A beam of eldritch energy shot over Amelia's shoulder, tinting it violet. As it approached the warden of time, it slowed, grinding to a halt in the air. Kronii's temporal defenses seemed to be evolving as the fight dragged on. She was adapting to Amelia's countermeasure.
But the ball was still in Amelia's court. The workshop was a cluttered mess–even more so after the fight started–so it was difficult to maneuver. Fortunately, that made it much easier to keep close. In the moment Ina's beam was stopped, Amelia slipped through Kronii's defenses and threw a simple combination of punches and kicks. Not as many connected as before.
Kronii's temporal defenses weren't the only thing adapting to Amelia's device. Her movements were getting faster and sharper with each exchange. The advantage Amelia gained when she donned her armor was dwindling.
That wasn't great.
The armor she created as part of her warden countermeasure was a combination and refinement of her previous inventions. The structure of the suit reinforced her limbs and body much more efficiently than her original lattice enhancers. The compounding impact design she'd previously used in a pair of knuckles and a mallet was further miniaturized and refined to increase the power of her punches and kicks even further. All in all, it was a powerful weapon, but it had some serious drawbacks.
Her movements were quicker, her strikes were more powerful, but her body was still that of a normal human being. She wouldn't be able to last running at full capacity for much longer.
All the more reason to push even harder.
Kronii growled and pushed Amelia away with a wild swipe of her sword. Ina summoned clusters of tentacles from the floor and ceiling, filling the newly opened space. They were cut down just as swiftly as they rose up, but Amelia was ready, diving through the stands of wriggling things and under Kronii's blade. She planted her feet and the mechanisms in her armor whirred. The punch she threw should have sent the warden of time sailing towards the wall, but her fist came up short.
The air around her hand shimmered. Lights flashed inside her helmet, warning her of a distortion in time. Her punch was held in stasis. It wouldn't be for long.
Her armor's primary mechanism triggered, producing a distortion of its own to counter Kronii's. That mechanism–the box attached to her belt–was an adaptation of her time machine. It was more compact, but just as powerful. Maybe even more so. It couldn't send Amelia forward or backward in time, but it could still manipulate time enough to counter her opponent's abilities. It whined, running white hot and singing her waist. Her arm was free.
The momentum of her punch continued, pulling her straight into a counter attack. She twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the edge of Kronii's sword. Amelia threw a punch, Kronii swatted at her with the butt of her weapon. Amelia drove her knee at Kronii's gut, but the warden of time deflected the blow with her own leg. The edge of her sword scraped against Amelia's chest plate. The thing was long, but its wielder was apparently perfectly capable of using it in close quarters.
They traded scrapes and blows, but Amelia felt like she was getting the short end of the stick. Kronii didn't slow down no matter how many times Amelia hit her. The armor, though, was going from scuffed to downright totaled. What were shallow scratches just minutes ago were now full-on gouges and fissures.
Amelia dodged a chop and ducked behind Kronii. Ideally, she'd have been able to get a good cheap shot in, but time was too quick, spinning and intercepting the attack. That was just fine.
Violet beams flashed across the workshop and thumped against Kronii's back. The warden of time grunted, but she didn't falter. She spun on the spot, knocking Amelia back with a sharp kick. In the same motion, she raised her hand, holding her palm in Ina's direction. Grinding her teeth, she closed her fist.
Ina froze. Alerts went off inside Amelia's helmet, prompting the activation of her countermeasure, but even as the box started to burn her, Ina remained stuck. Whatever Kronii was doing, it was resisting the interference from the device!
Kronii's back was turned, so Amelia tried interrupting her power the old fashioned way. She rushed in close like a bolt of lightning and threw her whole body into a series of attacks. Kronii twisted, deflecting the attacks with precise swipes of her sword. She incorporated her legs in her defense as well. Her lips were pulled back in a sneer, her teeth tightly clenched, as if the fight was putting real strain on her.
Amelia leapt back and forth, probing for a weakness in Kronii's defenses. She got a few good hits in before the warden shifted her grip on her weapon and warded off her attacker. Amelia braced herself for Kronii to pursue, but she didn't. She stood in place, only half turned to face Amelia. Her free hand was still raised towards Ina.
She couldn't move that hand.
Before the impulse could fully fire from her brain, Amelia leaned into a sprint. One of Kronii's limbs was entirely immobilized. That was as good an opening as she could ask for.
But the warden of time was apparently on the same page. She awkwardly twisted her body around her stuck arm and stomped her foot. The crack of her heel against the floor seemed like the click of a stopwatch as Amelia froze in her tracks. Her device ran even hotter than before, trying to counteract the distortion. But it wasn't working, not entirely.
Amelia's awareness was still in sync with the world, but the rest of her body was stopped just like Ina.
Kronii raised her sword, pointing its tip at Amelia. Sweat dripped from her chin as she spoke through gritted teeth, "I'll admit, I'm impressed. I never imagined I'd have to put forth so much effort to erase a single person." The edge of her sword began to glow with an ominous golden light. She twisted her wrist and the world in front of Amelia began to unravel.
Slowly–agonizingly slowly–the workshop peeled away, revealing a bleached white void. Without being able to blink, let alone turn her head, it looked like the void was eating its way through the world to get to her.
A chill much deeper than her physical self cut a jagged path through Amelia's mind. She was looking at this all wrong. It wasn't the world that was being peeled away. It was her. She was being undone!
"Consider this a mercy," Kronii said. She was breathing heavily. Was time getting tired? "Once my mission is complete, I will not act against your friends. You are the only target the administrator gave me. You are the only one I need to erase."
Amelia heard her device whir even louder, so she willed her body to move. Fortunately, she was able to move her legs. Unfortunately, it felt like she was moving them through a thick syrup. And so she began the slowest race of all time against the end of her own existence.
Kronii wasn't having it. Veins bulged in her face and neck as she tried to maintain the lock. The device ran hotter and hotter, but no matter how hard Amelia pushed, she couldn't move fast enough. The empty white void closed in, nearly blanking out the entire workshop. Oblivion was upon her.
A streak of blue cut across the void and the bleached nothingness evaporated with a crash. Amelia stumbled. Freed from the lock, her momentum suddenly resumed. The device calmed, its whine softening. Sensation returned the next moment, but she was too stunned to feel the pain growing at her waist.
Across the workshop, Ina looked confused. Understandable, considering she'd been fully frozen in time. Kronii was nowhere to be seen.
Amelia turned, following the path of the blur that had apparently freed her. One of the workshop walls had collapsed and a cloud of dust obscured the hole. A shadow stood within the dust. It was too short to be Kronii.
Gura dispersed the cloud with a powerful swing of her trident. She looked back at Amelia and smiled. She looked exhausted, like she hadn't slept in days. There were bags under her eyes and her skin had a sickly gray pallor. Amelia would have thought she was sick if not for that smile.
