Chapter 10: The Bearer of the Embers

...

Taki stumbled back, as if he'd been struck in the face. Section 3 destroyed? Zona Militum overrun? That- that couldn't be possible.

"But just one week ago, I was…" Taki said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the zone. He tried to muster up more volume into his denials, as if his continued insistence could force back the dawning truth of the matter.

The sergeant shrugged as if he had seen this sort of thing countless times before. He stood up and motioned with a hand, gesturing for Taki to follow him.

"Where are we going?" Taki said, filing in behind the older man.

"To the outer perimeter." Came the other man's reply.

The sergeant lead Taki away from their encampment, occasionally detouring to circle around unnavigable areas, but always returning to the same heading. Something tingled at the back of Taki's mind as they passed one intersection between a pair of narrow streets, but the other man was already moving ahead, and Taki put it out of his thoughts as he jogged to catch up. The other man stopped in front of a window, then moved aside for Taki.

"Here. See for yourself." He gestured.

Taki squinted his eyes. He checked his chronometer to confirm that it was sunset, but outside there was only a dim, dingy twilight, the light of the sun diffused and concealed by layers of gray smog. A brownish-yellow haze hung in the air, rising from the ground amidst a sea of glowing pinpoints.

Taki's eyes widened as he made out the dark shapes moving amidst the lights. Slab-sided vehicles trundled alongside mobs of alien infantry, swarming through and over the hive's ruined outskirts. Taki followed their movements with his gaze, tracing them to a gap in the hive's outer wall.

The hive's outer wall was dozens of meters thick, but it had been laid open, pried apart and caved in by an enormous force. A skeleton of wreckage still lay there, its remains twisted and curled like upturned claws, resting half-buried within a crater of its own making. In his mind's eye Taki could almost see the flaring trajectory of its initial descent, though only a bare frame remained of it now, the rest of it stripped bare by plundering alien hands. A steady stream of invaders flowed through the gap, like water running down an open drain.

Taki raised a hand to wipe away the hot droplets forming on the back his neck. He almost expected blood, only for his fingers to come away wet with transparent sweat. His pulse pounded in his ears, and it hurt to even breathe through the tightening in his chest.

That was where he'd been going. Section 3, the Paderu Wall.

"That was where the fragment hit." The sergeant said. He suddenly looked tired.

"I knew a few men from the units stationed there. And, well..." He trailed off.

Taki's opened his pack, grasping at his data-slate like a drowning man desperately reaching for a lifeline. He flipped through his entries with a frantic haste as if the power cell would die right then and there if he didn't get another look at them.

There they all were. Mitsuha's journal entries. They were there as he expected, and there was no way he could have written them on his own.

Taki's eyes flicked between his diary entries and the impactor, willing the contradiction to resolve itself in his favor. He heard a soft thud, and it was only the pain that came a moment after that made him realize it was his own body slumping to the ground. His data-slate clattered to the floor from his nerveless fingers. He gazed up at the sergeant, who gave him a look of sympathy, then tilted his head to indicate that they should go back.

Taki picked up his slate and trudged behind the other man as they returned to the unit, where the other soldiers were still going on about the day's exploits. His ears could no longer make out their words, only the fact that they were speaking a familiar language. He collapsed onto the ground like an unstrung puppet, leaned his head against the side of his pack, and closed his eyes.

...

It was the sixth day of the Feast of the Emperor's Ascension, considered to represent the final act of Malcador the Hero before he'd crumbled to dust from the strain of powering the Golden Throne. A last mote of psychic strength and will had been passed from him to the Emperor, enabling the Master of Mankind to speak his final words, carrying with them instructions that had laid the foundation for the next ten thousand years of the Imperium's existence.

"Here. Eat this on the way back up." The sergeant said, shoving a ration pack into Taki's hands.

"Fumio! Suzuko!" He called, prompting two of the soldiers - a man and a woman - to stand up and snap to attention.

"We're off the front lines today, so you're to make sure this kid gets back to the border with Zona Industria. Should be safe enough there, and he can get home on his own after that."

The three of them departed, and Taki said nothing as he trailed behind the two soldiers. The space hulk had struck three years ago, and afterwards his exchanges with Mitsuha had come to a definitive halt. They were separated by three years, and the switching had stopped because she had died three years ago.

"Ugh, why do we gotta do this?" The man griped once the three of them were out of the sergeant's earshot. He was about to say more but a disapproving look from his partner silenced his objection.

"Because if he's the one who got us supplied then it's better if we make sure he gets back safe." She said. "Seriously Fumio, try to think a little before you talk."

