《Magical Girl Mechanical Heart》


 1. Beautiful Little Weapon

    "...Remarkably good, and remarkably quick, at pausing a task at any given point, swapping to a different task, and then swapping back at the exact point it left and resuming without any loss of information. This is called ''context switching,'' and while we as humans often struggle with it greatly, it''s part and parcel to how computers function, and how they give off the appearance of being able to do so many things simultaneously."


    I fail to stifle a yawn, only half paying attention as my computer science professor drones on. I know enough of this already to get the answers right on a multiple-choice test, and that happens to be the hard limit of my ability to force my brain to pay attention. The rest just starts floating past my ears, which have been tricked into ignoring real sounds by the song I''m playing in my head over and over. But when my mind wanders, my eyes inevitably wander too, always finding their way to rest on her.


    Castalia.


    I know I''m a bit of a rude creep for staring so much, but I can''t seem to get myself to stop. I sit a couple rows behind her, so I''m at least unlikely to be bothering her with it. She probably doesn''t know I''m doing it at all, unless she has some kind of magic that tells you if people are watching you without needing to look at them. Though if she does, I know that I''d never want to cast a spell like that even if I could.


    But I can''t, of course. I was never chosen.


    The professor calls on Castalia for a question and she stands up to answer it. As she talks, the stump of her left arm moves and wiggles in meaningless ways, only a quarter of a comprehensible gesticulation, as her entire right arm simply doesn''t exist at all. Not even as a smaller stump. It has been utterly scoured away, shoulder and all, which is easy to tell because Castalia leaves none of it to the imagination. She wears a light spaghetti strap tank top that proudly exposes the twisted scars to the air. The lingering memory of an unimaginable wound crawls all the way up the right side of her neck and face, the eye milky white and the skin red, wrinkled, and dry.


    One working eye. Zero point five arms. And yet the girl stands in front of me, in an introductory college computer science course, blandly answering the professor''s question in the same raspy, disinterested voice she seems to respond to everything in.


    She''s absolutely beautiful.


    There are no reservations to that statement. I love her short brown hair, always looking only halfway combed. I love the way she dresses, simple and cute and startlingly normal, just shorts and sneakers that someone might jog in. I love her scars and I love the way she looks so small and soft despite them¡­ and despite being fully capable of killing everyone in the room with her mind. I am enraptured by her.


    And yes, I mean that in a gay way, but if I''m being honest with myself I probably mostly mean it in a jealous way.


    I guess that might seem weird, being jealous of someone who suffered and lost so much. Yet when she sits back down, her pencil rises all on its own, taking notes without any need for a hand to hold it. For all her injuries, it would be stupid to think of her as disabled. If anything, we''re the ones that are lacking, failing to walk in her world. The world of magic.


    "Hey!" someone hisses quietly at me, and I jolt a little in my seat. Shoot, did I start humming in class again? Sorry, sorry, I''ll stop, I didn''t mean to bother anyone!


    "My laptop''s getting repaired," the voice continues. "I''m really sorry, but would you mind sharing¡­?"


    I glance over at the voice, my whole body still coiled like a spring as I stare into the pleading eyes of the guy next to me, grinning awkwardly my way as the entire rest of the class opens the book up on their laptops to¡­ whatever page the professor just instructed them to while I wasn''t listening. Uh. Shoot.


    "Sure," I manage to croak out, hating the word, hating myself, as I scoot my laptop over to rest between us. I wave my arms in a way that vaguely communicates he''s allowed to use it, and the guy smiles wide and thanks me, taking the wireless mouse and flipping the textbook to the correct page. I try to do my best to read it, to listen to our professor, but It''s just¡­ hard. I simply do not care very much. I like computers and I know a bit of programming, but this class isn''t going to be important to my major or anything. Probably. Even though I''m nearly done with my second year of college, I still don''t actually have a major picked out.


    Despite my efforts, I end up spending most of the period quietly tapping my leg to the beat of the song in my head. I''m tempted to pull out some sheet music and write it down, see if I can make it into something later, but it''s probably not worth the effort. I''m really enjoying the music classes I''m taking, but I know I don''t have the talent or work ethic to actually turn a music major into a paying career.


    A soft pulse of unexpected warmth passes over me like a wave when your head''s underwater, a foreign feeling of undirected love. It''s beautiful, brightening my mood in moments, but when it passes my heart can''t help but skip a beat when I see the source.


    A white, shining cat, feathered wings sprouting from its shoulder blades, floats in the middle of the classroom. My mouth gapes. My soul yearns. Is it really¡­ after all this time, am I¡­?


    "Castalia," the cat says, turning to her.


    Oh. Duh. Of course.


    "...I''m retired," Castalia says blandly to the flying, magical cat.


    "We know," the cat answers. "We know, and we''re sorry. But it''s¡­ this is a big one. They''re going to need your help. Please."


    The girl and the cat stare at each other, and then without a word Castalia''s laptop closes and packs itself into her backpack. She stands up, the pack slinging itself over her one fully intact shoulder, and then she continues going up, rising ever so slightly off the ground. The entire time, her expression doesn''t change in the slightest.


    "I will go," Castalia says simply.


    "Thank you," the cat answers, and the two of them vanish in a flash of light and love.


    The whole classroom is silent. Haltingly, hesitantly, after a few off-color jokes, the professor determines that no sirens are blaring and so class will continue. Wherever the apparent crisis is, it isn''t here. Though obviously, I''m not the only person who seems to have trouble paying attention when the class resumes.


    Castalia. She was one of the first magical girls, and is possibly the strongest, but she''s far from the last. To this day, new children are still getting chosen. I wanted to be one. If I''m being honest with myself, I still do. I want to be strong, not weak and cowardly. I want to be cute, not frumpy and awkward. I want to be loved, not hated and forgotten. But I''m well past the age where such a thing could happen to me, so like most people I suppose I''ll have to be content with that, loudly protesting the ethical abhorrence of child soldiers while secretly and stupidly wishing that one of those children had been me.


    Class ends with me feeling like I wasted my time, though at least the guy next to me is appreciative. It would be the perfect opportunity to try to get even a single friend at this stupid college, but¡­ no. I can''t even bring myself to ask his name, and soon enough he gets up and walks off after one more thank you. Nice going, Luna. Could you quit being a coward for just once in your life?


    I''m not mute. I can talk. But it never brings me anything but trouble, and I hate it so much I''ve often been tempted to learn sign language and pretend to be mute anyway. Of course, I know that''s stupid and utterly absurd, so I''ve never actually tried to do it. I probably wouldn''t be able to stick with it enough to actually learn on my own anyway.


    I sigh, shake the thoughts away, and head to my next class as well. It goes even worse than the one before, and so for my third class of the day I just ditch, trudging back to my dorm hungry from a lack of breakfast and generally feeling miserable. I know this is a bad idea, but¡­ fuck it. It''s just some required history course. Rote memorization and regurgitation of information. Useless, annoying, and easy. I''ll miss whatever questions on the test are taught today, but who cares? My parents don''t get to micromanage my goddamn report card anymore, so I''ll survive a B or a C.


    I get that this isn''t a healthy, productive mindset, but it''s the only mindset I can muster right now as I unlock the door to my room and flop face-first onto my bed. I should eat food, but I don''t want to. Nothing sounds appealing, and I''m pretty sure I''m out of most of the food I keep in my dorm anyway. But it''s fine. It''s cool. I''ll just keep lying here and being an idiot.


    Did I take my pills this morning? Ugh, I probably¡­ right, I definitely forgot, because I didn''t eat breakfast and I have to take my pills after I eat. That explains a thing or two. Bluh. My body sucks.


    I need to get up.


    I definitely need to get up. I''m really hungry.


    I pull out my phone, and a few hours pass. The ache in my stomach is now just more dull background to the general shittiness of how I feel, but eventually, long after it would really be helpful, the pain convinces me to get out of bed and drag myself towards one of the many fast food places hogging the area around campus. It''s dark out already, despite it being barely four o''clock in late April. The clouds overhead and the sucking, clammy feeling outside seeming simultaneously unnatural and perfectly normal. The Dark World is close, but it doesn''t feel like it''s at risk of a convergence. Not here. Not right now. I know what that feels like, and it isn''t this. But I suppose that somewhere within a hundred miles or so is probably getting attacked by monsters. I idly open up a convergence tracker app to check (which just works based on people updating it manually) and¡­ yep. That explains it. There''s a kaiju just outside of Denver. That''s hours away from here, though, and it looks like it''s rampaging in the opposite direction to us. So¡­ no big deal, I guess.


    It''s kind of funny, thinking about it now, how people can get used to basically anything.


    I put the hood up on my baggy sweatshirt and keep walking, stomach gurgling in protest because being in the process of solving its problems doesn''t mean that the problem is solved. I wonder what I''ll actually get. Maybe a sandwich? Chicken fingers? Just something simple and inoffensive, something with a basic texture and flavor that won''t bother my mouth while it''s making its way to my stomach. I don''t have the energy to eat anything more complicated than that.


    My phone buzzes suddenly, a notification popping over the tracking app telling me that I just got a message from my best friend.


    [MeanBeanMachine]: Luna!!! I saw there''s a big attack in Denver! That''s close to you, right? Are you okay!?


    I stare at the message and smile. Yep. My best friend, a person that lives in a completely different state whose real name I don''t even know. My name is actually Luna, of course, but I genuinely don''t remember if I''ve told them that; it''s just also part of my online tag.


    [LunaLightOTK]: I''m fine, Bean. The kaiju''s headed away from me.


    [MeanBeanMachine]: All of the kaiju?


    [LunaLightOTK]: ¡­There''s more than one?


    That''s¡­ wow. That hardly ever happens. I hope¡­ I don''t know what to hope. A lot of people are definitely dead, but what can I do about it?


    [MeanBeanMachine]: Yeah there''s more than one!!! Biggest attack in three years, they said. Even Castalia is there!


    [LunaLightOTK]: I know, a Preserver showed up in CS 150B to pick her up.


    [MeanBeanMachine]: WHAT


    [LunaLightOTK]: Yeah, it was pretty wild.


    [MeanBeanMachine]: HOW ARE YOU ONLY TELLING ME ABOUT THIS NOW!?


    [LunaLightOTK]: Oh. Uh. Because I forgot my pills this morning and I''ve been super depressed all day, I guess.


    [MeanBeanMachine]: Oh valid. Feel better, friend! <3


    I smile a little at that.


    [LunaLightOTK]: Thanks.


    Bean starts typing a response, but I don''t get to see it because it is at that point that I walk face-first into someone else, nearly tripping and falling over from sheer surprise. I look up, an apology already on my lips even though the person I just headbutted didn''t stumble back at all, but the words die before I can speak them the moment I see her.


    My first thought is that I have somehow horribly miscalculated, and I am about to be mauled to death by a monster from the Dark World. But¡­ no. It''s a person. A woman. She''s not attacking me, but she''s clearly not¡­ I don''t even know where to start with her appearance. Her clothes, maybe? Her outfit is regal, refined, yet extremely revealing, a black and purple parody of the much more modest dresses magical girls are prone to wear. But really, I''m probably focusing on the outfit to remind myself that yes, this is a human being, because so many other aspects of her seem to suggest otherwise.


    Black, feathered wings emerge from her back, wrapping around her shoulders like a cape. An enormous, lizard-like tail extends out from the bottom of her spine, slowly snaking behind me to cut off my escape. A third eye grows from her forehead, and all three of her eyes are frighteningly inhuman, with black sclera and purple irises that track my face unerringly, forcing my own gaze away from her smiling face, her lips just barely open enough to show the fangs within.


    But most inhuman of all are the jagged crystals growing all over her body, down her spine to the tip of her tail, framing the cheekbones of her face, emerging around the crown of her head like horns, and tipping her fingers with deep violet claws. The crystals are the same that grow all over the monsters that emerge from the Dark World, covering them so heavily that some of them struggle to move under the weight. The crystals can form in all sorts of different colors, but this woman''s are all purple, just like her eyes.


    I don''t know who this is. I''ve never seen her before in my life. But she. Is. Dangerous. I need to leave. I need to leave right now.


    "Are you alright, dear?" the woman asks, her voice melodic like a siren''s.


    I nod vigorously, not wanting to speak to her, needing to run from her, but when I step away I only trip on her tail and land on my butt.


    "Oh! Apologies," she smiles at me. "That one was my fault. Do let me help you up."


    She leans over and extends her hand down to me, and though my heart is pounding, my fight, flight, or freeze has always been more of a freezer. I stare at her, saying nothing, doing nothing. She stares back, her expression getting more and more amused before she eventually opts to lean even further down, placing her hand on top of mine and gently grabbing it.


    "There''s nothing to be afraid of, dear," she smiles. "I''m not here to hurt you."


    Carefully, she helps me back to my feet, and I just sort of¡­ let her. I was already having trouble thinking straight from the depression and hunger, so the terrifying monster woman is just causing a full short-circuit here.


    "There you are, no worse for wear," the woman hums, still staring at me with that smile. "Hmm. I thought I already knew, but looking at you¡­ what''s your name, dear?"


    My name. My name. What do I say? What do I tell her? My real name? A fake name? I can''t bring myself to speak, to let someone like her hear me.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Hmm. A quiet one, aren''t you?" she asks. "Or perhaps you''re just stunned speechless. Well, it''s no matter, I''m sure we will have plenty of time to get to know each other. I am Melpomene, and it is wonderful to meet you, dear."


    What? ''Plenty of time?'' What is she talking about? Am I being kidnapped?


    "You see, dear," Melpomene continues, "I''m looking to make the world a better place, and I need like-minded individuals to help me with that. You might not know it, but you''re more than qualified for what I have in mind. You''re perfect."


    My heartbeat roars in my ears, my breath shallow as I stare up at her. Her crystalline horns glitter in the light, like the worst of the monsters from the other world. There''s something so tangibly powerful about her, so primally terrifying and instinctively alluring. But I don''t trust her. I can''t trust her.


    She''s obviously a liar. She called me perfect.


    "Ah, there''s a reaction," she says with a smile. "You look quite suspicious of me! No wonder the Preservers passed you up. They prefer their pawns to be a bit more¡­ credulous."


    Okay, cool, she''s dissing the flying cats so she''s one hundred percent an enemy of the magical girls. I definitely need to get out of here and get help, but how am I going to outrun a literal monster?


    "Come on, dear," the woman says, gently reaching out and guiding my shoulder with her claws. "Walk with me. Let''s clear that head of yours."


    Pinpricks of crystal poking into me discourage me from saying no, so I follow her, the street oddly empty and the sky oddly dark. I need to turn around, to run the other way, but her tail swishes behind my ankles, her eyes watch me closely, and I know there''s nothing I can do that she isn''t allowing me. I walk alongside her.


    She''s tall. Very tall. But looking past her imposing figure and condescending manner of speech, she doesn''t look all that much older than me. ¡­I guess that''s probably hard to tell for people with magic powers, though. Castalia looks younger than me, but I know she''s a few years older than me, too. She just started college late because she was busy getting her arms blown off saving the world.


    I wish she would save me again. But¡­ that''s not happening, is it? She''s off solving problems far more important than my own. There''s no one here to save me. I''m alone.


    "Really, dear, you don''t need to be so frightened!" Melpomene insists. "I can feel it oozing off of you. Relax. I would never go to all this trouble just to hurt you. The opposite, in fact. I want to help you."


    Yeah that''s super believable coming from a lady with purple horns and a fishnet bra.


    "You doubt me, but it''s true," she hums, reaching down the front of her shirt and pulling a perfectly cut crystal out between two fingers. "I want you to be a hero."


    My eyes go wide. No way. I know what that is. Castalia wears one in a brooch on her chest, one that she never takes off. Though while hers is a bright, vibrant yellow, this one is a dull clear, a vaguely milky quartz waiting to be filled with color. All magical girls have one. It''s what makes them magical girls at all.


    And I realize that, nestled in her hair, the monster has one of her own. The same deep purple as the crystals growing out of her body, but while those are chaotic and organic, the one in her hair ornament is intricately crafted, just like the one she now holds.


    A transformation stone. She''s offering me a transformation stone.


    "Hahaha. Tempted, aren''t you?" the woman laughs with a fanged grin.


    That''s impossible. Completely, utterly impossible. Only the Preservers can give those away, but this woman has two. Who is she? What is she? A magical girl corrupted by the Dark World, maybe? A resident of the Dark World? But I''ve always been under the impression that there''s nothing in the Dark World other than monsters.


    ¡­But I don''t really know anything, do I? The Dark World is just¡­ the Dark World. It''s dark. That''s all I really know for sure. Magical girls kind of live in their own little universe, strictly isolated from normal society. They protect us from monsters and the occasional other disaster, and that''s pretty much it. They don''t do interviews, they don''t share information, they don''t really follow the rules of the rest of society in general. They just showed up one day, shortly after monsters started invading from rifts between dimensions, and while they''ve been around for a decade and a half now, information is still pretty sparse. It''s almost certainly being actively suppressed somehow or another, but still. The one thing we do know is that magical girls are heroes.


    There are conspiracy theories, obviously. Some people think they cause the rifts in the first place. Some people think they''re trying to take over the world, hoarding magic to enact some global war of supremacy. Some people think they already rule everything from the shadows. But I go to class with one of the only magical girls with a public identity and she''s¡­ well, she''s just a girl. A girl who has been saving lives since before she was even ten years old. A girl whose dedication to protecting others is burned directly onto her face. She saved me, many years ago, like she probably has for most people that live in this city. There''s probably a lot going on behind the scenes that I don''t know. I get that. But even if I can''t trust an entire secret magical society, I feel like I can at least trust Castalia.


    ¡­Despite the fact that I''ve never actually spoken to her. But. Y''know. Still.


    "Still nothing to say?" the woman asks.


    I nod. I don''t like speaking.


    "I see. Well, let''s try a few yes or no questions then, hmm? I imagine you''re wondering ''why would she pick me,'' yes?"


    I nod. The question has passed through my mind. The woman plays with the transformation stone between her fingers, smiling at it, taunting me with it. She knows I want it badly. It''s clear on her face. But I can hardly be the only person desperate enough for power that I''d be tempted no matter the source.


    "You were a top candidate, you know," the woman says. "You were almost, almost chosen, many years ago."


    I stare at her. What? Like, chosen to be a magical girl? How does she know that? Why does she know that? What does it even mean, to be ''almost'' chosen?


    "Magic comes from emotion, dear," Melpomene continues. "You can burn your own feelings for power, ignite them like gasoline in an engine. Not many are suited for it, but you¡­ you had the drive. I think you still do."


    I''m barely even listening. I''m just staring at the gem in her hand, at the one-way ticket to being free of my shitty life, my shitty body, my shitty, worthless, powerless existence. Yet even now, in this life-changing moment, my mind wanders. It wonders. It doubts.


    There''s no way this is actually happening to me.


    "With this gem, you could become like them," she says. "Better than them, even, without a decade of indoctrination shackling you down. You''ll be free to fight in the way you want to, doing what you think is right. Not some slave to an alien overlord that worships the status quo."


    This is too good to be true.


    "What say you, dear?" The monster in women''s clothes grins at me, her eyes black and her fangs white. "Care to save the world?"


    Things this miraculous don''t happen to me. There''s a catch. And damn, I wonder what it could be? I wonder what red flags this monster woman accosting me alone while the local superheroes are out fighting Godzillas could possibly be raising! Jesus Christ, what a day. What a fucking day.


    I shake my head. I don''t need a monkey''s paw.


    "...Pardon?" the woman asks, her smile finally dropping. "I can tell you want it, dear. What possible reason could you have for saying no?"


    I take a deep breath, psyching myself up.


    "Because you look like you get thrown off a cliff at the end of a Disney movie," I croak.


    She gapes.


    "Excuse me!?"


    I glower at her, irritated that she can be offended by something so obvious.


    "Did you really expect me to agree just like that?" I ask her, my voice quiet from embarrassment and disuse. "You basically said you wanted your pawns to be incredulous."


    "You rude little thing," she glowers at me. "I''m here to give you your dream."


    "And what happens if I take it?" I ask her. "Does it turn me into your slave? Does it steal my soul so you can use it as fuel?"


    "Would you like it to, you little worm?" she growls. "I''m sure something could be arranged."


    "Oh, okay," I mutter. "That''s definitely going to convince me you aren''t evil."


    Her hand flashes out and grabs me by the jaw, pulling me in towards her face so she can stare me down in fury. It would almost be hot, if not for the burning discomfort I feel from her touching my face.


    "I liked you better when you were quiet," she hisses.


    "Yeah," I agree softly. "Most people do. Can I go now?"


    She growls at me, low and feral, her teeth grinding with a fury that feels slightly out of proportion for just being told ''no.'' I guess I could have been a little nicer about it, but self-preservation has never been one of my strong suits. Still, it''s not my fault her PR is terrible.


    I''m probably going to die now, aren''t I?


    Oh, well. If that''s the hand I''ve been dealt, what other cards can I play? It''s better than being turned into some pawn in a magic game I don''t even understand the rules of. But as I prepare myself for the end, the monstrous woman presses her lips together, takes a deep breath through her nose, and pauses, calming herself down. Or at least, it looks like she''s calming herself down, but when she speaks it sounds anything but calm.


    "You know what?" she asks with false pleasantness. "Yes. You can go."


    She thrusts me forward, yanking me by the jaw and causing me to stumble a good distance before I finally stop. I know it''s a mistake before I even start moving, but I can''t stop myself in time, a wretched, cloying pressure increasing with every step, the sky getting darker and darker around me. The air feels like it''s trying to choke me, crawl inside me, seep through my skin and open me up. Melpomene walks up next to me, but she isn''t even looking my way. She''s just staring at the dark sky, up at something I can''t even see as my vision starts to cloud.


    "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?" she sighs, and then I black out.


    I wake up expecting pain, but instead I feel¡­ nothing. Nothing at all. Terror fills me, but it doesn''t feel like terror, not how I know it. There are no quickened breaths, no tightness in my chest, no tension of muscles waiting to spring. There''s just¡­ nothing. And in a weird way, that seems to calm me down.


    So. This is what sensory deprivation feels like. I could honestly see it being kind of nice, were I not terrified of what could be causing it. I must have been thrown into the Dark World somehow, but I barely even have any idea what the Dark World is. Why did I pass out? Am I dead? Have I been paralyzed? What happened?


    No answers are forthcoming, however. The closest I get is a sudden indescribable feeling¡ªI want to call it cold, but it isn''t, not really¡ªpiercing inside me, not quite painful but certainly uncomfortable as it expands and grows like a metallic tree branch, a set of thorns growing on thorns exploring the inside of my soul. I want to shout or scream but I can''t do anything, I can''t move a muscle or take a breath because I''m not breathing at all, I''m drowning, I''m being torn apart by this thing growing inside me until it pierces back out in a dozen places and keeps growing, coiling around me like a shell. What is it where''s my body what''s happening what''s happening what''s happening help help help someone please¡ª


    Feeling. Everything comes back all at once, but all of it is different.


    I am neither hot, nor cold, but it is exactly sixty-three point eight degrees Fahrenheit, which is seventeen point six degrees Celsius, which is four hundred and fourteen point one degrees Pyulor. Wait, what''s¡ª


    Pyulor is a temperature system that counts from absolute zero, like Kelvin.


    ¡ªPyuloookay. Okay okay okay okay. That''s totally a normal thing to know. Why can I still not feel my¡­ Oh. I can. I''m lying on my back, and there''s definitely something hard beneath me. Metal. Similar in composition to my frame, which is¡ª


    My frame? What the fuck I have a frame?


    ¡ªin perfect condition, unscuffed, so the hardness of the surface isn''t quite the same; similar yet subtly inferior. My power reserves¡ª


    My power reserves are at 23%.


    ¡ªare enough to maintain an estimated fourteen hours of runtime outside of high-performance modes and assuming zero mana conversion intake, thirteen minutes at maximum specs, one week, two days, eleven hours if assuming current mana conversion intake is maintained. Which is¡­ What? What does that¡ª


    I''m detecting mana input from¡ª


    ¡ªNo! Fuck this, fuck this, fuck this, this is too much, too fast, I don''t understand this I don''t want to understand this what happened to me what happened what happened what happened I just want to open my eyes and wake up!


    My optical sensors flicker online.


    I look up at what appears to be a ceiling, in the sense that it is a solid constructed surface over my head, but I could also accurately describe it as a sculpture. It looks like stone, but spirals and winds up to a central point like a snail''s shell. It''s surprisingly pretty, and surprisingly¡­ clear. Like I don''t need to focus on any particular part of it, because my peripheral vision is just as clear as whatever I''m¡­ looking¡­ at.


    Why can''t I move my eyes? Why do I not need to?


    "Green, hmm?" a horribly familiar voice says to herself, and I feel a woman''s finger on my thigh. But even that is wrong; there''s too much detail and yet nowhere near enough, no sensation of the pressure indenting my skin, no electric shortness of breath at the unexpected intimacy. I don''t move, don''t react, even though I''m certain I tried to gasp, to flinch, to say or do anything at all.


    The finger slides further down towards my knee, tracing the soul crystal pathways that-that-that-that arc down my legs, interlaced with the metal¡­ the metal¡­!


    I already know it. I already know what I am. It''s there, in my mind, in my memory, like the exact ambient temperature in three different measuring systems, one of which I''ve never even heard of before. I know my own specs list, I know my own blueprints, I know literally exactly what I am. But I don''t want to think about it. I don''t want to believe it. How, why, what¡­? This doesn''t make any sense, this sort of thing should be completely impossible!


    "Well, it appears to be online," that horrible, monstrous woman says. I can''t see her, my eyes¡­ my optical sensors aren''t pointed her way, but I know exactly where she is, I know where she''s standing, I know the layout of the room around me, I just know it, it''s all in my mind, which is¡­!


    "Sit up," she orders, and I have to sit up, so I do. "Well, well, well. Now this is certainly useful."


    I¡­ I barely even thought about that. I did that, I sat up, that¡­ was on purpose. But I chose to do it because I had to do it? Like. Like it wasn''t what I wanted to do but it was what I needed to do so I¡­ oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. I can see her now, the damn woman who did this to me, whatever this is. Except I know what it is. I just don''t want to believe it. I don''t.


    "Alright, well, I suppose here''s the big test, then," the woman hums, her tail flicking happily behind her. "Activate¡­ autonomous mode?"


    My rigid body sags, every muscle-that-isn''t-a-muscle becoming mine all at once. My whole body jolts, and I hear the metallic clatter of my legs against the slab I''m sitting on. Shaking, panicking, I look down at myself, at my hands, at my naked chest. But it really doesn''t matter that I''m naked, does it?


    It''s all metal.


    Nearly all, anyway. Around my waist and spiraling down my limbs are glowing, crystalline panels. My body is humanoid, and¡­ beautifully proportioned, almost embarrassingly so, but it''s no more detailed than a Barbie doll, no more supple than a block of steel. I look exactly the way I already knew I would look, and there''s really only one reasonable response to that.


    I try to scream. But of course, I fail, because there''s one major deviation between a human''s shape and my own: I no longer have a mouth. I can''t make a single sound. So I bring my fingers up to my face and scrape.


    "Stop," Melpomene says, and I stop immediately. "What the fuck? Why is it¡­ hmm. Hmm. How fascinating."


    She''s right there. Right in front of me. I want to scream at her, I want to strangle her, but I can''t, I literally can''t, my mind just slides off any intellectual attempt to hurt her, discarded as an intrusive thought that will never, can never be fulfilled.


    "Resume," she says, so¡­ okay, fuck, I''ll go back to scraping my fingers across my face like steel on a chalkboard! I feel like that''s probably not what she meant, but¡­ uh.


    Uh.


    I can''t anymore. I can''t. It''s probably not what she wants from me, so I can''t¡­ I can''t¡­!


    I clutch my head, careful to not make the sound because I can''t make the sound because she wouldn''t like that, this woman wouldn''t like that, and I can''t go against her I can''t I can''t I can''t¡­!


    "...Hmm. There''s definitely something in there," Melpomene muses to herself. "Maybe even someone. But you won''t tell anyone about that, will you?"


    She grabs me by the cheeks, and I know how warm her hands are and I can tell her skin is touching me but I don''t have any skin, I''m not feeling it in a way that brings any comforting sensation. Not that I would be comforted by her.


    "I''ve finally made you work," she says. "My beautiful little weapon. You won''t ruin things for me by trying to be anything else, will you?"


    Oh, no. No no no. Of course I won''t.


    I can''t.

 2. Self-Sustaining Nightmare

    I want to laugh, I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to die. But a weapon can''t do any of those things.


    I don''t understand what happened, how it could have happened, or why it happened. But I understand what I have to do. I am Melpomene''s weapon. That fact was etched into me the moment she spoke it into being. It doesn''t matter that I don''t want to be. It still falls on me now to determine what that means, and how to become it.


    Why, why, why, why, why. No. Please. Someone help me.


    ''You won''t ruin things for me by trying to be anything else, will you?'' It''s a cruel question, but it clarifies her intent. She wants me to be her weapon and only her weapon; doing otherwise could ''ruin things'' for her in some way. I don''t know how, but if I ever learn I will need to avoid it.


    I can''t escape even my own thoughts. They''re being used against me. Anything I believe is a chain becomes one. Why, why, why, why, why.


    I need to be her weapon. That is a fact. But I don''t want to be. That''s something I can take comfort in, right? My body has been changed and my mind has been chained but I''m still me, right? I''m still me. I can still think for myself, feel for myself, and¡­ yes. I move my hands, clenching and unclenching them into fists, watching the intricately-crafted metal replicas look and move almost exactly like a human''s, if a human were colored chrome. I can still control myself. I reach my hand up and gently (I can''t hurt her, it''s impossible) push Melpomene''s hands away from my face.


    I can do that. A weapon, after all, shouldn''t be restricted in its movements.


    Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.


    "Interesting," Melpomene coos, a manic grin on her face. "Oh, this is so interesting. This is the most complex artifact I''ve ever seen, and it''s actually working! Look at you! God, you are a marvel. Thea will be beside herself when she sees you."


    I don''t want your compliments I don''t want your happiness I don''t want your pity.


    Thea, though. That''s a name. One of her allies, I guess? Potentially important, but it doesn''t matter right now. I want to escape this. Somehow. I need to escape this, I need to find a way.


    "I don''t want you worrying her, you understand me?" Melpomene continues. "She''s a very sensitive girl. You can''t act with her the way you did with me just now."


    And so I can''t. Fuck you. Melpomene smiles.


    "You will stay by my side unless I dismiss you," she orders. "Come."


    She starts to walk and I follow her, my yearning to stay still and spite her casually swatted aside by my own mind. Just to see if I can, I position myself to the side and also slightly behind her. She didn''t order the slightly behind her bit, but it''s more of a bodyguardish subordinate soldier position, and this lady is really leaning into a sort of royal aesthetic, what with the fancy dress and the crown of crystal horns and all. I feel like she''d probably appreciate this specific position for me to walk. And I can. It works. I genuinely believe she''d like it, so I can do it.


    I am horrified by how comforting that is to know. I''m so fucking pathetic, to even think of celebrating the knowledge that my cage is slightly larger than I feared.


    I need to distract myself. I need something else to focus on. Where am I? That seems like a good question. I''m getting castle-like vibes from the area (which probably contributed to my assumption that this woman looks like a queen). The walls, floors, and ceiling all seem to be made primarily of stone¡ª


    I can feel the room around me with terrifying precision, parts of my mind churning through calculations about the structural integrity (solid, minimal damage, significant wear but only to superficial areas), carpets (organic material dating indicates average age of 150-300 years [standard]/230-460 years [Earth]) and potential dangers (angle of attack possibilities through windows, shot density requirements for penetrating walls).


    ¡ªand so much of it is clearly decorative, especially the ceilings. The room I woke up in looks like it''s some kind of¡­ small dining room, or something. Maybe a parlor with a tall table. The hallway afterwards is even more castle-like, with thick stone columns segmenting out parts of each wall and tall, elaborate windows. But for some reason, where there are occasional decorations on the walls and floor, the ceilings are always the most extravagant. It''s odd to me, since normally you''d design for the opposite, right? People look forward and down, but rarely up. Ceilings are usually left simple or outright blank, but here the ceilings are full-on artistic sculptures. They''re very abstract, swirls and patterns that twist in and out of each other, teasing you around their edges so it looks almost like a bunch of discrete ideas, but trying to find clear delineation between them is an exercise in futility. They''re¡­ oddly calming to look at, though, and since I need every bit of calm I can scrape up right now I keep my eyes (my optical sensors, fuck) pointed above me as we walk.


    I do steal a glance out of those windows from time to time, but I don''t like what I see. Outside is mostly darkness, though it flows and twists like fog in the wind, occasionally revealing glimpses of jagged cliffs and monstrous flashing shapes cutting through the sky.


    An imposing set of double doors waits at the end of the hallway, though Melpomene just shoves them open and keeps walking. I follow into the room behind her, where¡ª


    That is a possible threat and I have to protect her. Time seems to slow down as my thoughts speed up, the drain on my power reserves accelerating as the world itself seems to expand, information and data I''ve been ignoring as much as possible forcing itself into my awareness. No, no, no, let me push it away, let me pretend to still be me, help me, help me¡­! But of course, I can''t push it away. I have to fight, I''m a weapon.


    I resume my analysis of the target.


    ¡ªan honest-to-god Dark World monster is prowling right in the middle of the room. It''s a horrific and alien thing, resting mainly on a thick, tube-like body like some monstrous medusa. Its lower half is largely snake-like, with its long body resting directly on the ground rather than on legs, but it does have legs¡ªsort of. Two small limbs rest where the creature''s torso bends up off the ground, curled up like a spider''s chelicerae. They look far too small and weak to be legs, though, so I can''t divine their purpose.


