doubts.

  “Then a call from the palace came in, telling Warden Mesif to not let Vermer out of his cell. Upon hearing this, Mesif proclaimed his support for me over the Queen, released Vermer, and then opened all of Block 9’s cells as an act of rebellion, or perhaps to disguise Vermer’s release for my benefit in some way. Personally, I think the time in Z just drove him mad.”

  “Are we supposed to believe this?” one of Z’s senators was the first to respond above a quiet ruckus. “Mesif was a respectable warden. Yes, his admiration of you was publicly known, but he would never…”

  “All we have is your word,” the youngest of Z’s senators replied. “And where is Vermer now, Mr. Drides? In proper restraints, I hope.”

  “He willingly came with us, back to A, and is undergoing a proper evaluation. Representatives of Z, you must understand that Vermer was the victim of a disproportionate degree of… reformation. Before I was forced to take him down, Mesif admitted that he enjoyed torturing Vermer. He saw his crimes and relationship with Draqium as acts that deserved the extra attention. Much of Vermer’s mental state can be attributed to his treatment at Z, and personally, I believe he still deserves a chance at recovery.”

  Z’s senators clearly did not appreciate the accusations, but as Drides read the room and its reactions, he again saw the growing support that he had received over the course of the war. Well over half of the delegates seemed to be ready to take his side once more. As the night’s verbal infighting escalated, Flentek was forced to bang his gavel.

  “There will be time for a proper tribunal on this,” he told everyone. “We’re not here to investigate the situation at Z; what is paramount is our reaction to D’s fall. Commanders Terront, Fordein, and Savienth are all awaiting our decisions on how to proceed.”

  Having waited patiently for a long time and seeing this as a chance to go for the kill, Drides replied, “Chancellor Flentek, few of the war decisions that have come out of this senate have succeeded. We water down potentially brilliant ideas, and the vision of every new campaign ends up muddled. I believe it is time for a different approach. My pretorian, Phisa Camryde, has come up with a brilliant maneuver ready to move past its planning stages. And with the efforts of Renek and Anneise, we are in a position to commit the might of Onasia’s forces to this proposal.”

  “Mr. Drides, you do not run our military.”

  “And what good has that fact done us so far? I’m not trying to wield supreme decision-making power, Chancellor, but I believe that I have at least earned the right for our idea to be properly discussed.”

  Flentek, having never liked or trusted Drides, unsurprisingly admonished him once again, “Pretorians have never had legislative or executive power in this chamber, and given that you have still not proven than Lontonkon’s sinister intentions don’t continue through you, as mighty an apostle you may be… No, I will not give you the floor.”

  “That’s a shame… You’re out of ideas, and yet you won’t listen to new ones. You’re bringing the Guard to the brink of ruin, sir.”

  The senate reacted with more murmurs, and Cadius watched as Pristil got to her feet, but remained silent. She knew she was about to see some major confrontation, long overdue.

  Flentek retorted, “I’m going to forget that I heard that—”

  “Please don’t. As you said, I don’t have much power here, but I can certainly make suggestions. And I suggest… for the sake of Aurra, that we move towards a vote of no confidence concerning your leadership.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “No,” Drides gestured towards the delegates, “but they can.” Amid growing, heated discussions behind him, Drides made his case, “If this senate sees what I have, then they should acknowledge that you’ve been an ineffective leader, and other than his reprehensible purging efforts, you’ve only continued Lontonkon’s failed policies.”

  “Apostle, I’m warning you—”

  “Until we have a proper vote for a new leader, I recommend that you are replaced in the interim by A’s senior senator, Viterus Luna,” he said and turned to see her, with Pristil’s surprised expression also in his view.

  Luna stood from her seat to speak, but didn’t find the words.

  In her eighties and one of the oldest senators in the room, she was a venerable, intelligent lion with many allies, and had been Pristil’s mother’s retainer, advisor, and guardian in secret. When it came to light that she had given up her freedom to take care of Lontonkon’s hidden-away half-sister, she became even more respected, and she had been a close friend to Pristil as well. If Drides’ play did pan out, as he expected it to, her nomination as interim Chancellor was already secured. And judging by the reactions in the room, many delegates would rather have her guide them, even if just for a week or two, than have to suffer another day under Flentek.

  “What’s he trying to accomplish?” Pristil asked Irietté quietly.

  Once his voice could be heard again over the chatter, Drides added, “Furthermore, I would nominate Arthur Camryde as official successor. His support of the military and connections with all three divisions would bring the kind of informed decision-making we need.”

  From his booth, Arthur looked around the chamber in surprise of the sudden proposal. For a moment, Drides’ words hung in the tense air of the chamber. But it wasn’t long before the first delegate fearlessly spoke.

  N’s security councilor, who had taken Delqua’s old job years ago, was the next to stand up. He had a small stature, but could project his voice, and his words ignited the chamber.

  “I call for a vote of no confidence again Chancellor Flentek.”

  G’s four delegates, all of whom had been forced out of their home early in the war when the Angels made the City their stronghold, were the next to express their disapproval of Flentek. Nearly half the chamber, many of which were stalwarts who still approved of the man, showed disbelief as the sudden vote caught fire. One by one, people stood, and the status quo of Aurra, the end of a sturdy chain that began centuries ago, broke apart.

  The final vote: two absent, sixty-five in favor, thirty-seven against. Arthur displayed his reluctance in voting against Flentek, while the possible interim chancellor, Ms. Luna, still supported him. In the end, the result was devastating for the typically conservative ruling body of Aurra, and the numbers surprised even Drides. At this point, he realized he may have been able to pull off the feat one or even two years ago.

  Flentek didn’t know what to say, and simply adjourned the session so that he could confer with several senior senators, Luna and Mr. Camryde included, while the chamber fell into further disarray.

  “What did you just do…?” Pristil asked Drides as he passed by.

  He spoke without making eye contact, “Not all that much, actually. From the sound of it… they all just needed a little push."

  “I see why you never sought the throne yourself,” Cadius got in the final word as Drides left the chamber. “You do enough damage without it.”

  Arthur was not pleased by the development, and he made that point across clearly in his office several hours later, once the shock wave of the night had seemingly dissipated just a little.

