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Note: English is not my native language, and I lack beta/proofreader, therefore expect mistakes and wonky grammar.

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A good part of the next day was spent in the markets, meagre as they were. While inspecting the stalls she passed by buildings hastily refurbished into small warehouses, and repurposed garlean loaders, now acting as something of a transport. The few workers around them had the look of people for whom the road was also a home – in the worst kind of sense.

But from what she could see, from all the wares being sold, it didn't take her long to realise that most if came from the Ala Mhigo. Were the town's residents that dependant on their former enemy even for basic goods? Medicine and weapons she could understand, but food and drink as well? Either way, it wasn't likely that anything 'liberated' from the abandoned properties was going to turn up on local stalls. No, those are most likely to be carted off across the border.

Regardless, if she wanted to do anything, she'll have to get a map of the town. She glanced over at cleverly hidden manhole covers, the metal blending in with beautifully paved stone roads. And not just the one – she will need the map of the sewers as well. Which would require a trip to the town's archives. ...If there even were archives still standing. Terncliff wasn't raised to the ground but it didn't wholly escape recent destruction. There was no knowing if any bureaucracy survived the war.

She reached up, touched her shattered horn, and shivered. It was re-growing but nowhere near the speed that would be of help for this excursion. That meant that she will also need a way to be able to navigate any potential maze she might encounter. Maybe Cid had something that could help her. Or could put together reasonably fast.

The Echo, loud as it was, had not been relevant to her current interest, nor had it shown anything relevant since setting foot into Terncliff.

So engrossed in her plans she was that she barely took notice of the large shadow passing over her. She paid it little mind, she had seen Mark II yesterday gallivanting about in the sky above the town. It was only after the bloody thing had the audacity to fly too close to the ground, and her, that she looked up. Hairs breathe away, almost tauntingly in the way it was perfectly holding balance hovering above the street, she saw the familiar bright blue glow of Mark I before it spun and disappeared in the direction of the ocean.

Mild annoyance at this rude behaviour aside, it was all the information she needed to know that the Chief was back in town and she rushed back to her room to get the package and to finally deliver it to its rightful place. Although, given Mikoto's disposition, Kebhut suspected a few more were in the making.

While making her way into the hangar she did spot a number of large non-descriptive crates, off to the side, as if waiting to be carted off elsewhere. With the members of the local resistance even guarding them while waiting for an airship to arrive.

"It's good to see you, though I was fully expecting of you to be otherwise engaged... ooff..." Cid took the package from her hands, arms straining and teeth clenching suddenly under the weight.

The warrior shook her head. "I sent no word. From Mikoto."

"Got to say... that girl is far too diligent at times. How are the matters with the Telophoroi?" He asked even as he shifted the box with, a heavy and suffering huff, onto a free surface nearby, pushing it in so not to get in the way, or topple down. Kebhut didn't think the box was that heavy.

"Same. Little of note is going on."

"All I've got to say is if you're planning to stay, there are a few things we could use a hand with." At that, she looked up at the empty space where usually the machina would be, but the garlean shook his head. "Not to worry. We've got that covered. It's a mundane, day-to-day thing. Involves construction. I heard you had some experience with that..." He tried and failed to stifle a yawn. "...but maybe we could discuss the details a bit later."

She doubted what she did was in any way comparable to actual 'construction', but looking at him now she decided to stay silent for a different reason. There was no denying it – Cid looked as if a squadron of machina recently trampled him over. Or he had landed in the clutches of whoever kept his books. That is to say – he looked absolutely exhausted and was probably only standing due to a large intake of caffeine or bitter tea, or other alchemical products best left unnamed. It made her wonder if she should bring up the need for a certain type of equipment right now. Alternatively, she could ask Nero... except, she knew that would end up being a poor decision on her part.

Her eyes moved back to the G-Warrior's empty spot. "I was told that you had it turned into a two-seater?"

"Precisely so."

The Warrior of Light raised an eyebrow. "Is there some fine nuance I'm missing here?"

"Of course, there's a difference..." Another yawn. "You being who you are, I can't think of anyone else readily available who can, at the same time, speed-up and fire at max capacity, and not drop half-dead from exhaustion." Absentmindedly, he placed a hand on the box. "It can still function with a single pilot," he gestured with his head at the screen, "but for the more intense use, two people would be ideal."

