Annastasia

by Vos Mos Amplio

Annie's Origins. Notice: There will be a small hiatus before I move into Act 4. However, the story is undergoing rewrites currently ranging from chapters 19-24 to add more detail to the scenery, cultures, mannerisms, characters, language, and possibly more references. Rewrites for chapters 1-18 are done. Thank you for reading, and for your patience.

22. Apex Fauna: Part 3

Annastasia

22.

Apex Fauna (Part 3)

Annastasia stared in shock at the woman that had been shot, blood pooling around her body as her fingers clutched weakly at the dust in her death throes. Something awful ached in her chest when she saw the woman, the very same amiable one she'd only just reunited with on the worksite, someone who had reminded her of her own mother. The way she was shot with her bosom almost bared made Annie feel like she had been watching her mother die similar to how she must've been executed by the firing squad, and the difference then was that she hadn't been there to witness it.

That would be her daughter, the still bawling girl that the mother was about to attempt to save but had been killed instead. She was so close that pieces of the shredded paper that the bullet was wrapped in blew right by her feet. She rushed to her mother's side, pleading for her mother to be all right, begging the Goddesses to heal her, and Annie could almost sit down and cry. Before the empathy overwhelmed her as she recalled both times she'd lost her mother, it turned into fury as Annastasia turned to Grace-Ann, who looked on at the scene stone-faced.

"What the he–" she couldn't even get out the swear, and her distress and frantic emotions going haywire prolonged her forgetfulness. "What the he– have you lost your dam… Are you INSANE?! I told you that she was innocent! Doctor… doctor! Is anyone here a doctor!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. An outcry of the need arose in a din yet none could be found.

Grace-Ann said blankly, "You broke his leg. He's not here, not even in the kingdom anymore."

Annie was so bitterly disappointed and upset that she could just grab the nearest shovel and break Grace-Ann's legs right then and there out of vindictiveness, but it'd achieve nothing. Instead, she tried to calm herself down to think through what could be the best possible option for the dying woman. There was magic, Alset had claimed in his argument, and that Chess had the best which could heal all kinds of ailments. Grace-Ann had once said there were a few doctors in town. She'd go get one. No, it'd take too long, the woman would die long before Annie could return with the medical help; it was that urgent. She ripped off a piece of the daughter's dress – it was cleaner than her own – and used it as a pad to put pressure on the wound. Maybe we should move her instead? No, it's too dangerous, and the bullet inside her could make things worse–

"Annie," the mind-reader said, "I shot her in the heart. She's not going to make it. Knowing magic, not even it could save her if it was right here. What's more, she's an enemy."

"Like I'm going to listen to you," Annie retorted, yelling for someone to help her make a stretcher. She was volunteering to do everything on her own, it seemed, as most of everyone there remained traumatized statues or perpetuated stillness for some reason of inaction or another. The moment she told the daughter to apply the pressure on her mother's wound by herself, Annie had gotten up and was moving about, carrying out herself what she had tried to order some of the others to do. She'd gotten as far as yanking down a nearby tarpaulin and two of its supporting posts before two of the labourers roused themselves to act and helped her create a stretcher to carry the woman on. "Even if you were right, even if she IS a criminal, why didn't you arrest her like you said?!"

The gun hung limply in the woman's hand before it fell out of her limp grasp. "I don't know. I just… panicked. I didn't know what she was thinking, I didn't know what she would do, could do. I didn't know if she would fight or run. I didn't know what she'd do, couldn't take a chance. I just wanted her to be dealt with." Even as she was speaking, Annie was pulling along the little girl who was crying over the body, trying her best to assure her that she was going to get her mother some medical help as the men began to load the woman into the improvised stretcher, and urged the girl to stay apace and keep the pressure on the bleeding wound in the woman's chest. Grace-Ann felt conflicted about what they were trying to do, too mentally exhausted to give them any orders to the shot woman's benefit or otherwise. It was too late anyway, and whatever control she may have had over the crowd was spent along with the bullet that was now in the woman's chest.

That was when she saw Annie with a rock in her hand.

"Annastasia!" the woman cried in indignation and worry. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm going to try healing her, or help her live long enough to get a doctor!" she bit out as she followed the men, appearing as if she was whispering to the rock. Before Grace-Ann could attempt to intervene, the company of men and the procession was halted by a woman who had just shown up, straightly holding out a large pole-axe in their way by the very end of the shaft like a dropped blockade, evidencing how strong she was. Even the bulky-looking labourers hesitated when they saw her, thoroughly intimidated by the woman who was so much smaller than them but could handle such an oversized weapon with such ease. She so unmistakably resembled the mind-reader that she could only be the Immigration officer's sister, the very same that she warned them strongly about.

I came as quick as I could. A thought came, informing Grace-Ann that her sister had come. Was it you who fired a gun, Grace? I picked up that you wanted to kill somebody.

She hadn't even been remotely aware that her intents had been so palpable. She was focused on stopping the radical, but permanently 'stopping' them was another thing altogether. She lapsed into the ease of killing too easily, but Amara was nonchalant, not caring strongly either way.

You little sneak! You had a gun this whole time? I knew that you were dead serious about this radical business, but this is going to take a lot of brow-beating to cover up. I'll get to that later. Anyway, the job's done, radical's dead. Now we can have ourselves a day off–

"Excuse me, Miss," Annie said hotly to the warfighter who still hadn't spoken a word but dared to block a dying woman from getting medical assistance. "Could you please get out of the way? We're trying to save someone's life."

Amara looked at the young girl before her with diminished interest, wondering how to deal with her. The warfighter wasn't quite mentally or emotionally equipped to properly deal with anyone who looked like a teenager or younger and decided to ignore her. However, she noticed that she had a rock in her hand, and she pointed at the Van De Sterren while giving Grace-Ann an inquisitive stare, making the mind-reader slap her forehead in exasperation at how quickly Annie was discovered by whom she believed was the worst possible person. Before the mind-reader could step in to try and salvage what she could from the rapidly worsening situation, Amara pointed to the girl's rock before gesturing her hand, conveying that Annie should give it to her.

"No! You mustn't touch it!" Grace-Ann screamed desperately as she ran to them. "Only she alone can hold it!" Annie looked wildly between the two Satoris before she backpedaled away from Amara in worry. Regardless, the girl stopped suddenly, and walked straight forward to the warfighter to hand over the Something – she was being controlled. Just before Amara could take it from her, Grace-Ann almost full-body tackled her sister, but she hardly moved – it was as if she was crashing into a wall. "Don't touch it! Just leave her alone! Leave her alone with it!"

What are you getting so excited about Grace? I just wanted to see the rock. What could be so special about it? Or dying over, like this damn radical? Hmm? Wait. She casually pushed Grace-Ann aside with one hand, just as Annie seemed to have finally become conscious and in control of her own actions again. Filled with trepidation and misgiving, she hurriedly put the rock back into her pocket and backed away from the sisters. For the moment, the warfighter didn't retain an interest in her, and instead slammed the pole-axe into the ground by the blade to plant it before checking the body of the woman on the stretcher. Isn't this woman dead? She held her palm over the woman's face and felt no breath. Afterward, she checked her pulse and found none. She was surely as dead as doornail.

Grace-Ann asked anxiously, "What's wrong?"

She's not dead, Amara replied. But should be. Got no breath, and no blood's pumping. And that face… I'm only just realizing it.

"What's wrong?!" Grace-Ann repeated more urgently, not understanding.

Who the hell is this? Amara asked in amazement and curiosity. This isn't the woman I found at the train station.

"That's not the radical?" Grace-Ann muttered in horror, realizing that she had murdered an innocent woman. "Oh, my Goddesses–"

Amara gave her a pained look. I don't what hurts worse, the fact that you took that the wrong way, or that you – for a second – believed, that you were just a murderer, and you've been thinking that way about me all day, I bet. Thinking that you were just like me. Is that what I am? Some basement threshold that you should never try to drop to? That you should always be able to look down on me and tell me right from wrong?

