Darkness.

Sand.

Heat.

My fuzzy mind slowly awoke, the sounds around me deafened. I could hear people talking amongst themselves, footsteps pounding against metal, the salty air of the sea touching my skin. I blinked, my eyes slowly opening.

Where was I?

My left eye was half-open, seeing some blurry figures near me. One human, one...snake,and a rock monster.

No.

Cobrarian and Oyariah.

Tobruk. Had to go there to save it. Got our asses handed to us. Half of our guys dead. Had to run. Made it out.

Skull Brothers. Dead kids. Monsters.

Got to Zuwara. Hell of a fight. Killed a Lesser Hive Commander. Felt like I buried half the damn Skulls in the sand.

Heh.

A soft groan left my throat. The woman - Fakhr (remember her name, damnit!) walked over to me, kneeling next to my body, which was leaned against some crate.

"Eyes up, Dawn."

Fakhr's helmet was off, her soft brown eyes looking into mine.

"H-hey." I whispered out, feeling weak. "Where are we?"

"Good to see you're awake. How're you feeling?"

"Like shit."

She noticed my rapidly blinking eyes. "Can you see alright?" She held up five fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

I flipped her off with a singular middle finger. She rolled her eyes, giving me the Skull Brothers helmet I took. "Yep, you can see alright."

I snorted. "It takes a lot more than a souped-up Sectoid to kill me. Now what's going on?"

"We won, Dawn."

"What?" I croaked out.

"What do you remember?"

"I-I killed the Lesser Hive Commander, and a lot of SAS."

She nodded. "We won, Dawn. We beat those fuckers and sent them running. They took massive casualties and retreated. After you killed the Lesser Hive Commander and our ships started shooting, they just...left."

"No fucking way."

"Yes. Yes fucking way." She shook my shoulder. "We got plenty of prisoners, a few heavily wounded Skulls even. One was ranting about 'the one with the purple stripe'."

I coughed. "Seriously?"

She nodded. "Word is from our inside sources the general leading the attack offed himself because of how badly he screwed up."

"Okay, now you're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

She shook her head silently.

Did I really...no way.

Xarian trotted over to me, his arm in a massive sling. "Dawn. Safe, I see."

"Good to see you too, caveman. You better?"

He rumbled. "As of now, my arm is dead weight, it was almost amputated. Your people's doctors are certainly worthy of working at the Ligna hospitals."

"That's a-that's a good thing, right?"

"Indeed. I saw the way you fought, like a little demon. The mercenaries speak of you in fear. It pleased me very much."

"I didn't know you had a dark side, Xarian."

He chuckled. "I only reserve that for my foes. Can you walk?"

I shook my head. "My arms are okay, but I feel weak. I don't know if it's the telepathy or exhaustion. I don't think anything's wrong- I think I'm just worn out."

Fakhr nodded. "I understand." She turned to Xarian. "Can you carry her?"

"Certainly."

"I appreciate the gesture, but where are we going?"

"This ship's headed to Italy. There's a military base there we can use to Gateway back to XCOM. Don't worry, we're safe."

I smiled. "Damn. Guess I really left a mark, huh?"

"You sure as hell did. You should rest, you've really been through a lot."

"Yeah." I yawned. "I have."

"Glad to see you're ok. Oh, and I have that gift-wrapped thing you bought. Who's it for?"

"A friend. You got some water?"

"One moment." Fakhr looked around, asking in Arabic, before Nalena handed her a plastic bottle, which she gave to me. I squeezed it in front of my face, some water spraying all over my face, giving me a little shower. It was a little bit of an aquatic wake-up, a break from the haze that I was in.

"Thanks." I nodded. "I think...I think I'll sleep now."

Fakhr nodded. "Do that, Dawn. Sleep well."

The next day passed by quite differently. I felt less tired and exhausted, moving around more freely. I barely felt like I'd needed to sleep - I'd just taken a three-day nap, after all.

Apparently we'd really done our job in Zuwara well, and then some. The SAS and Skulls were staying away, as the body count we and ADVENT had racked up had turned the whole attack into a disaster for them.

Xarian was doing okay, too. His right arm had taken a beating, with lots of the armor, skin, and rock burned off. It'd taken a near-astronomical amount of nanite spray to stop that, and even then, he'd nearly gone unconscious from the blood loss. He'd get better, but he wasn't going to use that arm anytime soon.

Besides that, everyone else was doing alright. We were all relieved, and I'd bet solid money that none of us wanted to go back there ever again. Seeing what we'd seen, none of us even remotely wanted to touch Libya or any other part of the African front with a 39-and-a-half-long-pole.

I had no idea where Qasira was, or what had happened to her. I really hoped she was alright. Seeing and living through the things she had - she didn't deserve any of that. She was traumatized- and honestly, even though I'd only known her for a few days at most, she reminded me of...well, me, from before. The innocence. Not knowing what I did not. Blissfully living her life, thinking nothing bad could happen to her like that.

But it had to me.

After this whole mess, a part - no, almost all of me felt violated to some degree. Be it the Skull Brother massacre, the burning SAS psions melting like wax, half my team getting blown to bits by Cleanser ships, watching a whole city burn.

I now understood why my uncle became who he was now. Seeing all those...things. I now understood how it traumatized him so much. How he'd wake up in the middle of the night, screaming so loud that I could hear him in the guest room all the way on the other side of his house. How when he went anywhere that was mildly sandy, he'd freeze for a bit, always acting on edge, looking around for something that could minutely be a threat.

"Dawn?"

I looked up at Fakhr. "Yeah?"

"Ship's gonna dock soon. We've got a ride to the base. They'll link one of their Gateways to ours. We're finally coming home."

About damn time.

I got up, following her, gift in hand, along with the rest of the team as the ship docked, refugees and soldiers flooding out to doctors, nurses, and other health workers as all manner of medicine, food, and other essentials were thrown at them. I looked at the crowds, trying to find Qasira among them with my telepathy.

Nothing.

Was she dead?

If she was…

Well, I didn't really want to think about it. I felt - no, I knew that'd I'd seen the ugly, dirtier side of the war. ADVENT's actions - its ferocity, its usage of tactics not too dissimilar from the Commander in the War on Terror - it didn't feel human.

And in a way, that scared me even more.

As I walked to the truck, and climbed in with everyone else, with Xarian's wounded from being loaded into another flatbed behind us, as both vehicles I couldn't get it all out of my head. What ADVENT had done, what the SAS had done.

If this was the future, then what the hell was I fighting for?

I'd seen what ADVENT was at its core - its actions with Scipio and the response it drew. All those towns and cities gassed, all those people shot and burned, all the rampant actions committed by our boys in red and black - and somehow it took this long for it to stop. The cold, inhuman efficiency of it all, the calculating brutality, treating all problems like a nail with a hammer, it reminded me of someone.

The man who made the Advent Directive happen in the first place.

The man who I answered to.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fakhr raise a hand, about to say something to me, when Nalena put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head and whispering something to the Rocketeer. I didn't hear her - nor did I want to, but I knew exactly what she was saying.

Don't. She needs to be left alone.

Soon enough, we arrived at the base, me following the group without a word, silently trailing the group as they walked over to the Gateway, the device's gaping hole flashing purple as we all walked through it. I felt numb, empty. Like a hollow shell.

Like a part of me was gone.

When we reappeared in the Praesidium's Gateway room, Creed was there, waiting for us. He was in his uniform, with a concerned look on his face, looking at the helmet I held in my hand.

"Welcome back, Pharaoh Team. I'm glad you've returned." He turned to look at me. "The Commander's sent his congratulations for your actions. We know about your eye. I know you've been through a lot, and need rest, but we'll need your eye back in tip-top shape. Then-"

I stared at him. "You're welcome." I said dryly. He raised an eyebrow.

I really appreciate all the help you guys gave me. It really lightened the load. Hey, by the way, can you call your ex for me and tell her to tone down the crazy? I just had to kill hundreds of her friends and probably traumatized me for life is something I didn't say, but the back of mind wanted me to.

