Author's Note: So I sort of got so used to referring to Melia as Queen because of XC3, I completely forgot that she's also Empress of the High Entia. (Hence the whole Tyrea being 'Shadow of the Empress' thing.) Erm...

Time for an Author's Saving Throw!

xxxx

Change was an inevitable part of life for any individual.

If it was inevitable for individuals, then it was likewise inevitable for other groups comprised of such: families, clans, companies, guilds, villages, towns, cities, nations, and societies one and all.

How one responded or adapted to those changes was a testimony to their character.

("It is quite interesting, the variances and similarities," Melia remarked to her counterpart across dimensions. "For multiple nations to establish an alliance, yet delegate ambassadorial responsibilities to a first-among-equals...and even then, only in recognition for your contributions to saving the world." Even as Nia protested against the fact she had been made a queen at all, Melia could only smile at the parallels.)

For Melia, her decision to adopt the title of 'Queen' had been driven as much by pragmatism as it had been by diplomacy.

("I am not abandoning my title of 'Empress of the High Entia'," calmly said Melia, cutting off Tyrea's tirade in its tracks. "However, even with Alcamoth serving as our proverbial capital...our people are still a shadow of the empire it once was. Now we are part of a collection of races, voluntarily uniting as one nation with one face towards our counterparts from another world." Melia looked out over the balcony of Alcamoth, which loomed over the town below: Homs, Machina, High Entia, and Nopon alike all mingled in harmony...or the closest thing to it. "If Queen Nia is the representative of the peoples of Alrest, then it only seems fitting for the representative of the peoples of Bionis and Mechonis to be likewise." Left unsaid was the matter of potential perceptions of a power imbalance, especially since Nia counted a Queen, a King, and an Emperor among her dignified compatriots. "In the end...a title is merely that: I am still tasked with leading us into this new era regardless.")

Even the names of the alliances, chosen before the Intersection, had been a reflection of that adaptability.

(It was a late night, mere months before Origin would activate; two women quietly conversed, thinking about hypothetical scenarios. That night, they spoke of what to do if their worlds became one in the aftermath. "It is strange, looking to history for inspiration," remarked Melia, when Nia had gone on a tangent regarding herd animals which no longer existed. "The amount of information Shulk has pulled from Ontos's memory...it's almost like looking into an entirely different world." The night slowly waned, and they still talked; an understandable feeling, given how their dreams had recently been plagued by the possibilities of failure. "That would be...a truthful portrayal of our circumstances," sleepily murmured Melia, resisting the urge to yawn. "Two words for 'lamb' from long dead languages...two lambs coming back together, again becoming one flock...it would be fascinating to witness." Alas, how little did either of them know that these names for their respective alliances — born from minds addled with bouts of stress and insomnia — would become cemented by the Endless Now.)

It was said that those who did not adapt would die. Yet was remaining stalwart and unyielding in the face of change an inherently bad thing, if it meant remaining true to oneself?

(Even after the world had been reborn without gods...even after the Intersection, and the Rejoining...many problems remained. Melia vented as much to her friend Fiora, one day. "Even though we no longer war with each other...the struggles of life still manifest," she remarked, quietly sipping her friend's tea. "Sickness; pain; strife; vice; even in this new world, imperfection remains," she mused, wondering just how much Shulk thought of the same thing. Yet, Fiora's hope — born of her own hardship — still served to invigorate. Melia thought of her friends, and swore to keep standing. "No matter what this new era brings, I will not falter. We'll do our utmost to ensure this world will be worth living in for all who come after us.")

And so it was for Melia; just as it was for so many others: some responded to change by changing themselves.

Others responded by becoming more steadfast in who they had already been.

Whether that was good or bad...is beyond the scope of the present to render a just verdict.

xxxx

Lanz had always considered himself to be a fairly simple sort.

Even when others around him had marvelled about the possibility of Homs and Machina bearing hybrid offspring, he hadn't paid much attention to it. People were people, after all.

(His first memory of the orphanage involved a question: why was he here? The caretakers had looked a little uncomfortable; an elderly lady promised to tell him when he was older. He had left it at that, taking the caretakers at their word.)

People could be good, but people could also be rotten; that's why it was important to have people you could count on, and why you had to look after those who had no one to turn to. It was only proper, right?

That mentality had become grounded in a strange foundation, once the worlds had become one. Even as he grew, he became further settled into who he was as an individual (even as he privately thought Noah, Joran, and Eunie were starting to act a bit wonky). Sure, his newfound love of working out had been a bit odd at first, but who didn't want to be fit and muscular?

