ASPECT
By MargaritaDaemonelix
Prologue
You hate Altera.
Everything in this damned city reminds you of a Lovecraftian hell, from the people to the surroundings. You've never enjoyed holing yourself up in your apartment, but you don't have a choice if you want to avoid the terrors outside.
You miss Atlas, and you miss your homeland. Altera's technology is a sad mimicry of Atlas's sleek engines at best, and its paved streets carry less than half the grace of the streets of the capital back home. Where is the elegance, the poise? You see only a power hungry struggle and the ugly whims of men around you.
Maybe change is finally starting to come, though. Your "boss" - the man who assigns you to your post - is finally dead, killed by his own kid sister. You didn't know she was with the rebels, but after watching her bodyguard and the red haired kid (is that Elesis's brother?) pry open the junction box and break a crowbar, you've finally decided to emerge from your lonely den.
Messages flood your phone, from Elesis and the others in Feita. Ara and Add have been surprisingly quiet after the emergency "yo can you kill the lights in the Tunnel" message you got from Ara. You're pretty sure they're working up for a surprise of some sort.
You sigh. One message makes its way above the others - the package they'd asked you to receive has arrived, and according to the invoice, it's huge. It's sitting in your hastily-rented storage unit right now, and if your instincts are correct, judging by the sheer size and the FRAGILE CARGO label slapped on it, they're either sending you a straight up bomb or a new car - or perhaps a tank.
(Not that you'd mind any of those things. You could use the spare parts.)
But you can't receive it just yet. You're due for a court appearance.
Since your boss is dead and his sister is being tried for murder, you've been called to jury duty alongside the other members of his elite panel of friends. Not many of them are left - Add was carted off to the Tunnel barely two weeks ago, and Thomas Scorpius was killed in the bloodbath in Bethma just four, five days ago.
No one in Elrios mourns him, not his closest friends, not his people. Adam Nasod did not deserve to be remembered with happiness, after all, not by the people of Elrios. Yet national mourning occurs nonetheless, whether forced or natural. Everyone in the courtroom is in black, most of all Eve herself. She's been tucked into a slim black dress that probably makes it hard for her to breathe.
You barely remember to grab a black coat to slip over your lab coat before you walk in a dignified manner into the courtroom, taking your seat as the final member of the jury. Around you are Adam's closest allies, Dr. Alterasia among them. You wince as he picks up a glass of water, shaking so hard that he spills most of it over himself, and takes a sip gingerly.
The terms of the prosecution come forth - Eve is, without a doubt, guilty of killing her brother, and has been under house arrest in the day or so since the event. You can't help but notice she doesn't have a lawyer to defend her, either because they consider her to be capable enough to hold her own, or because they want to watch her crash and burn.
And yet Eve doesn't. She responds to each accusation with cold conviction, never showing any semblance of emotion. Her words are steely and biting, seeking to not only defend herself but to call everyone else out on their flaws. It's like she's a changed woman - no more lively white dresses at soirées, no more playing video games with her friends at 3 am. Her glare conveys nothing short of death.
You make eye contact with her, smiling kindly. She only blinks.
The prosecution reads Adam Nasod's will. His estate, his private quarters, all his own belongings are to go to his sister, with the exception of a villa in Hamel that is to go to his mistress. To his attendants he grants a solid pension after their retirements (that retirement effective immediately) and a home for them each in the residential quarter of Altera.
Everyone holds their breath when the lawyer reads the final designation. The rule of Altera and by proxy all of Elrios is to go to Eve, unless she is a) dead or b) declared to be unfit to rule, in the case of which control of Elrios will go to the Earl of Sander, Ran Haan. Right now, you can only do your best to convince them that Eve is still fit to rule and should not be executed.
And you try. You really do, but it's not enough.
The jury pulls out of the courtroom into the back room to discuss its decision, and at its head is a woman with hair so red it almost looks artificial, and dark violet eyes full of malice. The badge on her shoulder - a red four pointed star - indicates that she hails from Sander, likely a representative for the Earl. She doesn't even sit down at the head of the table, simply claps her hands down. "All in favour of executing Lady Nasod?"