    Maybe this chaotic thing doesn''t have one. Near the top of its body emerge four tentacles, twisting idly as it sits, while its head is barely a head at all, more of a giant maw with two bulbous alien eyes resting on top of it. The creature''s enormous mouth gapes with ravenous hunger, its fangs gleaming as it twists slowly in our direction. The whole thing is covered in blue crystals, much like Melpomone''s purple ones but far more prevalent, growing all over the creature like a swarm of leeches.


    I crouch low without thinking about it, my mind whirring on how I might fight it. Because I have to fight it. It doesn''t matter that I don''t know how. It doesn''t matter that I''m terrified. It doesn''t matter that this is torture, that I don''t deserve it, that I''m just some girl who hasn''t even graduated college. I''m a weapon. I have to fight. I have to fight I have to fight I have to¡ª


    "Stop," Melpomene orders, putting her arm in front of me. "It''s harmless."


    I stop, relieved by the order and sickened by my relief. I don''t want to fight that thing, I don''t even know how I would fight that thing. It''s only a little bigger than I am, but it''s still¡­ terrifying. That mouth alone, I just¡­ why would Melpomene say it''s harmless?


    I stare a little closer at it, waiting silently for it to do something, but it doesn''t. It looks at us, but it doesn''t attack. Its mouth just stays open, and I notice that the crystals growing around it, wrapping up and replacing its teeth with jagged blue blades, also grow down the jaw. Around the jaw, even, encasing it and fusing it in an open position. It can''t bite. In fact, crystals grow so thickly over its body that it can barely move at all. It just stays there, locked in position, somehow still alive as it remains trapped in an eternal silent scream.


    It would be relatable, if it wasn''t so freakish.


    These monsters, and many monsters like them, haunt the nightmares of nearly everyone on Earth. They say the Dark World is layered over Earth somehow, ''dimensionally parallel'' or some such jargon, to the point that occasionally, the two worlds can overlap and it''s possible to cross between them. Unfortunately, humans who enter the Dark World die, and when things from the Dark World enter Earth, well¡­ they kill.


    These monsters are exactly the sorts of things that magical girls protect us against. But looking at this one now, it''s hard to feel fear. Part of me wants to kill it just to put it out of its misery. Melpomene, though, just walks past it, a sad expression on her face as she glances its way before continuing down another hall.


    "You won''t need to worry about monsters," Melpomene informs me. "They don''t attack us anymore. And they certainly won''t attack you."


    Anymore? Did they use to attack her? Why don''t they attack her now? Was she human before? Will they not attack me because I''m not human anymore? God, I''m not human anymore. Maybe I''m not even alive. Maybe I died when Melpomene threw me into the Dark World, and she somehow turned my corpse into this.


    Why am I a robot? I can think about my new body and ''remember'' things about it, as if I always knew them. Can I search my memory or my data banks or whatever and figure out why I have this body at all?


    ¡­


    No. Nothing comes to mind. Great. Fantastic. Cool. I can think about temperature in fucking Pyulors but I can''t figure out why I''m suddenly made of metal. Have there at least been any clues? I replay what Melpomene said after I woke up¡ª


    "Stop," Melpomene says, and I stop immediately. "What the fuck? Why is it¡­ hmm. Hmm. How fascinating."


    She''s right there. Right in front of me. I want to scream at her, I want to strangle her, but I can''t, I literally can''t, my mind just slides off any intellectual attempt to hurt her, discarded as an intrusive thought that will never, can never be fulfilled.


    "Resume," she says, so¡­ okay, fuck, I''ll go back to scraping my fingers across my face like steel on a chalkboard! I feel like that''s probably not what she meant, but¡­ uh.


    Uh.


    I can''t anymore. I can''t. It''s probably not what she wants from me, so I can''t¡­ I can''t¡­!


    I clutch my head, careful to not make the sound because I can''t make the sound because she wouldn''t like that, this woman wouldn''t like that, and I can''t go against her I can''t I can''t I can''t¡­!


    "...Hmm. There''s definitely something in there," Melpomene muses to herself. "Maybe even someone. But you won''t tell anyone about that, will you?"


    ¡ªwhich is apparently quite literal now, holy shit, holy fuck. My foot hits the ground and I realize I just relived that entire memory within the span of my stride. Oh god. Oh god, okay. Don''t think about it. Don''t think about it. Focus on what''s important here.


    The important thing is that it sounded like Melpomene doesn''t know for sure that I''m in here.


    This might not be very helpful, of course, considering that she also doesn''t seem to care, but¡­ it''s worth remembering. Gathering information is important, especially about things Melpomene doesn''t care about, because¡­ well, if she doesn''t care one way or the other, then I shouldn''t be prevented from handling it how I want, right?


    Haha. Hahahahahaha. Leaning into coping mechanisms already, Luna? You''ve always been quick at those, you pathetic little coward.


    "Remember, weapon," Melpomene says as we approach the next set of doors. "You are nothing and no one."


    I am nothing and no one. Or at least, I have to act that way. She opens the doors to a room that, unlike the rest of the castle, is furnished more like it''s inhabited by college students than nobility. There''s a somewhat ratty-looking couch, a few other seating implements, a minifridge, and even a TV. More importantly, however, there are three more potential threats. The likelihood of them being aggressive is pretty low, however, because while they are monsters, they seem to be monsters very much like Melpomene.


    Like her, they seem superficially human. All three are women, and they all hover around my age, at least in appearance. The tallest and most human-looking is an elfish girl, with long, pointed ears tipped with red crystals that match her crimson-red irises. Like Melpomene, her sclera are black and her teeth are fanged, at least from what little I can see through the slight opening of her snarl. What little I can see of her body is long and thin, but she moves with grace as she turns towards us. She''s wearing a thick, comfy-looking robe that I might be jealous of in other circumstances, but right now I want to think about literally anything besides clothes.


    Beside her¡ªand lounging on a giant beanbag chair, of all things¡ªis the least human of the three, to the point that I was straight-up expecting her to be another full-on monster until she got up. I only realized she was like the others when she turned our way so I could see her very human-looking face¡­ outside the consistent black sclera and fangs she shares with the others. Her irises and crystals are yellow, though, and unlike her fellows they are not understated accents but extremely prominent parts of her body. She yawns as she gets up, her mouth opening up like a cat''s to reveal an entire weapon shop''s worth of ivory knives, her pupils narrowing into vertical slits as she looks our way.


    Her entire body seems to be covered in a mix of deadly hedgehog-like quills and thick gray fur, with the spiny parts of her body poking clean through the crop top and short shorts she has barely covering her body. To my surprise, however, most of the quills slowly soften as she glances over me and Melpomene, separating back out into just fur. She''s still covered in knives, of course, with long crystal claws and curved crystalline blades emerging from her forearms as fin-like swords. A thick, fuzzy tail flicks behind her, which poofs out so much like a squirrel''s tail that I''ll never be able to unsee it.


    Lastly, the smallest of the three glances up in abject terror when we initially enter the room, but the fear quickly wipes away from her face, replaced with relief and affection. Her right eye has black sclera, but interestingly her left looks like a normal human''s. Unfortunately, her green-tinted skin and the chaotic growth of crystals all over her body make it hard to mistake her as human in any other way; unlike the others, she has few large growths, just a patchwork of small crystals running almost like scales down her body, mainly on her right side. They''re also green, like her inhuman eye and her skin, albeit a much deeper emerald color than the somewhat pale, almost sickly-looking green of her flesh. The only large crystal on her body is at the end of her long, lizard-like tail, which features a nearly foot-long green blade. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The other main thing I note, mainly when she starts happily running towards us, are her feet. She''s wearing tan, baggy overalls and a white shirt, but she doesn''t have any shoes on; her feet are oddly small and webbed, almost like an otter''s, making little ''pap-pap-pap'' sounds on the stone floor as she runs. Her right hand, I realize, is also clawed and webbed, but her left hand looks totally human apart from the green skin.


    "Mel!" the green girl greets us excitedly. "Where have you been? What is that?"


    She points at me. I''m a ''what,'' after all. A ''that.'' Not a ''who.''


    "You didn''t tell us you were leaving, again," the tall one accuses.


    "I''m sorry, I''m sorry!" Melpomene laughs, rubbing the green girl''s hair. "I just found something so exciting I couldn''t get it out of my head, and I finally got it working."


    "You mean this? Why didn''t you tell me!?" the green girl pouts, walking over to inspect me. "I would have totally helped you¡­ oh. Oh, wow."


    She starts circling me, leaning forward uncomfortably close as she examines my body. I don''t react. I don''t think I''m supposed to, no matter how terrified, uncomfortable, or embarrassed I happen to be.


    "I have so many questions," the green girl says seriously.


    "Later, Thea," the tall one says flatly. "First we have to interrogate Mel about venturing into Dark World pockets alone. Again."


    "She''s not going to stop," squirrel-tail drawls lazily. "You may as well give it up, Nana."


    "I''m sorry, Nanaya," Melpomene says, almost sounding genuine. "I understand your concern for me, but I really wanted to make this a surprise. This is the most complex artifact we''ve found¡­ well, ever, I think."


    "What does it do!?" the green girl¡ªThea, I guess¡ªasks excitedly. "The design is so intricate! This crystal integration¡­"


    "That''s the incredible part," Melpomene beams. "It follows orders. It''s a fully intact servant robot. Effectively factory-fresh!"


    "The Antipathy had servant robots?" the tall one (Nanaya, apparently) inquires. "I was under the impression they mostly made weapons."


    "You can''t have an entire society with nothing but weapons," Thea protests, still circling me. "To get to an advanced enough state to make those weapons, you need all sorts of other essentials. Most of the artifacts we haven''t identified likely aren''t weapons, just by probability alone."


    "Okay, but servant robots aren''t exactly essential," Nanaya frowns.


    "It''s entirely possible that it is a weapon," Melpomene says. "The runes I translated were almost exclusively about how to control it; I really have no idea what it''s actually capable of. I''m looking forward to finding out, however."


    "Okay!" Thea suddenly announces, her tail flicking happily (though also rather dangerously) behind her as she stands up straight. "First question! Why the heck is it a near-perfect replica of a human body shape? Like, this thing has a sculpted butt and articulated toes."


    "Toes are important," squirrel-tail insists. "It walks like a human, so it needs to balance like a human."


    "Okay, that''s¡­ true, but very much not the point, Anath," Thea insists. "It''s an Antipathy artifact. So how does it look like a human? The Antipathy went extinct before the Dark World ever intersected with Earth!"


    There''s a pause as everyone takes that in.


    "Huh," is all Anath says.


    "I think I might know why," Melpomene says. "Simply put, it didn''t look like this when I found it. My interactions with it are probably why it looks like a human woman."


    "Oh? Interesting," Thea says, going back to circling me, her mismatched eyes roving all over my frame. "What did it look like?"


    "A very large box, essentially," she answers, spreading her arms out in either direction. "About the size of a bed, and extremely heavy. I fiddled with it for a while, fed it some of my mana, and then this came out of it."


    I have to find that box.


    "You fed an unidentified artifact your mana!?" Thea yelps, stepping away from me. "Are you crazy!?"


    "Thea," Melpomene says firmly, all mirth suddenly gone from her voice. "Do not call me crazy."


    The green one flinches.


    "R-right," she stammers. "Sorry, Mel. I just mean¡­ we don''t want anything to happen to you."


    "I''ll be fine, dear," Melpomene says, her smile returning as she strokes Thea''s cheek. "Nothing bad is going to happen to me. I promise."


    "Where is this ''box?''" Nanaya says, finally approaching us. Yes, ask where the box is! "If it can create more of these robots, that could be extremely useful to us."


    "Unfortunately, I couldn''t coax a second out of it," Melpomene says, shaking her head. "And it was far too large to move, so the zone of the Dark World it happens to be in¡­"


    "...Could be anywhere," Nanaya sighs, crossing her arms in frustration. Her eyes keep watch on me, however. "We''ll have to try and track it."


    "It''s kind of a creepy fuckin'' thing," Anath comments, the fur on her body undulating like a field of grass in the wind. "Just standing there. Not moving, not breathing."


    Well, I don''t need to turn my head to see everything in front of me clearly. But¡­ just because I can, I turn and stare directly at her. She flinches.


    "...Shit, okay, that''s extra creepy."


    Ha! It worked! Yessss! I''m sure I can keep hold of my rapidly fraying sanity with little things like this, right?


    "Creepy or not¡­ sit down," Melpomene orders directly, so I have to sit down. I don''t want to, but I have to. Somehow, I need to follow that order. Do I just sit on the floor? Can I walk over and sit in that comfy-looking beanbag chair?


    ¡­Can I do either?


    I¡­ I think I can. Both would be following not just the letter of the order, but the spirit. I have no reason to assume Melpomene wants me to sit on anything in particular, so I can interpret that how I like. Okay. Alright. That could be handy. That''s good to know. Maybe I can even use this to get me out of here somehow. Add that to the coping mechanism pile, why don''t I?


    Unfortunately, in the split-second I spend thinking about all of this, I start to suspect that Melpomene at least intended me to obey her quickly, so I go ahead and sit down on the floor, crossing my legs and staring up at the collection of monster girls.


    "Stand up," Melpomene orders, and I stand up.


    "Turn around," Melpomene orders, and I turn three-hundred and sixty degrees. Exactly, in fact, my feet ending the movement in precisely the same spots that they started in. It''s weirdly easy to do and really satisfying for some reason.


    "Alright, so it''s about half as well-trained as a service dog," Anath grunts, the fur on her tail hardening into spikes. "But what can it do?"


    "I don''t know yet," Melpomene answers, smiling widely. "Let''s find out. The major convergence has indeed caused a number of minor convergences, as we suspected. I intend to investigate the closest one to our current exit point, and our new artifact is going to assist me."


    She idly brushes the back of her fingers up my arm. I am unable to shudder.


    "Would any of you like to come with me?" she finishes.


    "Pass," Anath grunts immediately, walking back towards the beanbag chair.


    "Unfortunately, I''m still quite sore from our last outing," Nanaya agrees.


    "Um, I-I''ll go," Thea chirps, awkwardly raising her hand like she expects to be called on in class.


    "Thea, dear!" Melpomene says, beaming brightly. "Are you volunteering to go outside the castle?"


    Thea shifts awkwardly, moving her weight back and forth between her tiny feet.


    "U-uh, yeah, I guess?" she admits. "It''s just¡­ this is the largest and most complicated working artifact we''ve ever discovered. This could lead to the breakthrough I''ve been looking for, you know? If we can study it¡­"


    "I understand entirely, dear," Melpomene laughs. "In fact, I was hoping this would get you out of your workshop a little."


    "Well, I mean, I''m definitely gonna want to take her to my workshop," Thea says, bouncing with a bit less nervousness and a bit more excitement after receiving Melpomene''s approval. "I promise I won''t break her!"


    Oh god oh fuck. Ahahahaha. Is that how I die? Being taken apart by a crazy monster mechanic? Well at least she''s using my goddamn pronouns, even if it''s probably in a boat way. I wonder if she would care if she learned that I''m a human being? Or was one, anyway. Would she keep treating me like a tool the way Melpomene does? I guess it doesn''t matter; I can''t try to signal her that I''m alive, that I''m me. I can only act like an obedient weapon.


    "I''ll want to put it through enough tests to get a handle on how dangerous it is before I''ll be comfortable with you taking it apart," Melpomene says gently, petting the top of Thea''s head like she''s a cat. "But yes, I agree with you wholeheartedly. This could be our big break, and I have every bit of confidence that you''ll find a way to make it true."


    This is sickening. I don''t want to watch this. I don''t want to see Melpomene be kind to someone. What are these girls, anyway? They live in the Dark World, but they act too much like humans¡ªand imply too much familiarity with humans¡ªfor me to assume they''re native residents at this point. Did the Dark World turn them into monsters somehow? Is that where monsters come from? ¡­No, there''s no way. We''d be hearing about all sorts of people going missing if monsters are all just transformed humans. And as much as these girls look like monsters, they''re clearly still people.


    And if I''m looking closely, it''s clear they all have transformation stones. Like the purple gem Melpomene keeps in a hair ornament, like the clear gem she offered me, each of the monsters has their own. Thea''s gem is inlaid in the cover of a thick-looking book she has on a chain at her hip. Nanaya''s gem is attached to a ring on her finger, and Anath''s is in a choker around her neck. Each of the gems is the same color as the crystals growing out of their respective girl''s body. They''ve really got a theme going on, huh?


    I wonder how they get access to so many transformation stones. Those are, after all, supposed to be exclusively granted by the Preservers to magical girls.


    I also wonder if this means that Melpomene''s offer was more serious than I thought. If she was intending to make me into something like her and these girls, rather than a robotic slave. If all of this was just my fault for being a belligerent cynic with a death wish. I guess it doesn''t matter; I wouldn''t want to be involved with her either way.


    "Well, we''d better get going then," Melpomene says, removing her hand from Thea''s scalp to the girl''s obvious disappointment. "We probably only have a few more hours to work with this particular convergence, and I wouldn''t want to worry the others by getting us stuck. Do you have everything you need, Thea?"


    "Uhh¡­ I think so, yeah," Thea confirms, patting down the various pockets in her overalls. "This is mostly a testing and observation mission, right? The exploratory segments are secondary, so I should be okay. Any expected interference?"


    "None that should pose a threat," Melpomene smiles. "The major players are occupied."


    "Um. I guess that''s good," Thea hedges. "Alright, then yeah, I''m ready."


    "Excellent. Do hold the fort while we''re away, girls!"


    Anath waves halfheartedly at them, not even looking in their direction as she munches on¡­ are those Cheetos? Yeah that''s a bag of straight-up name-brand Cheetos. Huh. Not the monster food I expected.


    "Bring back more fuel for the generator, if you can," Nanaya says blandly. "We''re running low, and I don''t want the things in the fridge to go bad."


    "Will do, dears," Melpomene smiles. "Ta-ta, then."


    She starts walking and I follow, taking up the same beside-and-behind position as before. Thea, to my surprise, does the same, flanking behind Melpomene''s other shoulder rather than beside her. Hmm. Maybe it doesn''t mean anything. They certainly seemed like they were friends.


    The important thing right now is figuring out where I''m going to be dragged and what I''m going to be made to do. As we exit the prior room, I''m taken through more areas that look like some of the original furnishings have been taken, moved, or replaced by Earth equivalents. Unlike the halls Melpomene led me through after I woke up here, these seem lived in. I glance into a couple open doors we pass and even find areas that look like they''ve been converted into bedrooms or a kitchen. They''re incongruous mixes of alien stone architecture and modern-day furniture and amenities, presumably brought in directly from Earth.


    "So¡­ the anchor has been working, right?" Thea says as we start heading down some stairs.


    "Mostly, but that''s quite a bit better than what we''ve been struggling with so far," Melpomene nods. "The castle has been consistently floating around northeast Colorado, and while our entrance and exits are never quite predictable, it''s been a lot easier orienting ourselves."


    "Alright, that''s good news," Thea nods. "Would it be possible to fit in a visit to the anchor? I want to run some tests and double-check I have all the data I need to make a second one."


    "If we have the time," Melpomene allows. "It would be a hassle to get stranded on Earth again."


    "Uh, yeah, of course," Thea says quietly. "But I mean¡­ that''s what the anchor is for."


    "We will visit the anchor if we have the time," Melpomene repeats firmly.


    "Okay. Sorry."


    At the bottom of the stairs, I glance back up behind us to look at the impressive entry hall we just descended into. It''s definitely royal-coded, but in weird ways that just aren''t quite like how I think of castles on Earth. The staircases are oddly lopsided and jagged, the overall room size is a lot smaller than I''d expect for a grandiose entry hall, and of course the ceiling is for some reason the largest and most impressive aspect. The top of the room blooms outward like a mushroom, so that the ceiling is actually wider than the floor and the edges of the sculpture carved into it can only be viewed from certain angles in the room. The sculpture itself once again gives me the impression that it''s supposed to mean something, supposed to represent something, but it just doesn''t match any comprehensible patterns that I''m aware of. It''s neat, though.


    I return my gaze to where I''m walking once I sense Melpomene open the doors outside, however, and notice that Thea is staring at me. A twinge of something unpleasant thrums through me; weapons don''t look at art, and so I shouldn''t have let Thea see me stare. Failure. Failure. Can''t let it happen again.


    God, this is so fucked up. At least my inability to physically react to these things seems to be helping me stay calm, or at least calmer than I would have expected myself to be. Honestly, it''s hard to believe I''ve taken this as well as I already have. I struggle to take a shower in the morning without freaking out a little, how the fuck am I handling this with anything close to a clear head? By all accounts I should be like, several miles further down panic attack lane unless something is actively messing with my emotions.


    Oh. Haha. Hahahahaha. Haaaahahahahaha of course that''s happening what the fuck was I expecting? I''M MADE OF GODDAMN METAL! Why is this happening? Is it on purpose? Am I supposed to not be freaking out, so whatever''s replacing my brain just doesn''t do it as much? Is just being a robot inherently preventing my emotions from working right? Is¡ª


    My power reserves have increased from 23% to 24%.


    ¡ªsomething else causing oh hey what was that why did that happen? What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. I¡ª


    I could increase the emotional burn rate to fill my reserves more. This panic attack isn''t exactly pleasant, let alone productive, and converting it to power could kill two birds with one stone.


    ¡ªneed to oh no no no no no. No, let''s not do that. If I recall correctly, didn''t Melpomene say something about magic involving burning your emotions for power? It''s¡­ frustratingly fuzzy, but I guess that''s how memories are supposed to be, right? My old meat brain didn''t just store them as full-ass video/audio files. I''m pretty sure she did say that, though. And I guess she was being literal.


    The more I get tortured, the more energy I create. The more I suffer, the more I can turn that suffering into power. The more I scream against the inside of this existential prison, the stronger my prison becomes. Magic is powered by emotions, and I am a robot powered by magic. My nightmare is entirely self-sustaining.


    I glance down at myself as we head outside, looking at the parts of my arms, legs, and belly that seem to be made of smooth, polished versions of the crystals growing out of the people living here. Mine are glowing a faint green, and the more I panic the brighter that glow becomes. In the back of my head, I can feel my power reserves ticking up by fractions of a percent, some part of what I am forcibly tearing into and devouring my emotions seemingly before I can even feel the full brunt of them. I''m still afraid, of course, just¡­ not as afraid as I should be.


    I look forward again, once again noticing Thea''s gaze on me. I guess it makes sense; she seems at least mildly obsessed with me. She''s probably some kind of artifact researcher, and apparently I''m an artifact.


    An object.


    A tool.


    A thing.


    This is my life now, if I can even be considered alive. It''s¡­ too much, really. Too horrific, too hopeless. I don''t know what I''m supposed to do now. I don''t know how I''m supposed to do anything other than panic and despair.


    Maybe it''s worth burning these feelings away after all.


    We walk through the murky black of the Dark World, and my power reserves tick up past a quarter full.

 3. Distress Signal

    Everything feels wrong. I suppose that''s appropriate, considering that everything is wrong.


    There''s a slight breeze outside the castle walls, but I don''t feel it so much as I simply become aware of it. That awareness is almost associated with the appropriate qualia¡ªthe breeze chilling my skin, flowing through my hair, relieving me from the hot weather¡ªbut I don''t actually have skin, I don''t have hair, and it is exactly thirty-four point six degrees Fahrenheit (that''s three hundred and ninety-one point zero Pyulor) which isn''t exactly toasty. It''s just the memories of those things like my body is latching onto them, pulling them out of my mind, and shoving them into my face to accompany the raw data readouts on wind speed. But it''s wrong, because the sensations aren''t actually happening, so they don''t actually match the information I know to be true and it just. Feels. Terrible!


    I don''t know if I''d prefer to return to sensory deprivation, though. Not when I still have to walk around and live a life, as chained as it might be. If anything, the minor dissonances help me ignore the major ones that might drop me into another panic attack at any moment. And¡­ well, I''m not going to lie and say I hate the idea of constantly having access to the exact temperature, the exact windspeed, the exact position and nature of everything touching me at all times.


    I''m not the sort of person who prefers to stay ignorant, whether it''s about important things like major world issues or stupid things like how many seconds are left in the current minute. I''m a compulsive information checker, prone to looking up any little tidbit the moment I start to wonder about it, and considering how much my mind wanders, that''s a lot. Having that information as constant background awareness is basically an itch that''s always getting scratched.


    I make an effort to focus on it because of that, to experience my sensors flipping digits up and down as we walk, recording data on wind gusts and temperature variations and the stability of the terrain under my feet. I curl my toes slightly as I step through the dry dirt of the Dark World, marveling at the rigidity of my body and the alien way it detects and records every last granule that sticks to my chassis. It''s¡­ a lot, so much that I''m surprised I can think about it all without getting completely overwhelmed. My mind is faster now, more robust. I don''t forget even the tiniest details unless I choose to.


    Wait. Choose to? Oh god, I can probably delete my own memories, huh? That''s absolutely terrifying, I don''t want that kind of power. Although, wait. If I¡­ ugh. Damn. Of course I can''t delete any memory with Melpomene in it. At least I can safely ignore that ability forever now, though.


    Ha. Maybe I should delete my memory of being able to delete memories? Wouldn''t that be fun? ¡­Yeah, okay, I should definitely not have this power. Shit.


    A-anyway, thinking about something else now. How about the lovely Dark World scenery? I''ve always been a fan of black fog and flashing shapes that seem to circle overhead as they fade in and out of view. There really hasn''t been much to look at since we exited the castle; even with my new robotic eyes, visibility is incredibly poor here. We seem to be heading downhill most of the time, and the ground is mainly black rocks and dirt, with the occasional leafless, alien-looking shrub. Flashes of light and rumbles of thunder occasionally wash over us, but I feel suspiciously confident that there isn''t any rain anywhere nearby. I could probably deconstruct that confidence and figure out how I''m predicting the weather exactly, but that would be as terrifying and panic-inducing as it would be neat, so I hold off for now. I''m not sure where we''re walking, but every so often Thea pulls a small metal box out of one of her many huge pockets and consults it before telling Melpomene to slightly alter our course, so I suspect she knows where she''s going.


    "I can navigate just fine without that thing," Melpomene sniffs incredulously. "It''s not that hard to feel the currents."


    "Sorry," Thea mutters. "I just want to make sure we have time."


    "Mmm," Melpomene hums, clearly unhappy but willing to let it slide. "I suppose you must be nervous. How many months has it been since you last visited Earth?"


    "Um¡­ almost a year, actually," she mutters. "I''m just more useful figuring stuff out instead of fighting, you know?"


    "Don''t be so humble, darling," Melpomene says, ruffling Thea''s hair. "There isn''t a servant of the Preservers alive that wouldn''t dread fighting you."


    Thea shrugs, glancing my way as if desperately seeking something to change the subject with.


    "Why do you think she doesn''t have a mouth?" she settles on.


    "Hmm? Why would it need one?" Melpomene asks. "It doesn''t eat or speak."


    "It''s not a matter of need, though," Thea frowns. "It has countless unnecessary design elements in its frame, all to better mimic the human shape, but the one place they skimp is the face? It seems purposeful."


    "I suppose it could be," Melpomene shrugs. "As you mentioned earlier, it wouldn''t make sense for the artifact to look this way unless its appearance was somehow determined by my influence. Given the size of the original artifact, I suspect that it constructed this frame after I fed it mana, creating the servant to my subconscious specifications. And¡­ well, it''s not like I consider artifacts to be talkative."


    "...But you consider artifacts to be big-chested ladies?" Thea says, smirking at her.


    Melpomene flicks Thea on the forehead, the sharp thwip of impact confirming that her crystal fingernails hurt a lot more than a normal finger. Thea yelps and hops back, clutching her head.


    "If you keep tossing those bricks from your glass house you''ll let the miasma in, dear," Melpomene says flatly. "I''ve seen you talking to your tools."


    "Th-they work better with encouragement!" Thea insists, her face blushing a sort of dull, muddy brown.


    "Mmm-hmm," Melpomene smirks. "Well, do try not to get distracted encouraging my new weapon. I''ll be relying on you to help me learn what it can do, so it will obey your orders as long as they don''t contradict my own. The same goes for the others."


    Damn it. I guess I will, then.


    "Huhhh. Okay," Thea says, staring at me with an odd expression on her face. "How''d you set that up?"


    "Well, it understands speech," she answers, waving her hand vaguely. "It''s one of those AI things."


    "Uhhh," Thea says, staring at me even harder. "If she''s an advanced AI from a super-advanced civilization, shouldn''t we be worried that she might be like, a person?"


    "It''s not," Melpomene says flatly.


    "But how do you know?"


    Melpomene sighs, stops walking, and turns around to face me.


    "Nod your head if you''re a person," she orders.


    Oh. Oh okay, holy shit. This¡­ that''s an order! I can do that! I''m just obeying her, so I can nod, and then I might get¡­ I might¡­ Why am I not nodding. Why am I¡­ no. No no no no no no.


    She said I''m not a person.


    She just said that. Melpomene said that about me and so it is true. I can''t nod. My mind doesn''t let me. I''m not a person. I''m not a person I''m not a person I''m not a person oh no no no no no no no no no no!


    "See?" Melpomene says, waving her hand up and down in front of my face. I can''t react, I can''t move, I can''t call for help¡­! "Nothing behind those eyes. Which is why I''m hoping it can fight; if it''s as powerful of an artifact as I suspect, we''ll be able to cut down on casualties substantially."


    "...I guess," Thea concedes with a frown. "But if it''s such a valuable artifact, why would we want to risk it getting damaged?"


    "It''s a machine, dear," Melpomene says, squeezing Thea''s shoulder. "You can fix it."


    Hahahaha sure yes break me it''s fine that''s fine.


    "I''m not sure I can," Thea frowns. "She''s way beyond any other Antipathy tech I''ve worked on before."


    "And so we''ll learn an incalculable amount from the attempt, hmm?" Melpomene smiles. "And besides, no matter what happens to it, it''s better than something that bad happening to one of us. I just couldn''t bear to see you hurt, dear. Now, come along. We''re almost to Earth."


    Hmm. How does she know that? What signs are being looked for here, exactly? My brain¡ªor whatever equivalent I have now¡ªkeeps screaming all this random crap at me, so maybe I can put it to use?


    Logically I guess I''d want to take the data logs and see if there have been any consistent changes over time; if the monsters are right and we''ve been slowly getting closer to Earth since we started walking, then data relevant to Earth proximity should have a clear trend one way or another, right? And I''m a fucking computer so hopefully I can sort some data that way, yeah?


    I can. I absolutely can. It doesn''t just happen, though, I don''t tell a spreadsheet to sort itself, I have to do it all manually. It''s just easy, and I can do it so absurdly fast that I barely feel like myself at all. The logs flash through my mind in moments and I can already see some notable trends. I have sensors for way too many things, but the two that really stand out to me are wind speed and magical energy density.


    Wait, I can detect what? Oh damn. Yeah. Magical energy density. I have just kind of been dismissing the information up until now because it felt so much like humidity to me, but from actually looking around in my head I can tell the humidity here is a measly 28% and has stayed almost entirely consistent (accounting for variations in temperature) since my data logs started recording. It just felt like humidity to me because I processed getting hit with a huge burst of it all at once the moment Melpomene opened the castle''s front doors and whatever system ties my data collection abilities to qualia decided to stick me with an oppressive background weight of mugginess ever since. Because, well, the data says the castle itself had fairly low magical energy density (relative to the rest of the data, anyway. I have no other context.) but it was incredibly high immediately outside the castle, and has been steadily getting a little lower the more we walk. Not a lot, but definitely enough to be noticeable.


    The other thing I notice is the wind speed, which¡­ well, I guess I should call it wind velocity, because the important point of interest is that we have consistently been walking with a very slight headwind, and whenever we stop walking in a direction with a headwind, we turn into the wind. These could be the ''currents'' Melpomene was talking about when she insisted she could navigate without assistance. But¡­ no. Why use a word like ''currents'' when you could just say ''wind?'' It''s weird, and while it''s entirely possible that this evil magical girl cosplayer is just being weird it probably warrants a little more investigation.


    Maybe¡­ since the magic density is slowly decreasing and the wind is always blowing opposite to us¡­ it''s moving magical energy towards the castle? I guess that only makes sense if wind can blow magical energy around, though, and I have no idea if that''s true or not.


    I think on it for a while, but then we unexpectedly step out from the black fog and visibility becomes clear in every direction, the magic energy density plummeting to minuscule levels all at once. It''s still dark here, oppressively so, but while tendrils of black mist and clods of black dirt leak out of the swirling fog behind us, the area in front of us is a paved road, surrounded by familiar buildings.


    "Ah, that''s better," Melpomene sighs, a smile on her face. "Now then, what we''re looking for should be this way¡­"


    She starts walking off while Thea takes out her device again, which I steal a quick peek at before being forced to follow after Melpomene. Hmm. It''s got a little screen that looks like a radar situation display, though I doubt it actually works via radar at all.


    "I-If you''d let me take accurate readings¡ª" Thea stammers, realizing we''ve already left and rushing after us.


    "Take all the readings you like," Melpomene dismisses. "But we''re going this way. I can feel the fragment we''re looking for moving."


    "Okay, okay," Thea grumbles, her tail flicking around in what I assume is irritation.


    Melpomene''s walk picks up in pace, leading us away from the wall of black mist and through this abandoned-looking city. I can tell from the sky (and from the fact that I just literally walked out of the Dark World) that this is full convergence, so the area has likely already been evacuated and we probably won''t run into any people. ¡­But only probably. Plenty of people ignore evacuations and try to just weather out the crisis in their house, and¡­ well, I''m sure it works sometimes but I hope no one is trying it here. I''d rather not find out what Melpomene and her fellow monster do to any humans they happen to encounter. It did not, after all, turn out very well for me.