  “What are you doing, William?” Arthur shouted in frustration and took another swig of his drink, the ice clattering around nearly enough to break the glass. “Flentek may have had this coming, but why me? I have no desire to be the chancellor, but even if I decline in front of everyone, do you have any idea how much oversight you just put on my family? It wasn’t your place to make an appointment suggestion. And now the investigations that will come down on me… And us! If they learn of our deal…”

  “I thought you would’ve been happy for a shot at the top,” Drides said calmly from one of Arthur’s leather chairs.

  “My power comes from… Well, you know how I’ve operated my side projects for years, in secrecy. How would I do any of that if I’m placed in a position where all eyes are on me? As if this moment, I might not even have a private channel directly with Fordein anymore.”

  “As of now, I doubt you would have the votes, and you’re likely to be contested. They may even want to make Luna chancellor depending on her candor alone. And you don’t have many friends in the senate.”

  “So, then why…”

  “Your dealings with Fordein will soon be explainable, and your daughter is about to make a name for herself. There is a joint operation coming up, between both the Tillethy and Onasian Guardsmen. She will lead an assault that the senate will see as a first step to taking back Onasia. Then you’ll be seen as the brilliant politician who helped make it happen.”

  “How… How certain are you that this will succeed?”

  “Are you beginning to see the stars in your eyes, Arthur? I told you, if you work with me, I can make things happen for you. Forget your petty side dealings. Take your chance, and I’ll see to it that you become a leader people will actually remember. I only ask that you place your trust in me.”

  Mr. Camryde downed the rest of his drink, waited for his heartbeat to return to normal, and turned and asked, “At least give me a date. When can I expect to see this… plan of hers? I need to create a schedule for the inquiries, so I have time to move some things around.”

  Drides stood up, eyed the liquor bottle and empty glass on Arthur’s desk, and finally took up his offer, pouring himself a single sip’s worth.

  “Consider it a Christmas present.” He scorched his throat with the whiskey before heading to the door and adding, “We’ll go far, Arthur.”

  “Maybe. But I’m getting tired of the surprises, Will.”

  As Milla waited on the other side of her father’s desk, he reached the end of the lengthy headlining article on the second page of C’s daily newspaper. Above a black and white picture of arguing senators, were large bold letters reading, “SENATE IN DISARRAY – VITERUS LUNA TAKES CONTROL”. He only ever read the paper if the news was big enough, instead usually relying on his staff to summarize recent events.

  “I wish I could understand what this means,” he said with a sigh. He folded the paper, dropped it on his desk, and got back to eating the now-cold second half of his omelet with a fork and knife. “Mind keeps jumping to conclusions, then I second guess myself. Certainly didn’t expect it. I haven’t thought much about the senate in years; only the commanders, Pristil, and the pretorians. They barely ever seem to have a presence.”

  “We know so little of what’s discussed in that chamber,” Milla replied. “Isn’t that a problem, even if their meaningful decisions are few?”

  “The senate has barely changed since you were Queen, Milla. I never expected it to change. Now it… possibly might.”

  “I can’t even call it a ‘senate’ myself.” She crossed her arms and fell back into her chair. “It never evolved past the first concept of the system, back from the ancient Greeks. The only people that get to actually vote for any of those ‘representatives’ are nobles and military officers.”

  “Luna, though, brief as her reign may be…” Leovyn delved into some thought. “She’s one of the very few people who would’ve known Zandri while she was alive. I wish I could have a chat with her.”

  “I wonder what she thinks of Rayna. She must at least be aware of her. And I’m getting worried about her, almost as much as Garder…”

  “But she hasn’t shown any signs of remembering her past life.”

  “No, not yet, but… Dad, right now, I just want to talk about Garder. You’ve kept him locked up for three days. This is the point where he either needs to start lengthy treatment, or you let him out.”

  “I agree whole-heartedly.” He quickly finished his breakfast and stood from his chair. “We were about to go see him, in fact. This news just caused a minor delay. He should be awake by now.”

  “Wait, is he seriously… okay?”

  “He didn’t like what we did to him, nor the tests, and he was quite reluctant to show us his… missing eye, but yes, I’m approving his release.”

  “So… he’s all right…?”

  “War-worn, aged, but yes, he’s still himself.”

  “But I’ve never heard anyone’s inner voice change so much…” Milla continued as she began following him into the hall.

  “You haven’t heard it in at least five years. Mentally, he is in a different place. PTSD, that sort of thing. Treatable; manageable.”

  “I… I’m going to trust you on this, but I’m still concerned.”

  “Oh, yes, there are still things to be concerned about, and he’ll need to be monitored and take medicine, but it is still manageable.”

  “I hope you’re not just following Commander Sasoire’s want to keep him in the field as much as possible, or just see him as a weapon.”

  “Of course not. Milla, I held him as a baby in my arms, the same I did with you. He’s still my son. If I could choose, he’d not fight at all.”

  They arrived at the clinic, where Garder was contained within a glass cell, hooked up to an IV and monitoring equipment. Temki and Norria were both nearby, working at lab stations, while the burrow’s elderly doctor finished printing Garder’s final results for the records.

  “He’s doing well,” she said from her terminal. “One last dosage, and he’s free to go. I recommend a hearty meal.”

  “Garder…” Milla murmured and approached the glass.

  Only dressed in a hospital gown instead of the synthesized leather and small segments of armor that rarely ever left his back, she was able to see more of the muscle mass he had gained over the years, along with all the many battle scars. He looked up at her with his one good eye, and then down again—but his brief stare held no hint of malice for what she did.

  “He actually looks better than when we first put him in there,” Leovyn said. “A few good meals and nights of sleep really helped.”

  “And his eye…?” Milla asked.

  “He was right… That scar runs straight through where it used to be. He still won’t talk about when he got it exactly—not that it’s impossible to ask around—but I don’t think it was from the bombing in T.”

  Though she still wasn’t thoroughly convinced that he was well, Milla gave into Leovyn’s word with a long sigh of relief.

  “Okay. I’m going to have Phoebe make a large breakfast for the two of us and wait to share it with him. Just the start of an apology.”

  “He’ll forgive us, Milla. If he hasn’t already.”

  “You better be right about that,” she said and left the room.

  Once she was gone behind a closed door, Leovyn looked at the doctor, who looked back at her only superior incredulously. He breathed out a shaken huff as Temki approached and placed his hand on the glass. With his paradigm strength mind abilities able to partially surpass the burrow’s alchemagi inhibitor field, he could sense Leovyn’s inner conflict.