She'd hit the nail on the head, but her sister was horrified at the implications. "No, I didn't mean it–"

Yes, you did. Amara looked down again at the radical. This is the right person. The heart's the same, and that's a unique thing you could never find two of. But this is the WRONG face. It's like she's a whole new person. But even though I can't find a bit of life in the body, her mind's still working. She's alive. Listening. It's so bizarre. The heart's ANXIOUS. And…what the hell? She's not even doing anything I tell her to do. I can't control her. Is she just pretending? Amara scratched her head in confusion before she slapped the lifeless woman's face to no avail as she failed to stir. I want answers. I'm going to have to get rough. Before Grace-Ann could respond, the two men promptly dropped the woman hard to the ground, and everyone started shouting in concern and bedlam, and the daughter worried over the disgraced body of her mother, screaming at women and the laborers for their irreverence. I swear straight to Venus if this brat doesn't get out of the way–

The little girl stopped crying instantly and went to sit on the bench in the shade, staring jadedly at the proceedings. One of the laborers who'd been carrying the stretcher and had dropped the woman unceremoniously looked down at the woman who sprawled across the tarpaulin with her limbs flailed in limp angles. "Hey. You gave me and my sister a lot of trouble this morning. Do you have any idea how long and far I've been running from the southern border last night just to get to her this morning? I could have killed you as soon as I found you at the train station. All I had to do was stall until she got back, and then point you out. Just luck that saved you then, worked out that I had to kill a woman and her kid who had my own mother's finger for a Goddess-damned NECKLACE! My sister hates my guts, and I'm in a mood. Maybe I ought to kill you and be done with it, but I want to hear what you have to say for yourself first. Get up."

The other labourer looked down, visibly under the woman's control as well, perhaps even conscious of it, and his voice cracked like a broken mirror. "You're a real freak, aren't you? Your heart's going haywire. Can't decide what you should do? I'll tell you: I want you to change your face back to what it was before and get up right this instant, or I'm going to start putting pain into a corpse if you want to keep playing dead." The woman's menace was somewhat nullified by the man's broken tone, but the impending result of her forewarning was sure to pass, everyone could tell from the woman's profane behavior and flagrant attitude that she didn't make empty threats.

The body didn't move.

Without hesitation, Amara violently stomped the woman's shin, and it broke with an audible crack. There were screams of horror from the crowd, and Annastasia stared at the woman committing madness, trying to think of a way to get her to stop but too afraid to even approach her. Grace-Ann got to the girl just as her sister shattered the woman's other leg, and pulled Annie aside to keep her from watching the vehemence, shaking her shoulders to get her attention. She kept telling the girl to not get involved, to remember her warnings about what Amara would do if she learned about her, yet Annie kept watching the brutality, frozen in terror.

"Didn't feel like I just broke a bone – and I know how it feels when I snap a leg in half. So what? You can function without legs. I bet you could live without arms, too. After all, you got shot in the chest. You changed your face… Some kind of shapeshifting ability like some of those Dagonian mermen who morph legs into fins and vice-versa? Maybe you could already break your features and rearrange them. Or you heal quick." Amara pulled up her axe. "Maybe they'll grow back. Hey, isn't this a coincidence, Grace? We talked about growing back body parts this morning!" Lifting her large weapon with a voiceless grunt, she drop-hacked the woman's legs off at the thighs, and blood spurted out wildly. One of the refugees tried to grab at the woman's shoulders to get her to stop, and she squirmed him off; with her free hand, she solidly landed a punch at the young man's jaw that sent him flying several meters and skidding along the ground into a pile of cement bags, stunned. When he managed to crawl free, his mouth was spewing blood and broken teeth. "Walk it off! And when you're done, thank the Goddesses that I let you live – no one forced you to mess with me." She stared at him a moment longer and thought of something peculiar as she returned to the woman. The other laborer under control commented, "Look at all that blood coming out of his mouth! Giving your legs a run for its money!" The woman looked around expectantly, before silently chuckling.

No one thought it was funny in the least.

"Is that blood you're bleeding even real? It's not enough. Is your body dead? Are you playing dead? How long can you keep that up? Are you a monster?! I can hear you… You're hoping I'll stop. You're nervous that I'll end up killing you, but you're more afraid that you'll fail. Is that right? You're more worried about some little no-name girl out in the damned sticks than your own life? Fine!" She lifted the axe again and dropped it through the woman's neck, beheading her with a swift guillotine. There was silence now as everyone looked on at the frenzied woman who had completely butchered the woman's corpse, and she sighed in her mute way. The two laborers were seemingly relinquished from her control, and they hastened to get away from the scene. Yet, as she was coming down from her high, she piqued again. She glared at the dismembered corpse, then at Annie, who winced away. Yet, it was the girl who started to approach the feral as well as the body, no matter how much Grace-Ann attempted to restrain Annie from going any closer.

"No!" Grace-Ann cried in a panic, "Don't take her! Just leave her alone!"

"Calm down, Grace," Annie whispered to the feral before she peeled off the mind-reader's grip with capable hands. "I'm only borrowing her to get the monster's attention. I promise you'll get her back safe and sound without a scratch." Annastasia drew closer and pulled out the Something that was in her pocket before she spoke up. "I know you're still alive, monster. Reduced to a head. It's unbelievable, but I can still hear you, no use pretending. Is this what you want?" She held out the Rock, an item that must've surely been the creature's goal, despite its lying dormant. "You want it?"

The dismembered woman didn't stir.

"That's fine. It's all fine," Annie said before she grinned maniacally, and continued to hold the rock with an outstretched palm in a way that the item could be easily swiped, trying to bait the latent creature. "I'll keep going until you go quiet." Amara grabbed the head and pulled it farther away from the body and set it to stand on its neck in such a way that it could watch their own disfigured corpse. "A headless body, still alive. Amazing. It would be. But my job isn't a scientist. I'm not dissecting to find out how you work. I want you to tell us how you work. Okay. From my perspective. I'm this girl – Annie, I think my name is. I'm this pretty little innocent girl that the nice lady has been keeping secret from her sister, the soldier with an axe. I have a rock. I have a dam– Shi…" Annie paused, rubbing her jaw. "Is… What's wrong with her mouth?" she whispered to herself before speaking up loudly again. "Two things about me: I have a rock and sometimes my mouth doesn't work. You came all the way out here for what, monster? For me? To fix my mouth? Or… What is this?" Annie asked, gesturing to the rock. "A big paperweight? Some kind of birthday gift from my poor parents? Maybe is my pet rock? That's what you're here for, isn't it? To take away my pet rock?" Annie demanded, "Why? Give the axe-woman her answers before she runs out of patience, dumps you into the outhouse toilet and lets you stew in it."

If Annie was conscious of what was going on, she didn't indicate it, not even a fraction of the horror that the onlookers had. Rather, her expression mirrored the manic on Amara's face as she started lifting the pole-axe and brought it down multiple times, and each time it fell it chopped the woman into smaller and smaller pieces until it couldn't even be recognized as a body anymore. It couldn't be, and Amara realized it. "Where are your bones?" Annie asked. "Where are your organs? You do belong in the pit, 'cause you're just a mass of shi–… What was…" The girl checked herself. "That is peculiar. It keeps happening." Distracted, she tested her throat by tapping it. "Like I just stopped talking again oh dam–" the rock seemingly slipped out of her grasp to the ground, and the bloody mass that was once the woman shifted like a gelatinous one as it tried to reach for it. Annie smirked as it did so, and the woman grinned.

"And there it is!" Annie screamed at the top of her lungs, "Proof!" Amara dropped the axe down right where the viscous mass was going, blocking it off before it could get to the Van De Sterren who was nearly working herself into a tizzy of proximated emotions from the warfighter's control. "What the hel– Goddesses, what the he–... What's wrong with this kid's mouth?" Annie yelled at herself as she quickly grabbed up the Something and retreated to a safe distance beside the mind-reader. "Grace! Are you seeing this?!"

The mind-reader seemingly had a new reason to be horrified as the woman that she had supposedly killed and had been reduced to chopped bits now reforming into a new woman that no one readily recognized, but Amara seemed somewhat satisfied as she stepped away to observe the happenings; Grace-Ann presumed that this was the appearance that her sister had seen at the train station. It was an older brunette woman with greying hair, dressed in an old robe that seemed a few sizes too large on her, easily catching in the wind-like sails that demonstrated the thinness of the body underneath. Grace-Ann thought of the woman's two appearances and wondered if this was her true form – she could be some sort of shapeshifter if she could easily transform into someone that Annie believed that she knew. Following in her sister's lead, she felt that she should demand answers as well but for now would let the warfighter remain in control. Despite her ferocity and viciousness, she was getting undeniable results with dozens of witnesses of the crowd of refugees still brave enough to remain. Perhaps she could work this to her benefit; this could be an opportunity to vindicate herself for having broken multiple laws which included stealing, smuggling, and using a firearm.

Look at that. It's her, Grace. That's the radical I found. Some little old lady. She looked so harmless at that time, so you can imagine why I forgot about her when I found our mother's finger. I thought the worst thing she could be was a little senile or had some kind of trauma with her dead daughter, and I left her alone. Now we know better. On to business. Do you want to talk for me for a change, or do I have to keep using the girl?

"I'll talk," Grace-Ann said quietly, and patiently waited for the message so that she could relay it. "Who are you?" she asked the mysterious woman.

