DAY 7

Sully

Despite years of climbing mile high walls, ducking and covering in hour long firefights, sweat beaded down my forehead, just from putting in the legs of a table.

I dropped a knee on to the grass, propped up the plastic table itself while I pushed in the legs. I gave the top a couple good hammerings- with my fist- driving the piece to lock in place.

Prisons aren't usually very cheerful places. This place was no exception, no matter how many pretty flowers and food they found in it.

The trick with prison is to make it more enjoyable, I remembered telling Nathan, every time there was a risk of going there. Or when a job specifically called for it.

"What's this?" A woman's voice asked from behind me.

I saw her come through the door, from where all those rooms are. A silver short haired beautiful woman. I remembered seeing her with a stylish jacket when I first noticed her among the group. She ditched that, revealing a blouse underneath that matched her hair color.

"Got tired of eating in my bedroom," I fibbed a little, pushing myself off the ground with a grunt, "Figured this was the best way to get a change of scenery."

She looked the table up and down, brows crunched in puzzlement. Guess that explanation doesn't cut it for you, huh?

"Need any help?" She beamed at me with a smile.

Nevermind, I thought, shooting my own at her.

I stood up and took a look at my work. One table made, 3 chairs. Two more tables sat unmade to the side, so we have a lot more room to work with.

"Not sure how you can," I fibbed again, just to see if she works for it, "This table just pops together."

"Where'd you get it?" She asked.

"That guy in the wheelchair, Mr Glass, printed the parts for me on that 3d printer," the truth this time, "That thing's a miracle worker!"

I remember perusing through the warehouse, when I caught him having that giant green guy- Marcus- lug the machine out of the crates. He had it print out the tables and chairs overnight.

He... didn't like the wait too much.

She rubbed her chin in thought. "Maybe I can help with the cooking? Also, you're…" She eyed the table, and I could see her counting right then, "...gonna need some more chairs."

Okay, so you're looking to keep busy.

"Guess you can," I held out a hand, "I'm Victor Sullivan, friends call me Sully. And you are…?"

"I'm Kara," She gave hers.

My smile grew wide, and I took her hand and planted a kiss, "A pleasure to meet you, Kara."

Kaneki

Damn, my stomach growled, I'm so hungry.

Another day having not eaten. The ones I ate should have been enough for the month, but the starvation is already settling in fast.

Maybe dying and coming back had something to do with it... Like something was lost...

The creature- Wrex- still brought me food. Today was pork. Ordinary food. Not ghoul food. And why would they? I'm just trouble for them. Another monster.

Another growl; I grunted at the pain this one came with.

The door swung open.

I didn't bother getting up from my bed- or turning away from the wall to face them. The clacking of high heels told me who it was.

I groaned.

"You're awake?" The bitch, Tsunemori, asked.

I clutched at the stabbing pain in my belly, "I need food."

Her tone was unsympathetic, "We gave you food."

What the hell do you mean?! Have you not been listening to me?

"I can't eat your food," I repeated for the seventh time since being locked up in here.

"So you want us to feed you a person? That's insane."

I turned around and faced her, and right then it dawned on me that this might be on purpose. That I could be in some kind of special Ghoul detention center. That the woman in front of me is either some kind of guard, or official, or investigator...or torturer. The monsters were some... hideous experiments.

A pain grows in the back of my throat, "Then kill me."

"What?" She asked casually, as if I told her the sky was green; more ridiculous than serious.

I hiss at her. "Do not make me starve to death! Either feed me or kill me!" I got up and shouted at her face, spit flying into it.

"You don't need to eat people," She wiped it away with the sleeve of her blouse, "You're delusional."

I gaped, "What?!"

"Think about what you're saying," She faked a pleading tone, "You need to eat people to live, like you're some kind of monster!"

I was stunned into a moment of silent, raging thought... I could do it. I was starving, but I was stronger than her. I could tear right through the door...

But I wasn't stronger than the ones outside, I remembered with grinding teeth.

"I am a ghoul," I reiterated, "Ghouls have to eat humans."

She dropped to her knees, leveling with me, which raised my eyebrows.