Whatever she'd just been through, it had clearly taken its toll, and odds were good it wasn't over yet, but they didn't have time to worry about that now.
Amelia rushed over to her, doing her best to ignore the compounding strain on her muscles, joints, and bones. Ina wasn't far behind. Together, they faced Kronii, who was picking herself out of a pile of bricks and concrete.
The fight had escaped the confines of the workshop.
"We're going to need another barrier," Amelia said. If Kronii had been thrown through any other wall, she would have ended up in one of the neighboring buildings.
Ina breathed in through clenched teeth. "Alright. But if you guys need help, I won't hesitate to drop it and join in."
"That's fair. Thanks, Ina." Amelia turned to Gura. "We're going to finish this fight. You up to it?"
Gura closed her eyes and placed a hand on her chest. After a few moments of silence, she nodded. "I've got your back, Watson."
+ Shift +
Kronii didn't bother dusting herself off. She was humiliated. Thoroughly so. She'd finally made a decision. She'd finally trusted her actions to the whims of the administrator. This farce should have ended with that choice.
A thin violet shell tinged with Sana's cosmic energy rose up around the area surrounding the workshop as Amelia and Gura stepped out onto the street. She wasn't just fighting Amelia and Ina'Nis anymore. Bae had failed, and now the shark had joined the fray. Worse yet, even if they weren't fighting directly, Sana and Irys were in their corner. The odds were stacked against Kronii.
But she was time. It was her duty to watch over the progression of reality. She possessed the authority to stop and inspect any point she pleased. A few mortal beings would need far more than the moral support of some council members to stand a chance against her.
And yet . . .
Amelia charged towards Kronii much more quickly than should have been possible. Her strikes carried a weight far greater than a human being should have been capable of. Kronii could catch and deflect every hit, but each time she did, they seemed to land harder.
Gura appeared in the midst of the exchange, forcing Kronii to split her attention. But she couldn't pull away from Amelia. The shark spun her trident and slammed the butt of the weapon into Kronii's side. The force of the blow was in a different dimension entirely and sent her bouncing across the pavement.
The mortals refused to give her time to recover, chasing her down before she could find her footing. This was no execution. It wasn't a demonstration. It wasn't even a fight. With both Amelia and Gura bearing down on her, Kronii had no choice but to abandon her justifications. There was no room for them in this situation.
She lashed out, swinging her sword without regard to her surroundings. The mortals stopped short, narrowly avoiding her wild blade, but they were not her target. The impact of her swings lagged behind the motion, and just as her opponents stopped, the ground beneath their feet erupted and threw them into the air.
Gura was a major problem, but Kronii was not a murderer. She would not target anyone other than Amelia unless her hands were tied. Elegance, poise, pride . . . none of it mattered, but this was her conviction. She would hold on to that at the very least.
She took aim at Amelia and swung. The air rippled as time itself split open along the path of her blade. The shockwave slammed into the time traveler, but that damnable device on her belt shrieked and glowed white hot. The attack was repelled, but the shockwaves continued past their target. The asphalt rippled and the barrier wavered. Buildings just outside of its protection shook.
That device was miraculous, but it had to have a limit. Kronii pulled back for another swing, but she wasn't fast enough. Gura touched down and immediately launched herself into a clash with Kronii.
The shark pressured her with impeccable technique. Keeping up took everything Kronii had, and the strength of her attacks made Amelia's feel weak. Bae had been keeping this monster in check?!
Amelia could rejoin the fray at any second, so Kronii made a desperate play. She reached beyond reality and took hold of the rigid filament of time. With Gura's present between her fingers, she squeezed tight. The shark stopped, but only so long as Kronii dedicated a limb to keeping her frozen. That was fine. Three limbs were all she needed to deal with the time traveler.
Kronii searched the street where Amelia should have landed, but only caught a glimpse of reflective armor before she was rocked by a heavy tackle. Pain reverberated through her chest as she slid back. She didn't even have a chance to catch her breath before Amelia continued her charge. To make matters worse, that one blow broke the time lock. Gura rejoined the fight without skipping a beat.
Keeping up with both of them at once pushed Kronii's senses to their limits. Bit by bit it started to feel like her physical form was unraveling. Every blow landed, every blow deflected, every blow dodged fatigued her further. It wasn't right. It didn't make sense.
Every answer she reached for fell apart as soon as she found it. The justifications she used to keep fighting were getting more and more shallow.
Follow orders. Do as the administrator commands. Don't think.
The potential of the present is still alive and well! Those words did much more damage than their fists had.
The rudimentary control her body had would not suffice, so Kronii stepped outside of her physical self, returning a portion of her consciousness to time. She perceived the line. In one direction it extended back to the beginning of all things. In the other direction . . . there was nothing. The future that was once there was no more. The present was as far into the future as she or anyone else could see or go to.
On a whim, Kronii stopped the progression of time. It wouldn't last long, even with this higher level of control, but that was alright. She only wanted a few moments to think.
Returning to her body, she stepped past her opponents. Trying to justify the administrator's decision hadn't borne any fruit. Perhaps a new perspective was necessary.
The ear-splitting whine of Amelia's device cut through the temporal distortion. The march of time would resume very soon, regardless of Kronii's will. She was once again astounded by the little machine. No matter how she tried to exercise her authority, it worked to confound her. Much like Amelia herself, she thought.
Kronii had dismissed the time traveler's motivations as pure selfishness. It was another shallow justification. What if there was truth to the things she'd been saying?
The distortion collapsed and time resumed. Kronii wasn't sure what sort of face she was making, but when Amelia saw it, she scoffed.
"It's too late for regrets," she said, rushing in to attack with Gura.
Those words shouldn't have been coming out of her mouth. Those were for Kronii to say, surely.
They slammed into the warden much the same as they had been; Gura occupied her sword with quick swipes of her trident and occasionally swept her legs with her tail. At the same time, Amelia aimed for weak spots in Kronii's defenses and struck with powerful punches and kicks.
"You should have stopped me when you had the chance!" Amelia said as she ducked in and out of Kronii's range.
That was true, of course, but doing so would have defeated the purpose. It wouldn't be right to just erase her and be done with it. All of her hopes needed to be dashed because . . . Kronii's mind slowed to a crawl. She'd had a reason, hadn't she? It wasn't just to put off erasing Amelia for as long as possible. That couldn't–
An armored fist dug into Kronii's stomach, lifting her off the ground. Without moving, the same fist delivered another blow that sent her flying back. Amelia followed up without delay, chasing Kronii down and continuing to pummel her.
"You should have stopped me before I rebuilt the time machine!" Each word seemed to carry the weight of her punches. "You should have stopped me before we defeated the order!" Kronii could barely defend herself. Her limbs weren't moving the way they should. Her mind couldn't keep up. "You should have stopped me before I built the damn machine in the first place!" A spear-like kick sent Kronii tumbling to the ground.