"I didn't say it like that!" Annie exclaimed suddenly, staring up into the mind-reader's face incredulously, still under fixed control. "You said you'd talk for me! At least say it like how I said it!"

Grace-Ann cringed. "We could do without the profanity."

"As if your mouth joined a church! I need your voice for a time like this and you can't even dam–" Annie paused. "Then again, I'm starting to think that this kid's mouth DID join a church. Like… Can't she swear?"

"She cannot swear," the Satori asserted firmly. Both Amara and Annie scratched their heads in confusion and shrugged in unison. Deciding not to involve anyone else and to continue using the girl that the strange invader was interested in, she sustained her control of Annie lest she lose presence and influence over the situation.

"Hello, radical," Annie said. "You took a lot of punishment. I'm not going to apologize. I'm security, and you got fair warning. I cut you up. It was your choice to lie there and take it. Now let's hear who and what you are."

The woman looked at Annie, then to the two primate ferals, then back at Annie, distinctly unsure of who she should be addressing. Finally, her attention rested on the one with the pole-axe, as Annie's voice reflected the warfighter's motives. "Did you hypnotize her? Are you possessing the girl?"

Annie smirked widely. "Haven't heard anyone call it that for years. No. To put it simple: what I want, I get. She talks what I want her to talk, so think of her as my parrot."

"Can't you speak instead?"

"For a while, I wondered if there were two people here who couldn't talk," Annie said hintingly, reminding the radical of their passive nature and their inaction. "What, are you worried about the girl? If I want someone to know they're under my control, they'll know. She knows. And to put it into words so that she knows why: next time, don't try to stop me from doing my job. Go when I say go, stop when I say stop. Most, if not all of this entire kingdom's security rests on my shoulders. I look after them, they're like sheep. Most of the people are pampered, stupid – have you seen what natural sheep are like?" the girl asked rhetorically, almost pontificating.

The people were quiet, not responding.

She continued, laughing as her descriptions worsened, "It's painful to watch. They can even fall over by themselves, and if you leave them alone long enough like that, they'll die. So stupid! But when these people have the nerve to tell the shepherd what to do? It's maddening. I don't need the sheep to tell the shepherd about how to look after the sheep. They just need to let me do what I have to do because I'm already looking out for their best interest. They might not like it, but it's for their own good that they shut up, follow the shepherd, and mind her crooked staff." Amara banged her pole-axe against the ground forcefully, driving her point home. "It'll protect you from the wolves outside the fence, but it'll knock whatever's left of your brains right out your ears if you keep on pissing off the shepherd and trying to protect the wolf. So, 'wolf'," Annie said deliberately, "Who are you, and what's your purpose with the sheep? Depending on your answer, you're going straight to jail, but all things considered, it could be your best possible alternative."

The woman hesitated for a bit, outwardly considering her response at least what her opening statement should be. Finally, she said, "I'm on a mission of peace."

"Well, go on, I haven't got all day. We know you're after the girl and her rock, so cut straight to that."

"The girl is secondary. I only wish to retrieve the Rock. It's dangerous."

"As dangerous as a woman that can shapeshift? Maybe into anyone?" Grace-Ann asked, clearly full of reservation. "Who's to say that you're even human? Feral? Dagonian? You could even be a Gigan." Both Annie and Amara turned to look at Grace-Ann as if to ask how the small woman could be a Gigan, but the mind-reader was adamant. "Don't give me that attitude, Amara! Annastasia would know, I bet. You turned this so-called missionary into a bloody mess, and she reformed her entire body, including the clothes. Couldn't actually be the fabric, but she impersonated it! Who's to say she couldn't do the same for the Gigan's teeth, or claws?"

"Good point," Annie replied. "Hey, radical. What the fra– right, the kid can't curse. What are you?"

"I'm actually human–"

Annie said suddenly, "That's a lie. Watch yourself, radical. I can still hear your heart. Don't lie to me, or I might be liable to put your neck on the cutting block again."

The woman hesitated again. She seemed to have a lot of internal struggle, and while Grace-Ann couldn't read the woman's mind, it was clear that she had a lot to hide. There was no doubt to her that Conon could be right about Annie being hounded by the Skullheart – what else could the woman be hiding? Momentarily thinking of the man, she tried to find him mentally, only to discover that he and the other engineers were still working on the machinery inside the plant.

A wonder in design that expanded on soundproofing theories after noisy constantly-operating components in a previous power plant in Chess all but drove out most of the nearby citizens, this massive building and its interiors were being built in a way to make it almost noiseless inside and out. Even so, Grace-Ann couldn't believe the absurdity of the situation that Conon did hear the earlier gunshot and had gotten the report that she had shot a woman, but had kept all the engineers working, despite their complaints that he was unethical and driving them to toil like slaves. She would talk to him about it, outwardly. Privately, they would need to discuss the man's ambitions, his fears of mortality and Annie's future. That would be another time, but shouldn't he be here now?

She looked at Annie, speaking words that weren't hers, emoting feelings that weren't hers. Conon would have a fit. No, she'd stay here instead, let him remain ignorant and find out later. There was nothing he could do in this situation, and there was no need for him to see his daughter like this, a marionette on her sister's strings. Between her sister and the shapeshifting woman of dangerous motives, Grace-Ann couldn't tell which was scarier.

"I'm not human," the woman said carefully, "and I'm as old as the dirt beneath your feet. I am on a mission to secure the Rock that is in girl's possession; it is much too dangerous for her keeping."

Amara stared at the woman, then at Annie, observing the girl judiciously but not finding anything irregular about her. "You're talking the truth. You mean this rock?" She retrieved it from her pocket, a perfectly spherical stone about the size of a lemon. "This is too dangerous for a little girl to use? What's so bad about it?"

"As unassuming as both she and that Rock appears, it's the most dangerous thing in the world and she could end it just as easily now as she likely will later. I'm only here to put the Rock out of the reach of mortals such as yourself."

"What if I keep it?" Annie said. "You're going to fight me for it?"

The woman thought a moment. "I didn't come to fight, but I will if I must. I came on a mission of peace, as I've so said before, and with no ill-will to you or any of your countrymen. No harm was to come to anyone." Amara still gleaned this as the truth, yet interpreted it a bit as a challenge. Grace-Ann saw differently.

"Why'd you approach Annie as that woman? She thought she knew you!" she accused.

"I…" the woman paused, uncertain of how to answer as she looked to the three in turn. "I wanted to utilize the character of a person she trusted. When I arrived, I took notice of how well Annie got on with her. I would use her as a disguise to get her comfortable, then inform her who I was and what I came here for, steal it if I had to."

"Sounds sneaky."

"The girl's not known for being easily trusting, or forgiving, but the methods can be easily forgiven by the egregiousness of the state of affairs –"

What the hell does that word mean?

"It means 'terrible'," Grace-Ann whispered.

"Now please," the Emissary continued, neverminding the woman's whisper to her sister. "Let me have the Rock–"

"You're not in control, I still have more questions," Amara said through Annie, shutting the radical down. "If you disguised yourself as this new woman, then where is the original?" She pointed at the daughter still sitting on the bench quietly as if she was catatonic. "You even convinced that girl you were her mother? Where's the woman?" she demanded.

The woman sighed. "She's unharmed, but unconscious. By the river. She would have come to, eventually, and certainly after I've gotten what I came here for." She sounded eager to absolve herself, Grace-Ann thought, using the truth to convince everyone that she was inherently good. Even Amara was becoming convinced, and that could only sour things badly – Grace-Ann had a momentary vivid fear of Annie, still under her sister's control, approaching the radical to turn over the Something and had to assure herself out loud that it wouldn't happen.

"If you're some kind of guardian of the people, maybe some old remnant of another age with tons of experience and this rock is as dangerous as you say, then a little girl like this really shouldn't have it," Annie stated. "She could be careless. Probably is. I came here, and I noticed that she already had it in her hands, like she was talking to it or something –" Grace-Ann shuddered terribly, but Amara took no notice. "But not knowing the method bothers me. Maybe she knows how to use it, whatever it does. If it can destroy the world, then it's a weapon. If it IS a weapon, then what in the Goddesses' name was she doing with it when you were on the stretcher? Trying to finish you off?"

Grace-Ann wanted to whisper to her sister, to somehow inform her that Annie was going to attempt some way of healing the strange woman before she turned out to be an imposter, but the less Amara knew the better and would continue to try salvaging whatever she could out of the situation that continued to steadily go south.

"And," Annie continued, "You say that she shouldn't have it, but Grace–" Amara turned on her sister, "you kept telling me that only the girl should hold it, and I can't even touch it. Like I could die if I touched it."

"That's true."