"There have been cases of cannibals that start thinking that they're monsters," I scoffed at that, "and it's always just all in their head."

She...She's acting as if ghouls don't even exist! She thinks I'm just some psychotic serial killer!

"What if I start getting sick?!" I snapped back at her, "Will that prove it to you?"

A lie. I know what happens when I get starving enough, and it's not sick.

She stood, towering over me once more, shadows casting over her eyes, "All that will prove is that you're starving because you chose not to eat."

No...That's wrong you moron!

"Bitch!" She's crazy! "I don't have anything to prove to you then!"

Her hand flew at me. I was pushed back, her grip strong around my windpipe. My hands reached out, locking onto her elbows. Her sharp knee planted itself in my chest. It was meant to keep me down; but the only thing keeping down was my choice not to get up.

"Listen to me," her tone was vicious, "I may not believe your delusions, but everyone here that matters does. What do you think they're gonna do to the people eating monster?"

Silence is my answer.

"That's what I thought," She sneered. She released her hold of me. I should have pretended to gasp for air; I could see in her eyes for a split second that she noticed I didn't.

She turned her back to me, making for the door, but the way she kept her ear towards me told me she hadn't really let her guard down.

"Eat your food," She tossed the bags of pork on my lap, "Or at least just pretend to."

And so, she left as quickly as she came. My hand tightened into a fist. With a swift motion, it ripped the package open. I grabbed the boneless block of pork, and munched on it, tearing off a piece with my teeth.

Please be right, I chew it in the corner of my mouth, away from my tongue, Please let her be right.

Sully

"...You want me to print 30 chairs for you?" Mr Glass gave a sardonic smile, looking up at me from his wheelchair.

The printer was alive and at work behind him, the machine parts squeaking and ticking like a fax machine, a rough shape being formed out on the black platform.

Mr Glass had set up a workspace in the warehouse; a neat workbench with tools, a lamp, and something unfinished that was covered by a towel.

"Kara did the count," I pointed a thumb at her.

She was snooping on the warehouse console, and perked when I sent the spotlight to her, "if we're gonna want to seat everyone it's gotta be 30."

"What exactly are you doing?" Glass eyed us like we were two heads that sprouted on one body.

"Well-" I rubbed the back of my neck- "Kara and I have been thinking, if we're gonna be stuck here for a while, we should at least get to know each other while eating together."

A laugh that carried a sting came out of his mouth, "So you're gonna just...What? Make a dining room? You gonna make a living room? Why not make a handicap toilet too?"

"How about a place to eat comfortably," I shot back, crossing my arms. "With some grass, some artificial sunlight, a tiny river…"

"You're making it in the garden?" He snorted.

"Oh come on!" I swung my arms out, and made sure to throw a smile, "What better place can there be?"

He's really getting on my nerves now. I hadn't had a nice smoke in a while too, which wasn't helping.

"Sorry Sullivan," He shrugged, "No can do. Ripley needs the printer to make her door burners."

That's a lie, "Oh really?"

Matter a fact, I saw the ingenious lady working in her room with the door open. Said she wanted five printed, but by the third they started coming in slower and slower.

Someone's hogging the cool stuff.

He knew I knew. I saw it flash in his eyes for a split second.

"Honestly, she's our best chance of getting out of here." He praised her; good deflection work. Would've probably worked too, if he wasn't talking to a pro, "I don't know much about blast doors, but Ripley has experience with ones that hold off the vacuum of space."

"Hey Sully!" Kara called from the terminal.

"You best get that," Mr Glass spun his chair around to tend to the 3d printer, having finished the part Ripley needed.

"Oh I saw it too." I said, walking up to Kara. Using the terminal would give you a wall of text. It would take too long to sift through all the items in storage, "It's gotta be way-"

I'm cut off by the sight of her, tapping away at the touch screen at… God, that's so damn fast!

A whirring sound grabbed my attention; the robot arm in the ceiling came to life. It worked at high speeds, picking crates from the shelves and plopping them on the floor. Mr Glass turned away from his desk with furrowed brows, watching the machine. He looked at me and Kara with tight lips, but Kara could only beam a smile at him.