In truth, the future was as uncertain to Kronii as it was to anyone else. Her dominion over time did not give her the ability to see what hadn't happened yet. She was not given a chance to explain this, however.
Gura leapt on her almost as soon as her back hit the ground. Trident met sword, and they pushed against each other with all of their strength. Laying flat, Kronii could barely hold the shark back.
Amelia stepped up beside them, but she didn't throw any attack. Instead, she knelt down close to Kronii's face and said, "Why didn't you stop me, or at least warn me when I went back in time? You must have known what would happen if I was successful."
"I was . . ." Kronii's grip faltered slightly and the prongs of the trident inched closer to her neck. She had been asleep when Amelia's party clashed with the order, her consciousness suppressed to allow for wide-scale management of time. "If I had been able to act, I would have," she said through clenched teeth.
"What was stopping you?" Amelia's face was still covered, but Kronii could hear her grimace.
Kronii opened her mouth to explain her universe mandated hibernation, but a different question stopped her voice. She had been asleep when the future was changed, and thus erased, but the administrator controlled when the council slept. The administrator didn't sleep. The administrator could have woken her and allowed her to stop Amelia before it was too late.
Why didn't they?
In response to Kronii's silence, Amelia stood up and took a deep breath. Then she shouted up into the sky, "I understand that what I did destroyed the future! I bear the responsibility! I'm sorry that so much was lost for me to achieve my goal, but I will not throw away what I've gained because I feel bad!" It was the same arrogant platitudes she'd been spewing since the fight began.
But was that really so bad? Kronii wasn't sure anymore. In fact, she felt more admiration than hatred when she listened to those words.
Something was indeed wrong here, but it wasn't Amelia or Gura. It was Kronii herself.
"The future I know is gone," Amelia continued in a softer voice, "but that isn't the end of the world. A new future will come to be. Time will continue to pass."
Kronii stared up at her and her lips moved automatically. "What about the people who were lost? What about their futures? Their potentials?" Her heart wasn't in those questions, she knew.
Amelia knelt once again. "The same people might not be born again, but that doesn't mean new people won't be either." Her voice was softer now, mostly a whisper. She placed a shaking hand on the hilt of Kronii's sword. "There will be new people who will possess new potentials. And with the order's apocalypse averted, they will all have a chance to flourish."
Breathing heavily now, Amelia placed her other hand on Kronii's. "I want to keep on living. I want to make sure the future doesn't play out the way it did before. I want to ensure that those new potentials have a chance to grow and reach fruition." She squeezed, but Kronii barely felt the pressure. "If that means I have to carry the burden of a lost future for the rest of my life, then so be it."
Strength left Kronii's arms and she realized that Gura hadn't been pushing for a while. She looked up into Amelia's armored face, seeing it as a representation of her conviction. It was a symbol of her will to defy time itself in order to keep living. But was it really alright to let this single person carry such a burden? Was she truly wholly responsible? Surely not.
The chain of events that led to the erasure of an entire future was not so simple. There were so many factors at play that Amelia couldn't possibly be held above them all. All she did was travel back in time, something that Kronii herself declared was not deviant.
The violet hues of the barrier fell away. Gura let Kronii stand in time for her to see Irys and Sana approach. She met their eyes, expecting a standoff, but that wasn't what she saw. They were worried. About her. Kronii was at a loss.
Irys was the first to step forward. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wish I could have given you reasons to trust us. But all I can really say is that the administrator is wrong. What they want you and the others to do is wrong."
"You don't have to do what they say," Sana added. If anyone could say so, it would be her.
Kronii didn't have to think about it. She'd done plenty of that already. "I agree," she said, simply. She dismissed her sword. The fight was over.
Amelia's armor flashed, disappearing in the same manner it had appeared. Kronii wasn't sure how it was supposed to work, but she figured it was all stored in that little box on her belt somehow. Instead of standing up, though, she collapsed.
The clothing around her waist was singed black where it hadn't melted away completely, revealing severe burns on her skin. The joints in her legs, visible through large tears in her tights, were swollen and purple. Her hands were damaged just as badly.
Kronii couldn't look away. Nothing she did could have caused those kinds of injuries. Was that the price for using her device?
Irys was once again the first to make a move. She rushed to Amelia's side and held her hands over the battered time traveler. "I don't have much in the way of actual power," she said mostly to Gura and Ina'Nis, who had also rushed over, "and I don't have the capacity to heal wounds directly, but as hope I might be able to encourage her body to heal itself with enough time."
But time was something she didn't have. Amelia's injuries were obviously severe. Her breathing was weak, her skin was pale, and there was no telling how badly she was bleeding internally. Kronii had been right all along. A mortal couldn't possibly stand against a fundamental force of the universe.
"Fauna can help!" Sana offered. She too lacked any ability to heal. It wasn't a bad idea. Life itself could certainly revitalize a damaged body, but there were two major issues. First, there was no guarantee that Fauna would agree to help. If her mindset was anything like Kronii's then she'd have no compunction about leaving the other's targets to their fates, even if she wouldn't act against them directly. And second, there still wasn't enough time.
Amelia was going to succumb to these injuries, and they all knew it. But Irys didn't give up. Neither did Sana, Gura, or Ina'Nis. They didn't turn away. They cried, but they didn't despair. They held firmly to the hope that something could be done.
Kronii sighed. This was exactly what she'd been sent to do. And yet . . .
She took hold of Amelia's present and squeezed. Amelia stopped.
Irys looked up at her, tears in her eyes. Her face was pale with worry, not only for the time traveler, but for herself as well. She wasn't sure if she was able to help. That wasn't a face Kronii wanted her friends making.
"I'll keep her stopped until you can convince Fauna to help," Kronii said. "If that doesn't pan out . . . Well, I'll hold her until you find another solution." As expressions brightened and arms spread to deliver unwanted hugs, she added, "I agree with you about the administrator, but I haven't agreed to join you yet. I'll use this time to think about it, though."
Thankfully, the hugs retreated. In their place came words of gratitude. It was pleasant to see Irys smile after such a long time.
Gura and Ina'Nis thanked Kronii for helping their friend as if they hadn't just been fighting desperately against her. It was . . . strange.
But not unwelcome.
+ Break +
Death and a phoenix moved through the city with surprising nonchalance. They should have been aware of the threat bearing down on them, yet they continued on as any other pedestrians. Did they not realize they were being watched?
Cities were Mumei's domain. She watched them through the windows of the buildings. She watched them through the lamps lining the street. She watched them pass from drains and passing cars. There was nowhere they could go that she wouldn't see. And she was not alone.