Amara stared at her, becoming befuddled. "Well, isn't this grand? You're both telling the truth."

"Because we both believe we're telling the truth," Grace-Ann said as if it was obvious. "And I mean it," she said further in a whisper, "if you hold it, you'll pass out… Are you going to leave us alone with an un-killable freak, especially when you're vulnerable? And what's more, if you so much as touch the girl's Rock, you'll lose months, probably years of your life."

Amara's silent mouth moved in an inaudible curse. What should I do? This woman could be some kind of guardian or protector. Trying to keep trouble from happening. But my sister insists that the damn girl alone should keep it. Should the government take it? To study it? What if it hurts them? I'll get into trouble if I brought it back and it kills them… She had momentarily forgotten that Grace-Ann could hear her thoughts, and she gave her troubled sister a comforting squeeze on her shoulder.

She said lowly so that only Amara could hear, "Make no mistake, I'm certain that's an enemy, and she must not be given the Rock. That girl's father is a desperate old man, the type you could easily dismiss if he started raving. He can't read minds or hear people's hearts like us. But he's a believer in circumstantial evidence. He expected someone to show up."

What's your point?

Far away in front of them, the radical seemed to grow impatient, waiting for their response.

"It's synchronicity. I wish I could prove to you what our inheritance does. This might be my chance–"

Maybe I should give her, she thought."This is so important. And the stakes are insane! You've been holding back something like this all day. From the first time I mentioned it, you realized what was happening. You didn't tell me, didn't even try. I thought we were just looking for a crazy religious zealot, and now I'm finding out that there's a little girl out here holding a rock that could actually end the world. How could you keep something like this from me?

She couldn't answer her sister with the complete truth, or she'd just as much likely decapitate her instantly along with Annie in vengeance for her family, no telling what she could do in her fury. "The less that anyone knows about Annastasia, the better. She was hiding here." She thought back to the interview when Conon held her attention in his mind, explaining all of the circumstances. "Her father knew she would be targeted, and he begged me to let them stay here in Chess. And I believed him."

"Targeted by who?" Grace-Ann didn't reply out loud, but pointed at the radical as if the answer was obvious.

The mind-reader demanded, "What do I call you?"

"Emissary is fine."

"Well enough, Emissary." The mind-reader at once decided that it wasn't a name, but more of a title or something of a job description. "You've been telling the truth. My sister's thinking she should give you the Rock. I have my own questions. Do you remember what I was telling you about synchronicity? That the world sometimes organizes little coincidences for people to grow?"

The Emissary clasped her hands together reverently. "The world doesn't allow things to happen by mere chance. I believe you're thinking of fate?"

"Okay. " Grace-Ann smiled. "You said that you'd fight us if you didn't get your way. It means you're not going to leave empty-handed. Here's your ultimatum: do you value the Rock more than what you have to hide?"

The strange woman gave her a markedly dangerous look. "Haven't I already informed you enough of the direness of the state of affairs?"

"Yes, you have. You've been very forward. You believe in fate?" Grace-Ann chuckled. "Here's a few questions; give us proper answers, and you can have the Rock and go. I'll even organize some proper transportation for you back to where you came from."

"By all means, you're entitled to make an informed decision. Let's hear it."

"Here's one. Are you working for, or with the Skullheart?"

"No." At the abrupt response, Grace-Ann turned to Amara, who nodded.

"She's telling the truth."

"Really?" This took Grace-Ann by surprise, but to her credit, she didn't even let a trace of it show. "That's encouraging. Next question: did you come for Annie, or the Rock?"

"I came for the Rock."

"Good. Final question." The strange woman smiled, apparently believing that she would be given the Something, but Grace-Ann was nothing if not certain she had the radical cornered. "Did you already know that Annie had the Rock?"

The radical hesitated. "No."

Grace-Ann laughed. "Now isn't that a coincidence? You didn't believe in them? You came all the way here, focused on getting to her and the rock, and they were both mutually inclusive. There was no way you could find one without the other, and yet you weren't sure if she already had it? What made you believe that she had it?" The woman was silent. "Okay, here's your way out. It was fate, right? You didn't know if she had it, but you believed that she would have the Rock."

This was a troubling state of affairs, but the radical nodded, apparently trapped and taking the out that the woman was offering her. "It was fate. I knew that she would come to have it at some point."

"Yes, yes," Grace-Ann said. "And if she was fated to have it – mind you, the only one in the world who can actually hold it! – why isn't she meant to have it? Isn't that fate is giving her blatant ownership? Isn't she fated to have it and keep it?"

The woman grew upset. "Fate doesn't work that way. She would have it, for a time. But it shouldn't stay in her possession."

"Fate this, fate that. You're about to end up being fated to die within the hour. Want to know about synchronicity?"

You keep saying that, what the hell is it?! Amara blurted in her mind.

"It's a bit like fate," the mind-reader, "More a bunch of random coincidences that never seem to make sense until you realize that it's gone. But us primate ferals were born with more of it than other races, and we had the talent to see those little coincidences for what they are. Radical, you operated on a supposition that Annie would find the rock soon, so you came all the way here to wait beside her until she found the rock. Coincidentally, an old man was certain that Annie found the Rock because she was fated to. That's why the Skullheart made her that way, as an investment. Frozen at an awkward age. Won't instantly die holding the Rock. Is that still Fate?"

"It is fate."

"Then, coincidentally… why is the strongest woman in Chess here? Are you stupid enough to believe that the strongest woman in Chess, probably the strongest on the entire continent came all the way here just to give you the Rock?"

"She will."

"She will?" Grace-Ann echoed as if the radical was an idiot. "All right Emissary. Think you won? You answered everything correctly as far as anyone's concerned, but I still believe that you're working with the Skullheart or in league with whatever's in control of it, working with its intentions to get the Rock. You said you don't work with the Skullheart, or with it. Are you associated with the Skullheart in any way?" The woman didn't answer. "Oh, yes, you keep quiet. Don't even breathe a word." Already, she can tell that her sister was interpreting the woman's feelings, stirred up by an unwillingness to answer, which could only mean one thing. "And about the Rock? I'm not even going to ask what you're going to do with it. But you continue keeping quiet, don't tell us, just think about it. Are you thinking about it? Good. Think about what you're going to do with the Something. That's right! I know what the Rock is. Do you feel it? Anxious? Afraid of what we already know, and that we've figured you out?"

There was a pause as Amara scrutinized the radical with wide eyes, and Grace-Ann nodded. "Good," she whispered to her sister, "She's one-track-minded, so you can all but read her mind for her intentions. She can only answer one way or the other so now you know what she's up to."

What the hell is – She really is working with the Skullheart! And she won't even try to deny it! Oh, my goddesses, she WANTS us all to die. She looked down at Annie. Using the rock that the girl has! What is that rock? What is it? Is it actually a weapon? She feels that it's a weapon! She stared at Annie and the rock she was forcing her to hold. She had her bring it closer so that she could observe it better but dared not touch it for fear of Grace-Ann's warning. It's so ordinary looking. What the frack is that rock?!

Grace-Ann shook her head as she turned back to the radical. "Didn't you say that you were on a mission of peace? You were just playing it safe. But you played it too safe. You should've met me first, at least – at the best, you'd have ended up as a refugee – but you've got to deal with Amara instead. But we can't just kill you for no reason, can we? After all, that would be murder." Grace-Ann said it sarcastically but eventually looked down, suddenly feeling sorrow for what had transpired throughout the day. "These little coincidences? I see them. I really see them now. Oh, Goddesses, we're all nothing but animals, aren't we? Did you learn anything, Amara? Did I learn anything?" She looked at her sister, who was still apparently horrified at the radical's intents that had been stirred up. "I'm sorry."

Sorry for what?

"This morning, you asked if I would prefer if a Gigan knocked on my door next time instead of you. There was a time when that could happen when we were more forgiving of refugees and the Gigans when they took advantage of the country's kindness. You're a soldier, fighting to protect the country, a country that isn't yours.

But it's now mine. I don't have any other, it's gone.

"I've hated all that's happened to you, and I hated all that you were doing. I shot a woman in front of her child, no matter who it truly was, and that broke me; I felt as if I was just like you, and I'm sorry. You're not a bloodthirsty maniac, but you have other feelings too, and I was inconsiderate of how you've been feeling all day. The coincidences… Our mother's finger in that necklace traveled over nearly two hundred miles across two kingdoms just to look you in the face – you killed that poor mother and son, and I'm sure you regret doing so in your moment of anger. They didn't have to be there, nor did the finger. You didn't have to search them, or even find out. If I had told you from the beginning, they wouldn't have been killed, and I'm to blame. That's my lesson I should've learned. For you, synchronicity worked out that it was just a distraction. That only enabled this monster –" she pointed at the radical, "–to get this far."