  “I hope this lie is worth it…” he told the burrow’s director and gazed at Garder, who was staring at the floor. “I’m sure of what I felt.”

  “Anguish. I know. But he’s one of only two people that could take down Drides if they should meet again. He can’t be kept locked up.”

  “Ever since I learned about gambling, sir, I’ve tried to avoid it.”

  Milla, waiting restlessly in the kitchen, struggled to redirect her thoughts even as the smells of Phoebe’s delicious and last morning meal of the day wafted into her senses. She couldn’t prepare herself, no matter how hard she tried, for what Garder might have to say.

  “It doesn’t do you any good to worry,” Rayna’s mother told her from the stove. “I know, it’s a difficult lesson, even across lifetimes, but…”

  Hilden, the only other one in the room, added optimistically, “You and Garder will work it out. Family almost always does.”

  “Didn’t you run away from your own?” Milla asked her.

  “Well, yes, but my circumstances were very difficult.” She rubbed her belly again. “But I hope to have the chance to restart once they’re born. Of course, I’ve yet to meet Garder, but from what I’ve heard…” she stopped herself as he entered the room, dressed in fresh, light clothing.

  He looked at the three faces, then proceeded to the table without a sound and landed in the chair opposite Milla with a thud. Phoebe returned to her cooking to finish up, and was—thankfully—able to bring two full servings over before the silence between the siblings became poisonous.

  “Garder, it’s good to see you again,” Phoebe said as she laid down a fork and knife for him. “Rayna always had a lot of questions about you, never missed a story… Orange juice or coffee, dear?”

  He shrugged and muttered, “Both.”

  “Tea, please,” Milla replied.

  “Where’s Verim?” Garder asked Milla as Phoebe tended to the drinks—speaking to her sooner than she expected.

  “He went back up after the first night. Said he couldn’t stay in a place without windows for very long. And I’m sure he wants to be among the first to see Shin again. She’s… due back shortly, I believe.”

  “Oh. Yeah… Guess he’d hate it down here…” He sliced into his syrup-drenched toast and took a bite. “I don’t hate you, Milla.”

  “Hm?” was all she could reply with, the drinks now on the table.

  “I was angry when I woke up, yeah, but honestly… I’ve been scaring myself for years. Wondering why everyone on the Red Tenor took me so lightly, never took any precautions. Just treated me as an animal ready to be uncaged and dropped on a battlefield.”

  “I’m sure they were doing risk assessments behind the scenes.”

  “Maybe. But it never felt that way. Honestly, and don’t tell her this, but every time I would come close to losing myself… I just thought of Sasoire. I never wanted to scare or disappoint her, too much. I understand that she’s a respected officer with many lifetimes behind her, but to me, I just mostly see a very smart kid I don’t want to lose my cool around.”

  “Mm. Well, whatever’s been working for you.”

  “What about you? Do you have to resist Caeden that much?”

  “He doesn’t try to come out that often.”

  “Because you haven’t had nearly as many scraps as I have…”

  Phoebe finished cleaning up and left with Hilden, leaving the twins completely alone for the first time in five years.

  Working on his last morsels, Garder spoke up again, “Where do you think we’d be if all of this didn’t happen? I’ve been meaning to ask for some time. If Rivia never summoned us that day, but even if the war went ahead and began without us… You wanted to move to B, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. Once. But if there were still a war? Hm… Suppose it’s possible the Guard or even Lontonkon might’ve called me to A, put me in some advisory panel, or something else full of former royalty and military commanders. I wouldn’t have known the truth, about the Fragmented City or Hold’s kingdom, so… I probably would’ve reluctantly aided the Guard.”

  “I had to ask you, because I never actually think of that alternate world myself. All my thoughts go to regrets, or surviving to the next day.”

  “I think… You would have kept being an independent knight, and had just stayed in N, helping people, finding your way in this life. You’d be safe, at least. Home’s managed to keep the war away all this time. But I hope you don’t have too many regrets at once, Garder.”

  “No… No, they’re usually just replaced by the newest few. But I’ve been pretty pissed at myself for nearly getting everyone killed by Lenal. I had forgotten what it was like to lose. He had us, Milla. He could have easily stayed there and finished us off. I never should’ve given him a chance.”

  “Not everything falls on you.”

  “It doesn’t? I know Dad’s just letting me back out because of the things only the two of us are capable of. If I were just any other soldier…”

  “Yeah, but there are also millions of others fighting up there, and all of our friends. And with your past experiences in wars… You must think it’s up to you alone to stay alive, or to, I don’t know, win this one.”

  If Garder had anything to add, it didn’t come out in time—Leovyn had just appeared in the kitchen doorway, where he crossed his arms and looked at his children for a moment, perhaps considering joining them.

  Instead, he announced plainly, “Rivia’s back. The paradigms and the other young commanders are with him. Shin, too. We’re about to have our first full council meeting in a while. We should go up with the kids.”

  Milla breathed out. “Well. Big day. Maybe another turning point.”

  Leaving their empty plates behind, they joined Leovyn, who in the first time in years was trembling a bit and lusting for a cigarette.

  The twins, Leovyn, Wendell, and the burrow’s youth squad were the last to enter Pangs’ office, which was already packed full of people. It was a sight indicative of a grand reunion, with a few of its attendees new to the tower, like Sasoire and Menin. Pangs stopped one of his many greetings mid-sentence to turn and watch the Nollands enter, as did all the others.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The entire war council, for the first time in over two years, was in one room again. Xavier, Tabi and Masayuki flanked Rivia, who looked as ragged and aged as ever—only Pangs, Tess, and Viktor were visibly older. Osk was speaking with Hekens near the window, while Simon was going over some papers with Commander Menin. Sasoire was speaking with Daschel and the final two other young officers.

  Nym Yvell, who helped oversee the provisional forces, smaller operations, and managed the back line and supply logistics, was a small eleven-year-old with long red hair who often considered herself overworked and underappreciated. At the moment, she was drinking what was likely already her third coffee of the day. Next to her was a boy one year her senior, Damien Jaraphim, who led Angel naval operations and was himself a senior officer in the Britain’s Royal Navy just twenty years ago.