(It was after the Rejoining — shortly after Lanz, Noah, Eunie, and Joran had been adopted by Riki — when his new brotherpon brought him a handheld terminal. On its display was the story of an old incident from when Lanz had been very young: during a time of unusual fever that had rendered many people ill, a band of opportunistic Igna and Tirkin raiders had made for the high seas with whatever they could steal. The article continued with details about the casualties of the raid: the picture of a male Machina and a female Homs among those who had died struck a chord: a brief flash of faces, with photographic clarity. "What happened to 'em?" he asked. Brotherpon Riku had calmly explained that the Igna responsible had been put down by local security forces in the aftermath, along with the rest of the monsters that hadn't managed to escape. "So those mudders got what they deserved? Then I guess that's that, then." When Riku had inquired as to whether he felt a desire to seek revenge against those who had escaped, Lanz could only shrug. "Wouldn't know where to find them. I mean, if I happened across 'em, I'd wallop 'em good. But what would Noah, Joran, or Eunie think if I went off by lonesome? Can't do much of anything on my own." He wasn't sure if that bit of self-deprecation was what Riku had been looking for, but his brotherpon had simply nodded before waddling away. Big Bro Riku was cryptic, like that.)

Now, after reuniting with Sena, and coming to an understanding of what the foundation was — life in Aionios, amidst an endless war, where he had worn a mask of abrasive, reckless confidence over a weary heart — Lanz could not help but wonder if Riku had foreseen the current situation.

Because sparks, was it difficult to ignore the fact that a kid wearing Moebius D's face was walking around the Imperial Palace of Mor Ardain without a seeming care in the world.

"Lanz. You're staring again."

Lanz blinked, looking over his shoulder at Mio. (There was a brief flash of images: an older Mio in white; an older Mio with long hair, clad in silver armor; Mio, dissolving into golden motes of light.) "Ah. I mean, uh...you can't exactly blame me, can you?" Mio's gaze followed his as he looked back at the arena; it was one of the private ones — with tall walls and various balconies from which one could observe — exclusively for use by the Imperial Family, their trusted guards, and guests of their choosing. At this time — under the watchful eyes of Brighid and Mythra — Sena and Dirk were sparring.

From Mio and Lanz's perspective, the combatants' shouts echoed in their ears.

"-you're starting to slow down, Sennie!" exclaimed Dirk as he barely wove in and around Sena's mallet.

"Stop being such a Dirkinhead and let me hit you!" protested Sena, her hammer smashing down with enough force to send a wave of ether at her opponent.

"Better a Dirkinhead than a hothead!" joked Dirk with a grin as he leapt above the ether wave. "Speaking of which, you ever gonna use your fire? Might actually singe my clothes, since you ain't hitting me otherwise!"

Sena's answer came in the form of a roar, as she finally used an Art that unleashed a burst of blue fire.

"...it feels weird, seeing her use fire," murmured Lanz, tilting his head out of curiosity. "I mean, it seems right, given that her hair's on fire. But...you know what I'm getting at?"

Mio simply nodded; that was enough for him.

Even so, as the duel came to an eventual end, and Brighid passed out pointers, Lanz couldn't help but growl at Dirk.

"Lanz," warned Mio.

"I know...it's just hard. I keep looking at him, and all I see is Moebius." (Another flash: of a crimson and violet giant with knives for teeth; a pale and haggard man, staring at them with haughty eyes and a malicious grin.)

"And when I look at him, I see Moebius." Mio leaned on the balcony rail, staring intently at Dirk. "But I also see my brother; a member of my family; someone I love."

With those words, she sounded so much older than the little teenager she appeared to be. Lanz wondered if Noah would have seemed just as off-putting. "...sounds awful."

"It is. But I put up with it because he's trying. So please...don't try and antagonize him."

Lanz ran a hand through his hair, grimacing with annoyance. Snuff, Mio had a point. "Fine. But if he starts something..."

"...if he starts something, at least keep a cool head," she relented, placing her hands on her hips. "Because he's my brother, I know that he can be devilishly annoying when he puts his mind to it. He apparently gets it from Mum."

Lanz nodded, slowly looking with curiosity at Mio. "Right...still feels weird to think about how Queen Nia's your mother...how does that whole 'three moms' thing work out, anyhow?"

Mio shrugged. "It's all I've ever known; it helps that they all love my father. But I'm curious about what getting adopted by Riku's father feels like."

"Heh, it feels awesome," boasted Lanz, subtly glad that they were moving onto a different topic. "You should see him when he wrestles with all us kids; he's unstoppable!"

"He doesn't let you all win every once in a while?"

