AN: I thank the Lord for this chapter and I hope you all enjoy it. I likely won't be posting next week due to a need to finish up a project. So, I hope you enjoy this until then.

Pagliacci-11.

Chapter 90

Nicolette and Yolanda stood in front of the Ministry's grand carved doors, the great fortress of law, the hall of procedure dictated the comings and goings of the people great and small. Yolanda was amazed to be in the presence of the Ministry once more. For years when she was a child, she remembered the glittering brass and copper inlay roof. It shined elegantly, and it could be seen for miles in on all directions at high-noon.

Nicolette sighed, with the report in her hands, and she looked at Yolanda, "You ready, Heidi? We go before the General, the true commander. Are you ready?"

Yolanda nodded, "I understand."

"That's not what I asked you. Are you ready?"

Yolanda nodded, "Alright, let's go."

The two headed through the great doors into the splendor of the main hall. Heroes and heroines lined the hall in statues, figurines, and busts. The sculptures were given for the contributions of heroes and heroines in commemoration of their efforts. As they passed through the hall of the heroes, Nicolette was reminded of just how hard this would be. She knew the general they would be standing before would be Cecil Gregson, Sylvia's genuine second father figure who had raised her in military doctrines and understandings. Nicolette was fearful as she approached the engraved mahogany door, and she knocked four times. The doors opened, and Gregson sat at his table, and he looked seeing the two women before him in the doorway.

He motioned to approach, and he said, "Overseer, how fairs the field?"

Nicolette exhaled; being in the great General's presence was not to be taken lightly as he held the power of life and death over every soldier in the Ministry. She placed her report in his hands and stepped back. He opened the file, read the first few pages, and looked at her, back at the report, and back at her again.

Gregson closed the file, and he said, "What are the charges for the request of dismissal?"

Nicolette replied, "Your daughter has violated the first core foundations of North-Gate when engaging the host populace, General. I regretfully must bring this to your attention."

Gregson looked at the report, and, putting on his glasses, he read further. He then looked at Nicolette, "Nicole, I spent twenty years studying handwriting all for our involvement with our neighbors. You say you do this with regret, but this report is written with a cool and purposeful hand." He continued to read, "The bodily acquisition of three vessels—you said you had terminated two of them, one of them being her main body due to the original host energy rejection, correct? The other for the stability of resources to be sure of your energy infrastructure."

Gregson got up and, heading over to a white file cabinet he took out a telltale maroon folder of the office of the High-Command, and he handed it to Nicolette, "Page 42, read it."

Nicolette opened to the page and she read.

"From the desk of High-Commander Penrose 12:00 Zulu.

Our endeavors to circumvent the Hawthorne Effect have proven successful. It is with this result I submit an ability to proceed to observe the renegade assets through the guise of friendship. The asset will be named Jacqueline Gray/Grey; the second asset will be that of the mother who houses Jacqueline (Pending energy sustainability and concentration). The third asset will follow as needed."

Gregson looked at Nicolette, "I assure you; we know very well what your commander is up to. We are aware of the bodily doctrine, it was her sister before her who pioneered it, for goodness sake. However, let me ask you, Nicolette, has she done anything in direct violation of the humane accord of the tenets of war?"

Nicolette shook her head, "No, General."

"Then where is your major objection?"

"Our high-commander is never going to tame the beast that is across the horizon. Even if she could, the beast that is their corruption will never be tamed, never ended unless she destroys the foundations of their world, and even then, there is no guarantee that their evil will be fully routed. The wheel just keeps turning, and even if you break the wheel, the wheel will heal itself likely worse than what came before, despite our best efforts. General, I mean you no disrespect; but I don't wish to have us waste our men, their lives, and our resources on a futile mission."

Gregson nodded, and he thought for a moment, nothing sounding in the room save the solid tick of the green marble gold-inlay clock on his desk. He then stood and, looking outside as the great city square below, said, "Sylvia has asked to purge the world you have come from. To cleanse it and sear it due to what she has seen. She believes if she is to make progress, she is to purge the graft and rot forever. You say this is fruitless, Nicolette. Why?"