  The twins spotted Verim last, just as Shin, busy catching up with him, turned to acknowledge the pair. She appeared far healthier than when Milla had last seen her, looking decades longer—but still a distance away from when they had first met. And her hair was now a dark gray instead of a solid black; the genetic damage could only be turned back so much.

  “She made it back…” Milla sighed in relief, and told Garder, “She was at death’s door not long ago.”

  “Her hair’s starting to look like Escellé’s…”

  Shin finished her conversation with Verim, squeezed his shoulder, and strode up to the twins, her katana on her back again where it belonged.

  “Garder,” she greeted him, after giving Wendell a smile first. “Time has not been kind to you, either, I see.”

  “Still alive, though.”

  “Not always a blessing.” She winced as phantom pain struck her and massaged the muscles in her right arm. “I can still feel so much…”

  “How was N?” Milla asked her.

  “Hm, surprisingly frozen in time. Na?ve, in a way. War will hit it sooner or later. Especially if we hold onto D this time and the Guard tries to do… something elsewhere.”

  Rivia stepped closer to them, and studied Garder before he said anything. Milla, he had seen more recently. He then eyed Leovyn, who simply looked back at his old, cross-lifetime friend and nodded.

  “Garder,” the general said, “holding things together?”

  “Feels like just barely, some days. Sir.”

  Rivia turned to the youth squad. “And Lechi, Norria, Temki… I hope that growing up in the burrow hasn’t been too tedious.”

  “It’s all right,” Norria replied. “Feels safe. And we spend a lot of time in C. Infinitely better than Old J, in any case.”

  “I never was able to spend much time down there. I’ve always felt… like I’m suddenly cut-off and ineffective as a leader, whenever I’m in some place too isolated and protected. Even being in G makes me restless.”

  After a yawn and a sip of her coffee, Yvell replied, “I need to get out more. Never envisioned myself stuck in some office in G, drying out my retinas with paperwork, when they asked me to do this…”

  “You were the commander of Mightoria’s Guard at one point, weren’t you?” Milla asked her.

  “Three lives ago. And it was mostly… the same thing.”

  “Your work is greatly appreciated, have no doubt,” Tabi told her. “Whenever orders come down the pipe from you, I know it’ll be a smooth operation. Always valued a strategist perfectionist.”

  “Thank you, Feretta…” She yawned again. “Compliments help.”

  After looking around at the mass of thinkers and fighters in the room again, Rivia said with a wistful sigh, “What the Guard wouldn’t give to drop a bomb on this building right now… Ah, Pangs, we should begin.”

  Pangs nodded, took a key from his desk, and left his chair to unlock the sliding doors in his office that led to the large conference chamber, and C’s central war room. There were extra chairs at the table today to accommodate the visiting commanders. Garder watched as the members of the council filed in, with Shin and Leovyn joining for the first time in many months—and he was surprised when Rivia waved him over.

  “Garder, please, join us. You’ve certainly earned a place.”

  “I, uh…” He tried to find the right words. “I’ve never really liked being in the room where decisions are made. Sir…”

  “I understand that, but today, I’m asking. So, come along. And Mr. Thalst, is your report ready to be shown?”

  After double checking that the folder under his arm was still there, Simon nodded and joined the council. Once everyone was inside the room —aside from the youth squad, Xavier, Verim, and Wendell—Pangs closed the sliding doors and lowered the blinds to reduce the impact of the early sun. Space was now at a premium around the table, and Garder somehow found himself sitting between Sasoire and Daschel, both of them too close for his comfort. He had no idea how long the meeting would last, but had already decided to not prolong it any further by speaking up himself.

  “Rivia, are we ready?” Pangs asked from one end of the table.

  Aside from Simon, the supreme commander was the last standing, as he was taking in the view of the City before moving onto the room itself.

  After a deep breath, he replied, “As nice and secure as G is… I do miss our hours in here. We made so many important decisions in the early days, shaped the course of this war… I wasn’t sure if I’d return. Ah, well, anyway…” He took his seat at the other end of the table, farthest from the doors. “We have many things on our docket, and I expect that I should return to D within four to five days. Many decisions to be made, busy days ahead. Organizing our unification so we can advance forward as a new, stronger force will make up the bulk of our talks, but first, Mr. Thalst…”

  “Yes, thank you, Rivia,” Simon said, then opened his folder and began to pass around copies of two stapled documents to everyone. “I’ll make this quick, as I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

  A black and white photograph made up the first page of the report, and on the back were a few simple paragraphs and data points about the place in the image and the suggested course of action.

  “What… are we looking at here?” Osk questioned.

  Everyone studied the photo, taken at night and from a low altitude spying aircraft—maybe nothing more than a chariot flying on the edge of the site’s zone of exclusion. Shown was a peculiar and large tower, standing above an aircraft graveyard likely on the outskirts of Y. It was pyramidal in shape, but the contrast in the night shot meant that little of its detail could be made out, other than some distinctive humps on the two visible sides of the triangular structure. It had to be at least five hundred feet tall.

  “We have few contacts in Y, and outside knowledge is minimal,” Simon explained. “So, intel is always hard to come by from there. What we do know is that the City’s defenses have increased ten-fold in the past four months, there is evidence of an industrial-scale reroute of metal and heavy synthids, possible slave labor—common for the City—and… unconfirmed reports that Commander Fordein has been stationed there for two or more months. It’s easy to see how this tower could just be a fortification, but why would it be so heavily guarded, and in a very non-critical area? Pangs and I agree that it needs to be investigated firsthand, as we believe it’s either a new weapon manufacturing site, or, and this is my theory… perhaps even some sort of new weapon itself.”

  There were murmurs and some chin-scratching in the room.

  Tess was the first to ask, “And what do you suggest?”

  “For now, we get two or three people out there, nothing loud, just to perform some recon. As you can see, there are still construction cranes near the structure, so it isn’t complete yet. Transport may prove difficult, though. We don’t have the Mezik L right now, and…”

  Osk finished for him, “And a scroll may be too risky to use in this case, if we even have anyone with memories of Y to begin with. We may have to go in slow, through the back channels, just to get in quietly.”

  “I have a few small, quick, quiet boats that can help with that,” Jaraphim replied. “But, when stealth is a priority, so is proper planning.”

