A Faded Memory

Tukson snapped to attention as the truck came to a stop and the people began to murmur to themselves. Children were held in place while Tukson moved out and groaned as snow got into his shoes. Ignoring it, he moved to the front of the truck where Adam was climbing out while Sienna was talking to someone on her Scroll in the passenger side.

"Problem?" Tukson asked in a low voice. They'd already avoided two Grimm patrols. A third might send a few of the adults into panic. Never mind the children.

Adam gestured ahead with a hand, pointing to a large wall with an impressive city behind it.

"We made it. What's the problem?"

Adam opened his mouth, but Sienna interrupted, "The military is active," as she jumped out and moved to them, keeping her voice low, the Scroll still in hand and typing away. "We've been listening to the news as soon as we were in range to pick up the locals over here. They've been dealing with a large Grimm. Some crazy type that can burrow underground. Seismic readings say it's still in the area."

Tukson worked his jaw and brain. They had a lot of people to move. Moving them all on foot in a few inches of virgin snow was not an option they'd be thrilled about. He didn't like it. They wouldn't either. Tack on a large Grimm and you might as well just sign the death certificate now and get it over with.

Nickel stepped up to them, a curious look in his tired eyes.

The last four days had not seen him well. He mumbled to himself, projecting an aura of isolation with his incoherent mutterings, worrying the people he was near. Most didn't pay attention, but what few did spoke to Sienna and asked about his health.

When he slept, he was darker. His mutterings became clearer. He was always on about a storm and a strange ideology. After the first day, Sienna had put him up front to keep him away from the citizens when they made enough of a fuss about it.

This morning had been the tipping point to Sienna. It couldn't be ignored any longer. Something was wrong with him, but this was neither the time or place for it. On their way back, she'd speak to him. Sit him down and tell him straight. He needed help or this would be the end of him.

"How bad is it?" Nickel asked, his voice weighed with only a small semblance of his former self.

Adam put his hand on the hilt of his sword, stroking it gently as Sienna got ready to lecture him. This would have been a chance for her, but Adam was playing peacekeeper right now to keep her words quiet and desires chained. They needed to show unity. Nickel could wait.

"We don't know," Tukson interjected before either of his seniors could say anything. "Some large Grimm might be in the area. Military has been deployed and chances are, they aren't gonna take us in without a serious problem knocking at their door."

"They're still taking in refugees," Sienna corrected him. She returned to her Scroll, flipping through news outlets, allowing them to catch snippets of someone speaking before she turned the volume down and lowered it. "We're not that far from Argus. It's about another ten minutes, but according to a source, they put mines around the main road."

"So we have a pair walk in front of the trucks?" Nickel asked nonchalantly. Tukson snickered, actually cracking a grin at the prospect of such a stupid idea. Adam and Sienna wondered if this was another story for another time with him. He spoke as though he were discussing the weather in an even and carefree tone.

"While that is an option," Adam began slowly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "Let's just wait for a message from the military down there. Ghira already called ahead. That's how we found out about the mines."

Tukson snorted and looked down the hill they stood upon with a curious eye. "They sending us a map or disabling them?"

Sienna shrugged. "No clue. They're supposed to get back in touch with me once they have a way to get us to them. Be that air or land."

"So, we just wait?"

Sienna and Adam nodded, though it was clear neither liked this idea. "I'll let the people know." Tukson turned on his heels and walked to the back to give the news.

Nickel sniffed the air a few times before narrowing his eyes on something. Adam made ready for a fight. He'd seen that look too many times during their first outing together. Danger was near.

Sienna turned sharply to find what Nickel had sniffed out, but saw nothing. She had better hearing and she couldn't hear anything. There was nothing out there.

Nickel calmed and stepped up beside Adam, his eyes darting further down the hill for a long moment before pointing at something. "Movement," he whispered to the two. Sienna shut her eyes and listened while Adam adjusted his mask and looked for the movement. Neither detected whatever it was he saw.

Adam released his grip on the sword, patting Nickel on the shoulder as his fellow Faunus continued to stare. "I don't think there is anything down there." Adam stayed beside him and simply enjoyed the view.

Sienna returned to the truck and threw the news on. They were making a report about something going on in Atlas and some riots that were happening in Vale. It was another report of Faunus being oppressed and finally standing up. Violence was used, but it was uncoordinated and messy. Three people were killed and five Faunus were arrested. If they had done better planning, they might not have gotten caught, as they had targeted a Dust Store.