They walked for hours, passing another window that showed the devastation outside. Taki glanced through it while he pictured the view from his home. Up in the spires, the sea of clouds spread out in every direction, its uniform tranquility disturbed by neither impacts nor Orks. There was nothing Taki could do, no way to change the past, but at least now he could continue the work that Mitsuha had started. Now that he had seen the horror below with his own eyes, he could continue to advocate for the militia and the lower classes. And perhaps Mitsuha would be happy for him, if she ever looked down from wherever she was now.

Fumio and Suzuko lead Taki upward to bypass a ruined section. As they ascended, the architecture began to change, signifying their entry into the bounds of the lower hive. Automatically and without conscious thought, Taki's hand went to his Rosarius, gripping the double-headed amulet so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Hey kid, where'd you get that?" Suzuko asked as she glanced back to see what the holdup was. She approached Taki, bending down to have a closer look at the object in his hand.

"Yeah, that's a Rosarius alright." She said, pointing at it with a finger. "I thought these things were only issued to the preachers of the creed. Even if you're the richest kid on the planet, it shouldn't be possible for you to buy one of these right?"

"I didn't buy it." Taki began, turning away defensively, shielding the Rosarius with his body. "But I've had it for three years, and I remember getting it from.."

Taki trailed off. He wracked his memory. He'd found it three years ago, after some sort of altercation between someone and his guards. He'd kept it all these years, though it was only recently that he had learned its name and its function.

"Soul's Armor." The other soldier - Fumio his name was - interjected in an almost reverent tone, almost mirroring Taki's exact thoughts. "So that's what that flash was when we blasted the greens."

"With how close you were to the bang, we figured we'd be fishin' out a bloody mess from that pile. But that thing kept your soul from going to the Emperor before it was time." He added, then tapped a finger against his cheek. "Though if you keep pressin' your luck, who knows how much longer you'll have to live."

"Let me have a look." He reached out with a hand. When Taki drew back, he added, "Promise I won't steal it or anything. Sarge'll kill me if this gets back, and that's only if Suzuko here doesn't get her jabs in first."

Taki handed it over slowly, and Fumio turned the amulet over onto its front, squinting his eyes to read off the ident-code that was stamped into its back.

"That's military code alright." He said as he gave it back. "If I had to guess, I'd say it was issued probably three, maybe four years ago. So practically brand new then. Now I don't know what kind of channels you had to go through to get your hands on this, but…"

Taki was no longer listening. Military issue? Memories of eating at a mess hall welled up in his mind. Three or four years ago? Complaints about the new priest rang in his ears. A sharp ache seared itself into Taki's head.

Someone had trespassed onto his estate three years ago, and he'd had them escorted out by his guards. No, not them. It was her.

Taki let out a shuddering breath. So that was Mitsuha. Mitsuha had come to see him three years ago, on his invitation, and he'd had her thrown out like a common crook. And even despite all that, she was still protecting him. His study into Zona Industria's layout had been done at her bidding, his escape from the Orks had been made possible by her exercises, and his life had been saved a dozen times over by the Rosarius that she had left him. Even these two soldiers here were only helping him because of her idea to force the noble houses to supply them.

Taki's eyes stung. He turned away slightly wiped at them with a arm. His sleeve came away stained by warm, wet droplets.

"Is something wrong?" Suzuko asked.

Soul's Armor. A shield of light with a spark of the Emperor's divinity that would carry and preserve the soul, and keep it from passing before its time. Well, Mitsuha had certainly passed well before her time.

Taki looked up at the surrounding architecture, a motley arrangement stuck halfway between the ordered arrangements of the upper hive and the cluttered mess of the lower. He had been here before. In Mitsuha's body.

"Sorry Mitsuha." Taki said. "Sorry for giving up on you just like that."

"Did you say something?" Fumio waved a hand at Taki.

Taki looked up and blinked his eyes clear.

"I'm not going back just yet." He said, turning to his two companions.

"So you really do have a death wish?" Fumio fixed him with a skeptical look, tinged with exasperation at being dragged along with all this.

"I'm not going anywhere dangerous, and you don't have to come with me." Taki replied. "You can go back if you want, and tell your commander that you took me to Zona Industria, and that I said thanks for all the help."

Taki set his jaw and leveled his shoulders, and the two soldiers exchanged glances. Then, seeing his resolve, they departed and waved goodbye.

Taki waited until they were gone before he began his ascension, and the architecture shifted further into the style of the upper hive. In his memory the area had been well-lit, but now most of the lights were dimmed. The district's proximity to the front line had seen it abandoned by its former residents, so there was no one left to ask for instructions.