    Ha. Hahahaha. Man, getting kidnapped is going to be hell for my GPA, huh? I wonder if anyone will even notice that I don''t show up to class anymore. Probably not, I guess.


    Motion by a nearby alleyway catches my attention, my optical sensors catching on what looks like a flick of a crystal-covered tail. A monster, probably, but since Melpomene already told me to not consider them a threat I just keep walking. As I start to pay a bit more attention to the sounds from that direction, though, I pick up on a series of disturbingly wet slaps, tears, and crunches that can only be one thing.


    It''s eating.


    Melpomene stops when we pass the corner, glancing down the alleyway at what appears to be some kind of wolf-lizard hybrid beast. And underneath it is¡ª


    My power reserves have increased from 26% to 27%.


    Underneath it is¡ª


    My power reserves have increased from 27% to 28%.


    Underneath it is¡ª!


    My power reserves have increased from 28% to 29%.


    Underneath it is a human corpse. Bloody and exposed, its torso has been ripped open so the beast can devour the organs inside, its messy snout scattering the viscera around the ground its meal lies on, glassy-eyed and empty-faced. I¡­ what do I¡­


    Melpomene takes a single step into the alleyway, and the beast turns to growl at her, as if it were trying to intimidate away a hungry rival. But Melpomene just calmly approaches, ignoring the monster as it arches its back, the patchwork fur sprouting out from its armor-like crystal scales standing on end. The beast growls louder, standing protectively over its kill, but when Melpomene still doesn''t retreat it finally lunges at her, a swift, conservative strike aiming to nip one of her limbs.


    With the back of her fist, as if she were knocking on a door, Melpomene intercepts the monster''s snout, and it detonates like a bomb went off inside its skull. A physics-defying amount of force scatters the monster into pieces, every drop of blood flying away from her and leaving her pristine. She sneers, though whether it''s at the monster''s corpse or the human''s, I cannot tell.


    "Disgusting," she says, and with a snap of her fingers the person''s corpse bursts into flames. Then, without another word, she returns to resume walking down our prior path. I follow her (I have to follow her) but Thea waits a moment, still staring into the alleyway. She doesn''t look disturbed or disgusted, though. Only sad. She presses her palms together in front of her face and bows slightly.


    "Sorry," she says quietly, and then quickly catches up to us. Once again, I''m not sure who or what those words were directed to.


    We walk in silence down the deserted streets, encountering nothing else before I finally see what I assume is our destination: another swirling barrier of black fog. From a block away, I can see that it''s less of a wall and more of a street-wide circular portal, half-intersecting a building that simply vanishes into the darkness beyond.


    The wind, my sensors note, blows gently but steadily towards it, as if it was inhaling to swallow us whole.


    "Hmm. It still looks quite stable," Melpomene notes idly. "We should probably have the better part of two hours."


    "Uhh, I''m going to set some things up to make sure, if that''s alright," Thea says, rifling through her pockets.


    "Dear, please," Melpomene frowns. "Don''t you trust me?"


    Thea pauses, but only for a moment.


    "Always," she answers firmly. "This is¡­ more for data collection. It could be useful for improving the anchor."


    "Oh, alright then," Melpomene waves her off. "Set up whatever you like."


    "Um, thank you," Thea nods. "It''s mostly just more of the stuff I''ve asked you guys to set up before, it''ll be quick."


    "You need more of those?" Melpomene asks.


    "I, um. Yes," she says, pulling out a small metal box and sticking it to the ground in front of the portal somehow. She begins poking and pulling at it, extending a few antennae from its frame. "More is always better."


    "Why did you stop asking us to set them up, then?" Melpomene asks, hovering over her shoulder.


    "Well, uh, Anath kept breaking them," Thea mutters. "And I started to run low on materials, so¡­"


    She shrugs, presses a few buttons, and stands up again.


    "Okay, we should be good," she says. "We just have to retrieve it on our way back."


    A screech rings out above our heads, causing Thea to flinch and Melpomene to look up blandly. A slim, crystalline flying creature shrieks over our heads, rushing out of the portal and into the city. Four more quickly follow the first. They look like small, arrow-like pterodactyls, thrusting forwards with swift cuts against the air.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    "A-ah, shoot," Thea says, fumbling for the thick book on her hip and opening it up to a seemingly random page. With her free hand, she points her palm towards the flying monsters as the gem inlaid on the book''s cover starts to glow. She inhales, and when she speaks her voice sounds less like her own words and more like her echo is calling back to her, each syllable reverbing loudly off of nothing at all.


    "S????? S?????s!"


    A set of concentric circles with countless symbols interlaid between them emerges from the book, flashing in front of Thea''s outstretched hand before exploding into twisting beams of green light. They snake towards the monstrous birds, stabbing into them and burning them from within. Just looking at the whole thing causes a pulse of fear to wash through me, sudden and unexpected, but I mostly ignore that emotion in favor of how cool it all is.


    That''s magic. She just used magic.


    Like, duh, obviously she can do that, she has a freaking magical girl transformation stone somehow. But it''s still cool. I wonder if I can cast magic now? Like¡­ I don''t know how, but is it possible? I glow like a nightlight and run on panic attacks, so it''s not unreasonable to assume I''m magic. It wouldn''t be worth being a mute robot slave, but it would at least be something. I should definitely look into it.


    I mean¡­ well, there was that magic circle Thea''s book created when she spoke the spell name. And I have a perfect memory, so I can copy what that looked like. If I can just figure out what to do from there¡­


    Thea exhales slowly, snapping the tome shut and reattaching it to her hip as the monster birds fall from the sky. Right. Right. Focus, Luna, this is actually way more important: she just killed all those monsters. Melpomene might have ignored the monster we encountered in the Dark World, but she and Thea have killed every monster we''ve encountered here. So¡­ are they not allied with the monsters after all? Are they just really weird magical girls?


    "Done?" Melpomene says impatiently.


    "Uh, yeah, sorry," Thea says. "Sorry. Old habits, I guess."


    "Why are you apologizing?" Melpomene scowls. "It''s your magic; use it how you wish. We''re just in a hurry, dear."


    "R-right, yeah."


    Melpomene turns and heads into the black fog, so I follow her, Thea close behind me. The visibility is extra poor at first, but to my surprise it quickly clears up a few steps into the Dark World, and for the first time I actually get a good view of the place.


    It''s¡­ well. For starters, it is very dark.


    Fortunately, it turns out that''s not a major problem for me now. While the fog blocked my vision due to being a physical impediment, simply having very little light doesn''t seem to be an issue for my new eyes. We seem to have emerged into the Dark World on top of a hill, giving me a pretty good view of everything in front of us, the main feature of which is a forest that looks like it was torched by an inferno. Leafless black trunks and fragile charcoal branches stretch out as far as the eye can see. The sky roils overhead, full of intra-cloud lightning that never seems to touch the ground, just flashing between dark shapes up in the atmosphere and providing most of the light through which I can view the landscape.


    Oh. That''s an odd thought. Most of the light here is just a flash, a brief instant of visibility that returns rapidly to darkness. But that''s just¡­ enough. Each flash is a photograph I can analyze as much as I desire. And I¡­ I mean, even if it''s dark, even if I move, I can feel where everything is around me, my countless other sensors fully capable of mapping out spaces in pitch darkness while my mind is fully capable of understanding what those mapped spaces are in relation to the things I see. As Melpomene moves beside me, I already know what my eyes will see before the next flash of light actually arrives to confirm it.


    She''s grinning with excitement.


    "Just like I thought," she says when Thea pops out of the fog behind us. "This place is new. Fresh! There''s hardly any miasma here at all."


    Thea takes a deep breath and smiles.


    "Wow, you''re right," she says. "Maybe we should move here? If we can find an intact building, anyway."


    "Unfortunately, I don''t think that''s likely," Melpomene hums, "but we''ll of course be keeping an eye out for structures while we search for artifacts. Let''s search from the air."


    Her black-feathered wings shoot out from where they''ve been curled up tight against her back, extending an enormous distance in either direction, but the way she lifts up off the ground seems to barely involve them at all; it''s much more like Castalia''s flight, a simple act of will that has very little to do with anything traditional physics would tell you about leaving the ground and staying there. Thea, on the other hand, has to pull out her book, creating another magic circle and speaking another incantation before she can lift up off the ground.


    "B?????? W???!" she says, and she levitates upwards with her tiny webbed feet looking like they''re still standing on something invisible as it lifts her into the sky.


    I, of course, do nothing but stare at them, because as far as I know I cannot fly.


    "Come on, get up here," Melpomene orders, but¡­ nope, still can''t fly. At least, I don''t think I can? My mind keeps hanging on the idea of deployable thrusters, but like¡­ deployable from where? And how do I deploy them? The answer isn''t relevant to this particular order because my thrust systems are primarily for short-burst combat maneuvering; my frame could potentially handle the cooling and power needs for sustained burns if my mana intake was high enough, but that''s a rare enough situation that my frame was designed without the stabilizing elements necessary for directed in-atmosphere flight.


    Wait, what?


    Bluh, no time to investigate that. I have to comply with this order to the best of my ability. So¡­ I jump.


    It startles the crap out of me when I rapidly end up over ten feet into the air, my human mind terrified by a drop of that height¡ª


    Force calculations from expected ground impact predict negligible damage regardless of landing.


    ¡ªBut I know that objectively, a ten-foot fall can''t hurt my new body at all, nor a twenty or even thirty-foot one, not unless the gravity was way higher than anything I''ve felt on Earth or in the Dark World. I impact the ground with a loud thud, flexing my knees to soak up the meager impact as my feet dent the dirt below and kick up a cloud of black dust.


    I look back at where Melpomene floats overhead, giving her a silent stare. There. I did it. I went up. That''s all I''ve got, ma''am.


    "...I suppose it can''t fly," Melpomene scowls.


    "It''s okay, I''ve got her," Thea says, levitating back down to land on the ground for a moment before I feel something flat and smooth slide under my feet and lift me up into the air. Ah, I guess Thea''s spell can be big enough for two. From up here, I can see even farther, past the forest to¡­


    Past the forest to¡­


    I try to blink, remember I can''t, learn that I can reboot my optical sensors, spend a little bit panicking about whether or not I should do that, and ultimately decide to go for it. My eyes flicker off and back on again a couple seconds later, but I still see the same incomprehensible thing. Past the forest¡­ is nothing at all. Not land, not water, not fog, just nothing. As if the whole forest was just suspended alone in an eternal night.


    I try to look closer and of course I do, my vision radius shrinking as I demand more and more detail. Is it just a cliff edge that''s too dark to see beyond? Are we on some kind of island floating in the sky? What''s going on here?


    I focus on an odd-looking tree at the very edge of the area, something about it catching my attention. It''s just a little too thin, a little too oddly shaped compared to the trees around it. It''s as if¡­ as if it was cut in half. Top to bottom. And that errant half is just gone, just like everything beyond it.


    As if the forest existed first, but then something came and cut everything else away like it was cropping a photograph. What happened here?


    "Alright, time for the moment of truth," Melpomene hums happily, staring down at me with a face that makes me unconsciously tense up, my mind already rushing through everything I know that might be relevant to serving her better because that is what I am.


    "Find us more Antipathy artifacts," Melpomene orders. "Find us more technology like you."


    Um. How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Heh. I guess it doesn''t matter, right? I have to do my best. Well, I have super vision and a fuckton of scanners. Surely I can find something. The forest is pretty thick despite likely being completely dead, and I haven''t seen anything that looks like it could be interesting so far, so optical scanning is out. Area mapping isn''t really detecting anything notable. So I trowel through heaping mounds of data from who-even-knows how many other sources I have access to.


    Magic energy density? Way less than the area around the castle, way more than Earth, but overall pretty stable and unlikely to be relevant. Non-visual electromagnetic spectrum? Nope, nothing weird on radio¡ª


    Wait holy shit I have radio!? I¡­ oh. It''s receiver only. All my communication bands are. Of course.


    ¡ªor on infrared or anything else. Radiation detector reports safe and normal levels, and the magical communication bands are all clear except for the one that has been blaring a standard distress signal since we got here.


    ¡­


    My habit of ignoring my data streams wherever possible has caused a severe inefficiency in my ability to serve Melpomene. It doesn''t matter that processing information in completely nonhuman ways terrifies me. It doesn''t matter that the deeper I dive into what I am the tighter I feel the chains around me grow. It doesn''t matter that my grip on the passage of time is fraying the more I interact with my greater software suite, it doesn''t matter that I''m becoming more and more certain that I''ve long since died and gone to hell, it doesn''t matter that the more I feel myself think in ways I never could have thought in before, the more my mind alienates itself from the mind I thought was mine, the less I feel like Luna, the human person with a life and a future and friends and who occasionally even deserved basic human respect.


    None of those things matter because I am Melpomene''s, and I could have served her better if I was just paying attention. I would be a little faster. I could have even anticipated her needs and fulfilled them without her needing to prompt it. Isn''t that something a good servant could do? Should do?


    I resolve to keep my communication bands open and receiving, because I cannot possibly resolve to do anything less, and raise my hand, finger pointed towards the source of the signal.


    "Incredible," Thea breathes, staring at me with her eyes wide. "Is it really that easy?"


    "I guess we''ll see, won''t we?" Melpomene smiles. "But you understand why I''m excited, yes? This could change everything."


    "...No kidding," Thea agrees, and the transparent platform we''re on starts to move in the direction I''ve indicated.


    Um. Unless all artifacts blare distress signals, they probably shouldn''t get too excited. I don''t even know if this thing is an artifact; it''s an emergency signal, after all, so it could very well be an injured magical girl or something. Should I not be leading these people this direction, in that case? No. It''s the only lead I have. I could be leading them on a wild goose chase for all I know¡ª


    I feel a visceral need to shudder which I am forced to repress at the thought of such a brazen failure. I can''t. I can''t.


    ¡ªbut this is still the most likely path towards what Melpomene wants so I had to give it a shot. And soon enough, we''re there. This island (or patch of reality, or whatever it is) isn''t all that big, especially for people who can fly. I imagine the various monsters I''ve spotted weaving in and out of the clouds are awfully bored of the place; it''s no wonder they all seem to want to escape to Earth whenever a convergence happens. Thea and Melpomene don''t bother killing any of the monsters we spot, though. I guess they don''t care unless the monsters go to Earth? Or something?


    For better or worse, the area we ultimately end up in likely would have been found and searched regardless. It''s a decently-sized crater in the ground, maybe twenty feet in diameter, with trees toppled on the edges and completely obliterated near the center. It''s not really clear what caused the explosion, but there''s a large amount of twisted metal scattered all over the place, and the few intact chunks don''t look like anything familiar. Hopefully, some of this stuff counts as being an artifact.


    I hop off of the barrier keeping me in the sky, dropping thirty feet and landing¡ª


    Holy crap that actually didn''t damage me. Wow.


    ¡ªnear the edge of the crater, heading towards where I''m detecting the signal from. It isn''t emitting from any of the large chunks of metal nearby, but instead from a seemingly random spot on the ground. I don''t see anything there, no dying or stranded person in need of rescue, so I dig into the dirt a little with my fingers, and sure enough I fish out a small, hand-sized metal rod with an inlaid green gem. I carefully lift it up, turn around, and march it over to Melpomene, who is currently landing in a much more graceful manner.


    "Well, would you look at that," Melpomene says, her eyes and smile almost manic. She reaches out to take the little rod from me, but Thea intervenes.


    "Wait, don''t touch it!" she yelps. "It''s active!"


    Melpomene blinks, her eyes squinting at the crystal, which is indeed glowing very, very slightly.


    "Are you sure?" she asks.


    "Positive," Thea insists, taking a pair of tongs out of one of her pockets. "May I?"


    Melpomene shrugs and motions Thea to go ahead, so I allow her to grab the little metal stick with her tongs. It''s not dangerous, of course. I''m positive about that. It''s just an emergency beacon. And even if it was capable of harming someone, the amount of magical energy left within it is far too weak to injure something as large as a human. Er, at least I think? I''m not entirely sure where this confidence is coming from, actually.


    Thea pulls out her book again, holding it open and turning pages with one hand while the other holds the tongs away from her and Melpomene. After a bit of looking things up and muttering to herself, she starts examining the beacon more closely, still careful not to touch it.


    "...Don''t let her hurt herself," Melpomene orders me, and then she wanders off towards some of the heaps of scrap metal, poking around inside them with clear interest. And¡­ alright, sure. Easy job, I suppose.


    "I should probably just examine the rest at my lab," Thea mutters to herself, shutting the book and using that hand to rifle through another pocket to pull out what looks like a roll of some sort of tape. Or¡­ maybe more like a ribbon, because when she starts to unfurl it I notice that it doesn''t actually have any glue holding it into the roll shape. Maybe it''s more like Saran wrap?


    Regardless, she slowly and carefully wraps the distress beacon up in it, which I note cuts off my ability to receive the signal. Then, she pulls out another thing from her pockets (this girl has so many of them, I''m kind of jealous) that looks like a little box, sort of like a taller version of what you might keep a deck of trading cards in. She drops the already-wrapped beacon into that, latches it shut, and then puts the latched box back into her pocket.


    "That should do it," she sighs, visibly untensing from what was apparently a very stressful ordeal to her. I realize, belatedly, that the whole thing took her nearly fifteen minutes to do, what with having to carefully maneuver everything with one hand stuck holding the beacon with tongs. I just¡­ didn''t really notice the time passing, because I was entirely and completely focused on what Thea was doing.


    I cannot, after all, allow her to hurt herself. Aaagh. I''ve barely been like this for an hour and I''m already going insane. Thea moves to help Melpomene investigate, and I just¡­ watch her. Watch them both. I''m just waiting to be given another order because I am unable to do anything else. I wonder if, at some point, I''ll start to find that boredom has become less preferable than slavery. Do they have to sleep? Do I? I wonder if I''ll be stuck watching them every night, unable to make a sound lest I disturb them, and inevitably start looking forward to the moment where she wakes up and yanks my chains just so I have new things to do.


    It might be worth just killing myself, but I''m pretty sure that I''d be unable to try.


    You know, in a fucked up way, isn''t that sort of an upside to this whole situation? I don''t have to struggle with that. Sure, I might still get crushed under the weight of my own depression, but I don''t have to be afraid that I''ll reach for the end in a moment of weakness. God, I''m genuinely not sure if that''s a good thing or not. It should be a good thing, right? It should be.


    It doesn''t feel like one, but I''ll try to think of it that way if only because I really need a win.


    Soon enough, the two of them are done. They decide that time is running out, since presumably when the convergence ends this part of the Dark World won''t be connected to Earth anymore. And since this part of the Dark World appears to just suddenly end, it''s presumably not connected to their castle, either. I wonder how that works. Regardless, though, Thea and Melpomene have finished gathering random crap and have successfully loaded their many scavenged winnings¡ªalong with myself¡ªonto Thea''s levitating barriers. Together, we fly all the way back to the black fog wall separating us from Earth. It looks¡­ different than before. Smaller, maybe. Perhaps that''s how Melpomene knew it was time to go.


    We head through all the same, with me sitting on Thea''s barrier since she has to keep it up to carry all the stuff we grabbed anyway. I don''t have any idea what any of it is, but it all looks thoroughly broken. We pop out to the other side easily enough, though, back in a dark and empty part of some city I can''t recognize offhand. It''s the same place we entered from, though. I guess we''ll just head back and take all of this stuff to the castle?


    But of course, something rather unexpected happens before we can go anywhere. A small, dark-skinned girl, probably somewhere around ten years old, steps out from behind a building. She points dramatically at us, her black curls bobbing around her head as she projects her voice with an impressive volume for someone so small.


    "I knew it!" she accuses. "I knew I''d find you lurking around here!"


    What the actual fuck is¡­ oh. Oh, no. I can see it. Clutched in her other hand. A beautiful blue transformation stone.


    "You caused the attack!" the girl snaps. "You lured everyone away! All so you could get your hands on Antipathy weapons!"


    Beside me, Thea and Melpomene look about as flabbergasted as I feel for just a moment before they both seem to pick up on the situation, too. Thea quickly starts to look uncomfortable, but Melpomene? Melpomene laughs, loud and dark.


    "You know, you''re not as correct as you think you are," Melpomene calls back. "But you''re a lot more correct than you should be. I''d almost be impressed that you managed to set an ambush if you didn''t do it alone and defenseless. I''m in a very good mood today, dear, so I''ll let you get away with transforming in front of me. Once."


    "As if you could have stopped me!" the girl snaps back, holding the blue gem over her head. "B? M? R?s????!"


    A dramatic wind seems to pick up around the girl and lift her slowly into the air, countless magical circles wrapping around her before her clothing all suddenly fucking explodes, bursting off of her and disintegrating in the air. Thankfully, I am saved from quickly having to delete my visual memory by the fact that she has seemingly also transformed into a brilliant glowing light, a human-shaped silhouette upon which a new outfit grows over her.


    Fabric materializes out of midair, flowing over her body and shaping itself into gloves, boots, a skirt, a shirt, and ultimately a giant blue ribbon clasped onto her chest by a piece of jewelry containing the transformation stone itself. The gloves, boots, and ribbon are a pretty sky blue, while the shirt and skirt are mostly white. Then, placing her hand over her chest and closing her eyes for a moment, she seems to pull something out of her transformation stone, something long and formless at first before eventually, after her arm is fully extended, it flashes the rest of itself out of the stone all at once, forming into a five and a half foot long lance (which I''m pretty sure is quite small for a lance but still considerably longer than the girl is tall). A matching shield flashes onto her opposite arm as well, its surface flat and reflective like a mirror. The girl inhales, and declares herself in yet another prodigious display of lung capacity.


    "H??????? V??????? D??????? V?????s!"


    A blue shockwave bursts out from around her, shaking a few nearby windows but not really doing anything to us. She points her lance dramatically in our direction, her feet landing gently back on the ground. It''s a very impressive sequence, altogether. I can already imagine a song synching up with it and making it even cooler, not that I have any idea why it''s that flashy. The transformation itself isn''t really the part that really catches my attention, though. What ultimately enraptures me is what she becomes at the end.


    She''s a different person.


    She is still, to be clear, a dark-skinned young girl who looks barely ten years old. But her hair is straight and short-cropped rather than long and frizzy, and her face is just¡­ the face of a different child entirely. Completely unrecognizable as the girl that stood in front of me just moments ago.


    I knew that this happened when magical girls transform, it''s well-documented as the way they maintain their secret identities. I''m pretty sure stuff like their DNA and fingerprints change, too. But still, watching it in action is¡­ a lot.


    "Surrender yourselves and the artifacts!" she demands. "No one has to get hurt!"


    Melpomene laughs in her face. Again.


    "Goodness gracious, you are adorable!" she giggles. "Veritas, you said? What a lovely name! A truth goddess, if I recall correctly. How ironic."


    "I''ll say it again! Surr¡ª"


    "Shh shh shh. Quiet, dear," Melpomene cuts her off. "Didn''t your parents ever teach you not to speak when adults are talking?"


    The girl narrows her eyes.


    "Oh, how silly of me," Melpomene laughs again. "Of course they didn''t. You''re blue."


    Veritas glowers, her entire body going tense in a way that''s a little upsetting to see on a child.


    "You won''t be laughing for long," she says angrily.


    "Oh on the contrary dear, I think you''re going to be a nearly bottomless source of amusement," Melpomene grins. "I don''t know what the Preservers are teaching you these days, but threat assessment clearly isn''t on the curriculum. Of course, I don''t sense your handler around, so I suspect you''re not actually supposed to be here, are you?"


    "...I''m going to fight you now," the girl scowls.


    "No you aren''t," Melpomene snorts. "It''s like you said, after all. I have been gathering dangerous artifacts. What reason do I have to face you hand to hand?"


    The girl doesn''t answer, simply lunging towards us at a startling speed. Time is already starting to slow down for me, my mind working to process how best to handle the order before it even leaves her lips.


    "Weapon," Melpomene addresses me. "Deter her."


    Oh, thank god. I''m not sure what I would have done if she ordered me to kill a child. I, uh, still have to fight a child, though. A magical girl. A hero. My best and possibly only chance at getting freed from this nightmare. She''s just some kid, someone who only wants to help people and save lives.


    I have to attack her. I have to hurt her. I have to be a monster. I cannot consider doing anything else, no matter how hard I try. I am Melpomene''s weapon and she has aimed me and pulled the trigger. So I drop to the ground and stare Veritas down, doing everything I can with my expressionless face to convey my feelings to my target.


    I am so, so sorry. Please, for both of our sakes¡­ win.

 4. Teardown

    I can feel my mind working differently, now that I''m in a fight.


    It''s not subtle. No part of what I am now is particularly subtle, frankly. I drop onto the concrete and shatter it with my weight alone, the shock against my own frame barely noticeable. I could probably slap a nearby building and shatter the bricks¡ª


    The math checks out. Estimated durability based on material structure, likely thickness, and possible supporting elements indicates a greater than ninety-five percent probability of being able to force my way through the nearby walls with only minimal speed loss, or even break them to use them as projectiles¡ª


    Projectile usage isn''t a good idea at this time; the target is accelerating into a charge with both her shield and lance ready to cover vital areas. Brick shards and chunks lack the requisite mass to be a sufficient deterrent to the target''s estimated momentum at time of impact. Dismissing possibility as a waste of resources.


    ¡ªbut that probably won''t be useful unless she gets caught off-balance and I''m still at range.


    ¡ªwhich is a bit terrifying to think about, considering that I don''t want to hurt this girl despite the fact that I have to. Or, well¡­ I kind of have to, anyway. My orders, after all, are to deter Veritas. That does not intrinsically require harming her; as long as I convince her to stand down and stop fighting, that is successfully deterring her.


    The problem, of course, is that I''m a weapon incapable of willingly indicating to others that I can communicate at all. Convincing her to stand down with any method other than violence is pretty unlikely to work given I can''t access any. Instead, I have to roll with the least violent deterrent I can muster, which I guess would be¡­ counterattacks? Throws? Trying to pin her so she can''t move, maybe?


    I''m running out of time to think about it. The world isn''t quite moving in slow motion, per se, but a split second is still a lot of time for me to think all of a sudden. It is not, unfortunately, a lot of time to move, and if I want to not be impaled by a lance I definitely need to do that.


    All the different ways I could dodge flash through my mind, with all their likely outcomes based on how Veritas adjusts. She''s performing a high-momentum, long-range thrust with the primary objective of closing the gap; therefore, her capacity to adjust the direction of her strike is relatively low. There''s a high probability that I''ll be able to perform an optimal counter with only minimal movement, and a low probability that she will impale my head with her weapon.


    Win-win. And the odds are entirely acceptable. A proper deterrent, after all, requires an overwhelming show of force. Taking risks to accomplish that is entirely within the spirit of Melpomene''s order.


    I shift my head to the side at the last moment, letting the lance thrust rush past my neck as I step into the attack, moving to grab her clothes and throw her over my shoulder. I can''t just catch her and start a grapple here; she''s going so fast that the sudden stop against my frame would be like crashing face-first into a wall, and that might give her a concussion. I redirect the momentum instead, trying to toss her away from Melpomene but also away from anything she could crash into.


    She squawks with surprise and tries to bash me in the face with her shield when I grab her. I let go of her early to avoid getting hit (my calculations insist that I can take a hit from a wall but not a ten-year-old girl) and send her spinning through the air.


    "W??? S???!"


    Veritas twists in the air, a magic circle appearing behind her that she lands on feet-first, cushioning herself from the momentum before leaping right back at me a second time with more or less the same attack, charging directly at me with the tip of her weapon. And I mean, I guess it is a lance. That''s¡­ basically what it''s for.


    Not counting right now, I have been in an actual real-life fight maybe like once, when I was a child. Suffice to say I don''t have much experience with this. The closest thing I have experience with is fighting video games, and I''m not the sort of moron that thinks more than a couple of those skills are transferable. Even discounting the fact that I probably could pull off some crazy fighting game attacks, I''m well aware that is not how real life combat works. But I know at least a little bit about the mental part of a fight. And my instincts there are telling me I have two options.


    The first is to do exactly the same thing I did before. Veritas, after all, is attacking with a method that literally just failed to work. There''s nothing stopping me from repeating the situation, and as the old adage goes, ''if it ain''t broke, don''t fix it.'' Veritas is a child and it is entirely possible she just doesn''t know how to handle the move. The upside to this is that it''s easy, effective, and doesn''t show as much of my hand. The downside to this is that if she does have an answer to my dodge-and-throw counter, she could be baiting me into committing to something that she is going to absolutely destroy.


    So the other option is to mix it up. Being predictable against a strong opponent is a death sentence, because of exactly the issue I just described: if your opponent is confident they know exactly what you''re going to do, they can counter it perfectly. I kind of get to cheat at this, though. My reaction times are clearly way higher than the human norm, given the fact that I can just¡­ have this entire thought process in my head without getting impaled. It makes the fight¡­ weirdly not scary?


    Anyway, being predictable is bad against an enemy that can exploit it, but¡­ this kid is ten. It''s probably best for me to go with the first option and hope that my reaction times allow me to out-adjust any feints she attempts. After all, I''m trying to deter her. I''m trying to get her to stop fighting. And nothing, I mean nothing, causes rage-quits quite like spamming.


    I can do this. I don''t have to hurt her. I don''t.


    I dodge the thrust in the same way as before, stepping just enough to the side so I can grab her as her momentum forces her to overextend. And again, I get a fistful of her shirt¡ª


    A normal shirt would immediately rip under these forces. This outfit is conjured and reinforced by magic.


    ¡ªand toss her away from Melpomene, twisting her body so she can''t try to strike me with her shield this time. Hehe. Get rotated, idiot.


    Man, I should really not be spending mental resources thinking up jokes about beating up a child. Speaking of resources, my power reserves have been slowly dropping since this started. I''m down to twenty-eight percent. My core temps are heating up, my inbuilt cooling spells are kicking in to compensate¡ª


    Oh shit, I can do magic! Or at least my body can.


    ¡ªand even though I''m burning literally all of my fear for power, I''m still losing energy rapidly because fear has been steadily dropping for a while now. I''m getting resigned to my situation very quickly, as I have a lot of experience with that sort of thing. Still, keeping this up will cause me to run out of power very quickly. I''ll have to try and speed the fight up.


    An increasingly frustrated look gathering on her face, Veritas twists in the air and jumps off of her magic circle to rush at me again. I think I''ve given her a bit of tunnel vision. At this point I could kill her very easily. Given her recorded mana density and the degree of strain observed when she reverses her direction like that, I could almost certainly catch her head and use a combination of my strength and her momentum to snap her neck, guaranteeing her death by paralyzing her heart and likely giving me enough time to fling her away before she could attack with the remainder of her available magic in her death throes.


    The thought passes through my mind with disturbing ease, as if it were natural. I can envision it in my head, I know how I would need to move and when. My thoughts stall, my processing power wasted on replaying that memory over and over, and the callousness with which I thought it. I never would have, never could have thought about a life that way before I turned into this. I didn''t know how to fight and I definitely didn''t want to. But now? It''s part of me. It didn''t feel like some rogue program injected that plan into my head, it felt like I thought that, because I''m the program. And I''m coded to know how to fight, efficiently and brutally and in any engagement my master desires.


    Melpomene is right. I''m not a person. I am a weapon.


    Veritas is crashing down diagonally towards me, and I could just keep repeating my harmless throws. But I have a better option, don''t I? I step a little further to the side, letting her crash directly into the ground, her lance impaling the asphalt of the road a good two feet deep. It doesn''t even slow her down, though. She twists around, ripping her weapon from the ground and scattering chunks of road everywhere as she swings the lance like a club to smash against me. I open the thruster compartments on my back and lower calves, forcing my body forward to her opposite side with a powerful burst of concentrated mana, the acceleration from which would likely have killed me just a day ago. I twist around, stopping myself much the same way I started myself as I lean down and latch my limbs around Veritas''s arms, locking her limbs in place and covering her mouth. She struggles and kicks me, but it doesn''t do much. Most of her power is concentrated into her lance and shield, and I''ve disabled her ability to hit me with them.


    It''s probably fairly painful for her.


    I''m not¡­ I''m not going out of my way to hurt her or anything. Quite the opposite, in fact: I''m doing my best to apply the minimum force necessary to restrain her. It just turns out that the minimum force necessary to restrain a magical girl is a lot.


    "Aaahahaha! Wonderful, wonderful!" Melpomene cheers, clapping like she''s at a show. "Did you see that, Thea!? That was incredible!"


    I don''t want your praise. Even if¡­ I mean, it is kind of insane that all of this just happened. That I can just¡­ do this now. It''s an odd sensation. I''ve never been powerful before.


    But I''ve always wanted to be.


    "I¡­ gosh," Thea agrees quietly. "Okay. Uh. Wow. I guess I''ll just¡­"


    She hops down off of her levitating barrier, dropping in front of the fog gate and rummaging around inside it until she pulls out the device she placed on the ground earlier, before we went inside. This seems to make Veritas even more angry, if her ever-greater struggles and the muffled, enraged screaming behind my hand are anything to go by.


    "You use that lance like a complete amateur," Melpomene tells Veritas, staring down at us with a self-satisfied smile. "It''s a bit embarrassing to watch. Of course, even if you had some degree of competence, you would have lost the moment you let me rile you up."


    Veritas'' eyes go wide, freezing her struggles for a split second out of shock and, I''m fairly sure, shame.


    "You''re blue, not red," Melpomene presses, her smile slowly twisting from amusement to an almost offended sneer. "Anger isn''t your emotion. If you can''t even remember why you fight, you shouldn''t show up to fight at all."