You are the only one to not raise a hand. The woman glares at you, but you hold firm to your decision. There has to be something you can do to make them keep Eve alive. "All in favour of… Not executing Lady Nasod?" She grunts.
Silently, everyone's hands drop as yours sails high in the sky. "Eleven to one. The house of Nasod falls," says one of the senators.
"Don't execute her," you blurt, feeling eleven pairs of eyes resting on you. "Send her off to Velder, or lock her Lanox. Don't you see that she's still a child? Her brother confined her, and if she snapped on him, it was his own fault. Execution will do her no good, and no good to Elrios either."
"If we send her to Velder, she will join with the other exiles that we sent there," a businessman snaps. "And seeing as to how she's escaped the Core twice, I'm not sure any prison cell in Lanox could hold her. We need to execute her."
"Do you not fear uprising?" You counter. "Have none of you considered that the rebels will not stay put once she is dead? Look back at the uprising of five years ago, at the bloodbath in Bethma barely a week ago, even the protests in Elder from two months ago should tell you that there is unrest! If you wish to keep peace in this nation, do not execute her."
The red-haired woman from Sander pounds on the table, and everyone goes silent. "The Earl Haan does not care for peace in this nation," she hisses. "There is no unrest that the Morpheus Project cannot suppress. If the people choose to kill themselves over their lost princess, then so be it." She pushes her way out of the room, shoving against you particularly roughly when she passes by.
You tried. You really did. But it wasn't enough.
You come out of the room after everyone else, as the judge begins to announce the jury's decision. "In an almost unanimous 11-1 decision, the jury has reassured my judgement."
You lock eyes with Eve again, and smile weakly. I tried, you try to tell her. She is still a blank slate, but her eyes seem to convey a level of surprise, and thankfulness.
The gavel comes down with a crash. Eve doesn't even flinch when she is sentenced to death, and only offers an emotionless nod to the red-haired woman from Sander, now identified as Karis Berenice, when she is assigned to monitor her during her last few days.
So it's not just Altera, you muse as the courtroom empties and Eve is led out in handcuffs. Sander is just as bad, just as filled with greedy men and women with no hearts. No wonder Eve keeps herself so steely - any sign of weakness here will be exploited to its maximum.
You miss Atlas. You miss calling your sisters at 2 in the morning because time zones are stupid. You miss Yuno, and you miss his gentle touch and gentle words. There's nothing in this stupid city holding you down. You are better than all of them. You can leave whenever you want.
And yet you can't. There's still business left to clean up around here.
You sigh. You still have a package to pick up, after all. The invoice message tells you it was shipped from Lanox, which is slightly alarming in and of itself. You should probably get around to picking that up and seeing what's inside.
You sigh as you slip out of the jacket, letting your white lab coat unfurl to the ground below. The Empyrean badge on your sleeve gleams brightly. You don't know whether to look at it with pride or not.
"Volt, initiate movement," you say into your intercom headset. "Coordinates are being sent now."
You roll up your sleeves and brush a strand of blonde hair out of your face.
"I have a package to pick up."
A/N: while our mystery person goes to pick up the package, i have a chem lab to write and i really don't want to write it
so yeah! third book of Blink! Spectrum was great fun to write and i really got to explore some deeper sides of everyone's nature, but this is where the real fun begins. murders and fighting and heartbreak? check, check and check.
if you've had time to check out my profile, you'll see that under the planned stories section, there's something new as the highest priority. that's going to be my other major project for the year, and i'll be happy if i can finish both Aspect and When the Winter Ends in 2018. i'll stagger updates for the two fics, so next week will be a WtWE update (not really bc i have an assignment due) and the week afterwards, i'll return to Aspect.
that's the idea for this coming year! i'm trying to put some schedules into my life so i stop suffering lmao
and now back to chem bc i seriously need to finish this before midnight
~MargaritaDaemonelix