"Tell the Commander to not give me a mission for a few weeks, would you? I'd like to keep what's left of my sanity intact." I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm and anger. I had just gone through hell and back, and he just...I looked at him, and I couldn't help but feel a rising tide of resentment.

But why?

"Dawn. I understand you've been through a lot the past few days. We didn't expect the mission to go so sideways. On behalf of the Internal Council, I apologize for the incomplete intel we had on the SAS offensive and what came next. We also recognize that you've been pushed to your limits, and I can assure you we'll get things figured out-"

"Pushed. To. My. Limits?" I said, almost hissing. "Do you have any idea-"

"Dawn." Fakhr put a hand on my shoulder. "I get it - but don't."

I looked down. "We'll talk about this later. I was getting tired of wearing this damned eyepatch anyway. Can I have a shower first before the operation?"

"Of course, Dawn. We've cleared your schedule for some time over the next few weeks for you to recover."

"Mm." I turned around and gave each member of my team a tight and affectionate hug. Fakhr reciprocated, Nalena cocked her head and confusedly stuck her tongue out, and Xarian wrapped his one good arm around me, before I let go, nodded, and walked off. As I left, I could fairly hear Fakhr and Creed talking.

"I'm worried about her. Should we-"

"No. She's been through a lot. She's just a damn kid."

I power-walked out of the room, heading towards the armory where I stripped out of my armor and jumpsuit, putting on my old clothes and heading back to the barracks, stuffing the helmet in my locker, ignoring the stares. I grabbed a towel and made my way to one of the showers, hanging my clothes and eye patch off the side as I turned it on, the water blasting me, a welcome change of feeling from the hot, unforgiving desert.

"I'm sorry, Qan. I'm sorry, Manuel. I'm sorry, Jason. I'm sorry, Xemin. Next time I'm out there, I'll kill some more bad guys for you, okay? I'm not gonna forget you." I shook my head.

"I'm not going to forget you. Any of you."

I don't want this anymore.

I want peace.

I just want it to stop.

I want it to go away.

I want to be normal again.

No! Snap out of it!

I shook my head.

What the fuck are you doing? You saved all of those people and you're crying?

Damn…

I walked over to the bench and sat down, grabbing the shampoo bottle and squirting some on my hand, running it through my hair.

You did a good thing, and you gave Betos and her pansies a little nosebleed. Come on. You should be happy!

Maybe I am putting too much focus on this.

I grabbed the bar of soap, listening as people filed into other showers, steam and the smell of body odor beginning to fill the bathrooms.

I almost missed this. Home.

I looked down at my hands, noticing a callus or two. They eventually went away as the MELD in my system would eventually take care of it. Come to notice, I hadn't gotten a zit or a blackhead in a while. Apparently the genetic augmentations negated that, from what I'd heard.

Nice of you, Vahlen.

As depressing as it'd been, it hadn't been a total loss. I'd stepped up back there, led the people to safety along with everyone else. I'd seen firsthand what war did - not just this war, mind you. The War on Terror. The First World's reach on the Third.

The blood on my uncle's hands.

The blood on my country's hands.

The blood on all of our hands.

I'd read about refugee crises in school, you know. Seen articles and new videos about millions feeling their war-torn homes as the allied nations and Caliph burned through them. It could never happen here, I thought. This is America, things could never get that bad here, I used to think. America could never be attacked like that, I used to imagine.

But so much changes in a year, doesn't it?

I never thought I'd see an American city go up in a nuclear blast. I never thought I would see the Big Apple torn apart like it was back when 9/11 happened. I never thought I would go to the Middle East and see what my family's tax dollars paid for in bombs and missiles.

And I never thought I would be so associated with the authoritarians.

Here I was back in high school, blindly swearing allegiance to them. And could you blame me, really? Protection, security, and a unified, better way of line. No more worrying about healthcare. No more worrying about your elected officials putting money in their pockets and going batshit insane with far-right extremist religious and anti-science views.

Sounds pretty cool right?

I felt grains of sand fall out of my hair and drip down my chest and back, swirling in the water as they made their way down the drain. I shook my hair like a wet dog, my hair feeling somewhat lighter now that I'd gotten all the sand out of it.

Just like after a day at the beach, eh?

I grabbed the bottle of conditioner, applied the gelatinous liquid onto my palms before scrubbing my face with it.

It could've been worse. You could've been sent to Europe or...no, Korea hasn't been a problem for months anymore. America, maybe? Or what about South America? God forbid I go back there anytime soon.

I wonder how Violet's doing.

I finished up with the rest of myself, turning the water off and drying myself off with a towel. I put on my undergarments and a t-shirt, preferring to put the rest on as the floor of this place had a tendency to get wet and dirty from...well, everything. Modesty wasn't exactly a top priority here, so I didn't really have to (or need to) worry about someone staring at me not fully dressed.

Creeps.

I walked back to my bed, stuffing my towel back into my locker and climbing into my bed. I looked at my phone.

11:50 AM

Just one more surgery, and you're free.

But what's next?

"Dawn? Is that you?"

Vihhelmina ran over to me, saying something in her native language, her arms open. I smiled.

Look who's back.

I sat in the Commander's office, hands in my lap, legs crossed in a chair, in my fatigues. I'd been requested to wear these for this little 'ceremony' if you call it that, because besides the wedding, XCOM wasn't much for ceremonies overall. Besides, these fatigues did something no other piece of clothing in XCOM did- have the ability to have medals pinned on them.

The very reason that I was in this room.

The only medal I had pinned to my chest was the Purple Heart I got from South America- something that was about to change very soon. I hadn't expected to even really get a medal here ever- I didn't even really know XCOM had medals, not that I cared. In my opinion, serving here was a big enough honor.

But I guess some shiny new medals couldn't hurt, either.

My eye felt better- I'd been out of surgery for a few hours, and it was working good as new. The nanties and augmentations were running biological repairs already, just needed a little surgery to speed it along.

Shame I had to throw away the eye patch, though. I kinda liked wearing that.

The door slid open behind me, the Commander walking in with three very small medal cases floating over his palm.

"Dawn, good to see you. How are you holding up?"

I sighed. "I guess, sir. Some things kinda stuck, though."

He sat down. "From your report, I can imagine so. It isn't everyone who has dealt with a Lesser Hive Commander."

I nodded.

"It's never easy," he said. "Psions in particular never are. You should be proud of what you did, and not just in combat. You did a lot for that city and the refugees."

I nodded. "I'm proud of what I did. With respect, sir, I pushed my limits and did a very fine job."

"That you did."

"Honestly, I wasn't sure I could, well, do what I did. I didn't know I had it in me." I looked down at my hands for a moment. "Hell, I still can hardly believe it myself. Taking down a Lesser Hive Commander...well, no one's complaining. Except the Collective, of course."

"You've proven yourself ready for future combat operations," the Commander said. "I will admit that I didn't anticipate this mission would be so dangerous, but you proved yourself. Carreria's trained you well."

"She has."

"Well then." He clasped his organic and metal hands together, his voice sounding upbeat. "I have three medals to give to you, Dawn Conley. Recognition for what you have done for XCOM and beyond. Are you ready?"

I stood up. "Ready as ever."

"Of course. Now…" He walked over to the side of the table, opening the first case, pulling out an XCOM-shaped medal with a gold finish, attached to a blue-and-black ribbon. "Dawn Conley, on behalf of XCOM, I present you with the XCOM Distinguished Service Medal for your actions during the evacuation of Tobruk, the battle of Zuwara and ultimately dealing a heavy blow to enemy operations. Congratulations, you should be proud."

I nodded, smiling as he pinned the medal on my chest, right next to the Purple Heart, patting me on the shoulder.

He turned around, opening the second box. This one was a light blue and green ribbon, with a golden XCOM-shaped medal, with a black rim. "This medal is the High-Level Enemy Combatant Medal. Few XCOM soldiers have fought and defeated a Lesser Hive Commander. Quite an accomplishment for you, Dawn." He pinned the medal on my chest, smiling. "I'm proud of you."

I am too.

