PART I
A crimson light seeped through the silk curtains of Breach's bedroom. Although it resembled the warm, soft glow often associated with neon signs at discotheques and emergency exits everywhere else, it didn't invoke in her any feelings of intrigue or safety. It was quite the opposite, to her, as it instead informed the start of a new day and one where she would venture into danger with a sense of anxiety that overwhelmed any other feelings.
As such, glory was the driving force that got her out of bed and motivated her through it all. But some days, such as that day, her conviction wasn't enough to overcome the physical limitations of her body; or rather, the horrific strain caused by tearing apart the very fabric of space, time and time again.
She was accustomed to the nausea, the cramps, and the fever that would follow missions where she opened a variety of taxing rifts; some connecting on opposite sides of the world, others open for hours at a time, and a few large enough to uproot entire buildings on dire occasions – though all of them were safe for travel regardless of the circumstances, and regardless of the toll it took on her.
As hard as the work was, she eventually reached a point where a good night's rest was all she needed to recuperate. But there was something about opening rifts near phase scramblers–or when desperation necessitated it, in the immediate presence of one–that messed with her abilities, health, and psyches for days after the fact. Further yet, in addition to the usual cocktail of undesirable symptoms, she also suffered the most wretched kinds of nightmares the moment she dared to rest.
One might assume that an EVO who had seen as much violence, bloodshed, and destruction as her would become numb to imagined visuals after some time; but every time, without fail, she dreamt that her inaction, her weakness, resulted in the brutal, wanton deaths of countless lives.
Despite only being figments of her imagination, those scenes appeared to her so vividly without any means of escape that it provoked terrible sobbing, wailing, and thrashing against the stone walls of her lodging with whatever strength she had left until she invariably entered a catatonic state of motionlessness that most passerby would mistake for death. It was a disconcerting sight, and the noises she made prior was enough to drive anyone who cared enough to check on her mad. However, there was one person who was unbothered by Breach's nightmare-riddled hysterics, and it wasn't for her partial hearing loss after she turned EVO.
No, Circe made a habit of tending to Breach whenever she became unwell for a host of reasons, but there were two she would personally rank above the rest: first, her absolute gratitude, borderline reverence, towards Van Kleiss and all members of The Pack; and second, the unspoken solidarity she felt with Breach as another hopeful young woman fighting ceaselessly for EVOkind.
Hence the reason why Circe appeared at Breach's door at the crack of dawn, and entered with a pot of soup in hand after knocking in the shave and a haircut rhythm.
"Hey girlfriend! Are you doing okay?" She greeted Breach while nudging the door shut with her heel to which Breach responded with pure silence. With her sheets haphazardly thrown over her body like a cocoon, it was difficult to tell if she was even breathing – but Circe knew with absolute certainty that she was.
Although Circe's "evolution"–as the denizens of Abysus dubbed the phenomenon of turning EVO–invariably made her hard of hearing, it also altered her physiology such that she could feel sound far more intimately, much the same way a concert goer could easily sense the vibrations of loud music in their bones; or in her case the most subtle difference in Breach's pulse, which she took as a sign that Breach was awake and attentive; just in a reserved kind of mood that she would have to pester Breach out of.
"My bad–are you still alive?" She followed up before placing the pot on Breach's nightstand and unceremoniously tossing herself on top of Breach's body. It didn't take long for Breach to then shove Circe off of her and emerge from her bedsheets with a scowl on her face.
"Get lost." She mumbled groggily before retreating underneath her covers once more – or rather, attempting to do so as Circe grabbed a hold of Breach by her shoulders to position her upright.
"I did! Your soup would still be warm if I didn't keep making wrong turns." Circe countered as she reached for the pot of soup. "Maybe you could ask Van Kleiss to put up some signs? I'd settle for a map."
Breach sulked a bit before asking "…What kind of soup?" with a hint of trepidation in her voice as Circe placed the pot on her lap.
"Vegetable!" Circe enthusiastically replied while removing the lid from the pot and revealing its loathsome yet lovingly stewed-together contents.
Breach wasn't necessarily a picky eater, in fact soups were her singular favorite category of dishes after having sampled every kind there is around the world; and the issue wasn't Circe's cooking ability either, as Circe was a competent chef given the many cookbooks she regularly read, among other texts.
No, the issue was with the ingredients.
Although she wouldn't dream of criticizing Van Kleiss' efforts, Breach always had a disdain for the crops that were grown an Abysus soil. Whether it was the result of growing in nanite-saturated soil, or the product of genetic modification to make the crops more hearty, nutritious, and fast-growing, Breach felt that the nation's fruits and vegetables tasted worse than sewage, and someone like Circe who wasn't permitted to leave Abysus' borders would have no frame of reference, no way of recalling what food was actually meant to taste like.