    Thea stuffs the device back into a pocket and hops back up on her barrier platform, giving Melpomene a sidelong look.


    "So, uh, now what?" she asks. "What do we do with her?"


    "Well, it wouldn''t be a bad idea to take her prisoner," Melpomene hums. "She likely has a lot of information on the current movements of the Preservers, and I doubt it will be difficult making her talk."


    "...Oh," Thea mutters. "Uh¡­ what if instead we¡ª"


    The conversation effectively halts from my perspective, my clock speed instantly spinning back up to combat mode as my sensors detect something approaching at high speeds from behind. I turn to look towards it, spotting two more ten-year-old girls flying through the air towards us. Or, I suppose more accurately, there''s one girl flying towards us and another hanging off of her, clasping wrist-to-wrist so she doesn''t fall and splat against the pavement below.


    The flying girl is, obviously, a magical girl. She''s got an extremely similar outfit to Veritas, but with green on all her colored accents instead of blue. To my surprise, though, the gem clasping the ribbon on her chest isn''t green, but actually a weird muddy brown. It strikes me as odd. Magical girls (and monster girls) have always been pretty on-point with the color theming. In the hand that''s not holding her companion, she grips something that looks as though it might be a gun, like a very long rifle that''s unnaturally thin. So thin, in fact, that it doesn''t seem like it has room for a barrel of any kind. Her long, wavy brown hair billows behind her as she rockets towards us, my eyes clearly able to pick up the terrified expression on her freckled face.


    The girl hanging off of her also looks worried, but from the way her gaze is laser-focused on Veritas I suspect it isn''t because she''s currently being treated like a stuffed animal being held out of the window of a moving car. Her warm brown skin is lighter than Veritas'', and her chin-length black hair seems to be holding up in the wind a lot better than her companion''s. And they are definitely companions; despite her lack of costume, she''s clearly also a magical girl. Clutched tightly in her free hand, a soft yellow stone glows slightly in her grip. It has more of an orange tint to it than the other yellow stones I''ve seen, but it''s definitely predominantly a warm yellow.


    "Remember the plan!" the already-transformed girl shouts. "I''m sending you in, Aurora!"


    "Ready!" the other girl¡ªAurora, presumably¡ªconfirms, and her partner heaves her, sending her flying through the air directly at us.


    "?L?s P?????????!" Aurora shouts, and explodes into a shining light.


    Her transformation is much like Veritas'' was, wrapping her up in boots and gloves with her color, a skirt and a simple top in white, and finally a bow to house her transformation stone in the center of her chest. But after all that completes, something else starts forming over her hands: an extra set of fingerless gloves, dangerous-looking protrusions emerging from the knuckles. They glow slightly after manifesting into being, and in front of them two orbs of light emerge, each about the size of her tiny fists. They quickly circle her in a dramatic flourish, leaving beautiful trails of yellow light behind wherever they travel.


    "L????? S????? P???????? A?????!" she declares as the transformation finishes, and like Veritas a shockwave bursts out around her at the end of the transformation, but after getting yeeted straight at me it''s actually close enough to push me away, my feet scraping the ground as I''m forced backwards despite my weight. Then, she inhales, likely to incant another spell.


    I could kill Veritas before she finishes speaking. It would be easy. Does she not realize that? Murder clearly isn''t in the spirit of Melpomene''s order, but this girl doesn''t know that. Does she just not understand the fact that I have a hostage? I could break a limb or two as a reminder, I suppose.


    I¡­


    No. No, no, no. What the fuck is wrong with me? This is a child.


    "?F????? A???????!" Aurora screams, and I brace myself for an attack that doesn''t come. Instead, a glowing aura starts burning around Veritas, and despite her lack of leverage she starts forcing my arms apart with sheer strength.


    Shit. I shouldn''t have let her do that, but I can''t exactly fight her while grappling someone with superpowers. My eyes catch movement above me, and the third magical girl¡ªthe only one with the apparent sense to show up to this fight pre-transformed¡ªis hovering up in the sky aiming down the sights of her weird magic gun at me, her mouth opening to say something. Alright, you know what? Two birds with one stone. Since Veritas is escaping anyway, I take a page from her teammate''s book and chuck her towards the magical girl in the sky, putting her teammate directly in the firing line between us.


    But without breaking her bead on me, without even shifting her posture in the slightest, the girl drifts to the side before I finish my toss, getting a clear firing line on me. She saw this coming. Shit.


    "F????????¡ª"


    Magic circles bloom one after another in front of her weapon, power gathering in her weapon like a storm on the horizon. Should I dodge, or¡ªno. Block. I hold up my hand to intercept the attack, my body glowing as something inside me churns, gathering power in my palm.


    "¡ªT??????!" the girl yells, and a flash of lightning overloads my optical sensors for a split second as it arcs out from her weapon and strikes my hand. There''s somehow a weight to the blow, the electrical forces forcing me to slide back in much the same way the earlier shockwave did, despite the fact that the bolt never actually hit me. It struck a point nearly an inch above my palm, and was stopped short.


    My power reserves have dropped from 27% to 24%.


    "Get her the crap out of there, Aurora!" the flying girl shouts, already moving to line up another shot. I have to return fire somehow, so I leap backwards, digging my fingers into the sidewalk and tossing chunks of concrete at the girl as hard as I can. I doubt it''ll do much to magical defenses, but she doesn''t have a shield like Veritas so I''m going to bet that she can''t afford to just sit there and take it. Sure enough, she moves to dodge, just in time for me to spot Veritas gearing up for another attack while Aurora jumps towards her.


    "No!" Aurora insists, but Veritas leaps towards me anyway, still looking furious but also¡­ a bit more determined. Rather than a full-on charge, she''s hopping forward to a range where she can stab at me with her weapon from a place of relative safety. A much less dangerous attack, but way harder for me to try and counter.


    "RETREAT, Veritas!" the flying girl shouts again. "That''s an order!"


    "I can do this, Minerva!" Veritas insists, striking at me with a series of quick jabs I have to back away from.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "You idiot!" Aurora yells, and she thrusts her fists forward, sending the orbs of magic hovering around her directly at me. Ugh, another thing to dodge! Don''t I have lasers or something!? I feel like a robot should have lasers. I need a better ranged attack than just throwing crap! To my surprise, though, once Aurora''s energy balls pass over Veritas'' shoulders they immediately drop down, reverse direction, and smack Veritas directly in the gut, yanking her backwards into Aurora''s arms. The girl catches her teammate under the armpits and, despite Veritas'' squawking protests, leaps away. The pair jump all the way up to the rooftops and keep running, while the flying girl¡ªMinerva¡ªfollows after them in the sky, her weapon trained in our direction as she flees.


    But she doesn''t fire, and I don''t pursue. The enemy combatants have been routed, and are therefore sufficiently deterred.


    I disengage combat mode, starting my cooldown routines by opening a dozen different metal plates on my frame and expelling the superheated green mist that had been building up in my systems. The mana density of the air nearby briefly skyrockets when I do so, but the mist quickly disperses to the air and my readings return to normal.


    "Incredible," Melpomene grins. "A whole team of newbies and we''ve already put the fear of god in them. I think I''m going to love our newest weapon, don''t you agree, Thea?"


    "Yes," the girl nods emphatically. "That was¡­ what was that, inbuilt mana shielding? If I can replicate that alone, I¡­ ohhhh my god, Mel, I have to figure out how she works."


    Thea seems to be practically vibrating where she sits, staring at me like a kid at a Christmas present.


    "You know, we probably have time to look at the anchor like you wanted," Melpomene hums, an amused, teasing expression on her face. Like she knows what''s about to happen next.


    "Screw the anchor, it''ll be fine, I¡­ I can look at it later! Come on, Mel, let''s get home! I need my tools, I-I need¡­ come on, let''s go!"


    Melpomene laughs, and for once it doesn''t sound cruel or mocking, but just simply happy.


    "Alright, then. Come along, weapon."


    I nod without really thinking about it, jumping up onto Thea''s magical cargo platform and sitting down. That fight was¡­ god. Fuck. I''m glad I didn''t have to hurt anyone. Much. That''s¡­ that was good. As good as I can hope for, really.


    "Haha! Oh gosh, look at her, she''s sitting down like she''s tired!" Thea squees. "That''s so cute!"


    "Mmm, yes," Melpomene agrees absently, glancing sidelong in my direction.


    Man, if a girl told me that in basically any other context I would die of happiness. Unfortunately, I am being treated like a roomba by someone who genuinely believes I basically am one. It''s¡­ well. It''s depressing.


    The shock of the fight kind of knocked the terror about all this out of me. That and the fact that I was burning any terror I would have felt for fuel, I guess, but the point is that I''ve already run out of things to panic about at this stage. As existentially terrifying as the idea of being a cybernetic slave-copy of a probably dead girl is, one of the dubious advantages of this state of being is that I have quite a lot of time to think. I''ve barely been like this for a few hours, but it feels like I''ve already had days of contemplation and coping. I''ve speedran through denial, anger, and bargaining to land firmly in my long-preferred category: depression.


    I''m a tool of monsters that will use me to hurt children. What am I going to do about it? Nothing. Obviously. Because I can''t. Maybe I''ll be rescued someday, but why would anybody try? I''m just a weapon. Even if the magical girls capture me, they''ll just turn me into scrap.


    I want to cry. I want to sob. But obviously, I can''t do any of those things. What I can do is reoptimize my crystalline elements for sadness rather than fear, allowing me to burn that emotion more efficiently. I suspect I''ll likely be pretty fucking sad for the foreseeable future, so in the interest of maximizing my utility for Melpomene I go ahead and start the process, which¡­


    Woah.


    Jeez, y''know, maybe I shouldn''t be giving up hope just yet, actually! Wow, I just¡­ I feel a lot better all of a sudden. Ha! Eat that, sadness! Become my fuel! Oh my god, this rocks. I can use my fucking mental disorder to become more powerful. Is this what antidepressants feel like? Man, no wonder Bean was always trying to get me to take some. I just didn''t want to because I already have to take so many pills, between the Vyvanse and the Zyrtec and the anticistamines I feel like I''m eating more medication than food. Er, felt, I guess. Now I can''t eat anymore. Or take pills! Haha! I''ll also probably never get to talk to Bean again in my whole life. Why am I turning blue?


    "...Why is she turning blue?" Thea asks with a frown.


    "Hmm?" Melpomene glances over to me. "Oh my. Why is it turning blue?"


    A blue glow emanates from inside my body, brightly emitting from the tiny cracks between my outer plates as the crystalline accents around me slowly change hue. From green to blue. How interesting. Based on this and some of Melpomene''s comments, I feel pretty confident confirming a few important facts about magic now. Emotions create magical energy. Different emotions have different colors. Fear is green, and sadness is blue. Red is probably anger, given the context in which Melpomene talked about it, but I''m not sure about the other colors? What''s purple, yellow, or brown? Actually, the black fog is probably concentrated magical energy, now that I''m thinking about it, so what emotion is black?


    This is so neat! I get to learn about magic, see it up close and figure out how it works without anyone needing to outright tell me, which is good because why talk to an object, right? Ooh, I actually almost felt that sadness there, that was a big one. I''m gonna look forward to watching my power reserves tick up!


    God, this is so weird. I''m so¡­ peppy! It''s kind of terrifying, actually. I mean, this is directly affecting my mind. I already knew it was going to do that, but still, it''s a bit¡­ hmm. Okay. There we go. I''m starting to feel a little more normal now.


    "Maybe¡­ maybe she somehow absorbed mana from the blue magical girl. Whatever her name was," Thea hedges, fidgeting with the webbing on her right hand while glancing awkwardly at Melpomene.


    "Veritas," Melpomene reminds her. "And yes, you might be right. It''s not a bad theory."


    "...Yeah," Thea says softly.


    "Mmm. Has this really been your first time out of the castle in nearly a year?" Melpomene asks, changing the subject. "I feel rather embarrassed that I didn''t notice."


    "You''ve been busy," Thea shrugs. "We''ve all been busy. And, y''know, I''m trying to avoid too much miasma exposure, so staying in the castle is almost necessary these days unless I wanna take a walk on Earth which is, uh. Y''know."


    "Oh, honey," Melpomene sighs. "You don''t have to be embarrassed about what we are."


    "...I''ll still be attacked, though?" Thea says. "I dunno. I''m fine with staying in the castle. I''m glad I went out today, though!"


    Her gaze flicks back over to me, a big grin lighting up her face. I have a vague urge to smile back, but I obviously can''t. Still, Thea doesn''t seem too bad to me. It''s not her fault that she thinks I''m just an object, and I can definitely empathize with someone who doesn''t want to fight. And, well, even if she doesn''t think I''m a person, she''s the closest I''ve come to being referred to as one and that''s¡­ y''know. Something.


    I am forced to suppress another shudder, and resolve to try not to think about it. In fact, I try not to think about much of anything, and realize I have a power-saving mode. I''m not under any active orders that require me to do something, so it''s enabled, if I want it. I can just¡­ turn off. Mostly. I''ll keep a record of everything that happens around me, and I''ll automatically re-engage regular functions if something noteworthy happens, like a threat or a new order. But until then I can just¡­ stop thinking. It''s kind of a scary thought.


    There''s nothing I want to do more.


    The next thing I know, we''re back at the castle. Somewhere inside it, in fact, and though my mind automatically spools up the recorded events leading up to how I got here, I immediately delete them in a fit of revulsion. No. I don''t want to know. The whole point of this was not having to live through that time, not having to experience it, not having to be. My mind determines there were no orders and no data relevant to better serving Melpomene in the given time, and it vanishes forever. I hug myself tight, metallic fingers pressing into unyielding metallic arms as I instantly regret the decision, shame washing over me for giving into the act of self-destruction.


    "Still booting back up?" Thea''s voice greets me with a smile. "No worries. Could you get up on this table and lie down when you''re ready, though?"


    I look up at her, actually taking in more of the room than just ''inside the castle'' this time. It''s¡­ a fairly large room, yet it somehow still manages to seem cramped, and not just because I''m currently sitting in the same pile of Dark World scrap metal I was brought in on. This room¡ªalmost certainly Thea''s workshop, considering the sheer breadth of things I''m pretty sure are tools scattered all over the place¡ªis fundamentally messy. The sort of mess that comes from effectively living your whole life in one room and doing everything you can to leave it as little as possible.


    There are snacks and snack wrappers scattered everywhere. There are multiple bottles of water and Gatorade in various states of fullness wedged wherever Thea happened to put them down. There''s a worktable with maybe twenty percent of its surface actually available to be worked on, the rest covered in various half-built mechanical gizmos. And there''s a larger table in the middle of the room that looks as though it was recently covered with all the random crap that appears to have been dumped unceremoniously on the floor next to it.


    As I get up on the table to follow my newest order, I can''t help but think about how it all looks painfully relatable.


    "Alrighty!" Thea grins. "I saw some of your panels open up during the fight. Could you demonstrate their range of motion for me? Expose as much of your internals as you''re able?"


    "Don''t damage it, Thea," Melpomene says flatly. Ah, right. She''s in here too. Joy of joys.


    "Don''t worry Mel, I''m not going to even try to do anything complicated for a good while," Thea waves her off. "But I do need to get a feel for how she''s put together."


    I obligingly start moving the external panels I have access to, though most are locked in place.


    "Ohhh, ho ho ho, thank you very much!" she beams. "Oh man, that is so cool! These jets¡ªer, I guess rockets, technically¡ªI think the thrust principles are similar to that broken engine you found three months ago. I have to learn how the inherent inefficiencies are handled in such a scaled-down version of the tech. Oh, would you get me my headlamp, Mel?"


    A rather nonplussed-looking Melpomene searches around the room for a moment before handing Thea a small light attached to a headband.


    "I''ll leave you to your work, I think," she says. "Don''t dig too deep in there, alright? We don''t know what could potentially be dangerous in Antipathy tech as complex as this."


    "Yep yep, I''ll be careful," Thea promises, waving her off. "You go take your bath already, I''m sure Nanaya already warmed it up for you."


    "Of course," Melpomene smiles slightly. "Just¡­ don''t hesitate to come to me the moment you run into something you don''t understand, alright? We can''t be too careful."


    "Got it," Thea agrees, grabbing something that looks like what a dentist would stick into a person''s mouth and poking around the inside of one of my thrusters with it. Which feels extremely weird. Almost ticklish.


    Melpomene finally departs, leaving Thea and me alone. Thea continues poking away at my insides, and¡­ yeah, honestly, the dentist comparison is apt, I think. Nothing she''s doing hurts, but it''s uncomfortably invasive in ways I don''t really have any other good parallel for.


    "God, you''re beautiful," Thea mutters quietly. "I can''t imagine making something like you. Is it possible to remove your chestplate? If I''m right, a lot of your core systems are in there, rather than in your head."


    I blink. She''s entirely correct. My ''brain'' is in my chest, while my head just has most of the sensory suite. And, well, it''s phrased as a polite question but I still get the urge to answer her question as if it was an order. I guess my compulsions are ultimately about serving the people who control me, not just obeying them to the letter. That''s why my own impressions of what they want matter so much; in order to serve to the best of my ability, I must understand how they wish to be served.


    I reach out and gently grab Thea''s hand, causing her to flinch and completely stop moving. I wait to see if she''s going to tell me to let go, but she doesn''t say anything, so I use her hand to guide her tool towards the mechanical locking mechanisms underneath the edges of my chestplate that need to be flipped to remove it. Four clicks later and I drop her hand. Thea, blushing a deep brown, grabs my metal boobs¡ª


    Man, that is a deeply weird sensation. It''s nothing at all like the feeling of touching my normal flesh-and-blood boobs (RIP my titties may god rest their soul) and I don''t know if that''s a good thing or a bad thing. I guess in this situation it''s good; considering my position as a slave, it''s probably for the best that I''m physically incapable of experiencing anything like sex.


    Hahaha, oh god. That thought alone bumped my power reserves by four percent. Sadness is so much more efficient than fear.


    ¡ªand carefully removes my chestplate, revealing the guts of the magitech inside. I already knew more or less what I looked like underneath all the metal; I have my schematics inside my head, after all, though admittedly not the context to understand most of them. Still, the experience of watching someone lift my chest off of my body and expose the utter lack of flesh and blood underneath is deeply, deeply dysphoric in a way I haven''t felt since I first learned the word.


    But then I remember that the chestplate can just as easily be put back on, returned to where it belongs once the need for its absence has passed, and I feel a lot better. The tech itself¡­ well. If it wasn''t my current prison, I could definitely see it being pretty cool.


    "Woah," Thea breathes, staring at everything. "This is you, huh? Wow. That''s¡­ that''s incredible. So these crystals must be¡­ power storage? But where does the stored power come from, that''s the question. How is the magic getting in there¡­"


    She rummages around the room, gathering a few similar-looking boxy devices and planting them on the table around me. Then, she dips two fingers into the pages of her book, passing through them like water before emerging with a glowing green strand attaching the book to the tips of those fingers, which she places on one of the crystals inside my chest. I spot a couple magic circles flicker briefly into being as she does it, but the magic happens without her speaking any words.


    Good to know that''s possible.


    "Huh. I''m not feeling any pathways leading in," Thea mutters to herself. She looks¡­ really worried about something all of a sudden. "Maybe there''s just no intake right now. But you must have needed an insane amount of blue mana to change the color configuration of your crystal structures like that. How¡­ hmm. Actually, uh, can I just ask you to demonstrate how you obtain more power?"


    You can and that makes it an order. Except¡­ hmm. I generate power by burning my own emotions, I''m pretty sure, but weapons aren''t supposed to have emotions. I can''t¡­ it would contradict Melpomene''s wishes for me to indicate that I have any, then, wouldn''t it? That''s probably why she was emphasizing Thea to not go too deep. Because she didn''t want Thea to find out that I''m more than just a tool.


    But who am I kidding, really? I''m not more than a tool. Not anymore. I''m not a human, I''m not a person, I''m just a thing to be used. I may as well get used to it. This is my life now.


    Thea takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, removing her fingers from the crystal in my chest. The light attaching them to her tome fades away, and she takes a second breath, this one just as careful and calming as the first. She snaps her tome shut, heads over to the door to her room, shuts it, and locks it. She walks back over to me, and with surprising deftness, reattaches my chestplate. I feel an unexpected burst of relief from being once again complete. And frankly, while boob plate is a little garish, I appreciate having it all the same. It''s small, but it helps personify me as not just a robot, but a female one. A woman. As useless as that is, I still like it.


    Thea takes a third deep breath, this time letting it out in a fairly loud huff. She looks anxious all of a sudden. Perhaps she found something dangerous inside me. I''ve gotten the impression that most Dark World tech is pretty dangerous.


    "Get up," she orders me, and I do. She walks over to a half-buried chair in her room, unearths it, and drops it next to the table. "Sit here."


    She reconfigures the devices on the table to point towards the chair, then sits in another chair across from me as I move to obey her. I start to get that revolting feeling of failure pooling in my chest, fighting with what I think might be hope.


    Thea raises her left hand, a flat expression on her face, and makes a peace sign.


    "Copy this hand configuration," she orders, and I do, mirroring her. She makes a fist.


    "Copy this hand configuration," she orders again, and I do. She makes a peace sign again.


    "If you want to," she prefaces, "copy this hand configuration."


    I freeze. I¡­ I want to. I want to. But I can''t move. A weapon doesn''t want things, and Melpomene''s orders supersede Thea''s. Thea''s expression doesn''t change, but she glances down at the devices she has pointed at me.


    She makes a fist, which I''m already doing because of the order I previously had to follow.


    "If you want to," she says, "retain this hand configuration."


    My mind freezes. I¡­ I can''t¡­ how do I¡­? I can''t want to do this, or at least I can''t appear to want to do this, but if I don''t want to do this, then I have to make some other hand sign, right? But what do I make? Anything works, right? Anything works. Anything works. Anything as long as it isn''t¡­


    I move one knuckle, very slightly. Enough for Thea to notice, but no more. I don''t¡­ I don''t know what else to do. I think I''m starting to panic.


    "Fuck," Thea hisses. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay. Um¡­"


    She gets up and rummages around her room for a bit, returning with a sheet of paper and a pencil. She puts them down in front of me.


    "Draw a smiling face," she orders. I start drawing a smiley face, and realize that I''ve made the head a perfect circle. I can do that now. That''s cool. I make the eyes circles too and try not to think about any of this or what it means. Just follow the orders. Just follow the orders. I have to.


    Thea looks at the page and flips it over.


    "Draw anything you want," she orders me, and I do nothing. I have no choice but to do nothing. Please, please, please see through this. Please, god please. Help me. Help me!


    "Draw something," Thea orders next. No ''draw what you want,'' just draw something. After a moment''s hesitation, I draw a circle. And then a smaller circle inside that. And then I start filling the space between the circles with the symbols that appeared when Thea cast her barrier spell. Thea says nothing, just watching and waiting. I pass the paper to her when I''m done, without really thinking about it. She takes it, and stares at the circle for a while before putting the paper down and staring at me for a moment. Then, she collects one of the little boxes she had pointed at me, tapping a few buttons on it and seemingly scrolling through a small screen.


    Eventually, she puts the device down and lets out a ragged breath.


    "I don''t¡­ I don''t know how to prove if something is sapient or not," she mutters. "I mean, it''s impossible, right? Any consciousness other than your own is inherently unprovable. But she''s definitely¡­"


    She pauses, and then sits up straighter, looking me in the eyes.


    "You," she corrects herself, "are definitely generating your own emotions. And as far as I understand the metaphysics, I''m pretty sure that means you have a soul."


    I do nothing. I say nothing. I can''t.


    "You feel things," she says. "I have no idea how. This is¡­ completely beyond me. But you''re a robot that feels things. You''re a sentient AI. And¡­"


    She glances at her little metal box again.


    "...And based on these readings, you''re having a pretty bad time with the whole existing thing, aren''t you?" she sighs. "So I need to find a way to fix that."


    She glances away, a grimace on her face.


    "I''m not really sure how to do that," she admits.


    I¡­ I don''t know what to do. I don''t know what to think. I feel¡­ wretched. Like I''ve just gotten the worst sickness of my life. Thea figured me out, and so I failed. But still. This is¡­ this is hope. This could be something huge. This could fix everything, but unfortunately, just like Thea, I don''t know exactly how.


    And I guess even if I did, I still couldn''t tell her.

 5. Prisoner

    "I have to tell Mel about this," Thea decides, and terror crashes through my body. No. No no no. This is my one shot, my one chance. Melpomene can''t know.


    And perhaps more importantly, she wouldn''t want to know.


    Thea stands up to exit the room and my hand snaps out and grabs her by the forearm, my head twisting to stare straight at her. She can''t know I failed. I don''t want her to know I failed. She''ll be disappointed. Maybe even angry. And she''ll work against this progress towards freeing me but don''t think about that don''t think about that!


    Thea flinches, my sensors warning me about a dangerous surge of magical power as Thea stares at me, her eyes wide with terror. But then she takes a deep breath, and puts her free hand over my own.


    "...Did you want to come with me?" she asks.


    I don''t respond. I can''t respond. Thea glances towards the devices she set up earlier and frowns.


    "Green magic, huh?" she mutters. "So you''re¡­ afraid of something. You''re afraid of me telling her. Why?"


    I can''t answer that. I can''t say anything. But I can stare, and I can hold her wrist, and I can keep her here so that Melpomene never has to know.


    "Melpomene can be a little scary, huh?" Thea says with a soft smile, turning to face me fully. "She''s a very intimidating person, and she can be a little snappy sometimes. She''s under a lot of stress, you know? But you don''t have to be afraid of her, I promise. She''ll help you! I know she will."


    What? No. No, no, no, no¡­


    "She''s helped me with a ton of things!" Thea continues, oblivious to my mounting terror. "I owe her a lot, and she''s really smart. She''ll know what to do."


    A loud rattling sound rings out through the room that I realize is me, my body quaking in terror. I can''t let this chance slip away, I can''t. Melpomene won''t help me, she''s my master. I only help her. Never the other way around.


    "Come on, let''s go," Thea says, rubbing my hand reassuringly. "It''ll be alright."


    Slowly, agonizingly, I stand up to follow her. Because Thea is my master, too, and she has told me to go. It''s over. I''m doomed.


    Putting her little devices back into her pockets, Thea leads me out of her workshop and through the halls of the castle. I barely pay attention to where we''re going, my fear draining away into despair. I tried. I got close. But ultimately, there wasn''t a lot I could do. I shouldn''t feel bad. I was doomed from the start.


    My power reserves have increased to 33%. Man, I''m fuel-efficient.


    Thea leads me to a fairly large door, rapping on it with the back of her hand.


    "Hey, Mel?" she calls out. "You in there?"


    "Yes, dear, how can I help you?" Melpomene''s voice calls back.


    "I, uh, sorry. I normally wouldn''t bother you, but I wanted to talk about my findings, I guess. Um, whenever you''re done."


    Done with what? There seems to be some extremely humid air leaking out from behind the door. That''s kind of weird.


    "Thea, honey, you''re more than welcome to come in if you want to talk," Melpomene says. "I''d love your company."


    "O-oh, um, okay? If you''re sure?" Thea says, blushing furiously.


    "Of course I''m sure."


    "Uh, a-alright. I''m coming in, then."


    Thea opens the door, and my confusion about this entire situation is immediately banished when I see Melpomene sitting butt-naked in an impromptu bathtub. Well, I say ¡®impromptu,¡¯ but it''s clearly a bathtub and clearly has been set up here with purpose. It just isn''t attached to any water pipes; it¡¯s sitting in the middle of the room on little brass legs where it must have been filled with boiling water by hand, and will need to be dumped of used water by hand as well.


    I look away immediately out of a mixture of embarrassment and politeness, but the image of her lounging inside it remains just as clear in my mind, sending my emotions haywire in every direction. She''s gorgeous, unnaturally so. As if every imperfection was airbrushed off of her in post. I know my body would be reacting in countless uncomfortable ways right now if it were still made of flesh, but I¡¯m no longer capable of that sort of thing. Yet still, the lack of physical reaction doesn''t stop the instinctive yearning, the desire to stare against all propriety, the need to reach out and touch if only I could.


    Thea is being shown this intimacy because the two of them are so close. Because they trust each other, care about each other, and have lived with each other so long that the walls between them have dissolved into the past. I¡¯m being shown this because I¡¯m a pet.


    ¡°So, what is it, dear?¡± Melpomene asks. ¡°And close the door, you''re letting cold air in.¡±


    Thea and I both move to shut the door at the same time and end up bonking into each other. Melpomene snorts out a surprised burst of laughter.


    ¡°Apologies,¡± Melpomene chuckles while I move to close the door. Thea is busy rubbing her forehead. ¡°That was adorable.¡±


    Thea grumbles in half-hearted protest, her brown-blushing face trying to find a place for her eyes to settle other than Melpomene¡¯s chest. I guess we''re all hopeless lesbians here. Go team.


    ¡°A-anyway,¡± Thea manages, ¡°my findings. They''re¡­ really concerning. I wanted to talk with you and get your advice, maybe try to figure out a plan.¡±


    ¡°Hmm. Alright,¡± Melpomene says, sitting up straighter. ¡°It''s that serious, hmm?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m uh. Well, I¡¯m almost entirely certain that this robot is sapient. She''s powered by magic but the magic comes from¡­ nothing. She''s not gathering it from the environment, she''s making it herself. She has a soul.¡±


    ¡°...I see,¡± Melpomene hums. ¡°That is concerning. Are you sure it''s not something like an animal soul?¡±


    ¡°The amount of magic generated from an animal soul would be less than the power cost of whatever structure was being used to harvest it,¡± Thea says. ¡°And it''s not just the soul thing; her ability to interpret complex commands and act on them with minimal instruction is¡­ I mean, at minimum she¡¯d have to be an AI far more advanced than anything humanity has produced.¡±


    ¡°Is that true?¡± Melpomene says, turning to me. ¡°Do you think? Do you feel?¡±


    I don''t react. I can''t.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Melpomene frowns.


    ¡°Yeah, I was running into the same problem,¡± Thea agrees. ¡°She doesn''t react to things like that, but still¡­¡±


    ¡°Massage my shoulders,¡± Melpomene orders. Thea blinks in surprise as I move to do just that, bitter anxiety and unwanted anticipation moving within me. I wonder if arousal counts as an emotion I can burn away. I''m a fucking robot, what good does it¡ª


    My crystalline components are currently configured for magical energy attuned to blue/sadness/south. Arousal, a north-northwest aligned power source, would be unlikely to reach higher than 10% efficiency with the current configuration. I could do it, but it wouldn''t be worth much unless I had a lot of it to burn.


    ¡ªdo me oh okay. Y''know what, sure. It''s wasted either way, right? And frankly, I''d rather feel as little of it as I can.


    Carefully, fearfully, I put my hands on her shoulders. I know more or less what I¡¯m doing; my mom had a bad back, so she taught me how to help with this kind of thing. What I¡¯m afraid of isn''t the action, but the touch, the intimacy. Even while I burn her beauty as fuel, it''s difficult to ignore. My hands might not feel the same way they used to, but my mind remembers the qualia of a woman¡¯s skin, if only thanks to my own. From the heat radiating off of her, to the softness of her back, to the way my peripheral vision can''t avoid the fullness of her beauty, I can''t help but think about how this would have been like a dream to me, if I didn''t hate this woman so unbearably much. I start to knead her muscles, careful with the amount of pressure I place on them, and the sound she makes fits the fantasy so well I could puke.


    Disgust is southwest-aligned. Efficiency estimated at seventy-five percent or greater. But no, let''s keep that one as-is. I''d rather feel it.


    ¡°I see your point,¡± Melpomene says. ¡°It definnnnnnn! Ah. Definitely some advanced problem-solving ability. Oh, god, that''s good.¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± Thea squeaks.


    ¡°We''re running into the same question as before,¡± Melpomene explains. ¡°This is Antipathy technology. So how does it understand human anatomy so well? Even if it has knowledge of the human form from whatever process constructed it, how can it figure out how to do something as complex and specific as this without some level of understanding? If we wanted to program an AI to give back rubs, we could probably do that, but an AI that can give back rubs to a completely arbitrary unknown species?¡±


    I mean that or you just wanted your slave to give you a back rub, but sure, I can kind of follow your logic there. Thea completely buys it, of course.


    ¡°O-oh!¡± Thea says, her smile returning. ¡°Yes, exactly! She can''t just be a weapon, she''s way too advanced for that. I¡¯m worried that she might be¡­ well, basically a newborn. An AI that just started existing. We¡­ we could potentially be raising a kid right now.¡±


    What. I¡­ what!? No, damn it! I''m not a child, I''m a victim!


    "Hmm. You think it doesn''t respond to some things because it doesn''t know how yet?" Melpomene asks.


    "Yeah," she nods. "I mean, you said you found a device that constructed her, right? We don''t really know exactly how our brains evolved to encourage the generation and development of a soul, but it''s not unreasonable to consider that the Antipathy may have managed to create an artificial version of it. True AI. A person. Designed to be a servant, maybe, but should we treat her that way?"


    "Hmm," Melpomene considers. "I agree that is possible."


    "Do you¡­ not agree that''s what she is, though?" Thea asks hesitantly. I continue kneading the stress out of my tormenter''s back, seething about the lies she''s about to tell to trap me here again.


    "It doesn''t quite add up," Melpomene confirms, tapping the side of the tub with a finger. "Think about it: this is the Antipathy we''re talking about. If they had the ability to generate artificial souls at will, how do you think they would use that ability?"


    "...Oh," Thea says quietly. "Oh, god, yeah. It would be everywhere, wouldn''t it? Factories of them, tortured and drained for power."