Sighing, she leaned back against the chair, putting on a station and waiting for the call she knew might take hours.

(-)

Nickel felt a cold snap run across his form, forcing a shiver to quake through him. Some part of his mind acknowledged it with ease, accepting the reality of the world around him. Virgin snow was on the ground from another heavy snow storm the night before with a cold wind that cut straight to the bone with the single digit temperature outside. How could one not shiver from such a thing?

The other part of his mind, the one that rejected this, looked to the simple action with foreign disgust. It was an anomaly, a bug beneath his boot, something not to be concerned with. How could the cold hope to cause such a random act to course through his body?

Nickel understood some part of him was changing, unaccepting the other part of him. He noticed, but found he could not muster enough strength to care about them. The world had grown colder, not in the physical sense, but in the way he saw it. It was unforgiving, cold and full of malice. The normal comforts he once dreamed of having were gone from his mind, replaced with cold truths and bitter thoughts, all the while feeling unfamiliar eyes on his form.

It started when they left. The cold gaze of another, familiar, yet not, lingering on his form, leaving him curious and wanting. Not for a desire to understand it, but end it. The part of his mind that so hungrily sought to despise and repel these unwanted feelings and thoughts clashed with the naivete of his mind. At times he could almost make out the gaze that rested so heavily on him, along with the faint whispers of a voice carried by the wind.

This started two days ago. What sleep he got was not true rest. His mind would race from one thought to another in frantic haste as the demons of his past began to enclose around him. He could feel their sharp tendrils piercing his skin, crawling across his bones, all the while showing him failures of his youth. Every life lost. Every battle, undone by defeat.

He did not know how to reach out. Social awkwardness kept him at arms length from others in the fear that this was normal. His father never once showed these signs. Had he dealt with his haunts in a similar fashion? Nickel did not know. The part of him that might have cared was no longer present at times. During those moments he felt like a puppet being controlled by another, leaving him as nothing more than a passenger to a moving vehicle. No control. No voice. No direction.

"You doing okay?"

Nickel was ripped away from his thoughts, the rational side of his mind coming to the forefront at the sound of Adam's voice and the concern that was laced within it. He nodded mutely, weighing his words and trying to figure out what he was asking.

"You've been quieter than normal," Adam pressed, turning just enough to offer a concerned tilt of his head. "I'm just worried because you burned down your old home. You never told me why you did that."

The Gunslinger withdrew a knife, his eyes closed as he started tossing it in the air and catching it by the tip of the blade, while he processed that information. "I'm fined," he answered, sounding perfectly rehearsed to Adam. "I destroyed the house because I need to move on. It was holding me back."

"Why not the entire village?"

Nickel caught the blade, his eyes slowly opening and examining the weapon with a keen eye. Not once had he examined the weapons he had been gifted and suddenly he found the red tint of the blade alluring. It was not as deep as Adam's blade, nor was it as elegant, but it held a unique design that, to Nickel, was far above Adam's blade.

"Nickel?" The long pause became awkward and left a sour taste in Adam's mouth.

Running a thumb of the red blade, Nickel shut his eyes and felt the smooth surface of the knife. The smoothness was new to him. Their smith had never been this good. A difference in tools, no doubt.

"Burn the bridges behind me. Give me nothing to return to. No going back."

"But why not the village."

Yes, Nickel thought, why did I not burn it down either.

Minute as it was, Nickel had put some time and thought into his actions, trying to rationalize what was done and not down. Had he not burned down his home as a way of proving he was setloose from the chains that bound him so? It was the whole reason he burned it down. A way of freeing himself from his past and allowing him a chance to move forward as what he needed to be: A storm.

Yet, he had not burned down the village. It was his home. He was the last survivor there. It gave him a right to do with as he saw fit. So why not burn it down? Had he grown a heart during those few moments or was it the softer side of him that still lingered in the back of his mind, wanting things to return to the way they had been instead of accepting the reality of the world he now resided in.

Perhaps it was simpler than any of that. He had simply forgotten in his self pity to his own actions. Burning down his house bore no fruit to him. It was not done as some act of aggression or revolt in the way a child goes against their parents. It was done with the clear intentions of never coming back. He would never return to the village, so why not burn it down?