I walked towards the cargo, shooting glances at a smug Kara behind me. The crates had windows I could see through; preserved vacuum sealed steak, sacks of rice, fish, shrimp, a roll of outdoor lights, and...

"Holy hell…"

Cole

My knuckles firmly tapped on the door; not too much to sound aggressive, not too little to be unheard. The door was among a list of occupied rooms I'd built up with the help of Fixer- the green Commando. Delta Squad would've been an easy place to start, but it's much better to get the harder interviews out of the way first.

And from reports- or Scorch's snarky commentary- the woman that took this room looked a little rough for wear.

"Hello?" I knocked again when no one answered, "Is anyone in there?"

"What is it?" A young voice responded through the door; another Japanese speaker.

I took note of that, Japanese and light on her feet, since I couldn't hear her walk up to the door.

"Hello!" I said enthusiastically, switched from English, "We are making a list of the people here with us! may I come in?"

A pause.

I hear a chair scraping the floor, the door handle shaking. I know the sound; she had jammed the door. The handle twisted in place, meaning that she trusted my voice enough.

The door inches open, and an Asian woman, I'd say in her early 20s, peaked out. The steely look she gave contrasted with her reluctance to open the door all the way; there was a will to fight right there. I remember the look well, in soldiers readying for battle.

I decided to give a complete bow, facing the floor. "My name is Cole Phelps," I continued in Japanese, "I'm a detective and I'm from America."

I waited, holding the pose. Japanese or not, a bow is the perfect offering of trust; letting down your guard completely for someone. If she had a blade, she could kill me quickly with a strike to the nape of my neck.

"America?" A pause. Trying to find a memory to the name?

She gave up, "I don't know what that is."

So America either doesn't exist in her world, or she simply hasn't heard of it.

I stopped the bow and straightened my posture. She wasn't standing behind the crack anymore, having moved in front of it. Her black hair covered her ears and barely touched her shoulders, and she wore a white blouse and pants, belt buckles and suspenders all over it, almost like a parachute harness.

"America is a country," I searched for other forms of the word when her expression remained blank, " a Nation."

Her stare persisted. "A shogunate?" I tried for something older.

Still there. I gave it up. I'll have to get her to talk more.

"May I come in to talk?" I gestured behind her, " and I didn't get your name."

She opened the door. I saw the calculation in the simple act; She stayed in place, giving me an opening to walk in, but I'd have to walk past her. If my intentions were hostile, she could run for it, maybe even stun me when I'm at an angle where I had a disadvantage. But I could see her toned muscles through her clothes. She was strong-

I stopped my studying as I walked by, aware of her own eyes on me.

"Mikasa Ackerman," Her own voice said behind me.

Mikasa Ackerman? That's Japanese and European. I slipped my notebook and pencil out of my back pocket, and I swiftly jotted down her name and all the mental notes I had made about her, leaning against the desk in her room.

I peaked at her room in the corners of my eyes: a brown jacket and red scarf were ditched on her neatly made bed. A garbage pile was building up in the corner of her room- wrappers and plastic bags emptied of their edible contents. She doesn't want to leave her room much, I wrote down the thought.

She stayed at her place near the door, and I could feel her eyes boring into the notebook. "Where do you come from?" I misdirected.

"The Shiganshina District," She responded, her eyes on mine now. Shiganshina. Sounds Japanese.

Still had to be sure, "Where's that?"

A cross between a chuckle and a scoff escaped her lips, her arms crossing themselves; I've offended her somehow.

"At the south edge of Wall Maria," Her tone told me it was a stupid question to her.

"Wall Maria?" I said, my own tone confirming that yes, I'm pretty stupid.

She looked at me, brows furrowed, half of her annoyed and half in thought. Brows slide upwards, her hard expression going softer. That's right; you're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.

Her mouth gapes halfway. Sounds came out, but they weren't made into words.

"Everyone in this place-" I start, taking the load off of her- "comes from another land, each with a different story. Maybe you could tell me the story of your land?"

