Chapter 4: Through the Memory Glass
"Are we ready?"
"Yeah."
The young twins sit behind a small dumpster, watching a man in a suit leave a bar in a relatively empty street. Since their flight to the Hub, Stelle and Caleb have been living off of scraps and begging on the streets. Even if they wanted to look for greener pastures, they had no idea where to go. And no caravan was willing to accept extra passengers, let alone stowaways. As weeks stretched to months, the twins grew accustomed to the street urchin life, stealing from any unaware caravanner or merchant. Caleb didn't like it at first, protesting that stealing was wrong, and they were taught better from their parents. Stelle argued, and ultimately convinced him, that there was no other way to survive. While it wasn't the god-awful lawlessness of New Reno, the Hub didn't exactly allow beggars to work in their stores.
And so, the twins resorted to petty crime such as this – pickpocketing and sometimes robbery. Stelle gave a nod towards Caleb, sneaking to the shadows while she approached the lone man leaving the bar. Over the months, they've developed a simple strategy:
"Excuse me sir, do you have any caps?" She asked the man, looking as pathetic and pitiful as possible while she begged.
Naturally, the man refused. "Piss off, girl. Go bother someone else."
"But please sir, I don't have anything to eat." She begged again, standing in front of him now. The man hesitated, which was enough pause for Caleb to do his thing.
"I said piss off!" The man sidestepped around her, leaving Stelle in the dust – not realizing his pockets were a few pounds lighter than they should be. Stelle only grinned as she walked away, meeting back with Caleb at the dumpster.
"So?" The elder twin asked as the younger pulled out a small sack, jingling every time it shook.
"30, maybe 50 caps? Plus a few NCR dollars…100!" Caleb gleefully pulls out the paper bill.
"Yes!" The twins high-fived each other in victory.
"HEY!" Realizing the man found out, the two take off to a sprint as they circle around alleyways and streets, easily losing the man chasing after them, laughing. It was always their favorite part of the hustle, like playing a dangerous game of tag.
It wasn't long until they lost him, walking towards a familiar alleyway where they made camp, next to the market. A small tent and an empty metal drum awaited them. Caleb walked towards the camp with a skip, lighting a fire in the drum.
"Mm, we're eating well tonight!" He rubs his hands excitedly while Stelle chuckles, counting the money.
"Hmm. 100 dollars and about 43 caps. We can replenish our rations for the next week until we go hustling again." She noted.
A groan leaves Caleb's mouth. "But I'm tired of eating Pork N' Beans! We've eaten the same shit over and over." He crosses his arms with a pout.
Stelle shakes her head. "What did I say about the swearing?"
"Nobody cares! We're homeless! It's not like anyone's going to yell at us for saying 'shit'." He retorts, before sighing. "Can we have steak please? I haven't had any since we…left. And they're having a sale today."
She looks at the money in hand before sighing. "Fine. But I'm still going to buy more supplies. And you're coming with me, you're picking the brahmin part."
"Okay!" He jumps up and follows Stelle towards one of the many markets in the Hub. Tonight was particularly busy, with the discounts attracting all kinds of people. Caleb even pickpocketed another poor schmuck on their way to the butcher, though his catch was a measly 10 caps.
They stopped across a storefront with a stylized drawing of a brahmin, with its two scarlet heads gleefully spreading outwards. A plump man with a mustache and an apron was calling people for his cattle meat: brahmin and Bighorner alike. The twins approached him, and the butcher scowled upon seeing them.
"Hrgh. You two again. Ye learnt my lesson of not stealing from me, huh?" He pointed at them with a bloody cleaver. Caleb gulped, but Stelle simply kept her gaze up.
"Sure did. We're here to buy your meat, Mr. Lazar." She raises the 100-dollar bill towards him. "One sirloin please."
"Well, this is new." Mr. Lazar narrowed his eyes before snatching the bill, scratching his behind while he inspected it. "Hm. Seems legit. Ye little bastards probably stole it." The twins glanced at each other, then back at him with a nervous smile.
He only gave a shrug. "Aight. I don't really care, just don't steal from me again." He grunts. "Sirloin, wuzzit?"
"Yep!" Caleb squeaked, much to Stelle's amusement.
"Hmh." He nodded, putting the bill in his pocket before fishing out the change of 30 caps and handing it to Stelle. "Here you go, Mizzy."