'Intense use' meaning 'raging battle' in this case.

Sound logic, especially if the Ironworks were planning to make, or repurpose, more of Allagan mech for the upcoming conflict. All things considered, there was a good chance they might need them. She turned to look at the screen where the blue and white machina was making precise movements above the water and being even more precise with downing its targets. Practically pirouetting on the imaginary battlefield.

"And who is piloting it now?"

"The only other individual who has more experience than you."

She blinked, owlishly. "Allie?"

"All this time later, and I still can't tell if you're joking or not," Cid he declaimed, a gleeful twinkle in his tired eyes.

"I am merely surprised he'd even dare enter one after what happened."

Cid was only momentarily silent. "He volunteered." For a moment there, he looked like he was to add something more, but held back. Eyes returning to the screen, Kebhut let out a thoughtful 'huh'.

As the day was coming to an end, she looked towards the horizon where the dark clouds were gathering, with sudden specks of light flashing in between. The weather was fast-changing. It was known to turn so quickly in the open water. But that didn't change what she was planning to do. She could only hope that the local water drainage systems still worked because she still had every intention to visit the sewers. Next to her, Cid let out a mild curse and called for the G-Protector Mark I to return to the base. It didn't seem like testing in hazardous weather conditions was on schedule for today.

The machina gracefully pivoted about setting course back towards Terncliff, and before long, the machina was settling back into the hangar.

"Are you certain you don't need more testing?" She asked watching the pilot get out, vault down to the catwalk, and heading towards the two. Her eyes narrowed even as Cid waved her question away.

"Not right now, no. We have your data from the engagement with all the Weapons, but you can be sure I'll call you as soon as we hit a wall." He turned to Gaius, as he approached. "How was it?"

A bronze-skinned man closed in and his sheer size on the catwalk forced her to slide away. "The crystals hold, but I suspect they'll be more useful to someone who can actively manipulate the flow of aether."

She leaned back against the railing – taking an assessing, and entirely non-clinical glance at the rest of him head to toe, and back, earning a raised eyebrow from him. With a mild grimace, she looked back at Cid. "A suit?"

"Odd that you'd be upset over not getting one." Golden eyes flicked to her, lingering on her a few seconds too long, in open assessment.

Loader moved above them, too fast, not slowing down and crashing into a ladder and spooking some of the engineers. Cid turned to uncharacteristically yell at whomever so carelessly tampered with the settings. The cacophony that was a busy hangar masked another sound, much closer to the group. Well, mostly. A keen eye could easily spot the moment her tail had lashed against the railing behind her, leaving a solid dent in it.

The Garlean leaned back and stared, a sardonic challenge on his features. Kebhut pursed her lips, letting her narrowed eyes trail over him.

"I didn't think you need one." When he saw her frown slowly turn towards him, Cid lifted his hands passively. "No, think about it, you know how to handle yourself better than anyone I know. I'd wager you could roll in from Moonfire Faire, and still wouldn't feel any of the side-effects of G-Warrior going into the overdrive."

"I don't-" 'partake in it', she wanted to say, but stopped herself. It wasn't important. There was a brief buzz against her horn, her linkpearl chiming in. After a moment, or two or three of receiving news, she cut the connection and breathed out.

"The Telophoroi?"

A nod and a vague shrug, but at least she added, "A report on their activities. I should hear it," as she turned to leave. There was no point in staying any longer. She will simply have to talk to Cid tomorrow, when he is not about to fall off his feet, or is not as engrossed in the machina's data as he was now.

She walked past the workers and boxes containing spare parts or other new and exciting inventions, loading machines, and oversized tools necessary to make the machina work. Like a treadmill on narrow walkways and claustrophobic corridors, and she had to brave it all just to reach the elevator.

Nausea hit her so suddenly that she barely managed to catch herself on the railing, bracing herself there and going down on one knee. The pain didn't hit, not right away. A burning sensation spread from her entire side like a crackling spider web, so white-hot and intense she had to shut her eyes at the influx of memories that were not her own.