The color of civilization was ubiquitous here, so the hue of nature stuck out like a sore thumb wherever it took root. The occasional passing of a bird. The odd bush planted at the side of the street. A feral cat peeking out of an alley. Her avenues were few and far between, but Fauna made due, much to Mumei's chagrin.
As their queries passed near a median with a small, gangly cluster of trees, civilization locked eyes with nature. Not yet, Fauna seemed to say as a breeze rustled the leaves. Mumei clicked her tongue. Neither of them was excited about his arrangement, but they were both wise enough to see the necessity of it.
If they didn't work together to achieve the administrator's goal, they'd be driven to get in each other's way. As such, they were forced to cooperate. They coordinated their timing, arguing through the buzzing of insects and the honking of horns. Each time their targets stopped to ask for directions or decide their next destination, they contemplated launching their attack. And each time, Fauna shook her head.
Kiara wasn't standing close enough to a bush. Calli was standing between Kiara and a patch of grass. There isn't enough green nearby. One excuse after another. Was Fauna truly up to it? It wasn't like she actually needed an existing natural feature nearby to attack. If necessary, she could create one at any time.
Assuming Mumei allowed her to do so in the city, of course.
Kiara ducked into a clothing store and emerged with a bag. A few blocks down, she did it again. It was curious behavior considering the situation. Fauna was grinding her teeth all the while. None of the shops had anything in the way of foliage.
The third time Kiara stopped took a little longer than the others. Calli waited outside, in the perfect position to snatch up if not for Fauna's watchful eye surveying the street around her. Her senses were sharp enough to know they were being watched. It wouldn't do her any good when the time came.
When Kiara finally emerged from the store, her appearance had changed drastically. Gone were the comfortable, stylish clothes she'd been wearing. In their place she wore black. Her hair which had been allowed to fall around her shoulders was now tied up in a tight ponytail. Calli looked her up and down and nodded.
They shared a look that likely held some deeper meaning which Mumei couldn't pick up on, and then the unexpected happened. Kiara started walking down the street. Calli didn't. The traffic lights all turned red as Mumei held her breath. Was this the moment? Had the time finally arrived?
Just before Kiara reached the end of the block, Mumei made her decision. "I'm going," she communicated to Fauna.
Nature resisted. "The nearest tree is around the corner. I can't manifest with enough power right here."
"You have my blessing, so just make what you need. Let's go!"
Mumei sent herself into the pavement at Calli's feet. Fauna followed suit, filling the cracks in the sidewalk with new growth. In perfect sync, they emerged. The sight of Calli's eyes widening as she realized what was happening gave Mumei chills. Death was right where she wanted her.
Calli brought her hand to her mouth. That was fine. She could call out to Kiara all she liked. It was too late for them. Mumei breathed deep and prepared to expand the layout of the city in the same way she expanded her lungs.
"Kiara! They took the bait!"
That . . . wasn't the reaction Mumei was looking for. What the heck was that supposed to mean?!
Calli vanished, then reappeared behind Mumei a moment later. Instead of taking advantage of Mumei's confusion and attacking, though, she grabbed Fauna and disappeared once again.
Did they just get . . . reverse ambushed?
"Hey there," Kiara trotted up and greeted Mumei with a cheerful smile. "So, I have this errand to run. Care to join me?"
The situation was progressing too quickly for Mumei to keep pace. Calli and Fauna were still around–the reaper's little trick couldn't fool the senses of a member of the council–so it was possible to push things back on track. All she had to do was focus on that bubble death was hiding in and . . .
Kiara looped her arm around Mumei's and started pulling. To Mumei's surprise, it didn't take much effort to move her. The tension that she'd been holding onto melted in the phoenix's presence. "This isn't how it's supposed to go," Mumei grumbled.
Kiara wasn't having it, though. "It's fine, it's fine. Just indulge me for a bit."
There was no opportunity to refuse. Her feet were already moving. Kiara walked at a purposeful clip, practically dragging Mumei half a block. Calli and Fauna followed close behind, though they couldn't be seen. They'd been completely caught up in their targets' tempo.
"Where are we going," Mumei eventually asked.
Kiara hesitated. She pressed her lips into a thin line. Was there some reason she did not want to answer? This wasn't some sort of trap, was it? The administrator had ordered Mumei to erase the embodiment of death, not the phoenix, so she would have liked to trust the woman leading her along.
If this were a trap, there would be no need to bring both members of the council along. Furthermore, there wouldn't be anywhere they could go to give them an advantage if their goal was to fight.
Mumei eyed the clothes Kiara had changed into. It was a flattering dress, hugging her figure in a tasteful way. Her shoulders and arms were covered by a cropped coat. With her hair tied back, she looked like she might be attending some sort of event. But what kind? Was the color significant?
All black . . . Was she mourning something?
Mumei nearly tripped over herself when Kiara suddenly stopped in front of a stout, somber looking building. There was a sign hanging from the door, but it was obvious why they were there.
"I know this is sudden, but I have a funeral to attend," Kiara said, confirming Mumei's suspicions. She didn't force civilization to follow as she pushed through the door.
So that was their game. Mumei wasn't entirely sure what exactly they wanted to accomplish by bringing her here, but they were obviously scheming. Well, it didn't really matter. Mumei was not afraid of death. If their goal was to frighten her somehow, then they didn't understand what they were up against.
She followed Kiara through the door, confident. Funeral homes were not places she knew very well. They were a necessity in a world where death was inevitable, but their existence marked the end of life. She wanted nothing to do with them.
The interior carried an odor that Mumei expected. It was sterile, scrubbed clean of anything resembling life. It burned deep in her sinuses. The moment she stepped past the reception area and into the funeral space, however, the air changed. The building was by no means spacious–fitted into the tight confines of the city as it was–but the main hall managed to accommodate dozens of people, young and old. The sterile smell disappeared with so many warm bodies adding their own colognes to the mix.
Everyone was dressed in various shades of black, and many faces were marred by red, puffy eyes, but everyone she made eye contact with smiled at her. A sign near the hall's entrance revealed the name of the deceased. Antoni Haust. He was 84 years old.
Images floated through Mumei's mind. She did not recognize the man's face, nor did she know his name, but she was the guardian of civilization. She saw tables and chairs, bed frames and doors, cabinets and chests. And she saw instruments, small and large, stained and polished to shine as brilliantly as the strings stretched across their lengths. The deceased had been a carpenter.
Kiara appeared beside Mumei and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Give me a moment. I'll be right back," she said before cutting across the hall. She approached a casket, open, and smiled down at the cadaver held within. It was the sort of smile that made Mumei itch. It wasn't a reflection of joy or pride. It was sad. It was mournful. It was a minimal comfort in the void left by death.