  “Yes…” Rivia said and flipped over his copy of the documents. “Thank you, Mr. Thalst. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  Simon said his goodbye to everyone and left the room, at which point Hekens asked, “Rivia, I’m immediately curious, assuming that this restructuring and unification between C’s Angels, the burrow, and the Greater Angel Alliance is a success, what would be its first campaign?”

  He didn’t have to think about his response. “Upon the assurance that we remain a functional power, we would march on X and take this continent from the Guard. I expect V and the farming guilds to fall in line without heavy intervention, at which point we could set our sights on K.”

  “I’d… be careful with the timing of that,” Daschel advised. “We move too soon on K, and it may generate feelings that could boost Mr. Camryde. I don’t think we’d want that war hawk as Chancellor.”

  “I agree,” Leovyn replied. “Granted, if he becomes a worse leader than Flentek we may stand to benefit, but it’s a matter worth discussing.”

  “We have other topics to get through, as well,” Rivia continued. “Earth, the prison riot in Z, and what can be done to stem this… tragic pipeline bringing Evirtide students into war. I once considered the school’s headmaster a friend, and perhaps if I could just get close to him…”

  “That’s far too much of a risk,” Tess responded. “I know we have to do something in M, and the alchemagists being put on the field have cost us many lives… But trying to get an audience with him in that school?”

  Hekens hesitantly added, “I’ve heard that some students are starting to rebel. Perhaps… if Onasia does fall, and more students want an end to the war, Headmaster Quinlin may be more open to a chat.”

  Rivia said with reluctance, “Agreed, we should wait. The incident in W with Nish Formel is another matter to cover, as are the unusual and large troop movements in Mightoria. You… have all been made aware, right?”

  “Ah, I was going to bring that up,” Pangs said. “Yes, we’ve learned of mass infantry movement in L, and a fleet building up near R. Possibly connected. Something we need to keep an eye on.”

  “My guess would be an invasion force for Onasia,” Viktor replied.

  “An obvious assumption,” Rivia said. “But where would they hope to land? In any case, we need to begin. Garder, feel free to speak up.”

  Garder, sunken into his chair, felt like he had nothing to add. He was more curious about how much time his superiors could waste.

  With the sun setting and the first stars above them, Lechi left the table she was sharing with her friends to retrieve the meals waiting for them at the outdoor restaurant’s counter. Most of the other tables were empty, as was the nearby plaza that at one point in the past hosted plant life. Only a few of C’s last remaining businessmen and families were out eating this evening, and Wendell, Verim, and Xavier—all of them sharing war stories—already had their food at a table close to the youth squad.

  “Never seen that one done, either,” Brim continued a conversation as Lechi passed out the meals, putting her vegetarian platter down first.

  Temki, taking his salmon dish, replied, “But you’re an ancient…”

  “Yeah, but solars are so rare, I’ve still yet to see it in action.”

  Lechi, once she had tossed her pigtails back behind her and took her seat, asked them, “What are we talking about?”

  “Elemental movement,” Rhys replied, taking a bite of his pasta. “I move plenty fast without it, which is fine, because I still don’t get it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never been able to pull it off,” Brim said. “I’ve tried over my lives—came close a few times, but damn it’s hard to do. Seen most of the kinds of travel in action, though. What about you, Norria?”

  Enjoying a turkey burger, she answered, “I can almost do it, actually. Problem is, I can’t get much practice in. Not much dirt in the burrow.”

  “Wait…” Rayna said after a spoonful of pot pie. “You almost can?”

  “Yeah—um, not that it’s that special. I’ve read that earth travel is the easiest to pull off. Last time I tried, I buried myself down to my neck after reforming early. That kinda… made me worry about getting trapped.”

  “What about you, Boss?” Rhys asked Lechi.

  While staring into the honey glaze on her seared pear, she answered, “I can do it—just barely. I wouldn’t consider it actual travel, but I can sort of phase myself through a couple inches of metal.”

  “Wait, really? That’s amazing.”

  “Traveling inside of metal…” Rayna murmured. “That just sounds really unnatural. What’s that even feel like?”

  “You don’t really feel it,” Lechi replied. “Remember, elemental travel is really fast, and you don’t sense too much while you’re doing it.”

  “Is there… mind travel?” Rayna asked, looking at Temki. “I realize how that sounds out loud, but you know what I mean.”

  Brim, eating a lamb meat gyro, answered, “I mean, not really, but Temki’s already able to basically erase himself from others’ perception and walk around wherever he wants that way, so that sort of counts.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” Rhys said. “But what would nova travel be? Can Rayna turn into a particle beam and annihilate matter as she darts about?”

  She replied dryly, “Well, I haven’t tried yet…”

  Norria replied thoughtfully, “Since nova’s all about the destruction of matter, I don’t think anything would stick around to be traveled through.”

  Rayna scratched at the skin under her restraint bracelets and Brim changed the subject by asking Rhys, “Any news about your siblings? I know we can’t chat directly with W, but has the burrow picked up anything?”

  Having scarfed down his food already, he answered, “The chief told me yesterday that the Guard finished their inquiry, and Sherwa and the others are in a safe place. I think Xidona will eventually do what she can to change their appearances and separate them into different housing.”

  “Can’t be easy to break them apart like that.”

  Rhys shrugged. “I dunno. I mean, sure, my line all watched out for each other, but after I ran away, I didn’t really feel homesick. After seeing some real families myself, I don’t think we saw each other as true siblings.”

  “Kamsa barely had any emotions,” Lechi replied. “She asked us to save her own line, but I didn’t sense that she had any strong emotional connection to them…” She stopped when she felt her pocket vibrate.

  With technology developed and deployed by Eden’s Burrow, Aurra now had basic and limited cell service, just enough to send a message to the select few who had pagers. The service was only found in C and G, and was already proving invaluable by offering faster communication. It was one of the ways the Angels were trying to depict themselves as representatives of the future of Aurra, and was another small rebellion on its own.

  Glowing on Lechi’s pager’s screen were the words, “PANGS OFFICE. BRING VERIM. – MILLA”.

  “I have to go,” she told the others after quickly finishing her meal. “But we’re still on for game night in the burrow. No chickening out.”

  “See ya, Lechi,” Rayna said among other farewell remarks.

  Once she was a little closer to the other table, she could hear Wendell telling the other two, “H wasn’t all bad during the short time we held it. I’m in no hurry to hit Mightoria again, but at least we had a beach.”