She looked up, only to meet with pair of golden ones in the distance. She blinked the tears away but they fell down her face instead. Changing rooms... yes. They must've been in this direction. The corner closing to the elevator. She wouldn't know. She didn't need that kind of protection apparently.

A silly thought to cross her mind about now.

Scrambling to her unsteady feet, she pushed her way through hallways, twisting through doors in the darkness until she reached the exit.

Outside the rain was like a dirty curtain someone had haphazardly thrown across the town. The crisp damp scent of moisture and ozone clung to the ancient stones. One more set of winding steps – cramped and claustrophobic, like running up a well-shaft – and then she found herself on a long, narrow balcony overlooking the ocean.

The balcony was deserted, and she crouched against the inner wall of worn stones and tried to rub some comfort back into her throbbing head. It hurt like the aftermath of getting smash-faced drunk without any of the fun. Then long, painful minutes of waiting. For a moment, she even allowed herself to relax.

And then the sound of footsteps quickly approaching, just as another gait – loud, confident, and punctuated by the creaking of leather. Well, this was some kind of gods-awful pathetic joke. It had to be. Everything screamed of it. Why else would Gaius van Baelsar, and not one of the Scions, be the first one to catch her in this sorry state?

As the silent moment settled between them the clock tower began to chime, its sound half-lost among the crashing waves and rolling thunder. He took up a spot right across from her, his back to a column. He let the silence drag on, she'll speak when she chooses to, and instead of making a quick inspection of their surroundings – a crumpled, dirty bedroll in a corner, empty wine bottles, bits of eggshell, discarded from someone's breakfast... someone had made a residence here. Surely not her. One of the less fortunate townsfolk or a stray soldier?

Inhaling deeply, the raen dared to look up. Her expression was a strange contrast to speak of – neutrality and distance combined with raw emotion and a trail of tears clearly marked against her cheeks. She offered a small wave with her hand, a gesture of dismissal. "They're not mine."

It took him but a moment to realize what she meant. Indeed, his mind had conjured up a rather different scenario. "The Echo? Is it not merely an ability that shares with you a vision of the past?"

She rested the back of her head against the stone and closed her eyes, focusing on slowing down her breathing. It was close, but at least she didn't lose her entire meal this time.

"Vision? ...that's putting it uncharacteristically lightly." She took in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as the emotions ebbed away. "It's..." she clicked her tongue as thunder rolled above them, and she heard the voices from the past, like old friends whispering against her horn. "...everything." And there were so many – not just echoes anymore, but memory bleeding into her reality.

"I had not thought it to be quite this extensive." No – invasive, would be a more appropriate term from the looks of things. Perhaps it was best not to know whose memories it was that she had glimpsed. It did not seem a pleasant experience. And her continued silence on the topic could only mean there was no relevant insight to share.

Kebhut forced her shoulders into a shrug. "I have quite a few of Livia's memories I can do without. The less said about them the better."

"I am sure." He cocked an eyebrow, the attempt at irony somewhat spoiled by the fact that traces of tears were still etched across her face. The Garlean shot her a troubled look – two parts concern, one part amused aggravation – before his lips curled into a lopsided smirk. "Was that why you were looking forward to piloting the G-Warrior? To expend aether..." He trailed off. Another glance, yellow and rich like amber under thick black lashes.

She didn't answer and kept her face neutral as Gaius turned to her. His gaze dragged over her… slower than she would have expected. Now, he was more certain than ever that what he witnessed that night, on top of the pylons, was private – far more personal than he initially believed. Did she have another such episode?

"If you do not mind the offer, perhaps we should take this discussion to a less exposed location," his voice was rich and velvety but no less did feel as if he was trying to soothe a dangerous beast.

"Why?"

"Because I do not believe that you'd wish to climb the pylons in this weather."

She dragged her gaze from his silent, expectant scrutiny, and faced the ocean. The garlean remained anchored in her peripheral vision – silvered shadow lit by flashes of lightning. They stayed in silence for a few minutes. Above the cliffs, the sky was churning like a whirlpool. He stood as stiff as a statue and waited.

Finally, she climbed to her feet, forced herself to keep steady. No weakness was allowed.

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