Mumei made her way to the edge of the hall and leaned against the wall. Observing from the sidelines was far more comfortable than being in the thick of tragedy. That was what this was; a tragedy. Loss. More specifically, it was the loss of wisdom. The deceased had left behind countless works, great and insignificant, and he likely left records of his travels and experiences. Considering the conveniences of the modern era, he may have even recorded videos of his process. No matter how well he planned for his eventual demise, though, he couldn't have accounted for every question that could be asked.
That was how progress stalled. A culture could experience a renaissance, flourishing amidst advancements in the arts and sciences, but when the geniuses who facilitated that enlightenment died, there would be a lull. Sure, they could take on students, pass on their knowledge as best they could–ideally–but more often than not, those who remained were left scratching their heads. It could, and had, taken generations for another to be born with the right upbringing or mindset to see what those who came before them saw.
Mumei shivered. This was the worst sort of environment for her. Maybe the plan had been to weaken the council members by exposing them to discomfort. If that was the case, it was not only foolish, it was also infuriating.
Perhaps now was the time to turn the tables. Kiara was distracted, mingling with the other mourners. Mumei could force her way into Calli's pocket dimension and take her far away. She proposed the idea, communicating silently with Fauna, but mother nature hesitated.
She was curious?! Well, that was just great. Without Fauna's cooperation, she couldn't move.
She wanted to give Kiara the benefit of the doubt. There had to be a point in coming to this place beyond making the guardian of civilization miserable.
So Mumei closed her eyes and ears, blocking the misery out, and waited.
+ Shift +
Fauna tapped her foot. When Calli pulled her into this "limbo space" she was intrigued, but her patience was wearing thin. Watching Mumei slumped against a wall, drowning in misery, did not feel as good as she would have thought. So what was the point of all of this?
Kiara was right there. Her guard was down. She was vulnerable. But Mumei was too close. Their arrangement was once again tying their hands. It wasn't all bad, though.
Fauna directed her attention to the embodiment of death itself. She was standing aside, chatting with an elderly man, the one whose body was currently occupying the casket at the end of the hall. They were smiling and laughing as the man pointed out specific people among the mourners and reminisced. Life reaching its natural end was a beautiful sight to behold. That was something Mumei never could grasp.
The guardian of civilization had existed just as long as the other members of the council. Life was such that civilization was an inevitability. They were entangled forces. There was even a time, at the dawn of intelligent life, when Fauna and Mumei had worked together closely.
They would watch fledgling communities grow and merge with others. Small families became expansive tribes. Roughshod settlements evolved into villages, some of which continued to expand over time. Observing the ways civilization worked in tandem with the nature around it to flourish was exciting. Fun, even.
When exactly had they stopped sharing notes?
Calli left the deceased in solemn contemplation and stood shoulder to shoulder with Fauna. "His time's almost up. Anything you want to say to him before he passes?"
Was there anything to say? She was life itself, so it wouldn't be entirely inappropriate, but that was beside the point. Calli was trying to keep Fauna marching to her rhythm.
"What's the plan, here?" Fauna said quietly so as to give the dead man peace in the end. "What do you two hope to accomplish with this setup?"
Calli shrugged, dashing Fauna's expectations. "We worked out that the best way to deal with you would be to switch opponents, but that was as far as we got in the planning stage. This part," she gestured vaguely to the funeral hall around them, "this is all Kiara. Apparently she received an invitation a while back. At this point, I'm just following her lead."
Fauna crossed her arms with a huff. It figured that an unnatural immortal soul would come up with a stalling tactic. She glared at the phoenix, mingling with proper mortals like she was one of them. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Calli staring too. It wasn't resentment reflected in the reaper's eyes, though. It was admiration.
"I don't get it. Why is death itself so friendly with someone who never truly dies?"
Calli frowned and faced Fauna with an eyebrow cocked. "You realize how narrow that interpretation is, right?" Fauna bristled, but curiosity held her retort. Calli continued with a sigh, "Yeah, Kiara has an undying soul, but she still dies. She does it all the time, actually. The way I see it, Kiara's understanding of death is as deep, if not deeper, than mine."
"That doesn't change the fact that she continues to persist after death. That isn't how life is supposed to be."
"Again with the narrow interpretation. Are you sure you're actually the embodiment of nature?" Calli chuckled, but the remark cut deep for some reason. "Try looking at it this way: death is a natural end point for life, right? Well, it pulls double duty as a starting point, too. Life, as a rule, contributes to the proliferation of itself, whether that be by giving birth or becoming nourishment. All that's different in Kiara's case is that the cycle is self-contained."
That . . . made more sense than Fauna was prepared for. But she wouldn't be swayed so easily. "A self-contained cycle is itself unnatural. It still involves rising from death, something that should not be." Her argument was starting to feel thinner, but she could not back down. The administrator had made their decision.
"You say that, but you know I'm right. Give it some time and you'll come around," Calli said. She was indeed correct, but . . .
Fauna eyed Mumei growing more and more miserable. "I can't refute that. Change in nature is gradual. Your arguments will eventually erode my reasons for following the administrator's orders, I think. But civilization is a volatile thing. If you push too hard against the path it is on, it is liable to explode."
+ Shift +
Mumei opened her eyes as Kiara broke away from the groups in mourning. Joining the guardian of civilization by the wall, she sighed. Her voice quivered ever so slightly. The emotional toll of death was heavy, but she was handling it well.
It was perplexing. Why did she come here? Why did she put herself through this? What was the point?
As if sensing Mumei's confusion, Kiara spoke softly, "I only met Mr. Haust one time. It was decades ago. I was a different person, then, dabbling in interior design. I fancied myself the stylish sort, and some of my colleagues sang his praises as an up and coming name. So, I commissioned him to create a dining set. It never hurts to make connections with potential, you know?" She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Guess what he did when he saw my ideas."
Mumei didn't bother responding. She still didn't see the point.
"He laughed at me! Can you believe that?! I paid him to bring my vision to life and he raked me over the coals. And then he didn't even build what I wanted!" Kiara puffed her cheeks, reflecting on the indignity. But she didn't look unhappy. Quite the opposite, in fact. "The only thing he got right was the color. I was upset, as you might imagine, but when he set up his work in the space I was preparing, it all came together so well I couldn't say anything. I handed him a check, he thanked me for my patronage, and then I never saw him again. Though, he did highlight the piece he made for me in his portfolio afterward."
So that was it. However brief their interaction was, he left a lasting impact. That answered the why, but Mumei still wasn't satisfied. There were probably many similar stories being shared by others in the hall.
As with the deceased, she didn't know any of the people attending this funeral, but she could see their contributions. More than half the attendees were carpenters and artists who studied under Antoni Haust. She saw their works and the ways they differed from their teacher's. She saw the style that inspired them all being warped without his guidance.
"How far could civilization have progressed if not for death," Mumei said, crossing her arms. Kiara cocked her head, but did not interrupt. "Look around. The man in that coffin touched so many lives, had such a resounding positive impact on the people he met, and now he's gone. If he'd kept living, how many more people could he have inspired? How many more great works could he have completed? All of this sorrow could have been avoided if not for death."