Nicolette stepped forward, albeit timidly, "Because they are a people eternally divided. They are an obnoxious back-biting race that, from your daughter's own mouth, even if she were to give them all of everything to make themselves happy, they'd still find something to fight over. From her mouth, she would attempt to enforce a change that literally has half a chance of working and is too far removed from certainty to satisfy even the board if it came down to it.

The people she endeavors to reach even have killed their saviors of the world because it didn't suit their objectives for wealth, fame, and power. One of their people said it best that religion is the opiate of the masses. However, I would say further that religion incenses them to do equally some of the most heinous actions and some of the most beautiful. Pending who hears it, it's like a genuine drug trip. Maybe you get someone who is convinced to try the change the world for the better, while the other seeks to destroy it because of what they see.

Suffice it to say, our commander, while entirely noble in her intent, would be no different than countless zealots before her. It is an endeavor that is not only potentially fruitless but has such a high cost; I'm not sure our own brothers and sisters would stand for it.

That is why I urge you, General, to make her stop this moral crusade before we suffer losses akin to Louis and bankrupt our people due to zealous belief. The same as Louis aspired for unity between France and America due to his drastic sacrifices."

Gregson was silent as he mulled over Nicolette's words, and after about three minutes of stoic silence, he replied, "You're right, of course. She's enforcing change that is not hers to enforce. That said, I will give her credit, she aspires to fix the fucked up hellhole you came from, and that shows a lot more dedication than you find in most people. Still, the potential genuine costs of such an endeavor could all too easily amount to her being marred forever by folly.

I wish to caution you, Nicolette. When you return to her with my decree and my mandate, she will be angry with you; but she will not violate the Grand Estate's seal. She will not, for she has never done so before. She holds me with some of the highest regards; but you cannot try and capitalize on this loyalty by twisting the knife, as they say. Do you understand? You are to give her the mandate and order a disarming. She will be angry with you, so anticipate that. But, when she reads the commission, she will calm down.

If this place truly has had such a drastic effect on Sylvia, as you claim, and she'd even gone so far as to try and live among the people and be sure of her actions; that is to be noted in your summary of this expedition. Note her mercy, her compassion."

Nicolette stepped forward, "General, she wished to use Aelita Schaffer from the horizon to balance her command of people here. She aspired to bring her kindness, something that our own did not possess, to help govern the people fairly. That was a portion of her intent. Sadly, General, her intent must be said to have been tainted by the goings-on of our neighbors. You know your daughter, General. Has she ever struck out at anyone in genuine violence for contradiction?"

Gregson turned to Nicolette, his blue eyes concerned now, "I beg your pardon?"

"That's what transpired and inspired me to come and see you. That place has made her so cold, so hardened in her heart that I worry for my friend, my sister, General! We need to get her out of there, her and our team while there is still time."

Gregson looked at Yolanda, "Klinger, what say you to this? You are our second most active asset since we made landfall. What is your assessment having lived amongst our neighbors as you have?"

Yolanda had thought many times of what she'd say in this situation; however, she knew Gregson was in no way wishing for a grand dialogue, and so she knew it was best to be concise. She stepped forward, and she spoke.

"General, I have been amongst our neighbors, and I have my grievances with your daughter; I do not deny this. However, what she seeks to remedy, I saw all around me at the basic level as I mended their children's bodies. Their children, no more than glorified vocal points of their parents, are without care or concern for each other, scarcely without a form of self-identity as I've seen one too many times.

Before her replacement by our own, Elisabeth Delmas, as raised by our original neighbor, Jean-Pierre Delmas, was nothing short of a vindictive, self-serving monster viciously attacking all who crossed her. She was brutish, inelegant, uncouth, and immensely vain. Our own Elisabeth had to pick up select traits if only to blend in,, but even she knows of the foulness across the horizon.

General, my point is that if the children are such blatant, monstrous, and honest trash-receptacle regurgitators, that rot and disgust comes from their parents who proceed them. Nurture more than nature makes these children foul monsters, albeit nature playing no small part. The children, are they to be blamed? Not as much as one would dare think, but they are not devoid of their foulness. They willfully play games that hurt and maim each other if they can go far enough, all the while feigning innocence. I've seen this at very early ages, ten to eleven years old and even younger. This evil as much as I hate to agree with our Nicolette is sadly innate. It can be controlled and thusly regulated, but it cannot ever be overcome entirely.