"Comes with being the 'Legendary Heropon', apparently," admitted Lanz. "Plus, no matter how much we go at him, he never goes down. Dadapon's a snuffing tank."

(It was a safer topic of conversation, to be true...but conflict was inevitable.)

xxxx

It was a few days later — with Oleg en route to Mor Ardain with Taion and Eunie in tow, not that Lanz was aware of this — when Lanz's temper finally boiled over. (It was for a good reason, honest.)

It had been at a private dinner; Mòrag and Aegaeon were absent, so Brighid and Sena were the only imperial 'representatives' with them. With Rex, Mythra, Mio, and...Dirk...likewise present, it guaranteed lively conversation...

xx

"It's weird to think about Sena being some workout junkie in Aionios," remarked Mythra between bites.

"Hey," protested Sena with a pout.

"To be fair, you were a bit of a wallflower," remarked Rex, only to get elbowed in the side by Mio. "Not that that's a bad thing, mind you," he quickly corrected.

Sena pouted. "I feel like I'm being picked on."

"It's easy to do. You are so very tiny, you know," joked Dirk with a strangely bitter smile. "So very easy to pick up-" A chunk of meat in sauce smacked his face. "Oi! Whatever happened to royal etiquette?"

"She has my sanction to do so," calmly remarked Brighid, intentionally not looking at Dirk.

(Lanz frowned, but said nothing,)

xx

"So, Mimi...how's Glimglam doing?" asked Sena. "Is she, like...well..."

"Think of your words before speaking, dear," advised Brighid out of routine.

Mio seemed to understand the intent, fortunately. "She's...not too different, I think. Even though she was an Ouroboros, I don't know if her partner would be around to spark any recollection..." Her eyes turned towards her father.

Rex diplomatically sipped his water.

"You know," said Mio.

"I 'might'. Whether Glimmer wants to or not is up to her to decide," he assuaged. "Just like it was yours and Noah's choice to meet each other. Besides, I'd have to clear it with the lad's father before arranging any playdates."

Dirk audibly scoffed, cutting into his Armu steak with just a bit more emphasis. "Glim seems fine to me. Not like she should be in any hurry to change."

At his words, Mio and Rex said nothing. Mythra huffed, looking somewhat tired. Sena looked suddenly a bit despondent, turning towards Brighid to ask about something else as a distraction.

(Lanz's frown deepened, but he still said nothing.)

xx

As the main course wrapped up, Rex asked, "You know, I've always wondered; why is the Imperial Palace called 'Hardhaigh'? Was he some kind of ancestor?"

Brighid, with great deliberation, wiped her mouth clean with a napkin. "According to my journal, I actually looked into the origin of the name a few lives ago. From what I could gather from the Empire's best linguistic historians of the time — which included Adenine, believe it or not — the word is actually traced to an older language which is no longer extant in our day. 'Haigh' apparently once meant something akin to 'a person who lives near an enclosure'." She sipped her tea delicately, letting the words settle. "Adenine was apparently convinced the enclosure was specifically either hedged or fenced, but she lacked the records to prove it one way or another."

"...maybe Adenine can find it out from the World Tree the next time she goes," murmured Rex to himself.

Dirk suddenly snorted. "So you're saying that this is the Palace of People who Live near the Hard Enclosure? Bit on the nose, ain't it?"

"...my past self was under the same impression, admittedly," relented Brighid.

"What, and you aren't?"

Brighid answered Dirk's retort with another pointed sip of her tea. The boy laughed, sounding a tad cocky at the implicit admission.

(Lanz's frown was functionally a scowl; however, he still held his peace.)

xx

It was while they were eating dessert — some kind of pastry, with cream cheese and pepper jelly to dip it in — that Dirk finally asked Lanz a question. "You done looking at me?"

"Say what?" retorted Lanz, not appreciating the accusation.

Mio placed a hand on her brother's shoulder to mollify him, but it was too late. "You've been sneaking glares at me ever since I got here. If you want to say something to me, then say it."

Lanz felt more than saw Sena's imploring gaze (and wasn't that a wild thought, to think that Sena would try and stop a confrontation not just for his sake, but for Dirk's as well. The sheer contradiction was infuriating), even as he replied. "Fine. You've probably gathered that I remember you from Aionios, then."

"Clearly. It's the only reason I can imagine you being so buddy-buddy with Sennie," Dirk blithely said.

(A flash of images filtered through, like photos: Sena, in all the times she called Mio by 'Mimi'; Sena, giving new names to all the kids of Colony 0; Sena, calling him 'Lanzy' with a smile that made him turn away with a strange embarrassment.) The nickname made Lanz's partially metallic skin crawl, even as he bit out, "Then you can't blame me for feeling a bit narky, seeing you gallivanting about. Looking at the person who did so many awful things...and that way you treated Joran...you can't exactly blame me."