He opened the final case. This one had a white and blue ribbon, with a gold XCOM-shaped medal at the end with a red outline. "This one is the XCOM Bravery Commendation medal. This is given to soldiers who go beyond the line of duty in valiant actions that save the lives of others. For your actions in helping the refugees from Tobruk make it safely to Zuwara, you have more than earned this medal." He pinned it in my chest, making a nice and neat line of gold, ribbons, and various colors. He stepped back, offering a salute, his fist on his chest. "Congratulations on your hard work, Dawn. Vigilo Confido, soldier."

I offered a salute as well in return. "Thank you, sir. Vigilo Confido."

He smiled warmly. "I knew we made the right choice to recruit you."

"And you did, sir."

He smiled. "Wear those medals with pride. You've earned them."

"Thank you, sir."

"There's more."

"I'm sorry?"

"In light of your actions at Zuwara, ADVENT's seen you fit to be granted some of their own medals. It's still a work in progress, but expect some more shiny medals on your uniform, courtesy of ADVENT." He saw my eyes almost light up and a massive grin of satisfaction grow on my face. "Again, you deserve it."

I felt proud - very proud. The only thing I'd earned in the Priests was a 'Certificate of Psionic Capability' before I was shipped to XCOM, which was the equivalent of a diploma, and in a way was ADVENT's way of saying to XCOM 'Hey, this teenager mostly knows what the hell she's doing'. And compared to my actual high school diploma..well, it didn't feel like much.

With my diploma, I'd studied and been a decently competent student. I hadn't even really worked that hard. I got A's and B's, sometimes made honor roll, and that was that.

But these medals? They felt like something more. I hadn't sat at a desk or written an essay for this- I'd earned it through sweat, tears, and blood - many times the latter came from others. I'd put real effort into it- and not just training. I'd killed people, hid out in the jungles of South America, marched through the Libyan desert, and placed myself on the shoulders of giants that stood around me and before me.

My uncle had earned some similar medals, yet under obviously different circumstances. He killed terrorists, while I (somewhat indirectly, and only by association) worked with them. He worked to save the free world- while I was saving the world, and by extension, the galaxy from the Imperator's crazy plan.

Speaking of my uncle…

I opened my mouth, as if to say something. To ask something. I wanted to ask it. But should I, really?

Did I know what I wanted to say?

Have you lied to me all this time?

Did you know?

"Dawn? Were you going to say something?"

I shook my head. "No. Just thinking."

He cocked his head. "You looked worried there for a minute. Are you alright?"

No. No, I'm not.

"I'm really not, sir. In Libya, I did something…" I played with a few of my fingers. "I did something kinda bad."

"What did you do?"

I didn't want to ruin the moment, but at the same time, I had to get it off my chest. "I don't know if Fakhr included it in her report, but when the SAS attacked Tobruk on the second day, there was this particularly nasty counterattack they did, had a few tanks spearheading it. I could've just killed them with my mind and that would've been it, but…" I gulped. "I came up with this plan, and things got brutal."

"What did you do?"

"I, uh, I mind controlled one of the tank crews. I had them blow up the other tank, then I had them turn on the counterattacking forces. Things got nasty. I watched them just run over all these people." My voice got quieter. "I heard- I felt all these people dying so painfully, getting run over and turned into hamburger meat. And when I felt it all, I just couldn't help but enjoy it. I had this thought about how my years of playing videogames had prepared me for this moment, how awesome and powerful I felt doing, not the brutality of what I was doing."

The Commander didn't immediately react visibly, but did appraise me seriously as I continued.

"I snapped out of it, but by the time I did, it was too late. I'd killed all these people, and though I knew the way I did it was wrong, there was this part of my conscience that told me it felt right, that it felt good. And it wasn't just this. Back in South America, while we were attacking the comms station, I made all of these enemy soldiers turn on each other like some kind of angry mob, and I liked it. I felt almost satisfied with what I'd done."

He nodded slowly. "You're not the first person to have that reaction. Patricia was similar, and while she is an extreme case, there are lesser ones I am aware of."

"I know, sir. I'd gotten over my fear of being like her, and here I am, crushing these people with heavy machinery and feeling satisfied about it like some sort of sicko." I sat back down, putting my hands in my lap. "I don't know what to do."

"Mhmm," he considered for a moment. "The primal instinct to take pleasure in the death of an enemy is a common one, and one that no one is immune to. However killing is something that we should make an effort to not derive pleasure from."

He tapped the XCOM logo on his chest. "Our mission is the defense of Humanity. We accomplish this by killing. We are the cold, dispassionate, and ruthless defenders of Humanity. Our mission requires us to be this. But remember that we fight and kill out of necessity, Dawn, not for any other reason."

I nodded as he continued. "You know, on some level, that it is wrong. It bothers you, and you don't know why. The reason, Dawn, is that it is a part of you. One that you need to accept and not fight, because no one can change themselves if they aren't willing to see who they really are."

He stepped back. "I can only tell you what you know yourself, but I cannot be you. If you want to be better, you have to be the one that wants that. You need to take that step, but that first requires you being honest with yourself." He paused, as if thinking of what to say next. "You are young, Dawn, and this is normal. But you will continue to have these thoughts, so long as you don't know who you are, what your values are, and what you intrinsically believe."

He smiled faintly. "I wish I could do more, but from my experience, this I've found is what is best. Think on it, Dawn, and do not be afraid to let your friends help you. Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine, sir."

"Alright. You are dismissed."

I nodded, walking out of the room, medals on my chest. I stopped for a moment, thinking.

I'm a hero.

I'm a goddamn guardian angel.

Angel of Zuwara.

Heh.

That sounded nice.

Yes. I like that a lot.

Very fitting.

It'll do.

"So Dawn, looks like we have a lot to talk about, huh?"

"We do, Doc. We sure do."

I laid on the couch in Yates' office, staring at the ceiling. I didn't usually did this, but here, I didn't feel like putting any effort into sitting.

Especially considering what we were talking about.

"Well Dawn, you have the floor." She said. "What do you want us to talk about today?"

I groaned. "Do we have to talk today?"

"Ignoring your problems won't help, Dawn."

I sighed. Fuck. I really, really did not want to do this right now.

"Okay." I said in a nearly deadpan voice. "Where do I start? My best friend getting shot to death? Watching a bunch of mercenaries shoot up some civilians and kids? Watching SAS guys getting burned to death? It's too fucking much."

"Which one do you want to talk about first?"

I shrugged, groaning. "Is it bad that I want to have those memories removed? I mean, I knew I'd see something like that eventually, but...I'm just mad."

"At who?"

"Myself."

"And why's that? Because of what happened in Tobruk?"

I nodded, not saying a word.

"What about it makes you mad?"

I pursed my lips. "Would 'survivor's guilt' define it? Because I think that's what it is."

"You're talking about the rest of the people in your squad dying."

I nodded. "I just feel wrong, you know? That they, with years of experience, get to live while I live, some kid?"

"Dawn, you're not 'some kid'." She said. "You're an experienced soldier here."

I rubbed the side of my head. "I...I don't know. I saw their names on the Memorial Wall yesterday, and I just had this pain in my gut." I patted my belly. "This feeling of guilt, like it was saying, you did this."

She nodded, making another note. "So you feel responsible?"

I shrugged. "I heard their last moments over the radio. It felt like hell. They were whispering, their voices were so scared, I swear I could hear them shaking." I shivered. "And then there was that boom, that beam from the sky. And they just-"

I felt her put a hand on my shoulder. "Dawn. It's okay."

It's not.

"Damn." I swallowed. "It just felt so personal, and I don't know why. We're a team. We put trust in another, know that we've got each other's backs. And I feel like I betrayed that trust."

She nodded. "Many soldiers who lost friends in combat feel that way, it's not uncommon. Many people have had similar experiences."

"But it's not just what I saw that I can't deal with! I saw people burning to death, their eyes turning into liquid, kids getting shot. It's like what my uncle saw in the War on Terror, with an extra dose of war crimes and whatnot."

"Dawn, would you say that you're traumatized?"

I gulped. "Honestly?"

"Yes?"

"A bit. The action. It was all - I just...it felt like too much. Seeing people get blown up, the sheer intensity, all the death and gore and violence - I've seen it before, but just not this much."

