Perhaps, Fal-Mai would admit, her admiration for the Commander went beyond mere respect.

It was not as if she still didn't hold it for the Commander, of course; based on the things Eliza had done and how she carried herself, Fal-Mai highly respected a leader such as her. Her actions put the Elders in perspective and helped to reinforce the notion that they were not truly concerned with her wellbeing.

But... Fal-Mai knew what respect felt like. She felt it for Sammy, who set aside his differences—if he had any in the first place with her—to do his job and even reach out for her. She felt it for Bradford, who kept Eliza guided through her conquest against the Elders and showed a measure of compassion for the Chosen. She would even begrudgingly admit that she felt it more, nowadays, towards her brothers. However, what she felt for Eliza was... different, in a way she could feel but not name.

The difference was something Fal-Mai could experience when the Commander did certain things. Eliza smiled, and Fal-Mai felt the keen urge to smile along with her. The Commander laughed, and the Assassin's chest felt weightless. When the two shared contact... that was when her heart raced. She couldn't understand it. She had no words for what Eliza did to her. "Nervousness" was the closest she could put it as, but she'd never associated nervousness with the joy the Commander made her feel. There was something different that stirred in her heart and made her want to know more.

The only way to know more, as far as Fal-Mai was concerned, was to spend more time with Eliza and try to name the feeling on her own. She wouldn't concern anyone else with what she felt—for all she knew, it was something obvious or even worse, something wrong. Sammy's reaction to feeling her experiencing it had to be indicative of something. So, Fal-Mai would investigate this on her own, and if it did turn out to be incorrect in some way? She would not need to bother anyone else with it.

With it all in the back of her mind, Fal-Mai was quietly roaming the halls of the Avenger, cloak down. She would normally keep it up, but she was searching for Eliza at the moment. The Commander hadn't been in the Resistance Ring, and with her recent... incident, Fal-Mai didn't take her to be in the GTS. That left one last possible location in her quarters, all things considered. Perhaps she would encounter the Commander along the way.

That was growing less and less likely as Fal-Mai went on, keeping her eyes forward as she ignored any soldiers that crossed her path. Hopefully Eliza wasn't too busy. Fal-Mai would hate to interrupt any of her duties—and she seemed to have a knack for keeping busy throughout the day. It hardly seemed as if there was a moment where Fal-Mai could pop in without stopping her in the middle of something.

When Fal-Mai reached Eliza's door, she reasoned that she would quickly step in, see how Eliza was doing, and if she wasn't too busy, the Assassin would simply... what? Talk with her? Hang around and say nothing? Truthfully, outside of remaining in Eliza's presence, Fal-Mai hadn't come up with much of a game plan, and it embarrassed her slightly. She shouldn't be rushing into these kinds of things unprepared! Though, Eliza seemed to have a knack for conversation. Fal-Mai would probably be able to rely on her to keep things going.

Still thinking and a little distracted by it, Fal-Mai opened the door to the Commander's Quarters, leaning in. "Commander? Are you—"

Eliza wasn't at her desk. She wasn't over at the chairs. Rather, Eliza was over by her bed, her back to Fal-Mai. The Commander had pants on... and that was about it.

Recognition flashing through her mind, Fal-Mai practically tripped over herself backing out of the door as it closed, throwing a cloak over herself in a flustered haste as she pressed her hands to her eyes. Of course. Of course she wouldn't have the decency to knock and would instead barge in on Eliza changing!

She could hear footsteps coming to the door... and what sounded like the tail end of Eliza laughing. "F-Fal-Mai!" There was a thump, like Eliza had slumped against the door. "Fal-Mai, I'm," Eliza breathed, still laughing, "I'm sorry! I need to—to lock my door more often!"

Fal-Mai could hardly respond. What she'd just did was still flashing through her mind, and judging by the heat rushing to her face, she was probably turning entirely orange. She lifted her cloak enough to be heard. "I-it is s-simply a—a fault of my own that I..." Oh, she couldn't answer anymore, mentally tugging the cloak down again in a fit of embarrassment. She had half a mind to run herself through with her sword. What was she thinking, simply barging in? Yes, she had been distracted by her thoughts, but that was certainly no excuse!

From the sounds of it, Eliza was still against the door. "H-hey, it's—it's fine." A bit more chuckling, then she wound down. "I was just changing out of my workout clothes since I could finally make it over to my quarters. Give me a minute to finish dressing and I'll be right with you, ok?"

Fal-Mai nodded, realized Eliza couldn't see that, and then gave a squeak of affirmation. Oh, whatever gods could listen, spare her now. She could hear Eliza trek away from the door, and only then she lifted her cloak and took in a deep breath. Goodness. Perhaps she could've stopped at the door and listened, or knocked, or asked what Eliza was doing... well, it had happened. All she could do now was resolve to not repeat the mistake in the future... and try to get that image of Eliza out of her mind. For a human who didn't fight of her own accord, Eliza kept in shape. A noble pursuit, Fal-Mai thought, but that was all she thought of it until she forcefully hushed her line of thought.

A little while later, and she heard Eliza's voice through the door. "I'm done now, you can come in!"

Letting the breath she'd taken in go, Fal-Mai tapped the pad and slowly walked in, eyes remaining on the floor for a bit before she raised them. Eliza was back in her Commander's uniform again... and her eyes were far more vibrant than they had been before. They had been a washed-out blue, but now they were more electric, more light and saturated. Her hair was a few shades lighter, with more notable white streaks. Were Fal-Mai's eyes tricking her, or was the Commander's hair a bit longer, as well? Still, inspection done, Fal-Mai had apologies to get to. "I-I must apologize, Commander, it is deeply embarrassing of me to do what I just did..."

Chuckling lightly, Eliza waved it off. "No, no, I need to lock my door more often. Most people kinda just come in anyways, so I need to adapt around that. Hope I didn't scar you for life, at least." She grinned. "Though, judging by the shade of orange you've turned, perhaps I did."

Oh. Fal-Mai knew she was blushing, but for the Commander to see it was another story. The urge to jump back in her cloak was strong. "N-nevertheless. I i-intruded on your privacy."

The Commander shrugged. "No harm, no foul. What can I do for you, Fals?"