But what are you sorry for?

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about Annie. I'm full of everyone's secrets, and I hate allowing them to slip when they're not mine to share. I'm not like her, sometimes I don't know how and when to play it close to the chest. I could've prevented things from reaching this point. You had to find out because you will have to fight that creature for her sake. You're the only one who can." Annie quivered as she ostensibly regained control of her body, and Grace-Ann stilled her by resting her hands on her shoulders. "For now and in the near future, no matter how skilled, no matter how old she gets, Annie still needs people to look after her."

Both Amara and Annie shared a long look, one with frightened and mistrustful eyes and the other with plain and nonchalant ones.

She took over my body. I couldn't even blink, couldn't even breathe without her allowing it.

She doesn't look like much. I can't even talk to her without using her mouth.

Hearing their thoughts, the mind-reader nodded. "You two will work it out," Grace-Ann promised. She turned back to the outlandish woman and glared at her. "I've kept you waiting long enough, wretch. Do you want to know the question that's going to get you killed? Where's your passport?" At this, it was as if the buildup was lost, but Amara started laughing silently, entering a stance with her axe. With the vibe in the air changing, the radical looked apprehensive, not knowing why they had become threatening.

"Excuse me? I don't understand. Weren't you going to give me the rock? You must. It's for everyone's good. Aren't you satisfied with what I already told you–"

"Oh? You're stupid?" Grace-Ann declared. "Let's go slower. It's illegal to enter Chess without being interviewed by an Immigration officer, assigned your post, and given a passport and identification. Do you know what happens to illegal migrants? The charter says that you have to die. Severe, isn't it? It's just one of the few that suppresses all stupid attempts of infiltration, meaning you," she said before gesturing at Amara with her head, "and keeps our shepherd at her most lethal. It's just the law, and anything that she does to carry it out is, for a lack of a better word… lawful. We take our security so seriously that anyone, at any time, can be drafted by a government official to help protect the Chess Kingdom's borders, assets and interests from invaders. Under my authority as Immigration Officer, I am prioritizing the Rock and Annastasia Van De Sterren as my assets and the Chess Kingdom's interests."

Both Satoris knew that this branch of the law was made to allow government officials to have full legal use of Amara's talent if the need arose, and it spoke volumes of how much Chess relied on her to fight their battles. The warfighter didn't need the law to function and would abhor it if anyone else cited it to her but now Amara willingly let Grace quote the stakes. Despite it being blatant exploitation of her against the threat to Annie, Amara was happily aware of her sister's confidence that was practically rolling off of her in waves, a welcome change from the trepidation she'd had since the day began. "Falsehearted cretin, if you still haven't caught up," Grace-Ann yelled, "by law, either show us your passport or issued identification or get the hell out of Chess this instant!"

Yes! Amara cheered, ready for a fight. You tell her, Grace! Tell her that I'm going to stomp her head in!

"Insolent children. You've no idea what kind of ill-fortune you're penning for yourselves by not complying with what I ask."

"On the pain of death, show us your identification or be outside of the country's borders in the next ten seconds. There'll be no further warning." Every one of the three-dozen strong crowd was silent, almost counting down the seconds of the impossible demand that was set, and Grace-Ann hissed to Annie to leave before she got caught up. Noticing the girl about to depart, the radical started to make her approach, and that was all the excuse that Amara needed to act; in a second, Amara had closed the ten-meter distance, swinging the hefty pole-axe and bifurcating the radical at the waist. Not forgetting their formless nature, she didn't stop and spun in a tight circle to keep the momentum going and cut the head clean off the torso, sending it rolling along the ground before she stomped it to a pulpy mess.

Annie was no stranger to violence but Amara's vicious brand along with her abilities was a terror that she'd come to loathe and fear, and Grace-Ann caught her panicked train of thought as she froze up. Oh, Goddesses, I'm next, I'm next! She'll read my mind and kill me and daddy! She was already getting traumatized if she wasn't already, and Grace-Ann couldn't leave her alone like this. Pulling her by the arm to get the girl to safety way as the radical changed into some new figure of tentacles and formless horror to start fighting, all the while the crowd was screaming and splintering to get away from the brawl.

"Hush, Annastasia, hush," Grace-Ann said, trying to calm her down, "she can't read your mind, she can only hear and influence your intentions. If you act like you have something to hide, that's when you'll serve to make her suspicious." She didn't calm down, but the mind-reader was sure that she understood. "From what I know, you're a good liar – a good actor – so I know you can keep it secret. Please understand that I never meant for her to find out about you, but when she did, I had to make sure that you were cautioned about what you shouldn't say around her. Besides that, you really needn't be afraid of her – with me around, she'd do anything to protect you." She started to calm down, and Grace-Ann gave the girl what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "For now, just let my sister oust that monster out of Chess. She doesn't usually keep interested in anything besides fighting for very long. Even if she does get inquisitive, we'll tell her only what she needs to know; that'll keep her satisfied and you'll never even have to see her again. Together, we'll both see to it that your secrets stay just that – secret."

Annie still looked worried. Satori couldn't blame her. Just seeing Amara in action would lead anyone to believe that she was the villain when fighting the emissary, but Annie had other thoughts: the woman was so capable, scarily so. Her raw strength was unbelievable, and her speed – even when encumbered with her large weapon – was so swift that she could close a dozen yards in almost a blink of an eye. She was merciless, vicious, never wasting an act, and every time she swung her blade it was meant to kill instantly. It was frightful to imagine her as an opponent, and Annie kept thinking that at any moment, she'd beat the radical and come behead her with her standing still and powerless to stop it. What if she comes after me? I need a sword, or… no. No! Could I beat her with any sword, my sword? I need a gun to beat her. Like Gregory's gun! I need a repeater! Wait, it has to be one I can handle, like the Sterrenlicht! Her hand reached into her pocket and grabbed Something. Could I make it–

"That's the kind of thinking that will get you killed," Grace-Ann insisted as she tried to usher the girl along through the doorway of the power plant but she wouldn't budge through the doorway, standing on its top steps to watch the scrum between the shapeshifting monster and Amara. "You just get to your father and hide."

Grace, got a bit of a predicament here. This freak won't stay down. Might need something more to kill her. I could keep chopping her up for the next couple of hours, sure, but it doesn't seem to be working anymore. They were almost to the wide power plant entrance where Annie could shelter in the building with her father along with most of the other workers who hadn't already run off from the worksite, but Grace-Ann stopped, thinking of how she could assist her sister. She wasn't a fighter in any of the ways that could be readily helpful, but she had other useful things she could consider.

I need a coincidence. What could possibly happen? My sister is here, fighting for Annie, but it's not enough. It means that we need something else to intervene, or Amara could actually lose, I'm certain of it. Annie's here, but she can't be allowed to fight that creature. It's like nothing she's ever seen before. Nevermind how old she is, she's still just a child–

"Grace-Ann, what are we doing?" The girl's decision-making had halted, her mind was numbed from fear and frustration, unable to make any clear choices for herself. She wanted to hide somehow, or act, but couldn't muster anything beyond standing still. Just hiding in the power plant didn't feel enough, as Amara had found her target easily after tracking them for miles, and the Emissary had pursued her within a week of her finding the Something. Yet getting involved in the fight in any way was insanity and a sure way to perish, what with the way the monster kept shapeshifting new terrifying forms and horrors of faces and creatures to fight the woman who was being driven to a defensive.

"Annastasia, you need to go inside. Make no mistake, you're not hiding from my sister, but you're hiding from the creature, remember that. Then again, I'm starting to think that this is still wrong, that the scales need to be tipped more." Grace-Ann looked thoughtful as she pointed at the bulge that was the Rock inside the girl's pocket. "You could be holding the key to victory. If my sister was meant to kill the creature, I'm sure that it would be already dead by now. One of us needs to get involved. I'm sure that it's not even a question of if. Just how. And who. I think it's you, and the Something. You will have to intervene."

"Have you gone insane?" Annie blurted. "You want me to go out and fight those monsters?" At her exclamation, Grace-Ann gave the girl a frigid glare reminiscent of the one filled with hatred she'd given the girl a bare week prior. It made Annie clamp up promptly, and absently, the mind-reader realized that she looked too much like her sister – she was scaring the girl when she could have just as easily been her sister, poised to take her life.

Right, she could have been.