She wrote more on her pad glumly. "I see, Dawn. Thank you."

"You going to tell the Commander that?"

She nodded. "I understand what he did, but I believe he may be mishandling your situation. And no, you're not in any trouble. You and I both know that the Commander wants mentally competent soldiers on the field, not ones that are mentally unstable."

Should've told Kane or Carmelita that.

I nearly ripped out some of my hair. "I don't know if I can keep doing this, Yates. I put this whole 'bring it on motherfuckers' shtick in here, but when I go out there, I'm totally different."

"You mean you think you're lying to yourself and the others?"

"No, what I'm saying is that my mindset does a complete 180 when I go out there. Here, when I'm working out or practicing, I feel like this total badass. But when I go out there, I either feel like I'm a moment away from death or that I'm crushing the opposition with my powers." I shook my head. "I don't know. It's like two worlds out there."

"You can't really compare what goes on here to what goes on in the battlefield."

"No, and I can't compare it to real life either. I don't even think about things like that anymore. Is it bad that I just want a day off in the real world? Walk around my hometown and just...be me again?"

"And by 'be you' I assume you mean pre-war you?"

"Yep. What else is new?"

"You know that can't happen, right?"

"I know, but it's not bad that I want that, right?"

"Of course not. You want a change of pace, a way to deal with your irregular surroundings." She paused, writing. "Hmm."

"Yes?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I may have an idea."

"Yes?"

She pursed her lips. "What if we used the Dreamscape to re-create it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What if we used the Dreamscape to recreate your house or other things from your hometown, or childhood memories?"

"Wait. Would that even be-"

She smiled. "Patient confidentiality. The Commander may not be entirely approving of it, but…" She grinned. "Doctor's orders."

I put on a smile, a lightning bolt of joy shooting through my chest. "You- would do that?"

"Do you believe it would help you?"

"I think so."

"Then that's your answer. I'll make sure it's done relatively soon."

I beamed. "Thank you, Yates! I...I don't know what to say to that."

She smiled. "You can finish up the rest of this appointment. Now, what else did you want to talk about?"

"I don't really know where to start. It's just so much."

"Take your time, Dawn. I don't have anywhere to be."

"I don't really have anything else to talk about, no. But there is something."

"And what's that?"

I thought about my conversations with Hassan, about the various intricacies of the subjects and themes we talked about. I thought about Elijah, about all the times we sat down and discussed...well, everything. After all of the battles I'd fought, all the fronts I'd been to, I still had issues figuring out, well, me. When I'd come up with the plan to defeat the SAS in Zuwara by turning their own railguns against them, I felt proud and satisfied.

But that wasn't enough. I needed to look inside myself, think about who I was, and be able to define who I was.

"Finding myself."

She raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"It's complicated. Like, I know what I believe, but who I am and controlling that, I think, is still out of reach."

"So you're talking about self-actualization?"

Now it was my own turn to raise an eyebrow. "Never heard of that before. What is it?"

"Without giving you a psychology lesson, it's at the top of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, meaning that it's when one's personal potential is eventually realized."

"Oh. So it's like what I said?"

"That's the proper term in psychology, yes. What caused you to think about this?"

I shrugged. "Let's just say my worldview's been challenged a lot recently, and I did some thinking." I tapped the side of my head. "I don't know why, but something feels empty in here, like something's missing about myself, you know? I feel like I'm close to figuring myself out, but I'm just...not there."

I knew that I was talking like someone that was heavily discombobulated, like I didn't know what I was talking about. And in a way, I was. I knew what I wanted, but I didn't know how to say it. Right now, I felt a bit aimless, like a lost toy boat drifting down a river. I sent myself out with a purpose, but now that I was actually doing it, I felt lost.

"I see. So you feel like you're not sure who or what you want to be?"

I nodded. "I feel like I can rely too much on other people's opinions and views sometimes. I want to stand by what I know and believe, but I think that I can cave in due to internal fears of being removed or seen different then the people around me. I want to be...well, more. I want to look in and figure out all these things about me. I want to find myself."

"Mmhm." She wrote more on her tablet. "And how do you want to do that?"

"That's where it's got me." I said. "I don't know where to start. Maybe talk with some of my friends, use the Dreamscape to look at old memories. But I don't know where to begin with this."

"Talking to your friends might be a good start. The Dreamscape too, thought that sounds a bit iffy. I'll put in a message to the Commander about that. Anything else?"

"No, Doc. Thanks, you helped a lot today."

"I always do, don't I?"

I smiled. "Yes. Yes, you do."

I sat in Caelior's room, dejected, in my sleepwear, holding the wrapped gift. I leaned against his bed, my legs crossed, as I brushed the hair out of my face. It had been a day - a long, shitty, stressful, day.

And maybe, just maybe, I would do my best to put a cherry on top of the shit sundae that had been today.

The door slid open, Caelior walking in. He stopped when he noticed me.

"Dawn! You're back, I see-" He stopped, his helmet still on, staring at me.

"Hey, big guy." I said. "I'm back."

"Are you alright? You do not look good." He got on one knee, noticing the bags under my eyes. "What happened?"

I looked up. A lot happened. I...I don't want to use my voice. Is that okay?

He sat down, crossing his legs. That's okay.

Things happened. Things I shouldn't have seen. I...can I show you?

He nodded. Link?

Link.

I gave him my two hands, placing them in the wide, open palms of his. Our minds joined again, memories flowing like water as two streams became a river of emotion, memories, and feelings. I'd gotten used to the feeling by now, our two minds being so close. Us feeling each other's bodies, feeling our beating hearts and the air flowing out of our mouths. Sometimes I even had a tingling session where his two lower arms would be if I was an Ethereal.

Telepathy was a funny thing.

Let me show you.

I closed my eyes and focused, projecting the memories at Caelior's mind. Tobruk, watching it burn, running away, driving across the desert, fighting the Skulls, getting to Zuwara, defending it, killing the Lesser Hive Commander, passing out - he saw it all.

For a few minutes, I felt nothing through our link, Caelior's mind analyzing all of it.

War is brutal. More than any imagine until they see it. I'd hoped you wouldn't see the worst of it.

I know.

I can feel your emotions. I can feel this hurt you.

I gulped. I know. I don't feel right. I saw so much that I didn't feel ready for.

Your mind feels different right now. You feel...I don't know how to describe it. Rougher. Coarser, like sandpaper. Surprise shot through the link.

How worried about this are you?

I nodded. A lot.

This is not normal. Not to this degree.

"I know." I said out loud. "None of this is normal. Parts of me don't want this anymore. Part of me wants to run away, go back to my home and crawl into my bed and go to sleep and forget all of this, like it was just a dream."

"I know that feeling, Dawn. I know it more than you would like to imagine. My days in the Maelstrom were similar, even if now I know how I was used. It was not all pretend. The pressure, fighting the Synthesized, watching so many worlds burn. Watching...her die. Getting the news my parents were dead, seeing their scorched bodies." He paused. "I know how it feels. As much as any Ethereal who fought ."

"Will you help me?" I said, my voice distorted and layered like his, in a way similar to the Avatars. "I don't know what to do right now. I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"I will." He nodded, his voice filled with conviction and emotion. "I have been in situations like that before. I will do my best, I assure you."

"You promise?"

"I do. Wholeheartedly."

Sounded like a plan.

"May I change first? These clothes can get itchy."

I nodded. He got up and walked to the closet, grabbing his clothes and walking into the bathroom as I waited. He walked out a few minutes later in his typical nightwear, carrying the other clothes in his hand. What was different this time was that he completely lacked any footwear whatsoever, carrying his boots...shoes...whatever they were in his hand as he put them back in the closet. He sensed my surprise through our link.

"What's the matter?" He smiled. "After you left, I decided to try out your little tradition." He gestured to my feet. "In the Empire, doing such a thing would be considered...improper. But you are an alien, and you are different. So, I tried out. And it is not so bad. Feels good, even." He walked over to me, sitting down cross-legged like I did. "I now understand why you do it so much. The contrast of your skin and the floor is a...unique feeling."

"Wait until you do it on sand or grass. It feels ten times better."