Taking in a steadying breath, Fal-Mai stood up straight and grew the courage to look Eliza in the eye. "I merely wished to shadow you in your duties today, Commander. I feel as if I will grow more comfortable in sharing my personal struggles with you if I know more about you." That was part of the reason, at least. Fal-Mai couldn't bring herself to let Eliza know the true reason. Perhaps part of you getting more comfortable in sharing will result in sharing that. It was a hope, at least.

She nodded. "Sure! But, hm..." Eliza clasped her hands in front of her. "Part of my duties today involve picking up a new recruit over at the main Skirmisher camp. You can hang out with me afterwards if the prospect isn't so grand, of course, but I wanted to let you know."

That explained why they'd landed earlier today, at least. But, still... the notion of showing her face in front of the Skirmishers was a daunting one. She knew what she was to them—the Butcher of Freed ADVENT. Nightmaiden. A quiet whisper of the grave on the wind. If she were to show herself there, even beside the Commander, it was asking for trouble. Even so, the prospect was promising. If Mordenna was going around and apologizing to those who he had wronged, what excuse did she have? If she truly wanted to make herself shine in Eliza's eyes, it would be a good place to start.

Shaking her head, Fal-Mai subconsciously mimicked Eliza's pose. "No, Commander. I would be happy to accompany you if they would have me. You will most likely have to give them advance notice, of course, but I have amends of my own I wish to make."

The smile the Commander gave her was encouraging. "Good to hear, Fal-Mai. In that case, follow me to the Resistance Ring. I'll place the call there so Betos knows you're coming, and of your own accord, at that." With that, Eliza walked past Fal-Mai and over to the door. Fal-Mai followed after her, gently ducking under the door as she did. It was easy to guess that the Skirmishers would not receive her apology so easily. She had been a butcher of their kind for the year that she was alive, and had shown no signs of redemption. It took one such as Eliza to see the discontent after what had happened to Mordenna and Jax...

Hugging herself, Fal-Mai blew a quiet breath out of her nose. She preferred not to linger on the memories of such a time... but all it took was remembering the agony that Jax had experienced and equally, the grief that Mordenna put forth in the midst of the pain. It had almost been an echo chamber, with all of their suffering resonating in each other. Fal-Mai was glad she had been left alone to endure it, in a way. Aspects of it still hurt, though, like a wound not properly treated. She'd wanted to discuss them with Eliza when it was clear she could trust the Commander with such subjects, but other things had come up. Later. Perhaps before you both contact Betos. Right now, walking through the hallways? Far too risky.

The walk was quiet as they made their way to the Resistance Ring, Eliza occasionally checking over her shoulder to make sure Fal-Mai was indeed following behind her. She did have a rather quiet step, but it almost felt as if Eliza was trying to figure out an avenue of conversation to open. When we get to the Ring. When we get there. The tension was mounting.

The door to the room opened, and the two stepped on in. Eliza made her way over to the table. "This is going to be interesting. Stand over here with me so she can see you."

Alright. Now was her chance. Fal-Mai stepped over to Eliza. Now.

She watched as Eliza tapped a few buttons on the pad that was on the table. Now's the time.

A list of contacts popped up, and Eliza chose Betos. Ask her! Say something! Don't just watch!

No matter how hard she willed herself, Fal-Mai couldn't bring forth the words to stop Eliza and ask her to sit down with her. She knew why—she would be interrupting Eliza, possibly inconveniencing her. This meeting had to be at least somewhat time-sensitive. Fal-Mai didn't want to delay it. Besides, there was the underlying reason as well... Fal-Mai didn't want to admit the ghosts of the past still haunted her. She had her talk with Eliza. Everything was supposed to be fixed. Why was this still a problem for her?

The screen at the end of the room lit up, and the image of Betos came to life. She seemed moderately surprised to see the Assassin hanging over the Commander, and Fal-Mai did her best to look dignified as she remained in sight. "Commander. Assassin."

"General Betos," Eliza replied. "You probably know we're in the area, depending on how many buildings Bradford knocked over."

That got a smile out of the Skirmisher, but not much else. "As we are aware. I see the Assassin is with you on this day."

She nodded. "She's as willing to fight back against the Elders as you are, Betos, and I think you'll be intrigued to hear what she wants to do as I pick up my new recruit. Fal-Mai?"

Seems it was her turn to speak. Fal-Mai leveled a calm gaze at Betos. "It is no secret that I have wronged you and your kind, General. I have been a messenger of death to your kind for the year I have been alive, and my crimes against your people are numerous. Now that I am no longer controlled by the Elders and their false pretenses, I wish to apologize to you and yours, in person if you will allow me." She took in a deep breath. "Even as I speak about being 'controlled' by the False Gods..." That was the term that Sammy used at one point, right? "... that does not excuse my actions fully. I understand if you will not accept my apologies—you are owed that much after how much I have wronged you."

It was a quiet moment of staring between her and Betos, and Fal-Mai felt as if she was being judged. She fully expected Betos to rebuff her apology—not everyone was Eliza, and not everyone knew the kind of treatment Fal-Mai had went through. She did not think it justified her actions in the slightest; she was still Chosen, and performed cruel actions of her own accord. She would gladly bear her sins, as it was only right that she did.

After a while, Betos began to speak. "—Were you to ask me at the beginning of this year if I would accept a reformed Assassin, I would answer negatively. But, presented with the Chosen in front of me now, and with the implicit endorsement of the Commander..." She spread her hands out, then clasped them again. "I find myself leaning more towards accepting your apology, Assassin. However. The damage you have done to me and mine cannot be fixed with one apology after a year of violent transgressions. I find it well that you wish to come and express your apologies in person—but I cannot say that neither I nor my Skirmishers will accept it right away. Rightfully, you have caused much harm with your actions, controlled by the Elders or not. I will gladly accept you coming to our camp to lay out your apologies—provided you are accompanied by the Commander."

A weight leaving Fal-Mai's shoulders, she nodded. "Of course. Consider myself honored that you would even consider to accept my apology."

Betos gave a knowing smile. "Admittedly, half of my willingness comes from the way Combat Medic Samhien speaks of you. If I did not know any better, I would say he considers you a friend."