Do I believe Sylvia's endeavor is as fruitless as Nicolette states? No. For if we start young enough as we do here, we can circumvent much of that behavior. Even our children rebel against us,, but at the same time, our brothers and sisters regulate their desires as they grow in such a way, we can turn their vices into a natural motivational tool. I believe our commander's vision to change these people can indeed be met, but as your daughter taught me, I must curve my expectations to be reasonable as opposed to naively hopeful."

Gregson turned back to the window, "I see. Hmm." He looked out over the flowing fields of wheat and the high emerald hills of the orchards far beyond. As he thought on all that was said, he asked, "Klinger, what of the Chinese? My daughter has equal praises of them from her exposure to them as well as condemnation. What is your view of these people?"

Yolanda spoke, "They are a people that started akin to who we were. But once tasting the lucrative fruits of capitalism and holding those treasures in their hands, they too became perverted in their visions. They embraced the benefits of capitalism. As they embraced as your daughter would call 'greed's free market,', they strayed wildly from the mantra that founded their new people: To each according to his need, to each according to his ability. Their people are the epitome of a character study in the realms of satire. Their wealthy are immensely wealthy, immensely powerful, and well-fed, while the working poor is living in less than shacks in fear of being destroyed for dissent.

They learned all too well from Joseph Stalin's teachings that it is better to be in control and abundant than in control, humble, and lending an ear to the plight of the people.

Their Western 'adversaries,' as they call them, are sadly no better. They are the opposite only in motivation and presentation, writhing snakes who eat each other in the name of self-promotion and recognition. They pilfer each other's ideas and capitalize from those thefts; they enslave their people through the coils of insurance programs. These programs pay such trivial amounts unless you have the means to pay for primed insurance that they might as well be piddling pittances. It's all a joke. Their workers are exhausted without any form of recourse to better their lives except maybe a fifth of whiskey to medicate their woes and vexation of spirit.

The migrations of their people throughout history have been. Hence, the providers of jobs get cheaper labor from the impoverished rural poor, and they don't give a shit about exploiting you out of your ignorance, but this is not unique among them.

In short, much as your own daughter has said in her agony, the wealthy are the nations who haven't been plundered and raped by the other countries due to an accord. The poorest of their race are from those lands which have been plundered to the nth degree; worn down to the very nub."

Gregson raised his hand, signaling enough, "I can see Sylvia's anger; I can understand it. All these charges against the horizon, how long has this been going on?"

Yolanda sighed and replied, "Since time in memoriam. Unfortunately, Nicolette has a valid point. Even if we correct them, it only takes knowledge of our goings-on to exploit even the best model. The sadder truth, the more we'd suppress that truth, the more the public would come to accept it as the truth. Equally, as much as I hate to admit it, there is no winning with these people. There will always be a grievance of some kind as they are never sated."

"If rebellion is truly innate, but as it has been proved, we can control that to a point, it is still worth a shot." Gregson replied, "That said, we have regular intellectual audits of our own maintainers to keep corruption as far from us as possible. However, as we saw with the late Takeo, all it takes is a man on the inside to legalize the element of clandestine life or, at worst, clandestine actions spitting in the face of the law. So," Gregson smiled, "something neither of you thought of but something that should be obvious. What do you do to the system that is inherently going to be infected at some point; but is run on the foundation of meritocracy? Anyone?"

The two looked at each other and looked at the General. Gregson smiled, "The answer is, you let the ever-thirsty snakes eat each other. There is no shortage of those seeking advancement due to, as you say, their own greed. We are not devoid of greed here, not at all. Instead we stem our greed into a system that rewards work. We want more of a particular thing, say tele allowance of the nudie channels, or we want more reefer to enter the transcendental plane? Simple, we know because you are greedy and largely self-serving, you'll work for it. Either by hard work or in the worst case, because you see a short-cut will exploit said short-cut until you can't.