Mumei looked into Kiara's eyes, unblinking. She challenged her to find a flaw in her reasoning. She was confident that it wouldn't happen. An undying soul, one who had seen so much death, so much wisdom lost, would surely sympathize.
But Kiara shook her head.
"Look again," she said. "Really watch these people. Hear what they have to say."
What was the point? It was clear she'd only hear the sadness of someone's passing, and the confusion of how to move forward without them. Nonetheless, Mumei did as Kiara requested. She opened her ears and allowed the various conversations happening throughout the hall to reach her.
Immediately, she was stricken by the presence of laughter. And not the forced kind. Dozens of people reminisced, recalling their encounters with Antoni Haust in much the same way Kiara had. Not all of them were entirely pleasant, and yes, there were tears, but not a tear was shed unaccompanied by a smile. Genuine expressions of happiness and gratitude.
More in line with her expectations, there were also several discussions of the man's work and his legacy. They talked over his many techniques and how those practices were reflected in their own work. But it was already happening. Mumei could see the breadth of Haust's works and those of his students and admirers, and it was clear that his knowledge was already being distorted.
"None of them truly understand. They claim to have learned what the deceased had to teach, but even now they're misinterpreting what he gave them." Mumei confronted Kiara with the reality playing out before their eyes. "People are filters for knowledge. With so many different minds processing the information, it's inevitable that the things he's left behind will be misconstrued."
Kiara sighed and slid down onto the floor. She ran her fingers through her hair, and then patted the floor beside her. It was an invitation. One that Mumei accepted.
For a while, they sat in silence, absorbing the harsh truth. It wasn't that Mumei was happy to be right–she wasn't–it was simply a matter of fact. Her nature as the embodiment of civilization gave her a broad enough perspective to see it for what it was. The administrator understood as well. Why else would they give Mumei the responsibility of erasing death itself?
Eventually, Kiara rested the back of her head against the wall. "So, you aren't wrong. Technically. There'll be misunderstandings. Things will get lost. But that isn't the end of the world." She waved her hand towards the mourners. "Rather than worrying about the work that isn't completed, why not support the new things that are just getting started? The carpenters here might not be able to perfectly recreate Haust's style or match his quality, but they'll take what they learned from him and incorporate it into their own work."
More of the same. There really was no alternative.
And yet, Kiara continued, "Or maybe they won't. There's no rule saying they have to follow in his footsteps. They can deviate and follow their own path." She paused, as if the point she was trying to make was taking shape as she spoke. "Yeah, there are going to be lulls in growth and progress when great people pass, but a lull is not a full stop."
She twisted where she sat, turning to face Mumei with her whole self. "How about this: What if the great ancient architects never died? What if they continued to live into the present day and lead the design sense of their communities all the while? Would things really have progressed further than they have? Wouldn't the world simply have stayed the way it was when those architects were supposed to have died?"
"Don't be ridiculous. That isn't how progress works. Obviously things would change . . . over . . ." Mumei tried to argue, but found her reasoning lacking. Had she not occupied her thoughts with what-if's just like that since receiving her mission? She'd always just assumed that civilization would end up where it was no matter what. But then, didn't that defeat her own point?
Kiara flashed a half smile. "The great minds of history are indeed great, but in the end, it's the people who adopt and change their ideas, free of their influence and mindset, that define how civilization grows. I've seen it myself, so I'm sure. Even the greatest minds start off learning from somebody else." She stood up and helped Mumei to her feet as well. "And not for nothing, Calli has assured me on many occasions that those who escape this mortal coil are often excited by how things might change once they're gone."
That was . . . comforting, in a way. But something wasn't sitting right. Mumei racked her brain trying to resolve what she'd just heard–something that should have been obvious to her–with the assumptions she'd been operating under. The administrator themself assured her that death was the problem. They'd told her that she was right to reject it.
Why would they do that?
Mumei pushed off the wall, her mind a maelstrom. She wandered out of the hall and through the funeral home's front doors. She could hear Kiara's voice calling after her as she stepped out onto the street, but it was distant.
There, amidst the city, she let herself expand. Her presence stretched over the roads and buildings, and put pressure on the people. In mere minutes, she'd cleared the pavement of both pedestrians and vehicles. The only people left were Mumei herself, Kiara, and Calli and Fauna just outside of living awareness.
"Mumei . . ." Kiara said. The softness of her voice matched the gentle hand she placed on the guardian of civilization's shoulder.
Something was terribly wrong with all of this. Kiara was right. What she'd said was the truth, but acknowledging that sent a sharp pain through Mumei's psyche. It was like her very existence was rejecting those ideas. Why?
Kiara, an undying soul who exemplified Mumei's ideals, spoke to the core of her being, and yet that very core was trying to refuse her.
But of course she would. The administrator had given her clear instructions. Accepting Kiara's explanation would be the same as accepting the necessity of death. It would be the same as rejecting the reasons she had for following the administrator's orders in the first place.
That, more than anything, sent a chill down her spine.
Mumei turned to Kiara and gently took her hand from her shoulder. "Thank you for trying to help me see clearly. And I'm sorry."
The patch of asphalt beneath Kiara's feet sank deep, deep into the ground. She did not fall and there was no time for her to recognize what was happening. The street where she stood simply became much lower all of a sudden.
With the phoenix safely out of the way, Mumei turned again, bringing her face to face with death itself. Calli could see where this was going. Good. That saved time.
A seething hatred raged within Mumei, one that she could see was not her own. But she had no authority to challenge it.
It was too late to change course now.
+ Shift +
Nothing changed, outwardly, but the city around Fauna was suddenly a very hostile place. Every strip of asphalt, every pane of glass, every bar of steel was menacing. And all of that malice was aimed directly at Calliope Mori.
Fauna's body moved mostly on its own, positioning her between death and the guardian of civilization. Even as she exerted her own pressure to try and thwart Mumei's aggression, though, she didn't really understand why. Was she acting out of affection for death as an aspect of her own domain? Was it disdain for civilization? She didn't think so. Not anymore.
In that moment, it was clear that allowing Mumei to do as she pleased would give Fauna enough time to erase Kiara. They could both complete the administrator's orders. It was perfect.
But seeing Mumei in such a state was too much. Was this what the administrator wanted? Fauna looked into her friend's eyes and saw a conflict that she couldn't quite parse.
Calli stepped past Fauna, her face set in rigid determination. She was clearly tense, but Fauna couldn't sense anything resembling aggression in her.
"You should stay back," Fauna said, but Calli kept walking. "I can't protect you if you throw yourself at her!"
Calli didn't even look at Fauna. She spoke to Mumei instead. "Why did you wait until now to try and get rid of me?"