As such, Breach made no attempt at disguising her contempt by letting out an audible groan, but Circe paid no mind to Breach's reaction and followed up by unwrapping a spoon she had been carrying in a napkin.
"I feel sick looking at it!" Breach protested.
While rolling her eyes, Circe insisted "You'll feel better actually eating it," while getting a spoonful and holding it before Breach's mouth. "Just close your eyes, pretend its miso or something."
At that moment, all Breach could do was frown harder at Circe's tenacity. Although Breach was somewhat tempted to smack the spoon away or covertly spill the soup to avoid swallowing the slightest bit, she knew Circe would just march all the way to the kitchen and prepare a bigger pot in retaliation, or use her siren abilities to lull her into a state of submission. Possibly.
Theoretically.
In truth, Breach doubted Circe would go so far as to use her abilities directly on her, but when it came to the wellbeing of the people of Abysus, especially The Pack, Circe appeared willing to go to any lengths. And comparatively, having a small portion of a meal that tasted like poison wasn't the worst fate; a notion so obvious that even Circe thought to vocalize it after Breach finally accepted the spoonful and swallowed.
"See? That wasn't so bad was it–" Circe reassured Breach before getting interrupted by the sound of Breach lurching and then suddenly vomiting directly into the nearest container she could get her hands on – which just so happened to be the pot of soup.
"OH MY GOD!" Circe screamed as she jumped off the bed and helplessly watched Breach throw up. The only saving grace was that Breach didn't have much in her stomach to hurl in the first place, but the fact only made Circe feel worse about her intentions when Breach continued to dry heave and wet-cough for nearly a minute afterwards; and once it was finally over, Breach carefully moved the pot off her bed with her larger hands, wiped her face clean with the smaller pair, and sat on the edge without saying a word, which Circe took as an invitation to sit by her side and offer a reconciliatory pat on the back.
"I'm sorry about that Breach. Forget soup, I'll go fetch you some water– " she offered right as a small rift opened before them and provided the pair with a dozen or so unlabeled water bottles. "Oh. Are your rifts working again?"
Breach shrugged at Circe's question before grabbing hold of a bottle and drinking the entirety of its contents in a few swigs. After flicking her wrist to dispose the empty bottle and bringing her knees to her chest, Breach responded to Circe's query earnestly. "Hardly. Only the small and useless kind."
Breach's words compelled Circe to pout and give Breach a supportive hug before taking a hold of her smaller hands and squeezing them gently while looking her in the eyes.
"Okay. Whatever's on your mind, I'm more than willing to listen."
"Why do you care?"
"Because you're the closest friend I've got and friends take care of each other." Circe responded empathetically. Hearing it said out loud, that she had a friend in this world, caused the suggestion of a smile to appear on Breach's face, and Circe squeezed Breach's hands harder with the belief that Breach would feel even better if she had the opportunity to say whatever was on her mind in turn. "So spill." Circe instructed Breach as such. "Your thoughts, I mean, not your guts."
Breach looked away for a moment, as if checking for any nearby eavesdroppers, and once her confidence was sufficiently built up she opened up to Circe in a whispering sort of tone.
"…I messed up. In front of Van Kleiss. The phase scrambler was messing with my rifts, messing with my head–" She explained while pinching the ridge of her nose with one of her smaller hands. "Everything swirling, everything still. I thought I couldn't stumble so easily, but then he nudged me over the edge, so I had to leave before they could see me tumble and fall–but it didn't matter in the end because they fought while I was out and that's when Providence came in and-and–"
Struggling to keep up with the increasingly incomprehensible narrative Breach was panickily mumbling, Circe suggested that Breach take a couple of breaths and slow down before seeking clarification.
"Now that you've taken a breather, who do you mean by 'he'? As in Van Kleiss, Skalamander, Biowulf?"
Breach shook her head at the mention of all her names. There was nothing that the other two members of The Pack could say or do to fluster her, but Van Kleiss didn't say anything that would cause her thoughts to spiral the way it did that day, either, which left only one option:
"…Is it The Generator?" Circe asked Breach in a hushed tone. "That Providence agent everyone's talking about?"
Breach pursed her lips. Although Circe had correctly identified the suspect, the act of confirming it out loud seemed tantamount to admitting that Rex had this much power over her, that the most innocuous gestures of some boy was all it took to throw her off her game and shut her down completely. It was stupid, embarrassing, utterly ridiculous, and thinking about it anymore than she had to made her want to take cover underneath her sheets and hide away from the prying, judgmental eyes of anyone who would tear her apart for revealing her flaws.
Breach simply hesitated to reply, and it was her hesitation that bought her enough time, for better and for worse, for Van Kleiss to appear at her doorstep, knock three times on the door, and enter her bedroom.