  “Until we ruined it with our half-built fortifications,” Xavier said.

  “Yeah, true. Heard the Guard took those down and put up a bunch of defense towers instead. What about you, Verim? Any more war stories?”

  He replied listlessly, “Sure… I got orders to kill some people, so I did. Then I got some more orders, so I killed more people. Then I did it again. I can’t even remember if I was ordered to that time.”

  “Verim…” Wendell let out a big sigh. “You have to get past this.”

  Lechi arrived and told him, “Verim, we’re being summoned.”

  He looked at the pager in her hand and muttered, “So impersonal. All right, then. Xavier. Wendell. Nice dinner, but next time, no war stories.”

  “You okay?” Lechi asked him.

  He didn’t respond at first, but began walking with her down an empty sidewalk and towards the tower just the same. It was a little strange to see him without a sword—he hadn’t touched a weapon recently.

  “Hey, Lechi… Do you think I’m a walking contradiction?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I always liked the thrill of a good duel, and vanquishing the worst people imaginable—if I was certain that they deserved it, and yet, I also enjoy a peaceful place, flowers, nature just… existing without us.”

  “It just means that you’re some kind of modern warrior monk.”

  “Heh, maybe… But war’s so different. I’d never been in one, never really looked into them. Figured I could just do what I’ve done in the past, on a bigger scale, if it meant protecting the people I love. But, certainly, very few of those I’ve killed recently… deserved what I did to them.”

  “Because war is what’s really impersonal, I know. I get that, even though I only just recently actually… killed anyone.”

  “To die in an Aurrian war… It’s still a strange concept.”

  “You’re not looking so well. Don’t you want to go back to Hold like Shin did, to rejuvenate, now that Earth’s open again?”

  He thought for a moment and replied, “I don’t know. Eventually, maybe. When I’m ready to see her again. Right now, though, I don’t have it in me to take the life of anyone, even my own.” After they had entered the tower’s lobby and were inside a moving elevator, he asked, “Lechi, what did you think of me that day on the rock, in the Sahara? When I killed Garder right in front of you, and still had… something of a feral side?”

  She didn’t want to answer, but after looking at his eyes and seeing that he was asking for a reason, she breathed out, “I thought you were a monster, stalking us. And I was sure I’d be next.”

  “So, I terrified you.”

  “Didn’t you realize that?”

  “Not so much back then. I’m sorry for that. I should’ve apologized a long time ago. I used to enjoy putting that kind of fear into others.”

  “After you jumped off the cliff, though, I began thinking that maybe something else was going on. But it’s hard trying to adjust to the truth, after centuries of the Guard lying to everyone, about disappearing and everything. I never would’ve guessed, though, that you were just delivering Garder to your hidden kingdom, and his mother.”

  “Mother…” Verim murmured and the elevator doors opened.

  Lechi stepped out and onto the floor, noticed that Verim was gazing into the air, and told him before the doors closed, “Hey, come on.”

  “Y-yeah. Let’s… see what they want.”

  “Wait, you want us for this assignment?” Lechi exclaimed after she and Verim had heard the summary. “Just… us? No one else?”

  “Jaraphim will you get into Y,” Rivia explained from behind his empty desk, just as vacant as the rest of his C office that he had moved out of some time back. “But, yes, Pangs and I agreed that sending in the two of you is optimal. This is a recon mission, in and out.”

  Milla added, “Like the other Cities governed by the Guard—Z, X, A, S, and R—Y has local suppression. But we’re not sending you in because of your providence-breaking power, and we aren’t planning an assault.”

  “It’s your animalect talents we want,” Shin said. “We’ll be giving you a pair of trained falcons to scout with.” She pointed at the tower on the photograph Verim was holding. “Get inside it if you can, but if it’s too dangerous, the birds might at least see something on the exterior that will tell us what this thing is. That’s all we need for now.”

  Garder, the only other person in the room, had nothing to add. He was simply leaning against the wall, listening and watching.

  “Is Wendell not an option?” Verim said with a sigh.

  Rivia replied, “We considered him, but just in case things go south, you can still defend yourself in a suppressed environment, Verim.”

  “Of course. That’s always what it comes down to.”

  Milla explained, “It has to do more with you being a pilot. The only way you’ll get close to it is by flying low in a chariot.”

  “You’ve earned and deserve a long leave,” Rivia tried to assuage him. “We should be entering a period of relative peace, as well, while we reorganize and plan our next campaign. But we need this done. I’ve always trusted you, Mr. Grenwich, ever since I first enlisted your… services.”

  Verim breathed out before asking, “General. Could you just tell me… How long have you known that Pangs is an Administrator?”

  Milla and Garder, who had yet to bring it up with the commander, both turned to look at the man. Shin, her eyes wide, also looked at him.

  “What?” she exclaimed as Rivia fell back into his chair and clasped his hands. “Is that true? I’m out of town for a few days, and that happens?”

  “He’s on our side, Ms. Xin,” he assured her. “And I knew shortly after I first met him. I was reluctant to at first, but I’ve trusted him since.”

  Verim asked, “And what about Nish? Did you know that I was his son from a past life? Pangs says otherwise, but am I part Administrator?”

  “Verim…” Shin said quietly. “I had no idea…”

  Rivia answered, “Pangs is right. Administrators are as such because their inner being is slightly different, not their physical selves.”

  Shin questioned, “But how did you two first meet?”

  “I was introduced early in this life, shortly after I joined the Guard. During a gathering of officers in this City, when we were both younger and he was about to ascend to a leadership position. We talked, and I learned that he knew of my efforts to plant seeds of rebellion across Aurra, across several lifetimes. Then he told me his secret. He was an Administrator who fled home, and he was starting construction on the burrow, far below us.”

  After a period of silence, Verim replied, “Okay… It helps to hear that from you, Rivia, from someone that’s known him for that long.”

  “So… you’ll accept this assignment?”

  “I suppose I must. And I’ll keep Lechi safe.”

  She told him, “I’m not a kid anymore. But, yeah, we’ll make a good team. Sir, can we meet our falcons today, so we can get to know them?”

  Rivia nodded. “Absolutely. Mr. Thalst will give you further details. And, Verim, thank you. I know that recent revelations haven’t been kind.”

  “Verim, can we talk later?” Shin asked him. “About Escellé…?”