Taki chose his steps carefully, desperately grasping at what remained of his memories at every twist and turn. The silence was gripping, almost sucking away the strength from his aching limbs. It was getting late, and Taki sat down, leaning against a household gate as he devoured his rations. With every swallowed mouthful, he felt the heaviness in his stomach, and resumed his trek once some of the warmth had returned to his tired legs.

Taki let out a breath as his eyes fell upon the familiar entryway to Mitsuha's chapel, practically squeezed in between the bounds of a pair of upper hive manses. The gently smiling face of Mitsuha's abbess spread out in Taki's mind, and as he stepped foot into the shrine, he almost expected her to be there waiting for him. Somehow, even in the middle of an abandoned district made scarce by war, her presence would not have seemed out of place.

Instead, the shrine was silent and empty, its floor covered in a thin layer of dust and the sole lumen bulb lying shattered on the ground. The statue of the Emperor however, was still perfectly intact, maintaining its silent vigil over the empty cell.

Taki knelt down before the statue. It was rude to enter a chapel and leave without praying first. Empty or abandoned, it mattered not, the Emperor was always watching.

Taki almost cried out as the hive's structure shook, causing dust and flakes of calcicrete to rain down from the ceiling. A deep rumble conducted through the ground, a rhythmic, thunderous drumbeat. It broke over his head, twisted in his gut, and rattled him to the very bone.

Taki gripped the Rosarius with a hand, feeling some strength return to his limbs and back. Its center was warm. He clasped his other hand around it, then closed his eyes and prayed. His voice quivered, and his throat tightened as he let a trickle of urgency leak into his words.

A lilting melody sounded in Taki's ears, a rising chorus of voices that doused the distant thunder. Light blossomed, iron-sharp silver intertwined with molten golds that rippled and flowed like refractions across a watery surface. Sensation vanished; the aching in Taki's feet from hours of walking melting away to nothing, the musty smell of dust in his nostrils fading like a forgotten memory. Only the warmth of the Rosarius in Taki's hands did not disappear.

Taki looked up. The statue of the Emperor glared down at him, a motionless silhouette framed against a silver sun. Glittering droplets formed, accumulating at the corners of its eyes once more.

Taki reached out with a hand, lifting one off with the tip of his finger. Immediately, the light and melody faded, and sensation returned in a sudden wave.

"It didn't work huh?" Taki said, allowing his hand and his head to fall. Then he saw it.

There was something on his finger, so miniscule that he couldn't feel it. It glimmered like a diamond in the light, sparkling with some unsourced radiance despite the near-darkness of the chapel.

The Emperor's tear.

Taki froze, holding his arm stiff to make sure that he would not lose this most priceless of treasures. Slowly, gingerly, he retracted his hand to daub it onto Mitsuha's Rosarius. The amulet was known as the Soul's Armor. Well if that was true, then something of Mitsuha - some shard or fragment of her soul - should still reside within it. And if the Emperor's Tear could cure any ailment or injury, then it should-

Taki paused. The Abbess was long gone, but the familiar sensation of the pressure on his knees brought her words back like a rushing tide. The Emperor's tears had not cured the Ecclesiarch. The Emperor did not look kindly upon self-pity.

"The Emperor helps those who help themselves." He mouthed off the old woman's words.

Keeping one eye on the droplet balanced on his finger, Taki removed his data-slate from his pack with his other hand. He powered it on, and entered a new log.

'Mitsuha, I came down to look for you. And, if you're seeing this, then it worked.'

Laying the slate down beside him, Taki dabbed the droplet against the Rosarius. The rumbles of the tremors seemed to fade from his ears, until the only noise left was the sound of Taki's breathing.

They could still connect.

"One last time." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. Mitsuha had firmly believed that their switches were the product of the Emperor's will. And near the end of their exchanges, Taki had started believing it too.

"One last time. Let me go back. I'll save her, and Saya, and Tessie. I won't let any of them die."

Taki swayed as a sudden lightheadedness came over him. Perhaps it was the long day, the exhausting climb, or maybe it was just the release of tension that came from giving voice to his wish. His vision spun, and he had to lean back on his free hand for support. His memory raced, showing him the events of that fateful day when a star fell from the heavens. He saw the void tear, saw the shroud of flame descend from the sky. He didn't even feel his shoulder colliding with the floor as the fire and great shape broke apart, and a spire-sized fragment collided with his body.

...

- "I cannot say whether you will win, or even if you will live. But I do know this, beyond any doubt."