"Breach," he greeted her plainly before registering Circe's presence right next to her. "Ah, and Circe."
In response to his arrival, Circe immediately hopped off Breach's bed and kneeled on the ground with her fist slammed into her chest. "Van Kleiss! Sir! Lord!" she greeted him with an intensity just short of shouting.
"Just my name will suffice." He chuckled. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
"Right, right." she sheepishly acknowledged while standing up and dusting off her skirt. "Sorry for not requesting permission this time around, I just thought Breach would appreciate some breakfast in bed."
"You need not apologize for showing compassion towards your fellow EVO." He dismissed with a wave. "Though I suppose I should apologize for not seeing you until now, Breach." He continued with his focus now directed at her. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"I…" Breach swallowed hard as she clenched all of her hands into fists to quell the slight trembling Van Kleiss' mere presence provoked.
It was uncharacteristic of her to feel this way towards him: fearful, afraid. If she ever felt negatively towards him, it was usually her feeling upset at him whenever he commanded her during her leisure time, or depressed whenever he chastised her and temporarily revoked some of her privileges for disregarding his orders in pursuit of vanity projects and various other desires.
Upset and depressed, but never afraid as she was never really concerned about what he would do if she failed to meet his expectations – until now. Perhaps because he previously appeared too sickly and weak to mete any meaningful form of punishment, or because he was the sort of leader who preferred positive reinforcement over punitive measures wherever he could afford it, as his vision of a utopia would have everyone treat each other that way and he always strived to lead by example.
But then, at that moment in time, he was an EVO in peak physical condition and the leader of a struggling nation which was recently invaded by a force that she could have repelled if she were just more capable. Although Van Kleiss was never really tough on failure, in her experience, Breach thought to herself that 'There's a first time for everything' with a shudder as she swallowed hard and decided on her response.
"…I can open my rifts. I'm ready to go back out–"
"That's well and good but I'm not asking about your abilities." He sighed while taking a step forward and kneeling to look at her at eye level. "I'm asking about you. The nurses told me you were feverish and going days without eating. Has the fever subsided? Can you manage solid food?"
Breach said nothing as her eyes nervously glanced at the inconspicuous pot by his side.
"She can't keep down bowl of soup." Circe clarified in Breach's stead.
"I see." Van Kleiss muttered before he stood back up with a huff. "I do appreciate your enthusiasm but Abysus needs you at your best, so I demand you keep resting until you've made a full recovery, Breach."
Breach acknowledged his command with a silent salute. If the best she could do at that point in time was summon and dispose of water bottles that were within castle boundaries, she was better off staying in her room and sparing her nation any further embarrassment.
"We will let you be." Van Kleiss said as he waved farewell and turned towards the door. "Circe, would you kindly accompany me?"
Circe nodded right away, and before she exited the room she made sure to give Breach an quick hug and told her to "Take care, Breach."
After expressing well wishes, jogging out of the room, and gently closing the door, Circe caught up to Van Kleiss and the two of them began navigating through the many corners and turns of a labyrinthian hallway, with Circe wondering what thoughts were present in Van Kleiss' mind. However, Circe, as usual, didn't initiate the conversation; she simply revered Van Kleiss too much to speak out of turn, despite Van Kleiss repeatedly insisting that anyone could speak to him however they desired so long as they were still respectful.
The clash between Circe's submission to authority and Van Kleiss' laissez-faire attitude towards his people led to many awkward moments such as that one where the two would occupy the same space in silence despite Circe transparently having something she wanted to say. As such, once the pair reached the end of the hallway and started walking down a flight of stairs without exchanging so much as a word, Van Kleiss took it upon himself to break the ice.
"Pardon for interrupting your conversation." He began nonchalantly.
"That's alright, we didn't talk about much anyways…" Circe replied with the meekness of a kitten before registering that she was finally given an opportunity to talk. "But while we're on the subject, can I ask you something?"
"Of course." Van Kleiss responded with an engaged voice.
"Breach isn't in trouble, is she?"
"She is not." Van Kleiss paused his descent and looked down at Circe. "Does she believe otherwise?"
"She thinks she let you down because of…you know, the incident."
Van Kleiss sighed yet again – Breach had that effect on him, it seemed – before continuing to walk down the staircase and offering a more through response that was sure to sate Circe's curiosity and eventually be relayed to Breach.
"Breach and the others followed my orders dutifully; and in doing so, Breach was incapacitated and Providence attempted an invasion for the first time in years." Circe noticed how Van Kleiss' hands tensed up into fists when he made verbal mention of Providence. It took a lot to provoke Van Kleiss' ire to the point it was visible, and if there was a threshold of tolerance where he could say the organization's name out loud without any indication of malice and scorn, it was one that now thoroughly exhausted. "No, the fault lies solely with me and I have been up for days trying to fix the mess I've made."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Circe asked as she and Van Kleiss reached the ground level of the castle. And when they did, Van Kleiss stood in place once more to contemplate his answer before turning towards the direction of the throne room.
