Twelfth Stroke – Starlight Sentence
They did not march briskly on the return to Treadersberg. Instead, it was a slow, miserable trudge. Jessica set the pace as before, but she could not make much in the way of time, her energy had been drained away with all the blood she had lost, and what remained was needed for healing. It was only the degradation of her pace that revealed the true extent of her wounds. The single digit's face was an expressionless mask, completely concealing any revelations.
Sylvia found it hard to look at Jessica, once it became clear just how much damage she had suffered. She did it to save us, Sylvia knew. Replaying the hideous battle in her mind, time after time to reach some mysterious sense of detachment beyond the blood and yoki, it eventually became crystal clear. Had we not been led by a single digit none of us would have made it out alive. Sylvia could revisit the snapping of bowstrings and the click of crossbows in her mind against the screaming motions of Jessica's sword, and she knew. Neither she, nor Lynne, nor Racquel could have done what the number eight, with such greater speed and grace, had managed to salvage.
Even at the end, Sylvia comprehended belatedly; she could still reach out to aid us. She recalled the arrow Jessica had deflected away when she grabbed the officer's sleeve. Had she taken that hit, to the still vulnerable head, the Claymore suspected she would have lost all sensation for perhaps as much as ten seconds; a death sentence in the environment of the battle.
Let this be worth it, she silently whispered to the bloody scrap of cloth. She could make out a rough, feathered symbol buried beneath two bars. Presumably the bars signified rank, and the symbol the unit, but Sylvia could glean no more from that. Nothing in her knowledge schooled her to the symbols of human military formations. Still, she was resolved to find some use in this bit she had retrieved, her only useful contribution to the battle. I did not manage to kill any yoma, she recognized to her minor shame, so this must have meaning.
No one spoke as they marched. They were silent in their shock and despair. Jessica faced sternly ahead, her eyes fixated on the path before her, not deviating to even consider anything beyond that. Racquel's gaze wandered in all directions, settling on nothing. Lynne, poor Lynne, stared off into the distance, perhaps trying to peer beyond the borders of the world, and thereby forget. It was abjectly depressing, but there was hardly anything to rally, and Sylvia could find no words.
Lynne's agony was understandable in the abstract, though it was impossible to share. The rules were part of it, to be sure, Sylvia could imagine having such a thing hanging over her fate, but she knew there must be more. After all, she had recognized with a shock shortly into the retreat march. I have never taken the life of a human. That was not a reflection of kindness, not for her and certainly not for Lynne, who looked down on humans, but it was a line that, once crossed, turned into a vast and unfathomable gulf. This prohibition, it goes deeper than simply where we swing our swords, Sylvia realized with a shiver. I know not how, but it has shaped us all in some fashion. It was frightful to recognize, but a human warrior like Tyrin might take more human lives in a day than all forty-seven of the organization's Claymores, so feared by humans, in a decade. And yet, they still hate us just as much as yoma. The eyes of the soldiers as they had leveled their spears were all the evidence anyone would ever need.
So, while she might understand Lynne's distress, that of Jessica and Racquel was more puzzling, especially the single digit. Her mind turning circles about this puzzle, anything to keep her mind off Lynne and the soldiers, the Claymore eventually realized that it was not them, but her. I have become inured to this, for it was the third time. Though it had been plain enough to observe the difference between trained soldiers and bandits, Sylvia had still seen humans fight with yoma previously. The others had not faced that in the past. They were experiencing the true shock of the despicable alliance for the first time. Yet, the Claymore recognized sorrowfully. It will certainly not be the last. Even had we won today, I doubt this was the center of it. There is some greater hand here. She forbore thinking on what that might be, knowing she was not ready to consider it yet.
Treadersberg suddenly seemed so very far away. Taking guidance from Jessica, Sylvia focused her attention on the route before her, and piece by piece slowly channeled all the rest away, until the blissful oblivion of repeated steps took over her mind.
With their slowed pace the return journey took far longer than the going had. As the sun set Jessica ordered everyone to eat more, but otherwise they were silent. They did not even stop, but dragged along eating as they walked. The moon rose, slender and clear, beneath an unforgiving sky full of countless stars.
Half the night was gone, and the moon fading upon the horizon, before the town pulled into view.
Jessica gave a half-step, as if she was considering stopping, but then plunged on.
A moment later they turned a bend in the road to see an unusual shadow waiting on a roadside stone wall.