Like the edges of a leaf crumpling in a fire, the hardness grew back on her face.

"I would like you to leave," Her words were swift and made of stone.

I let a sigh come out of my mouth. I pinched the bridge of my nose, "You wouldn't be the first."

The last one I tried- 'The crazy tattoo lady,' Scorch had called her- didn't even give me her name before she demanded that I 'Get the fuck away from my door before I blow it and you to bits'.

I got up from the desk and went for the door, "Let me know when you're ready."

I passed her, and this time she didn't keep her front to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the handle to a knife sticking out of the back of her pants. This time, she didn't have her eyes on me.

I couldn't tell whether that was a good sign or not.

The door swung closed behind me, and I heard her put the chair back in its place. I sighed again, and I flipped my notebook to the list of unfinished interviews, jotting her name under Mr Glass, who kept putting me off due to being too busy with... something. Probably nothing good. Above that was William and Archibald.

"I take it you're not having any luck?" A voice called down from below the railings; Joel, looking up with his hands on his hips.

He and Ellie had been stocking their food table up with packs of food, so that anyone with a hungry stomach didn't have to walk all the way to storage to get food. Arbiter's idea, thinking the small convenience would help to put people at ease.

I noticed them half an hour ago, glancing up at me as I went door to door with no luck.

"I don't judge them," I closed my notebook and leaned my arms into the railing, "we're in a prison and I'm still behaving like a copper."

"Copper?" Ellie echoed, looking up from the basket she was filling with bags of lettuce.

Joel caught her confusion, "It's an old world for police officer."

"Oooh, like a Cop!"

I smiled at that. Sometimes, I could see that she's more than a kid; the sound of a tray being knocked over setting her off, Akane being in her sight, how she handles and pockets her knives like a pro…That last one didn't really make me happy, but I kept quiet.

Seeing her let the joy loose on her face and in her voice was a pat on my back saying she's going to be alright.

"Hey Copper!" She called up, getting up from her knees and patting them clean, "Where are you from? And when are you from?"

"When?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

She giggled at my confusion, "What year?"

...Okay, that made more sense. These two were part of the first group that got out of the killing pit. They got to know each other, and learned that not everyone came from the same place, just like how I did with Jaime at the exit sign with Mr Glass, and just like how William learned from me.

I straightened, "1947."

A gawked mouth turned into a smile, "Holy shit."

"Jesus," The same expression grew on Joel's face. "That's two years after the second world war," his words were mixed with a hearty laugh.

I made a mental note. Joel and Ellie were a mid priority in the search for leads, but if they wanted to start now, we could.

I took their question as my own, "So what year were you guys from-"

"Did you just say you were from 1947?" The angry voice of a heavily tattooed woman waltzing out of her room penetrated the conversation, "If you're full of shit I swear to god-!"

Another door opened, and the blue guy in the jumpsuit with a yellow 111 on his back stepped out.

He cocked his head at us, "What are you guys talking about?"

Another door creaked open beside me. A feminine face in a red hood poked out.

"This guy's saying he's some time traveller," The tattoo woman answered, sneering at red riding hood.

"What about you guys?" I almost blurted out, breaking the ice that had been forming. "What year was it right before you got here?" I explained to their blank stares.

"...Fuck it," Tattoos rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "2185."

My own brows nearly fell off my face, and she calls me the time traveller!

"I love your tattoos man!" Ellie, who had a grin plastered on her face during the start of this whole conversation, shouted at the woman, "And you look like you came out of a sci-fi comic!"

"...Thanks kid?" She sent a half-smile her way, "It's Jack by the way. I think I heard your name was Ellie?"

"Joel," Joel added, looking between the people gathering. "What about you, blue guy?" He said, looking the man up and down.

"I'm Nate," he crossed his arms. He tilted his head and pressed his lips together, eyes in thought, "...200 odd years after 2077."

"Shit," Jack was running the math through her head, "the 31st century." She looked at me with a sly smile, "You've officially outdone the Copper."

I winced at that.

Joel whistled, "You're great grandparents would've been babies when I was in my 20s."

