Episode 17: Salvage Yard; Or, What Ever Happened to the Ghost in the Machine?
She remembered—remembered where she had felt that light before.
It had been in blips and flashes, but she had seen it lying on the floor of the arcade, battling for consciousness. She had been electrocuted—to what she was sure now had been nearly to death—but that light had brought her back. And as she lifted the blood-soaked canvas bag, she checked the wound with a pounding heart and only found a small divot. She...she did that?
Wellspring Revival; an attack she didn't even know she had. She had that kind of power? It must have had a pretty big trade-off. She almost felt like she was going to sink into the floor, her knees were so wobbly.
It was then that she realized she was here. In uniform. In front of her mother.
So she got up, ran around the corner, and ran back. She felt stupid doing it, but the way that her mother's confused gaze resolved once her eyes found her reassured her. "There you are," her mother said. "What's happening? It went dark, and then I saw—my shoulder, dear, I think I've injured it."
Narma took a breath. Coherent; much better. For a minute there, she had thought...she didn't want to think about it anymore. "Some lunatics tried to shoot up the station," she kneeled down, her mother hissing as she lifted her arm over her shoulder. "I just went to get help, and they say an ambulance is on the way. Are you okay?"
"Y...yes," her mother said slowly. "I must have blacked out for a moment; it was all flashes."
She took a breath. "Don't worry. We'll get you checked out. I think something did hit you—you're bleeding."
Her mother inhaled sharply. She scoffed, then grunted painfully as Narma lifted her to stand. "You can't even go outside anymore, and there's crazy people! This city."
Narma sighed, pounding heart finally starting to calm. "I know, mom. I know."
The cops were scrambling trying to clear up whatever had just happened. Sylvia, Mallory, and she were forced to sit and wait while things were cleaned up without any information.
Eventually, though, the cops came back. The guy sighed hard and leaned against the doorway. Outside, Gwen could see paramedics coming in and out.
"...we're not going to worry about the, ugh, the 'break-in.'" He sighed. "You have a witness with authorization to that building corroborating your story, and as far as we can tell, you didn't do any damage to the equipment in the labs."
"Yeah," Mallory interjected. "We basically just hung out in the basement."
The guy's eyes said 'watch it.' "But," he said sharply, and Gwen's stomach sunk as he turned to them, "There is something else that I need to talk to you girls about." He brought up a printout that had been clutched in his fist until that moment, showing them. They were finished—it was the missing article that had been up in the local news once they left. "We came across this in our reports. Care to explain?"
She made it as simple as she could. She said they had ran away to see what it was like living on their own, and that they fully intended to return to their parents. She said that they had lied about their ages in order to get somewhere to stay, but she kept the owner of the flower shop out of it. No reason to get anyone else in trouble. She told him they were feeling confined, and wanted to have an adventure for their summer vacation.
It was banal, and it wasn't a very good lie besides, but by the end the cop just sighed heavily. "I'm guessing the number that you gave us before was a fake, then."
"Yeah," she admitted. No reason to make up another lie to cover up something inconsequential.
The officer leaned on his knees. "You've caused your parents a lot of grief, you know? They've been worried sick."
"I know." She swallowed, not regretting having come here, but knowing it was going to be hell once her parents got there. Mallory watched her from the side, Sylvia seemingly trying her best to disassociate from the tense situation.
The guy stood up. "We called them a few minutes ago. Apparently, they were already in the city, so they're going to be here in about twenty minutes."
Gwen's brows furrowed. They're here in Seattle? What are they doing here? She couldn't imagine what business they might have had in the city to bring them all the way from Phoenix, unless they had somehow figured them out.
Now, though, all they could do was wait.
Seeing as they had nowhere to go, they let them come out of the interview room to join their team mates outside. Mallory moved to sit with Rory and Carmen, Gwen lingering behind as Sylvia paced about with agitation. "Hey," Mallory said, leaning towards the others. "Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah," Carmen sighed, and Rory nodded slowly. Gwen lowered herself to the bench—she knew that, on some level, she was still a sort of outsider to the group, and she didn't want to step on these guy's toes while they were having a moment.
Mallory wrinkled her brow. "What happened?"
Rory dragged her hands over her face. "Apparently," she said, sounding exasperated, "these guys busted some big gang meet-up last night, and some of their folks showed up trying to break out their leader. They still have most of the guys, but the leader got away."