"Fauna's been in my way," Mumei responded, her words oozing with the aggression Calli lacked.
"That's not what I mean and you know it," Calli said, shaking her head. I've been operating with the blessing of death since life began. I've apparently been a thorn in your side since the inception of civilization, so why now?"
Mumei froze, her eyes wide. She wasn't able to answer. Fauna was sure because she was feeling the same suffocating uncertainty. Kiara had been around for almost as long as Calli had, but she'd never felt the need to end her. And even when they'd had disagreements, Fauna hadn't ever wanted to get in Mumei's way before. Why now?
The road rippled and the city flexed. Tall buildings on all sides started to bend down towards them. The expansion that Mumei had used to separate their targets before appeared to be reversed. The city was getting smaller, tighter. Like a noose.
Mumei finally took her eyes off of Calli and looked at Fauna. "When exactly did we start going for each other's throats?"
A pillar of fire erupted out of the hole Kiara was trapped in, but Fauna barely noticed. It wasn't just that she wanted to protect Calli. It wasn't just that she wanted to destroy Kiara. Fauna had held a deep, burning resentment towards Mumei of all people. Why? She hadn't felt that way the last time the administrator granted them awareness.
Pieces started falling into place, but the more of the picture Fauna could see, the more it hurt. She almost doubled over as the truth came into view.
"Look out!"
Mumei was staring at her intensely, but she wasn't the one who spoke. Dazed, Fauna spun just in time to see a large bus barreling towards her. No, it was racing towards Calli. Fauna was just in the way. And she couldn't move. And there wasn't enough nature to escape into. And she could see her own shock reflected in the broad windshield as it came upon her.
Her reflection became a blur, as did the rest of the world, as something slammed into her. All of a sudden, she was enveloped in a gentle heat and the horrible sound of scraping metal. When the world stopped spinning, she was greeted by the sight of Kiara holding her tightly.
The bus laid in two long pieces further down the road. Calli must have split the thing in two when it reached her.
Mumei was still looking at Fauna, though her expression had changed drastically. She was mortified, fear and grief that made Fauna's heart ache were reflected in her eyes. Civilization's gaze fell to her hands.
Kiara set Fauna down and stepped between her and Mumei. That may have been the biggest shock of them all. She could so casually protect the one trying to end her undying existence? Unbelievable.
The urge to snuff out her flame right then and there reared its head as a white hot pain deep in Fauna's psyche. She resisted, though. Acting on that impulse didn't feel right. Especially not after seeing what it did to Mumei.
The city pulled in even closer. The buildings around them leaned more steeply, nearly closing them in a metropolitan shell. Mumei was drawing in on herself.
Calli leveled her scythe at her, but she did not swing. Instead, she asked another question. "Not sure if you even can at this point, but tell me, how much of this is what you want, and how much is the administrator?"
Something snapped deep inside Fauna. It went beyond her brain and even her mind. It was something in the furthest reaches of her existence. A truth that she had been avoiding. Or one that had been obscured. Why hadn't she noticed it before?
How could she have wanted to destroy Kiara so badly? How could she, the keeper of nature, life itself, wish for the demise of any living thing?!
A hand entered her field of vision. "C'mere a second." It was Kiara.
Fauna moved slowly. Her mind was still in a doubtful haze, but the searing pain was gone. Perhaps it was banished somehow. She placed her shaking hand in Kiara's, and the phoenix squeezed tight.
She dragged Fauna over to where Mumei stood in a similar state. A moment passed between them, and with it an understanding. They'd been played. Their emotions were manipulated and they were sent to play assassin for the administrator. Someone they trusted turned them against each other.
Fauna practically fell into Mumei's arms, but she held her tightly. They both felt the pain of that betrayal. No words were necessary. The shock and shame told them everything they needed to know, bubbling up as tears.
Calli stood by, giving them space. Kiara, on the other hand, joined in the embrace. She freely shared her warmth with people who had been her enemies. The administrator wanted these people gone? What kind of nonsense was that?!
Fauna wasn't sure how much time passed while they stood there, sobbing into each other's shoulders, but eventually Calli approached.
"We should head back, Kiara. I want to make sure the others are okay," she said.
Kiara broke away and dabbed at her cheeks. With a loud sniffle, she nodded, and the two of them started walking away. Fauna watched them go, trying to dry her own tears. She and Mumei would have to figure out what they were going to do as well. They certainly couldn't go back to the administrator.
Before she could give it any considerable thought, Kiara and Calli stopped and turned back. "Are you guys coming?" Kiara said.
Fauna froze. Was that an option? It was tempting, sure, but it felt wrong to impose on these people they were trying to kill earlier in the day. She looked to Mumei for reassurance, but the guardian of civilization was on the same page.
Did they deserve that kindness?
Both Kiara and Calli smiled, and the doubt evaporated.
Fauna's cheeks heated. Now that she really wanted to follow, she was more embarrassed than anything else. But, in much the same way as their former targets had, Mumei cleared that doubt with one simple action. She took Fauna's hand and gave her a reassuring nod.
That was all it took.
Fauna and Mumei marched as one to catch up with what they hoped would be their new friends.
+ Break +
Sana waited by the door. She could feel them approaching, but until she could see everyone getting along, she couldn't breathe easy. The rest of the group felt the same, judging by the tension in the air.
Once the door opened and all four of them walked through, though, Sana forgot all about that. She was relieved to see Kiara and Calli safe and sound, but they weren't who she most wanted to see. She ran past them the moment they were inside and leapt onto Mumei and Fauna. She squeezed tight enough to suffocate them, but they didn't squirm. Instead, they squeezed back. Tears of joy left streaks on Sana's cheeks.
She wanted to keep them close forever, but there were important matters to attend to first. Namely, Amelia was still in grave danger. Sana pulled Fauna into the apartment and straight to where Amelia lay frozen in time.
At the sight of the battered time traveler, Fauna gasped. She absently pushed Kronii out of the way and got to work immediately.
"I take it this means she's on your side now?" Kronii said, crossing her arms.
"Uh-huh," Sana nodded. She wasn't entirely sure of everyone's allegiances just yet, but she chose to believe they'd make the right decisions.
Kronii shrugged. "Guess that means I'm in too." She tried to play it off casually, but it was a momentous choice. One that Sana was incredibly grateful for. Leaving Fauna to her work, they joined the rest of the group in the living room.
It occurred to Sana that with the addition of Fauna and Mumei, the council was almost fully assembled. There was just one member still absent. Glancing Irys's way, Sana couldn't help but worry. Hope looked cheerful as she reconnected with Mumei, but it was a thin veneer. The bags under her eyes were pronounced, and the crystal horns sprouting from her head lacked their usual luster. She probably understood, finally, that she wouldn't be able to talk Bae down.