"You're late," the black drenched man spoke in a voice Sylvia instantly recognized.
Then, as the group came into focus and passed a gap in the overshadowing trees the voice changed. "What the hell happened?" he shouted, losing all semblance of control as he saw those blood-coated and pierced uniforms.
"Why is it you, Luny?" Sylvia inquired as idly as she could manage, having expected Jessica's handler instead.
"Because I'm managing the area for now," the cowl-wearing man's reply was terse. "But that's not an answer to my question; I want to know what happened." His eyes were hidden in the darkness but his head was turned directly to face Jessica. "Number eight, you need to report."
"Mission failed," Jessica's voice was empty, hollow, as if it had been gouged out slowly.
"Failed?" Luny did not appear surprised, but there was an edge to his words. "Failed how? Was there an awakened being present?"
It was a surprisingly generous way to begin the interrogation into a failure, almost as if the man in black was worried it might be something worse. If there was an awakened being, failure would be forgiven, Jessica might even be praised for keeping everyone alive, Sylvia knew. Luny suspects something, she guessed. He is not so nice.
"No," Jessica, even in defeat, offered few words of explanation.
"Well then, I need an explanation, not monosyllables," the man in black rasped. "Don't tell me a nest defeated you, it should have been well handled."
"There was…" Sylvia watched the single digit's face clench as she searched for the appropriate word. "…Interference."
Luny's left hand rose up, three fingers half-clenched, the other two bent in as usual. He seemed to be trembling, though from what emotion no one could tell. "Interference? Don't give me such babble!" he hissed. "I need information, stop being evasive and tell me what happened." He calmed visibly. "I'll get to the truth eventually, so don't try to play games, all it does is try my patience."
"A large human force supported the yoma," Jessica explained, and Lynne shot the single digit a baleful look.
Does she feel betrayed? Sylvia wondered. But how can we lie? Luny is good at digging through us, and Jessica is no dissembler. Sylvia regretted the other's lack of skill at deception even as she silently gave thanks for not having to give the explanation herself. Please, Jessica, Sylvia silently begged. Find a way to hide Lynne's infraction, there's no need for it to be brought to light. Normally Sylvia believed strongly in the rules, they provided essential structure to the life of a half-human half-yoma, held them together, but not this time. Lynne understands what has happened, and this is unlike any other case, it is not right for her to die. For her own part, she knew that it would be no burden to carry the secret forever if it should spare the loud warrior today.
"Humans?" Luny's voice froze. "Humans and yoma again, how unfortunate. What were the numbers, the results?"
"Twenty-five yoma, all standard types, though some were experienced," Jessica's voice had returned to normal as she recited her short list. "Something above seventy humans, perhaps eighty all told, it was not possible to get an exact count. Seven yoma were slain in the course of the battle, four by me, one by Racquel, and two by Lynne."
"Seven, barely more than a fourth, not good enough, not enough at all," Luny shook his covered head. "That's enough to weaken the nest, but not remove it." Then he paused, and went completely motionless for a moment. His head jerked up, staring into Jessica's silver eyes in the starlight. "And the human deaths?"
"None, though there were perhaps a dozen wounded, some seriously."
"You're lying," Luny's left hand shot up to rest inches from Jessica's face, his thumb, index ringer, and middle finger all poised to bore into her head. "You shouldn't lie to me. You don't have enough practice at it, number eight Jessica. Now, the truth, how may human dead, and who did it?" his voice was ice cold.
Jessica stood silent, refusing to speak. Sylvia felt great admiration for her fellow warrior in that moment that she believed strongly enough in Lynne's innocence to try defy the organization straight up. But it won't be enough, she knew. Silence won't stop him.
"How many human dead!" Luny shouted, raising his voice suddenly and far louder than Sylvia had ever remembered from the smallish man in black. "Which one of you did it? Or are you all guilty? Is that it then?" His accusation ripped at them. "Should I order four executions?"
Sylvia steeled herself, staring straight ahead, refusing to look at anything but the stone wall behind Luny. I must not move, I must not speak, otherwise I will betray Lynne; I know it. She regretted this, but it was her only refuge, she didn't think she could trick him.
Looking away from them all, Sylvia did not see what would trigger the next outburst. She would never know who it was that gave them away, something she was glad to not have to bear, weak though that course might be.