Dirk's response, surprisingly, was sheer befuddlement. "Who the hell is Joran?"

(Mio and Sena audibly winced.)

Lanz blinked (more flashes: Joran smiling as rubble collapsed on him; Moebius J smiling as he taunted them all; Joran smiling as he faded away, with Moebius D's scream cut off by the roar of annihilation below the Cloudkeep) before he impulsively rose up. "That tears it," he snarled, teeth bared.

Dirk seemed fine with his response, since he also stood up. "Wanna settle this in the arena? You can't be too much of a scrub if Sennie's bothering with you."

"Fine by me!" yelled Lanz, even as Mio and Sena protested.

"Dirk, no yelling at the dinner table," warned Mythra, who looked intently at her husband.

Rex merely looked his son dead in the eye before cryptically remarking "Sixth Rule of the Salvager's Code. But there won't be any drinking afterwards."

Mythra rolled her eyes at his response, while Mio boggled; Lanz didn't get whatever Rex's reference was. Dirk, however, merely scoffed. "That'll be the day, Dad."

Brighid sighed, seemingly resigned to the sudden turn of events. "If we're doing this, I insist on training weapons only. No Ether Arts, either."

"I won't need 'em," said Dirk with a grin, which only incensed Lanz even more.

And so that's how the two ended up in a training arena; Lanz wielded a two-hand sword that was nearly as long as he was tall; Dirk, meanwhile, held two long daggers which were nearly on the verge of being short swords. Both weapons were constructed of a composite material with blunt edges, so they'd be worth for little more than whaling on each other. As Rex went over the rules — "it's over if we say it's over; if one of us has to stop you, you better hope it ain't Mythra that does it," and words to that effect — Lanz focused on his opponent's snarky grin. (The flash of Consul D, standing in front of the Annihilator, showing his face for the first time; the grins were identical.) It helped him focus, and was much preferable to looking over at Mio and Sena, who were each conflicted in their own way; Mio kept silent, whilst Sena was half-heartedly cheering for them both.

Utterly nauseating; the moment Mythra gave the go-ahead, Lanz roared through the sickening feeling in his stomach, swinging his sword at D (because at this time, at this moment, thinking of him as 'D' felt more proper than thinking of him as 'Dirk').

D dodged to the side, thwacking Lanz in the ribs. There was an audible echo from the collision, which made the blond curious. "Huh. You actually made of metal or something?"

"Stick around and find out!" yelled Lanz as his muscles flexed; fibers made of flesh and synthetic material — all natural, a bizarre miracle of evolution married with the design of two gods long dead — contracted, and his arms swung the sword around in a great arc. D rolled backwards, dodging once more.

Their duel was very formulaic, in its own way; Lanz swung his weapon like a bludgeon, forcing Dirk (no, he's D) to dart in and out of combat in order to get hits in. However, Lanz was durable in a way that seemed to irk D something fierce.

It was during a brief cross-up — Lanz's weapon bearing down against both of D's daggers, their forms crossed to keep the longsword from moving any further — that D let his frustration leak through. "You satisfied yet?"

"What do ya mean," growled Lanz.

"Satisfied that I ain't whoever you're remembering?"

Lanz's pause was for but an instant. (The flash of a memory: not of D, but of Riku, in a forest; Lanz had been insistent that Joran was their enemy. "And who decide that?" queried the Nopon. "Joran ever say himself? That he enemy?") But it was long enough for D to slip past and punch him in the face with a right hook. The image boiled away, replaced by anger. "You dirty mudder," Lanz snarled, throwing his longsword as through it were a javelin.

D rolled to the side, pleased as punch by the turn of events. "You're getting angry-" Pleasure gave way to shock as Lanz loomed over him; he had quickly run forward after throwing the sword, closing the distance with surprising swifitness. A downward punch sent D sprawling, his grip loosening on his weapons. "Ah, arsehole!"

"Takes one to know one, right?!" spat Lanz, glad for the change of pace.

"Piss off," yelled D, putting up his fists with a look that was measured yet simultaneously frenzied. "I don't even know you!"

"Well I know you." That seemed to anger the blond even more, and that was enough for Lanz to throw himself into the fury of fisticuffs. The two combatants were not the most adept at unarmed combat, but they clearly knew how to throw a punch at least.

