Before she even opened her eyes, she felt the cold, wet ink under her palm.
The black liquid coated every pile of books around her, forming a trail that stretched into the distance. She didn't have to glance around for long, before she saw the kneeling silhouette under the grey sky, leaning on her scimitar.
"Gee," Brøø wiped the ink off her brows with her spare hand, "You've missed...a pretty cool battle."
The girl sounded as cheerful as ever, but the strain in her voice was unmistakable. Without a word, she rushed over to Brøø's side and lifted her onto her shoulder. More ink got on her own sleeves in the process, but as the liquid dripped away, she could see the black marking on Brøø's skin again, spreading and writhing like shadowy tendrils.
"No, really, I've never seen anything like that. It must've been pretty miffed, after getting stuck in that deep hole for so long..."
"Sheesh."
"Hey, don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna kick the bucket yet. For the second time, I mean." Brøø sat down, still leaning against her. "By the way, if you see any shadowy things in the distance that didn't look human, and I'm not here, promise me you'd start bolting in the opposite direction."
She should be protesting, saying she'd protect Brøø and they'd get through this together, no matter what lay ahead. But the reality of...everything that had been going on in the past few days just choked her up. Brøø was always the capable one, who had it all together and knew everything about this plane, while she couldn't even get her weapon to stay.
So she just nodded, and hugged the girl tighter. For a brief moment, it looked like Brøø was going to doze off again, before she abruptly sat up and reached for the books on her back.
"Don't move, let me help you—"
Brøø was faster than her, however. The belt quickly fell, along with the books strapped on it.
"Aww. Thanks," Brøø grabbed the books, and held them close to her chest, "But I won't be keeping them much longer. I'd hate to...lose my friends' books in an ink puddle or something."
"You want me to keep them?"
Her question was quickly met with a nod, as Brøø dumped them on her laps, keeping only a single blue one for herself. The way Brøø's brows furrowed together as she flipped through the pages only fueled her worries, until another page was finally fished out of it.
"See this?" Brøø pointed to the three crowns on the page, before pointing to the identical ones on her head, "And these? I want you to keep my memories too. I've been losing a lot of them recently, even though I don't know how many pages were gone, which was more scary, if you ask me—"
This time, when Brøø shoved the page towards her, she grabbed the girl's wrists and shook her head. "Would you stop putting up death flags for yourself?!"
"The flag's been proudly flying in the wind for twenty years, I'm afraid—"
"Thanks for the reminder! Yeah, we are in very real risks of suffering a worst fate than death in the near future!" Her yell had raised into a shriek at the very end, as she picked up the books and shoved them back into Brøø's arms, "But you sound like you are so sure that you won't get through it, even though I'm the hapless idiot here, and that kind of thinking is just depressing!"
"I won't be here for long, even if we get through it, y'know?" Brøø closed her eyes, "And dying isn't all that scary, once you've gone through it once. Being forgotten is worse, and most people who remembered me were dead. I've been keeping them alive, they've been keeping me alive...well, not really, you get the idea. But after I forgot everything, they'd be, I dunno, just a little deader?"
When Brøø opened her eyes again, there was a sorrowful smile on her face. "So please, remember our happiest moments together for me. Keep them alive for me. That's all I'm asking from you."
The little kid phantom, as if sensing her overwhelming dread, chose to pop up at that moment. She didn't even realize she was up and running after it, until the familiar light flooded her vision.
Maybe if she delayed the inevitable acceptance long enough, the actual doom hanging above their heads would fall at a later time.
—She heard the sound of cackling flames, before she even saw the burn-out husk of the jet. The moment she lay her eyes on it, she knew that her flight had been a futile one.
The Y-AR jet, its translucent wings shattered and twin radar antennas snapped in half, looked like a moth that had flown too close to the fire. She'd seen a lot of them in the past few months. Both the jets and the moths, as the power lines went out one by one, and people were carried into tents under flickering candle lights, and the jets took off in flocks, never to return.
She should've at least dragged the pilot's body out of the wreckage. Instead, she turned away, without even touching the ground. The burial would just be another task they didn't have the manpower for, and keeping the dwindling number of her people alive was already hard enough.