"So it's you then Lynne?" It was not really a question. "How many then?"
"One," Jessica admitted, and Sylvia's head turned to stare. See could not see why the single digit chose this answer. Perhaps she simply felt uncomfortable lying to the man in black. It certainly wasn't something any Claymore had much experience attempting.
"One is one more than zero," Luny replied mercilessly.
"But it was an accident," Sylvia heard the words spill from her own mouth without practically realizing she had spoken. "A man stumbled and became impaled on Lynne's sword; it was not something she did." She did not really know where the words came from, but she realized what she was trying to do. Perhaps she could save Lynne's life if Luny believed the fault lay with humans. "It's not like she killed him, he just died while we were there."
"You're a better liar than Jessica," Luny's head moved and he met her eyes coldly. "Perhaps it was an accident, but no warrior's sword takes the life of a human by such a simple error, none of you are that weak. Right Lynne?" he was still looking at Sylvia.
"You trained us to hit," Lynne's words, the first she had spoken in this encounter, were full of feeling. "You trained us to hit back, to kill vulnerable people, and we can even do it while retreating from powerful foes. He stumbled and I reacted. That's what I'm supposed to do, and you know it, damn it! Are you going to blame me for how you trained me?"
Sylvia shook her head. That is not the way Lynne, it's foolish. To her dismay, she discovered that she had expected the other warrior to say something unfortunate like that.
"Yes," Luny's voice turned to ice once more.
"But the circumstances!" Racquel finally made her presence known, pleading. "Humans and yoma at once, if we can't strike back, what can we do? Should we die?"
"Circumstances are irrelevant," Luny answered. "The rule states death is the punishment for killing a human no matter the situation."
"Surely the rule did not anticipate this kind of human-yoma alliance?" Sylvia tried a desperate tack, knowing things were unraveling quickly. "The rule assumes we can handle humans without killing, but when they stand with yoma, that is simply not the case."
"Maybe so, but that doesn't matter." The man in black did not budge.
"Doesn't matter!" Lynne roared. "How can it not matter? That rule almost got us all killed today! It's the whole reason this alliance exists, if there were no rule, then the humans wouldn't dare stand with the yoma! You've set us up to die because of your damn rule; it's a two-sided snare!"
"I know," Luny snapped, showing real anger, not the false anger he'd used to denounce them before. "I am aware of the situation, but the rules must be upheld. If this continues we may have to change the rules. So it goes. But, but! For now they stand, and under those rules you…Lynne…have forfeited your life." The words came slowly, piece by piece, but there was no doubt of the resolve behind that voice.
"You expect me to just choose to die!" she shouted, drawing up to her full height, standing over Luny, silver eyes burning yellow as anger took hold.
A hideous question, one with an equally hideous answer. "Yes," Luny said the single word clearly and carefully.
"Why should I?" Lynne demanded. "I can run. I don't have to sit and wait to die. You think they'll" she pointed back at the other three Claymores. "Kill me at your order over this? Do you?"
"If you chose to desert now, I will not be able to stop you," Luny admitted candidly. "But that will not spare you," he added, voice turning harsh and angry once more. "That will only add more deaths to the price that must be paid. If they refuse an order and let you escape, then all four will stand condemned. Teams will be dispatched to hunt you down, and they will succeed. Don't think the organization can't find you, or that the other warriors will share your plight. Run now and you will only buy deaths for everyone."
Sylvia knew Luny spoke the truth, they could not resist the wrath of the organization should it be directed at them. There were plenty of warriors who had no empathy at all, and no group of four led only by number eight could resist the strength brought against them. They might hide out for a while, but it would not last. Beyond all these cold calculations was something deeper. I do not want to desert. I do not want to perish for this, for Lynne. Two things remained clear to Sylvia. She would not raise her sword against Lynne, not tonight; not at Luny's order, but neither did she want to flee because of this. With horror she recognized that the brash and angry warrior held her life in her hands, and she hated that feeling, helpless as it was.
"And more will follow," Luny continued. "Do you think you are the only life this foul agreement has claimed? Do you?" he rebuked Lynne, staring up into those wrath-filled eyes without hesitation. "You're wrong, you aren't alone. Others have fallen!" he proclaimed it to them all. "At least two, lost in villages where yoma and human fought side by side, perhaps a third, and surely more to come before the word can be spread to all warriors. You will not be the first life this madness has claimed number thirty-two, but if you refuse execution here, matters will only become worse."