"I will try that one day."

I nodded. "Can we break off the link? I...I just want my mind to be alone right now."

"Very well."

I nodded.

I could tell he was serious. "Alright Dawn. Alright." He sighed, severing the link, causing me to be briefly disoriented. "This can certainly be considered a mess?"

I nodded. "Want to see the gift I have for you? It's not wearable, but it's something I think you'll like. I got in in Zuwara before it all went down."

"Please share."

The hastily-wrapped gift floated out of my hands and into his, where he carefully unwrapped it, pulling out its contents and delicately holding it.

"A...what now?"

"We call it a teddy bear. Its name came from one of our presidents, actually. It's a stuffed toy popular for all ages. If I could, I would've gone to a Build-a-Bear and had one custom made with four arms, but…" I shrugged. "None of those where I went. But, it was sort of purple and I thought you would like it, so…"

"Thank you, Dawn." He gave it a gentle squeeze in his massive hand. "What does it do?"

"Well, there's a lot of things. Some people like to collect and display them, but pretty much almost everyone uses it when they go to sleep. They cuddle with it, sleep with it, that sort of thing."

"Hm." He turned it upside down, moving the legs and arms. "It's soft. I can see why you call it a bear, it certainly looks like one. Very fuzzy. Does it have a name?"

"That's the beauty of it. You can name it anything, call it any gender or sex. It can be anyone or anything you want."

"Anyone?"

I nodded.

"Well." He said, floating the bear in front of him. "It's small, but it's nice. I think I'll keep it. Thank you for your consideration."

"Always."

He put the stuffed bar on his bed. "I am still concerned about this. Considering what you told me."

I sighed. "I know. I know it's hard trying to talk about this with me, but thank you for trying your best."

"Anything for family. Though I suppose if we were both Ethereals, it would be easier for me." He shook his head.

I snorted. "Some days I wonder what it would be like if I was one of you. Immortal, four arms, more psionics, smarter than I ever could imagine. It'll never happen, but…"

"But it would not feel right?"

"No. As cool as it sounds, I don't know if I could tolerate living forever. Humans aren't immortal. I don't think I could manage living for so long and watching everyone around me fade away and die."

He placed his four hands in his lap. "I understand that feeling. I did not have such issues in the Empire, as all Ethereals were immortal. Growing up knowing you will live forever is something we just used to."

"I get that. Even if I get the chance later in life, I doubt I'll accept it."

He pursed his lips. "I understand where you are coming from. I do not want to make this conversation very morbid, but I am sure you understand now that I will outlive you."

I nodded glumly. "I know. It sucks, I won't be around forever."

"Yes." He said quietly. "I know it will not happen for a long time - I hope. But war is unpredictable, and I cannot promise we'll both make it."

"Then that's why we do this." I said. "Why I come over. To make the time we have left together memorable. So if one of us goes, they're always alive in here-" I tapped my head. "And here." I patted my chest, about where my heart was. "Memories are everything."

"Indeed they are." His tone of voice indicated he wanted to change the subject. While I agreed wholeheartedly, the truth was one day, sooner or later, we'd have to have the 'life span talk'. The acknowledgement that when I'd grow old and be on my deathbed, he'd barely be an adult.

Of course, that was if we both made it out of this war.

If.

So many ifs.

"There's another thing, Caelior."

"One much less serious, I hope?"

"Yeah. It's about me."

"Hm?"

Not knowing how to say it, I looked at him, offering a hand. "I'll show you."

He took my hand, entering my mind and seeing the memory of me talking to Yates. He said nothing, simply closing his eyes, his mouth (he didn't have lips) twitching as it played. Finally, he opened his eyes and released my hand.

"You want me to help you...find yourself?"

"Yeah. I do." I said. "There's not a lot of people here I trust more than you. I know how much I mean to you, and how much we know about each other. I thought-"

"That I could help you with your introspection?" He nodded. "Of course."

"I didn't know how'd you react to me asking that."

He scoffed. "Sister, I may be an Ethereal, but I'm not that emotionally limited." He ruffled my hair. "Of course I will help you."

"The question is, where do I start?" I said. "I can't just change myself to instantly better understand who I am. I'm going to talk to Kunio and Sierra about it, but I just want to understand me."

"Well, I've looked into your mind many times since we started linking. Perhaps you and I could go through your memories together and help you?" He suggested. "We know each other's minds very well. Telepathy is useful for finding parts of the mind that conventional methods are not so reliable for."

I scooted next to him leaning on the side of our bunk bed, the two of us sitting in almost the exact same way, our legs curled, our knees to our chests.

Copycat.

It was funny how similar we both looked; sitting the same way, dressed the same way, like reflections in a mirror. He reached out with one of his big hands, me placing mine in his huge palm.

"I'll do it with you." I said. "I've just done so much and learned so much that I feel like I'm questioning more and more. I have solid beliefs, but I feel like I'm not, well, whole."

"So what you're saying is that you want to have a more solidified persona, to fully know yourself and reinforce your own character, no?"

"Hit the nail on the head, Caelior."

He cocked his head. "Another of your idioms."

I smirked. "Did you guys have any sarcasm?"

"Not especially. It was poor form. One reason why Mortis caused issues."

"Psh. I already have enough of the guy as is. I already have an Ethereal friend, don't I? And honestly, I've been thinking about him."

"Thinking about him...how?"

I sighed. "I always thought that if we met, we'd have some deep conversation about being so similar - being twins, biopaths, different from everybody else, that he'd have some respect for me and that we'd have a 'Hey, good job, kid' moment like a mutual kind of acknowledgement."

"But?"

"But we're on different sides of the war - we always have, and I don't think that's going to change. He's seen what the Collective is, what it endorses. He walked through Paradise, for chrissakes. Yet…" I held out both of my hands. "I don't see anything from him. He railed against complacency in the Empire, and for what? I don't see him going against the Imperator, making any public statements against him. So what the hell is he doing?"

"Perhaps he is preferring to remain out of the light, unlike his sister." Caelior suggested, his calm voice acting like a counter to my more tempered one. "Perhaps he is remaining away from the Imperator's activities as a form of protest. Even more unlikely, perhaps he is planning something."

I scoffed. "Yeah, no shit. That's about as stupid as something like the Imperator having…" I waved a hand. "I don't know, something dumb and supervillain material, like a secret clone army hidden away. Or, I don't know, the Battlemaster plotting a hostile takeover. You know, something silly like that."

"Yes. Quite silly indeed." He lightly squeezed my hand. "I know you're frustrated about all of this. I would be, too. But do not think you must shoulder your burdens alone. I will help you however I can, okay? I've been there before, and I know how to work to make it better."

"Alright. I might need to look at some more personal memories for this, though. We might have to break our memory rule a few times."

"As long as we agree. And...there is something else I'll need help with."

"Yeah?"

"Aegis and I have been talking. I have improved, and as of now I can take on entire Collective armies with somewhat more skill. However, I vividly remember you helping me with the Hiveship. I wanted to refocus on that."

"What, you looking to take down another Hiveship?"

He shook his head, amused. "No. But I believe that with your help in concentrating, perhaps I can do better with larger displays of power. Who knows, maybe you and I will go on a mission together again. And we've linked more times than we can count. We're intimately close in a mental fashion, so it shouldn't be awkward."

"Sure! Sounds fun."

"Thank you. And speaking of memories…" Two controllers floated over to him as the tv and console was turned on with a telekinetic motion. "I remember how you beat me last week in multiplayer." A smirk spread across his face. "Do you accept my challenge of a rematch?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Hello journal, I'm baaack.

Did you miss me? Heh.

Well...these past two week's have been a mess now, haven't they?

Saved a city from the SAS, killed a Lesser Hive Commander, slaughtered countless SAS and Skull Brother goons, ruined my sleep schedule, got traumatized, and oh yeah, I got some fancy medals.

That's nice.

Well, while I'm trying to fix my mind and sit back in bed and enjoy life, I've been thinking about the Commander. My revelation seems truer than ever, and...well, it explains some things.

One thing in question?

ADVENT.

At first, when I felt something was off about it, I couldn't pin it down. I knew that one thing or another was wrong, but I didn't know where to look.