  He replied nonchalantly, “Nish turned her into a mass murderer, and we’ve served her for decades. What’s there to talk about, Shin? Both of us will eventually see her again, and she can explain herself then. Maybe.”

  Shin was left speechless, so Rivia responded first, calmly, “Ah, about that… During the time she shared with Leovyn, Caeden, and myself, she never struck us as… Well. She seemed to have a good heart.”

  “You know, I asked Leovyn about her when we first got back, and he didn’t want to change his original story. ‘Ask Rivia,’ he then said. So, I’m asking—and I get why he’d want to protect her. But I have to know. How many Guardsmen did she really kill that day they went after them both?”

  Rivia hesitated, but answered, “Over a hundred. I wasn’t there, I don’t know the specifics, but… Jack… Leovyn did tell me that there was a point in the fight where she frightened him. But, Verim, whatever past she’s tried to bury, she did have her children to protect. Remember that.”

  Verim looked at the twins, both of them emotionless. Conflicted with this basic fact, he struggled in finding the right thing to say.

  “Then… maybe it was worth it. I don’t know anymore.”

  He turned to leave with Lechi, but Milla reached out, lightly grasped his hand, and said to him, “You know you can talk to us, too.”

  “I know, Milla. I wish I could’ve stayed here, and spent more time with you. I still consider you and Garder my siblings. At the same time… I wouldn’t trade my time with him, either.” He looked at him, quietly keeping to himself against the wall. “He’s still a good man. Don’t be scared of him.”

  “I’m not,” she lied. “Hey… all three of us should do something when you get back. We’ve never really had the chance to just… chat.”

  “I’d like that a lot. Yeah… I’d like that.”

  Three days of talks followed, hours spent trapped in a room full of debates and discussions. The adults seemed to forget that five of those at the table were children, as they contributed informed wisdom just as much as those older than them—if not more. Their combined and more recent ideas around Earth combat gave even traditional, old strategies a layer of cutting-edge ideas, from efficiency to risk management. Not that the others didn’t contribute, as well. Milla especially could bring up points no one else had considered, and though Garder rarely spoke unless spoken to, his experiences of the things he had seen on the ground brought needed insight to how the Angel soldiers fought together and what still drove them.

  Often times, Rivia would lean back in his chair to simply soak in the proposals and again realize that his rebellion had taken on a life of its own, and how it had become something much bigger than him.

  It was also easy for them to forget that early in the morning on that third day, Verim, Jaraphim, and Lechi had set off for Y, the young naval commander bringing them straight to his flagship just past the horizon of any of Y’s defensive measures. He then returned shortly after, and the talks recommenced, lasting for fifteen hours, with two full meals shared between the members of the war council at the table. By the time night arrived, it was actually beginning to sound feasible that the two largest divisions of the rebels would be able to reorganize around a new command structure and operate as a truly unified force, possibly powerful enough to strike X.

  “But the largest question remains…” Leovyn spoke after a respite filled with sips of water to help the sore throats in the room. “We will have to open up C to turn it into a second stronghold, but how accessible do we make the burrow? I’d be worried enough if there is suddenly an influx of officers trying to get down there, disrupting our research and operations.”

  Yvell said, “As I almost single-handedly control the dissemination of official information and often have to extinguish rumors, I happen to know that the burrow is still typically considered nothing more than a materiel research division under C. Knowledge of its existence has grown, but… as long as that’s the idea the troops have, the rumors could be worse. You should just keep giving them new tech sometimes.”

  “I do believe it’s worth thinking of H again, even this early,” Milla brought up a subject that she had now occasionally injected into their many conversations. “Despite all of the defense towers they’ve built up around the City, H still gives us our easiest route straight to A. If we could just find a way around those cannon emplacements…”

  Leovyn added, “We might have a chance to strike H if the Guard moves in a fleet to defend K. But it would be a narrow window.”

  “I appreciate the tenacity the Nolland family shares, and all of the new ideas being shared in this room,” Rivia replied, “but I firmly believe that we’ll need to solidify our hold on Onasia first, and build up resources, perhaps even build war factories. I’m concerned about the terrible losses we’d be facing if we made any mistakes in landing on Mightoria. With an entire continent on our side, we could…” He suddenly looked exhausted, and rubbed his forehead. “I do believe that’s enough for today.”

  One by one, good nights were exchanged and the war council filed out. Rivia was always the last to leave, in case anyone wanted to have a private talk. After Leovyn had gone, only the twins remained with the general. He seemed to be suffering from a headache.

  “Feeling okay, sir?” Milla asked him.

  “Oh. I’ve felt worse… I long for more of these days filled with planning. I’ve always liked forming plans, really. That sense of self-assurance that tags along… until things fall apart. But I really must return to D in the morning. I’ll have to leave it to all of you to finish up these discussions tomorrow. Was there something else, Ms. Nolland?”

  “I just never got a chance to bring this up, and I’ve tried to keep matters involving W away from the others regardless. I was wondering if you’ve spoken with Xidona recently, have any updates on Colt? The burrow might need its ace pilot back some time soon.”

  “I was able to briefly speak with Xidona yesterday. They have to synthesize several new parts for the Mezik L and getting them right has caused a minor delay. It may still be another week or so. I do understand the necessity that vessel provides for the burrow.”

  “I see. Having an updated timeframe helps.”

  Garder finally left his seat and was ready to return to the burrow with Milla, when a knock was suddenly heard at the door.

  “General Rivia? Sir? Are you still in there?”

  He walked over and opened it, revealing one of C’s messengers. The young man was nearly out of breath; he must have been new to the ancient Aurrian job now locally threatened by new technology.

  “What’s happened?” Rivia asked him. “Something urgent?”

  “Yes, sir. I ran here from the gateway manor to… report directly to you… five arrivals during the last window… All of them needed treatment. They’re at the hospital. I’m sorry, the guards wouldn’t tell me their names, but I was told they were VIPs and that you should… see them right away.”

  “Very well. But did you see what they looked like?”

  “I caught a glimpse. There was a man and a woman with dark hair, helping an older, frail man walk… And two others, but I didn’t see them.”

  “Sir…” Milla spoke up. “You don’t think… Is it possible…?”