"Thanks." She put the caps in the sack.
He was about to turn towards behind him before he turned back around and glared at them. "I'm going to get something from the back, if you two steal anything again I'm cutting yer hands off, you hear?" After a rapid nod from the both of them, he goes to the back of his shop.
Stelle sighs, handing over the rest of the caps to Caleb. "Go buy the rations for us. We need canned food and water for the week." The younger twin looked appalled for a second before pouting. "Fine. It's only fair."
"It's only fair." She repeats as he walks off to buy the necessary supplies. Caleb whistled to himself as he walked towards the general store that the twins regularly visit to resupply. Unlike Mr. Lazar, the store owner of the store is friendlier to them, and she smiles seeing the familiar face of the younger twin.
"Hi Cal! Here to get your usual?" The store owner, a sweet brunette named Emilia, greets him as he enters through the main door.
"Mhm! Do you have a spot for us to work now?" Caleb asked, placing the sack of caps on the countertop.
Emilia giggled, taking the caps before handing out a backpack. "Sorry, Caleb. I don't have any open positions right now. But I'll be sure to let you know when I have some for you. James is asleep though; I'm running solo tonight."
Caleb took the backpack and nodded. "Yeah…thought we could get an actual job for once. I'm getting tired of hustling people, even though we get more money that way…"
He checked the bag: three cans of Pork N' Beans, two liters of dirty water (granted, purified water is a rarity even in the New California Republic) and a box of Fancy Lads snack cakes.
"Will that be all?" Emilia asked.
"Yep, that's all." Caleb nodded, putting the backpack around his shoulders. "Say hi to the assistant for me."
"Will do!"
Caleb exited the general store, walking back to the butcher where his sister was, weaving between the crowd. It looked like it was going to be a smooth night—
"WAS IT ONE OF YA?! HUH?!"
"I have no idea who that was!" Stelle jerked up, looking at Caleb who was just about to approach them. "Uhhh…Have a nice day!" Before he could even comprehend what the hell was going on, she immediately grabbed her brother's wrist and they took off, leaving a furious Mr. Lazar screaming at street urchins stealing his meats.
"What was that about?!" Caleb yelped, holding their supplies for dear life as they sped down alleyways before returning to their home camp once more. "Did you steal something again?!"
"No! It was someone else! Some girl tried to…" She faltered once they arrived back at camp, halting Caleb with her arm outstretched. Someone already beat them to it first.
The aforementioned girl that stole from the butcher was sitting next to their fire, roasting her cut of the meat - seemingly unaware of their presence. She was about the same age as them, with long silvery-blonde hair that went down to her shoulders and fair skin. Her clothing had seen better days, with only a ragged tunic and a short skirt to cover her petite body, along with a brown headband.
The twins slowly and quietly approached her, with Stelle picking up her bat on the way. However, Caleb stepped on an empty can and the girl suddenly turned towards their direction. The both of them stopped, and she stood up in shock, clutching her steak. Her frantic deep ocean blue eyes and shivering stance made it clear she could turn tail any second. Stelle was about to scare her off when Caleb intervened.
"Woah, easy." He put a hand out towards her. "We're not here to hurt you…" He turns to Stelle. "Put the weapon down. She's not gonna cause any more trouble."
"Hm." She follows as she puts the bat on the ground. "You're in our spot." She commented.
"O-oh…" The girl spoke in a soft voice, her eyes now downcast. "I'm sorry. I-I'm going to go now."
"No, no, wait." Caleb insisted. "You can eat with us. Take a seat." He pats a spot for her as he sits down by the fire. Stelle joins them as the new girl sits in between them. She awkwardly glances between them as Stelle starts roasting her steak using a vent cover as a grill and a grilling fork that she may or may have not stolen from Mr. Lazar previously.
"So, what's your name?" Caleb asks, grabbing a water bottle from the bag he used to store the supplies he bought.
"Um…Ariane." The girl answered.
"Okay, where are you from Ariane?" He asked again, attempting to do small talk. She didn't seem keen to answer as she nibbled on the half cooked rib that she tried to roast over their fire.
"Don't push her." Stelle shook her head before handing a piece of roasted sirloin to Caleb. She looked at the rib Ariane was holding and offered a hand. "Want me to cook that for you? It looks a bit too raw."