"Actually," Nate held his finger up with his own sly facial expression, "I was born in 2040." At his reception of crinkled noses and puckered foreheads, he continued, "Specifically, I was... frozen in a pod...for 200 years-" He wagged his finger as if the timeline was stretched on a ruler in front of him- "Starting at 2077."

God, I thought to myself with a gaping mouth, It's like I'm in a science fiction novel!

I could see the same thoughts going through Joel and Ellie's head. Despite the age difference, a child-like wonder glowed between them. I couldn't keep the edges of my own lips from curling upwards.

"Holy cow…" Joel said for all three of us.

"2390," Red said from beside me. She stood all the way out of her room, her grey and mechanical gear in plain view of everyone. Her voice was soft, but had a firm volume. Definitely one of the hard ones among the group.

I stopped my pencil halfway from my notebook. An automatic reaction, hadn't even noticed I flipped it back open. You're thinking like a cop again Cole, I chastised myself, try a more natural approach.

"I'm from America," I said, pocketing my notebook, "I was in Los Angeles before I came here."

Franklin- a black man and one of the seven that first got out- slid out of his room next to Jack's, surprise on his face, "There's that place again!"

"America?" Jack repeated with a crinkled nose, "You mean on Earth?"

Red locked her eyes on me, "Earth?"

Then, in a showman like fashion, a voice rang through the hall, "Ladies and gentlemen!"

All our heads swivelled to the greying old man with a moustache wearing a loose short sleeved collared red shirt. A silver short-haired woman stood to his side, a soft smile on her face.

"May I have your attention?" He gave the room a good look to make sure he had it. "I know I was stepping into an interesting conversation there," He made a toothy smile and gestured at Nate, Jack, and Echo, "but I would love to invite you all to have it at the dinner table, with some warm food."

Joel and I looked at each other; he gave a shrug. I had wondered what that set up in the garden was all about. Sounds like a plan to me.

"Fuck it," Jack said after mulling over the proposal in her head, "I'm tired of eating in that room. The blue makes my stomach crawl."

Wow.

We were greeted by a table stocked with steaming food; a pile of seared and seasoned steak on a plate, sushi rolls on a wooden board, chicken fried rice in a wok, caesar salad with croutons and bacon bits, and jugs of water and lemonade. Forks, plates, spoons, cups and knives were paired up and at the ready. Flowers in vases on the table that, upon being touched, were revealed to be fakes.

Posts hung a string of light fixtures around it; perfect for when the lights go out in an hour.

Wrex was already seated at one of the tables, awaiting us, and smiled at our gawking faces.

"Where'd you get all this?" Joel asked, eyeing the steak.

The old man- Sully- gave him a pat on the shoulder, "We got the chairs from the spare rooms-"

"You're welcome by the way," Wrex commented, his plate already stuffed with food.

Sully chuckled a bit at that. "Table got 3d printed," He continued.

"Lights and flowers were already in storage," Kara filled in.

Ellie and Jack took two seats besides each other. Red sat at the far corner on the opposite side. Nate sat by himself and Franklin was walking around the table, plucking food and putting it on his plate.

"Kara, who I had the pleasure of assisting-" He rested a hand on her shoulder, but didn't leave it for too long- "found several stoves, rice makers, and ingredients."

He gestured to an assortment of said equipment, tidied and tucked away across the river stream, "We spent the rest of the day cooking, but she was a damn master at it."

...Really? I rubbed my chin, which I just realized was starting to grow facial hair, Our storage is just that well-stocked?

Sully put a finger to his lips, as if everyone attendant was being made partial to a secret.

"Even got some of these," He pulled out a large heavy box with both of his arms; something I didn't recognize.

He opened it, and out came a beer bottle. He held it out for giggling faces to see, as if unveiling a brand new car. He gave it a shake and tossed it- Jack catching it.

I stood from the seat I had taken at the corner of the other end of the table, seeing a collection of bottles sitting atop ice, "Where'd you get the ice?"

"All came ready to go in this cooler," He said, passing some more out to people- Nate and Red who held their hands out, Wrex who banged his hand on the table, Ellie who stood out and waved and would've got one if she didn't look so young, and Franklin who pulled one from the box himself.