"What?" Lynne appeared confused, not comprehending the implications.
"If you take these four with you a team will have to be dispatched after you all, perhaps multiple teams if you scatter. Attention will be drawn away from the important matter!" Luny's words were livid now, filled with a passion Sylvia had not seen before, and did not understand. "More will die, and every minute this grouping of humans and yoma continues it grows wider, the ideas spread and become more and more difficult to contain. Eventually nothing will stop it, and the whole world could be corrupted and the organization's work undone! Die here, now, Lynne, and these three can go back, immediately, and hunt down the source of this menace. They can destroy it! They can save the lives of many more warriors, but for that you must die!"
"Why?" Racquel's voice was soft, but her speech was so unexpected everyone turned to stare. "Why must Lynne die? Why should anyone? If the rules must upheld, so be it, but why must the rules be wronged here?"
"You want me to lie then?" Luny cut to the heart of it swiftly. He paused a moment, and Sylvia wondered if he was actually giving the matter serious consideration. "I could lie," he said carefully. "But I won't."
"Why not damn you?" Lynne burst.
"Because I will not," Luny answered. "The humans you left alive are likely to spread the word no matter what, and for that the organization must answer, must uphold its edicts. Yet, that is not the only reason," he continued. "I will not have our rules mocked; I will not debase everything for the sake of one warrior. You all might promise to keep the secret and never tell, but I refuse to believe that. It would not last, and the price for such a falsehood would be greater than one life in the end. So I will not lie for you."
"So you will have me die for you instead!" Lynne shouted at him.
"I will have you die!" Luny retorted. "What it is for is up to you. Whether for your comrades, for the organization, or the rest I do not care. The order is as it stands: You, number thirty-two, Lynne, are marked for death by the organization. There is only one question that remains. Will you accept your execution, or will you run?"
"Damn you! Damn you! DAMN YOU TO HELL!" Lynne's voice, fueled by rage and yoki, rose to ear splitting power.
"That is not an answer," Luny stood calmly before the storm.
"I should rip your black-covered head right off!" Lynne hissed.
"You could, but it would change nothing, only add another body to the pile," Sylvia had to grant that Luny must either have incredible confidence, or great courage, for Lynne's body quivered with murderous intent, yet the man in black never wavered.
Suddenly, faster than Sylvia could follow, Lynne deflated. All the energy bled out of her, and she sank to the ground on her knees. "Fine then, have your sickening pound of flesh." Her voice was still strong and fierce, but it lacked true support now.
"I appreciate your cooperation," Luny told her, and Sylvia thought she caught a flicker of sadness in the voice. For her part, she was numb, unable to think anything. Everything was sucked away, and now it was a fog, waiting.
"Ideally, I would let you send your black card to any member you chose," Luny explained in clipped, reasoned tones. "However, time is critical, so I must ask you chose among those present. That is more than most who violate the rules would receive."
One of us must do this then? Sylvia realized with sudden shock, before it was buried beneath yet more numbness. We must cut down our comrade who has committed no real crime, only fallen afoul of circumstance, for the sake of some simple rules? Is this the nature of law? To mock justice so?
Lynne turned, and looked at each of the three in turn, fixing Racquel, Jessica, and Sylvia each with her steady gaze, now silver once again. Darkness obscured the details of her face, but it was clear there were no tears in her eyes.
She will pick Jessica, Sylvia guessed. Racquel was too young, there was no need for her to do this, and Lynne did not like Sylvia, they were too different of people. The single digit was the only one who made sense.
"No," Lynne whispered slowly. "It's not right. Not this way."
Luny appeared on the cusp of words.
"Sylvia," Lynne's voice demanded attention. "Where's the woman who was with you?"
"What?" she could not comprehend this change of events.
"Where is she?" Lynne repeated. "Still in Treadersberg? Go get her."
"Get her? What has Tyrin to do with this?" It made no sense.
"I want her to do it," Lynne said simply.
Sylvia froze, Racquel gasped, and even Luny's mouth fell wide open in a moment of shock.
"Why?" Sylvia managed after a long moment, recovering at least some semblance of speech.
"I'm going to die for humans," Lynne said without hesitation. "So I want a human to do it. She's the best candidate. So go get her!"