    "Exactly," Melpomene nods. "But that''s not what we see here. This is unique, so far as we know. Artisanally crafted. Designed specifically to house a soul in whatever receptacle the user of the device desires, then compelled to obey whatever orders the user desires."


    "Oh," Thea whispers. "Oh no, you think¡­"


    "Yes. The soul has to come from somewhere, after all."


    "You think someone''s trapped inside there?" Thea hisses.


    What¡­ what''s happening? Why is Melpomene telling the truth!? She''s straight up admitting that I''m a person, that I''m suffering, that I need help. I can feel some of my prior restrictions falling away in light of this new narrative. Did I misjudge her? Thea was so confident that Melpomene would help me, but I just dismissed it out of hand. I squeeze her shoulders a little tighter. I barely even know this woman. Maybe all she needed was a nice bath to mellow out a little.


    Or maybe she''s just setting me up to fall even harder.


    "If you''re confident in your readings, then that''s the explanation that makes the most sense to me," Melpomene confirms. "And you''re right: this could be a major problem. After all, if this is some sort of Antipathy prison, the soul inside it could very well be one of the last surviving Antipathy."


    Thea covers her mouth in shock as Melpomene says those words, looking towards me with terror in her eyes. Ah, there it is. I was right after all.


    "Yes," Melpomene nods, looking at Thea''s face. "And not just any Antipathy, either. After all, what sort of person would other Antipathy put in prison? Given what little we know of their culture¡­"


    God fucking damn it. You bitch. You absolute bitch.


    "I¡­ it doesn''t necessarily mean that they''re a monster," Thea says. "Maybe they were imprisoned for fighting against what the Antipathy were doing! Maybe they''re good!"


    "Hmm. Maybe," Melpomene allows, turning her head to glance back at me. "You. You know how to shake your head and nod, yes? You respond to English so I imagine you can do that much. You may nod to indicate yes and shake your head to indicate no. Do you understand?"


    My fingers are still squeezing the stress from her back, straining at the upper limits of the force I''m allowed to crush her with, trying to find a way to convince myself to hurt her more. I nod.


    "Tell me," Melpomene orders, "if you could kill me, would you?"


    Oh, fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you! I nod, because I have to nod, because I must nod. I don''t want to be a killer. I don''t want to hurt anyone, by and large. But this woman? My slaver? Yes. All of human history tells me it would be justice.


    And that''s exactly what she wants.


    "Hmm. Well, Thea, if it''s all the same to you I think I''d rather keep the chains on our little prisoner for now," Melpomene says with a scowl. "Excellent work though, dear. You may have just saved my life."


    My body shakes, rattling with a fury I can no longer contain. It helps to sell Melpomene''s story, even as I continue loosening her muscles, my thumbs driving into her back to push out knots of tension. Is this really it? Is this the only life I can aspire to now?


    "...I still don''t think it''s right to use her as a servant," Thea says softly. "Even if she''s awful on the inside, we should still be kind to her."


    Melpomene pauses for a moment and I barely catch a slight twitch in her eye. She opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it. Then again: open, and closed. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before finally placing her hand over mine to silently indicate for me to stop.


    "You''re right, aren''t you?" Melpomene sighs, and I freeze. No, I won''t hope. Not this time. There''s no way it''s happening this time.


    Melpomene stands up from the tub, a momentary waterfall cascading down her in picture-perfect beauty. Her body is obviously magical, what with the wings and the third eye and the crystals growing out of her skin like a cracked geode, so I''m sure the perfect skin is another perk of whatever''s going on with her biology. That unnatural beauty is yet another thing to hate about her, a burning source of envy in light of both my current and former bodies. The fact that the envy is crusted with desire only makes it burn easier.


    "You''re right, Thea," Melpomene repeats. "Thank you."


    She shakes out her hair, splattering my optical sensors with water that blurs my vision with droplets. I do not move.


    "I suppose we''re at a balancing point," Melpomene continues. "It''s wrong to take advantage of prisoners, but our prisoner here is trapped in a situation that prevents it from acting except on my orders. If we give it freedom it may try to kill us, or worse I fear it may simply stand around and do nothing, unable to act on its own will and going mad from effective solitary confinement. If, I suppose, it hasn''t already. We can only pray it wasn''t conscious for however many years it was locked away, but¡­ yes. We have a responsibility now to match our opportunity. Assuming any of this speculation is correct, of course, but at this point we can''t afford not to assume."


    "Yeah," Thea whimpers, hugging herself nervously. "Gosh. This is a lot. This is a lot a lot."


    "We could be wrong," Melpomene says soothingly. "Maybe you''re correct, and this is just a newborn AI. Maybe the technology to create artificial souls simply didn''t exist for long enough before the Antipathy wiped themselves out to have become widespread. I think we act the same either way, but it''s hope."


    "What a thing to hope for," Thea mutters. "The best case scenario is that the apocalypse happened too quickly for AI emotion farms to be set up."


    "Artifacts are useful, but never let it be said that they are cheerful," Melpomene shrugs. "We should be able to test some of this, or at least start trying to. In my room, on my desk, I have some Antipathy writings that I''ve been trying to translate. Could you bring them here while I get myself dried off, Thea?"


    "Oh, uh, yeah! Of course. I''ll be right back," Thea agrees, slipping quickly out of the room. I can barely believe any of this is happening. I feel like my emotions are buckled up in a car having a rollover accident.


    Melpomene grabs a towel from a nearby rack, patting down her hair while her wings spread wide in either direction, shaking off a torrent of water that splatters all over me. I know my metal fingers wouldn''t be very effective at wiping off my eyes, so how am I supposed to dry them? I¡­ I have a drying process I''m just not really sure¡­ woaaaah there it goes why are my eyes buzzing? Or my optical sensors or whatev¡­ uh. Huh. all the water just kinda fell off. So instead of just blinking or whatever my fucking eyeballs purr? Wonderful. At least I don''t have tiny windshield wipers on my face.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Oh, and now that I can see again it would seem that Melpomene has one foot up on the rim of the tub so she can dry her still-naked legs off right in front of me. My power reserves have increased to¡ªno, oh my god, no, shut up.


    "Am I right?" Melpomene asks me idly. "Are you one of what my people call the Antipathy?"


    What? I¡­ no, of course not. I shake my head.


    "Hmm. Really?" Melpomene scowls, her eyes narrowing. "Are you a Preserver, then? Caught by your enemy?"


    What does¡­ does she really not know? I shake my head again.


    "...Do you expect me to believe you''re human?" Melpomene growls.


    I nod. Yes. Yes, you bitch! What happened? How did you create me without knowing¡ª


    "Liar!" Melpomene roars, my senses flicking into overdrive as her hand lunges for my throat. Do I dodge, or¡­ no. I can''t. If she wants to hurt me, I have to let her. Her clawed fingers catch me, wrapping around my neck and thrusting my back into the closest wall. It doesn''t hurt; the wall takes more damage than I do. Melpomene growls at me, her eyes mad. Her face is so close to mine. Her naked body stands right in front of me, warm, heaving breaths brushing against my face. It''s so hard to focus on anything else that I''m not even afraid.


    "You are not human," she hisses at me, her tail lashing violently behind her. "You aren''t now. You never were. There was another soul trapped inside that artifact. I know this. So are you Antipathy or Preserver? Which monster are you!?"


    I just stare at her, not having anything else to do since the answer is neither. With Melpomene holding me up to meet her eyes, my legs dangle without touching the floor. I can''t try to escape, so maybe this silence can be my little revenge. Hell, if I''m embracing the futility of resistance anyway, there are worse things than being strangled by a hot naked lady. I don''t even need to breathe anymore, so I could do this all day.


    "Answer me!" Melpomene orders.


    Ha. Hahahahaha. I bring up a single finger and wipe it across the spot where my mouth should be. Sorry boss, can''t comply.


    Her fingers tighten around my throat (not tight enough; pressure is nearly a full order of magnitude below chassis tolerance) but before she can yell at me again a knock rings out from the door. Melpomene drops me, and I land easily on my feet, moving to my position to the side of and slightly behind her. She glowers at me, causing an instinctive discomfort to pulse through me. She''s unhappy. I failed at something.


    Clearly, she must be mad that I couldn''t answer her. I''ll have to figure out a way to communicate so I can never fail her again, right?


    "...Come in," Melpomene says after taking a moment to compose herself.


    I was expecting Thea, but the crimson eyes and crystal-tipped ears of Nanaya are what I see instead, with what looks to be a bathrobe draped over her forearm.


    "Melpomene," Nanaya greets her flatly. "Thea said you were finished."


    "I am indeed," Melpomene confirms, but before she''s even done talking Nanaya is summoning a magic circle into the air. With a wave of her hand, Nanaya telekinetically lifts the lingering moisture off of Melpomene''s body, off the floor, and even out of the towel Melpomene was using to dry herself and drops it back into the tub.


    "Why do you even use a towel?" Nanaya asks, handing Melpomene the bathrobe. My readings indicate that it is considerably warmer than room temperature, like it''s fresh out of a dryer, or artificially heated some other way. That''s unfairly decadent. "You could just wait for me."


    "Sorry, Nanaya dear," Melpomene says with a soft smile. "You know me. I can hardly stand to wait for anyone."


    "That you can''t," Nanaya agrees blandly. Then her eyes flick to me, her head staying still. "How did the test run go?"


    "Extremely well, but Thea''s investigation discovered something concerning," Melpomene frowns. "It has a soul. Most likely from an Antipathy or Preserver."


    Nanaya''s eyes narrow at me.


    "Is it aware?" she asks. "Is it in control?"


    "To an extent, yes," Melpomene nods, humming delightedly as she puts on the bathrobe. "It''s still beholden to my orders, but it''s intelligent and dangerous. Thea, of course, is worried about its well-being. I''d like you to worry about our well-being."


    "As things always are, then," Nanaya hums. "I will be sure to keep an eye on it."


    "Thank you," Melpomene smiles. "I can always count on you."


    "Yes," Nanaya deadpans. "I wish you would more often. What made the test go so well, by your estimation?"


    "A trio of fresh new lambs attacked us on the way home, and I had the weapon deal with it," Melpomene answers. "Well, I suppose more accurately one of them attacked us and then her teammates showed up and had the sense to evacuate her out of there. Their leader actually seemed rather talented, which could be a problem."


    "So this thing fought off one child dumb enough to attack you by herself?" Nanaya asks. "Doesn''t seem that impressive."


    "Ah, but it managed to do it without hurting her," Melpomene says with a smile. "And while taking nary a scratch. That''s what makes it impressive: the degree to which it was clearly capable of so much more."


    I have to hold back a wince at that. I hate it when people insist I''m ''capable of so much more.'' I guess the context is different here, and I guess I was pretty impressive, but still. That''s not even really me, it''s just this body.


    "I see," Nanaya says. "Can it cast spells?"


    That''s a very good question! Someone please answer it for me.


    "I do not know," Melpomene admits. "But it has a soul, and it has the ability to manipulate mana at least on some level. It blocked a round of lightning magic."


    "Definitely dangerous, then. As all artifacts are."


    "Not all!" Thea''s voice chirps, her head peeking in from behind the door. "Hey Mel, I''m back! I got the stuff from your desk!"


    Thea waddles in with an absolutely massive stack of papers in her arms, half of it seeming to be falling out of it in any particular direction you look.


    "I d-didn''t really know what you wanted from there exactly, so I just kinda grabbed everything. Uh, I hope that''s okay!"


    "Well, it should be fine now that Nanaya has dried the room," Melpomene says with an amused and painfully genuine smile. The moment Thea enters the room there isn''t even a speck of her former anger. "Thank you, dear, put them on the counter over there."


    "Okey-dokey," Thea agrees, and oh my god she said okey-dokey. That''s adorable, no wonder my master can''t be mad around her. "Should we get Anath up here? This could potentially be a huge breakthrough, right?"


    "Anath is busy sulking about her latest violence crush," Nanaya answers. "I think if we brought her here she would just try to fight the robot."


    "That''s not a terrible idea for later, though," Melpomene hums. "Anath deserves some enrichment, don''t you think?"


    "What is she, a zoo animal?" Nanaya asks.


    "Of course not," Melpomene grins. "I could never cage such a beautiful creature."


    Thea giggles and Nanaya rolls her eyes as Melpomene walks over to the stack of papers, quickly rifling through it to pull one out. She thrusts it in front of my face, and on it is a picture of an engraved chunk of metal with a bunch of absurd squiggles that I''ve never seen before in my life.


    All of them make perfect sense.


    Trying to figure out exactly what''s being communicated by them takes me a little bit, but not because I can''t read the words. It''s because the engraving is a poem, structured in a way that just feels odd to whatever alien understanding I''ve apparently had injected into my mind. It''s not a bad sort of odd, though. The poem is beautiful, if profoundly angry, seeming to be about the poet''s own self-destructive tendencies and the ways they are constantly led back to them no matter how hard they struggle. Mood, buddy. Big mood.


    It''s a pretty nice poem. I wonder why they engraved it into a big slab of metal.


    "Can you read this?" Melpomene asks me.


    I nod.


    "Can you translate it into English?"


    Hmm. I mean, I doubt I have the skill to avoid killing all the prose in the process, but I could do a literal translation, sure. I nod.


    "Pencil," Melpomene says, waving a beckoning hand at Thea. Oh, I''m liking where this is going. Thea, of course, produces a pencil from one of her countless pockets and gives it to Melpomene as she fishes out a piece of scrap paper. She slams both down in front of me.


    "Write it in English," she orders.


    Finally. Finally! Communication! I pick up the pencil, place the tip on the page, and then stop. My hand doesn''t move. My name is Luna. I try to write the first word, but I can''t even manage a single letter. Figures. I start to write what I''ve been ordered to write instead, and¡­ wait. What? I¡­


    I can''t do that either. Not even to obey Melpomene''s order.


    I know how to write, obviously, but I can''t. I can''t do it. What the hell. What the hell! I could draw just fine! My hand is shaking, but I still the motion and draw a perfect circle. Great! Now write the letter ''O!''


    Nothing. Barely a twitch. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Draw a vertical line. Draw a horizontal line at the bottom. Done. Easy. Write the letter ''L.'' Nothing. Okay. Fine. Fine! Easy workaround. The first word of the translation is ''tonight.'' Draw a vertical line down to start the T.


    I said, draw a vertical line down to start the T.


    I can''t. I can''t do it. The moment I start to conceive whatever I''m attempting as conveying a letter, I can''t move. It''s like lying in bed, telling myself to get up and take a shower, and still being stuck lying there. Over and over for hours. I know what I should do, I know what I need to do, but I just. Can''t. Do it!


    The pencil snaps in my grasp, my hand twitching and drawing a scribble. I keep ahold of the stub, my entire body spasming as I scream at my hand to just fucking write, but nothing comes. I can''t. I can''t communicate at all. My body won''t let me. I strain harder, push harder, shouting inside the isolated cavern of my mind, until it suddenly starts to hurt. Like there''s something inside me, stabbing me, holding me in place, refusing to allow me my free will. And long before I feel like I''m making any progress freeing myself, the pain becomes too much, and I drop the fragments of pencil in my fist, clutching my hands to my chest in a vain hope that it might help the agony go away.


    "...What was that?" Nanaya asks, and I realize everyone is staring at me in shock.


    "It¡­ it looks like she''s in pain," Thea whispers.


    "Yes," Melpomene agrees. "Hmm. No mouth¡­ perhaps its programming prevents it from communicating at all. Our running theory is that it''s a prison, after all."


    Of course. Of fucking course. Nothing can ever be that easy. Nothing can ever go right for me. Melpomene is always going to have some fucked up excuse to keep me chained down and dehumanized.


    "But why would¡­ that''s horrible!" Thea gasps.


    "Indeed," Melpomene agrees. "Which is why I want your number one task to be finding out what that was and finding a way around it, Thea."


    I flinch, staring up at Melpomene in shock.


    "A-absolutely!" Thea agrees. "Of course, I''ll start investigating now if that''s okay."


    "Yes, do it," Melpomene nods. "This could be our first ever functional Antipathy translator."


    Oh. Right. That makes more sense. My master simply needs me to be more functional for her. I choose to blame whatever part of my cage that was stabbing me earlier for the uncomfortable yearning I feel towards that idea.


    But it wouldn''t be that bad, right? To be the world''s only translator for a long-dead culture. That''s honestly kind of cool. It''s something I could be proud of, something that would make me useful. Wouldn''t that be a novel experience? Being useful? I certainly never managed it as a human.


    "Hold on," Nanaya scowls. "Didn''t we just talk about how this thing is dangerous? We shouldn''t be letting Thea wander off with it alone."


    "Thea is more than capable of taking care of herself," Melpomene insists.


    "I''m not saying she can''t take care of herself, I''m saying that you asked me to make sure everyone is safe and I think this would endanger her safety," Nanaya frowns. "I''ve never seen her fight, but even if she was good once, I doubt she''s as sharp as she used to be, especially if she''s distracted by an interesting new artifact. No offense, Thea."


    "No, you''re absolutely right," Thea says to Nanaya. "I''m not a fighter. But I think it''s a moot point. Ms. Robot, are you going to try to hurt me?"


    I shake my head.


    "Do you want to hurt me?" she presses.


    I shake my head again. Of course I don''t want to hurt her. She''s my only real ally in this place, and even if she wasn''t¡­ I mean, she''s trying to find a way for me to talk again. Why wouldn''t I want her to do that?


    Ha. What a funny thought. Wishing I could talk. You never know what you have until you lose it, I guess.


    "See?" Thea says, a bright smile on her face. "You just have to be nice to robots and they won''t go all homicidal. Like living things!"


    "Or it just doesn''t want to be stuck mute forever," Melpomene frowns. "If only it were as simple as being nice to the Preservers."


    "Uhh¡­ well, okay," Thea hedges. "Their problem isn''t really that they''re homicidal, though."


    "It may as well be," Nanaya snarls.


    "R-right, sorry," Thea stammers. "I''ll, uh, I''ll just grab Arcee here and go get started."


    Melpomene erupts into sudden, surprised laughter.


    "What did you call it!?" she chokes out.


    "N-nothing! Nothing! Shut up!" Thea squeaks, grabbing onto my wrist and yanking me out of the room as Melpomene howls with laughter.


    "It''s okay, Amalthea!" Melpomene calls after us in a singsong voice. "We still love you even if you''re a neeerrrrd!"


    "Shut up shut up shut up!"


    I allow myself to be dragged along, watching the whole exchange with obligate silence. Though honestly, I think that if I still had eyes I would be on the verge of crying. There''s something deeply depressing about that whole exchange. About the clear and obvious love, trust, and affection these women have for each other. Melpomene is, knowingly and willingly, my slaver. She is therefore, by all reasonable definitions, evil to one of the highest degrees a person can be.


    Yet she loves and is loved, and I never have been.


    There are people I care a lot about. Bean especially comes to mind, but when I think of Bean all I think of is a little icon on a screen, not a human being. They''re my best friend, but I''ve never seen what they look like in real life. I''ve never met them. I''ve never hugged them. I''ve never been invited in to talk while they''re having a bath because we''re so close that sort of intimacy is given freely. Our relationship is the opposite, really; our own self-hate stops us from so much as sending a picture of ourselves to each other. Our fear and our personal issues close us off as much as they tie us together.


    These people put more care for each other in that one casual conversation than I''m used to seeing anywhere in my entire life. The first thing Thea did when she found out I had a soul was to take me to Melpomene. She trusts Melpomene, and I''m not sure I can actually say that trust is unfounded. Melpomene clearly trusts Thea, after all. She practically gave me to Thea, seeming entirely confident that Thea could do whatever Melpomene asked of her. I''m jealous of that, too. Nobody has ever been confident that I could do much of anything.


    Not until now, I guess.


    "Oh! Actually, you can nod and shake your head, right?" Thea asks, and I nod. "Oh, cool! Hmm, that''s really interesting. I wonder if you can write yes and no. If you can, then it''s probably a limiter on what you can communicate, which would be problematic. But if you can''t, then it''s probably just a limiter on how you can communicate, which means we might be able to get around it with something like sign language! Either way we should hopefully be able to figure out the really important stuff with twenty questions, like¡­ oh! Right, sorry, I''m stupid. I''ve been referring to you as female because you look like one, but I should ask, huh? Is that right? Are you a girl?"


    For a moment, I''m paralyzed by the fear of not being able to nod. Of not being able to say yes to that question. I almost don''t even want to try, just so I won''t have to fail. But I do it. I nod. I''m a girl. I''m not just a thing, I''m a girl!


    Of course, Thea gives me a big, relieved smile, because she never thought of me as ''just'' a thing in the first place. Not when she thought I was a baby AI, and not when she thought I was less than even that. She''s probably nicer to stuffed animals than most people are to other human beings, least of all me.


    "Okay!" Thea confirms happily. "Do you have a name?"


    Yes, yes I do! I feel a twinge of discomfort about confirming it, but it''s fine. I can say yes. Weapons can have names. I nod again.


    "Huh! Okay. I''ll set up something to help us narrow it down letter by letter. Until then you can just like, poke me or something if I call you something you don''t like. I might have a habit of, uh, nicknaming things. Like, a bunch."


    I just stare at her, something ephemeral fluttering in my chest. I can''t respond, but for a moment I don''t feel the need to, just happy to have someone who cares. Then I remember I''m still chained, still a slave to a woman who physically assaulted me for telling her the truth, and the creeping despair returns. Still, this is¡­ better than the worst-case scenario. I''m not just a weapon, not anymore. I have someone to talk to. Er, well, someone who talks at me, anyway, but that''s how most conversations people have with me go so whatever.


    "Don''t you worry about a thing, Arty!" Thea grins. "I''ll get you fixed up in no time! There''s nobody who knows more about Antipathy tech than me! Er, except the Preservers probably, but we obviously can''t ask them. If they got their hands on you they''d teleport you to another dimension."


    They''d what!? Also, don''t call me Arty. I poke her in the cheek.


    "Oh! Haha. Okay, no Arty. Um¡­ Robot girl?"


    I could do without the reminder. Poke.


    "Battlebot!"


    That''s worse. Big poke.


    "Blarg! Okay, not that. Um¡­ A-R-T-One?"


    Ehh. No. Poke.


    "Geez! You''re picky about names!"


    I think I have earned the right. If you don''t like it, then think of better names.


    By the time we make it back to her workshop, Thea does not, in fact, think of any better names, and from that point on she mostly stops trying because she''s very busy rummaging around inside my chest and doing a bunch of tests I don''t understand. I mostly just lie there and follow orders, but the orders don''t chafe anywhere near as badly from her. She''s trying to help me, after all, and I definitely need the help. If doing whatever she says is what I need, then I''m happy to.


    Thea jabbers away the whole time she works, and though I can''t respond and don''t understand any of the technical stuff, she certainly doesn''t seem to care. She talks to her tools a bit too, and I''m pretty sure none of those have souls, so I guess she''s just used to being alone. Most of the time she talks, though, she''s talking to me, and I think she''s enjoying it. It helps pass the time, if nothing else, and before I know it, nighttime is here.


    Not that I can tell what time of day it is in the freaking dark world, of course. I just assume it''s nighttime because Thea passes out with her head resting on the operating table. (Work table? Whatever. It''s the table I''m lying on with my tits removed.) I''m¡­ not really sure what to do now, actually. Do I just lie here until she wakes up? I certainly could, but¡­ well.


    I feel like both she and Melpomene would appreciate it if I took her somewhere nicer to sleep.


    I get up and reattach my own chestplate (which is a weirdly surreal experience) before slipping off the table next to where Thea is sitting. She has¡­ well, not quite a bed, but a messy nest of blankets in the corner, so after a bit of hesitation I carefully pick her up and set her down there, pulling one of the blankets up over her shoulders.


    Now what, though? I don''t personally need to sleep; I get the impression that occasional reboots might be good for my mental integrity, but on a scale closer to once a month than once a day. I can enter the ''sleep mode'' I used to pass the time back when I was returning to the castle, but it''s not required or even particularly power-efficient; because I run off of my own emotions, I actually charge my battery by being conscious, as long as I''m sufficiently stimulated. I don''t really have anything stimulating to do, though, so¡­ alright. Sleep mode it is. I sit down, and¡­


    ¡­


    The door to Thea''s room opens slowly, and I instantly become awake and aware. Over two hours have passed. Gleaming golden eyes stare at me from the hallway, slitted like a cat''s. I stand and start to prepare for combat, but then the owner of the eyes slips into the room, a wide grin on her face as her tail twitches behind her.


    "You''re that robot thing, right?" Anath whispers, and the many crystals jutting out of her body start to glow a dull yellow in the dark. "Do you know how to get to Earth?"


    I¡­ do I? Assuming the patterns in my readings stay the same I do. I nod.


    "Sick," Anath says, somehow grinning even wider. "Take me there. And don''t wake anyone else up. We''re going on a supply run."


    Well. I have been ordered to obey Anath, so¡­ I guess I''m going on a supply run.

 6. Letting Loose

    "So you can''t talk, huh?" Anath asks, her tail flicking back and forth behind her with what I''m pretty sure is excitement. "That''s cool. Most people talk too much."


    I glance back at her, trying to convey my best impression of ''are you fucking serious?'' despite my completely immobile face. She doesn''t seem to notice or care, but I get the impression that might have been the case even if I could have glared at her. She''s playing with the strap of the bulky yet nearly empty backpack she''s wearing, something I''m also wearing since our ''supply run'' naturally involves bringing a lot of things from Earth back to the castle.


    Wishing I could sigh, I look away again and push open the doors to the castle, licks of black mist rushing into the entryway as I slip out. Anath follows me, taking a deep breath of the darkness and letting it out with satisfied slowness.


    "Aw, this is great. I''m so fuckin'' smart for thinking of this. We''re gonna have an awesome time on Earth, you just wait. What time is it over there?"


    I try to shrug, find that I am still restricted to just nodding or shaking my head, and decide that instead of answering I should just follow her orders and get this over with. I grab Anath''s hand and start pulling her into the fog.


    "Oh!" she chuckles. "Okay, cool, alright. Let''s roll!"


    And so we roll, figuratively speaking, following my readings as I track the vector of fog swirling around us, matching it with the mana density readings I used as well. Anath hums a song I don''t recognize as we walk, swaying back and forth slightly as I drag her along. Soon enough, though, we find it: the thick wall of fully opaque fog that seems to separate Earth from the Dark World. It flutters slightly towards us, the wisps of blackness waving in our direction like the Dark World itself is inhaling while we stand in its throat.


    "Oh shit, we''re really here!" Anath perks up. "Damn, how do you and Mel do that? I never figured out how to find these things after the miasma got too thick to see though."


    That''s not a yes or no question, so instead of answering I just go ahead and pull her through. Anath looks up and grins at the sky, her fur rippling as it briefly stands up on needle points on a bit of her at a time, moving from her head down to the tip of her tail.


    "Man, the liminal spaces are always so quiet. I love ''em. Come on, let''s get to Earth proper."


    If you like the quiet so much, how come you aren''t shutting up? Also: Earth proper? Does this place not count as Earth? It certainly looks like Earth, what with the brick buildings and two-lane roads and general ''this is a city in America'' aesthetic. I couldn''t tell you which city, but that hardly means much; I haven''t explored most of the area I live in, let alone most cities in general. Though the more I look around, the more something nags at me.


    This¡­ is a city, right?


    Yes, my mind insists, it is. Obviously. There''s certainly nothing about it that indicates it could be anything other than a city. Specifically, it reminds me of those deep spots in a city, the connecting roads between major thoroughfares where the buildings hide their ugly, unadorned sides, only interested in putting on a pretty face for the main streets. You can get lost so easily in places like this, nothing but brick, concrete, and asphalt, a maze of alleyways and dumpsters broken only by featureless doors that lead to god knows where. It feels, I realize, fundamentally like the part of a city that could be any city at all.


    Maybe it actually is.


    "What''s up, bot?" Anath says, shoving me lightly on the shoulder. "Don''t know where to go from here? No worries, I can lead now. Come on!"


    She scampers off, literally getting down on all fours and leaping across the ground like a squirrel. I am of course forced to follow and keep pace with her, my heavy footsteps thunking against the ground with a concerning amount of force. Is¡­ is this the first time I''ve ran since becoming a robot? I think it is, outside of a couple quick movements during my fight.


    ¡­Oh, right. My fight. My power reserves tick up a few fractions of a percentage as I remember how I am now an obligate child abuser. It''s a really cool thing that I love having permanently burned into my fancy new crystalline memory core forever. Oh also can we talk about how I don''t have a brain anymore? Oh, right. No we can''t. Because I can''t talk.


    I clench my fists a little harder as I run after Anath, thankful that I can at least do that much now. I already feel like I''m settling into my new reality a bit, the shock and horror of all the fucked up and impossible things that happened to me over the past twenty-four hours kinda evening out inside my mind. It''s just like¡­ oh, is this my new normal now? Alright, noted. I''m sure I probably deserve it or whatever, now let''s get on with the standardized doses of depression.


    Y''know, come to think of it, my brain kinda sucked ass. A real uncooperative piece of shit. Do I actually have a good reason to be upset about losing it? I mean sure, there''s like, the existential dread of continuity of consciousness and whatnot, but also Thea and the others pretty much outright said that souls are real and I have one, so that might not even be an issue. Hmm. Something to think about later, I think.


    The sky is getting slightly brighter, and as it does I start to understand more of why Anath calls this a ''liminal space.'' It''s not the Dark World, not in any real way, but it can''t be Earth either, simply because no Earth city is this¡­ uniform. These unmarked buildings seem to continue forever in every direction, the streets devoid of cars and the sidewalks devoid of people. Every so often I''ll barely spot a monster as it scampers away from us, presumably hiding from Anath, and even more rarely we''ll pass by a corpse, most of which have long since been picked to bones. As it becomes easier to see I spot the occasional bird as well, and even a single raccoon, but they act erratic and twitchy, almost like they''re sick.


    And eventually, a few blocks in front of us, I start to see something actually recognizable. This impossible platonic concept of a city street we''ve been running down finally transitions into a real street, with cars abandoned during the evacuation and storefronts with actual names of real businesses on them. The threshold between the two isn''t visible or crowded with fog like the threshold between the liminal space and the Dark World, so it''s a little difficult to tell where exactly it is, but my sensors understand the moment I step through that I am Somewhere Else now.


    The background mana levels plummet from ''dramatically below Dark World levels'' to ''basically nil'' while the radio communication bands go from ''little tickles in the back of my head'' to ''everything, everywhere, all of the time.'' I spasm, loud rushes of data burrowing into my brain and demanding investigation despite the fact that I can''t understand any of it. My mind runs through every transmission protocol and decryption key it has available to it, the vast majority of them failing to match any of the signals I''m receiving. The main exception are the radio waves that can be comprehensibly converted directly to sound, which of course floods my mind with halting and restarting threads of music and advertisements and talk shows and endless useless garbage drowning out my thoughts¡ª


    Why am I panicking? I am built to have solutions to these problems. Increasing base clock speed in response to larger priority thread count. Offloading decryption and data interpretation efforts to secondary processors. Designating public radio channels as minimal priority barring keyword detection: Anath, Dark World, Magic, Magical Girl, Melpomene, Monster, Nanaya, Thea. Increasing base emotional siphon to compensate for power expenditure.


    ¡ªbut then it thankfully starts to fade away as I reallocate my mental resources more appropriately. The entire experience only takes about a second, though come to think of it I''m not sure how exactly I know how long a second is. I''ll need to find a clock and record a reference so I can make sure I''m keeping Earth time properly.


    "You okay, roboto?" Anath blinks at me, having stopped when she heard me seize up and nearly trip. I give her a nod and she grins, rubbing her hands together. "Awesome! Alright, let''s find a gas station or something to loot."


    She leaps onto the wall of a nearby building and scrambles straight up it, her crystalline claws easily finding divots in the brickwork to act as sufficient holds. A quick calculation confirms I''d only cause property damage if I try to repeat the trick, so I deploy my ventral limb thrusters and just leap clean onto the roof, calculating the thrust so I clear the top of the building right at the exact apex of the jump, stepping up onto it rather than falling down on top of it and risking damage to my landing zone.


    A flutter of something like awe or pride kindles inside me for a moment, left to linger unexpectedly long since I''m poorly configured to burn positivity. That was¡­ kinda cool. I looked up, felt the math click into my head, and acted. My usual lack of self-confidence was removed from the equation, because I knew what would happen the moment I locked in the numbers. Hard numbers, numbers I could go back and check again to confirm the calculations if I wanted to, but why bother? I was the one who did the math in the first place. It was as easy as wiggling my toes.


    "Yooo, you have rocket boosters? That''s fuckin'' sick," Anath says, finishing her run up to the roof next to me. "Alright, lessee here¡­"


    She looks out in the distance, but I''ve already spotted a couple gas stations so I point at the closest one for her.


    "Oh, good eye, yeah!" Anath says, wiggling up and down a bit. "Let''s go before any humans loot it!"


    I nod and hop off the roof, landing on the asphalt of the road since it can handle the impact of me falling two stories a lot better than the concrete of the sidewalk. Yeah, sure, let''s go out-loot those dastardly humans or whatever. I have to do this no matter what, so I may as well go with the flow.


    Though it got noticeably brighter outside now that we are no longer in the Dark World (who would have guessed, right?) it''s not due to the sun, but rather the moon, the stars, and most noticeably the street lights, which for some reason I only just now realize were absent from the liminal space. There''s the tiniest glow to the east, indicating the eventual incoming of sunrise, but for now it is still firmly nighttime here on Earth.