And yet, as their fists kept flying, something kept bugging Lanz. (Another flash: Riku, in the forest, once again. Lanz was determined to believe that Joran was his enemy. "In absence of complete picture?" retorted an incredulous Riku. "So after meet just once, Lanz make up mind?") That that memory kept coming up was bizarre; this wasn't Joran, but D. He'd been a monster! He'd been an imposing beast in crimson and violent, lording over them with malicious eyes and a maw twisted into a perpetual smile of literal sharpness. He'd...been taller than them all, an overwhelming menace, even at the end.

Yet Lanz was taller than Dirk by a few inches at least.

That incongruity finally seemed to click, as each boy delivered a cross counter to the face of their opponent; that realization also made it click that he was snuffing exhausted. Lanz fell backwards, heaving for air, feeling sore; Dirk fell to his knees, impulsively feeling for a bloody lip. (That was another difference; D had never bled. Even when Eunie and Taion's Interlink form had cut away at Moebius D & J's limbs, there had been a clinical shower of red light, pretty in its own horrible way; not messy and gruesome and real in the way that actual blood was.) "...spark, you punch hard," Lanz admitted.

"Have to, to get through the thick head of yours," growled Dirk, looking upset and confused(?), his fists trembling with a tension that Lanz had never seen with D. The blond seemed to come to a decision, gritting his teeth together before letting his hands — knuckles split open to reveal more blood — fall to the side. "It's bad enough, seeing my sisters change; seeing Mio look at me sometimes like she still can't believe I'm her brother. And Sena? First time we said hello on this trip, she nearly tripped when I called her 'Sennie', when it's all I've called her for years." The tension kept boiling up, even as the boy tried to fight it down. "And now a bloody stranger comes up with an axe to grind over stuff from a life that feels like a nightmare I can only halfway remember but can't forget. Don't you know how infuriating that is?"

(For a brief instant, Dirk's tone had sounded just as malicious as D's. Yet it was gone just as quickly.) "...sounds rough," he admitted, still looking at the blond with a measure of wariness.

"It is," bluntly said Dirk, spitting out a globule of blood and saliva onto the floor. ("You're cleaning that up," chimed in Brighid from the edge of the arena.) "We don't have to be friends. Hell, we don't even have to like each other. But I ain't this D fellow I keep hearing about. I don't want to be him. If you can't accept that...then just stay out of my way." Under his breath, his gaze briefly flickered over towards Mio and Sena, who were both silent (yet strangely looking elsewhere...?). "For their sake, if nothing else."

That was one more incongruity, more important than all the others; D had been self-absorbed in his bloodthirsty mania to an almost ludicrous degree. The thought of D doing something for the sake of someone else seemed laughable. "...I think I can do that," admitted Lanz.

And just like that, some of the tension finally leaked away from Dirk.

"...well, that was a stirring display. A bit sloppy at parts, I'm afraid."

The new voice broke Lanz from his reverie, finally turning towards where Mio and Sena had been looking. "Teach?" The two people by his side then took all of his attention. "Eunie?! Taion!?" Stunned amazement and delight quickly gave way to confusion. "...why do ya have all your Mondo stickin' to her?"

Taion and the woman next to him — wait, was that Nimue? His last memory of her was of a little munchkin — had their hands held out towards a very familiar High Entira; her body was wrapped up in paper dolls, restraining her movements with great efficacy. Only her nose and eyes were visible, but it seemed clear from the muffled yelling that she had some choice words. "Eunie wanted to interfere in your little...spar," admitted Taion, nervously rubbing a hand against the back of his head. "We decided that it was best to let things play out. She...disagreed."

"...yeah, that makes sense," admitted Lanz, belatedly realizing that five of the six Ouroboros were all in the same room. "Man, if Noah were here, we'd have the full set."

("...huh. Full set, eh?" muttered Dirk under his breath, finally turning away from Lanz to limp over towards his father and mother.)

(Resolution had been obtained, to an extent. Whether Lanz and Dirk were willing to change because of it...was to be determined.)

xxxx

Author's Notes: Serious question.

Xenoblade 3 Wiki: "Keves and Agnus mean 'lamb', which hints at the nature of how both nations are sacrificial lambs for the Consuls and their hunger for life energy."

Me: "...so what you're saying is that there's at least one member of Moebius who remembers Hebrew and Latin?"

Xenoblade 3 Wiki: "Maybe? I don't know! We're just posting trivia. Get off my back, bro!"

/also, if you couldn't tell
/I'm playing with a bit of the more 'machiney' bits of how Machina and their hybrid offspring would come into play
/so beyond the partially metallic skin, I'm headcanoning that pureblood Machina have photographic memories to an almost literal extent
/whilst Machina hybrids have it somewhat selectively