Sylvia knew this going in. That is why when she took over from old black britches, she instituted that every quarter pound of every substance, every allowance we give to the people through Heringsdagther house, must be accounted for. Yes, corruption is inherent in our system, but so is tooth decay to a human being. That is why, sadly, if you want the most out of a fucked-up society as what you portray, you must accept their evil ways at first and then turn it entirely on them. As in psychology, all you need do to make a man or woman covet a thing is to make it challenging to attain. But that reward, the same reward as the dopamine you get from lifting weight, is the same hit you get from receiving your stash for your merits."

Nicolette was surprised, "But how do you keep the trunk itself from becoming rotten? I mean, what keeps someone from drumming up charges if they know how to work the system."

"Ah, good question. There are the Watchers who watch the counter, and the true eyes in the sky watch the watchers. There is a form of true high power in North-Gate, but the Watchers attained their position, even though regime changes from Waldo Schaffer to present due to their meritocracy embrace. They are simply the number counters, proofers, and auditors. The regulators who follow the highest form of precise and equally broad-ranged mandates to ascertain our economic livelihood. That is why this accountability of meritocracy has worked so long. We do not repeat the past errors by paying by the hour as our fathers before us, we pay you by the bushel. That is how you get real work was done that is genuinely appraisable and of quality."

Gregson sighed, "Ladies, I know you came to me to help talk us out of what amounts to a moral genocide; let's not mince words. But the proof that Sylvia has submitted to us more than justifies a purge by flame. And I understand how you say it's a fruitless effort but look how far we've personally come as well. You can't throw the baby out with the bathwater. So, in four days, come to me with proof that refutes Sylvia's that is of genuine merit. Once you do that, we will allow disbandment. However, XANADU started this off a long time ago; it was reinforced by Waldo and Barrow and now is backed by Sylvia, who replaced her sister.

Are you suffering under Sylvia? Are either of you genuinely suffering, or are you tired and need a rest? A rest can easily be arranged. But, if you are not suffering, why are you so angry that Sylvia must take off her kid gloves and now set fire to the nest of hornets that she sees?"

Nicolette looked at Gregson, "Sir, let me ask you this. What keeps you in your position? You're nearing fifty now—"

"What keeps me in my position? Nothing. I have maintained my position through hard work. But retirement is coming for me, ladies. It's mandatory so we don't have rot from old age and old-fashioned ideals. A glimmer of hope going forward but not so much radical change upends the ship. Do you see? Sylvia can't save me any more than I can save her. But all these records in accord with your mission logs? They verify what Sylvia needs to do. You have four days, ladies, to counteroffer. That is all."

"She opened me up, Sir!" Yolanda yelled.

Gregson looked at her, "Come again?"

"She opened me up! I was her fucking test dummy for figuring out how the Horizon form of XANADU worked. I was open to his possession, and that was used to fight our current enemies. Under the Kelly Accord, that in itself is a flagrant abuse of power, regardless of who you are!"

Gregson nodded, "You should have started with that and saved time." He sat at his desk and took out a silver paper. It was the paper that Nicolette knew well. He filled out the form and, with a sigh, said, handing the paper to Nicolette, "Bring her to me. This operation is terminated forthwith."

Nicolette read the paper, and she saw the actions to be implemented; she looked at Gregson, "General, please! She doesn't deserve to be executed!"

He looked at Nicolette, his blue eyes locking with hers, and said without smiling, "She violated Heidi Klinger, a trusted chief medical officer, against her own free will. It's paramount to the rape of one of our own! It's a capital offense! I can't overlook it!"

Nicolette was stunned, and she looked at Yolanda, "Heidi, how could you?"

Yolanda said nothing to Nicolette but looking at Gregson, she said, "I'll bring the high-commander to you." She took the paper from Nicolette and headed out of the Ministry.

Nicolette looked at Gregson, who gestured to her in the form of scissors cutting upward. By this gesture, Nicolette knew that he was bound to follow through with his duty. The Ministry had bugged his office to ferret out the remains of Aelita's supporters should they emerge, and so Yolanda's charge was, in fact, an action of public record. Nicolette knew equally. Because of this, Sylvia had overplayed her hand and, due to Yolanda's charge against her, had doomed herself.