Adam placed a hand on Nickel's shoulder, pulling him from his inner thoughts and asked, "Are you okay?" Nickel nodded after a moment of hesitation, his eyes unfocused as he returned to his thoughts for another brief second. "If you need to talk…"

"I'm fine." Nickel put his knife away and turned back to the truck, leaving no room for debate on his mental health.

(-)

Word came hours later that safe passage would be granted. The mines were disabled for a short window. Long enough for them to make it down the hill and to the city gates where armed guards stood watch for any terrors that might make a move.

Sienna saw to their safe passage to welcoming homes and family members. While most were overjoyed to see lost loved ones, some did not have such luxury. The city leaders worked tirelessly to make sure things were set up for those that had nothing. As the leader of the group, the task for their safety fell to Sienna as she spoke with the leader, a Human, to make sure they would be welcomed without bias. Atlas was, and had been for years, a starch symbol of hatred for Faunus. This leader might be Human, but he was offering deals that not many other leaders had offered to them. A man of the people, or so the citizens claimed. Sienna had her doubts, but she was under orders to not argue.

Sienna had given her three companions orders to relax. Adam had disappeared with Nickel, keeping an eye on him as he continued to show signs of barely contained mental anguish. Tukson, either by ignorance to Nickel's mental state or believing in the strength of Adam's words, moved to the guardians to relax in the manicured beauty of Argus's true creation.

Alone, Sienna returned to one of the only places in the city she had ever truly felt safe: A cafe shop called Cafe Rio. It gave her time to think on several things she had not thought about in years.

She gave her order to the barista and waited for her drink. They would have a long trip back home.

When her order came, she found her spot by the window and watch the civilians walk

The mind, Sienna realized, watching families cross the busy street with smiling faces, hand in hand with children and lovers, chatting joyfully about their life accomplishments, as her coffee fogged up the window she sat in front of, is a powerful, amazing and sadistic organ.

She had been to Argus multiple times in her life. It was a frequent spot visited by the White Fang with peaceful protests and gatherings to let the Faunus voice be heard. Ghira would spearhead the event and she would be in charge of his security during these little gatherings. Each time she came here she made sure to visit the cafe' and watch the outside world through a darkened window. Each time she watched a little more of the shops and the people would change.

There was a famous film director who once said, "There are three sides to every story: your side, my side and the truth." And the sad truth is that he is right. He might not have coined the medical term, but he was given credit for the most basic of definitions of the illness: Mandela Effect.

Mandela Effect, to put it simply, was when your mind began the slow process of deterioration or creation of pseudomemories. For instance: the famous story of Galaxy Wars where Darth Vade held out his hand to his son and proclaimed, "I am your father!" much to the shock of the crowd. However, many people believe that the actual line spoken was, "No, Luke! I am your father!" This is not the case and a general misconception.

Sienna knew that across the road was another diner, one she had spoken out against for their mistreatment of Faunus. The building had been named Ollie's Diner and refused to sit Faunus. Yes, it was discrimination because they forced Faunus to work for them and paid them low wages. Was it still the same? Most likely. Did they really solve the problem? No.

Ollie's Diner had garnered a public image after a human fell for one of the Faunus cleaners. They came out together, hand in hand and became a driving force where the White Fang's voice had not been heard. A human striking out with a Faunus was not unheard of, but it undermined their movement in Sienna's eyes. After two years of fighting in a legal battle against the owner, Ollie's Diner finally had no choice but to open its doors to Faunus, allowing them to both sit and eat for the same price that humans would pay.

Ollie's Diner still stood. It still had the fat pig with brand name burned into its side. The stone work had been remodeled to a dingy brown. The windows were now darker and sporting curtains that came down half the length of the windows, blocking out the view to the public, say for a pair of rich oak doors that were swung open wide with a velvet carpet leading from the sidewalk to the warm embrace of the building where a friendly human waited diligently for customers. A family of four was sitting just barely in view, two small children kicking their feet happily as they munched on some sort of greasy delicacy she could not see.

It was the perfect picture for a warm and welcomed environment.

Now for the truth, or rather, the Mandela Effect that most people so casually forget.

Yes. The hard battle against a corrupt owner had been won. Faunus were allowed to eat at the restaurant. Sit down and eat the same food at the same price that other humans paid. All was well to the public. No one would look further than surface level. This was unity. Humans and Faunus eating together in a place where a cord was struck.

But it was a lie.