Gwen whistled. "Damn. This city just never stops, does it?"
Rory groaned.
They were more than a little surprised when Narma walked out of the back hallway with her mother in tow—more so because the woman's sari was coated in blood.
"Holy shit," Mallory said, standing. "What happened?"
Narma looked exhausted. She indicated her mother's place under her arm. "She got grazed when those creeps mowed down the building. Oof, right over here."
They watched, gaping as she led her mother over to one of the paramedics, who jumped up to help her as soon as they saw the state of her. A graze? That's s lot of blood for a graze! Still, Narma didn't appear worried, so she didn't know what to think. They sat back down, stunned, and waited. Narma didn't offer anything more as they waited for the adults to show.
Narma leaned over, though, hissing under her breath. "So what the heck happened in the basement?"
Mallory said, "Giant time machine fueled by the Treasure Box. It had summoned a lot of monsters into the city that killed some people. We managed to stop that from happening, and it re-wrote time. Do you remember any of that?"
Narma's eyes bulged from her skull. "Whoa, what? No! When was this?!"
Mallory sat back, waving a hand. "So no, then. It doesn't matter—it never happened here. Hm. Wonder why we remember, and you guys don't? Maybe because of how close we were to the machine..."
Narma rubbed her chin. "So that's why they attacked Celene and stole the box?"
Gwen's jaw dropped. "That still happened?"
Rory sat back up, staring back at them wearily. "Yeah? That's so weird. No, but the nurse says it's going to be a couple more days before Celene is ready to come home."
Gwen blew out a breath. That raised so many more questions than it answered. "Man."
Rory furrowed her brow. "Wait, then what happened to the person who did it?"
Mallory shrugged, just a little bump of her shoulders. "We don't know. I'm sorry."
"Gwen?"
Her eyebrows shot up as the familiar voice called across the room. Gwen turned, and she froze to see who was standing in the doorway: her mom, her dad not far behind, peering around with a measure of horror at the shattered front windows. But the greater part of their attention was on her.
Gwen stood up, already calculating how to even start doing damage control. "Mom?"
They stormed over, her mother grabbing her up in a hug. She pulled away after a few seconds, looking around frantically. "Where is your sister?"
As her dad planted an open palm on Gwen's shoulder, her mom caught sight of Sylvia, standing stiffly a few feet behind her. She descended upon her, pulling her in whilst their new friends watched on in states of awkwardness and confusion. "Emily. Oh, thank God. Where have you girls been? We've been worried sick! We thought you were dead, or—"
Their dad spoke up, taking a step back to get a look at them both. "What happened?"
"Sorry, Glen." Gwen took a step back as Sylvia hugged their dad around the shoulders, voice flat. "I remembered that thing that happened at the hotel when we were kids—"
Gwen looked at her with wide eyes. What was she doing? This wasn't what they had discussed. They were supposed to take on the blame equally, but Sylvia was phrasing it as though it had been her idea.
Their mother let out an exasperated sigh, seeming to see where this way going already. "Seriously? God, I nearly forget about that old story."
Sylvia shrugged, continuing. "And we wanted to see what was happening in the city. It was a big coincidence."
Gwen took that as her cue to jump in. Like hell she was going to let her sister take the full brunt of their parent's ire. "Yeah, but we knew you wouldn't let us come out here."
Sylvia eyed her, but nodded. Seemed she was going to go with it. "We got kind of caught up, started thinking about the whole thing like a summer adventure...but it turned out to be a bust."
Gwen put on her best guilty smile, turning out to both of them. "We knew you were going to be mad when we came back. Sorry."
Even as she tried her best to come up with a story her parents wouldn't be too mad at, she knew it wasn't enough. She had been avoiding thinking about it for so long, but now that she was face to face with their utterly exhausted expressions, she understood the gravity of their absence. While they'd been meandering about Seattle, their parents had been kept up at night, wondering where they were. What might have happened to them. Wow. Her stomach sunk. It's going to take a while to make up for this, isn't it?
And still.
She glanced back to Mallory; the other girls. Despite everything, she was still going to have to leave them behind.
Her mom's frown crumpled, and she brought her into another quick hug. "I'm just happy that you're safe," she said. Then she narrowed her eyes. "But you're grounded forever."