"Monsters," she said, repeating what the girl had said, "yes, they both are. I'm not sure as to the origin of the one who came here for you, but Amara wasn't born that way. She was born a victim. If you say that she's a monster, then she was made, nurtured by disaster and misfortune, one right after another. I don't love her enough as I should. I don't pity her enough as I should. In the same way, I don't hate you enough as I should. She could've been me. You see how much we resemble, yet she's so much different even on the first glace. She's lost more than half her tail, her sense of taste. She's been tortured. She lost her voice when a soldier tried to kill her by cutting her throat. Her ring finger was taken by a Fähnrich – a costly disfigurement, she'll never marry. She's covered in scars. We did lose our parents, but she's the one who saw it happen, and she'll carry that to her grave. I, on the other hand, haven't even gotten so much as a lasting mark from the war. I could've hated you like poison if only I had suffered as much as she did."

Annie was silent. Finally, some of her distress waned enough to permit her to calm down and watch the fight ever so slowly go out of control, yet Amara never permitted an inch of the creature's design to get closer to both the Van De Sterren and her sister. Grace-Ann came closer to stand on the middle steps, purposefully staying at a level where she could remain at eye level with the girl, and continued to entreat for her help, hoping that the girl's better nature would come through.

"Some people think it's luck. Can't be. How could she have gone through so much and still be alive? Is she just here to suffer?"

"What's your point?"

Grace-Ann wavered. "I'm not sure. Maybe I wanted you to feel sorry for her. That she's not some nameless victim. Won't you at least try to help her? She's risking her life for you."

"She's tragic," Annie agreed but she was upset, the misfortune of the outcomes catching up to her, "but I'm afraid that you're not very convincing, not after how she just controlled me! Me? Feel sorry for her? She's not the only one who's suffered. How do you think I feel, the one thing in my life that makes me feel happy, after all this time I thought that I finally found my purpose, something I can live for – but it's all been some sick plan that the Skullheart had for me?" Grace-Ann nearly backpedaled to get away from the lashing that was sure to come, but Annie didn't take the cue, didn't care. "I was only fourteen. I didn't have a thing to live for, but no matter how much I was miserable, I was happier back then. Because of my hemophilia, I could've died at any time just playing with my friends but I was better off then… You hear me?! I was better off then!"

The mind-reader didn't try to interject the girl's dismal tirade.

"And when I finally got hurt, when I finally got to my deathbed, I ended up being able to live forever. Isn't that perfect? A miracle. Isn't that exactly what I wanted? No. It's unfair. I'm stuck like this! All this time, I floated around not knowing what to do, and when I found the ONE thing that I thought I understood, the one thing that I felt could understand me? The Something was never a part of anything else, just like me. I found it by myself, but that was all the Skullheart's doing? It froze me at this age forever just so I find the Rock, and now it's come to take it away?"

The girl was tearing up, and it wasn't just for one reason, but Grace-Ann didn't have the time or maternal instincts to detangle the myriad that was making the girl miserable. "I'm sorry. You can stay here. Maybe it's really me who should get involved. I'll have you go inside in a minute. But I need a favor first. I still have to help my sister. Could you make some lead balls and gunpowder–"

"Here, just make it yourself! I wish I'd never found it!" Annie had pulled the Something out of her pocket, pushing it towards the primate feral who backed away quickly to avoid touching it, nearly losing her balance and going tumbling down the steps. "Please! Just take it! Take it!" she screamed before she started to sob. "Take it! Goddesses, if only I had just died on the bed." Barely taking the time to imagine what she wanted, in her distress, she shouted at the rock to make the bullets and gun powder, and it flowed out of the rock in a torrent that gathered into a growing heap on the concrete steps.

Ignoring Grace-Ann's obliged approval, she made as if to throw the Rock away as hard as she could, but didn't. It felt like throwing away a piece of herself, an eternal piece that had lived for an eternity under the stars. Only this time, Annie realized, they must've had some purpose. They shone someplace far away. They were easily visible. Some of them at least helped in navigation. The Rock – both unnoticed and unwanted – had spent its entire existence for nought as a witness to creation being born and falling apart, something she'd also spend her life doing, and that broke her. She wasn't better than the stars, not even like them. She was worse. No matter the perception, she'd looked down on the stars for their apparent lack of use, but they had been in the right, being high above and looking down on her instead.

North Star? Her parents thought of her as a North Star? And when had she ever done anything worthy of admiration or just cause? When had she ever lived her life with purpose? That purpose was finally discovered and she had arrived: the culmination of her life and all her efforts, a piece of infinity that was hers to find, a Rock that she thought helped complete her and ward off her feelings of futility and worthlessness, but it was never for her to keep. After only a week of finding solace in the Rock, she was to lose it and live out a cursed and barren immortality; losing the Something was far worse than having never found it in the first place. More so, finally discovering her purpose in life wasn't the joy she thought it would be – to only be a patsy to find the Rock was downright cruel – fate kept finding new ways to hurt her, and she was tired of it.

"Annie, please go inside."

She nodded gloomily, whispering to the Rock as she left. Grace-Ann couldn't hear her, but she knew what the girl was doing. She was begging it to kill her and destroy itself, and for all of its infinite power and material, the rock couldn't wrangle the task the way that the girl wanted, and remained dormant.

It's just a small thing. I'm not asking for a lot. Please, can't you do it?

Grace-Ann had to wrench herself away from the girl's depressing thoughts – she'd caution her father later and probably place her under suicide watch. For now, Annastasia had to be kept safe. She turned and looked around the battle theatre, searching for the gun that she dropped. It was in the way of danger, but she didn't worry about getting hurt – synchronicity would take care of her. She strode forward into the madness amongst the two monsters battling it out around her, but they never even came an inch of harming her, be it purposefully or accidentally. What can I do against it? After picking up the gun and making her way back to the steps whilst grabbing a dropped fork and a thin pad of sheet paper (which was probably used to plan worker schedules) as it blew past her, she sat down next to the mixed pile of gunpowder and bullets.

"Funnily enough, I have to wonder if I can use a flintlock to take down that thing?" Probing the mixture for an appropriately-sized bullet, she backed it with a piece of the paper and loaded it in along with the gunpowder, jamming it down with the fork. The gunpowder felt rich, Grace-Ann thought as she also dropped some into the pan, and pulled back the flint. Hoping that the powder wasn't so pure that it could blow up the gun in her hands, she stood up and pointed at the monster's face, and fired. The lead ball tore through the viscous monster's face, distracting it long enough for Amara to swing her axe down and cleaving it apart like a log of firewood, and the warfighter was pleased with the opening that was created.

You hardly did anything! You only made her angry! Don't worry, I'm still sure I can kill her – it'll just take a while. Remember when I was chopping her to pieces? Grace-Ann didn't attempt to answer the woman locked in battle as she dodged the creature's counterattack and replied with another of her own. She was afraid that I could kill her. It must mean that she can die. More of a question of how long I need to cut her up. Amara sounded doubtful.

"Really," Grace-Ann said thoughtfully as she reloaded the flintlock a second time before firing again at random through the chest of the massive snakelike creature that the woman had morphed into. It made the monster flinch noticeably and capitalizing on it, Amara swung her axe into the creature's wound, and it screeched like a banshee. "Seems that the bullet hit something important." That was made clear as the creature turned on her, spawning off from the main body a four feet tall wolf with three heads that snarled before it charged towards her. "It must've been really important because you're paying me a lot more attention." She patiently started to reload her flintlock, unwincing from the monster as her sister rushed to stand before her in a burst of speed.

She'd dropped her pole-axe along the way to get to her first, and she intercepted the wolf by grabbing two of its heads and pulling them apart, almost rending the wolf all the way down its back in three pieces before she threw them aside, making sure it was dead.

If only you were faster with that flintlock. It's going to be trouble if this keeps up and you're the only one who's hurting it.

"Would've preferred using a Repeater like old times, yes." Finally finished loading the gun, she let her hand wobble, her aim was wandering over the target of the monster's approaching main body. Finally, it steadied on a new spot.

Are you letting your luck decide the targets again? Haven't seen that in years.

"It's not luck, it's synchro – oh, sure, it's my good luck," Grace-Ann said, clearly giving up. "You'll never understand. The weak spot's changed." She fired the gun, and the bullet hit some vital area in the monster's mass, making it recoil badly. "Get your axe ready, and don't let that thing reach Annastasia!"

=X=X=

---

The girl wandered around inside the power plant reticently, not knowing what to do, or even how to feel. Everything was going wrong, blurry like a spoiled water-color painting as the colours bled into one another. The Something was in her hand, drawing down and weighing on her as heavily as a thousand galaxies, and her sluggish pace was nothing but a heartbroken limp. It was her father who found her close to the power plant's entrance, just beyond the sound-tempering auxiliary rooms, slumped on the ground against an unfinished wall and crying bitterly.

He didn't know what had happened but could only freely conjecture based on the wild stories he'd heard from a few refugees who'd come running in to hide, saying that some monster outside was targeting his daughter and some stone she had. It didn't explain her grief, but he could easily surmise.