Truth of the matter was that the human who struck out against the company and walked out hand-in-hand with a Faunus, was actually another Faunus. They did get together. They did get married. They did win the battle. But not the war.

Was it truly a Mandela Effect? Probably not. A cover up was probably a better answer, but hundreds of people believed in a lie that was told by the media, making the world believe that some unity had been found at a small diner in the middle of Argus.

Despite this one little hiccup for mans' memory, Sienna wondered how many pseudomemories she carried. She dared not believe that her most cherished memory was one to suffer under such a diagnosis.

She could still recall the memory as though it were yesterday.

It was late August ten years ago she had been on the beach with her mother and two brothers. They were enjoying the warm ocean-laced air and the sand between their toes. It was her first time at a beach, probably why it clung so tightly in her mind.

She was wearing a one piece bathing suit while her brothers wore swim trunks. Her mother, a woman who radiatated true beauty, wore a revealing two-piece to attract the eyes of younger men after her late husband died. Sienna had never known how he died, only that he had died. Too young to remember him. A face with a name was all she had. No voice or fond memories to grab hold of. Just a photo and a name.

While her mother sunbathed and her two brothers busied themselves with the girls of the beach, Sienna sat down in the sand, building a castle with an older girl, Kali. They're humble beginnings.

On this day Sienna became friends with Kali and began their journey together. They were inseparable. Many nights they shared under a moonlit night, gazing longeling towards the stars, wondering what was up there. Dreams were shared. Boys were the topic of choice during nights together. She spoke out against her marriage to Ghira, claiming that he wasn't good enough for her. Kali never resented her for that, but was hurt nonetheless.

It wasn't the future events that stuck in her mind. Not the sand between her toes or the warm ocean air. No. It was none of those things that clung to her so tightly. Her late brother had played a prank on her to win favor with another girl. Yes, she was petty and still held a grudge against him. He won favor, got the girl by way of his prank, and made off with her in the night to indulge his intimate desires with her. It was the last time she ever saw him.

The memory held more than just that simple bad time in her life. Her mother had indulged in drugs and alcohol to numb the pain she felt. On truly bad days she would curl deeper into the substance of choice for the day, becoming incoherent and rambling on about something and pushing those that tried to help her away. By the end of the year, Sienna's second brother passed, though they found his body and her mother had fallen completely.

Many nights were spent looking back at that day when her late brother pranked her, searching for some tell-tell sign of things to come, some shadow to the future of their lives. She never found it. The many nights she spent thinking about those days were always the hardest for her, leading her down thoughts best left alone.

Sienna never resorted to a bottle or a needle. Her poison was unwanted intimacy. Foolishly stupid and she knew it, she couldn't escape what made her connected to her mother. Though there was a clear difference. Her mother had been lonely without the warm embrace of another man to hold her in her bed. Losing her two sons had caused her to blame herself and sink into depression while poisonous thoughts of "What ifs" whispered lies and false hope in her ears. Sienna's poison was about a need to forget, not experience something new, making her no different than her mother.

She grabbed the paper cup and took a small sip of the warm liquid, letting it hit the back of her throat and pull her from the deep dark pits of her mind. Though her eyes were tightly shut, a thousand miles away from the beach she remembered so fondly, she could still see her mother lying on the towel, a pair of sunglasses covering her dark chocolate eyes, and her two brothers putting the moves on the women that laughed and humered their antics while she sat in the sand building her small castle with her Kali.

The past was more than just a case of pseudomemories and a plethora of bad and good memories. It was knowledge. Life lessons learned through hardship and failure and success.

Nickel was in danger. That much she knew. Though they were now safely at Argus, fulfilling their duty, they still had a long trip back and Nickel had begun the slow descent into darkness. It should not fall on her shoulder to pull him from this life choice he was making, but it did. It landed squarely on her shoulders. She trusted Adam when he spoke up about him. She took his word when he said to let him join. She watched people rejoice with his heroics. All of that had reached Ghira's ears and he gave praise where it was due.

Nickel was changing, heading down a path that the White Fang could not follow. Because she spoke to Ghira about him, telling him of his heroic deeds when Kali mentioned them, Nickel became her responsibility. So any actions he took that would harm the cause fell to her.

Sienna was too young to save her mother and siblings. While she doubted nothing could have saved them, her time spent watching her mothers' rapid descent into darkness might pull him from his fall. She only hoped that she was face enough and that her words might reach him.