"Just let me talk to them. I'm sure they'll be more than willing to cooperate."
"No."
The word hadn't been unexpected, but it hit Relera with very real force all the same. "I don't get it. They've been kept in the dark for long enough, yes?"
"No."
Relera fumed in silence for a few moments as she tried to think of another way to crack open the Oracle's defenses. "What if I—"
"No."
"Fine!" The Duchess threw her arms up as her patience threatened to reach its end. "I'm going for a walk."
"It matters not to me."
"Fine!" Relera repeated, a little more loudly this time. "You're just so infuriating, and you know it!"
"Yes."
"Gah!"
As Relera stepped out of the room, she put as much effort as she could into slamming the door behind her. Just before it would've shut, however, she felt it slow down in her hand as if being pulled by an opposing force.
Click.
That was hardly the sound she'd wanted out of it. She turned to stare at the door for a moment, her face expressionless. There was an electric tingle present in her fingers that was already beginning to fade.
Impotent.
Even something as simple as a display of rage was denied to her under the watchful eye of the Goddess' Oracle.
Green. Green. Green. Green.
Another night under the stars – not that they were visible to anyone who cared to see them. As had been the case since her first night in this city, Noire found herself restless, even as her body demanded sleep. She was starting to feel like a wandering spirit, her head burning from the ever-present glow of Leanbox, her eyes forming into a blank stare more often than not. How this was supposed to be a pleasant experience for tourists, she couldn't say. Of course, most tourists probably had a bed more comfortable than a mattress upon the ground – they'd managed to at least upgrade from their previous cardboard-based solution, but Blanc still insisted that checking into a hotel with their newfound funds would draw too much attention.
The sight of the black void visible through a gap in the skyways above brought flashes of some distant memory – the heavens of Celestia, now further away than they had ever seemed before. Yet, Noire couldn't remember a time she had ever spent a night outside back home. Had it been during that curious, foggy era she called her childhood? She had only the vaguest recollection of what her life had consisted of before she was known as the CPU of Lastation. But, somehow, Noire could picture it now – a shooting star needling through an incredible display of colorful nebulae and celestial dust, the sounds of mirth coming from a group huddled around a campfire, the grass beneath her back damp from a recent storm that had threatened to ruin their outing…That must have been centuries ago, at least.
The goddess let out a quiet sigh. The air was so very still. At some point, it had dawned on her just how stagnant the world felt. There was no breeze, no changes in temperature, and never a break in the distant melody of festive music. Something about this place was simply unnatural. Was it the effect the Festival had on people, its magic creating an imperceptible static that burned at the senses? Was it a result of being within this city, with its clever web of streets that stretched from deep beneath the ground to the heights of its monolithic towers? Was it just the obvious result of being thrown head-first into a foreign land? Surely, she could list another hundred of such causes, but her mind was already growing tired. Then again, maybe she should keep going – it seemed to be working better than counting sheep.
I can't sleep. Not when I think – when I know – someone is out there, watching.
Noire's head rolled over to the side as she struggled to find a more comfortable way to lay on her makeshift bed. In the faint light spilling from the street, she could make out the form of Neptune lying some distance away, the girl's chest rising and falling in a telltale rhythm. Her snoring was quieter than usual, barely being audible beneath the ambience of the city – not that Noire was complaining. And, yes, against another wall could be seen none other than the delicate, sumptuous Vert, having travelled such a long way from the walls of her sanctuary within the Leanbox Basilicom they knew. Her troubled face was a far cry from the serene confidence she allowed others to see – her eyes shifted beneath their lids, wondering when they would be free of the dream that held them.
But what of Blanc? Noire lifted her head, straining to make out anything against the dim greenness that made up the world around her. A mattress in the clearing was empty, having been left unattended with its blankets pulled to the side.
Now suddenly feeling a little more awake, Noire rose to her feet. It had been Blanc who'd argued against Noire's suggestion that one of them stay up to keep watch while the others rested. The CPU of Lowee had seemed so adamant that no harm would come to them. Had she intended to stand guard herself, not wanting the others to worry about her health? Or was there something else?
It's never simple when it comes to her.
A quick look toward the street revealed no silhouette standing in the shadows – no sentry was present to watch over the sleeping goddesses. A sense of alarm shot through Noire. She didn't know whether to be more concerned that they had been left unguarded or that Blanc was somewhere out there. Alone.