  The carriage pulled up to C’s central hospital, several blocks away, and Rivia and the twins stepped out. Only about a third of the building’s windows were lit in any way, with the east wing completely dark. Once inside the lobby, where Rivia checked in with the receptionist, it was easy to see why. Above the locked door to the wing, a sign that was no longer illuminated read “Surrogacy and Birthing Ward”. Like nearly every youth academy in the City, it had been closed for years.

  “Yes, they just arrived, General…” the receptionist told Rivia. “Four of them needed intensive treatment. The other, a teenage girl, is having non-life-threatening injuries tended to in a room farther away.”

  “Lechi…” Milla murmured.

  “I see…” Rivia replied. “What… are the room numbers?”

  “Oh, you’ll find the four just down the hall, third door on the left. The girl was already moved to the second floor, 205, near the elevator.”

  “Thank you.” Rivia faced the Nollands and muttered, “What the hell happened out there… This was supposed to be a simple mission.”

  “If it really is them…” Milla wondered. “Who did they bring?”

  “If it’s really them, Ms. Nolland, then we’ll have to hear about how they managed to break out of Z.”

  They hurried to the only room with an open door, the light from the other side spilling into the hall. Inside, sleeping on a bed as he was being monitored by medical equipment and hooked up to an IV, was a frail old man with an unruly gray beard. He wasn’t immediately recognizable, but the two others nearby, still being helped by a nurse, were after a moment.

  Barely able to stand as she leaned against her IV pole was Vadaka, her goggles nowhere in sight. She looked up and saw Rivia and the twins she and her brother had taken care of as infants, tried to say something, but found that her mouth was too dry. Bired was resting in a wheelchair and barely cognizant as he waited for his treatment to take effect. All three of them looked like they were on the verge of death.

  “They’re malnourished and severely dehydrated,” the nurse told the guests. “Please wait here a moment, I’ll see if the other patient will be able to see you. He was… a little better off.”

  She went into a side room and closed the door. The three came a little closer, and Rivia was able to get a better look at the man on the bed.

  “I think this is Klayson…” he said quietly.

  “Colonel Klayson?” Milla exclaimed. “He’s alive?”

  “If only barely, I’m afraid… Christ. We didn’t even know. The things they must have done to him over seven years…”

  Vadaka whispered, “We weren’t… going to let him in die there…”

  Milla approached her, and after seeing her condition, hesitantly asked, “How did you… Just… how? No one’s escaped from Z.”

  “It’s possible. It is…”

  “Be careful, Milla,” Garder cautioned her. “Non-zero chance they were just brainwashed and released, and now they’re a threat to us.”

  “Garder!” Milla fired back.

  “The concern is… not without merit,” Vadaka continued. “But brainwash? Us? Give us… some credit as strong mind adepts…”

  Bired came to life, sat up in his wheelchair, and was able to speak a bit louder than his sister. “They tossed us into Block 4 when they first brought us in… Weren’t actually working with Angels, so… just for the crime of being erasers. Found a way out through the old Admin ruins, but… had to get ourselves sent to Block 9 first to make full use of it…”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Milla said, but realized now wasn’t the time to question them further. “But… somehow, you’re here.”

  “We’ll tell you all about it sometime… It really was an impressive escape. But… we paid for it… Three days down there, no food, water…”

  “They’ve been through hell, Milla,” Rivia said. “Finding out how they did it is important, but they need to recover first.”

  In agreement, Milla finished up their talk. “I’m happy that you’re out of there and safe. So… if you came in with Verim and Lechi…”

  “Verim…” Bired, now barely lucid again, muttered. “Mm, Verim… I remember that kid… Sword…”

  The door to the other room opened, and the nurse brought out the third patient needing intensive care. He didn’t look quite as ragged as the other three, and his gray hair and eye patch made it plainly clear that he wasn’t Verim. In fact, there was only person in the room who knew him.

  “Who…?” Garder fell silent upon realizing Verim was missing.

  “Corus!” Milla exclaimed. “We… I thought you were dead, too.”

  “Do you know him?” Rivia asked her.

  “Y-yes, he…” she stopped herself, unsure if she should answer with the nurse in the room. Instead, she spoke first to Rivia with telepathy, and then told Garder the same basic details, “He’s an operative from the burrow, a sniper, and was Brim’s mentor. We thought he was killed about sixteen months ago while on assignment.”

  Corus weakly gave Rivia the Angel salute, before he looked at his superior in the room and asked her, “How’s the girl doing? She’s with you, isn’t she? She kept asking for you, but everyone told her to come here.”

  Milla answered, “We… we haven’t seen her yet.”

  “Don’t worry about us. She was clearly really upset, and she’s probably all alone up there. Go, Ms. Nolland.”

  “Oh, God,” Milla breathed out, her hand on her chest as her heart began to race. “Lechi…”

  “Milla!” Garder called out as she fled the room. “Damn it.”

  He chased after her, with Rivia staying a moment longer to grasp Klayson’s hand, his only way of welcoming him home and honoring his service until he was awake and able to speak again.

  By the time the elevator arrived and Milla was desperately pressing the button for the second floor, Garder and Rivia caught up with her. She was already close to a panic.

  “Milla, calm down,” Garder told her. “Someone in your position isn’t supposed to look this upset.”

  “Something happened to our friends. It’s different. And if it’s our fault, if I screwed up somewhere, I don’t know…”

  “Milla,” Rivia said and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

  She grasped it and tried to steady her breathing as the doors opened. They stepped into the hall and walked the short distance to Lechi’s dark room, to find that she was indeed alone, against a pillow, buried into her knees, and audibly crying. Bandages covered her hands, a shoulder and her forehead. Upon seeing this, Milla’s heart dropped into her stomach. Unable to speak, she could only go and give her a warm, tight embrace.

  “M-Milla…” she sobbed.

  Milla then pulled away, held onto Lechi’s shoulders, and tried to find the words. “Lechi… what h-happened…”

  Feeling his own emotions boiling over, Garder jumped in and exclaimed, “Where’s Verim? Lechi! What happened out there?”

  Lechi stared at him for a moment before escaping Milla’s grasp and falling back against the oversized pillow, where she collected her thoughts.

  “It… all went wrong,” she managed to get out. “It was nothing like what we expected… I don’t even know what…”

  With kind patience, Rivia told her, “Please, take your time. As painful as it might be… we have to know what transpired.”

  Lechi nodded, dried her eyes, and took a deep breath.