"...sure." She handed her the steak, hugging her knees. Her small lips quivered as she asked again. "Why are you being nice to me?"
"Hm?"
"Why are you being so…kind?" Ariane asked once more. "No one does that here. What about your spot? It's yours to begin with."
The twins looked at each other, seemingly having some kind of silent conversation before Stelle sighed. "It's what makes us people." She answered. "Our Mama always said to be a light in the darkness." Noticing the confusion on Ariane's face, Caleb chimed in.
"It means we try to be good people, even when the whole world is evil." He explained with a smile. "People call it naïve, but we try our best."
Stelle chuckled. "Yeah. So don't worry. You can stay with us for the night." She handed Ariane her rib, now cooked to a medium rare. "Careful, it's a little hot."
The girl looked at the rib, then back at Stelle with some kind of awe, before she took it and took a bite. From the looks of it, Ariane probably had the closest thing she had to a warm meal.
Caleb couldn't blame her; it was hard to get good food as it is. He took a bite out of his sirloin steak…
[...]
He opened his eyes. What a strange dream.
He yawned as he stretched his legs in the seat of the space shuttle that he occupied. Cracking his neck, he turned his head towards the open window - revealing a marvelous sight of this alien world that he found himself in, shining gold and glitter like a planet sized casino.
And by God he despised how much it reminded him of Vegas.
The mysterious stranger awoke in this new world…No, calling it a world is a vast understatement. He had been transported into a fucking new galaxy. All he remembered was a bright flash, a wave of nausea and then they were in some kind of hotel. Only when he got outside did he actually see that the place he ended up in looked nothing remotely American, let alone Earth-like.
But he wasn't here as a stranger to explore new lands for the sake of exploration, he had a mission to uphold - playing the disguise of his enemy. Long story short, this squad of highly dangerous soldiers he had infiltrated were called the Cohorts, who answered to a mysterious general that came from a secret organization that existed even before the bombs fell. He didn't really care about its history, but these guys were the reason everything went to shit back home…
He sighed to himself. 'The things you do for family.' He thinks.
He opened a device that sat wrapped around his forearm: the Pip-Boy 3000 - a wearable computer that noted things down like inventory of equipment, vitals and data like notes, missions, etc. The man opened his Quest log and checked the briefing.
The operation this group had going (that he was following to keep the disguise) was to track down what's called a…Stellaron? It was described as something highly destructive but with a potential energy output that can exceed even the greatest of nuclear reactors and fusion cores. Whatever this thing was, it can't be good. Interestingly, this was apparently their second expedition into this universe.
"Zerstörer." Interrupted from reading the mission briefing, he turned his head towards a seductive voice that sent a shiver down his spine and not in a good way. Even if it was just the name of the soldier he was pretending to be, it still unsettled him.
"Serena." He responded, seeing the Mexican woman clad in black facing towards him in the shuttle: Sangre Serena, the loyal and ferocious lapdog. There was another next to her, a man dressed in a tuxedo wearing a gold-colored masquerade mask similar to the creeps at the White Glove Society, minus the cannibalism. This guy was apparently their local informant that was going to bring them into that world. There were also more operators of the expeditionary team joining them, but he only knew two of them were at the front driving the shuttle.
"Did you fall asleep too?" She asked in a teasing tone, crossing her legs. "What were your dreams like?"
"It doesn't matter. We're here." He sighed; his voice distorted through the gas mask that he was wearing. His current outfit for the expedition was black combat armor their team usually wore, with the exception of the helmet - which was the one that he usually wore: a combat helmet over a gas mask with green lens, a small radio at the side and a carving at its forehead that read "Forgive Me Mama." When Sangre asked about it, he came up with the simple alibi of a war trophy, taken from a pre-war soldier. She seemed to buy it…for now.
The assassin shook her head in amusement. "I'll admit, when I heard this world could make you see things, I thought they were lying. Seeing people's dreams is surreal."
"Indeed." Their informant remarked. "Penacony truly is the land of dreams." He checked his pocket watch that he fished from his vest pocket before looking at his faceless associates. "We will touch down in a moment, so I expect your end of the bargain. This kind of service doesn't come cheap, you know."
"But of course." Sangre nodded. "The payment will be delivered to you upon our arrival, per our agreement."