The return flight felt like one long, drawn-out dream. She was keenly aware that it wasn't one, she was no longer a kid, and the pleasant dreams were long gone when the first round of bombing came.
But she just couldn't stop thinking about the Y-AR jet. How these archaic fighter jets should've stayed in Lynka's story books and her toy piles, instead of being dragged out of warehouses and blasted to pieces by artilleries that were centuries younger than them.
Ice crunched under her boots, as she landed near the cluster of makeshift tents and reverted to her human form. It wasn't even snowing, but the cold wind that came after weeks of rain had frozen all the moisture, as well as sweeping up all the ashes in the air and dumping them across its path.
The dirty black ice hardly glimmered when the lights around the airfield lit up, followed by a booming roar. She flinched, even though the sounds of a Tempest Warp Drive were nothing like the bombings and the artillery fires.
At least the loud noise cleared her mind. She dashed into the tent and pointed outside. The elderly sergeant, sitting by the candle lights, jumped up and yelled out the instructions that she no longer had the energy to repeat.
"Final trip! Final trip! Make space for the stretchers! Those who can still walk come last! Go go go!"
Pained groans and many swear words made their way into her ears, as she joined the few standing soldiers and started carrying the most heavily injured people towards the airfield. The Tempest-2000's bright yellow exterior could be seen, even when all but the dimmest lights around the field were switched off.
The last surviving jet of its kind, and the fastest one at Tari's disposal. Images of it bouncing around like a literal boomerang, across the strait, flashed across her mind. It was a silly thought for the moment, considering how the stench of blood and grime was even stronger in the chilling wind, and how most of the people carried into the jet didn't even stir.
Just as the last stretcher was carried up the slanted walkway, a bloodcurdling scream erupted through the air. The source of it was writhing against the stretcher's frame, making clumsy grabs at the nearest soldier as he tried to roll off the stretcher.
"It's gonna be over soon, they'd take care of ya', once we get to—"
"Darn right! So leave me here! Let some other kids in there take my spot!" The man screamed. Blood was soaking through the bandages around the stumps of his knees. "Bunch of babies tryin' to be brave, that's what they are! Don't you let them stay and die!"
"We aren't letting you stay and die, either." The young couple carrying him shook their heads together.
"Well, if I'm gonna die, I'm dying on Tari's soil!" As the couple resumed their steps, he made one last lunge in her direction, his wrinkled face scrunched up in agony and fear. "Don't do this to me, milady! Don't do this to me..."
Without a word, she gestured for the couple to hurry up and walked back into the tent. The old man's sobs sounded almost like the howling of a beast, echoing endlessly as more people shambled up the walkway, hobbling on crutches, holding their casts, until the door finally slammed shut.
After one last roar of the Warp Drive, everything was silent. The few squads of soldiers left in the tents soon took their leave, dragging trolleys loaded with sacks and crates towards the vehicles in the distance. Retreat, that was the order. Towards the heart of Tari. She had the feeling she wouldn't be seeing them again.
Only now did she catch sight of the small, pale shadow, gazing at her from the very back of the tent, sitting on a hammock. Her blonde hair was losing its luster, and the glowing silver aura around her gloves was long gone.
"It's so empty in here," Ubi whispered.
"Let's go get some fresh air, then." She grabbed her friend's hand. The soft fabric didn't warm up her own hand, but holding onto someone reminded her that her feet were still on solid ground.
It made the whole walk towards the airfield feel less like a bad dream.
"Where are they flying to?" The howling wind almost drowned out her friend's voice, as they stared into the dark sky together.
"The island across the strait. That nation really doesn't like outsiders, but their CPU..." She didn't know how the first jet's passengers managed to convince Amber Heart. Still, the strongest Goddess of the previous generation could at least offer some protection. "This reminds me of a thing. You didn't get onto that jet, because you don't wanna take up space for the injured, right?"
Silence. She didn't wait for a response. "Well, I've flown with the smaller jets enough times to know the way across! I can carry you there in person. So hurry up and get onto my back."
Ubi shook her head, standing as straight as a post.