That was enough to make Fal-Mai smile ever so slightly. "Since I consider him one, I would only hope that is the impression you receive from him. Still, it is humbling to be talked fondly of behind my back."

"Something all of us can hope for," Eliza added, hands clasped in front of her. "That cover everything? I'd love to come down and see you in person again, Betos."

If Fal-Mai didn't know any better, Betos seemed a little flustered with what Eliza said, but she recovered quickly. "Of course, Commander. I look forward to it." With that, Betos reached for something below the desk she was at, and the feed cut.

Eliza turned and headed for the door. "Well, you heard her. Let's go down and facilitate a bit of goodwill, yeah?"

Fal-Mai nodded... but found herself rooted to the spot even as Eliza moved on. You have to tell her. You have to. But they'd already told Betos they'd be right down. Fal-Mai couldn't interrupt this, especially now. She didn't want to inconvenience Eliza. She told you that you could talk to her at any time. This should be no different! Any other time she would just be interrupting paperwork and logs that Eliza could get back to without a strict time schedule. This was different.

Eliza got as far as getting to the door before checking over her shoulder to see if Fal-Mai was following. When she spotted her still over by the table, she turned to her. "Fal-Mai? Everything alright?"

Tell her! "... everything is... fine, Commander. I am merely... thinking, of what to say."

That certainly wasn't enough to convince Eliza, whose hand fell away from the pad. "—Fal-Mai, if there's something wrong, you can tell me. I think Betos can handle us being a little bit late—I can just tell her afterwards that we had a bit of a delay. We've got basically all day to go down there."

Despite everything, despite Eliza out-and-out telling her that it would be fine to be late... Fal-Mai still felt pressured to assure her that everything was fine and they could move on. But, that need to tell her, that need to be comforted won out. Fal-Mai crossed her arms defensively. "... there is something I wish to speak with you about. It... it is not related to today's task. It is something I have been thinking of for a while."

In response, Eliza walked up to her and gently took one of her hands, looking up at her with soft eyes. "I'm all ears, Fal-Mai."

Looking down at her, Fal-Mai eventually held the Commander's hands, walking over to one of the couches and sitting down with her. She took in a deep breath, breathing it out slowly. Approaching this was difficult. It was an open admittance that their last talk hadn't solved the problem, and it made her feel ashamed. Knowing this, Fal-Mai started to speak. "I... I know this will tell just how little I have been able to learn from our last talk, Eliza, but I still feel as if I am... fractured. Unable to come to terms with myself."

"Hey." Eliza squeezed her hands. "Almost nothing serious gets fixed with one round of repairs. If we need to have a few talks on a subject, that's completely fine. You aren't weak for needing help—everyone does, eventually."

While it didn't remove Fal-Mai's hangups going forward, it was still soothing to hear Eliza say that it was fine. Fal-Mai took her as a voice of reason, and tried to remember her words as she spoke. "—perhaps that is true. Nevertheless, I wanted to speak of this." She took in a deep breath again. "I am... struggling, with feeling inadequate, again."

Eliza nodded seriously, her thumb rubbing against Fal-Mai's hands. "Anything in particular?"

Fal-Mai looked away. "It is a matter of my brothers. Specifically, Jax-Rai. I..." Right. Eliza probably didn't know about their linkage. She turned back to the Commander. "All three of us Chosen, we share a very weak mental link. Enough to know if one of us has died... or is undergoing extreme distress or pain."

The Commander looked somewhat disturbed at the info, but the look was traded for a sympathetic one. "—I suppose that means you felt that, last week, when I had went in to check on him."

She nodded, confirming as much. "That is what I wish to speak of. It is not often that I feel Jax's emotions though the link—mostly Mordenna—but when I had felt his pain, his sorrow, his fear?" Fal-Mai closed her eyes. "I had wanted to enter and make sure he was alright. What the Elders had inflicted upon him, no being should suffer. Let alone Jax, who only followed them with admiration in his heart. I am fully aware you were with him, but even as I think over not entering in the end now..." She opened her eyes, but kept them lidded. "I can only think of myself of being an inadequate sister. If we are to get along, surely we should be there for each other, yes?"

After she was done, Fal-Mai searched Eliza's face, expecting to find some measure of understanding. What she saw instead was a quiet pride. "Fal-Mai. Let me first say that your thinking towards Jax is exactly what you should be thinking as a good sister. I can understand hesitating to enter because you don't know what to do because of your former history. But the fact that you're establishing that as what you should do speaks volumes. As always, you're not inadequate, Fal-Mai—you're learning. This is the first time you've encountered situations and feelings like this, I'd wager. Considering that, you're doing well."

To hear assurances and praise like that out of Eliza, even as she was sure she was failing at handling the whole situation... Fal-Mai felt no small measure of relief. Although there was a part of her that was still unsure, a part of her that still argued that she should've been there for Jax, she chose to heed Eliza's words. She threaded her fingers between Eliza's, squeezing her hands. "Please let me say how thankful I am, Eliza, that you are now the one seeing to me, rather than the Elders. I... I do not think I could ask for a better confidant and supporter."

Eliza's smile felt like it could melt ice with how warm it made Fal-Mai feel. "I'm happy to be here for you, Fal-Mai. It makes me happy to know you're happy. If you're looking for what to do in the future for Jax... if you feel that link of yours telling you he's going through an episode again, find him and comfort him. I know things between the three of you are still tentatively getting better, but I think it would speak worlds to him if you showed him you feel empathy for his plight and wanted to help him as he went through it."

Fal-Mai bobbed her head, taking the advice. Eliza just spoke to her, in so many ways. What Fal-Mai had been sure would be a tense conversation was anything but. Satisfied and happy that she'd covered the problem and now had solid advice she could follow, Fal-Mai freed her hands of Eliza's—just long enough to draw her in for a hug. "I do not think I can thank you enough, Eliza. My debt to you is a hundredfold, and I am glad to be your blade."

With her psionics now exposed and somewhat active, Fal-Mai could feel Eliza's signature practically hum with happiness at this distance. "I'm glad to have you, Fal-Mai. Resolutely and firmly. Just don't feel like you owe me—you deserve to have someone looking out for you."