"Along with some other pleasantries…" Sully pulled out a smaller wooden box. Me and Joel being the ones close enough to see, got to see the contents: Cigars.

"Oh," Joel slipped one out, looking down at it with a smile on his face, "Now this...this is too good to be true."

More right than you know, I took it in my hand and sniffed it, the smell of tobacco entering my nostrils, whoever built this prison wanted us to make ourselves comfortable...

Sully already had one lit with a match and in his mouth, "Still, a lot more empty seats than we-Kara, sorry darling- counted for."

I leaned back in my seat, "We've still got some people hiding in their rooms."

"What about those soldiers?" His eyes searched for their name, "Alpha-beta whatever?"

"Yeah," Jack opened her bottle on the edge of the table, "usually those guys rotate on guard duty, but that didn't happen today."

"Delta squad said they needed to talk privately about something," I said. I remember their leader and the red one ripping Scorch and Fixer away from me when I was looking for interviews.

"Anything to do with the badass out to get them?" Jack asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Maybe, I thought, and before I could answer, everyone's heads turned to the door behind me; the subjects of our conversation had walked through. The leader- the group referred to him as boss, but he publicly went as the number 38- came in behind them.

They strolled quietly towards us, scanning the scene before them. We stared at their approach. Jack bit her lip.

38 pointed, "Is that beer?"

Sully eyes locked on him, smile still on his face and lit cigar in hand. "Why yes it is," smoke plumed out of his mouth as he spoke.

Ah damn, to a group of stressed out civilians, this dinner would've looked like a god send. To disciplined soldiers, a waste of resources...

"What the hell?" Scorch looked between everything. "Were we not invited?!"

Or not. The bubble of frigid atmosphere that had been forming since Delta squad came popped, people bursting laughter.

And so, we got to eating. The lights went out just a few moments after delta squad settled in, and we lit up the fixtures against the darkness surrounding us. The commando's undid their helmets, revealing them to have the exact same faces; buzz cut, light brown. They resembled native New Zealanders. No one brought it up though, as there was still a barrier between them and us, what with them being the unofficial police force of our prison. They were very warm and lighthearted with each other though.

"Ooooh this food is delicious," Scorch said, popping sushi like candy.

"Careful there Scorch," Sev said, "Wouldn't want you adding too much weight to the team." At Scorch's appalled reaction, Fixer swiped a roll off of his squadmember's plate with a chopstick when he wasn't looking.

Jack shared more about her own history with Ellie, which turned out to be connected with Wrex; they were members of a squad under the same commander, someone named Shepard. They got into a disagreement about some things…

"She?" Wrex put his beer on the table next to his empty plate, "Commander John Shepard's a man. Unless it works...differently with you humans…"

"What?" Jack pulled the cigar out of her mouth, her brows furrowed, "It's Jane Shepard, and she's one of the most badass women I've ever come across."

While they were talking about that, Sully and Joel roped me into their own conversation. "So, what do you guys think is happening?" Sully said, taking puffs out of his Cigar.

"I…" I started mulling over the facts as I saw them. I gave up when I realized I hadn't really collected anything meaningful, "I honestly have no clue."

Joel leaned back with his arms crossed, his Cigar unlit. "I'm thinking this is all a dream."

"Sure is crazy as one," Sully nodded, "But I never had one this… clear before."

I leaned back, puffing on my own cigar. I hacked a strong cough; never was much of a smoker. Joel's thought made sense, but Sully was right in saying this is too clear, too detailed to be a dream. It could be a hallucination. My hallucination. I remembered seeing a soldier in his tent, having a conversation with someone that wasn't there. Is that me right now?

Words started climbing out of my mouth of their accord, along puffs of smoke, "I'm not very religious-"

"Oh god not this again," Joel groaned.

"-But something bigger than all of us is at play here," I finished.

"Honestly," Sully started, already having a sense of what I meant, "with all the weird shit I've seen in my life, I'd give all the wackier theories a chance."

"Hey! Guy in blue!" He suddenly called out, eyeing the far end of the table, "What do you think is going on?"