Nicolette immediately tried to catch up to Yolanda, and finding her just leaving the Ministry door, she waited until they were outside, and she yelled, "What in God's name do you think you're up to?! Do you realize what you've done?!"

Yolanda turned and looked at her, "You wished for Sylvia's upcoming actions against our neighbors to be ended; the old man didn't see the logic in ending them based on your case notes. If I were you, I wouldn't grieve. It is better, even best, that Sylvia die than all of us be brought in to hang due to her own actions that would inevitably have soured in our palates eventually. You don't understand, Nicole; you never have. I've under her command long enough to know, having lost many people, both friends and lovers, that despite your love of her, she would have pressed on and ruthlessly slaughtered countless people; even sacrificing those you love all in the name of her vision.

I cannot have that happen again, never mind stomach it the fourth time over. There's a difference between combat fatigue and following the whims of a well-meaning madwoman to your doom. I understand what Sylvia fights against; that fight has not died in me. On the contrary, you can continue that fight for her. You are her heir until her child is of age. Improvement of your own accord is what you can do to improve on your own predecessor. She has confirmed this with Brynja, and because of that, I have faith in the North-Gate vision continuing.

Sylvia is not wrong, but she's insane. Despite her words, she's utterly ruthless. You have a chance to be everything she was not, and what she was in goodness, you can improve upon. Sylvia hanged herself with her arrogance, her pride, her self-regard, and her disregard for her soldiers and followers. She has doomed herself because of all of them. It is your time at the helm now, and I suggest for the sake of the people, you make the most of it while you have the time available to you."

She checked her watch, "Come, we have a train to catch."

Later that evening, Yolanda sat in the quiet of the park and took out a cigarette and lit it. As she smoked, the nearby payphone rang beside her. She went to the phone and answered.

"You've done well, and you have achieved your mission. You can come home now."

"Not yet. I appreciate it, though. I must oversee and participate in deconstruction. It will take a few weeks at the bare minimum."

"Hmph," the voice chuckled, "Very well. You're very good at keeping up appearances. It is one of the more refined elements of your work. Jeremy and his friends have prepared, and they are nearly ready to strike the first tower. All they need do is topple three towers, and Sylvia will have additional charges of operational incompetence added to her already grave accusations.

Are you glad that you didn't falter?"

Yolanda replied, "I'm glad that I was able to see your side of things, even while young. That said, I admit, it was hard to keep a lot of what you told me in mind. She was an elegant speaker, her deeds translated to progress for so many. But she murdered just as many and almost indifferently so. I'm grateful for the lessons you have taught me, and because of what you've taught me, this nightmare is very nearly at an end."

"I'm glad you held strong; I'm proud of you for it. I will not deride her for all she's done. Sylvia made great progress. However, she was blind to what you have seen and known for some time. I wish to apologize to you, however. I wish you didn't have to suffer as long as you have for what you needed to do. I know you lost those you grew to love of her regime; that love can never be replaced. I'm sorry."

"It's one of the reasons, as I told another, this must end. Her charges will be read in the public court, and she will be given the execution she's given so many. She will not be found repentant as she terms it, and that will be on her. You are ready, Commander, for your return. As long as we're apologizing, I'm sorry you lost your Paramour. I know he was the apple of your eye, and he didn't deserve his fate."

"He knew the risks, Heidi as did you. You survived, and while I grieve him, this justice has been a long time coming. Thank you for your service, and when this is all done, you will sit as I promised you, as a heroine of the people. For once in your life, you will receive the genuine fruits of your dedication to service. You've shown great conviction and courage. Well done."

"Thank you, Commander. But there's something else you need to know—"

Meanwhile, Aelita had finished her surveillance of the Mountain sector, but what startled her most what awaited her where the tower stood. It was a massive citadel surrounding the tower. Aelita scanned the individual components, and she knew that if a straightforward sector was this way, then it was true for all of them. The citadel was walled with high walls at least fifty feet high, mounted cannons lined the perimeter, and Aelita could see the sweeping scans in terms of what the batteries could see. There were three walls to breach in the form of layer cake; if Aelita could put it to words, and just one blast of the cannon could reduce her to a quarter of health.