After Fauna emerged from Amelia's room, satisfied that the time traveler would recover, Calli called everyone together.
"First things first," she said, standing beside the kitchen counter. The table's chairs were filled and so was the couch. It was a little cramped, but something about the physical closeness gave Sana a warm, fuzzy feeling. "For those who haven't met them, this is Mumei, the guardian of civilization, and Fauna, the keeper of nature."
At Calli's gesture, they both stood up and introduced themselves. The only ones who didn't know them were Ina and Gura, but they still flushed nervously as they spoke.
Ina, unsurprisingly, offered them a gracious welcome with a, "Pleased to meet you."
Gura leapt from her seat and approached them each in turn. With the most genuine smile Sana had seen from her, she shook their hands like she was shaking out a wet rag. "Happy to have you aboard!" she said.
Sana let out a breath and unclenched her fists. Fauna and Mumei weren't the only ones worried about how this introduction would go, apparently. The entire room seemed to get brighter with Gura's spirited welcome. A part of Sana felt brighter too.
In the eternity since she was returned to the dawn of the universe, she'd felt a closeness with the council on most every occasion. Whether it was the result of their shared purpose or not, she wasn't sure, but they felt like family. And now, with Ina and the others bolstering their numbers, it was like that family had grown.
The administrator's orders felt more and more unbelievable. They were supposed to have killed these people who were welcoming them into their home? They were supposed to have erased them? It wasn't just wasteful. It was wrong. So wrong that the very forces that governed the universe were rejecting it.
The cosmos was vast and mostly empty. What little there was should be cherished. Especially this place. These people.
Calli clapped her hands. "Alright. With introductions out of the way, we have some business to discuss." Just like that, the time for pleasantries had passed. "Needless to say, the members of the council have chosen to stand against your administrator. I imagine they won't take that lying down. First thing I want to know is how they were controlling you?"
The other members of the council went quiet. None of them had had the time to process what had been done to them. Irys hadn't experienced it all. So it was up to Sana to speak up. "I wouldn't call it control. It's more like we were being manipulated. See, we embody fundamental forces of reality, and as such, we have powerful, inhuman natures that define the base of who we are. As individuals, however, we possess separate, more human natures. Our consciousness, in other words. I think the administrator suppressed those more personal aspects of us."
"That makes sense," Kronii said, stroking her chin. "Not to put myself on their side, but can we fault the administrator for doing as their nature dictates? We've never rebelled when our agency has been taken away before now."
Sana pursed her lips. That wasn't untrue, but . . . no, she really didn't have an argument against that.
Calli did. "That's a pretty flimsy justification." She locked eyes with Kronii for an intense moment before elaborating. "Consider this: As death, is it not within my nature to end any and all life I encounter?" It was a simple comparison–and flimsy, as she said–but it was effective. The council members ruminated quietly on the uniquely relevant perspective.
"I'm a little worried," Mumei said. "I don't doubt that the administrator manipulated us, and of course that's wrong, but how can we possibly retaliate?" That was the question, wasn't it? The council hadn't ever disobeyed the administrator's orders. They were breaking ground on a frightening new path.
Fauna gave voice to everyone's uncertainty. "Couldn't the administrator just take our agency if we raise our hands against them?"
"Not likely," Amelia said, surprising the whole room. She leaned against the wall, having staggered out of her room. Gura and Kiara rushed over to help her to a chair. She still looked pale, but her eyes were clear. "If the administrator could take your agency away, why haven't they done so yet? On that note, it's strange that you were given agency to take us out in the first place."
Sana tilted her head. It was odd. "When we're asleep, we're basically just forces. We can't really be channeled to any specific purpose like that. Not without difficulty, at least. I imagine waking us up was the administrator's only option."
Amelia nodded. "I'm willing to bet that the administrator can only manipulate you guys right when you wake up. Otherwise, there's no reason they couldn't have stopped you from seeing reason and disobeying."
That made sense, but Kronii wasn't satisfied. "That's great to hear and all, but what good does knowing that do us?"
Amelia smirked and looked around the room. "Knowing that tells us that the administrator is not all-powerful. That means we can fight them if necessary."
"Alright! That's what I like to hear, Watson!" Gura bounced out of her chair and pumped her fist. It was hard to believe this was the same shark girl Sana had met just hours before. She was still dealing with something–she couldn't hide that–but she wagged her tail and laughed and flashed rows of big, pointy teeth. Irys, on the other hand, only seemed to fall deeper into uncertainty.
"What about Bae?" Irys asked, wringing her hands. "I have no qualms with fighting back against the administrator, but doesn't that mean we'll have to fight Bae too?"
None of the council members could say a word. They didn't dislike the embodiment of chaos, she was just as much family as any of them, but she was a sore spot. Nobody wanted to fight her, but . . .
Gura stepped in front of Irys and planted her fists on her hips. "You saw, didn't you? What happened in my head?" Sana had no idea what she was referring to, and neither did anyone else, apparently. Only Irys's eyes widened.
"Yes . . ." she said. Something passed between them. An understanding that only they needed.
"I know she's your friend, but she definitely isn't mine. It's fine if you don't want to fight. I won't hesitate." For a split second, Gura seemed a predator. Cheerful, but deadly serious.
The difference between Gura's declaration and Amelia's the night before was disorientating. When they chose to fight Kronii without Irys or Sana's help, it was actually kind of a relief. They wouldn't have to fight their friend.
But not this time. Something was different. Sana couldn't put her finger on it.
Kiara cleared her throat, saving them all from the awkward confrontation. "Before we get too excited, we should probably figure out how we can even get to this administrator. I doubt there's a physical base we can just walk up to like there was with the order."
"Actually, it might not be as hard as you think," Ina offered. "Sana can open a portal to the council's domain. Right?" Sana nodded. Being relied on was nice.
"Right," Calli said, "so we can get to the administrator. That isn't our only option, though." Everyone's ears perked up. "We can wait. Play it safe and let the administrator make the next move." Attack, or be attacked. It wasn't hard to see which was ideal. "I know what I want to do, but I'd like to put it to a vote. Do we wait for the administrator to attack?"
No one raised their hand.
"Should we go on the offensive?" Calli, Kiara, Ina, Amelia–with a wince–and Gura all raised their hands immediately. The council hesitated. There was really only one option, and their former targets had unanimously made up their minds.
The votes trickled in. Kronii raised her hand. Then Mumei, followed by Fauna. Sana, too, casted her vote. She spared a glance for Irys as she did. Hope still seemed troubled.
She looked, slowly, from one hand to the next as if she was carefully counting each one. The weariness remained cemented to her face, but some of the luster returned to her crystalline presence.
She thrusted her hand into the air, haloed by a faint glow. Her determination spread through the room, solidifying their trajectory. They were going to take the fight to the administrator.
For better or worse.
Strange Myth
Part 2
End