Nate had been sitting at the far end by himself, quietly picking at his plate. I couldn't help but admire the assertive energy Sully carried with him; he shamelessly silenced the table to make sure someone was included.

Nate stared wide eyed at the sudden call out, but a smile grew on his face. "I can get behind the dream stuff," he responded-which must've meant he'd been listening this entire time. But then his smile slid down into a frown. "This... isn't the first time my world has changed," He sighed as he spoke.

There was a tinge of sadness I hadn't noticed before.

"Oh this guy-" Joel still doesn't see it, glee evident in his voice-"He was frozen in a pod for 200 years. Straight outta science fiction."

"Hey!" Jack exclaimed with jealousness. "I can fling stuff with my mind!"

"I remembered that!" Ellie pumped a fist, "God that was so fucking cool!"

"Oh yeah?" Sully's tone was penetrating, cutting the conversation short. He was still talking to Nate, "Wanna talk about it?"

Everyone quieted down, attention back on Nate.

"I was a soldier," He started, fidgeting with his fork on his plate, "In America. One day, the world was ending. I remember my wife, carrying our child to the vaults."

"Vaults?" Sully echoed.

"It's kinda like a nuclear bunker-" I winced, pictures of the aftermath of Hiroshima flashing before my eyes- "Almost like this place. They said they were gonna decontaminate us in these machines." His hand clenched on his fork, "But it was a lie. They froze us. I woke 200 years later, and watched these people…" He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "They killed her. And took my boy."

The table went quiet, everyone not knowing what to say. Sully got out of his seat.

He walked over to Nate, his hand hesitating before touching his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said.

War...his world was done in by war. I gulped, wondering if his and mine were the same, mine the past his the future.

"What was her name?" Arbiter's voice caught me off guard.

He stood at the very edge of the circle of light, Akane at his side. They came from the extra living area, where they had moved into along with the Chief to keep a close eye on the hospital. Although, I suspected they wanted to keep Chief away from the general population.

Ellie saw Akane and looked away, a sneer on her face.

"Nora," Nate answered.

"The woman in orange?" Arbiter asked. I knew who he was talking about; I remember seeing the two fighting each other in the resurrection room.

"Yeah," Nate said, an exhausted sigh mixed in, "that's my wife."

"Holy shit," Ellie said out loud for the table.

You saw her die, but she's here?

"Holy cow," Sully rubbed his jaw, "your wife packs a mean punch by the way. So this place brought her back?"

"Brought her back different. She seems...weathered. She was just a law school grad when the bombs fell," Nate deflated. His wife was back, but at the same time she...wasn't the person he knew anymore.

"She had to adapt," Joel said in a matter of fact tone. Cheeriest man in the room, right there.

A scoff; Franklin crossed his arms, "Is somebody gonna explain to this man the alternate reality stuff?"

Joel gave him a deadpan, "Horseshit."

Nate looked confused, "What?"

Then, Akane bursted. "What are you all saying?!" She shouted with frustration in Japanese.

I was stunned. She had been there- No, she had been here the past several days, watching us speak, without understanding a single word. Isolated. All eyes were on her now, but some, namely Ellie, looked anywhere but at her.

Okay, give the lady a hand Cole. I prepared to translate, but was beaten to it.

"...Damn it," Wrex said, his device sending his words out in Japanese. "Hang on just a minute."

His arm glowed it's golden patterns. Wrex tapped at it, and a golden sphere appeared in the air. It hovered to Akane.

"Go ahead," he said in English, but Akane appeared to have understood him.

"Hello?" Woah. Her voice came out of the sphere, out of sync with her mouth. But in English.

"How in the hell…?" Jack crinkled her brows at the sphere.

Wrex had a very human-like smug expression on his face, "When I ran clan Urdnot, some clan delegates were too damn stubborn to use translators, especially when negotiating with alien contractors. It cost me a lot of credits, but it was damn well worth it."

"Maam?" Sully seemed to have meant the word as a test to see if she got it. She did, "I don't believe I caught your name?"