The shuttle soon arrived at the space port of Penacony, its doors opening for the trio upon landing. The entrance to the hotel alone, the Reverie their informant called, was massive; perhaps even towering the Lucky 38 tower in Vegas. The man in the masquerade mask went down first, followed by the two other operators, wearing the same outfit the masked man was wearing - except their faces were not covered by masquerade masks but instead wore yellow tinted shades. He was about to follow the group when he was stopped by Sangre.
"Let them handle the security. We go in our own way." She tapped a circular device on her wrist before she suddenly vanished into thin air. Well, sort of, a slight shimmer in the air could still be seen but it was hardly noticeable that it looked like she wasn't there at all. That neat little device was the Stealth Boy.
Zerstörer looked at his own Stealth Boy before inputting the activation code. He too became invisible, as the both of them left the shuttle and snuck through the security checkpoint. Avoiding the metal detectors, cameras and the prying eyes of guards is hard enough, especially with the high security of Penacony. Yet these cloaking devices made things easier for them. Not to mention, the ones Sangre and Zerstorer were using were production Mark II Stealth Boys - meaning longer duration and invisibility to thermal sights. They breezed through the checkpoint and the lobby as the cloaked infiltrators snuck into the Reverie.
Zerstorer avoided the crowds of guests lounging in the lobby and checking into their rooms. While they didn't have to worry about line-of-sight, if either of them bumped into someone, obviously they'd notice a solid object in the way even if they were invisible. Sangre seemed to weave between guests just fine, if not quicker than he was. Once out of the crowds, he heard his "associate" speak into his radio earpiece.
"Strange. I did expect the whole planet to be brimming with the energy signature, but there's another energy source that's closer to us...hmmm…" Confused, the man brought out another device from his pockets, this time it was a tracker with just a simple screen with a small dish attached to it. As Sangre said before, there was a Stellaron signature in the upper floors of the Reverie - though for some reason it was smaller, yet more potent.
"Another Stellaron?" He asked.
"Most likely." Sangre answered, before switching to the main channel. "All units, plans have changed. New target has been designated. Please confirm, over."
"Legion 2-3, confirmed." One of the bodyguards responded. "We'll start our sweep once we've taken care of our benefactor." He added.
"Roger. Legion 2-1 and I will handle securing the target since we're closer." Sangre answered. "I'll see you there."
"I'll take the elevator. Be seeing you." Zerstörer responded, walking over to the nearest elevator. With that, he cut the radio channel.
Now left alone once more, he took a deep breath. He had to find a way to stop these guys, but the biggest firepower he had on him that could be snuck in was his iron, the SMG given to him before the mission, a few grenades, and a sawed-off pump action shotgun with an engraved spade on the receiver, just below the ejecting port. Zerstörer didn't even use that relic. In any case, he'll have to figure out a way to take them out somehow.
For now, he'll have to play his part. Following the coordinates of their new target using his Pip-Boy - it leads him through some kind of public lobby area, with a bar at the center. Thankfully it was only barely occupied, so Zerstörer was able to sneak through. He was a little wary of one of the individuals there, a man with glasses in a brown outfit holding a cane. Something about him felt off, maybe it was the way he looked even while relaxed.
Not delaying any further, he checked his Pip-Boy again. The target was in one of the rooms in this hallway. Before he could start barging into rooms and checking for its occupants, his radio chirped.
"I've found our target. How interesting…" Sangre reported. "Zerstörer, I expect you to be on this floor as we speak?"
"Affirmative. En route to your location now." He replied, switching his waypoint in his Pip-Boy. "What are we looking at?"
"The energy's radiating from a girl. Not just that…she's one of his older subjects…"
"The what?" Zerstörer's eyebrows furrowed underneath his helmet as he soon approached one of the doors in the hallway. "What do you mean by subject?" Suddenly, a figure reappeared into thin air as Sangre de-cloaked, pushing him towards a corner in the hallway where the both of them were out of sight of anybody. He was about to ask when Sangre simply put a finger to her lips, nodding her head towards the door that he was about to try to enter.
The door suddenly opened as a blonde man dressed in turquoise, with a fur coat with a roulette design on his back, left the room. He noticed Sangre narrowing her eyes at the man. "You recognize him?" He spoke through their radio.