One arm around Sylvia, who seemed to be tolerating it as well as she could, their father dragged a palm down his face. He groaned, "Ugh, if you girls could have just waited a few more days..."
Gwen's brows furrowed. "Wait, why?"
Their mother eyed her and Sylvia, expression wry, "We'd forgotten all about the motel story, but we were going to tell you—your father got a job transfer. We needed to move."
Gwen blinked, glancing over to Sylvia, who stared back, equality wide-eyed. Where did this come from? "Wait, since when?"
Her mother's frown deepened. "He's been working in Seattle for two months now."
/
Once the initial shock had worn off, their parents took a few extra moments to sort things out with the police, so she had another chance to talk to the girls.
Mallory approached her immediately, having heard the whole thing. "So. You guys are going to get to stay?"
Gwen snorted, shoving her hands in her pockets. She shook her head, disbelieving she'd managed to come out of this so cleanly. "Seems like it."
Mallory side-eyed her from behind her glasses. Maybe it was something in the way she held her folded arms to her chest, but there was something almost sheepish in her stance. That was a little silly. If anything was going to scare her off, she had to have known it would have come long before this. She said, "That's a pretty big coincidence."
It really couldn't have worked out better, which was a bit scary. "Maybe I had one more big luck draw than I had accounted for. I just didn't know it yet." She turned to look at her more directly. "They say we're going to start at Garfield in a few weeks."
Mallory brought her nails up to examine, which was totally casual and not at all something she had obviously seen in a movie or something. "Well, it'll be nice to keep you around for a little longer. You know. continue your training." She glanced back, and something in her eyes told her enough. I'm glad you get to stay.
Gwen nodded pensively. "Can't let ourselves slack off." Me too.
"Oh, just make out already."
"Sylvia!" Face burning, she turned back to where her sister's monotone comment had originated.
Sylvia shrugged, totally unapologetic. One of the other girls laughed, but she didn't catch who.
When she turned back, Mallory was clearing her throat, looking sincerely less cool. She couldn't quite hide the hint of a smile against her fist. "Seems like you might be locked in for a while, though," she murmured, indicating back to her parents.
But Sylvia waved a hand nearby. "Eh, give me a day. I should be able to talk them around."
The following evening came, and Narma leaned back against the back of the storefront she had last visited on her date with Manuel. After seeing the way that her keeping secrets had nearly cost her mother's life, she had been thinking a lot. As much as she hated it, she knew that secret, the one from her parents, was one that she still had to keep: if she told them she had been putting herself in danger to defend the city, she was positive that they would never let her out of the house again. Guiltily, she couldn't blame them. If she had a daughter who was doing the same, she would probably react in the same way. Shit, sometimes she couldn't believe she was doing the kind of shit she was doing.
Even so, it had got her to thinking: if she could minimize some of the lies she had to tell, wouldn't that be for the better? She certainly had reasons for keeping things the way they were, but they weren't the only reasons she had. Weren't there just as many good reasons for doing the opposite? So she had made a decision.
She watched the folks meander about the pier, curling into her faux leather jacket. She couldn't help but feel as though the extra cover might have subconsciously been one last plea for herself to reconsider. She had never been more in conflict about something than she was right then.
But then she saw the mess of Manuel's curls appear in the masses, and he turned his eyes on her, and it was too late.
His eyes were guarded, deep and unsure as he spotted her, and he maneuvered through the crowd with purpose. His height, something that had only made her feel safe before, now made her feel young and foolish by comparison. She didn't uncurl as he reached her. "Narma. I would almost think you didn't want me to find you."
She glanced away. "...thank you. For coming."
He frowned. "I'm hoping there was a good reason you asked me to meet you all the way out here." He paused, glancing around to the places where small signs indicated some still on-going construction. "...other than for nostalgia's sake."
"There is," she said quickly, watching his eyebrows rise at her rapid response. "I mean." She swallowed.
He watched her. He didn't say anything. She took a breath. Guess I'm not getting out of this easily. Finally, she asked, "Are you still interested in being with me? If...the things that were discussed before. If they weren't a problem."
He shifted. "...I suppose that depends. Honestly, Narma, it's been ruminating for a while."
"Because I still like you," she cut in suddenly. "I know we didn't go out that many times—not on just dates, I mean. But I really want to get to know you." She bit her lip. "I feel like I'm going to regret it if I don't."