Was it possible for this warm feeling in Fal-Mai's chest to grow any further? As it stood, Fal-Mai was teetering on the edge of being downright giddy at Eliza's assurances. It was enough to make the Assassin smile and hug Eliza closer. "Thank you, again."

"It's no problem."

Fal-Mai simply held Eliza like that for a few more moments. Truthfully, she didn't want the embrace to end. It brought her so much comfort to be this close to her. But eventually, she remembered that they still had tasks to attend to today. With a content sigh, Fal-Mai let go of Eliza, continuing to smile at her. "Now. I believe we have a new recruit to pick up?"

If Fal-Mai didn't know any better, she'd take the subtle hue of Eliza's face to be a blush. Couldn't be. "Yeah. Is that everything you wanted to cover?"

Nodding, she moved to stand. "Yes, Eliza. Until I wish to have a talk with you again, of course."

Patting her side, Eliza got up with her. "Good to hear, good to hear. Let's head out for our new soldier."


The dark gray clouds that hung in the air seemed to echo what Fal-Mai felt as she walked behind Eliza towards the Skirmisher camp.

Fal-Mai did not think herself fearful of Skirmishers. Before, she loathed them. Now... she felt a sense of kinship. Having discovered the Elders' true nature herself, she now no longer blamed them for wanting to run from that reality. She knew that they would not see her in the same light, for all that she had done to them. Even so, she wanted to extend the possibility of forgiveness... and perhaps that was what scared her. As at peace as she was with the idea of them rejecting her, the sheer notion of being rejected in her reformation scared her. Even for as much as she thought she would deserve it, there were parts of her still frightened at what would happen, where she would turn.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she set her eyes forward. The camp in front of her was one of the largest she'd seen. Skirmisher camps largely shared the same look and feel, in her experience—squat, purpose-built buildings that echoed the aesthetics of ADVENT construction even in their scavenged nature. Skirmishers, some with helmets on, some without, were patrolling the perimeter. Up high in watchtowers, she watched as one or two tracked her with their gaze, undoubtedly unsettled at the Butcher of Freed ADVENT being in their camp, despite her allegiance. Through the alleys and air, her ears caught whispers.

"She is here. Why has the Commander brought her?"

"What would the Assassin have with us?"

"Why has she been allowed in?"

"She must've planned this."

At such whispers, Fal-Mai kept her gaze near Eliza, doing her best to not make eye contact. Didn't want to seem as if she was staring any of them down, after all. Eliza herself walked with an admirable confidence, defusing a bit of the atmosphere as she nodded to passing Skirmishers. Fal-Mai was sure that she was no stranger to such suspicion. The Commander must've had to fight through a lot of friction as she rallied allies to herself.

Eventually, they approached a heavily-fortified building, something that looked more like a repurposed ADVENT facility than any of the other buildings around. As far as Fal-Mai knew, it might've well been. Twin guards at the door had their weapons held at rest—though their fingers twitched towards the triggers as they laid eyes on the Assassin. One of them looked to Eliza and spoke up. "Commander. You would bring the Butcher before us?"

"Only by her own will," Eliza replied. "And only because I am confident in her."

"You may be confident," he returned, "but even you know the atrocities she has committed. She has laid thousands that just wished for peace dead. You would allow her to walk beside you?"

Though Fal-Mai couldn't see Eliza's face, the expression on it was enough to get both soldiers to back down slightly. When Eliza spoke again, her voice was level. "If you're anything more than a yearling, then you would know the atrocities I have committed. You would know that I was the one in your ear, guiding you on as you fought against those who wanted peace."

"We were controlled, Commander," the second guard spoke, rushing to her partner's defense. "As were you. You were imprisoned."

"As was she, a prisoner to the Elders' will. If you want to shoot her for what she's done, you're going to have to kill me, too. Do you want to get that out of the way now, or later?"

That sent both of them into an embarrassed silence. The fact that Eliza was so willing to leverage the crimes she, too, had committed while the head of the Network for the Elders was curious. Most would argue what she did during that time wasn't her fault—yet here she was, arguing against that in a way, directly calling to attention what she did. A dangerous gamble, especially around Skirmishers.

A gamble that paid off, as the male Skirmisher gestured to the door with his gun. "... the General is waiting for you."

"Excellent. The two of you have a nice day." With that, the guard opened the door for the two of them, and Eliza stepped inside, with Fal-Mai trailing behind her. The interior of the building confirmed Fal-Mai's suspicions—under a cover of wires, maps, and weaponry, the telltale makings of an ADVENT facility were present. Near the center of a room, standing at a table with communications equipment spread across it, was General Betos. Her... former sworn enemy.

Curious enough was the Sectoid standing near her. It was dressed in makeshift armor, fitted for it, with a Skirmisher flag being used as a shawl to cover it. A quick glance at the blaster on its arm told of modifications already done. It locked eyes with Fal-Mai and stumbled back. "Wh-what is the Assassin here for?" It spoke in ADVENT, clear to Fal-Mai's ears.

Eliza walked over, looking to Betos. "Does she know English? If not, I can manage—my ADVENT's just a little rusty."

Betos shook her head, then addressed the Sectoid. "Arachne. She comes on peaceful terms, and walks with XCOM, now."

"I had known the Hunter to be with them," she replied, slowly approaching the table again, "but not her. I'm... I'm surprised you let her in."

"Times change, years pass, the strange becomes normal." Eliza sounded like she was having a bit of trouble remembering her words, but otherwise her ADVENT sounded fine. Fal-Mai guessed she must've picked it up during her time in the Network. The Commander went over and extended a hand to Arachne. "Arachne, is it? I am Eliza, Commander of XCOM."

Cautiously, Arachne took the hand offered to her. Eliza shook, and then she took it back. "You already know my name, I see. I suppose Betos told you."

Eliza nodded. "She did. What's your story? I didn't get that."

Arachne cleared her throat. "I was part of a squadron when the Hunter was severed. I was already having 'deviant' thoughts when you were disconnected, but largely kept them at bay out of fear. With him severed, the chip that held sway over me no longer spoke."

"One of my doctors took it out," Betos added. "He found it completely fried."