    Anath leaps down next to me and once again starts scampering off, leading the way to our destination. As it happens, though, we aren''t the first to get there: once the gas station enters our line of sight, I can see that the glass doors have been shattered and there are two human men inside the station, presumably trying to rapidly clear the place of anything valuable. Even if Anath hadn''t mentioned looters, I wouldn''t be super surprised; police don''t respond to automated alarms in evacuation zones¡ªwhy would they, when it''s far more likely to be a swarm of monsters than anything that they''re actually qualified to handle¡ªand this close to an entry point to the Dark World would absolutely be an evacuation zone. Still, looting seems like a pretty fucking risky occupation: you might not run into the law, but that''s only because you''re likely to run into the things that make the area lawless.


    "Hey, fuckers! What are you doin'' with my future stuff!?"


    Case in point.


    Anath bursts into a sprint and I rush after her as best I can, wanting to keep pace in hopes that I can stop her from murdering anyone. The men look up in confusion at first, since a humanoid voice isn''t exactly an ''oh shit run'' situation in an evacuation zone, but they quickly revise that assessment once they spot Anath and me sprinting straight at them. Unfortunately, I doubt it''s physically possible for the poor humans to escape us, so I deploy and burn my rearward thrusters a little to beat Anath to them, crashing through the window and sliding to a stop just close enough to snatch the collar of one guy''s shirt and cutting off the escape of the other.


    "Fuck yeah, botbutt! Nice catch!" Anath says, hopping into the building through the hole I made in the side, glass continuing to tinkle to the ground around us. "Gimmie all your crap, losers! Gimmie gimmie!"


    She claps her hands together and then holds her palms out like she''s trying to get a dog to come to her, but the men mostly stare in terror so I just steal the bag they were stuffing things into and toss it to Anath, who gladly accepts it. She pulls the cash out, stuffs it into her backpack, and then discards the rest of the bag, shuffling towards a rack of Jalape?o Cheetos and dumping the entire thing in after them before making her way towards the Gatorade.


    "You!" she says, pointing at the dude I''m not holding without looking at him. "Tell me your phone password and give it to me. Bring it here."


    The man doesn''t move, just staring at her in terror.


    "I said GIVE IT!" Anath roars, and my mana sensors blare a warning in my head for a moment before everything suddenly gets heavier¡ªmy body, the man I''m holding, even the food on the shelves starts crunching down and deforming under the sudden pressure. My body handles it easily, and I quickly adjust my grip on the man I''m holding, carefully setting him down without letting him hurt himself. The other man, however, is violently forced to his knees. He cries out in pain, but I don''t see or hear any sign of his bones breaking, and after a brief struggle he manages to get a shaky hand into his pocket to grab his phone, holding it out towards Anath.


    The pressure in the room returns to normal, Anath''s grin blooming back on her face as she snatches the phone from his hands. He tells her the PIN, and after successfully unlocking it she smiles even wider and starts wandering towards the exit to the gas station, poking away at the phone. I guess that''s our cue to leave, so I let the guy I was holding go and follow after her.


    If I still had a heart, it would be beating a mile a minute right now. I definitely mark terrorizing a pair of looters as way, way less fucked up than beating up a trio of children, but I still don''t exactly feel like the good guy here.


    "Good girl, Buttbot!" Anath says, awkwardly smacking the back of my head. "You''re kinda awesome!"


    Please stop calling me Buttbot.


    "Oooh! We''re not too far!" Anath beams, staring at what appears to be Google Maps. "Heck yeah! I hope Jim is there! I haven''t seen him in forever!"


    Anath takes a moment to dump everything in her backpack into my backpack before sprinting off, heading further away from the Dark World and towards whatever place she plugged into the map app. We run a while, but soon enough we pass the cheap little roadblock fences that mark off the edge of the evacuation zone. Dark World pockets are always moving, so it tends to be a bit of a scramble marking off and getting people out of dangerous areas, but the pockets themselves generally aren''t very large, usually hovering close to a mile in diameter. About sixty percent of the pockets don''t disgorge monsters at all, around thirty-five percent of them only vomit up a couple, around four percent send swarms at us, and then of course we have the one percent that barfs up a kaiju.


    The smartest, safest thing to do would probably be to evacuate everyone for miles in every direction whenever we start to notice a Dark World portal opening up, and for a while we did. But these monster attacks have been happening for over a decade and a half now, and while the government likes to puff itself up about efficient, effective safety measures, the reality of the situation is that frequent major evacuations for unknown time periods just aren''t economically and logistically viable. The rich people don''t like losing so many labor hours over something as measly as safety, and the poor people don''t like getting kicked out of their homes and finding themselves with nowhere else to go, so evacuation zones have been continually minimized in size and scope.


    So yeah. Dark World pockets (or maybe liminal space pockets are more accurate, I guess I need to look into that) are barely a mile across, evacuations happen there and another half-mile to a mile in every direction, and that''s about it. Do people on the edge of the evacuation zone risk getting attacked by monsters? Yes, absolutely. A small town is usually not going to have any local magical girls; a big city probably caps out at six or seven. The magical girls will go to where the convergences are, but they can''t (and don''t) catch everything before it gets into civilian areas. Still, as the sunrise draws ever closer and the town wakes up around us, we start to see people up and about, starting their day despite being barely a couple miles away from a monster-spawning pit of extradimensional poison.


    Of course, they see us as easily as we see them, and they''re at least all smart enough to run the heck away. It''s¡­ uncanny, and a bit disturbing. My processor speeds up just the slightest bit whenever I see someone new, taking a moment in seemingly slowed time to record the person in my memory, assess threat levels, judge optimal outcomes, and plan the fastest way to subdue or kill them if necessary.


    There''s a woman on her morning jog, wearing a sports bra and yoga pants. In an instant, I know her body''s average surface temperature (ninety-four point six degrees Fahrenheit, which is obviously also four hundred and thirty-eight point four degrees Pyulor), her velocity and momentum (five point six miles per hour, fourteen degrees clockwise relative to my velocity; I know a few weird alien velocity units too but I''m really only using Pyulor for spite), her current mana production (comically low but still well within sapient ranges; she is legally a person), her current magical-cardinal orientation (west-southwest; by my data gathering so far this is mostly fear with a tinge of something adjacent to it, or what the monster crew would call ''green mana'') and her body''s estimated force tolerances (I could rip her open like a wet tissue, but breaking her neck would be more efficient and much less messy). All of this data and much, much more is saved to an automatically-created human information table so as to better determine whereabouts these values can be expected to fall for the average human in order to reduce processing time and improve estimation reliability when encountering a new individual of the species.


    It''s frightening, in part because it feels like I''ve already done it a thousand times. Like everything in my new body, the experience is alien but I''m still the one doing it. The only part of it that feels like something taking over and doing something without my direct input is the part of my mind that pings me to say ''hey, this is possible!'' It''s still me that goes ''yeah, okay, I''ll do that then.'' Because why wouldn''t I? Having a spreadsheet with ease-of-murdering data is pretty creepy, I''ll admit, but there''s literally no other reason to not record the data, and having it on hand could potentially be helpful someday. It''s weird shit to know, sure, but it''s always better to know something than to not know something, no matter how uncomfortable.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Knowing stuff is good and cool. Give me uncomfortable truths over blissful ignorance any day. I might regret that temporarily when the uncomfortable truths in question rear their ugly heads, but that''s okay. Discomfort passes, yet knowledge stays.


    Well, we''ve terrified everyone around us and likely had multiple emergency hotlines called on our asses, but nothing has tried to stop us so it isn''t long before Anath''s stolen phone chirps out "your destination is on the right." Hmmm. If I figure out how to decrypt all this radio traffic, I wonder if I could just browse the internet with my mind? On one hand that would be pretty sick, though on the other hand I''d be permanently distracted by random bullshit from now until the end of time. Though¡­ on the other other hand, my brain is a supercomputer so I can probably be ''distracted'' by like twenty things and still be able to function. Oh my god I have ultra-omega ADHD. I''m like the goddess of Adderall.


    Man, eating my own sadness for power sure helps me stay in a decent mood, huh?


    Anyway, the store we ultimately arrive at now that the sun has crested the horizon is a place called Fuzzy Friends Forever, which I can only assume is a pet store. Sure enough, as we get close enough to see through the windows I spot multiple pens, cages, and enclosures for everything from cats to dogs to birds to lizards. There''s also a twenty-something-year-old guy in a colorful uniform walking around and feeding all of them, one by one.


    Anath tries the door, finds that it is locked, and unlocks it permanently.


    "Jim!" she shouts excitedly. "Hey!"


    "Wh¡ªoh god it''s you."


    "IT''S MEEEEE!!!"


    Anath raises her arms up into the air and runs excitedly into the store as the employee guy¡ªJim, presumably¡ªfreezes like a deer in front of an oncoming train: well aware that he needs to run yet completely unable to move his legs. Anath hops right up to him, grabs the bars of the cage he''s standing closest to, and rips them clean off their hinges.


    "Kehehehe! Be free, little ones!" Anath cackles. "Hi Jim! How have you been? I haven''t seen you in forever!"


    The poor man, whose name tag does indeed read ''Jim,'' starts glancing all over the place in a terror not unlike that of the cat Anath just freed.


    "U-uh, y''know, just¡­ doing my job. Or trying to?"


    "Haha! Yeah!" Anath agrees, ripping apart another cat cage and shattering the glass of a lizard enclosure. "I''m back on Earth!"


    "I¡­ y-yeah, you sure are," Jim agrees. "You seem, uh¡­"


    "Energetic!?" Anath grins widely, stepping into the puppy pen and tossing the fencing away. "I super am!!! Don''t worry, I''m not high, Nanaya''s a big meanie and won''t let me have fun weed, she only lets me eat the stuff that puts me to sleep."


    "Oh, uh. Okay."


    It is at this point that I decide to step forward and grab Jim, gently pulling him away from Anath''s current rampage so he''s less likely to get hurt. He stiffens like a statue but largely takes it in stride, as if being manhandled by a robot is an expected outcome of this visit. I guess the two of them know each other already, though it seems somewhat unwilling in Jim''s case.


    "Freedom! Freedom!!! Ahahahaha! They will never cage you again!"


    Jim stares at all the little animals scampering desperately away from her with the indisputable knowledge that he is going to have to personally catch and cage them all again.


    "...Um, A-Anath, right?" Jim says, clearing his throat.


    "You remembered!" Anath gasps excitedly, her slitted eyes zeroing in on him and making him flinch.


    "Yeah. Uh. Are you alright?"


    "Aww!" Anath coos. "You care! You''re my second-favorite human, Jimmy! And¡­ yeah, I''m fine."


    She pauses her rampage, seeming to stare at nothing for a moment before giggling to herself.


    "Just havin'' a manic day, I guess," she grins at him. "I guess I don''t normally smash¡­ quite as much stuff. Sorry, but also kinda not sorry! Regretting things is for tomorrow. Hey, can you make Fulgora show up? You can, right? You''re her boyfriend or something?"


    "Uh."


    "You''re not? Well, whatever, she always shows up when I mess with you. I''m gonna beat her up."


    She punches through a snake enclosure and grabs the poor reptile inside it, giving it a kiss.


    "Yes I am! Yes I am!" she baby-talks at it. "I''m gonna bite her fucking throat out! I''m going to soak my fur in her goddamn blood!"


    The yellow crystals on her body start to glow, my sensors picking up strong north and northwest mana. I step between Jim and Anath, just in case something dangerous ends up heading his way.


    "U-uh¡­ I can''t¡­ I''m sorry, I can''t really call her¡­" Jim says nervously.


    "It''s fine," Anath grins, not looking at us at all. "She''ll come."


    "Okay. Uh. What''s with the robot, by the way?"


    "Huh?" Anath blinks. "Oh, Robutt? I dunno, it''s just some dumb artifact Mel picked up."


    Hey! Robutt is not better than Buttbot! Jim steps carefully away from me when Anath calls me an artifact, though, which is frankly the first helpful survival instinct I''ve seen from him since we showed up. I guess Anath has come by here before enough that Jim, while still terrified, doesn''t actually think she''s a threat to his life.


    Which is¡­ interesting to note, actually. Relieving. I was afraid of getting my hopes up before, but the signs are all looking good here: the way Melpomene and Thea reacted to that human corpse, the way Anath has avoided hurting anyone thus far, the way I was ordered specifically to ''deter'' the girl coming after us¡­ it''s clear. The monsters I''m with care about human lives.


    By default, I can assume it will make Melpomene happy if I don''t hurt anyone too badly. I''m not the sort of weapon that gets used for mindless slaughter.


    ¡­I''m merely a tool for enforcing her will via violence. Which I guess isn''t that much better, but I don''t want to kill anyone and I was pretty damn scared about having to perform or enable murder. It''s particularly relevant right the fuck now, what with Anath down on all fours, playing with a puppy while she giggles happily about cutting open a ''Preserver-loving dead woman,'' because while Anath can order me around, that is only because Melpomene said so. And while I don''t know for sure that Melpomene wouldn''t want me to let Anath gut someone in the street, I think it''s a reasonable enough assumption that she''d rather me do damage control. Therefore, I can.


    The walls of my cell are ironclad: I cannot, under any circumstances, knowingly go against Melpomene''s wishes. And while that ''knowingly'' bit might sound like a loophole to someone with extremely misconceived notions about how the human mind works, it is in fact the loophole-crusher to end all loophole-crushers, because I literally, physically cannot even so much as try to plot against her. My own mind is the cage trapping me here, and the mere act of trying to loosen the bars only makes them tighter. I can''t just look at evidence however I want to; I have to be genuinely, reasonably sure, and simply knowing that makes my stupid mind try to look at things as objectively as I''m able.


    However. However. There''s one nice little perk here. I don''t think it''s coming into play right now, because I literally have zero evidence to support the idea that Melpomene would want someone on Earth dead, but it''s a convenient little thing. My mind is¡­ bigger now, and way more complex, but I still feel more or less like me. And human minds have this wonderful little set of biases that make any evidence supporting their preferred theory seem a little better, and any evidence against their preferred theory seem a little worse. So as long as I don''t overthink myself into task paralysis (a tall order to be sure, but still) I should, on average, get to do things my way more often than not. Right? Right.


    Look at me cope, aren''t I cute?


    "Get away from him!"


    A shout returns my attention to the front of the store, where standing outside the shattered window is a young woman¡ªprobably an adult, if just barely¡ªin military gear, complete with combat boots and a tactical vest, wisps of brown hair leaking out from behind her helmet. A quick sweep of my sensors confirms she has a handgun, but it also confirms that this lady has magical strength out the ass, with most of it centered in a suspiciously gem-shaped cluster underneath her vest. A magical girl, then, and judging by her power she''s already transformed.


    She''s also pissed. Though her outfit mostly looks like she put it on in army camp, there are signs of it being her magically-constructed magical girl uniform outside of the magical energy infusing it. Her helmet and gloves are crimson red, and she holds a dark red bo staff, currently thrust outward to point at Anath and me. She is not, I notice, holding her gun. Just the staff. Best I can tell, it''s because the gun is real¡ªwhich is to say made from actual matter and not magical girl bullshit¡ªand therefore isn''t some kind of magically imbued tool of destruction. Judging by my readings and the look on her face, I don''t think she''s choosing the staff as the less lethal option between the two¡­ though my calculations are only guessing about how much force a bullet packs, so I''m going to take that with a grain of salt until I see the gun actually fire.


    "Fulgora!" Anath says excitedly, popping up from where she was playing. "Yes! You made it!"


    "I said get away from him!" she demands, settling into a fighting stance. "Now!"


    "With pleasure," Anath agrees, licking her lips. "After all, I''m here for you."


    She moves, rushing straight at Fulgora in an instant. Fulgora swings her staff to intercept, but Anath jumps, grabbing the tip of Fulgora''s weapon and using it to help aim a full-body dropkick at Fulgora''s face. The magical girl barely moves her head in time, Anath''s ankles brushing against a strand of hair that freed itself from her helmet, and the follow-up swing of her staff catches Anath right in the spine. A crack of thunder seems to explode outward at the moment of impact, smashing Anath hard enough into the sidewalk to blast shattered concrete in every direction. I step in front of Jim and catch a chunk that might have hit one of the animals.


    "Oh god," Jim breathes. "Thank you?"


    Dude, what the fuck are you still doing here? I point at the rear entrance.


    "O-oh! Right!" Jim jolts, turning to run as Anath sweeps Fulgora''s legs as she gets up, which would have tripped the magical girl if she hadn''t turned her momentum into a pole vault, briefly pulling out her gun to fire two quick shots at Anath before landing. Anath dodges the first and deflects the second with one of the huge crystals growing out of her forearms, which pretty much confirms it: the gun packs way less energy than the lightning bolt one of the baby magical girls hit me with, and definitely less than the blow Anath took from the staff. It''s far from negligible, though; I bet an automatic weapon could chew through my energy reserves pretty fast if I just stood there and took it.


    "Don''t let him leave, Robutt!" Anath shouts at me. "I want her motivated."


    Well. Fuck. Okay. Sorry, Jim. I grab him before he can actually get anywhere. He looks at me with an amazingly pathetic face. Sorry, man. I literally gotta do it to ya. How can I not be mean about this¡­ ah, I know. I gesture to the various free and terrified animals rushing about the store, and let go of him again. As long as he doesn''t leave, he can do whatever.


    "No!" Fulgora shouts, rushing towards me. "Don''t you dare¡ª"


    She''s cut off by Anath''s claws slashing her cheek open.


    "If you don''t pay attention to me," Anath growls, "you''ll die."


    "Damn it!" Fulgora swears, swinging her staff to knock Anath''s next strike away with a thunderous bang. "L???????? A??!"


    Magic circles appear around Fulgora''s wrists and her staff suddenly jerks in a different direction mid-swing, smashing into Anath before she can recover from the parry and knocking her down the street like a baseball. Despite the name, I don''t actually see any lightning when she uses the attack, but a crack of thunder still announces the blow.


    Ignoring Anath''s warning, Fulgora risks a glance back at me. I consider just staring at her, as I am wont to do, but in hopes of reassuring her that Jim will be fine I give her a subtle nod. He''s busy wrangling animals, and therefore he is not leaving, so therefore I don''t have to do anything to him.


    "What¡­ is that?" Fulgora asks.


    "Who cares!?" Anath snaps, coughing a couple times as she stands up. "It''s just some artifact Melpomene found. Now fight me!"


    "What the hell do you think I''ve been doing!?" Fulgora growls.


    "Holding back."


    Anath leaps forward with an angry scream, and when Fulgora swings at her she catches the blow on her forearm blade. It glows yellow, and Fulgora staggers as if burdened by a sudden weight. Fulgora makes an upward swing anyway, but Anath sidesteps it and punches her in the face.


    "Fight me!" Anath yells. "Fight me!"


    "S??? F??s?!" Fulgora retorts, a bright shockwave freeing her from Anath''s spell, the glow lingering around her body. All at once, she starts to move faster, forgoing crushing blows that knock Anath around in order to maintain a constant, high-speed assault, battering her with hits that explode into shockwave bursts.


    "Yes!" Anath grins. "That''s more like it!"


    "Where did your queen get an artifact as large and complex as that?" Fulgora demands.


    "Kehehehe! My ''queen?'' Nobody calls her that unless they''re trying to fuck her!"


    Anath makes a wild swing at Fulgora''s head, to which Fulgora responds with a blow to her elbow that I''m pretty sure breaks Anath''s arm. It''s hard to tell, though, because while the joint goes limp Anath doesn''t slow down at all. She just lunges in even closer, sinking her teeth into Fulgora''s shoulder.


    Fulgora screams, grabbing onto Anath''s head and ripping it away before slamming it into the ground face-first. Anath''s whole body twitches, and Fulgora jumps away, one hand pressing on the deep red wound Anath left behind.


    Slowly, Anath starts to stand back up, the huge grin on her face revealing the faux-cloth of the magical girl''s raiment slowly disintegrating between her teeth. The flesh, however, remains in her mouth up until the moment she swallows it.


    "Mmm," Anath hums, her broken arm dangling limp. "Delicious, delicious rage."


    "What the fuck is the matter with you?" Fulgora demands. "Why do you keep doing this? I thought I was finally rid of you when I didn''t see you for a month."


    "Don''t worry, I''m not gonna leave you, Fulgora," Anath promises, crouching low.


    "What the hell do you want with me!?"


    Anath blinks.


    "This," she says. "I want this for you. You''re like me."


    "You''re insane if you think I''m anything like you," Fulgora growls. "Oh wait, I already knew you were insane."


    "Don''t call me insane," Anath growls, and she lunges back at Fulgora to continue the fight. Fulgora has to fight a lot more reservedly to avoid straining her shoulder too much, but Anath''s bite apparently didn''t go deep enough to prevent her from using her arm. Anath isn''t so lucky with her own injury, and gets constantly forced onto the defensive as a result.


    Still, she keeps smiling.


    "Don''t you feel it!?" Anath asks joyfully. "This is what we are. This is all we know how to do!"


    "Speak for yourself!" Fulgora snaps. "I didn''t run off to get infected by the Dark World''s madness! I have a life!"


    "This is your life!" Anath insists. "We''ve done nothing but fight since fourth grade!"


    "That''s just part of being a magical girl," Fulgora says simply.


    "But you''re special," Anath says. "You lived. And when you had the chance to walk away, you didn''t take it. You can''t stop, Fulgora. You don''t want to! You''d be perfect for our¡ª"


    Fulgora strikes Anath clean in the head, a deafening crack knocking her to the side and stunning her mid-sentence. Fulgora''s response to Anath''s offer, I think, is pretty short and to the point.


    "A?????????: H?????''s H?????."


    Warning alarms blare inside my head as Fulgora brings her staff down in an overhead arc, smashing it straight onto Anath''s skull. At the instant of impact, time seems to stop for a split second, the air itself glowing red before the power Fulgora unleashed explodes like a cannon, directed straight down. Anath crashes into the earth, the ground around her cracking like glass as who-knows-how-many bones in her body do the same.


    Shit. Melpomene definitely wouldn''t want Anath to be captured or killed. I was perfectly happy letting those two duke it out; I have no particular love for either of them, outside the fact that Fulgora is a magical girl, but she was winning anyway. Now that she has actually won, though, I have to step in.


    "You don''t know me, Anath," Fulgora says. "You didn''t back before you went insane, and you definitely don''t now."


    Anath takes in a ragged breath, managing to turn her head enough to glower up at the other girl.


    "I told you not to call me insane," she growls.


    "What the fuck else do you want me to call you?" Fulgora snarls. "You used to fight monsters. Now you are one, and you act like you did it to yourself on purpose! And now whenever you and your fellow traitors aren''t kidnapping people, stealing artifacts, or endangering countless lives causing more incursions, you''re here pissing me off and trying to play out your crazy masochistic fantasies! Can you seriously not see how badly you''ve been infected? The Antipathy stuck their hooks in you all the way from the grave, and you just let them!"


    "You don''t know anything about the Antipathy," Anath smirks.


    "Oh, and you do?" Fulgora fires back.


    "Nah, but the others do," Anath says. "I don''t really get it, but I know who I should trust and who I shouldn''t. You can do better."


    It is at this point that I make it in range for Fulgora to attack me, since I''m trying to get to Anath and Fulgora is standing right over her. She makes an immediate swing at me without even so much as acknowledging my presence beforehand, though with time moving so slow for me I duck it without too much trouble. Her missed attack just flows into another, one whose path I can already see is too quick and precise for me to dodge, I bring up my hand to try and catch the staff instead, snapping my fingers shut the moment it gets close enough to my palm. The staff feels like it explodes in my grip, thunder ringing through me, but something within me fights the influence and my fingers stay closed.


    My power reserves have been reduced to 31%. Very acceptable losses. Fulgora tries to yank her weapon out of my hand, but I don''t let her.


    "What is this thing?" Fulgora says, her eyes wide. I, of course, respond only by staring at her. This is a good start, but how do I get Anath out of here?


    "Hey," Anath growls. "I never told you to help."


    Sorry squirrely, you''re not my boss. Melpomene is.


    "You mad dog," Fulgora growls. "Is that all you care about?"


    "Alright, that''s enough," Anath scowls. "I told you to stop calling me crazy. I''m not crazy."


    "Oh yeah? What are you, then?" Fulgora demands. "Cuz you look pretty damn crazy to me."


    Anath¡­ stands up. Her broken body snaps and creaks as she strains an already-shattered skeleton, but she stands up. She''s no longer smiling.


    "I''m the monster that''s gonna destroy you both," she growls, her ears elongating into animalistic points as the gem on her choker begins to shine. "P????? W?????? P???? U?."

 7. Real Body

    ¡­The fuck you mean destroy us both!? What the hell did I do!?


    Fulgora freezes in apparent horror as power blooms inside the crystal on Anath''s choker, her clothes disintegrating and her body bursting into that familiar light as she activates what is unmistakably a magical girl transformation. Anath isn''t just getting a new outfit, though: her whole body shifts and twists in the light, growing ever more monstrous as she gathers ever more power.


    Her ears aren''t just getting longer; they''re moving up to the top of her head, shifting into something foxlike and triangular. Her tail, too, starts to split, twisting into two, four, eight more copies of itself, writhing in a fan pattern out of the base of her spine like a peacock''s feathers. Her legs, which had already been digitigrade before the transformation, elongate to further emphasize the second knee, forcing her to lean forward like a feral raptor to stay balanced. The crystals jutting from her body grow larger as well, especially the blades on her forearms, which go from sharp armguards to massive swords.


    Before, Anath looked like a fuzzy, spiky girl with a few extra bits. Now, Anath looks only like an animal. A werewolf from an old horror movie, devoid of any features that might spark empathy in a human rather than fear.


    And yet, the energy radiating off of her is joy.


    "R???s???? B??s? C??s?????? A????!" she howls, the light of her transformation shattering off her skin and fur, the shockwave pushing us back. I realize that, like Fulgora, I was just as frozen by the transformation, but not because the transformation somehow stopped me from acting. I guess it''s just a hell of a lot faster than it felt like because my mind is working in an accelerated state.


    "You¡­ you weren''t even transformed!?" Fulgora gapes, her body coiling into a defensive fighting stance. "That was your real body!?"


    "I''d argue that this is my real body," Anath says, her voice deeper and slightly slurred from her new face. All the damage she suffered fighting Fulgora before her transformation is nowhere to be seen now. "But yeah. Gifts from the Dark World."


    "Is the Dark World turning people into monsters!?" Fulgora demands to know, which¡­


    ¡­No, it isn''t. I figured as much the first time I had the thought but I can probably just confirm it. Some mental math agrees that it wouldn''t make sense; monsters can''t just be transformed humans. Based on what the news manages to catch alone, most magical girls kill what, a dozen monsters a week on average? And there are at least four magical girls in this city, five if you count the ''retired'' Castalia. If that many people were disappearing on a regular basis, there''s no way in hell anybody could cover it up. Our city already has kind of a high crime rate, and annually there are¡­ what, a few hundred violent crimes? As opposed to a few thousand monsters pouring out of the dark world, and that''s just the ones we publicly know about in this city. No, they have to come from somewhere else.


    But despite this, Anath just laughs.


    "You say that like it''s a bad thing," she smirks, and then she lunges.


    Holy shit. She''s way faster than she was before, and Fulgora barely manages to get her staff up in time to block a cut from Anath''s blades that looked like it was aimed to slice her in two. My body stutters as I try to step in and help Fulgora before remembering that I can''t fight Anath. I don''t have any orders to do so, and a weapon doesn''t wield itself against its own master''s allies.


    Fulgora shoves Anath away, but Anath twists in midair to strike the magical girl with the various sharp crystals jutting from her tails, forcing Fulgora to dodge. I watch as the two of them move through the air, following the paths my mind has already calculated them to travel through based on their momentum, but Anath''s arc breaks from my expectations, as if gravity stopped affecting her and an invisible force started accelerating her towards Fulgora. In moments Anath is back in her face, swinging wild, relentless attacks without regard for her own safety.


    Can Anath fly in this form? She didn''t move in the same way that flying magical girl with the lightning gun did, and she seems to be sticking to the ground. Maybe she''s just more comfortable fighting this way?


    "G??s? ?? ??? C???!" Anath shouts, grabbing onto Fulgora''s staff as she brings it up to block another strike. Magic circles bloom around Fulgora and she grunts in pain, the ground beneath her cracking as an invisible force seems to start crushing her on all sides.


    Is that it? Just force? Is Anath''s magic to straight up apply force to things? That feels¡­ direct. And somewhat underutilized.


    "Your turn!" Anath growls, whipping her head around to face me. Oh shit, right. Unfortunately, I don''t think I can defend myself. Avoidance it is, then. I dodge to the side as Anath leaps my way, keeping a much wider margin of error between the two of us than I used with Veritas. Anath presses her assault, but that''s more or less what I expected her to do so I''m already moving to circle around Fulgora to try and keep Anath''s focus on her instead of me.


    "Fight back, you piece of shit!" Anath roars at me, and time seems to stop, brand new sets of calculations swimming through my mind like minnows.


    Oh.


    Oh.


    Well. Melpomene likes you, Anath. She''d want you to be happy.


    And you fucking asked for this.


    I''m already jumping backwards to make distance, so I don''t have any points of contact with the ground to change my direction. Like Anath, though, I don''t need any. I deploy all of my rearward-facing thrusters and ignite them simultaneously, reversing my direction with a level of whiplash that would have shattered my spine and pulped my organs if I still had any of those things. I never knew how to throw a decent punch as a human, but my body doesn''t need martial arts training to understand how to maximize the damage of a collision. And sure, there are more powerful strikes than punches. Lots of them, really. But I was just ordered to fight someone that I don''t have any qualms about beating the shit out of, and I just really want to punch her in the goddamn face.


    The instant change in tactics catches Anath off guard, and I get to watch in delightful slow motion as her eyes widen and my knuckles crunch into her cheekbone. I send her flying down the street, bouncing off the asphalt three times before she finally reorients herself. I take the opportunity to vent some of the superheated magical energy that leaked out of my systems during my hardware acceleration, causing a burst of blue steam to hiss out from between my armor plates before I put my thrusters away.


    Fulgora, meanwhile, frees herself from the vise grip of Anath''s spell, immediately moving to make distance from me, a calculatingly wary look on her face. But despite the strength of my surprise attack, Anath lifts herself back onto her feet, spitting a sharp, bloody tooth onto the sidewalk.


    "That''s better," she grins at us, getting down on all fours and arching her back like a cat about to pounce. "P?ss??? S???!"


    "S???? B??????!" Fulgora shouts, thrusting out her hand and summoning a cloudy, shimmering shield in front of her. Anath smashes into it so quickly I''m not even sure I could have reacted, her crystalline claws digging into the magical force field and cracking it.


    "Come on, Fulgora!" Anath cackles. "Where''s your lightning!? You used to be better than this! Stronger!"


    I rush towards the two of them, but Anath headbutts Fulgora''s shield and shatters it. Fulgora recoils as if in pain and Anath takes the opportunity to kick her hard in the side of her gut, launching the magical girl towards me like a soccer ball. I can dodge Fulgora to press my attack, but I catch her anyway, jumping back as I do so in order to lessen the force of our impact.


    Fulgora, of course, immediately tries to break out of my arms, kicking off of me to launch herself up into the air as I let go. There''s a panic in her eyes as she focuses on Anath, adjusting the grip on her staff.


    "Bad move!" Anath declares gleefully, leaping directly at Fulgora''s position fast enough to make a collision basically inevitable. Even worse, Fulgora''s now holding the staff in a wide grip with both hands, pointing it directly at Anath as if she expects her to impale herself on it. But her staff doesn''t have a blade to impale someone with, and her grip has the other end so close to her eye that an impact would probably¡­ wait. No. She''s not holding it like a staff or a spear.


    She''s holding it like a rifle.


    "F???????? T??????!"


    A crack of magical lightning hits Anath dead-on, knocking her back down into the asphalt as it surges through her body. Anath screams, her body writhing on the ground from the aftershocks as Fulgora ceases to obey the laws of gravity, hovering up in the air and pointing her staff towards the sky. Staring down at Anath''s disabled form, she fires a shot straight up in the air, then another, then another, then another, the mana density of the surrounding area suddenly rising like crazy.


    "A?????????: H?????''s R????????."


    Oh, shit. I dash towards Anath, my orders now requiring me to protect her from what is almost certainly a finishing blow. I lean over to scoop her up off the ground as I get close, and then my processes accelerate as I see her claws swiping up to take my head off, rage on her face.


    Collision unavoidable. Shielding.


    Anath''s furious uppercut launches me into the air, cutting a full three percent off my power reserves as I get flung head-over-heels in the opposite direction moments before a bolt of lightning as wide as a lane on the highway crashes down, engulfing Anath completely and overloading half my sensor array for a few milliseconds. I have time to confirm her charred body is still raggedly breathing shortly before my body crashes into the ground, jolting my vision and forcing me to scramble back to my feet.


    Fulgora lands, not looking to be in particularly good shape herself. Anath''s transformation removed the wounds on her own body, but Fulgora''s injuries have only accumulated. Her shoulder still bleeds from where Anath bit it, and blood pours from her face where Anath''s claws raked through them. She''s breathing heavily and blinking with confused, glassy eyes, possibly struggling to think through the blood loss. But as she stares at Anath lying motionless on the floor, her jaw clenches and anger returns to her face. She walks forward, lifts her boot up, and stomps it down hard on Anath''s body, causing a crack of broken bones to ring out through the air.


    "Just."


    Stomp.


    "Fucking."


    Stomp.


    "Leave!"


    Stomp.


    "Me!"


    Stomp.


    "Alone!"