"...As a matter of fact there is." He muttered before proceeding with Circe.
The walk there was short and silent, but once they arrived, Van Kleiss immediately approached a wall of wooden cabinets– or what remained of it after his confrontation with Rex–and retrieved several documents, the first of which appeared to be a notarized letter. After gesturing for Circe to take a seat in an out-of-place chair at the newly furnished long table, Van Kleiss sat down on the opposite side, aligned the documents, and formally addressed Circe with the sort of presence that justified the way she regarded him.
"First things first, I maintain my position that you aren't fit to join The Pack."
Circe winced and bit down on her tongue hard to resist the temptation of protesting. If that was his judgement, there was no further discussion to be had and she would exit the throne room as soon as she was dismissed; but the fact Van Kleiss brought up the subject, seemingly unprompted, really hurt. Was it because he thought she was too weak, naïve, or frail? She certainly considered herself to be all of those things, before she arrived at Abysus, and made those vulnerabilities known when she was still considered a newcomer.
But in all that time since then, since losing her old life and starting anew, and spending every day in service of Van Kleiss and Abysus, did he not believe she was devoted to their cause and willing to do whatever it took to realize it? Those were the thoughts that stirred in Circe's mind, and if Van Kleiss wasn't going to be persuaded into reconsidering his decision, then Circe at least wanted to know for certain what his reasoning was.
"Van Kleiss, I–"
"Let me finish." He interrupted straight away. He knew what Circe was going to ask, the civil yet relentless debate that was sure to follow for someone as pragmatic as she was, and he interrupted her – partially because he didn't have the time or energy to entertain those discussions, but mostly because they hopefully wouldn't be necessary after what he was going to tell her next. "You are not joining The Pack. However, we have been presented with an opportunity to strengthen diplomatic relations–and you know how rare those are–so I would like for you to serve as the very first ambassador of Abysus."
"…Really?" Was all that Circe could say after reclining into her seat in a stunned silence.
"I could think of no better candidate. Though that look on your face tells me you have some objections, or perhaps questions."
"No objections whatsoever, Van Kleiss." Circe clarified with her fist against her chest. "I'm familiar with the duty and responsibilities of an ambassador and I'm honored that you've chosen me for this position…but I don't really understand why."
"Why pick the young woman who has been a boon to our administrative operations?" It was simple praise, but both of them knew it was all that needed to be said. As the ruler of a nation, Van Kleiss relied on the help and expertise of many skilled individuals to keep everything intact; for the exceptional issues, issues that only a nation of EVOs uniquely faced, he had an exceptional team in the form of the Pack, but for everything else he needed the skill and professionalism of specialists that were in short supply at Abysus – or so he thought.
What Van Kleiss valued so much about Circe was her ability to lure out talent that was previously hidden. She was a siren, in the figurative and literal sense, and whether people were drawn in by her friendly demeanor and curiosity, or compelled to offer their aid by way of imperceptible frequencies subliminally altering their behavior, she had a gift – a gift he was sure to exploit to the fullest, just as he had with all of his closest compatriots.
And for Circe, the best way of doing so was outside of The Pack. All Van Kleiss had to do was convince her the same.
"You're more than just a records keeper, Circe, you're a survivor. One that is resilient, pragmatic, resourceful,"
"…Human-passing." Circe added, causing a sly grin to sneak onto Van Kleiss' face.
She didn't doubt everything else Van Kleiss was saying prior, but at the same time, she couldn't help but think that was the defining factor that separated her from the rest of The Pack, and the reason why she, of all people, was chosen for this responsibility over every other EVO that had seniority over her in the political side of things.
She looked the most human, and in his eyes, as well as the rest of the world's, she might as well have been "more human".
To Circe, who wholeheartedly embraced her EVO identity, there was no thought more revolting, and no reality more disappointing than her being reduced to her appearance, but she recognized the privilege that came with it, that the privilege was the entire point, and spoke nothing of it.
For the greater good of Abysus she would do whatever it takes, and Van Kleiss recognized that.
"And most importantly, tactful." He emphasized, empathizing with the disappointment that was visible on her face. "If this trial goes well, Abysus may finally have its statehood recognized and gain some much-needed immunity against Providence hostility. You can do far more good in this position than anywhere else." Van Kleiss reminded her as he passed over the documents to Circe and claspsed his hands together. "Is that answer to your satisfaction?"
With tempered steel in her eyes, Circe asked "Where am I headed?"
To which Van Kleiss replied: "How is your Spanish?"