"That seems to be a trend." Eliza gestured to Arachne. "I assume you made your escape after that and went to the Skirmishers?"

Arachne bobbed her head. "I... did not want to approach any havens. For good reason, I felt they wouldn't trust me. I couldn't find any other possible XCOM outposts, so my next thought was the Skirmishers. I approached this camp, not knowing I'd directly found their main headquarters. Suffice to say the welcome was... tense."

For good reason, Fal-Mai knew. The paranoia that must've arose when Arachne approached... nevertheless, Fal-Mai shook her head. "It is good that they allowed you in. In this war, I believe the Commander will take any allies she can."

"I suppose I have to believe that too, with you standing there." Arachne's tone was not unkind, but there was some air of mild disbelief to it. "Nevertheless. Commander, may I join with your forces?"

"Of course." Eliza nodded to Arachne, smiling. "Welcome to XCOM, Arachne. We'll get you situated after Fal-Mai finishes her business here."

Straightening, Fal-Mai took that as her cue. She looked to Betos. "I come as I am, General. I wish to extend my apologies once more, and hope that my showing up here attests to that."

In-person, Betos's judging stare was even more powerful. "And I repeat my sentiment—time will tell regarding forgiveness. Though the gesture of you coming here yourself is not lost on me. Even so, my Skirmishers are not wrong to mistrust and fear you."

Fal-Mai inclined her head respectfully. "I understand. If there is anything more I can do to assist the process, I would be grateful to know."

"Perhaps coming with the Commander whenever she needs to visit in person will help. The more that my kind see that you pass through here with no intention to harm, the more used to you they will grow. Assuredly you know that this process will take some time."

"Of course. I would not expect their opinions to change overnight, especially with what I have done."

Betos nodded, then something seemed to occur to her. She turned to address both the Commander and the Assassin. "There is another matter I wish to discuss with the both of you. Two concerning missions have made themselves known."

"Interesting." Eliza clasped her arms in front of her. "Let's hear them."

"Firstly, Arachne came to me with the coordinates to the facility her allies were protecting." Walking over to one part of the map, she pointed to it. "She has identified it as a potential Blacksite, though she did not know what it was being used for."

"Probably another lab. Still, I'd be happy to take on the mission. The more we can disrupt their efforts, the better."

"I will send the coordinates to the Avenger as soon as I can. As for the other mission..." Searching, Betos eventually found the paper she was looking for, draping it on the top and gesturing to it. "We have recently lost a patrol or two around this area, with no known cause. Observation from afar reports the entrance of a cave, with skulls—human and alien—stacked around it. My scouts could not confirm this, but there appeared to be a facility just beyond the mouth of the cave. If your soldiers could approach and determine what's going on, it would be much appreciated."

"That's certainly an odd location." Eliza rubbed her chin. "ADVENT typically don't bother hiding their facilities outside of the standard 'building them out in the middle of nowhere' strategy. About the closest I've seen them get was Mordenna's Stronghold, and even then, he's said that was more him than anything else. And the alien skulls... I'd want to investigate based on that alone. Send me the coordinates when we're done here and I'd be happy to check it out."

"Of course, Commander." Betos stood back up from her lean over the table. "That is all I had for you. Do you have anything more to impart?"

"Other than it's good to see you again? Not much else, Betos."

With a smile, Betos crossed her arms. "It is good to see you as well, Commander. I hope the path ahead finds you well. You may depart."

Nodding, Eliza walked away from the table, looking back at Arachne. "Well, come on. I'll get you settled in on the Avenger." Soon, they were exiting the main building, Arachne following behind them. Eliza grinned back at Fal-Mai. "I like it when everything comes together. Back to the Avenger?"

Fal-Mai gave her a gentle smile in return. "Of course."


Not wanting to intimidate the new recruit by hovering as she was being shown around, Fal-Mai had broken off from the Commander for the moment, walking towards the Bar of all places.

Her interest had been drawn when she could sense Jax of all people hanging out there. He was the exact last kind of Chosen she'd expect to be taking up residence in such a room. Naturally, she had to investigate and see what was going on. She made it there quietly, opening the door and looking on in.

The Bar was relatively empty—the memorial wall was currently covered by a curtain and there were only three people at the bar itself. Jax and Mordenna were seated on stools, while Bradford leaned on the counter, behind it. Mordenna sounded like he was in the middle of a conversation when Fal-Mai stepped in; he must've heard her enter, as he turned back and caught sight of her, grinning. "Fals! Sister of mine! Join us, we're in the middle of a great discussion."

"If you count 'what does and does not classify soup' as a great discussion, of course," Jax grumbled, but without his usual distaste.

"Of course it is!" Mordenna pointed at him, revealing he had a beer in one of his hands. "You haven't gotten up and left yet, so obviously you're hanging off of my every word and waiting to hear more."

Jax groaned, and the whole scene instilled a cautious optimism in Fal-Mai. Indeed, if Jax was sitting through Mordenna's usual ramblings after what had happened, it was a good sign. She looked over to Bradford, who gave her a dead stare back. "No, I'm trying my hardest to not be involved in this."

"Despite my best efforts." Mordenna sighed and looked downcast for all of a second before he beckoned Fal-Mai over, smiling again. "C'mon, sis. I wanna hear your take. Puddles—soup or not?"

The frankness of the question struck Fal-Mai dumb for a second before she shook her head, coming over and joining the two of them with sitting at the bar. "What... what is your definition of a puddle being a soup?"

"Ok." Mordenna set down his beer, gesturing as he set up his definition. "A soup comprises, as far as Jax and I have boiled down, a bowl, the broth, and optionally fillings. In the case of chicken noodle, you've got the bowl, the chicken broth, and then the chicken bits and noodles, naturally. You can have soup without fillings, of course—that's how plain ol' tomato soup exists. Under this logic, Jax and I have tentatively agreed that cereal counts as a soup. However!" He pointed back at Jax. "He won't accept that puddles are natural soups. Think about it. The earth is the bowl, the water's the broth, and whatever pebbles that have been kicked into it is the filling."

For a second, Fal-Mai deliberated even contributing to the discussion. Surely this was the kind of madness that would see no end. But, as she looked to Mordenna, excitedly waiting on her answer, to Jax, trying and failing to hide a begrudging grin, and Bradford, shaking his head amiably, she could tell that this was something they were all enjoying. Taking part would be a good sibling activity, yes?