But, surely, a goddess could manage on her own? The CPU of Lowee was no pushover, after all – Lastation's goddess had engaged in enough fights both with and against Lowee's contender to know that much. And Noire had done well enough in her own outings so far. Even Vert and – shockingly – Neptune seemed to have no trouble with handling their independent sorties.
A quiet chuckle came from Noire when she realized that she'd been silently mouthing her thoughts to no one in particular. She wasn't sure when she'd picked up the habit of talking to herself, but it wasn't doing any favors to her image as a loner. A sudden yawn brought her attention further inward – she needed sleep. Still, that niggling sense of worry didn't seem like it was going to go away anytime soon.
So many awful, awful things can happen to a poor, poor little girl lost within this world.
Noire stiffened as this thought washed over her. Her mouth hadn't formed those words. Her eyes glanced about, wondering if she was simply so tired that her senses were becoming confused.
"Is someone there?"
There was no response – not that Noire expected one, given that she had barely spoken above a whisper. She was almost taken aback by the shakiness of the sigh that escaped her own lips.
Noire took a single step forward before turning her attention back to the sources of the snores coming to her ears. Would it be best to wake them? Surely they would just pester her with the usual annoying questions and jokes, and Noire was hardly in a mood to listen to Neptune's shrill voice.
Better not to worry them, then.
Soon enough, Noire found herself standing on the sidewalk, a wide open street stretching in either direction. And, of course, the silhouette of that ridiculous hat the goddess of Lowee always wore was still nowhere to be seen. An entire city sat ready to be explored.
An entire city to be lost within once again.
The Lastation CPU steeled herself with another uneasy breath before resuming her journey.
Uhg. I hope she knows how much trouble she's making for me, because I'm going to pound it into her head when I find her!
There was no telling how much time passed as Noire set forth into the streets of Leanbox. As always, there was no destination in mind. And, as always, her sense of direction failed her. Her steps began to increase in pace even as her stamina flagged, her heels now clacking against the sidewalk, her glare throwing aside any passersby who had the misfortune of crossing her path—
"EEK!"
Noire may have set some kind of acrobatic record as she leapt forward, having felt a pair of hands clamp onto her shoulders. It didn't take much for her to figure out what had happened when she heard a familiar guffawing resound from behind.
"Good grief, Neptune! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?!"
Another laugh came from the Neptune in question. "Oh, but come on, Noire! I can't help it when you make such a funny face every time!"
Noire lowered her hand from her chest, giving an irritated groan. "Whatever. I didn't ask you to follow me. So beat it."
Neptune gave her best impression of a pout. "But…but Noire! It's so cold and lonely out here with just Vert to keep me company!"
The implication that Vert was "cold and lonely" herself briefly crossed Noire's mind, but it was quickly flushed out by annoyance. "Hmph. And why should I care?"
"Bah, humbug!" Neptune cried. "Cold and Lonely Heart strikes again!"
"Would you stop using those words?!"
Neptune's expression suddenly turned sly. "But, wait. Is Noire going on a sneaking mission all on her lonesome?" The girl took in a dramatic gasp. "Is she going on a sneaking mission with Blanc?! And without inviting me or Vert! How very snaky of you, Nowa!"
Noire felt her fingers twitch. The motion was nearly imperceptible, in contrast to the tension present within Noire's arm as she forced it to remain at her side.
"Uh…Noire?"
Noire gave a nervous laugh, throwing on what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Oh, yes, a snaking mission with Blanc! Of course! Ahahahah!"
"R-Right you are, Noire. Ahah…ahahahahah…" Neptune's own laugh trailed off with nary a punchline. "Well, I guess I'll see ya later, then."
Neptune's gait lacked the usual pep as she headed back to what she'd rather eloquently dubbed the CPU Hideout for CPUs.
That felt wrong.
Noire gazed down at her hand, giving it a few conscious flexes.
"Lemme know how the sneaky-snake goes!" Neptune called from some distance away.
No reply was given. What could Noire possibly say? She was in no mood for games and hijinks – she'd made that very clear, and, for once, Neptune had complied. Yet, it hadn't at all gone as Noire had envisioned it. A line had been crossed somewhere without either of them realizing that it had even existed before.
Take a look around. Is this not what you wanted?
It was true that she was now as alone as one could get in the middle of a teeming metropolis. As much as the others teased her for it, she really did value her privacy – her personal space, as it was. And, as much as she did her best to set an example as the leader of Lastation, she found that she seemed to be at her happiest during those scant few moments of free time she managed to steal away. There were so many things she wanted to do – so many forms of entertainment to indulge in – but never, never enough time.