"I've read news and files about him, and the company he works for." She responded. "Secure the target. I'll handle him." Sangre cloaked her Stealth Boy once again and began tailing him - leaving Zerstörer by himself. He sighed, de-cloaking to let the Stealth Boy recharge, and was about to move in when he suddenly heard more footsteps.
"Shit." He cursed to himself as he went back to his hiding spot, peeking to see another person standing in front of the door. This time it was a woman in an outfit unrecognizable to him, the only articles he could identify were the crop top and shorts. She seemed to be discussing with the target.
"I need your help." She said, "I'm…lost."
The door opened, presumably so that the target could see the woman better. He couldn't see the target himself though from this angle, but he didn't want the risk to peek.
"Well?" The occupant spoke. Why does her voice sound so familiar…?
"Could you show the direction of the lobby? All these hallways look the same to me." The woman asked again.
Zerstörer slowly pulled out his pistol - a 1911 with a silencer attached to the barrel - and waited. While it was unlikely the woman would go in his direction since he was hiding by a corner that led to a dead end, he had to be careful. He held his breath as the conversation continued, one thing that was digging into his mind. Why did the target sound so much like her?
He peeked again. Apparently, the door was closed on the woman. She looked almost confused, as she gave a sigh. Then she seemed to glance in his direction. A panicked breath escaped him, and he quickly slid back into the wall. He didn't dare move until he heard her leave, the footsteps became fainter and fainter. Once he was sure she was gone, he took a breath of relief. A bit of a scare, but it has come to pass.
He walked over to the door, taking out a screwdriver and a piece of wire fence. Normally he'd use bobby pins to pick locks but the wire lockpick held together much better than them. Upon finding out the door was locked, Zerstörer got to work - feeling for each pin to lock in place before turning the keyhole. In about a second, he unlocked the door and swung it open
Slipping inside, he saw that the room was a lot more luxurious than even the ones in the Strip - it was very spacious; with closets to the side, a table and couches and a very colorful digital background behind a large clamshell tub filled with a strange light cerulean liquid. Then he looked down to see the sole occupant of the room…
"No fucking way…"
Laying down on the tub was a young woman, wearing a black jacket with yellow outlines over a white shirt and a skirt that went down to her lower thigh. Her silvery gray hair was spread out in the mysterious liquid as she dreamed peacefully. Zerstörer checked his Pip-Boy, seeing the target icon blinking in front of his position. So many questions bombarded his brain as he approached the tub slowly. Step by step, he stopped by the side of the tub to have a better look at the girl. He even had to take off his helmet, just to see it without any lens blocking his eyes. Even with the clothing change, she looked just like how he last saw her.
"Sis…" He muttered, reaching his hand out to feel her face. This had to be some sick joke, or some kind of fever dream. Stelle had disappeared off the face of the Earth after what she did in the Mojave, and he had spent the last five years trying to look for her. To think that in all of his searching, he didn't even fathom that he would find her very, VERY far from home…
But feeling the touch of her soft skin and her hair…No, this was real. She was right here in the flesh. His chest felt heavy as his search had been completed. Caleb finally found his twin.
"This is Sangre. I've taken care of the gambler. Move to phase II." The radio transmission came from his headset. Caleb bit the inside of his cheek before he put his helmet back on. The celebration will have to wait, there was Sangre and the Cohorts to worry about. "Zerstörer, do you have the Stellaron?"
"Affirmative. She's lying down in some tub of liquid, over." He replied to his radio. "Shall I move her?"
"Don't move her, 2-1." Legion 2-3 replied. "Our informant said if we try to move her, you'll be affected by the liquid…the memoria…Oh, fucking hell. You'd get sucked into some fucking dream world and they somehow will know about unknown guests. The whole security will be on our asses, underpowered they may be."
"Then we'll have to be quick. We've got our target, but we need to clear the lobby." Sangre replied. "All units, prepare for assault."
"Roger." A deep, almost metallic growl came into the radio. Caleb shuddered as to what the hell these guys had on them. He gripped his fists. He couldn't play this game any longer, and more people are just going to get killed.
So instead, he looked at Stelle's unconscious body. Dream world, huh? It seems like there was no way to wake her up physically without him getting dragged into it. So he got into the tub, lying next to her body. He'll just have to drag her out of there himself.
"Wake up, sis." He said before closing his eyes.