"It's Akane Tsunemori," She stood straight, her nervous and frustrated demeanor replaced with a professional rigidity. A salute would've completed it, "I'm an inspector with the Japanese Public Safety Bureau."

A warm and inviting smile appeared on Sully's face, "Pleased to meet you."

Everyone reintroduced themselves for her, then brought her up to speed on what we were talking about, Franklin continuing on about his alternate universe theory, which Akane thought was absurd.

The rest of the dinner went on with laughter and good conversation. Briefly, I pulled out my notebook and began profiles for everyone I heard about today, along with all the mental notes I made.

Under Sully, I put a note that listed him as a potential partner.

? - Elsewhere

Dirt moved through my fingers as they clawed at the ground. They dragged the loose substrate to a pile, close to the wall of the mountain.

I fought through the jabs of intense pain that came fro-

HOOT!

The sound sent me into a panic.

I dropped the dirt, grabbed the sacks and my burnt stick and crawled towards the wall, dragging my bent and broken and bleeding legs behind me. I swung and unfurled my cloak over me and my items, hoping that I would be seen as just another rock in the mountain wall.

The moonlight shone through the fabric, and the silheaute of the night bird was cast onto it, flapping its wings in a glide, coming from right and heading towards the left.

Hoot! Hoot! Hoot!

It disappeared from sight, it's flapping and hooting growing ever faint as the distance grew between us.

I let out a breath I had been holding.

A gust of wind- not nearly as strong as the one that knocked me off my climb- billowed the cloth all around me, it's flapping against the wind joining the rustle of trees dancing from below the crevice I set camp in.

I took a moment to enjoy the present…

Then I pulled the cloak off me, and began digging again, scraping dirt underneath my fingernails. I must've been at it for hours, that's what the moon told me at least. But this place wasn't like home. I couldn't use the stars to navigate; they were lying. Couldn't taste what the herbs here did; even the sickest ones tasted sweet. And the mountains refused to speak at all to me. I should learn other ways to tell the time here.

The holes were done; knee deep.

"Gah!" I grunted in pain, sticking my broken legs into them, knee deep.

I sat above the holes, and reached for my canteen. I popped the lid off, and poured water down them. Water from the first friend of this place…

I waited.

A lump started to build in my throat, when nothing happened. Please, I don't want to have to…

I waited. And I waited. And I waited.

When it was clear nothing was going to happen, I went for them. A pouch, tied to my beard in a knot, kept close to me and hidden.

I undid it, and the string that kept the pouch closed; out came the seeds. The pouch used to have nineteen. Three were lost the first time this place saw me, leaving only sixteen.

Please, I looked up, tears forming in my eyes, I don't want to. I promised I would protect them…

I closed my eyes, and they rolled down my cheeks. I have to.

I grabbed the tools from the pack; a stone mortar and pestle. Only one, I assured myself, only one.

I put one in the mortar, and the rest back in the pouch.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, hoping that I would be forgiven for what I was about to do next.

I took the pestle, and grinded the seed. I grinded it into a fine powder. Into something I could use, making me no different from my enemies; those I knew very well, and the ones I don't. This would be the last time I did this.

When I was finished, I looked into it. My chin quivered. My hand shook as it tilted the mortar, and the seed powder fell into the holes where my legs- My damn legs- were nestled with moist dirt.

I screamed when the ground itself clamped onto my legs, "GAAAH!"

It morphed around them, all the way up my thighs, constricting and squeezing. I writhed in pain, my breath coming in rapid cycles, my heart pounding through my chest.

Then the pain stopped, and an ocean blue glow poured out of them. A wave of calm washed over me, head to chest to knee to toe.

Something hit my back.

I looked behind me- Oh. It's just the ground. I had fallen back first on it.

I don't get up. I lay there, listening to the soft rustle down below, watching the very wrong stars up above, knowing that even though they are very wrong, they are still very beautiful.

There.

There they are. My friends. They flapped softly and silently, against the wind. Ascending up the mountain; those beautiful little moths. I counted them, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight.

They disappeared up above, along the mountain's jagged edges, and I closed my eyes, falling into a sleep...