Manuel frowned at her. Her heart felt like lead, sure she had made a fool of herself. Then his frown slipped, his eyes softening. "I like you too. I didn't want to shut you out like that, it's just...it felt like a red flag, having lies between us so early."
Narma could practically feel her face darken. "...come with me for a second," she said, heading into the alleyway.
She stopped a little ways in, until she was sure she wouldn't be overheard by any passersby.
Manuel followed cautiously behind, eyeing her. "...Narma, what is this?"
She pursed her lips, and then looked up to him, grabbing his hands. He gave a surprised little noise, but she didn't waiver. "...do you promise, what I'm about to say never leaves this alley?"
In the darkness, his eyes sparked with a sudden curiosity. "Okay," he said.
A shaky breath escaped her. "Then there's something...I need to tell you."
Mallory folded her hands on the table, the voices of café-going patrons filling the air around them. She was here with a sense of resignation, and even though she had suggested it in the first place, it felt surreal, like she had just stepped into a role in a movie or something and nobody gave her the script. "So," she said. "How do we do this?"
Gwen grinned at her from across the table. Mallory reddened under the critique of her raised brow. "You're asking me? You're the one who asked me out in the first place!"
Mallory coughed under her breath. "That. That is true. I just...with all of my professional endeavors, I haven't exactly had many chances to do this kind of thing."
Gwen nodded, her eyes narrowed, and Mallory didn't even have to deduce she was teasing her. "Oh, of course, of course." She leaned back. "So you're assuming I have?"
Mallory scoffed. "Uh, yes, obviously." No way that someone who looked like Gwen hadn't dated like, a hundred people. That was...a lot, right? Not that she thought she was, like, easy or anything! Ugh, if she could refrain from voicing any of this, please, that would be great.
Gwen smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Change the subject, change the subject. Interests, right? "So. When did you first start learning to kick everyone's ass at everything?"
Gwen laughed.
Mallory, not necessarily having meant it as a joke, smiled uneasily. She cleared her throat, continuing, confidence somewhat improved. "I mean, what—archery, fencing, crime scene investigation—there's got to be a limit at some point, come on. Leave some skills for the rest of us."
Mallory felt in her heart that this was the beginning of...something, at least.
Carmen stepped into her father's office, clenching her hands in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward. "Dad? Can I...speak to you for a moment?"
He was hunched over his desk, surrounded by papers. Half of them, she knew, were thank you letters to the guests who had attended the last event, which had gone well until a black-out had left their guests in the dark, and early. While that was something she couldn't have possibly predicted, she couldn't help but think that he held her somewhat accountable. He didn't look up as he replied, "Of course, dearest," a sigh in his voice. "Come in."
As quietly as possible, she closed the door behind her. She stayed just inside the entrance, instinct asking her to leave a quick exit open to herself.
The end of summer was fast approaching, and Carmen couldn't help but feel as though the season had been a sort of transitionary state. They gained new allies; defeated a new threat, although they had seemingly done so in a different reality. More than anything, her brief conversations with Sylvia had prompted her to question herself more frankly than she had ever done. She knew there were things she needed to address, and most of them with the man on the other side of the desk.
With summer drawing to a close, she had a lingering anxiety that if she didn't address them now, she was just going to let the opportunity slip by her, yet again.
She took a breath, folding her hands in front of herself. Where did she even start here? "I wanted to talk about...my future."
Her father looked up. Slowly, he lowered his pen. "Yes? What is it?"
Now or never. "I know you've been sort of thinking I was going to take over the company. I...just don't think the company is right for me."
He frowned, narrowing his eyes. "What brought this on?"
"I...I'm just not passionate about the company the way that you are. I know there are tons of folks in the company who would love to have the position...I know those boys are always talking about it." She tried not to let the bitterness show in her voice—even though she wasn't interested in them, there was still some hurt in knowing someone was getting to know you merely for the advantages you might bring—but that wasn't important right now. Right now, she just never wanted to agonize over this again.
A look of understanding dawned over his face. "'Those boys,' she says. Is that what this is about? You're not getting on well with the young men that have been coming to our events?"
"They're fine," she said stiffly. "I'm just...not interested in them. But that's not why I'm saying this!"