System Hours earlier…
"Why is there a giant eyeball…?"
Stelle muttered, approaching an intricate doorway bathed in a pale blue light. The only other notable feature of this door was the giant eyeball that sat in the center. Seeing that there was no door handle to open said door, Stelle wondered if this was really a store.
"Trailblazer from the Astral Express — Welcome to Dreamscape Sales Store!" A disembodied voice interrupted her train of thought as Stelle looked around.
"Who the hell is talking?" She muttered, turning her head left and right.
"That would be me! Just in front of you!" The voice answered, making Stelle turn towards the door…no, the eyeball. "Yes, that's it. I am the Dreamscape Sales store, but I go by the name of Dr. Edward, and I'm happy to be at your service!"
"So, the giant eyeball speaks. What's next?" Stelle commented, rubbing her eyes. "How do you know who I am?"
"It's the magic of psychoanalysis, madam. Dr. Edward is happy to assist you!" The eyeball replied. She suddenly shuddered at the mention of 'doctor'. She didn't know why but the mental image of a giant robotic scorpion came into her head…
"Here's where you get to experience all sorts of fascinating dreamscapes — from the top-notch productions of Clock Studios to private donations, we have it all!" The eyeball continued. "If I'm not mistaken, this is your first visit to Penacony, isn't it?"
"Yes?"
"Alright then! Please be rest assured that Dr. Edward will provide the best service you can find in helping you purchase your first Dreamscape and indulge in an exclusive and marvelous dreamland journey…..And that's the end of my analysis! I'm sure you'll be a fan of this dream bubble!" A spherical orb of memoria appeared before her. "Hm. This is an interesting one. This contribution by an anonymous donor was specifically made for you – about a memory of one called Courier Six."
She froze. "H-how do you know that name?"
"It's the magic of psychoanalysis, madam!" Dr. Edward replied.
"Psychoanalysis, sure…" Stelle looked at the bubble, a beige glow underneath the blue memoria. "Who the hell sent me this?"
"I apologize but the donor chose to remain anonymous." The eyeball replied, like it was a prerecorded message.
"Okay…Do I pay anything?"
"None! Dr. Edward promises to let every new customer enjoy their first dream bubble for free. Well, let's begin. Please close your eyes and rest your forehead against the dream bubble."
Stelle blinked. She has been thinking about her memories after all, and still had so many questions. She pressed her forehead against the dream bubble and viewed the memory.
[...]
Her eyes opened and she was greeted with a different sight. Instead of the dirty alleyways of the Hub, she was inside of a vehicle overlooking a desert wasteland. Upon hearing the loud roar of the engine, she recognized the vehicle to be a heavy duty truck in some kind of convoy.
Stelle looked down, realizing her past self had changed as well. Instead of the 12 year old in tattered clothes trying to survive, she was much older now, and was wearing some kind of beige armor composed of a khaki tunic with bellowed hip pockets and khaki breeches; along with a brown cloth around her neck supposedly to be a face wrap, leather pauldrons on her shoulders, arm wraps and fingerless gloves. On her feet were combat boots and wraps for her legs as well, and on her waist were two square pouches and a pouch for a water canteen. Lastly, an armored breastplate covered the chest area where her heart and lungs were. There was a symbol on it as well: a golden two-headed bear, a red star and the letters "N.C.R". Stelle looked at the symbol, wondering if this NCR group was related to her in some way.
"Can't believe we made it." A familiar voice came to her left, and Stelle turned to see her twin brother Caleb, wearing a helmet with a conical brim and the same combat fatigues as her, behind the wheel. "Months of training and look at us, driving all the way to the Mojave."
"You tell me." Stelle heard herself speak, still sounding younger than she is now. "I can still hear the drill sergeant yelling at me to run up the 5 mile hill in full heavy armor."
"Oh, God. I hated wearing that. I couldn't see anything out of that face plate." Caleb added. Both shuddered at the mention before the two laughed it off. Present Stelle couldn't help but smile - she and her brother seemed to be very close.
"Hey, what's the ruckus back there?" Another female voice, this one unfamiliar to Present Stelle, came from the back of the truck. Caleb opened a small window in between them that gave them a view of the back, showing crates with military gear and supplies.