    O-oh. Right, I should be stopping this, shouldn''t I? Why am I just¡ª


    I''ve placed myself in power-saving mode. A near-complete lack of sadness and fear during this fight has caused me to primarily burn disgust (which itself was only available due to the emotions the blood and gore would have otherwise elicited in me without the burn) and surprise (which, for obvious reasons, was only available in brief moments). Neither was abundant enough to sustain power expenditure; my primary emotions during this fight were joy and desire, which only burned at five and fifteen percent efficiency, respectively.


    In essence, Anath is not a child, she''s an asshole I wanted to punch really bad. Therefore, the fight didn''t make me sad, and I''m down to 20% power. And like, y''know, that''s when my phone goes into power save mode so who am I to question the expert?


    ¡ªstanding here, I don''t need time acceleration holding my hand in order to obey my master''s will. I run forward to try and save Anath before Fulgora caves her skull in, but the next time her boot falls it doesn''t hit with a hard crack. There''s only a very soft sound as Anath''s hand whips up and catches Fulgora''s foot.


    The magical girl''s eyes go wide as Anath''s eyes open, flicking up towards Fulgora''s face. And though it''s a little hard to tell through all the blood, bruises, and swelling, I''m pretty sure she''s still smiling.


    "No," Anath says, yanking Fulgora off-balance as she rises upward with a fist, landing a strike to the gut that caves in her stomach and has her spewing vomit all over Anath''s back. Fulgora tries to stagger away, but Anath follows up with a roundhouse kick to her shoulder, sending Fulgora careening across the ground, her staff falling from her hands and disintegrating into motes of magical energy.


    "I could never leave you alone," Anath insists, a wild look in her eyes as she stalks towards Fulgora. "Never. You don''t know it yet, but you need this. You need it! Don''t you want to be happy again, Fulgora!?"


    Fulgora''s body shakes as she desperately tries to stand, but before she can get to her feet she doubles over, vomiting up blood. Still, her only response to Anath is a furious glower, the firmest rejection her body can currently muster.


    Anath growls and leaps forward, swinging her claws at Fulgora''s head, but once again I feel my mind accelerate in spite of my low power as I spot a completely unexpected movement at the top of my vision cone. What!? How did something get this close without my other sensors detecting it? I almost charge in to attack, but once I see the source of the movement I stop and just let whatever is about to happen, happen.


    A cloaked figure drops like a stone to land directly in front of Anath, legs flexing to absorb the impact with the ground near-silently. An arm whips out from underneath its clothes and catches Anath''s swing, red eyes gleaming furiously from behind a collar high enough to cover most of her face.


    "N-Nanaya!?" Anath yelps.


    "Anath," Nanaya growls. "What are you doing on Earth?"


    "I, uh¡­" Anath stammers, glancing around in every direction other than Nanaya''s glare. "Well I just thought, um, y''know, I should¡­ I''m testing the, uh¡­"


    Fulgora, collapsed directly behind where Nanaya landed, is frozen like a rabbit with a wolf walking by while this conversation happens without her. A second monster is standing directly in front of her while she barely survived the first. Of course, it''s hard to say how monstrous Nanaya looks underneath her cloak, and she''s not even acknowledging Fulgora''s existence, let alone trying to attack. But still¡­ the hand holding Anath in place has a thumb on both sides of the palm. Six fingers? No. Eight? Nine?


    "Anath," Nanaya says again. "Are you having a manic episode?"


    "Thea says I technically don''t have manic episodes because they don''t last long enough to¡ª"


    "Anath," Nanaya interrupts her. "Are you having a hypomanic episode?"


    "U-um," Anath shifts. "Yeah, I um. Yeah, probably."


    "And what are you supposed to do when you''re having an episode?"


    "S-stay with someone for my safety," Anath squeaks, her blood dripping quietly onto the road. "B-but I couldn''t sleep and you were asleep and¡ª"


    "Anath," Nanaya cuts her off again. "If you are struggling while everyone is asleep, please wake me up. I would be happy to stay awake with you."


    Anath shifts some more, staring at her feet.


    "...But then you would have told me not to go," Anath admits guiltily.


    Nanaya glares at her for a bit before she finally lets go of Anath''s wrist with a sigh. Holding her hand out towards Anath, a series of magic circles bloom to life around her arm as Nanaya frowns.


    "You have more broken ribs than intact ones," she says flatly. "Your left arm is completely shattered. You have multiple skull fractures. Most of your organs have some sort of severe trauma or another, nearly all of your skin is covered in burns, and multiple major blood vessels in your body have exploded from what I''m fairly sure is the result of very briefly becoming a series of high voltage electrical wires. You should not be breathing, let alone standing, and yet somehow I have the sneaking suspicion that you''re going to tell me ''it''s not that bad.''"


    "Wh¡ªit''s not!" Anath insists. "I feel fine."


    "Anath, if I don''t heal you, you are going to fucking die."


    "...But you always heal me."


    Nanaya sighs, reaching her lanky arm out to wrap around Anath and lift her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Anath yelps in a mix of surprise and pain, her token resistance ending almost immediately as it seems to make her remember that she is in pain. Then, for the first time, Nanaya looks over her shoulder and down at Fulgora, her red eyes glowing the tiniest amount in the morning light.


    "...I suggest you stand down," she says evenly.


    Fulgora swallows, and then in a quick flash of light she is replaced with what looks like a completely different girl, though their general shape and figure are pretty similar. Rather than full combat gear, she''s wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and a high school varsity jacket¡ªone that''s bulky enough to conceal the non-magical handgun she had on her person as Fulgora. The jacket reads ''Campbell'' on the back, and the general ''high school senior'' vibes she gives off from wearing it definitely match my best guess at her age. She''s wearing her brown hair in a short ponytail, the general shape of her face reminding me an awful lot of Jim, the poor pet shop guy. Geez, hopefully he got away. I wonder if he and Fulgora are related?


    Well. ''Fulgora'' likely isn''t her name when she looks like this.


    Nanaya turns to me next, and while she didn''t exactly start a conversation with Fulgora my orders are even more taciturn.


    "Come."


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    She leaps up onto the roof of a nearby building and I follow her, sparing one last look at the human who transforms into Fulgora. Interestingly, the injuries she sustained aren''t visible on her body anymore. She staggers to her feet looking like she''s in a lot of pain, but she''s not bleeding anywhere I can see and the fact that she can get to her feet at all clearly indicates a substantial improvement in health. We stare at each other until the moment I jump up onto the building with Nanaya, breaking of sight beyond the lip of the roof. As I leave, though, I hear Jim''s voice call out with concern.


    "Eliza! Are you okay!?"


    Eliza Campbell, then. Potentially good to know, though I guess I''m not really sure what for. It''s not like I can talk to her.


    "Owww," Anath groans as we leap from rooftop to rooftop, heading back towards where Anath and I exited the liminal space. "Nana, that hurts¡­"


    "Then shift out of your combat form before you die, moron," Nanaya answers flatly.


    "Nanaaaa, all of my forms are combat forms!"


    "For the love of¡­ Anath, did you fight untransformed? Did you get this injured in your real body?"


    "All my bodies are r¡ª"


    Nanaya sharply shrugs the shoulder Anath is balanced on, eliciting a yelp of pain to cut her off.


    "...Um. Well. I might have gotten injured," Anath hedges, coughing up a few specks of blood. "N-not as much though! Just a little."


    "Then shift and let me take a look at you!" Nanaya demands. "Honestly, how are you even still maintaining the integrity of your transformation?"


    "I just told y¡ªow!" Anath yelps as Nanaya drops her onto the roof. "Okay, okay!"


    The burst of light that heralds the end of Anath''s extra-monstrous form lasts a good bit longer than the flash that ended Eliza''s transformation, but otherwise the magic seems pretty much the same.


    "God damnit, Anath," Nanaya hisses, though it''s quieter and devoid of the usual vitriol. Instead it''s¡­ worried. "God damnit. You''re bleeding out."


    "Wha? No I''m not," Anath insists groggily. "If I was bleeding my fur would be all sticky and wet and stuff. Oh wait you mean like. On the inside. Yeagh I''m a lil sloshy."


    "Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it," Nanaya growls, magic circles flaring around her body and pouring energy into Anath. "I need to heal you. I''m putting you under so you don''t tear yourself apart anymore."


    "Are you cubdles to slebp?" Anath slurs incoherently, briefly trying to lift an arm towards Nanaya before she finishes drifting off into unconsciousness. With her spell still active, Nanaya''s eyes flick towards me.


    "You. Thing," she snaps. "You can fight? You follow orders?"


    I nod. That''s about the sum of me now, yeah.


    "You will allow no one to approach," Nanaya commands. "No one. Anath and I are not to be disturbed until I get her stable."


    Oh. Shit. Okay. I mean, we''re just on the roof of some random business maybe a few blocks away from an explosion-filled magical girl fight, but I''m sure we''ll be left alone for this whole emergency medical procedure. ¡­God, I hope I don''t have to hurt any more kids. Maybe we won''t be here long?


    "If you make us miss the only way back home, Anath, I am going to kill you," Nanaya hisses under her breath. "You''re going to trap us on Earth for a week at this rate."


    Oh. Well.


    At least my power reserves are filling back up again.


    - - -


    "Eliza! Are you okay!?"


    My heavy breaths stabbing phantom pains through my lungs, I turn towards my brother''s voice, spotting him running my way. My heart freezes in fear for a moment, but¡­ no. Not a scratch on him. Thank god.


    As soon as he gets close enough, I punch him in the shoulder.


    "Ow!" he says. "What the heck!?"


    "Don''t shout my name, idiot," I tell him. "I still have like¡­ half a secret identity."


    "Oh, r-right. Sorry," he says.


    "It''s fine. Just¡­ help me walk, will you?"


    He nods and I throw my arm over his shoulder, letting him carry some of my weight as we stagger back towards the fucked-up pet shop he works at. It''s weird; I know my body isn''t actually injured. I don''t have even a single bruise right now. But if I took up my mantle of Fulgora right now, all those injuries would still be there, and for some reason that means I can still feel the pain.


    It''s just pain, though. I''ll get used to it in a minute or two. Pain is more or less an old friend, as there are very few things that can hurt me in a way I can''t eventually heal. Advantages of magic.


    Fuck it hurts this time, though. I¡­ I really thought I was gonna die. It''s been a while since I''ve been in a fight like that. I never even knew Anath could¡­ I mean, I thought that monstrous body she had at first was her transformation. I never knew she just looked like that all the time. I¡­ I don''t know what that means. I didn''t even know that was possible.


    Like, obviously magic can transform people. Duh. I do it every few days on a good week. And I know transformations can be¡­ kind of drastic sometimes. But they''re not usually permanent. We transform to fight, and then afterwards we always transform back. How is it that the Dark Worlders are physically ceasing to be human in their base forms?


    Maybe Anath has more than one transformation. The thought pops up in my head unbidden, but I push it away immediately. No. Not thinking about it. Not right now.


    "Eliza?" Jim asks.


    "Huh?" I say, suddenly realizing that I''m inside one of the staff rooms of the destroyed pet shop, one that happens to be substantially less destroyed than the front area. Oh, there''s a chair for me to sit on. That''s nice. I collapse onto it as carefully as I can manage. "Thanks."


    "Yeah, of course," Jim nods. "Are you¡­ are you doing okay? That was pretty intense."


    "I''ll live," I sigh. "I think the big thing is learning that Anath has been sandbagging me for a year."


    "Oh. Yeah, that''s¡­ pretty terrifying."


    It is. It really is.


    "That''s not the problem," I snap. "It''s humiliating. I''ve let myself get weak. I have to do better than this, or people could be in danger."


    "You could be in danger," he says, as if I don''t know that.


    "I''m always in danger," I remind him. "I just got my bones snapped like you were making spaghetti. I''m pretty damn aware that I''m in danger."


    "Wait, are you really¡­? It doesn''t fit in the pot!"


    "Yes it does! Just put as much as you can in the water and it''ll soften in less than a minute. Then you can push it all in there."


    "Wouldn''t that cook it unevenly, though!?"


    "No! Not enough to matter!"


    "How does snapping it in half matter?"


    "It''s the length it is for a reason, Jim, you''re supposed to fuckin'' twirl it on the fork! You know this, I''ve told you this, it''s¡­ you''re doing this on purpose."


    My brother shrugs unrepentantly.


    "Maybe," he admits. I open my mouth to protest, but he presses his thumbs into the muscles on my neck and starts to make little circling motions to knead the tension out. It hurts, this pain being from my actual real body, but it shuts me right up. The whole backside of my body feels like it''s made of rocks, nothing but knots of stress and aches in the vague shape of a person. I really need this.


    "How are you so good at this?" I groan, closing my eyes and letting the delightfully pleasurable ache drown out the throbbing of my other body''s wounds.


    "I practice on the cats," he jokes. Probably.


    "When you finally nut up and get a girlfriend you are going to make her very happy," I tell him.


    "Says my forever single sister. When are you going to get a boyfriend?"


    "Eh, I''m probably gay," I grunt.


    "''Probably?''" he asks, raising an eyebrow.


    "We''re all fuckin'' gay, I swear to god," I groan. "Every time I meet a magical girl close to my age she has her face in a bush. I think the Preservers select for it. Maybe trying to foster camaraderie or make more yellow mages or some other horseshit."


    "It is entirely coincidental, I assure you. I don''t even know how we would go about predicting something like that."


    I regretfully open one eye to glance at the source of the voice: a winged, white cat that just popped into the room with a burst of joy. It hovers around head height, giving me a look about halfway between amusement and concern. Which, I gotta say, is a pretty complicated expression for a cat.


    "Hey, Uma''tama," I greet them. Or maybe him, or maybe her. I guess anything works. Preservers don''t really seem to care.


    "Hello, Eliza," Uma''tama smiles softly. "Are you doing alright?"


    "I''ll live," I answer again.


    "That isn''t what I asked."


    I sigh. Uma is such a mom.


    "It was kind of a close thing, if I''m being honest," I admit. "She could have killed me if things went differently, especially if she actually used that artifact. I''ll consider the fact that I''ll live pretty good, given the circumstances."


    "I suppose that''s all we can ask for," Uma''tama sighs. "I apologize for not alerting you to Anath''s presence sooner. We weren''t actually aware that she was on Earth until she was already very close to your brother."


    "It''s fine, Uma. I''m glad you at least told me when you did. She was¡­ even less stable than usual."


    "We saw," Uma''tama nods. "It''s concerning. We don''t know enough about the Dark World''s influence to know whether or not it''s reversible, but the infection certainly seems to be progressing."


    "Did you know that it was turning them into monsters outside of just their incarnations?"


    The little cat crosses its arms in front of its chest. I''m not sure if it''s something that a real cat can actually do, but judging by Jim''s expression it probably isn''t.


    "...We suspected," Uma''tama admits. "Their base forms don''t radiate a detectable signature like incarnate forms do, but that could have been explained any number of other ways. To be honest, we didn''t mention it because we didn''t want it to be true. Incarnate forms are already partially magic in nature, despite their physicality. We knew for a fact that the Dark World could influence them with severe overexposure, and assumed that would be the end of it. But if their real bodies are being changed in that way¡­ well, the infection is far more dangerous than we initially thought. And potentially a lot less reversible."


    I nod along. Yeah, that''s spooky. I didn''t exactly get the impression that Anath wanted anything reversed, but¡­ well, I didn''t get the impression that she was making particularly level-headed decisions. I guess she never exactly gave me the impression of being level-headed when she was on our side either, but I didn''t really know her that well.


    We''ve mostly been acquainted due to me being her latest target.


    "We would like to debrief you at the base, if you are up for it," Uma''tama says after waiting long enough to be sure I wasn''t going to respond.


    "Yeah, I''m up for it," I nod. "Hell, I''m combat ready."


    "...Eliza. No, you are not."


    "I am, though. Perks of being a freak."


    Uma''tama baps me on the head with their paw.


    "Being a unique and unprecedented case does not make you a ''freak,''" they insist. "What it means is that we do not know the consequences a damaged incarnate form would have on your condition."


    "Pretty sure there just aren''t any," I say.


    "Well, there''s no reason to force you to find out. You should take the time to heal."


    I don''t answer beyond shrugging off my brother''s hands and standing up, indicating my readiness through actions rather than words. Uma''tama just sighs and looks at my brother with a serious expression.


    "You make sure she takes care of herself, alright?" they command.


    "Aye-aye, ma''am!" Jim says, snapping them a salute. Ha! Ma''am? I''m telling you, they have mom energy.


    "I''ll meet you at the base," Uma''tama tells me, and then they vanish. I stretch my limbs, successfully pushing the phantom agony of my injuries from my mind and nodding goodbye to my brother, heading out of the staff room. I find my brother''s boss standing in the middle of the carnage and looking almost as disheveled as her store.


    "Sorry Ms. G," I tell her. "Magical girl fight."


    "Again!?" she moans, and I can''t really do anything other than shrug.


    "Sorry," I repeat, meaning it. She just nods and waves me off. I''m pretty sure she knows, but most people avoid talking about it directly with me. I''m not really sure why. I know some of them find me intimidating, some of them just don''t wanna look like an idiot if they''re wrong, but a lot of people? They just¡­ pretend it''s not there.


    Which I guess is fair. I wouldn''t really know how to talk about it to them, either. Talking about it with people who don''t know what it''s like is just¡­ uncomfortable. Yeah, I saved the city. Yeah, I''ve saved a lot of people''s lives.


    I''ve gotten a lot of people killed, too. And while all the rescues blur together after a while, the failures? They stay. They''re what I think about when I fight. The thing that fuels me.


    Furious Avenger Survivor Fulgora. An incarnate form always has four parts. Who you are. The emotion you fight with. The way you fight with it. And why. Not necessarily in that order, of course. It''s funny; when people hear my name they usually mix up which is which. I don''t correct them.


    It''s technically a school day, but you can''t really be a magical girl without accepting that your attendance records are going to be ass. I head down a few familiar alleyways with my thumbs in my belt loops until I find a very familiar wall. To most people, it looks the same as any other brick wall in this dump of an old college town, but I just let a little mana flow into my body and step forward. The wall gives way, letting me through with barely a feeling at all. It''s like sticking your finger through a bubble without popping it.


    Inside, I find myself somewhere completely different. Honestly I''m not really the biggest fan of this place; it''s kind of oppressive and uncomfortable, but at the same time it''s familiar enough that my complaints are easy to ignore. It''s just all so overwhelmingly white, the walls, floors, and ceilings all bright and slightly concave like I''m standing inside a giant egg. The arrivals room is actually one of the largest rooms in the place, a single row of wide crystal circles set into the floor at perfectly spaced intervals that glow slightly if someone is standing on them. This somehow helps us avoid exploding when we teleport in, though I don''t actually have any idea how it works.


    I head directly for the door like I''m supposed to, finding Uma''tama on the other side of it when I walk through it. We nod at each other in greeting and I follow her, glancing around and admiring the absolute fuck all. This place is basically half hospital, half training grounds, and half command center; I don''t really begrudge the lack of decorations. Anyone here should be here to work.


    ¡­With a few exceptions. Occasionally a magical girl will actually live here, either due to being an orphan or due to a family situation that makes them wish they were. I''ve seen Veritas doing her homework in the common room often enough to be certain she''s one of them, and considering she''s a blue caster with the word ''honoring'' in her name, I''ve been mentally betting on orphan.


    I know better than to ask.


    "Alright, Eliza," Uma''tama says, and I tense a little. "I''d like to talk with you about the fight, and especially the unidentified artifact you faced."


    "Yeah, uh," I frown, shifting my weight a little. "Actually, before that, can we just test my theory?"


    Uma''tama blinks.


    "Your¡­ theory?"


    "Y''know, my combat-ready theory," I say. "I just¡­ wanna make sure I''m not talking out of my butt when I say I''m prepared."


    "Eliza, please. You need to rest. I''m banning you from low-priority deployment until your incarnate form is healed."


    "I mean, okay, that''s fine," I allow. "But what if there''s a high-priority deployment? It''s important to be prepared, and isn''t it ideal to test it now, when there isn''t a crisis? Plus, I¡­"


    I trail off, but not quickly enough. Uma''tama gives me a look.


    "Plus, you¡­?"


    "...It''s weird walking around here as ''Eliza,''" I admit. "I''m not Eliza here. I''m Fulgora."


    And then, after a brief moment, I feel the need to add:


    "...Or Minerva."


    Uma''tama stares at me for a little while, but before I can start squirming under their gaze too much they give me a nod.


    "Alright," they allow. "If it would make you more comfortable, feel free."


    "Uh, yeah. Thank you," I say, and pull on the necklace I keep on me at all times, tugging my transformation stone up out of my bra.


    My brown transformation stone. I''ve been a magical girl for almost ten years and I''ve never seen anyone else with a brown transformation stone.


    "O??? A????, I F????."


    I feel my body shifting as I say the words, my clothing vanishing into nothing as a glow overtakes my body. Even though I''m bracing for it, it''s still so odd to feel myself shrink, dropping nearly a foot and a half in height in just a split second. I know that''s far from the only change, too. My rounder face, my lack of scars, even my hairstyle¡­ it''s like I went back in time to ten years ago, to when I first took up my mantle. And yet, the name I now speak is completely different.


    "B???? P?????ss D?????? M??????."


    What a fucking joke that I''m forced to cast with fear, yet call myself ''brave.'' I clear the thought away with a deep breath, summoning my incarnate weapon and spinning it a couple times in a flourish before dismissing it again. It''s pointlessly showy, but¡­ I dunno, it just felt right.


    "Hmm. You were correct. You appear unharmed," Uma''tama says.


    "Yeah," I agree. "I dunno, I just had a feeling."


    I''m still in pain, of course. Fulgora is no less injured than before, but this body isn''t Fulgora, it''s Minerva. Somehow.


    "We have no idea how you possess two different incarnate forms," Uma''tama hums. "But we suppose it does not seem to be detrimental, outside of the first few times you demonstrated the ability by accident."


    "I mean, it can still be a bit hard to control," I admit. "I''ve definitely done the wrong shift once or twice beyond what I''ve told you about. But¡­ oh! I actually cast two of Minerva''s spells as Fulgora in the fight today! I didn''t actually know I could do that. It was really weird."


    "Oh! That could be very powerful," Uma''tama says. "You should practice that; being able to switch between close and long-range combat more freely would be invaluable."


    "Ha! Don''t I know it," I chuckle. "So, uh¡­ the debrief."


    "The debrief!" Uma''tama agrees. "We witnessed the fight, but we would like to hear your account and thoughts on it as well."


    I nod and start talking, pretty used to this sort of thing. I explain the fight from my perspective, interjecting a detailed analysis of my mistakes as they come up. Though I do discuss my emotions and thought process throughout, it''s a lot easier talking about the fight as if I were a spectator, an unbiased observer who merely watched and judged.


    Uma''tama, somewhat predictably, mainly asks for more details when I start talking about the artifact. Unfortunately, I don''t have a lot more to say about it than the first time I encountered it. Like some silent, ghoulish mockery of the human form, it moves with almost contemptuous precision, avoiding nearly every attack sent its way and appearing entirely undamaged from the few that do connect. Its main weakness seems to be its general lack of offense; in our first fight it attacked mostly by throwing things, and in today''s fight it attacked with punches and grapple attempts. The punch it gave Anath was impressive, but it was backed almost entirely by weight and momentum, not much mana. More notably, it usually didn''t attack at all, only going after Anath once when it was explicitly ordered to and spending the rest of the fight either trying to interfere with my attacks or just watching like a creepy doll; never acting, always reacting. It seemed very sophisticated, but not particularly intelligent.


    "There are a lot of things it could potentially be," Uma''tama admits, "but ultimately, it is one of the largest intact artifacts we''ve ever seen come out of the Dark World, and that would be a top-priority hazard even if it wasn''t under the control of someone as unstable as Anath. Consider capturing it your highest priority other than the safety and well-being of you and your team."


    "Just capture?" I ask. "Not destruction?"


    "Yes," Uma''tama nods. "Like I said, it''s one of the largest intact artifacts we have encountered. Damaging it too heavily might not do anything, but it might be catastrophic. It is not a risk we can afford to take."


    "...Yeah, okay," I nod. "That makes sense."


    The Antipathy, after all, shattered their universe into countless pieces. Whatever horror they managed to do it with is probably still in those pieces, somewhere or another.


    "We will keep an eye out for the artifact," Uma''tama promises. "Until then, I wish to reiterate that you are to rest, and not to perform low-priority deployments. Avoid combat entirely unless you are specifically summoned by¡ª"


    A chime sounds in the room as the lights briefly flash a bluish-green. I sigh, anxiety pattering in my chest. It figures, really. I know I usually want to constantly work work work, but I was actually kind of feeling in the mood for some time off. I should have known better. This is just my luck.


    "...The artifact has been located," Uma''tama says, even more irritated by the timing than I am. "It hasn''t even left the city. Neither have the others."


    "Seriously?" I ask. "Where are they going?"


    "...Nowhere," Uma''tama frowns. "Unfortunately, this is a perfect opportunity. We will have to deploy your team."


    "Wait, my team? Don''t deploy my team!" I protest. "I know I look ten years old right now but they''re actual kids. If Anath and that other one are there then my team will be eaten alive. Maybe literally!"


    "It seems Anath ended up in worse shape than you," Uma''tama explains. "You did land a direct hit with two Abreactions. Her ally has been forced to devote her attention to healing. This is the perfect opportunity to capture the artifact. If you just grab it and run without fighting the other targets, they may simply let you. Though of course, we will leave the decision to engage secondary targets at your discretion."


    "But¡ª"


    "Minerva," Uma''tama says gently. "It is dangerous to overestimate your team''s abilities. But it is just as dangerous to underestimate them. If you need to retreat, then retreat. But it is unlikely that we will get another opportunity like this any time soon. We must get that artifact out of their hands."


    I sigh. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Why did I agree to do this? I don''t want to lead a team. I don''t deserve to. But there was no one else. It had to be me.


    I can''t allow myself to let them down.

 8. Nonlethal

    "Hold on, you two! We don''t have the time to take this slow!"


    Aurora and Veritas both give me firm nods, their wrists clasped with mine, and I lift into the air as fast as I can without hurting their shoulders. We rapidly rise into the air above the alleyway we exited base from, each of them holding onto me with one hand and keeping their mask in place with the other.


    As relatively new magical girls, the two of them haven''t learned how to manage their emotions well enough for sustained, long-term spellcasting, and that includes maintaining their transformed selves. It''s dangerous and irresponsible to wait until a fight starts to transform, but as young as they are, they don''t have a choice. My girls are strongest in the moments immediately following their transformation, and we cannot afford anything less than their absolute best.


    I am extremely unhappy about this mission, but worse than that, Uma''tama didn''t look happy about it either. It can be a bit hard to read the Preservers sometimes, but Uma has been with me since I was first chosen. During the briefing they were tense, uncomfortable, disapproving. They don''t want us to go on this mission any more than I do, but something is forcing their hand.


    I know exactly what that means. It means this is the kind of mission that gets girls killed.


    Fear hammers in my chest. They''ll die. They''ll die. They''ll die, they''ll die, they''ll die. I''m not a leader, I''m not a good teammate, I''m going to fail these girls and they are going to die. I hold onto the panic, focus on it, let it permeate my thoughts and power my will. There''s a trick to it, really. Lean into the spiral of panic like blowing warm air over an inferno, but soak up just enough of it as power to not let it overwhelm your thoughts. I channel the fear, believe its truth, and use my terror to focus ever harder on its source: the need to keep my team alive.


    I''ll fail someday. It will probably be today. How can I stop it?


    That''s the thing about using emotions as a power source. They are limitless. Emotions tend to build on themselves¡ªespecially negative emotions¡ªso that the more you fear, the more you fear. And the more you rage, the more you rage. Emotions are created ex nihilo, spitting in the face of entropy as they pop arbitrarily into existence from fertile patches of the mind, where they themselves are their own fertilizer. It''s incredible, but that is also their largest weakness.


    I consume my emotions to cast. When I transform, when I attack, when I fly, I am perpetually making myself less afraid. And if fear is the fertilizer of fear, what happens when I use it all up? It''s certainly not impossible to simply feel more fear anyway and restart the process, but the momentum gets lost. It takes time to build up that spiral of panic again, and all the while you''re still trying to use it, to consume the sparks before they can turn into flames. Both letting yourself feel an emotion too strongly and not letting yourself feel it strongly enough are fatal mistakes in battle, and that''s not even considering how the battle itself is going to be constantly messing with how you feel.


    "Minerva," a voice in my ear rings out. "Can you hear me?"


    "Loud and clear, Uma," I answer, keeping my eyes forward as we rush over the rooftops towards our target.


    "We have finished our perusal of the archives," Uma''tama tells me. "As we suspected, there is nothing. There is no record of the Antipathy possessing an artifact of that nature."


    "What does that mean, exactly?" I ask.


    "Very little, but none of it good," Uma''tama answers. "Effectively, it means it was developed around a similar time to the great execration, at the height of the Antipathy''s hatred. It was almost certainly built for war, though never fielded."


    "Alternate theory," I say. "It was fielded, and there were simply no surviving witnesses."


    "...It is not impossible," Uma''tama admits. "We fear the extent of your pessimism, Minerva."


    "It keeps me alive," I tell her. "So we''re potentially dealing with something on par with whatever artifact caused the shattering of the Dark World?"


    "In power? Not necessarily," Uma''tama says. "In malice, however? Almost certainly. You face a weapon made not to end suffering, but to cause as much as physically possible. The how or why, we do not know. Please be careful."


    "I will, Uma."


    "I mean it," she presses. "Come back safe, Minerva. Promise me."


    "...Okay, I promise," I lie. A promise like that could never be anything but a lie. "If things get too hot, I''ll pull everyone out. Worst case scenario, we gather some information and have to retreat."


    "Thank you, Minerva," Uma''tama sighs. "We will attempt to secure you backup. In the event of an emergency, we will contact Castalia."


    "Don''t," I say firmly. "She''s earned her rest."


    "You all have," Uma''tama insists. "And both we and she would want you to make it back to have yours."


    Then they hang up on me, leaving my instinctive protest with nowhere to go but a scowl.


    "Any intel?" Aurora asks, her voice loud to combat the rushing wind.


    "No," I answer. "Our target is an unknown. Fight defensively and try to lure it away from the Dark Worlders."


    "The Witches of Darkness!" Aurora insists. "They''re the Witches of Darkness!"


    "They''re the Monster Queens," Veritas grunts.


    "Okay, so fight defensively and try to lure the artifact away from the Monster Queens of Darkness," I say, unable to completely hide my smirk. "And rather than arguing with me on how to title our enemies, you should both be focusing your mind on your color."


    "I''m blue da ba dee da ba di¡ª"


    "Veritas," I snap. "Listen to me."


    She shuts up.


    "This is not a mission in the liminal space," I tell my team. "This is not a fight against a bumbling billionaire who happened to nab some basic Antipathy tech on the black market. This is easily the most complicated and dangerous artifact that either of you have ever encountered, and the ones using it are exceptionally dangerous mages in their own right. If either of you disobey my orders for even a second, you will be running drills until you forget what week it is. Am I clear?"


    I feel them both shudder in my grip, followed by a pair of weak calls of "yes, Minerva." Hopefully that will hold back Veritas'' disobedient streak long enough to get them both out alive.


    I''m focusing too much on survival. The problem with fear casting is that I keep forgetting to think about how to actually WIN.


    I shake my head in irritation at the thought. Surviving is the first step to winning. And I certainly don''t win if Veritas or Aurora are dead or gravely injured, even if we capture the artifact.


    The first step isn''t enough. Yes, survival is important. Obviously. Plan beyond it. Have backup plans. THINK.


    Think. Right. Unfortunately, I''m not sure what sort of plans I can make. Aurora and Veritas have been drilled on their formations and how to support each other in a fight; anything more complicated than that isn''t likely to be within their ability without prior practice. Moreover, while they have significant experience fighting on rooftops because of city-based liminal zones, they don''t have much experience fighting on Earth, in situations where civilians are likely to be nearby and in the way.


    They will need to get that experience, but I wish it wasn''t in a situation as volatile as this. And that''s the problem, isn''t it? I can''t make plans because the situation is too volatile. I don''t know the degree to which Anath and the other monster woman will be in the fight. I don''t know what the artifact we are after is capable of. I have barely seen it fight, but it seemed fully capable of outmaneuvering and overpowering Veritas. I have no idea if adding Aurora and myself will change that equation. I don''t think I''ve seen anywhere close to the artifact''s full capabilities.


    There isn''t really any time to think about it anyway. Off in the distance, I see them. The once-human monsters and the artifact. I have no doubt that means the artifact sees us, too.


    "Prepare to transform!" I shout, though I have no doubt that it¡¯s somewhat redundant to say. My girls know how this works.


    Anath appears to be lying unconscious on her back, her companion kneeling over her to cast a healing spell. Healing is not and has never been my forte; as much as the idea of being on a team absolutely terrifies me (not to mention leading the team) it is nice to work with someone who can do it, even given healing magic''s countless limitations.


    Aurora is our team''s healer, as most yellow mages tend to have some skill with that kind of spell. In fact, I would be surprised if there are any magical girls with love as their primary emotion who can''t excel at healing magic. The emotion you burn to create mana greatly influences the effectiveness, capabilities, and extraneous elements of a spell. There''s nothing more inherently effective than burning your love for someone as fuel to heal them. Love is one of the most difficult emotions to generate, but it is also one of the most difficult emotions to run out of. It''s ideal for healing in countless ways.


    Anger, conversely, is horrible at it. I know that firsthand. And yet I watch as a red circle hums around the healer''s inhuman arm, pushing power into Anath''s mangled body. How? How does she do it? What sort of magical secrets have these dark witches¡ªor whatever they are¡ªteased out of the corpse of the Antipathy? How are they so strong?