All Noire could do was give a sigh, pressing a hand to her forehead, which was beginning to suffer a dull, pounding ache. I've been letting Blanc rub off on me a little too much.
Blanc!
She had been searching for the missing CPU, hadn't she? Yet, as Noire took another look down the street with its endless silhouettes of strangers, she found her will to keep on forward dwindling by the second.
It's hopeless. This place is beyond huge. I'll never find her at this rate.
Oh? Giving up so soon?
"Yes. I give up." The words were more mouthed than spoken, but their impact was felt all the same. "I'm sick…of this…"
She wasn't sure why she'd suddenly had the urge to yell, but regardless of the reason, her voice had decided to falter. Her mouth opened once again, but no words at all escaped this time. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, forcing her body to obey.
"I'm sick of this!"
The outburst was a guttural one, born of emotion gleeful for its chance to finally rise to the surface. She was sick of this city. Of this world. Of this fruitless mission they had so stupidly set upon with only the most basic of guidance. How many hours had she wasted in this eye-watering maze? The endless night had melded into a miasma that she knew was eating away at her, little by little. Those days of presiding over her very own nation, of meeting others in honorable combat, of feeling the warmth of the shares? They could have been another lifetime ago, for all she knew. Now, her existence was a nothingness – that of a wastrel, waiting for…something. Anything.
Her knees suddenly grew wobbly, the most horrible of chills running through her. Her stomach felt weak, as if it was sick in its own way, a twinge of pain forcing her to double over.
What's happening to me?
The part of Noire that still clung to sense was acutely aware that her behavior was drawing more than a few weird looks. She hobbled away to take refuge from the crowds in a nearby side street, pressing her back against the stony foundation of a building as she sat down.
Why are you so afraid, CPU of Lastation? Ah, but is it the answer to this question in itself that strikes such terror into your heart?
"Why…why am I…"
She hardly even understood what she was trying to ask herself. As it was, she was barely managing to keep her emotions in check. It felt as if her entire body was clenching in the most unpleasant manner possible as she buried her face in her hands, waiting for it to all simply go away.
Slowly, the minutes ticked away one by one. She eventually began to regain conscious control of her form. Yet, even as calm settled over her, there was no denying the sinking feeling within her chest, or the tightness left in her throat. Finally, she deflated with one very long, very heavy sigh, bringing up her knees to lay her chin upon them.
Crybaby.
A wince flashed across her face.
You're stronger than this. Don't be ridiculous.
"I know."
You still have a CPU to find, you know. Better get to it.
"I know."
Another sigh.
I am my own taskmaster.
Noire blinked, feeling as if she had just stumbled over something very important.
Why am I like this?
Already, she could feel that horrible sensation from before making its return. She quickly dropped the subject, lest she be overwhelmed once again. Still, it seemed as if she was making progress – although what that progress was being made toward, she couldn't say.
So, what now?
"I don't know."
Really, she didn't feel like doing much at all. She was tired, hungry, sore, and seriously wishing she was back home at the moment, telling her little sister good night – she'd tried tucking the girl in once at Histoire's suggestion, only to be met with protest. A tiny smile formed on Noire's lips at the memory. The girl valued her independence just as much as her older sibling did, it seemed.
Good grief. I'm turning into an old maid, reminiscing like this. At this rate, she'll be having kids, and I'll still be grumpy Aunt Noire.
Wait.
The smile fell.
I can't remember her name.
Noire continued to simply sit, certain that she was just too tired to think straight. Time passed as she stared into the shadowed wall across from her.
The tears didn't try to come this time. Odd.
In fact, she felt perfectly fine.
Completely and utterly calm.
Whatever progress she had just made suddenly seemed so very minute.
Poor, poor little Noire. All you have ever dreamed of is the freedom to pout and cry like the child you are. Still, you have a long ways yet to bloom, CPU of Lastation. How terrible to behold your flower shall be with such poisoned soil.
Go away.
There was no response. Of course. For a moment, Noire had fancied that she might somehow be heard. But no one ever listened to her – no one but herself. Herself, and herself, and herself…
Slowly, she rose to her feet, her eyes unblinking. That tension she had felt upon nearly lashing out against Neptune now came back in full force, tearing against every part of her body.
"You should be resting right now."
Noire had to stop herself from slicing at the air with a non-existent sword as she jumped back away from the voice. "Blanc?! Where have you been?!" The words came out a little hoarse.
"I could ask you the same question. But it's not important."