Monsters and more unique classifications of soldiers were on guard, but she couldn't get close enough to scan them, not without getting caught. She activated the self-devirtualization program and exited the scanner. She sat down across from Jeremy, and she saw that he had a full scan of what she could see.

Jeremy looked at the data breakdown from what he could see, and he said, "She sure as hell didn't make it easy. But I suppose if we can't get booted out once inside the tower, there had to be some major portion of security we'd overlooked. But, the good news is that as far as I can tell, the mountain sector ties into Sylvia's doctrine called 'Clean Air.' I've dug a bit farther, and it appears to be two doctrines in one, but what we're focusing on is the one not yet implemented, the utilization of the Rhone-Alpes Region for passive energy collection utilizing the winds on one aspect and wave-hydraulics from the snowmelts on the other.

Suppose we can neutralize this sector before it goes live in three weeks. In that case, we'll put a progression lock on her operations that are so profound that whomever she reports to must examine her processes. Do this one too many times, and North-Gate will be officially dissolved. So, for our first op, it's going to have to be within a three-week window."

Aelita nodded, "Best you get started on the asset compromisation factor and start the docile duplicates then. Because as soon as we kick off this attack, who knows what will come our way."

"That's what I'm afraid of. We need to get Yumi and Ulrich in training and train them as much as possible while the hostile forces are being replaced. But the reward is so high for this; we can't afford to not take it."

Aelita took out her phone, "I'll call Ulrich."

Ulrich, after his discussion with Aelita, understood what was to commence. It was far from ideal, but it needed to happen. He sat alongside Yumi, and he knew what he had to say, but it still was a touchy subject, at the very least.

"Yumi, that was Aelita. We have a chance to end this and end it fast. But we need to prepare."

"Why would she do this to me?" Yumi asked, "I was used to XANA and his version of divide and conquer. But this, I never would have anticipated this."

Ulrich nodded, "I know. But if you stand with us and help us, we can rid our earth of Sylvia and her people forever. We can finally put our boot on her neck and break it. But—you have to be willing to help us; we can't do this alone."

Yumi nodded, "She used us, she killed, no, slaughtered innocent people—I'll more than help you, and when that moment comes, we annihilate her."

Ulrich nodded, and he was preparing to call back Aelita when Yumi asked, "What about Odd? We'll need him too."

"We can't trust him, exactly. But, I'll ask." Ulrich replied as he pressed the call button.

That evening Odd received a phone call. He'd just finished his vote essay the day before, and seeing it was a call from Aelita; he understandably was nervous as he answered, "H-Hello?"

"We're going to make a strike against her. Are you with us or not? I don't have time to debate."

"I am," Odd replied, his tone resolute.

"That's all I needed to hear. Training starts tomorrow afternoon. Provided you can make it here, join us for as many training sessions as you can. Believe me; we're all going to need them."

"How bad is it?" Odd asked.

"We're dealing with a genuine fortress, Odd. Believe me; we'll need all the training we can get. I'll see you soon."

Aelita looked at Jeremy and said, "We have everyone we can gather, and as we've agreed, Odd's back on board. I guess, Jeremy, we're going to have to believe him with his change. But if he betrays us, I swear I'll throw him into the digital sea myself."

Jeremy nodded, "I wouldn't blame you. Alright, so we're set to go. I'm going to get the training room ready tonight so it should be finished with all it needs by early morning."

Aelita replied, "I'm going to check on Amelia. I want to make sure she's okay."

Jeremy looked at her, "You care for her, don't you?"

Aelita looked back at him from the doorway to the hermitage living room, "Honestly, yes. She's the only one in Kadic who genuinely cares about us, and she defended Ulrich against Hertz's harshest rebukes. I know that she blames herself for all that's going on; she needn't. She did the very best she could, and frankly, from what I believe was an attack from Sylvia, may be just another part of her plan. To demoralize another form of support for all of us. I'll see you tomorrow, Jeremy."

Soon Aelita was back at her room door, and she gently knocked and entered. Amelia was on her bed, and she turned to look at Aelita, "Oh, hi."