Something occurred to Fal-Mai, and she smiled gently. "By your logic, the brain is a viable soup." At Mordenna's fascinated expression, she continued. "The 'bowl' is your skull. The 'broth' is the suspension fluid. And the 'filling' is the brain itself. That scans by your reasoning, yes?"

It was Mordenna's turn to be struck dumb, blankly staring at Fal-Mai for a few seconds. Then, he erupted in laughter as Jax looked on, groaning. "See what you've done, sister? I would think you against encouraging Mordenna's antics."

Fal-Mai shrugged. "It is a harmless activity. Amusing, even. I find Mordenna's curious debates interesting."

Mordenna took a second to recover from his uproarious laughter, wiping at his eye. "Oh, god, Fal-Mai, you're great. At least you're willing to play ball."

Jax huffed. "And our eventual conclusion that cereal is, indeed, a soup was not me 'playing ball?'"

"Dude." Mordenna turned around to face Jax again. "I had to argue you to that conclusion. You were the one saying it wasn't while not having an alternate conclusion!"

"It is ridiculousness, is what it is!"

"Oh, so now the purple Pope is going to lecture me on ridiculousness!"

"Enough, you two," Bradford interrupted, rubbing his forehead. "Mordenna, if you keep talking, your beer's going to get warm."

Mordenna wheeled around to face Bradford, fully utilizing his stool's swiveling nature. "You think I care how cold my beer is? All I'm doing is drinking it for that sweet, sweet bitterness. Everything else can get out." After saying that, he grabbed his drink and chugged back a fair portion of it, setting it roughly back down on the counter when he was done.

Bradford eyed his beer. "Do you Chosen even get drunk, anyway?"

"Nah." Mordenna shook his head. "As far as I know—haven't dissected myself or my siblings yet, but I'm working on it—our livers are advanced to the point where they can effortlessly filter out the alcohol. Elders did something right, though I'd really pin the advance for that on Argus." He pointed at Bradford. "Don't tell the soldiers that, though. Poor Pattie is locked into a bet the next time everyone convenes into the Bar. She thinks she can drink me under the table and I'm about to serve her up some life experience."

Central sighed. "Please don't give the soldiers alcohol poisoning trying to outdrink you, Mordenna."

"Hey. It's her fault for making the bet without all the facts." He took a sip of his beer. "I'll reveal my secret after I'm done showing her up, anyway, just so nobody else gets any bright ideas."

"Fine. But you know how Pattie gets about stuff like that."

Mordenna shrugged. "Sure."

Sighing again, Bradford turned to Fal-Mai. "Thanks for escorting the Commander out to the Skirmisher camp, by the way. She was adamant about getting stuff done despite just coming out of the Infirmary."

"Is that woman overworking herself again?" Mordenna pounded a fist on the counter. "Next time I see her I'm roping her into one of these debates, see how much time she loses to it."

As Bradford moved to speak, Fal-Mai couldn't help but see how uncomfortable the topic was making Jax, who had turned his head away and gave a quiet sigh. Fal-Mai knew Jax blamed himself for it, but how long he'd leave it there for was the question. Seemingly unknowing of Jax's discomfort, Bradford continued. "If you could, that'd be grand. Need someone other than me around here to tie her down before she goes and overworks herself. Poor woman doesn't give herself enough of a break."

Watching Jax become so distant was worrying Fal-Mai. She opened her mouth to ask him if he was alright, but a beeping from Bradford's datapad stopped her. Unclipping it from his belt, he gave it a quick look before dismissing the alarm and putting it back. "Sorry to interrupt, but that's my alarm for the 'DJ's' broadcasts. I try to keep an eye on what he's saying so he doesn't incriminate anyone. Mind if I turn on the radio?"

Mordenna waved him off. "By all means, Bradford. Let's hear what this madman has to say."

Giving a short chuckle, Bradford walked to the radio behind the counter, turning it on. He pressed a button on it, which seemed to auto-tune it to a saved frequency.

"—and to those of you just tuning in; welcome to the broadcast of the resistance, telling you what our fine heroes are up to whenever, wherever." At that, Bradford rolled his eyes. "Now, there's been a fair few rumors floating around about that mysterious Commander who's running XCOM. Based on the disappearance of all the Chosen and the noted reappearance of two of them on XCOM's side, I think it's safe to say that whoever they are, they've got the skills to talk the Chosen into shooting back at their former masters."

There was the sound of a chair groaning, as if he'd leaned back. "Of course, there's some concerns. I mean, these are the freaking Chosen we're talking about. Everybody's talking. Some people are wondering just how the Commander's done it. Chips? Death threats? Coercion? Well, judging by some first-hand accounts of the Commander... maybe it's something else entirely. I mean, we've got those Skirmishers, right? And apparently there's a few other ADVENT forces turning tail and running from ADVENT. Maybe—and hear me out here—maybe the Elders are such douchebags that even the Chosen figured it out. I know what you're thinking—'DJ! That can't be! Did you ever hear the Warlock for like, five seconds?' Well, here's my take—that dude's had twenty years to think over them. Probably wouldn't look too good to the Elders if he started mouthing off about them, right? So he kept his mouth shut—no, even better. He sang their praises 'till the cows came home... those metaphorical cows being XCOM coming to his doorstep. Now, we ain't seen him out and about yet, but I'll bet my equipment that he's on the Avenger with his sibs. Maybe he's listening right now!"

At that, Fal-Mai looked to Jax again. He didn't seem as if he'd entirely recovered from his earlier uncomfortableness—but he looked like he was considering what was being said. Perhaps the DJ's reasoning was more right than he knew.

"Well, listening or not, that's how I see things. Outside of pulling off the fantastic feat of recruiting the Chosen, XCOM's proven to our alien overlords that they can be one step ahead of them. I've got reports from 'Justice Falls' here that XCOM was stationed in anticipation of ADVENT coming in to crash the party—and sure enough, XCOM got the jump on ADVENT this time! I'd say that's good news to end the night on, right? I've been, uh, advised to keep my broadcasts short. Never know who might be listening out there, and sometimes even I don't know what I'm gonna say. So, to cap it off? This is the DJ of the resistance, bidding you all a good night, and remember: Vigilo Confido!"