But now, I do.

The cold, calculating efficiency of it all, prioritizing pure organization and order above everything else. And while that sounds great, it leaves out something that makes us Human.

Our humanity. Our sympathy. Our compassion.

Look at the prison system. Look how they treat criminals. While I have no sympathy for rapists, murderers, and pedos, the majority of prisoners in the system are...well, I'm sure most of them can be redeemed. The way they're kept apart, silent, restricted. I can smell Stein's hard-on for punishment here. But it's not just the prisons. The military, the way it acts. The way it conducted Scipio.

It's how the Commander handled the Caliphate. It's how he handled everything before and during this war.

The problem was right in front of me, talking to me, encouraging me all this time.

They let a fucking war criminal write the future world government, for chrissakes! What did they expect?

Ugh.

I suppose it's not all bad though. Things can change. If the Commander can change what he was, then maybe…

Well, only time will tell.

Hmm.

You know, when you look at the context for how he works, the way he treated me was somewhat different. He acted like a mentor figure, like a member of a family. He's never raised his voice at me, he's never yelled at me, he always took time out of his work day (which is every day, really) to sit down, and give some rookie kid real, meaningful advice. He could've chosen to treat me like the others, to just give me all the toys and send me out there wherever he pleased without taking my special circumstances into consideration.

But he didn't.

He didn't show that cold, calculating efficiency. To me, someone who was indirectly affected by his past actions, he showed kindness and empathy. He treated me like I was one of his own.

When I was with him, speaking with him, I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel intimidated. I felt...welcome. As any good leader should do, of course, but this was something else. Like an uncle figure, almost.

If only my real uncle knew.

But as I'm sitting here, thinking about this- ADVENT, the Commander, the world- I wonder.

If the Commander had treated ADVENT the way he treated me, would things have turned out different? Would Scipio have been less brutal? Would Stein even have gotten where she is now?

Ugh.

Should I ask him about this?

Does he know about it?

Does he realize that his own creation has become this monster?

And what happens if we don't do something about it?

Maybe I should ask him.

Not yet.

I need to work some things out.

I'm doing a bit better after Africa. I sometimes have bad dreams, and when I was doing volleyball with the women earlier today I flinched a few times when I fell on the sand. It's not the same, but...I feel stronger. Tougher. Like I grew a few extra layers of my bulletproof skin. I feel like I should be more shaken up, and yet while I kinda am, it's not as much as I'd thought.

Damn. Guess all those times of dying in the Dreamscape paid off, huh? Maybe all the telepathic exposure from Caelior made me more used to people getting in my head. Sierra and I had a good talk about it. I guess our shared near-death experiences are something else we have in common.

Oh, and remind me to never play against her in volleyball ever again.

But hey, I probably still will anyway.

Gotta love the people around me.

"You good?"

Speak of the devil.

Lian stood on her tiptoes next to my bunk, looking at me. "How's the eye?"

"All better." I blinked. "It's a little sore, but it feels just like the old one. Thanks for the welcome-back party yesterday, by the way."

She grinned. "You liked my lo mein?"

"I didn't like it." She raised an eyebrow. "I loved it. It kicked ass."

"Got me there. Hey, I don't know if you heard, but there's going to be a ceremony in Zuwara in a week or something to celebrate the battle."

That piqued my interest as I put the computer away. "What now?"

"Yeah. Just thought you'd be interested, considering what you did for that city."

I shook my head. "It still feels surreal. All the things I did, all the things I saw. I mean, Qasira almost killed herself right in front of me. When I saw her with that gun to her head, I just- I felt something I never had before. It was like this fear, but not about me, about someone else."

"Do you know what happened to her?"

"Last I checked she's in a mental care facility in Portugal, far away from the fighting. Collective hasn't touched Iberia yet, so she'll be good for now. Hopefully when she gets better, I'm gonna visit her."

"That's nice of you to think about that."

"Well yeah. I'm gonna give her some time, though. If anyone deserves some peace, it's her. But hey, Commander gave me some time off missions, so I can sit back and chillax."

Lian rolled her eyes. "Lucky."

"Got any plans?"

"Yeah, me and some of the others are going out to do some shooting. You want to come?"

"Sure."

Maybe this will get my mind off...everything for a bit.

As I put my computer away and went to put my socks on, my phone buzzed. An email!

From: The Commander

To: Dawn

Subject: ADVENT Medals and Ceremony

Well, this was certainly something. I opened the email and read it, almost dropping the phone.

"I got what?" I almost yelled out.

Normally, being surrounded by a little over a hundred aliens while eating would make one nervous, even scared.

But not me.

I was here for a reason, of course. My Borelian friend promised she'd be here five minutes ago for a little reunion over Mexican. Who knew Borelians would find hot salsa appealing?

I didn't.

I shook my head. She wasn't late like this, she always had a tendency to show up on time. Apparently that was a cultural thing or something. It made sense, in its own way.

I sensed her walking into the mess hall, along with someone else. I swallowed the salsa-covered chip, wiping my face with a napkin as I watched her walk in, a somewhat smaller Vitakarian by her side. The two seemed to be very engaged in a conversation.

"So you approve?"

The Vitakarian nodded. Something about him seemed familiar. Why was that? "Yes, indeed. The HUD-interface color shade change to better calibrate with modified Borelian vision is a good idea. I'll have Mercado tell his engineers to do that for Chimera Titan Armor."

Carreria nodded. "Appreciated. I will see you later." A moment later, the Vitakarian departed, She turned around, noticing me. She lumbered over to me, picking me up in a near literal bear hug. "Dawn! You're back!"

"Hey!" I tried to wrap my arms around her, but the closest I got was a little grip on her hair as her bear-like arms wrapped around me. She set me down after a few seconds, baring her teeth and grinning. "I'm back."

"I heard about what you did, saving those refugees." She growled approvingly. "Wastes of hantha excrement, those Skull Brothers." She shook her head. "Some will do anything for money. But you fought like a Borelian!" She chuckled loudly, slamming a fist to her chest. "You were fierce! And you killed that Lesser Hive Commander!"

I smiled awkwardly. Borelians could get a bit macho for lack of a better term when telling about their exploits. Boasting about your or other's exploits was seen as a socially good thing where they came from - it was a sign of pride to them. Why hide it?

"Yeah." I shrugged. "It was uh, really something." I pursed my lips, trying to push the memory of that little spat of bloodlust and carnage."

"You did well. I'm glad my training is paying off." She sat down next to me, cracking her knuckles. "Seems my lessons back home paid off eventually."

"Hey, a student's nothing without their teacher. I wouldn't be half as useful out there if it weren't for you. Credit's all yours."

She nodded. "You make me proud, Dawn. One day, when my mate and I have children, I will teach them as I have you."

"Hey, I think I'd make a pretty good aunt."

"Of course!"

"Who was that back there?"

"Oh, him? The Chimera Commander, of course! I was correcting an issue with our Titan Armor and our vision enhancements. Our natural zoom-in vision combined with MELD enhancements was not properly working with some of the visor's functions. Something that will be changed soon, I am sure."

Didn't the Commander say she was working with him. "What was his name, something with an N?"

"Nartha, yes. He's quite the leader. Never thought I would trust a Zararch agent so much." She snorted. "Didn't even know they could defect, ha. But, I would find no one else here qualified for the position. He knows us well, what we want, what we need, and does it."

"Can't imagine putting a Human in charge of it."

"Of course not! Can you imagine the mess that would be? Much as you Humans are helpful, sometimes things can require a more unique touch. Still, I am glad your selection process is the way it is. Judging from others, many of your kind can be as terrible as the rath'rek's gujinder." She shook her head. "Unbelievable."

"Sorry, a what?"

"Oh. I sometimes forget you can understand Ethereal script and not original Vitakarian, much less Borelian. It is...well, it is an old thing we used to do, back when we were less...advanced not anymore now that we are under the Collective. For the moment."

"What is it?"