Aelita smiled, "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm—doing alright. My dad is going to take me to a specialist for a week or two. So, I won't see this place for a while."

Aelita nodded; it was worse than she'd hoped. She sat down next to Amelia, "Look, Ame, it's not your fault what happened. I don't know what it was, but you didn't drive Ms. Hertz to suicide. I don't want you blaming yourself."

"It's not quite that, Pinkie. It's that—I can't get what happened out of my head. I've tried getting past it; I can't. I can't get her scream out of my head, the shattering glass, I can't; I've tried. I'm going to get some help with this,, and maybe I'll be better, but something, anything is better than having it rerun in your head repeatedly. I can't Pinkie; I can't eat, I can barely sleep, I can't fight. I—I just can't. I know I may seem strong to you but considering what keeps playing in my head, I'm terrified." She began to cry, "I just can't take it anymore."

Aelita didn't know what else to say, other than the thought that was burning in her brain, "I'm sorry, Amelia. I'm sorry that you're normal as you are. If we could only share what we've been through, maybe you'd not feel so alone."

Aelita gently embraced Amelia, who returned her embrace, and for the first time, Aelita saw it. This strong girl, brash and smart-alleckly charming as she could be, was still just as vulnerable as anyone. Aelita desperately wished she could just negate this from Amelia's mind. If anyone deserved the gift of ignorance, it was this person.

"Hey, Ame," She said, "Do you want to go to a movie tonight?"

Amelia shook her head, "Honestly, no. I appreciate the gesture, but no. I have to pack my bags tonight. I'll be leaving tomorrow." She got up and took her trunk out of the corner that Aelita hadn't even noticed until now, and she began to fold her clothes, placing them inside.

The process didn't take long, Amelia didn't have all too much with her in the room, and upon snapping the trunk shut, she said, her back to Aelita, "Pinkie, you're a very good person, a kind person; a gentle soul who takes far more shit than she deserves. The world won't always respect that, but I do. No matter what happens to you in life, don't lose your kindness; it's a damn rare thing these days. I'm going to sleep in the infirmary, and I might see you before breakfast tomorrow, but, for now, this is goodbye and goodnight."

Aelita saw the door close, and as she lay back on her bed, she gently began to weep. All that happened with North-Gate, with Sylvia now came back to the surface. Sylvia's evil was on her mind, and now Amelia was on her mind, and so regrettably that night, Aelita was very restless. She'd gotten up twice to see Amelia in the infirmary the second time she stayed.

This stranger had been a bulwark, far kinder, coarse in her language and demeanor, sure. But she was kinder. Far kinder than Sylvia had been, far more considerate than even Odd's form of encouragement at times. It was weird. She's spent only a portion of a little time with Amelia, and yet—Aelita never wanted to see someone who would go to bat for not only her but Ulrich and the others to suffer in this way. She couldn't erase the memories this time; it was far too late for that.

Aelita looked at Mr. Beck, who only kept the radio on low on Amelia's favorite channel, an oldies channel broadcasting nightly tunes from the fifties and sixties, while he watched over his daughter. It was different that night, different than all before. As Aelita sat on the bed near Amelia as the young girl slept, the gentle songs of Frankie Valli and then the Beatles soothed her as the air conditioner cooled the room. There were times where Amelia would weep in her sleep but then suddenly thrash with her arms and then her eyes shot opened. The thrashing continued, and Aelita was certainly afraid. Despite this, she wished to do something about it, but Beck's hand stopped her.

"Night Terrors." He said gently. "It comes from her upbringing, love. She's been through a lot. Let her be. She won't remember even if she wakes up."

Around two in the morning, the gentle hand of Mr. Beck awoke Aelita and, with soft tones, prompted her to go back to her room. She obeyed, but, in her heart, Aelita knew that Sylvia had to be ended; be she noble in intent or not. For the road to Hell was paved with such intentions and what she'd seen in just a few days with Amelia, first shutting down, and then having a horrid sleep as a result of what she'd seen with Mrs. Hertz, finally the referral to a specialist, this madness had to be stopped.