"So the SkullHeart finally came, did it?" he asked softly. "Is it out there? We shouldn't stay here." He tried to pull her up to get her to follow him, but either he was frailer than he realized or she was too strong, and she didn't budge. He acquiesced to sit beside her on the dirty floor, joints creaking, never minding his soiled clothes. She'd move on her own desire, thought the man, though he'd try to convince her to do so sooner rather than later. "We have to leave, Annastasia. It's come after us, and it's too dangerous to stay."

"No," she mumbled. "Some… Creature, or something. I don't know what it is, but it's a shapeshifting monster. It's working for the Skullheart, Grace-Ann said. She and her sister are fighting it off." Her mind slowly processed further what the woman had said, and something clicked. "You knew about this."

It wasn't a question, barely an accusation. It was a statement of acceptance, but it was the most worrisome thing he'd ever heard from his daughter; even anger would've been better to endure. "It was only supposition. Up until when you found the meteorite, I only thought that the Skullheart wanted you."

"Me?" she asked in disbelief. "How'd you think so?"

"It was when you fought and beat Rachel. I already thought that you would live forever. Even though she destroyed the SkullHeart, it kept coming back to me that the Heart wanted you to live longer so you could try again. Maybe fail again, who knows? You'd keep fighting, keep learning. Eventually, you'd get your wish. A perfect fighter and slayer of Skullgirls, with decades of experience. With so much knowledge of fighting and beating Skullgirls–"

"–No one would be able to beat me," she finished. It was decent guesswork, and it finally made sense why he insisted that she should stay away from the SkullHeart. "I can't become a Skullgirl if I don't make a wish."

"Exactly. I also worried that you could become a minion if you should ever die–"

"Everyone's afraid of that, whether they admit it or not. That's not really a fear. More of a norm, like knowing you should be careful around fire, or with knives."

"And if you did die and became one of the dead ones?" He asked. "What if you had died fighting Rachel? And then Gregory found you?" The girl paled. Immediately, she recalled the times she had ambushed him for fun years before, back when she was training to fight Skullgirls. He did take it easy on her, despite all his strength, she was far too nimble for him. She demonstrated this point repeatedly when she scored what should have been lethal blows, and she hadn't even been serious. "You realize? Just add maybe thirty years of experience, and that's just being extremely generous. Realistically, what if that minion's had sixty years' worth of fighting experience? Or a hundred? Could anyone beat that minion, much less a Skullgirl?"

"It won't get that far," she murmured before picking up the Something and showing it to him. "It turns out that all they want is this. Can you imagine? That thing twisted my mummy's love and her wish and made me stuck like this just so I could find the Rock, and now it's sent someone to fetch it, take it from me by force. It's not fair. I've never done anything to deserve this. None of us have. I was already living on lesser time than anybody else, what with how terrible my blood was, but still, I never asked for a life without problems – I accepted it. Why did this have to happen to me?! Is it too much to ask to be left alone? Is it too much to want to die and be undisturbed in my grave?"

"It's a lot–"

"I'm trapped, daddy." She leaned against him, and he drew her in for a hug. Outside, the sounds of the fighting were getting louder and more serious, with gunfire going off once every minute and the thunder of blows landing caused slight tremors; dust fell lightly from the ceiling and powdered the Van De Sterrens. "And who's to say that you're not still right? What if the Skullheart still wants me after it gets the Something? It told me that there's 'always next time'. It wanted me to attempt to make a wish in the future. If only there was some way I could just die and be left alone, with the Rock properly destroyed. If I could just spite the cursed thing! I would go with a smile on my face."

Her talk of suicide was discomfiting, but not unexpected. It was something they talked about from time to time up until she found the Rock a week before.

"You sound more angry than sad."

"I hate it! If only that Heart didn't exist! The world would be better off without it." Outside, Grace-Ann was yelling her head off about something, and the front of the power plant broke down as an eight-feet tall bull-like anthropomorphic monstrosity with a crocodile-like mouth and serrated teeth charged in, but Annie didn't flinch, not nearly as much as her father who cowered in terror, trying to pull her away but she refused to budge from where she sat. "And what are you supposed to be? You look like a kindergarten drawing from a kid who's never even seen a cow in his life and's trying to scare the others."

Stones and dirt trickled down its head and body to join the rubble at its feet. "An insult most pointless, Annastasia. Enough of the false bluster. Let me have the Rock, and I'll be on my way. I didn't come to confront anyone, but you and the ferals keep trying my patience."

"Oh! Just that! I'm sorry about your feelings. We get you to talk for a few minutes, and you're annoyed? Amara's doing her job, and you're frustrated? You trick me and end up getting shot – and look at you! Survived getting shot and chopped into pieces so you could survive anything, I bet, and I even felt sorry for you – and you're upset?!" She stood up and glared at the radical, her contempt so thick that it could be cut with a knife. "I'm so sorry, you have my humblest apologies. I am sorry for offending your grace, we didn't know we were ruining your life!"

The monster was silent.

"How dare you." Annie seethed. "And all of this, for the Something?" She looked down at the Rock in her palm and pretended to observe it, and idly noted how clean her hands were. "Is your name on it? What's your name? Emissary? Is that your name?" She turned it over in her hands, feigning interest as her mockery persisted. "Well, I must be blind or you must be stupid, but there's no name on it. I found it. Only I could find it. That means it's mine."

"Yours to find. Not to keep."

"What a load of horseshi–" Her throat locked up so suddenly that it nearly made her stop breathing altogether. Sighing deeply to get her rate back under control, she glared at the monster who seemed to be growing larger by the minute, apparently endeavoring to intimidate her. "Are you trying to cower me down? How dare you."

"Child, hand over the Rock," the monster uttered, despite its mouth being in a state that shouldn't even articulate normal speech. "Now. Or you'll force my hand, and I'll kill you both." Conon was trying to pull his daughter away to escape through an alternative exit out of the power plant, but she shook him off, not willing to back down.

"How dare you," she repeated, her blood pounding in her ears as her complexion reddened, trying not to cry and lose face in front of her enemy. "What gave you the right – who gave you the right? Who gave you the right to toy with people, SkullHeart? Do you have any idea what you've done to me? You've ruined my life! You got my mother killed, plagued my daddy! You traumatized my best friend! You see how far we've come, all the way across Chess by the sea? We tried to forget you, tried to move on with whatever lives we've got left. You won't let me. I haven't been this happy in a long time. I finally found something that I like, something that understands me, and you're going to take it from me?! I've got no purpose. I can't live in peace, I can't even DIE in peace – why won't you leave me alone? Just leave me alone!"

The monstrosity glared down at Annastasia who was crying now, deciding that its objective was in sight and it didn't need to coddle the girl as per its mandate, lumbering forward and reaching for the Rock with its massive hand. "That's enough. I'll take it myself–"

"I said leave me ALONE!" she screamed, and an explosion of fire spewed out of the Rock, bathing the monstrosity in flames and pushing her back through the entrance from where she'd come. It didn't stop, and the fire blazed with such intensity that it started to reduce the scorched ground and the edges of the walls themselves into something almost more molten. The girl picked her way out from the power plant entrance, angry at the Skullheart, destiny, the world, and everything in it, angry that they all kept hurting her. "You can't have it! It's mine! It's mine, you hear me Skullheart?" The monster was trying to back away from the girl approaching it, but she didn't even have to get close, as a massive boulder seemingly flew from her – from thin air – towards it, and nearly squashed it into the ground if it hadn't mustered a dodge by oozing apart in the nick of time.

It slinked together and started reform safely in a new spot, but Annie was having none of it; her hand was balled around the Something with her index finger pointing straight out, and aiming. Large steel rods almost the size of load-bearing lumber launched like cannon fire, blasting out chunks of the viscous monster. It pulled back to rejoin its lost pieces, but as soon as it did, electricity instantly discharged like lightning from the rock in a straight bearing towards the metal rods behind the creature, arcing hundreds of millions of voltage that almost killed it instantly, vaporizing out a good chunk of the main body.

"You want it, come take it! Take it! It's all you wanted! It's all everyone wants! But you can't!" Apparently reforming on the sly with other pieces of itself, they joined to become Amara and her pole-axe, and dashed forward towards Annastasia, the axe readying in an attempt to halve her at the waist. Annie watched the woman carefully, half-aware that she was watching the telegraphed move and readying a counter – there was enough distance between them to plan and realize it. The woman was fast and her moves were quick, and the creature was nothing if not a good impersonator of the deadly warfighter. Undeterred, Annie pulled a metal rod almost as thick as a bat from the Rock and ran to meet the creature; she fell to her side in a sliding tackle into the False-Amara's feet at the last second, knocking the woman off-balance before she clubbed her face in with the rod, disfiguring her. The moment that she fell prostrate to the ground, she was looking down point-blank into the Rock that the girl was swinging towards her face, but it might as well have been a howitzer as it went off in her face and blasted her away into a pile of gravel almost at the other end of the worksite that scattered on impact.