"Tyrin is not mine to command," Sylvia churned through any option that presented itself, not knowing what to do, having no method to deal with this situation at all, totally adrift. "I cannot make her do it, no one can."
"Then ask," Lynne spoke impatiently. "Do it now, hurry, I can't stand this."
Unable to determine what she should do, Sylvia turned to Luny.
"Go," he said without needing any words. "There is little time, but I suppose this can be allowed."
So Sylvia went, still without understanding.
She ran to Treadersberg, pushing her wounded body perhaps harder than she ought, but she didn't have any focus, so she ran.
It was not far to the town at the pace of a running Claymore, minutes perhaps. This late, only a few watchmen remained on guard, and they had no intention of accosting a Claymore in a hurry.
Recalling the inn where she had left Tyrin, only yesterday, though it seemed much longer, was easy.
Amazingly she did not have to wake the human warrior, as the other woman was just leaving the inn, armed and armored.
"Tyrin," Sylvia skidded to a stop over hardened earth. "What are you doing awake?"
"Running out of patience," the soldier replied. "You said you'd be back earlier, and the waiting was getting to me. So I decided to quit staying up in bed and go looking" She squinted at the Claymore, struggling to see in the darkness. "It looks like something happened."
"I need you to come with me briefly," Sylvia rushed, knowing there was little time. "Sorry, but I'll explain on the way."
"What happened?" Tyrin demanded, her expression souring.
Sylvia set into motion and Tyrin matched her, walking briskly. "The nest we were to clear out, unfortunately there were a number of human soldiers waiting in ambush."
"Bad," Tyrin recognized immediately.
"Yes, there were some substantial difficulties," Sylvia did not properly know where to begin. How do you tell someone they've been asked to be an executioner?
"So why do you need me?" Tyrin questioned. "Is there pursuit?"
"No, that is not the problem," Sylvia answered. "It is well," she hesitated. "Perhaps it is best if others explain. It is not far."
Indeed, the return did not take long at all, and Sylvia estimated that little more than half an hour had passed since she left her companions. The scene, with Lynne lying on her knees by the roadside, had not changed at all.
It took Tyrin some time to notice things, her human eyes could not match silver ones in the darkness, and she had to get close as a result. Sylvia thought the human woman's gaze fixated strangely on Luny's black figure, only to recall that though she had heard about the man and lived in his shadow for some time, she had never seen him before.
"What's going on?" she put the question to everyone.
"Something unpleasant," Jessica said first.
"I'll explain, damn it," Lynne cut off the single digit. She fixed her silver eyes on Tyrin's face, locking her gaze with the soldier's. "I need you to do something."
"Do what? What can I do that you can't?" Tyrin could sense something was wrong, Sylvia observed, but she remained uncertain.
"You can take that sword and cut off my head with it," Lynne said bluntly. "I hope you can manage it in one stroke."
"What!"
"I killed a human today," Lynne's face held a bitter smile. "Stupid thing really, a complete accidental mistake, but it seems the rules are the rules. Luny here's made it clear; I have to accept my fate, or too many others will die, and I'll only live for a short while longer anyway. Since it's like that, I'd rather not be known as a deserter."
"But if the humans attacked you then…surely," Tyrin's voice held clear disbelief.
"Don't soldiers sometimes lose their heads for things they did with the best intentions?" Lynne's smile was sickly, but it was somehow still there, Sylvia couldn't understand it.
"Yes," Tyrin admitted, words laced with bitterness. "It does happen, but why should that happen to you, here?"
"We are half-human half-yoma, I guess we've got the nastiest rules to keep us in line," Lynne shrugged.
"Why me? Surely one of your comrades should…"
"NO!" Lynne shouted. "If I'm to die for a human's life, then I want a human to do it! Will you do it? Well?"
Slowly Tyrin drew her sword. She looked at it carefully, examining the broad steel blade in the starlight. She stepped over to stand before Lynne, raising the blade carefully in a two handed grip. Sylvia stood to her left, the other two Claymores behind their kneeling comrade, and the shadowy image of Luny behind.
Lynne tilted her head back. "Straight across, in one blow, you can manage that right?"
"This is absurd," Tyrin rambled. "How can you accept this?"
"I've made my decision, so I'll stick with it," She stared back at the human woman. "Hesitating is for the weak." She fixed the soldier with a brilliant smile, her face brighter than Sylvia had ever seen on any of her kind. A kind of deep happiness that she didn't believe even existed for them. "And you can tell me how great I am later." Lynne finished.