"What was it." She held up a clawed finger. "Roughly, it means winter's touch. A peaceful name for such a brutal act. It was an old, old form of capital punishment. Reserved for the worst of us. Murderers, deserters, rapists, that sort of scum. It was a fitting way to end their lives." She gestured to her fur. "This protects us, yes? Against the natural cold of our home. But remove it…." She shook her head. "Nothing good comes of it."

"So...you shaved these people?"

"In a way. We would shave them down to their skin, remove their clothing, and then transport them to the deepest parts of the wastes we could. Either the cold would kill them or the packs of qartef would. They are...the closest resemblance is wolves, but make them about as big as a panther and cover their fur with ice crystals."

I gritted my teeth. "They sound nasty."

"Not if you keep the cubs as pets. We domesticate them too, though not as much as your dogs or cats."

"Wait, really?"

"Oh yes. I had one as a pet. Little Ktzu was a bitey one, but he made an excellent pet. I will show you pictures later, not to worry. You Humans really do have a tendency to call the young of any animal cute, no matter how dangerous it may be to you."

Not exactly wrong.

"I'm looking forward to it. You really seem to like Nartha, huh?"

"Indeed. He is like a hero to us. His bravery and heroism of joining the humans carved the path for all of us: me, Xarian-" She gestured to all of the aliens in the mess hall, soldier and scientist alike, eating and talking together. "All of this is because of him. Well, Aegis too, but he was the first." I could sense the pride in her voice, and I'd be damned if I was going to disagree with her. There was always a first someone or something - Nartha had been that for them, lighting the torch to guid the way to all of these other Vitakara.

The Andromedons were a different story, but still.

And it reminded me.

I was a first too. The first teenager to be a soldier in XCOM. The first ever human biopath (Bringer soldiers don't count). I had a responsibility too, like Nartha. I had the responsibility to explore and develop biopathy, as a tool of destruction and help. Biopathy could melt, yes, but it had the potential to heal almost any disease, or help plants grow. Nature itself was your tool to wield a Pandora's Box of possibilities.

But it wasn't just my biopathy - it was me.

I myself could be a symbol.

Young people like me always looked for a way to be rebellious, to find new paths to forge, to find ways to give themselves purpose. We'd expressed this in so many ways- generations of protest, young adult media - movies like Rebel Without a Cause and The Hunger Games.

In a way, I was a personification of that power fantasy.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling until I hit that page.

The Hebe Initiative.

I smiled.

Yes.

I could do this.

I sat down next to Kunio, him leaning on the table, watching as Fiona dueled some of the Templars. It was an alluring sight, but not even that could take my mind off what I'd been thinking about. I didn't know what to say or if I should even talk about it. I knew JULIAN might be listening, but at this point, I really didn't care. Even if I did something with telepathy, he'd find out sooner or later if someone's lips slipped or something.

Crap.

"Hey, Dawn. What's up?'

I pursed my lips, looking around. "I...I don't know." I placed my hands under my chin. "I don't even know if it's true. I can barely believe it myself."

"You look worried." A look of concern grew on his face. "You seem upset."

I shook my head. "No, upset isn't the right word. Confused, bamboozled, stuck, I don't know. It's just so damn confusing."

"What is? Dawn, I don't understand what you're saying. What's going on?"

I momentarily closed my eyes before opening them again, taking a breath in and out.

"This might seem a little weird, but in your opinion, what am I to you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

Crap. "When you think of my name, what comes up in your head. Like, keywords, pictures, ideas, what? What, in your head, does Dawn Conley mean to you?"

He rubbed his chin. "Are you trying to ask me what you mean to me, as a person?"

"I guess."

He didn't say anything for a moment, looking at the table. "Well, Dawn, that's an interesting question. What brought this up? Seems different than what we usually talk about."

I explained my thought process to him, telling him about my experiences with Hassan and what I'd discussed with Yates.

"And you're asking me these questions so you can get a better perspective on how people close to you view you?"

I nodded. "That's right."

He nodded. "Pretty respectable of you, Dawn. Well…" He pursed his lips. "To me, you're a lot of things. When I think of you, I see a 'little sister' kind of person. Someone that looks up to all of us, and someone we look after."

"Can you elaborate 'look after?' Just to clarify." I took out my phone, and opened a new page in the Notes app.

"Are you taking notes?"

"So I remember, duh." I said. "I can remember how to use the most expensive technology known to man, but I can barely remember how to make a grilled cheese without burning it."

"Reminds me of when my father tried to teach me how to make sushi." He muttered something in Japanese. "You'd think that not crushing the goods inside of the roll wouldn't be hard to avoid." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's alright. You want me to keep going?"

I nodded.

"Hm. Well, if I had to put it in perspective, it's a kind of example-setting for you, if you will. Here's a question. Besides Carmelita, did you experience major hostility when you first came here?"

I shook my head.

"Right. See, though I can guarantee I know more soldiers than her who had some grievances about someone as young as you joining, they realize that being hostile to you and giving you a hard time for something you can't control. So they show you by example. They showed you how to shoot, how to act, how to follow orders, things that every soldier in XCOM needs to know. It's not like a coddling thing, but as a sort of mentor role, like a big sister or brother type. With me, it's like that, but more personal."

"How so?"

"Well, I've never actually had a little sibling before. My parents tried, but they ultimately just ended up with me. There are not many large families in Japan for...many reasons. It was always strange to see families with multiple children. Three, four, struck me as unsustainable, but I'd be lying if I didn't see something appealing about it. Having someone to look up to or teach, someone to pass down life lessons to and at the end of the day have someone there like you."

I gave him an open-mouthed smile. "That's like exactly how I feel with my twin sister. Like, word-for-word."

He nodded. "You see? To me, Dawn, you're in a way like that younger sibling I didn't have. After you left when we met for the first time, Fiona asked me to look after her, told me there were some similarities between you and her."

"She told you that too? About the similarities? She was kinda vague about that."

"I suppose she has her own secrets." He waved a hand. "So while to me you're like a younger sibling, you also sometimes bring out a more emotional and caring aspect of me, and in other people too."

I stopped typing. "Because of my age?"

He nodded. "You can't treat teenagers like adults. Granted, you've grown up a lot and developed beyond being a teenager-"

I raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that. You saw what I posted on the discord?"

"Hey, it still gets laughs out of people."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that one was good too. Anyway, the point is is that when you're explaining advanced concepts like the morality and strategy behind what we do in this war, sometimes that makes you, you in this case being the adult talking to the teenager, it makes the person telling them that look at it from a different perspective, and see it in a new way, maybe."

I nodded. "Do you think that I've made XCOM more open for teenagers in the future?"

He shrugged. "You'd have to ask the Commander or someone else higher-ranking than that. Honestly, I know the Collective did it first, but knowing them and what you've told me, they more than likely screwed it up."

"You have no idea. I'm twice the man he'll ever be." I paused, looking at my notes. "Hmm. I'll have to look over these later, but thanks, you really helped."

"Did I help?"

"A lot." I slightly grinned. "I've got some news for you."

"Oh?"

"Sooo, remember how I said I got some medals from the Commander?"

"Yeah. Where are you going with this?"

I smiled. "I got invited to a medal ceremony in Zuwara. It's a private event for some of the higher-ups to celebrate the victory and the beginning of the rebuilding. Christiaens's going to be there."

His eyebrows show up. "Seriously?"

I nodded. "Oh yeah." I pulled out my phone and opened the email. "Here." I gave him my phone. "Check it out."

He looked through the email, his eyes widening as he reached the end.

"ADVENT's giving you the Medal of Honor?"

I grinned proudly. "Yep. I'm the youngest person to get it. So far."

"Unbelievable." He shook his head. "Here I am in my twenties thinking I've done it all, and my redneck teenage American friend outdoes me in the medal department."

I laughed. "Hey, I still haven't fought any Bringer dudes yet. And you've fought the second most important Ethereal alive."

"And I can still kick your ass on the mats." He said. "I don't care how small you are, you're so easy to put in a headlock."

"I mean, hell, sometimes I could wish I could teleport. I mean, if I could change my psionics, not gonna lie, part of me would switch to a teleporter."

"Get in line." He rolled his eyes. "But seriously, it's crazy. The Medal of Honor! A teenager, getting that!" He scoffed. "I'm sorry, but just saying that makes me do a double take."