"Insolent child–"

"Shut up and take the rock! It's all you wanted, isn't it? Just take it! Remember District 15, when I was fighting for my life to get what I wanted? How's it feel, knowing you're going to die to get something that might not even work? Come on, then!" Still seething upset, she prepared to create fire again, but the monster had morphed into Grace-Ann with a gun and pointed it at her. She hurriedly hid behind the earlier-created boulder just as the false woman started firing. Despite it being in the form of a flintlock pistol, the gun was firing non-stop, and hard pellets not unlike bullets bounced off the boulder and ricocheted at odd angles. While she was hiding, Annie noticed that Amara had been injured of sorts by the doorway to the power plant with Grace-Ann worrying over her. She hadn't even realized that she was fighting the monstrosity in the open without anyone around to harm as collateral damage, but it was frightening to think of how many more possibilities it opened up in the girl's repertoire of creations. Regardless, she created a rock identical to the Something and threw it overhead to where she knew the false-Grace-Ann to be.

The firing stopped immediately, no doubt that the monster had thought it was the prize it had come for, only for many more to come raining down around it, most of them black as soot. Confused, it realized that trickery was afoot and that the girl must still have the real one. Not paying the scattered rocks any mind, it made its way towards the boulder where the girl was still hiding behind to take the Something from her. Before it got too close to the boulder, however, Annastasia stood up from behind the cover and aimed the Rock at her enemy, safe from the bedlam about to erupt.

"You saw the future, didn't you? Didn't you? Then why haven't you taken the Rock from me yet? Didn't expect me to put up a fight?" Fire almost white-hot jetted out of the Something like a tidal surf most contrary, and burned down the monster. The black rocks revealed themselves to be spheres of blasting powder, and they went off in a flurry like intense landmines, blowing the scorched formless monster into bits. Long after the pandemonium had died down, Annie watched as the formless creature struggle to reform itself and could only do so sluggishly. An inexplicable mouth unneeding of breath and vocal cords spawned in one of the puddles of ick, begging for the girl to desist.

"We do know the future. We never meant to harm you, we only wanted the Rock–"

"Lies. I've been in harm's way almost all my life. My mummy's died thinking she's done the best thing for me, and my daddy's killing himself with worry over me. You see me? You see me – look at me!" Several eyes immediately formed in several of the puddles as they continued to rally effort to pull themselves together. They looked like compound eyes, from where she stared down but Annie didn't care. Tone thickened with sadness, she was weeping, but it did little to detract from her saying slowly and dangerously, "you have ruined my life. Everyone I look up to and respect? They'll die. Everyone who looks like me? They're children, and couldn't hope to understand me. I can't form relationships anymore. The closest thing I've had to love was with Gregory, and he's moved on without me. I'll never be able to love or bond with anyone without seeing their gravestone in my head, and seeing it for real seventy-odd years down the line! You come to me as a shapeshifter? Can I even trust anyone again? You think you haven't harmed me?!"

The rhetoric was angry, and the girl was boiling beneath the surface. The monster didn't speak, trying to stall long enough to reform to take the crying girl by surprise in some way and steal the rock, or at least escape to lick its wounds. The girl came closer and knelt on one knee, perhaps it could take the rock from her, no matter how tightly she held it in a white-knuckled grip.

"You made me, Skullheart. You made me, and you've broken me. You see me? Monster, you've broken me! Do you know how long I'll live? You can see the future, can't you? Or do you already know it? How long will I live?"

The creature didn't answer immediately but eventually did. "An eternity."

Annastasia brushed her free arm across her face to wipe her tears away, fury replacing most of whatever she hadn't already cried out.

"Then Skullheart, you must have a cowpie for a brain. You failed to take the Rock from me this time. You know what that means? You didn't know the future for certain, otherwise, you would've won today." The creature was still quiet, readying to grab the Rock, but for all its silence, the girl's rage refused to quell. "All that mattered to you was getting the Something, and you made me immortal to make sure I'd live long enough to find it. After you got the Rock for yourself, did you ever think of what would happen to the girl? I bet you still had plans for me, didn't you? Daddy thinks so. Wanted me to join you? Maybe make a stupid wish – I'm good at those – and end up as a Skullgirl? Maybe end up as one of the dead ones? You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"Some hasten their demise, but others try their best to outlast fate. Everything dies at some point."

"But I won't." The girl's teeth ground together in her anger and frustration. "You know the future? You actually don't. Let me tell you exactly what's going to happen." She inched closer, her tone bitter and freezing with deadly intent. "I'll spend my entire life coming after you, finding you. You could come after me again to try taking the Rock, I don't care who finds whom first. I'll kill you next year, seven years after that, a hundred years, a thousand, I'll kill you a million times if that's what it takes. I'll burn you down to ashes, drown you in the deepest sea. I'll use lightning and sear right through you. I'll bury you under a mountain in the deepest mineshaft I can dig– I'll bring the sky down on your head if I have to!"

"To go to such lengths, then you realize that you can't win."

"So long as you keep losing, I win. If that has to be my life's purpose – you know I throw myself headfirst at anything I aim for – I'll hunt you down and destroy your wicked Heart of Darkness over and over, even if all it does is spite you, and set your goals back, whatever they are. You'll spend eternity failing – Who knows, maybe eventually, no one will even want to make wishes, and you'll be ostracized with no purpose to exist! When everyone's gone, I'll do exactly as you expect – I'll unleash infinity from the Rock and end both it and the world, annihilating everything into nothing but scraps of cosmic dust. If you dare to still be around after all that, you'll just drift around in empty space, alone, and you'll finally know exactly how I feel!"

"All you have to do is give us the Rock. It does not have to be like this."

"Oh, right. Because you're so clever. That'll just make things simpler; why didn't I think of that before?" she asked sarcastically, trembling with contempt. "Look at my hands. You see them? When you got shot, I was holding pressure over it, but you still bled over them. They're clean now." She showed her free hand. "See? None of that disgusting dribble you call blood. No one even noticed, not even me up until just now. Want to know what happened?"

The creature didn't respond.

"Remember District 15 when I was trying to resurrect my mummy? I was so close, I could touch the Heart. But you had Rachel destroy you. Power so close, and disappearing right before my eyes. It was so disappointing, but I'm much nicer, no more games. Here, take the Rock. Take it, it's your only and last chance." Annie held out the Something towards the monster, not paying any attention to the frantic yells of Grace-Ann and her father for her to desist, and when the creature didn't muster the effort to take the Rock, she dropped it into the main puddle that the creature was. Almost instantly, it started to screech and all but withered away as it aged into dust, leaving the girl alone to stare impassively at the plain spherical Rock amongst the powder that remained. As it died, the rest of the creature both inconsequential or scattered amongst the wrecked worksite finally stilled. "Pushed this curse on me, never even realizing you can't touch it either. Now we'll go around the cycle again, and let's see you do your worst."

Picking up the Something, her gift and her curse, she got up from her aching knee – she must've been half-kneeling on a pebble, and she rubbed it to soothe the ache in her knee. She didn't bother checking herself for any injuries, she didn't incur any. She felt enervated, her body and spirit on the decline. Food. Right, she hadn't eaten, and she was still very hungry. She'd feel better after she got something to eat. Annie made an apple and – not just ignoring the lifeless taste but also accepting it – she ate it all.

Yes, it'd filled a need, but another one begged to be assuaged. Her heart flagged, coming to grips that everyone's worst fears were ringing true including her own: she was destined to carry on her life alone fighting an undying evil. For now, she had the Rock, the beginning of the universe, with all of its infinite ingredients to recreate it. The Skullheart wanted it, and for now, if all her purpose in life was to simply be a hindrance and an enemy to the supernatural entity, then so be it; any purpose was better than none, better than any purpose that it had tried to create for her.

With the sounds of violence and fighting over, some of the refugees started to emerge from the wrecked power plant entrance, looking out at the destruction that the worksite had become. A few of them kept asking Conon and the Satori sisters what had taken place, but they were silent, unable to process what they themselves had seen. Most of them stared at the isolated taciturn girl in the midst of the destroyed work yard, seated on a concrete block and was crunching away at her tasteless fruits, refusing to join them. She felt unable to. Tightly gripping the Rock, the girl couldn't see anything beyond them all other than being walking tombstones.

It was going to be a lonely eternity.