With that, the broadcast went silent. Bradford had his hands on his hips, still watching the radio as he spoke. "Well, he's at least managing to not leak too much info, though him covering you guys is interesting even for him."

Mordenna, having drank all of his beer, tapped his drink. As Bradford moved to get him another, he talked. "Eh. Something tells me he had to cover it eventually—from what I'm getting, he's one of the biggest mouthpieces of the resistance. People probably got questions about us, and it's not as if they're unwarranted."

Fal-Mai nodded, hands clasped in her lap. It was... interesting, to hear herself be talked about in such an indirect manner. It almost made her wonder... "If the resistance itself is discussing the matter of our allegiance, how fares ADVENT's propaganda machine?"

"Oof, yeah, that's a question." Grabbing his new bottle, Mordenna physically wrenched the cap off of it, taking a swig. "Can only imagine how they're trying to spin us defecting."

"Funny you ask." Bradford jerked a thumb back at the radio. "There's a frequency for their broadcasts, if you feel like listening in."

Mordenna spread out his hands. "Well, why the hell not? I feel like a good laugh. Turn it on, Central."

Walking back to the radio, Bradford hit another button. They seemed to have tuned to the middle of a report. "—and despite recent attacks," the female reporter said, "outreach programs will continue. ADVENT is committed to providing safety to those who need it."

Mordenna scoffed, talking over the radio. "Same shit as usual. Don't know what I was expecting. The 'news reporters' they use are so sanitized. I swear..."

He went on like that, ranting to the three of them. As no doubt interesting as Mordenna's rants were, Fal-Mai was more concerned to listening to the radio underneath him. She hadn't been too much of a listener to the propaganda ADVENT spun—mainly taking interest where she was concerned. A self-centered thinking, she would admit, but there was always a curiosity about what others were saying about her. As Mordenna launched into a slightly related subject, she kept listening.

"... and now, a word from our Speaker."

Fal-Mai quickly shushed Mordenna. He looked half a second away from giving Fal-Mai grief before the familiar voice of Joseph, the Speaker, reached his ears. "Citizens of ADVENT. I am sure it has reached your attention that the Elders' children, the Chosen, are missing. Gone, stolen from Their embrace." The Speaker paused for effect. Out of the corner of her eye, Jax tensed. "The loss of them echoes through all of us. Our dear Saints—Jax-Rai Tessura, Ref-Il Mordenna, and Fal-Mai Neylor, taken from Them. Taken as XCOM intruded upon their own sanctuaries and kidnapped them!"

Though Mordenna rolled his eyes, Jax hadn't relaxed since Joseph started talking. That... was worrying. "Dear citizens, I wish that was the only bad news I had to impart on this day. No, a far worse reality has come to the Elders attention." This must be about the defection, right? He'd probably spin it as "XCOM is forcing them to fight back against ADVENT" or something of the sort. Fal-Mai listened attentively. "Were it mere captivity that they suffered, the tragedy would be great enough. No... they have done something far worse, themselves."

Fal-Mai blinked, thrown off her predictions as the Speaker continued. "Instead of staying resolute in their loyalty to the Elders, the ones who gave them form and life... the Chosen commit the ultimate sin: treachery. They have been seen, fighting in the field for XCOM, striking out as traitors against the loving arms of the Elders! Despite the Elders giving everything to them, raising them and nurturing them, they have decided to follow the path of betrayal. Given everything, they chose the path of Judas! To turn their back on those who would revere them! It pains me greatly that, in part of my duties today... I must inform you that the Chosen are no longer one of our own. They have decided on their path. The Chosen, the Saints we worshipped, are dead. These monsters have taken their place. In the honor of our fallen Saints, memorial services—"

That was when Jax rose out of his chair, arms shaking. "I-I..." He choked out, shaking his head. "I a-appreciate the company, brother, s-sister, but I..." Saying nothing more, he pushed away from the counter, practically stumbling out of the room. Fal-Mai rose to her feet. Clearly the Speaker's address had touched a nerve with him. All the talk of betrayal...

Wordlessly, and with the voice of Joseph droning on behind her, she walked to the door herself. A moment later, and she heard more footsteps behind her. She didn't care who was following her—Jax was most likely looking to isolate himself. Fal-Mai couldn't leave him alone with a good conscience—especially not after what she had confessed to Eliza. She followed the sound of Jax's tread out of the Bar and through the hallways. He'd gotten enough of a lead to be out of sight, but Fal-Mai knew what his step sounded like.

Eventually, and with ghosts of sadness and loss rising up in her mind, she tracked him to a door in one of the hallways, which was closing by the time she got to it. She was at the pad and about to open it when a hand came down on her shoulder. Mordenna was there beside her. "Fals," he said, voice low enough for just her to hear it, "I get what you're trying to do, but..."

Whatever point Mordenna was trying to imply, Fal-Mai didn't get it. She shook her head. "Our brother is in need, Mordenna. I am not about to leave him to his demons."

"Do you know what you're going to do?" Mordenna's look was one of concern and apprehension. "I mean, good on you for wanting to help, but what are you going to do when you're in there? Do you even know what's set him off?"

A stab of being betrayed and told off by a parental figure flashed through her mind. Mordenna must've felt it too, as he cast his eyes to the side. Undeterred, Fal-Mai continued. "I will go in there and comfort him as he needs it. He has isolated himself to suffer alone, and that is not what he needs. I understand if you are hesitant to go in there yourself because you do not have a clear plan as to what you will do. I, however, know that my brother is in need, and I will do what he requires of me. If you would like to help without stepping in, go find his followers. I will be with him, comforting him."

Mordenna's mouth settled into a line, and the hand on her shoulder tensed. He blew a quiet breath out of his nose. "Yeah. I get it. Don't gotta..." He shook his head, hand falling from Fal-Mai. "No. I'll... I'll go get his people. You... you do what you can."

Nodding, Fal-Mai turned back to the panel. Slowly, Mordenna started to walk past her. Unheeding of what he was going to do, Fal-Mai opened the door and stepped inside.