"'Not important?!'"
Blanc's face was as stoic as ever, but the dark bags beneath her eyes were hard to miss. "You should calm down. We'll need to conserve our energy for the days to come."
"Says you, sneaking out on your own!"
The slightest hint of annoyance became visible on Blanc's brow. "Come, Noire – let's head back to the hideout."
Noire crossed her arms, being sure to stand right in the way. "No. I want to know what's going on. With you. With…with me. With all of us." She found it difficult to keep her gaze locked onto Blanc's eyes.
If one listened very closely, they could hear the tiny sigh that Blanc let out. "I've already tried to tell you. You're going to piss me off if you keep bugging me."
The two exchanged glares for one long, tense moment. Finally, Noire lowered her arms, stepping aside. "Fine. But you're going to at least apologize for making me come look for you."
"Sorry." It was spoken quickly, without hesitation or sincerity. Her next words were barely audible – something about "shouldn't have bothered."
The noise that came from Noire was unmistakably one of frustration. "I was worried about you, Blanc!"
The CPU of Lowee had been in the process of walking by to take the lead, but she spun on her heel to face Noire at this exclamation. "Why?"
"Because I…" The words trailed off, Noire's mind abruptly hitting a roadblock.
Blanc didn't bother sticking around to wait for Noire to form a response.
"Pfft," Noire breathed, turning her head aside. "Fine, then. Fall into a pit of spikes, for all I care."
If Blanc heard those muttered words, she gave no indication, merely continuing to walk away at an unbroken pace. Eventually, though, she stopped to look over her shoulder. "Are you coming or not?"
"Why should I?"
Those words seemed to hang in the air as a silence fell over them. Blanc turned to face Noire, stepping forward to close the gap between the two. As before, they simply gazed at one another, unblinking.
Blanc decided that she was tired of their little staring contest around the time her eye started to twitch. "We don't have time for you to be a stubborn bitch. Let's go."
The statement had been spoken quietly, but the effect it had on Noire was not subtle. She sucked in a breath, her eyes growing wide as her hands balled into fists. Yet, her lips remained sealed, being pressed into a thin line.
A twinge of fear actually managed to go through the CPU of Lowee. While it went against every single one of Blanc's instincts, she knew it would be smart to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. "We have to stick together, Noire. The people of this world need—"
Blanc was interrupted by a loud, wordless cry from Lastation's goddess, who leapt forward to lunge at her Loweean counterpart. The two fell together in a confusing tangle to the ground. Blanc felt the back of her head impact the sidewalk, and before she could even try to recover from the pain, she found a pair of tiny hands clamping around her throat with astonishing strength.
The two of them had been in more than a few fights before, given that they had long been combatants in the Console War. Yet, they had never before resorted to brawling in such a basic, primal manner. This was a form of combat not at all befitting of beings who called themselves goddesses – but there was hardly time to think about that as Blanc struggled to pry Noire away from her.
Even in their human forms, the CPUs were formidable fighters, possessing strength far beyond what their slender bodies should reasonably provide. Incidentally, Blanc happened to have the most disproportionate level of physical prowess of them all. As soon as she managed to tear Noire's hands away, Blanc pressed the offensive, grabbing the side of Noire's head and slamming her face into the ground. Blanc rolled away and rose to her feet, noting that Noire had recovered almost instantly, a scratch just barely visible on her forehead.
The two stood panting for a moment after their brief scrap, their blood pumping and ready for more. This was an all-too-familiar feeling for the goddesses, having battled one another for so many centuries – and they reveled in it. Why had they ever stopped? They were born for battle, weren't they? It would be so delightful to smash that perfect face until it was no longer recognizable, leaving all of those Lastation citizens to cry over the body of their oh-so-overrated idol—
Blanc shook her head, knowing that her thoughts were clouding with rage and adrenaline. No matter how much she wanted to give Noire what-for, they couldn't afford to ignite a new war between themselves. Blanc reached a hand up, belatedly realizing that her hat had fallen from her head. She took a few quick glances around in search for it.
In the next moment, she found herself back on the ground, her cheek pressed against the sidewalk. A terrible ache was shooting through her head – she clenched her teeth, waiting for the pain to pass. Eventually, she managed to open her eyes. Through blurry vision, she could just make out the shape of someone hurrying away, the sound of their boots against the pavement muffled in her ears.
Some time passed before realization struck – after which a terrible fury burned away any hint of pain.
I owe her one. And she's going to feel it when I catch her.