But her father was nodding. "No, no, I understand."
She lowered her hand where she'd unconsciously brought it up, wondering what he was going to say.
"Those young men are quite single-minded. All they think about is their influence." She narrowed her eyes as he waved a hand. "They haven't had time to learn. I ask you to be patient with them—they will learn. If not, there will be other young men moving in the company's periphery. It's no reason to give up on the company entirely. There will be other opportunities."
Carmen inhaled sharply, her hackles rising. Ugh, this was exactly what she had worried about. "That's not it! And it's not them—" her heart pounded, and dread forced her eyes away from her father's face, scared to see his reaction. "—honestly, I don't want to date anyone at all!" She had to make him understand. "The company is simply not something I'm interested in. I'm sorry, I know you thought I would be, but it's not something I want."
Slowly, forcing her gaze back to his desk, she saw him tapping his pen on the table. His expression was unreadable, and she chewed her lip as she waited for his response.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. He let out a small exhalation of a laugh, just a soft heh, before shaking his head.
"Ah," he said, "to be young. I know this is a very confusing time in your life, and there are many things you don't yet understand. You'll be fine." Unsure, she watched as he picked back up the document he'd been working on, beginning to write. "Give it time. You'll understand what's important when you're older."
There was a nauseating moment where she wasn't quite sure what had happened, but once she realized he had returned his attention solely on his work, a cold feeling swept through her.
He...wasn't even considering it. He was just...brushing her off.
Carmen swallowed. She pursed her lips. "Thank you," she said shortly, before turning and leaving the room.
She closed the door, her hand trembling on the knob.
She inhaled, exhaled. Then, she left the office behind.
Fine. He wasn't going to take her seriously.
Then she would just have to do it herself.
Sylvia blew a kazoo as instructed as Rory entered the park area with Celene in her arms. Everybody cheered, and she could see Celene sit up slightly as she took in all of her charges staring back at her from the table. The cat blinked at them. "What—what's this?"
There was a little banner hanging from a tree above the table that read Welcome Back, Celene! Luckily, it seemed to be an innocuous enough statement that no one had noticed yet that they were all talking to a cat. At least the other humans in the park didn't seem to hear her. How did that work? Was it some sort of telepathy, or were their brains just doing extra work to interpret her meows, or what? Weird.
Narma winced. "We figured we owed you an apology," she said. "For not watching the box more carefully, and for—"
Sylvia blinked curiously as she saw her flick her gaze conspicuously up to Rory. Hm. She wondered what that was about.
Narma coughed. "—other things. So, we decided to throw you a little welcome-back party."
"Sorry," the girls chimed simultaneously. "Celene was right, and we were wrong."
"Oh!" The cat blinked big orange eyes at them looking around. Still weird that she could talk, but not the weirdest thing that had happened. "Well," she said, sounding a bit taken aback, "you needn't have done all this, but I do appreciate the gesture. This is very sweet, thank you."
Rory maneuvered around to their side, setting Celene delicately on the table and gesturing to the confections there. "We even got you a little cake," Rory chirped excitedly. "We didn't know if you could eat actual sweets, so we made you a little kitty cake too."
"Oh." Sylvia could practically see the anime sweat drop on her face. "Thanks. That's very...thoughtful!"
They sat around chatting, atmosphere host to some surprisingly good vibes considering they were subject to a shooting merely two days before, and had nearly been destroyed by monsters daily for months before that. She was fine with going for it, though she couldn't exactly understand how they could so easily move on. All her thoughts were circulating around what might have happened if things had gone differently (and they had.) There was a world somewhere where she had disappeared, where she had never gotten to the point of being here at all.
But she peered to the spots beside her, and Gwen glanced to her every few minutes, and she knew she was checking to see if she was there. Mallory and the other girls were further down the way and they seemed satisfied with the way things had worked out as well. Maybe it was better to just let it be, then—just be grateful that she had been the Sylvia that ended up in this universe, and not in that one.
She pulled the Treasure Box from her bag; she was returning it to Rory after the girl realized she still had it. She turned to Celene, who was amusedly taking bites of the real and the cat cake alternatingly. She tapped a finger on the golden surface. "So what are we going to do with this thing, now that we know that stealing it is a thing that some people do, in fact, want to do?"