"I know!" I said. "Kinda wish it was more public - press and that, y'know, but still. I can hardly believe it myself. Hell, maybe I can get a word in with the Supreme Commander herself."

"I wouldn't count on it."

"Hey, a girl can dream, can't she?" I shrugged as he returned my phone. "And - did I mention I get to test out the new Domination armor?"

"Oh? That one I haven't heard of."

"Sorry, portal boy. Only telepaths allowed for this one. Gives you an aura, but there's no shields though. Guess they wanted to see if anything freaky happens with my biopathy."

"You're on a roll, aren't you?"

"Guess I am. Want to hear about my little trip to Africa?"

"Trip?"

"Let's just say that I did a bit more than bless the rain down in Africa."

"Never one to miss a reference."

"C'mon. It had perfect timing. Now, you wanna hear about it or not?"

I sat across from my sister in her room, at opposite ends of the small, circular table where she normally ate her lunch. Due to her coming here earlier then our parents, she got lucky and got a room all to herself. It wasn't too big- more of a college dorm room then anything, but it was still something.

Lucky.

"So, sis, what's going on?" She chewed on a bowl of microwavable macaroni and cheese. "Heard about your trip to Africa. Sorry it went...well, so sideways."

I nodded. "Yeah. I'd rather not talk about it."

She nodded. "Sorry, Dawn. Didn't mean to-"

I held up a hand. "It's alright. Things just...went sideways."

You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Grace.

My boss might be hiding something.

Wouldn't you and the others like to know?

"I heard."

I nodded. "There's something I wanted to talk about with you. Mom and Dad might not take it well, though."

"What?" She rolled her eyes. "Did you get a boyfriend?"

I snorted. "No."

She looked around jokingly. "Is it Caelior?"

I grinned. "Who else?" I said with a deadpan voice.

She chuckled. "Whatever."

"But…" I pulled out my phone, finding a picture of me in my new Ethereal 'dress', showing it to my sister. "Pretty nice, right?"

Her eyes lit up. "Damn! Now that's something! Where'd you get it?"

"Caelior made it. Aegis helped too. Actually…" I reached into my backpack and pulled it out, folded up and wrapped in see-through plastic. "I have it right here." I laid it out on the table, unwrapping it and removing the shirt. "Here, check it out. Be careful."

She took the shirt in her hand, running a hand over the center. "Is that a stone in the center?"

I nodded. "Yep, real onyx! Quality stuff all around!"

She chuckled. "You lucky bastard. Is this legit silk?"

"Real shit."

She shook her head. "Do you mind if I try this on? I don't want to accidentally tear this."

"It was made by two Ethereals. I think it'll take a lot to break it."

"Wait, really?"

I smiled. "Grace, you're my sister. Of course you can. It can be a little complex, though. Want help?"

She nodded, and we walked over to the bed, where I showed her how to put it on. It wasn't too hard, but once done, I had to admit, she looked great. She tapped the 'shoes' on the floor, looking at herself through her phone camera.

"This is incredible! And you wear this all the time?"

I shook my head. "No. Only when I'm staying over with him. If I wore it anywhere else, people would ask questions."

She shrugged. "Alright then. Thanks." She shook her head. "You're making me more jealous every day, sis."

"You tell me. You're the one with the normal life."

"Without the aliens, constant near-death situations, and high tech weaponry? How could I not want that?"

We both chuckled. "Hey, when you change out of that, I um, need to talk with you about something. It's...kinda weird."

She immediately noticed my change in demeanor. How could she not? We'd known each other for our entire lives. We could read our subtle expressions better then any adult- even our parents.

"Did something happen?"

"Sort of." I twiddled my thumbs. "Just...I need some time to word this."

She nodded. "I'll change. Be right back."

As she walked into the bathroom and closed the door, I placed my chin on top of my clasped fists, thinking.

Are you really gonna tell her this?

'Yes, Grace, I want to adopt a godforsaken Ethereal into the Conley bloodline and have you call him a brother. Yep, the guy who wrecked entire cities and killed thousands. Yes, him. Oh, and I tell him that I love him- no, not like that, because I know you well enough to assume otherwise.'

What am I doing?

But I trusted her enough over my parents for reasons.

Fine. You're doing this, and you're going to say it to her.

She walked out a moment later, back in her normal clothes with mine in a bag. She set it down on her bed and sat next to me. "What's up?"

I sighed, breathing in and out. "Okay. What I'm going to say sounds absolutely crazy. But you have to listen, okay?"

"Okay."

So I told her. I told her about what Caelior and I did, temporarily linking our minds, showing each other hundreds of years of history. How he took his helmet off for me and how we connected. How we treated each other like family, and how I told him that I loved him like a brother, and how he called me sister. And how I brought up adoption for him, to do the bare minimum and at least try to give him a semblance of what a family looked like that didn't go 'haha natural child go brrr' and push into the meat grinder.

"So...that's it." I said, gulping. "That's what I came here for. I wanted to tell you, mom, and dad about this, but I don't know how. I know y'all met Caelior and Aegis while I was gone, but it just doesn't feel right. Like, we're not into each other, but there's this...connection." I paused.

She nodded, pursing her lips.

"You know what?"

"What?" I was nervous, half expecting her to make a stupid joke or crack a laugh.

"I thought you were going to say something super fucked up, like the shit you had to deal with in Africa. This? It's kinda wholesome. Granted, it's odd, but...honestly?" She shrugged. "That's actually super nice of you."

"You're...not weirded out?"

"I mean, a little. It's unorthodox, but…"

"Hey." I put a hand on her shoulder. "You're being honest. I don't need to use my powers on you to say that. It's okay."

"I mean, if I'm going to be really honest, I-I'd have to meet with him more. Get a feel for him, y'know?"

"I get it."

"Mm. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"If it actually comes through and happens, what do you want to do next? What're you planning to get out of this in the long-term? Companionship? Gonna move in together?"

I chuckled. "Wouldn't entirely be out of the question. I guess we just really want to be closer to each other. There's a lot we can relate to each other on, and honestly, I feel like he deserves another shot at a family. XCOM's been good to him, but it's not just the same, y'know?"

She nodded. "I think I get it. You just want to give him something he never had, yeah?"

I nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."

She smiled. "I think that's kinda sweet. I mean, I'd be lying to you if I said that it didn't feel weird about having an Ethereal in the family. But I can tell you and him had something going on."

She noticed my surprised expression. "Oh, come in. It was kind of obvious. How much you talked about him, the way you did-"

"Guilty as charged."

She laughed. "For a bit there I thought you guys were into each other. Imagine telling mom and dad that."

The two of us laughed at that ridiculous idea.

"Well, Dawn, that was something. I didn't expect that to come up, but...hey. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, sis."

"Any missions coming up?"

I shrugged. "I think the Commander's gonna tone it down for me post-Libya. Maybe a few one-offs to some bases or something if I had to make a guess."

She nodded. "You doing alright after that?"

"Eh." I shrugged. "It...it was a lot."

The look on my face said it all.

"Alright then." She cleared her throat. "Well, that's actually perfect timing, because I have a date in thirty minutes so-"

My eyes show up. "Say what again? You have a what now?"

She waved a hand. "Oh, it's this guy I met while working with the kids. You know I have a job here now?"

"What?"

"Oh yeah, it's nothing special. I just work with the childcare staff here. One of the moms referred me, got some training, and boom, I'm on their payroll, just like mom and dad."

"I guess XCOM's a family business now, huh?"

"Sure is."

"Now tell me about that boyfriend of yours." I winked. "What's his name?"

She slightly blushed. "I, uh-"

Oh boy. This will be fun.

A/N: As you may have noticed, there are no dates on this chapter. Going forward, this will be the norm, with the only exceptions being notable dates like anniversaries, birthdays, events extremely important to the plot, etc.. This decision was made due to some date confusion in regards with the Xabiarverse timeline and creative decisions.

Also...300k words! We did it! This fic is longer than the Hades Contingency! Woohoo!

To be continued in:

Testing, Testing, 1, 2, 3