And on the other side of that window was a silvery-blonde-haired girl with a headband around the same age as them, also wearing NCR fatigues, but with an ammo bandolier across her chest. What Present Stelle found a little mesmerizing were her eyes - a deep ocean blue.
"It's fine, Ariane." Caleb replied. "How're the supplies?"
The girl, Ariane, peeked behind her before turning back to Caleb. "All is well. Ugh, it's so boring in the back." She pouted.
"At least you get the machine gun." Past Stelle snarked. "I know Caleb would want that."
"And I would." Caleb chuckled, now with one hand on the wheel. "Want me to keep the window open for you? It's a little hot here in the front, anyway."
Their sentry giggled, leaning against the back and cradling a large rifle with a long barrel, a box magazine and a bipod next to her. Stelle would recognize this to be called an Automatic Rifle during basic training. "That would be nice."
As the banter settled down and silence fell between the trio, Past Stelle sighed and looked out the window. "Hey Caleb?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever think about returning back home?"
Caleb's eyes closed for a moment before sighing. "And facing that monster? …Yeah, I do. But I'm just glad that I'm…we're lucky we're alive right now. With the New California Republic Army? At least we get hot food and shelter."
"Yeah. There's that. Doesn't change the fact Dad's still there…" Past Stelle's gaze began to wander, slowly getting bored of the desolate plains of sand, the surprisingly numerous amounts of desert rocks…
BOOM!
"HOLY FUCK!" The twins watched the truck in front of them suddenly explode as Caleb slammed his foot at the brakes. Present and Past Stelle lurch forward, stopped by a few leather belts making up a makeshift seat belt.
"You alright?" Caleb asked.
She groaned. "Dizzy, but fine." She watched her brother pull out a 9mm pistol from his waist, making Past Stelle grab a weapon from her right side hidden between the passenger seat and the door. Present Stelle watched in awe as her past self pulled out a full-length pump-action shotgun, loading a few shells into the tube before pumping the action.
"AMBUSH!" Ariane hollered from the back, as Stelle could hear her cock the weapon before the deafening roar of .308 rounds followed suit. She could see from the sides of the convoy that figures hiding amongst the rocks were shooting at them. She and Caleb ducked into the cover of the armored doors.
"Fuck me. They weren't kidding." Caleb commented as he checked the ammo of his pistol, before turning to Stelle. "Ready?"
"On your go."
Present Stelle watched through the eyes of her past self as she prepared for combat. Was this the part that Benny said that she killed people? She felt queasy at the thought, but her curiosity and investment to this memory won her over. She braced herself to see blood…except the moment her past self aimed her shotgun at one of the raiders and pulled the trigger, the memory froze.
[...]
"What?" Stelle pulled away from the bubble, confused and extremely unfulfilled that she wasn't able to see herself kick ass. "Aw come on, what gives?"
"I'm sorry, but that's all for the content of this dream bubble. How was your experience?" The eyeball replied.
"If I hadn't been interrupted, I'd say it would've been awesome." She grumbled.
"Haha, this dream bubble aligns with what you desire in your subconscious! If you're interested in experiencing the dream bubble again, you can purchase it with credits…"
"Never mind." Stelle rolled her eyes. She refused to even listen to the salesman's protest as she left the Dreamscape Sales Store. Pulling out her phone, she quickly sent a message to March 7th.
Stelle: Checked out the store. I got scammed :(
With nothing much else to do, she sighed and began to explore around the Golden Hour dreamscape. Sure, the giant gashapon and slot machines were nice - but she couldn't get the memory of her, her brother and that girl Ariane out of her head. Especially the mention of the New California Republic. What country even is that? Was she and Caleb born in that foreign country? Does the Astral Express even know that place exists? She might have to ask Dan Heng about that later.
Before she could pull out her phone to message the archivist about it, her ears were drawn towards a commotion.
"She went that way. Get her!"
"Don't even think about running away, you stowaway!"
Stelle looked up from her phone to see a small crowd surrounding someone, likely the Bloodhound family getting some troublemaker and some guests witnessing it. As she got close though, she finally took a look at the individual surrounded - and promptly dropped her phone.
"Ariane?"
A/N: Welcome to 2025, ladies and gentlemen!
A bit of a short chapter, mostly to set up something that I'm looking forward to making.
As always, thank you for your time. Criticism is welcome, just don't bash for no good reason.
Hope to see you then.