"What? Okay, folks on that big island are super backwards and unfriendly, I get it. How about some other settled islands? There are plenty of them around, where no villains can ever find you." She smiled. "You can even take your hammock with you. Build a treehouse like we'd planned, before...this."
Another shake. She gritted her teeth. She knew what that silent, unflinching look meant—what about you? What will happen to you?
"Are you stupid or what? Do you think I'm still gonna win? Do you think Tari ever stands a chance?" She raised her voice, "T-They had Lastation City's backing! You saw their guns, their soldiers and super weapons! We don't have much time left, and if you don't wanna die, you need to get out of here!"
Yet another shake.
"Haven't your fairy friends already run away? Because of all the blood? Well, they are clearly smarter than you and know better, so go with them! You've known them much longer than you've known some...weak, spoiled kid CPU. They'll be waiting for you, right?"
"I'm not leaving my friend to die." Ubi looked up, lips minced together in stubborn defiance.
"I won't! I-I'm gonna win, and keep Lynka safe, and—"
"You are lying."
"Yeah, right, like I wanna lose! Like I wanna die! But I'm not dragging you into this, so leave me be!"
"No."
"Ugh! Can't you listen to me for once and just go? I'm begging you!"
She didn't even make a reply this time. Just shaking her head, over and over again, like a broken automaton, oblivious to the rounds of screaming and pleading that ensued.
"Well, if that's how you wanna play it—" Finally, she clenched her fists together, "Then I won't be friends with you anymore! There! Now you have no reasons to stay here like a crazy loser!"
"You don't mean it."
"Yes I do! I-I hate you, I hate you so much that I don't wanna see your stupid face anymore! And if you keep sticking around, I'm gonna exile you for insubordination! No, I'm exiling you right here, right now!" She was shrieking so loudly that for a second, she felt like she was going deaf, "I'm still Tari's CPU, a-and I can do that! Now go away, and...don't ever let me see you again!"
She kept her eyes shut after yelling out the last few words, like the coward she was. If she saw the look on Ubi's face, if she watched her disappear, she wouldn't be able to hold back the tears, and if she started feeling bad now, there was no way she'd get her to leave—
Without warning, she was pulled into a crushing hug. For the next few moments, there was only warmth and the sound of their own shallow breathings. Then the small body pulled away, ice crunching under her feet with each quick step. When she opened her eyes again, her friend was gone, swallowed up by the cold, dead night.
The suffocating heat surged through her again, stronger than ever, burning in her chest, choking up her throat. Before she knew it, she had zoomed into the air, where no one could hear her screaming at herself to stop crying, because these soldiers on the ground weren't giving their faith to—and dying for—a crybaby Goddess.
But it was a lost battle. Just like every other battle Tari had fought in the past several months.
[Verifying Credentials...]
[Signal Detected from Subdermal Implant #U81]
[Begin Transmission]
Hiya, Commander Daisy Bunny. Checking on your favorite expendable asset again?
Mmmm. Since when are you allowed to make up call names.
Since the day I dubbed myself Potato, Destroyer of Worlds.
...How old are you, five? I have a job for you.
Alright. How much are you paying Auntie Potato for it?
You're in no place to bargain, an' you know it. But this time...if she comes back alive, as much as the UAS can offer. Cuz "The Cage is Broken".
Woah. For real? How do you guys know with such certainty from an ocean away? Also, keep the price specific, please.
None of your fuckin' business. Sendin' the coordinates to you now. Report all notable activities in the area. No killin'. No contact with your Order friends. Five thousand credits. Deal?
Ah, so that's why there were so many drones buzzing around an empty field, like a herd of Pongmas reindeers. Armed with death lasers.
Mmmm. Are you on the spot?
My hacked drones are. Oh, Tari...what a pleasant name for a dead nation. Just rolls off your tongue. Almost felt like I'd been here before, y' know?
I don't care. You takin' the offer? No?
Yes. I'll be on the lookout for your protégé too. Or what's left of her. If it ever falls through the gaps.
...Go fuck yourself.
[End Transmission]
Commander, a word. It isn't good to dwell too much on the past, if you know what I'm talking about?
Darn. Not a talker, that woman. Not at all.