The room she had walked into was definitely a storage room, with crates piled high and a dolley off to the side to cart them out. Stationed on one of the crates, partially obscured by more in the front, was Jax. He was sitting with his knees drawn to his chest, horns discarded and face pressed against his legs. Fal-Mai had never seen her brother in such a state—the closest he had come had been the time near her Ascension Facility. She could see him shaking and feel the psionic storm that was beginning to brew, along with the feeling through the link resonating within her.

She couldn't stand simply sitting there, doing nothing as she watched her brother suffer. Coming over to him, she sat down and cast an arm over him. Jax jumped in place at the contact, and slowly angled his head to look at her, revealing a single, wet eye. Fal-Mai's shoulders slumped in empathy. "Brother... I'm here. I want to help."

Jax simply looked at her for a moment, hiccupping as he stared. Slowly at first, and then lunging, he brought her in and squeezed her, pressing his face into her shoulder. His grip was tight and brought some discomfort, but his ensuing sob dashed any notion of complaining from her mind. She wrapped her arms around him. When he choked out an "I'm sorry" she quickly hushed him. "This is not your fault," she spoke softly, voice low as his sadness affected her, both through the link and her own empathy.

"B-but Joseph—" he hiccupped again, "—Joseph was there. He—he is the o-one who raised me. Wh-why would he—?"

Giving him a squeeze, Fal-Mai shook her head. It was easy for her to say that it was merely there to assuage the citizens... but she could understand how it would hurt him, if what he was saying was true. If the Speaker had been the one to oversee his Ascension, then his words must've stung more than ever. "You know what the Elders have to do in order to save face. It is still terrible, and I... I understand why it hurts." In a way, to be declared dead to them was both vindicating and... sorrowful. "I'm sorry."

It was Jax's turn to shake his head, readjusting his grip on Fal-Mai. "Y-you should not f-feel guilty for... for what..." With a sob and with his voice breaking, Jax trailed off. Guilt echoed in the link.

Focusing on that guilt and knowing why it was there, Fal-Mai went on. "I am here because I want to be, brother. What was done to you—what was done to us is a tragedy. And... and we should not face it alone. Do not feel guilty for my presence." Her grip on him tightened as her own emotions rose. "I want to be your sister. I want to be there when you need me... because it is what good sisters do, yes? You are deserving of having someone there for you. If not Eliza... then I would be happy to take up the flag."

In her grip, Jax gave a shuddering sob. The guilt abated, though his sorrow remained. Fal-Mai knew she could not simply assure that away. Jax needed to go through it. If she was to be a good sister, like she wanted, she'd sit there with him for as long as he needed. Good siblings should stick together, in her mind.

The sound of the door opening pricked her ears and she looked over, ready to shield the both of them from prying eyes if need be. Though the door was partially obscured, it became clear who was there when the door closed and Mordenna stepped into full sight. His eyes seemed to have more bags than usual, and they even looked somewhat rheumy, as if he was on the verge of sorrow, himself. Jax looked up as well, just in time for him to speak. "... I don't suppose there's room for one more here, is there...?"

This time, Jax didn't hesitate in offering an arm to Mordenna, who gladly accepted it, crouching down and joining the sibling huddle. Fal-Mai spared an arm from Jax to include him, and the contact seemed to embolden him into speaking further. "—I'll be clear. I don't really share in being sad about what Joseph said. But... seeing as I'm getting a big hint as to why you're sad about it... I at least want to make an attempt, here. I don't have much to say. It sucks. Least I can do... least I can do is be here so we can all say it sucks, together."

Jax took a deep, shaking breath. "I... I don't c-care if you don't have much to s-say. You—you being here i-is enough."

Mordenna let go of a tense breath, nodding and patting Jax's back. "Then I'll be here, Jax. All of it ain't fair. But... Fal-Mai. You were right. I did some thinking." He brought the two of them closer to him. "Me, walking away, getting someone else... it'd be just what the Elders want, right...? They wanted to separate us. They didn't want us to cooperate. I was just playing to what they wanted if I walked away, right?"

"Brother..." Fal-Mai shook her head. "If you believed you weren't ready—"

"No. I've come to a decision, Fal-Mai. I'm done playing to whatever the hell Odin wanted me to do. You guys are my family. I don't have anyone else. Elders took them away from me." He angled his head up to smile as tears ran down his face. "M-might as well make the best of what I've got now, right?"

The sight of Mordenna in open tears, and hearing him refer to them as a family... Well, Fal-Mai's eyes weren't particularly dry, either. Securing her hold on him, she brought him closer. "... you're right," she whispered, voice raw. "We... we should stick together."

Jax hiccupped again, but Fal-Mai could feel the storm lightening. "I... I never thought I-I would live to—to hear my brother saying that..."

"We live in some strange times," Mordenna softly muttered. "But I mean it. Fuck what they wanted out of us. They said it themselves—the Saints are dead, and honestly, good. We can choose what we want to do, now. No standards. No Elders breathing down our necks. Just us. I know you're still torn up about them, bro, just... you understand?"

Slowly, Jax nodded. "I... I still find myself wondering i-if there was anything I could have done. Something... something to make Them happy."

"They never would've settled," he softly replied. "They held us to standards we'd never meet. I won't go on about them—now's obviously not the time—but just know that your life's your own."

Jax simply took deep breaths for a minute or so. They still shook, he was still sorrowful... but the arrival of his siblings definitely had its effect on him. "You are right, b-brother. I would rather have you here than be a-alone." He raised his head, revealing orange-tinted eyes and fresh tear tracks. "Th-thank you. The both of you. For coming."

Fal-Mai closed her eyes, her own tears falling, leaning against him. "I would not abandon you, brother."

If that gentle thump told her anything, it was that Mordenna had joined her. "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. Maybe literally. No stupid expectations in this household anymore. Just us, picking up the pieces. Sound good?"

She nodded, and she felt Jax bob his head as well. She, too, thought she would never live to see the day they would truly rally as a family. She'd hoped for it, she had hoped that one day they could set aside their differences under the Elders... but she knew that now, it was an impossibility under them. Only now, that they were free and with XCOM did her hopes come true.

They were a family.