Celene sat back, tilting her head at the artifact consideringly. "I think it would be smart to hide the Cosmos Treasure Box somewhere less conspicuous. Obviously, whatever's inside could be of great importance to host such power; merely stowing it somewhere in one of your homes might not be the best choice."
Sylvia hummed, examining the box's decoration as the others eyed it. "Are we ever going to be able to check what's inside it?"
Celene said, finally, "Perhaps it's better we don't."
It was silent, the proclamation ruminating like a wet blanket on the fun time they were having.
...eventually, Mallory shrugged. "We could rent out a bunker."
Carmen turned to look at her sharply. "We are not renting out a bunker."
Rory leaned forward, pointing back at them. "We could rent a safety deposit box!"
Sylvia sighed as the others got lost in a competition to come up with the most complicated hiding place, watching the last of summer's monarchs bustling about before they headed south to California. As much as she was glad for this all to be over, there was just as much that felt unresolved, and she knew she would be thinking about it for a long time.
Her gaze drifted upward, and she paused as her sight caught on a figure at the end of the park's side street.
It was really far off—they must have been crossing the crosswalk or something, because they were stopped in the middle of the road, gazing back in their direction. She couldn't see many details at that distance. Even so, she thought she saw light brown hair, and sunset caught on a long, white coat.
After a long moment, Sylvia turned her gaze from the road, turning back to the others where their conversation was still ongoing. She lowered her hand from the box, and she didn't say anything.
It was only a day or so later that Rory ran into Eddie.
She was coming home from work, and she noticed him sitting on a bench in the park. Honestly, he looked a little funny sitting there—this little dorky guy, poised pensively staring at the horizon like he was a hundred years old. She slowed on the path as she neared him. "Hey!"
He blinked, looking up as though he had just noticed her. His eyes widened. "Rory! Hey." His hands were stuffed in his pockets, but that could have been for warmth, as the autumn chill was just starting to work into the city in preparation for the months to come.
She frowned at him, tilting her head as he didn't immediately launch into some spiel. Eddie was a talkative guy. Plopping down on the bench beside him, she leaned over on her knees. "You okay? That expression." She shuddered, grinning a little bit. "So serious."
He shook his head, reaching up to rub his eye beneath his glasses. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine. It's just...it's hard to believe summer's nearly over, you know?"
She blew out a breath, leaning back. "Boy, I know it."
His eyes rose again to the sky, and she could see the reds and peaches of sunset reflected in his glasses. "D'you hear? The police did a big roundup of all of those big mob guys in the city. But then they just shot up the police station."
Oh, Eddie. She laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, I know. I was there."
His eyes widened. "Oh my god, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She nodded after a minute. "...they kept most of the guys, but the big boss got away." She was there, right? So no harm in telling him what had happened.
His frown deepened. The expression made her a little sad—Eddie was too young to be having a face look that old. "You think they're gonna come back?"
"I hope not," she sighed. They were quiet for several moments,
Eddie leaned back hard on the bench. He frowned at her, and she couldn't help but hope it wasn't pity. Or even worry. She was starting to realize what she wanted more than anything was for less people to have to worry all the time, one way or another. He said, "Hey, maybe with those guys gone, that vigilante will be able to retire. Leave the crime fighting to the professionals."
She closed her eyes, letting the last of the summer sun soak into her through the cut of the wind. "Yeah, maybe." Now, if you could tell me where the professionals were, I just might be okay.
Honestly, she didn't know what she was going to do. She was hoping to gracefully bow out of the vigilante business if possible, but it all depended on whether the Roots decided to make a comeback or not. Worse case scenario, at least she knew she wasn't alone. Celene was on the way up and Narma knew. And it seemed no matter what they did they were still going to be in danger—they were in a police station and they got shot at.
You could only be so safe if you wanted things to change.
"You look stressed," Eddie said after a long minute. She peeked an eye open, and he tossed a thumb back over his shoulder, where an ice cream stand stood on the edge of the park. "What do you say: one last bomb pop before summer's over?"
She eyed him for a moment, then she said, "You know what? That sounds pretty good."
In a week or so, they would be juniors.
Until then, and after even, she was going to take the good where she could get it. Happy wasn't going to happen by itself.
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On an internet forum, a post goes up.
Message for Sailor Soldiers *URGENT*
HELLO?
If ANYONE is seeing these please respond...