"I'll make sure to do that," Tyrin raised her blade, trembling and shaking, positioning it side to side, to make the strike from left to right.
The sword was ready, but she simply held it there, waiting, unable to move.
"What are you waiting for?" Lynne demanded, her eyes to the sky. "Do it now! Before I lose my resolve!"
"DO IT!"
Tyrin moved.
The blade came across.
There was a brief spurt of blood, and then the head sailed slowly through the air, smoothly tumbling toward the ground.
Jessica caught it in one hand at the neck the moment before it would have struck the dirt.
Everyone was still.
Sylvia felt empty of everything. It was as if some dark thing from the center of the earth had reached up and swallowed a piece of her world, taking it away without explanation or cause. All was blotted out, and there was no reason to anchor it.
Tyrin moved again. She her right leg jerked backwards, weight shifted, and her whole body turned, spinning. The sharp steel, stained with blood, flashed out, motion cleared the redness from that edge, revealing razor edged cutting strength.
With such a quick move in the darkness Tyrin must have been able to see very little, but she did not miss her target. The sword cut through Luny's black cowl, and seared a ragged red line along the edge of his skull.
"Wha-" the man in black grunted in shock, but the soldier was not done.
Her body still moving, the left arm followed in the path of the right, and a gauntleted hand slammed square in the middle of the man in black's face.
Luny jerked backward, thrown to the ground and crumpled.
Tyrin, breathing with bellows force, stood over him.
Slowly the man in black struggled to his feet. Blood leaked down the right side of his face in great quantity, as a head wound was want to do, and he held his left hand over a shattered nose, itself dripping blood.
"Wretch," he hissed, voice somewhat distorted, but clear enough in its way. "You dare!"
"Yes I dare!" Tyrin spat in Luny's face. "To hell with you!"
"The organization is not mocked like this woman!" he howled in response, wiping away a stream of blood. "You will pay!"
"What are you going to do?" Tyrin mocked. "Order them to kill me?" she gestured at the remaining three Claymores. "They can't! You've made that crystal clear haven't you!"
Sylvia could hardly believe what was happening, and by her eyes neither could Luny, for the man in black looked panicked in a way she'd never observed on any of them, ever.
Casually the soldier put away her blade. "You know what Luny, if you even deserve a name from me," Tyrin's voice burned. "I'd kill you myself, right now, but I'm not a murderer, and it wouldn't be worth it anyway. I'll tell you what though," and she pushed her face very close to his blood-spattered one, though she still spoke so all could hear. "We think of them as monsters, silver-eyed witches and so forth, us humans, but I learned something tonight. It's you people who make monsters out of them. It's not them, it's you. You can keep the scar I gave you to remind you of that."
"You will regret this," Luny spat out blood. "I-"
"Threaten me any more and I will cut your throat out and leave you to rot on the side of the road," Tyrin hissed, pushing away from Luny's face. "Don't think I'm not tempted to do it right now."
Luny gave the woman a steel-eyed look, face rapidly becoming coated in a smooth sheen of blood. He said nothing to the soldier, but looked at the others. "Your mission isn't over," he commanded. "You will go back to the village and clear out the yoma. Drive the humans back, and follow them. Find the source of this madness, and destroy it! Until you do, don't bother coming back again." He stood and hobbled back over the rock wall, heading toward the woods. Just before he reached them, he turned back a final time, and Sylvia thought she saw a vengeful smile on his face. "I don't think there's any reason to provide you a fourth member, since you have such an eager volunteer with you." Then he vanished into the shadows beneath the boughs.
Tyrin took one last look, and then collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face.
Sylvia watched as Jessica laid Lynne's head atop her body, and then discovered that she too was crying in the dirt, incomprehensibly. Racquel as well joined them. Jessica remained standing, and was silent, but water flowed down from her eyes all the same.
Eventually, the first glimpses of a still far-off dawn breaking in the eastern sky, the single-digit spoke. "We must bury our comrade, the rest can wait."
Notes: One of the several reasons this chapter is staged at night is so that I can dodge questions of what color Luny's blood might be, because, unfortunately, we just don't know what the men in black are (Rubel's lack of aging strongly implies that they aren't ordinary humans, but just what is anyone's guess). That made writing an already difficult chapter even more challenging than it would otherwise be.