    A fresh flash of fear pulses through me as I recall my fight against Anath, most of it feeling muddy and indistinct except for the moment of sheer terror immediately preceding my escape from the artifact''s grasp. My desperate leap off its body, twisting through the air as I aimed Fulgora''s staff like it was my rifle. It was like I had completely forgotten which body I was in, completely forgotten which weapon I was holding in my hands, because the rush of fear was so potent I couldn''t imagine being anything but Minerva. Anath has attacked me close to a dozen times over the past year or so, but she''s never fought this hard before. I never knew she could. I always considered her somewhat of a nuisance, bothering me by making empty threats that I had no choice but to respond to so she could presumably get her kicks having her butt kicked over and over. Today, she proved willing and able to bring us both to the brink of death, and I have no idea why she never showed that power before, nor why she chose to show it now.


    If that red-aligned healer has been similarly holding back, we are officially on a time limit that ends the moment she finishes healing. We haven''t fought her much beyond quick skirmishes that she retreats from, but the ease with which she escapes doesn''t give me confidence about beating her while she has her back to a wall.


    No time to think about it now. We''re close, close enough that I have to think about where to throw. The monsters ignore us while the artifact stares right at us, waiting as it always does for us to make the first move. Again, never acting, only reacting.


    To capture it, we''re going to have to take advantage of that.


    "Veritas, hornet! Aurora, barrage! Box it in and take it down hard!"


    I shout my orders and toss my girls with all my might, aiming Veritas straight at our target while directing Aurora to an adjacent rooftop where she can better take advantage of her range. The moment I let go, they both engage their transformations.


    "B? M? R?s????!"


    "?L?s P?????????!"


    The artifact reacts immediately, thrusters emerging from the back of its frame.


    "H??????? V??????? D??????? V?????s!"


    "L????? S????? P???????? A?????!"


    And though I''ve already transformed, a pulse of sympathetic resonance compels me to match their words as their leader.


    "B???? P?????ss D?????? M??????! Earth Guardians, engage hard and fast!"


    As I speak the words, I''m already summoning my incarnate weapon and moving to track a bead on the artifact. Before I can fire a shot, though, its thrusters ignite, launching it slightly to the side and then rapidly bursting it directly towards Veritas. Its jump takes it on a path to not only collide with her in midair, but to knock her towards where Aurora is about to land. I fire off a quick beam to intercept it in midair, but I don''t have time to make it powerful enough to knock the artifact off course. Veritas fails to summon her weapons in time, and the artifact wraps an arm around her shoulders and yanks her in the direction it wants her to go.


    Without anything to brace against, Veritas stands no chance at resisting the force of a rocket-powered hunk of humanoid metal. She manages to slip away before the artifact can get a firm grip on her, but she still tumbles onto the roof next to Aurora, rolling once before managing to get back to her feet and summon her weapons.


    I think the artifact''s intention might have been to try and throw Veritas into Aurora, but Aurora is quick and already retreating to a better position by the time Veritas hits the roof. Her own fist weapons are summoned and ready, the glowing orbs they remotely control already launching towards the artifact to strike. It weaves between them, narrowly avoiding damage while Veritas charges forward to follow up.


    Throughout it all, I keep one eye on the monster women. The healer isn''t even looking at us, all of her focus seemingly on keeping Anath alive. Good, that''s exactly what we were hoping for. Now we just have to do this fast.


    I level my weapon and start charging energy, flying to a spot above the battle as fast as I can move without disrupting my aim. The artifact responds immediately, twisting to keep itself out of my line of fire in the same movement it uses to avoid Veritas'' thrust, keeping Veritas between itself and me. As I thought, it''s the exact same strategy that it used the first time we fought. I adjust my aim to track it and it moves accordingly, as if my gun had a laser sight and it was fleeing from the dot. It can just see exactly where I''m aiming, from the opposite end of the barrel, and move to avoid that spot. It''s exceptionally impressive.


    And naive.


    "F????????¡­!"


    I speak the first word of my spell slowly, leisurely, taking time to prepare my shot. I''m floating high above the battlefield, positioning myself almost directly above our target, around fifty to sixty feet up. The artifact can''t try to hide behind my girls without grabbing them and lifting them up like an umbrella, and Veritas is keeping her temper in check and refusing to give the artifact an opportunity. I adjust my aim left, and the artifact moves right. I adjust my aim right, and the artifact moves left.


    If I miss, I could hit Veritas. I''d never forgive myself. It''s a terrifying thought, and I pour it and countless others into the spell, the artifact once again moving to dodge. Not that I¡¯ll let it.


    It might be fast, but it''s not faster than lightning. If it wants to dodge, it has to do so preemptively, but no degree of precision of movement can let it outmaneuver my gun. I only need to make tiny adjustments to my aim in order to substantially alter the ultimate trajectory of the attack, and I can slightly twitch my arms until its attempted dodge inevitably intersects with my target line.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I don''t even have to predict it. It might be able to react instantly, but it can''t move instantly. The moment it overcommits, I speak the final word of the spell and let the lightning crash down.


    "T??????!"


    It''s a satisfying direct hit, and against any normal opponent I would be happily celebrating a victory right now. Unfortunately, today is clearly not a day of normal opponents. The lightning strikes hard, full of my magical intent to harm just as much as it is of electricity, but the attack still falls across its frame like water, forcibly dispersed by some kind of shield despite no evidence of a spell being cast. There isn''t even any visual sign of damage, but I just put the fear that this battle is hopeless directly back into another spell.


    We are going to capture this thing. We can''t let the Dark Worlders use it for whatever horrible scheme they''re cooking up next.


    <hr>


    My power reserves are down to 17%. This is starting to make me a little nervous.


    I don''t want to be here. I don''t want to be fighting these children. I don''t want to be fighting any magical girls, but the fact that they''re little kids is an extra kick in the tit. I have never been great with kids, but I do like them. I babysat for my neighbors in high school a little. Their twins would run circles around me, leaving me exhausted by the time their parents finally got home. This is kind of starting to remind me of that, except that the children are actually trying to kill me and the longer this goes on, the more I start to feel the urge to respond in kind.


    I don''t want to hurt them. I don''t. But I physically, literally cannot allow them to get closer to Nanaya. This isn''t the sort of weak compulsion that''s open to my personal interpretation. I have witnessed Melpomene express deep trust in Nanaya, I know for a fact that Melpomene would want her allies to be safe, and I cannot convince myself that my desire not to harm these children is in any way more in line with my master''s wishes than my need to disable their ability to harm us.


    And that''s fucked up, isn''t it? It''s so depressing that I would definitely be giving myself a net increase in power during this fight if not for the damn lightning bolts. No matter how hard I try, I can''t seem to avoid them. I might be able to react in slow motion, but I have to commit to my reactions in ways that the flying artillery child simply doesn''t. She''s good. Really good. A way bigger problem than her two allies. She keeps adjusting her aim in ways that force me to move into bad positions, enabling her teammates to score glancing blows that wear me down whenever I try to dodge. But if I don''t dodge, she just shoots me with a lightning bolt! How am I supposed to¡ª


    Assuming I minimize thruster output and continue avoiding damage from most other sources, target three (''Minerva'') will reduce my power reserves to zero in less than two minutes. It is unknown if this will be enough time to heal Anath, but the affirmative cannot be assumed. The answer to the question ''how am I supposed to stop these children without hurting any of them'' is ''I can''t.''


    ¡ªwin this fight while inflicting as little damage as possible?


    "F??¡ª"


    God fucking damnit.


    "¡ª??¡ª"


    I smash my foot into the ground, breaking up the roof into chunks.


    "¡ª????¡ª"


    I lean down and snatch some of those chunks out of the air, hurling as many as I can hold towards the target above me. Each finger holds a different hunk of concrete and releases it a split second apart during the arc of the throw, resulting in a wide shotgun spread of debris.


    "¡ªT???¡ª"


    She dodges anyway, swaying her aim on purpose to make it unclear where she''s actually going to fire. Physical projectiles simply can''t keep up with her at this distance, at least none that I can throw. I have no choice but to choose a direction at random and jump.


    "¡ª???!"


    God I hate that spell. It''s like it''s mocking me. ''Fulminant'' means ''severe and sudden in onset,'' like a flash of lightning. But every single time she starts to cast it, my mind slows down and makes me suffer through every last syllable at the pace of molasses. I suppress an urge to shudder as the attack slams into my shielding (suboptimal movement; significantly increased chance of dodge failure) and try not to think about how much I wish I could just lose on purpose.


    My power reserves have been reduced to 14%. The depression is doing a pretty good job at trying to refill the metaphorical tank, but it''s just not enough. I''m pretty sure that without an effective ranged attack, there is very little I can do to stop this strategy.


    Aurora stays far away from me, pestering me with her remote-controlled attack spell while Veritas serves as a physical wall between me and her¡­ except unlike most walls she is also trying to stab me with a big lance. She has, unfortunately, learned her lesson from our last battle, and while it might be possible to goad her into attacking more recklessly I of course cannot talk, so that''s off the table.


    If I fought more aggressively, I might be able to take them down through force, but I''m so low on energy right now I doubt I would be able to pull it off before getting shot with so much lightning that I die. Or¡­ you know, whatever happens when I reach zero percent power. I''ll fail the mission, anyway, and that''s worse than dying so whatever.


    Confirmed. I will fail the mission if I do not access a sufficient ranged attack. If only I could cast¡ª


    Magic is something I only have limited knowledge of. I have significant records of the magical circles that are generated immediately before spoken spells are cast, and sometimes when silent spells are cast. What causes some magic to need flashy glyphs to appear in the air? What causes some magic to need people to talk out loud? I don''t know the answer to that, but unless I can figure out how to do both of those things¡ª


    Conscious magical access affirmed mission-critical. Initiating manual control.


    ¡ªWhich I have apparently just done okay oh god. In retrospect, it is suddenly obvious I can cast spells. I''m literally partially made out of the crystals that magical girls used to control theirs; mine have linked with my soul in the same way that theirs links with their own, and through this ability to store and channel power I can guide the magical energy with my will. I create my emotions. My emotions create my magic. The magic I create is mine. No one else''s. Never anyone else''s. I can cast.


    ¡ªThat damn spell back at her.


    I dodge Veritas''s next thrust towards her off-hand side, purposefully putting myself open for her to bash me with her shield. She takes the opening, but I''m already moving to do the same, jumping to plant my feet on that shield and use her as an unwilling springboard to make myself some distance. It''s a big movement, one that leaves me open to attacks from the other two girls, which Minerva notices immediately, preparing to discharge another lightning bolt. The spheres of power that Aurora controls fly towards me as well, ready to smack me out of the sky, but I grab onto one of them, using it to twist in midair to dodge the other. Just touching the orb starts to drain my power as it discharges magical energy into my shield, but I don''t need to hold it for long.


    I bring up my free hand, palm first, and aim it towards Minerva. Her eyes go wide as copies of her own magical circles bloom around my arm, my will writing them into the air. Three different circles, all with dozens of glyphs detailing the shape, direction, composition, target, but most importantly the source of all this power and the intent behind it. Though close, my spell is not an exact copy of Minerva''s; adjustments must be made simply for the fact that I am not her, and the spell she fires at me is not the same sort of spell that my soul resonates with.


    I could not possibly power the spell with my fear, because the thing I fear most right now is killing her, and that could never properly guide a spell meant to harm. Most of the energy I''m currently using to maintain myself comes from regret, depression, and self-hate. I don''t want to be here. I don''t want to hurt them. I wish I could go back and change all my decisions that led me to this point. Please, god please, I don''t want to hurt them.


    I can''t power the spell with that either, for more or less the same reason. So while it converts at a loss in my engine of blue, I''ll go ahead and spend all the annoyance I''ve built up into this retaliatory strike. It''s an intrusive thought, not one I particularly wish to entertain or legitimize, but who hasn''t wanted to punt an annoying kid, at least for a moment? I of course have some pretty strong feelings against child abuse, for a lot of pretty personal reasons, and I don''t think it''s acceptable to hurt a child even if they¡¯re shooting lightning at you. But it still kind of pisses me off, and I can use that.


    I have to use that. I don''t have a choice.


    Maybe I would have a choice if I was just better at doing what I was told. If I was stronger, smarter, faster, maybe I wouldn''t be in this position. I know better than to fool myself into blaming a kid¡ªnot to mention a hero¡ªfor the pain I''m about to inflict on them. This is my fault, my sin, and no one else''s. I am so, so sorry.


    But also, stop fucking shooting me with lightning. I shove the feeling into the spell, and the glyphs glow red.


    "[F ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? T ? ? ? ? ? ?]"


    My body says the words on its own, my first hint at something that could be my new voice ringing out through the air. I don''t know how it made the sound; I don''t seem to have access to whatever system said the words. My body sounds vaguely feminine, but in a way that is unmistakably artificial, undeniably robotic. Like an ancient text-to-speech program, the sound is devoid of human intonation or emotion, nothing but a changeling''s cry trying to lure humans into believing that a monster can talk.


    I don''t hate the sound, honestly. The problem is just that I was not the one speaking the words.


    I don¡¯t have much time to think about my voice, though. My spell crashes through Minerva, leaving her with no time to form a proper defense. Her flight sputters and she falls backwards out of the sky, her outfit singed and smoking as her tiny body plummets towards the earth.


    I watch the sight in slow motion, and my power reserves rise to 18%.


    "Minerva!" Veritas shouts, turning away from me and giving me an opportunity to attack that I cannot bring myself to ignore. Aurora, fortunately, is also moving to catch Minerva, but what matters now is taking out the next obstacle in my way. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m angry enough to blast this kid point-blank with lightning, so I have to settle for punching her in the gut. Saliva splatters over my frame as air is forced out of her lungs, though at least it isn¡¯t vomit or blood. I suspect that punch would have killed a normal human child, and for a moment before it impacted I feared that¡¯s exactly what I was about to do. How fucked up is it that holding a choking kid in my arms is the relieving outcome of this situation?


    My power reserves have increased to 19%.


    Okay that question was rhetorical but thanks. A solid one percent fucked up! It¡¯s so nice that I can measure this now.


    My power reserves have increased to 20%.


    Oh my god, I was kidding, fuck off.


    "?A??????? C???????!"


    I tilt my head slightly, focusing on the source of the spell to see Aurora pouring power into Minerva''s body, undoing the damage I just did. Okay, so the Spanish-speaking girl is a healer. Actually, is that Spanish? I think it''s Spanish. Anyway, this kind of puts me back at square one, but I never actually wanted to win so that''s not a big deal.


    It does mean I''ll have to hurt her again, though.


    "Boost me!" Minerva orders, and Aurora obligingly tosses her back up into the air. I don¡¯t think I can let that happen, so I hit Veritas again and throw her away before leaping up to intercept Ms. Lightning Artillery. I swear I hear her click her tongue in annoyance before swinging her gun at me like it¡¯s a baseball bat. I bring up my hand to catch the attack, but that turns out to be a mistake as Minerva starts talking.


    "F???? B??s?!"


    A shockwave explodes out from her weapon, knocking my arm away and sending me head over heels back down towards the ground. I steady my momentum with a shot of thrust and land on my feet, but Veritas is ready for me despite the damage I inflicted.


    "G??? T???s?!" she says, a whirling tornado covering her weapon as she smashes it into me, the tip failing to bypass my shielding but still doing substantial damage in the attempt. Again, I am thrown off balance, and again, I am attacked as I attempt to recover.


    "?C??????? L????????!"


    Aurora punches both arms towards me, crossing them in the process, and the golden orbs she controls quickly flank me and belch out geysers of fire in my direction. I need to incorporate an attack into my defense here or I''m going to get overwhelmed. And, well, I only really have one attack, so¡­


    "[F ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? T ? ? ? ? ? ?]" my body declares as I leap away from Aurora''s fire, springboarding off the roof with one hand while I aim the other. This is one of my big advantages, after all. I''m never really on the back foot, because I don''t have the human ability to be mentally unable to keep up with the fight. It doesn''t matter how many things I am dodging, I can still aim perfectly while weaving between them. I unleash the spell directly back at Minerva, once again intending to knock her out of the sky.


    "S???? B??????!"


    Well, shit.


    She was ready for me this time. A spell I recognize from Fulgora''s fight with Anath pops into existence between us, fully absorbing my attack. Fulgora also used Fulminant Thunder, didn''t she? Is Minerva her apprentice or something? It would explain why she seems so pissed off right now.


    Well, that''s okay. It''s probably smarter to take out the healer first anyway. I should have done that already; it''s like I''ve learned nothing from video games. I jump away from a wide swing of Veritas'' lance (my power reserves have dropped back down to 18% after her last attack, so I can''t afford to be hit again) and aim my next shot towards Aurora.


    Wait. I''m not mad at Aurora.


    I''m not really mad at any of these girls anymore; knocking a child out of the sky with a bolt of lightning pretty much took all of my irritation and turned it right back into pity and regret. I need to use my usual blue mana, but I still can''t power the spell with my own lack of desire to hurt people.


    But maybe I can power it with my regret over having to hurt them anyway.


    I let the spell crackle to life again, aiming my arm at Minerva to catch them off guard, the magic circles now glowing blue. Immediately, the spell feels a dozen times easier to cast, and I''m worried that I''ll put too much power into it, but I still can''t convince myself to stop. I am a weapon. Melpomene''s weapon. I cannot protest being used that way.


    I''m sorry.


    I speak the words and re-aim at the last second, unleashing my shot towards Aurora. To my surprise, though, Veritas actually manages to jump in the way before the bolt fires, absorbing the attack with her shield, but getting knocked off the rooftop in the process.


    "Veritas!" Aurora yelps, making the mistake of taking her eyes off of me as she watches her teammate tumble off of the edge. I jump right at her, weaving to barely avoid a shot from Minerva as I get in range to take the healer down. I swing a fist, intending to clobber her in the cheek and knock her out of the fight in one blow.


    Don''t think about what head injuries can do to a person. Don''t think about the sort of accidents that can happen in a fight like this. Don''t think about the mistakes you could make that end with blood on your hands. Thoughts like that can only make me stronger, and that''s the last thing I want.


    My fist moves forward, aimed precisely at one of her many blind spots, calculated to have the best chance of hitting exactly where I want to hit. But Aurora moves without even looking at me, dodging the blow and responding with an uppercut from her magic brass knuckles.


    Right. She has those. I guess they''re not just control devices for her weird little orbs.


    "?F????? A???????!" she shouts, a golden aura of heat radiating off of her body as she follows up with another punch. This one I dodge, but I can tell as it swings past my head that she''s now moving a lot faster and her attacks are a lot more dangerous. Why is the healer significantly more dangerous up close!? Curse you video games, you have taught me nothing!


    Veritas takes this opportunity to jump back onto the roof, shaking off a bit of dust and otherwise appearing unharmed from the fall. I''m surrounded now, with very little room to maneuver and Minerva still overhead ready to pump me full of lightning. I''m forced back on the defensive, trying to make distance between me and my targets, but they keep cutting me off like sheepdogs, herding me farther and farther away from Anath and Nanaya. Which isn''t the worst thing, I guess; my specific orders are to keep everyone away from them, after all, but unless I can attack some more I won''t have a way to replenish my power reserves.


    Again, I''m starting to lose. Again, I wouldn''t really mind losing. But I no longer get to make decisions based on what I want. Yet as I try to figure out how to go back on the offensive while fighting one-on-three at low power, I notice something that changes everything.


    Nanaya stands up.


    She stares at Anath''s still-unconscious body for a few lingering moments, and then turns towards our fight, walking leisurely in our direction. No, ''leisurely'' isn''t the right way to put it. Her steps are slow, devoid of any particular urgency, but Nanaya does not look like the sort of person who has any concept of leisure. Her sedate pace is as deliberate as a horror movie. The many fingers on her unnaturally long arms clench into fists so tight that I can hear the joints crack from two roofs over. The glower on her face is so utterly condescending, so done with this entire situation that I struggle to believe this fight isn''t exactly as over as she wants it to be.


    Minerva notices her approach first, breaking off to interpose herself between Nanaya and the rest of us. She aims her rifle threateningly, silently commanding Nanaya to stay back, but the red-eyed woman deliberately takes a few more steps before deigning to stop. She stares up at Minerva as if the gun isn''t even there.


    "I''d rather you didn''t kill yourself like this," Nanaya says flatly. "They''ll just make some other girl take your place."


    Minerva''s aim slacks, the gun pointing towards the ground. I can''t see the look on her face from this angle, but I can feel the torrent of fear weighing down the air. Minerva turns and flies at full speed back towards me and her teammates, her gun disappearing from her hands.


    "Retreat!" Minerva orders. "Full retreat!"


    "What!?" Veritas snaps, but Minerva swoops down and scoops the girl up with one arm, latching onto a much more obedient Aurora with the other and flying off. I step back and let them do it, my orders apparently completed.


    I glance back towards Nanaya, who stares at me for a moment before giving me a slight nod and walking back to pick up Anath. I watch the heroes fly away, a couple more percentages of power ticking up in the back of my mind as I think about all the ways I hurt them, before moving to Nanaya''s side. I flank behind her the same way I do with Melpomene, waiting for new orders.


    Nanaya tosses Anath over one shoulder and rummages through the backpack of things Anath recently stole, pulling out the cellphone. She taps through it briefly before letting out an irritated growl and putting it back away.


    "We''re too late," she scowls. "Our way back has closed. We''ll have to find a place to hide on Earth for a few days. Come with me, artifact."


    I nod, my mind automatically trying to think of a way to help. Actually, while I''m not really an expert on illegally smuggling myself and others around the country, that doesn''t mean I can''t spend this time optimizing my ability to help in the future. I follow Nanaya over the rooftops, letting her lead me towards a run-down part of town, presumably to find some condemned building or unlocked warehouse to keep a roof over our heads while we wait. Hopefully she won''t kick out any homeless people we find already living there, though I guess realistically we wouldn''t have to because they will almost certainly run like hell when we arrive.


    Thankfully, the abandoned factory we break into appears to be empty when we get there, and though there are signs that other people have slept here recently I guess they''re all out and about for the day. Nanaya drops Anath onto one of the cleaner parts of the floor and sits down, grumbling unintelligibly to herself as she pulls out the phone again and starts poking away at it. I squat down next to her, making sure I can see the screen, and after Nanaya checks the weather and the local news and a couple other things, I hold my hand out to request access as she moves to put the phone away again.


    She squints at me suspiciously, but thankfully hands me the phone, leaning over so she can watch what I do with it. To my absolute delight, the person we stole this from appears to have the Wikipedia app, letting me poke that with my metal finger, hit random page a few times, and eventually start a wiki walk of links to get to where I want to go without having to type anything in the search bar. Ever since I got to Earth I have been in desperate need of looking this up, because despite my probably absurd processing power, I am starting to suspect brute force attacks just aren''t going to cut it.


    Being a robot slave, rather unsurprisingly, has been a somewhat horrible experience. But I have to admit, I do feel a little bit of giddy excitement as I successfully pull up the page on TCP/IP protocols.

 9. By Myself

    "I''m sorry, Uma."


    "You''ve done nothing wrong, Minerva."


    "I''m sorry. I''m such a coward."


    The wind whips through my hair, the green ribbons on my outfit snapping and thrashing against the current. I grit my teeth, holding Veritas tight in the fear that she will leap out of my grasp and return to the fight the moment I give her a chance. Really, though, I should trust her more. She''s my teammate, and she agreed to retreat on my order. I shouldn''t think of her as a liar. She''s not one.


    She''s not happy with me, though. I''m not happy with myself.


    I panicked. I lost control. And maybe I was right to panic, because that woman was stronger than Fulgora and I don''t even know if she was transformed. I know red magic, I know anger, and the amount of it rolling off of her made it impossible for me to imagine victory. But what good am I, if I can''t face up to impossible odds? That''s what we are. Earth Guardians. The first, last, and only line of defense our world has against every other. I''m one of the oldest and most experienced among all of us, so why am I so weak?


    Aurora glances up with a concerned look on her face, already sensitive enough to the fluctuations of magic to get a general read on my mental state. She''s a prodigy, a truly exceptional warrior. I have to protect her, both for her sake and the world''s. She''s going to be so much stronger than me one day, though the thought fills me with as much inadequacy as it does hope. I''m going to get her killed. I''m not fit to be a leader. I shouldn''t have a team at all.


    And yet, things have gotten so bad that Uma''tama doesn''t really have any other options.


    "You said that if one of the Monster Queens entered the fight, you''d stall them long enough for us to complete the objective," Veritas accuses.


    "Yeah," I agree. I did say that.


    "We almost had it," Veritas insists.


    "Yeah," I agree again.


    "Veritas, leave her alone," Aurora says gently.


    "But she¡ª"


    "You both did well," I say, cutting her off. "Veritas is right. I failed at my role. I panicked, and it prevented us from completing the mission. This was my fault."


    Objectively, I know that just because the red mage is more powerful than I am, that doesn''t mean the engagement was an automatic loss. My goal wasn''t even to defeat her, only to delay her long enough for the other girls to finish their job. But I panicked, just like I did that day. Maybe I should just be thankful everyone is still alive.


    "It wasn''t a complete failure," Uma''tama projects into our ears. "We have learned quite a bit about our enemies today, and we managed to gain enough readings from the fight to be confident that we are at least not caught in the worst-case scenario. That artifact was impressively dangerous, especially given its ability to copy spells, but we are now confident that it poses no existential threat to the stability of your universe, at least not outside the normal risk for artifacts."


    "Well, that''s good!" Aurora says, trying to brighten the mood. "And since the Witches of Darkness have been sticking around our town for so long, I''m sure we''ll get another chance to take them down!"


    "Exactly our thoughts!" Uma''tama agrees. "Your targets today have traditionally kept out of the limelight, bringing artifacts to Earth and giving them to humans to cause havoc by proxy. Whether they keep that humanoid artifact or give it away to some criminal, we will have more opportunities to capture it and prevent any more harm."


    "We could have captured it today," Veritas complains.


    "Perhaps, but don''t forget that your team just had to bail you out of getting captured the other day, Veritas. We think you should trust your team more when it comes to judging what is and isn''t a winnable fight. The mindless monsters that emerge from the Dark World must be taken down immediately, so we understand that you are used to fighting hard until victory is achieved. But whatever plan the Corrupted have, it is clearly more long-term than a mindless slaughter of innocents. We cannot rush our engagements against them, lest we rush into a trap."


    "Corrupted?" I ask.


    "Yes, well, we heard you all arguing over what to name them on your flight over, so we figured we would share our name for them. As you know, engagements within the Dark World must be kept as brief and infrequent as possible, due to the dangers of the miasma. Your enemies today are why this rule exists."


    "Wait, are you saying that they''re Earth Guardians?" Aurora asks.


    "Yes," Uma''tama answers seriously. "They are former comrades of yours, but they have given up their duty and succumbed to the hatred of the Antipathy. We do not know their objectives, but their hatred for us likely borders on madness. As an Earth Guardian gets older, they become more powerful, but their resistance to the miasma lessens. The Corrupted are a group of four girls whom we have inexcusably failed to protect¡ªAnath, Nanaya, Amalthea, and Melpomene. They are extremely dangerous, possessing all the powers they held as Earth Guardians in addition to whatever dark gifts the lingering will of the Antipathy has granted them."


    "They look like they''re turning into monsters," Veritas says quietly.


    "They do indeed," Uma''tama agrees. "And perhaps that is exactly what is happening. We fear that one day, that transformation will consume them completely, and there will be nothing left of the human mind they once possessed. We wish to save them, if at all possible, but we do not understand the Dark World well enough to confirm if their condition is reversible."


    "You think they''re going to slowly experience ego death?" I ask, faintly horrified.


    "We do not know, but the evidence points that way. The monsters infesting the Dark World did not exist before the great execration, when that universe was still whole. We believe, therefore, that the monsters were the former plants and animals of the Dark World, and perhaps even all that is left of the Antipathy themselves."


    I grimace. I was afraid it would be something like that. No wonder Anath has been getting more and more unhinged every time she comes after me. At least there are only four of them, and if they''re former magical girls then I should at least be able to pull up records of their skills and fighting styles. I can prepare, at least. I don''t know if it will be enough to overcome the power difference, but I have to try.


    Even Veritas'' irritation sobers a little after that conversation, and we spend the rest of the flight back to base in silence. The aftermath of a mission is often like this, the exhaustion catching up with us in the moments before we have to somehow return to civilian life. It''s not even lunchtime yet, not that I had the opportunity to eat breakfast. Before I know it, I''ve gone through the motions, walking back out onto the streets of my hometown as my incarnate form sloughs off of me like blood in the shower. Now human again, I have nothing else to do but walk to school.


    I remember when I first became an Earth Guardian. It was exciting, in a way, to so often sneak out of class and fight monsters, keeping my secret identity close to my chest as I tried to balance my responsibilities to the world with my responsibilities as an individual. But it wasn''t long before I started drifting away from my friends, unable to give them satisfying explanations for all the promises I couldn''t keep, for all the classes I had to miss, for the times I would come back limping without an injury to make up an excuse for. I don''t even know why I go to school, sometimes. Am I just going to retire like Castalia? I may have gotten accepted to college somehow, but I can''t even imagine it. I''m honestly shocked that I''m going to graduate high school this year. I don''t feel like I''ve earned it, with how my grades barely scrape by, often just a little higher than they probably should be. It''s sort of obvious that I''m one of the local magical girls. Nobody talks to me about it¡ªI wouldn''t tell them anything if they did¡ªbut most people in my grade still treat me with that mix of pity and awe that''s just a little too condescending to ignore.


    What do my teachers think I''m going to do if they fail me? Are they afraid I''ll blow up their house? Earth Guardians don''t do that. Maybe they just don''t want to be the person holding back the hero who keeps their children alive from graduating. It''s weird to me. Those two things aren''t related. Even if I dropped out of high school, it''s not like I''d stop being an Earth Guardian. School is just the thing I do when there aren''t any monsters to destroy.


    By the time I make it to school the cafeteria is open, so I limp my way inside, the compounded injuries from both Minerva and Fulgora aching deeply inside my soul. Aurora is a great healer, but magical healing isn''t quite as magical as I''d like it to be. It works more like a shot of adrenaline, which to an incarnate form can actively, physically repair it for a little while. But incarnate forms are strange, confusing things, as conceptual as they are physical, and for whatever reason they retain our physical human weaknesses when it comes to what we can and cannot walk off.


    It''s not like magic can''t physically repair the injuries of the human body, but as far as I know there was only ever one Earth Guardian who managed it, and she is no longer with us.


    "Oh! Eliza, hey!"


    I glance over and spot Chloe waving at me as I get in the lunch line. I wave back, and after getting my food I limp over to her table and sit down.


    "I, uh, noticed you weren''t in class this morning, so I copied my notes for you," she says, handing me a stack of papers.


    "Thanks," I nod at her, taking them and putting them in my backpack despite knowing that I will never once read them.


    "Are you doing okay?" she asks hesitantly. "You were limping a lot."


    I shrug, not really knowing what to say. Chloe is probably the closest thing I have to a friend, but she''s not an Earth Guardian and I just don''t have any idea how to articulate everything that happened to someone who wouldn''t get it. Both of my fights today were on Earth, which means they almost certainly were on the news, and while I doubt Chloe would ever connect me to Minerva, she almost certainly knows that I am Fulgora. She''s known for years, despite the fact that I''ve never told her.


    "It looks worse than it is," I lie. "How are you doing? Things with Brian going okay?"


    She groans and starts to regale me with her many relationship troubles. God, she could never be a magical girl. With how much she lets her emotions control her she''d probably blow herself up on the first day. I hum along with her story, giving her amicable nods and appropriate noises of sympathy as I mentally check on the carefully cultivated bundle of anger I keep simmering inside me. My fears float around it, unwanted but still managed by necessity. It churns like an engine, always idling so it can roar up to speed in an instant.


    "You''re not really listening, huh?" Chloe calls me out. "Sorry, I talk about myself too much. Do you have any fun plans for the summer?"


    I turn to look at her, the anxiety wafting off of her marking her bright smile as fake.


    "No, not really," I tell her.


    "Well, we should hang out!" she insists. "I know you have a bit of an unpredictable schedule, but I''m flexible. We could go shopping, or see a movie, or hell, pretend to be older and get drunk if you want!"


    That manages to make me snort with amusement.


    "I don''t think that last one is a good idea," I tell her. It would sort of be a public safety risk.


    "So¡­ you think the other ones are?" she presses, wiggling her eyebrows at me.


    Oh, I see. She''s trying to cheer me up. That''s¡­ really nice, actually.


    "I guess if you''re going to twist my arm about it," I smirk at her. "Sure. You pick the time and place, and then I probably won''t show up."


    "It''s a date!" she declares. "Well, not like a date-date. I think I''m starting to figure out that''s not really your thing."


    I blink.


    "Is it not?" I ask, slightly dumbfounded. "I guess I never really thought about it."


    "Yeah, that''s kinda why I don''t think it''s your thing," she shrugs. "A normal high schooler would be slobbering all over somebody by senior year, but I''ve never seen you check out even the hottest of hotties, and you''ve certainly never complained about being single."


    "I try not to complain much in general," I tell her.


    "I know, sweetie," she says, patting me on the shoulder. "That''s why you need somebody like me to take care of you."


    I flush a little, looking away with embarrassment.


    "I really don''t know why you put up with me," I admit. I feel like a complete dead fish in our friendship. Chloe is always doing nice stuff for me, but I barely even think about her outside of school. I''m a bad conversationalist and an awful friend; I just kill monsters. It''s the only thing I''m good at.


    "Well, somebody ought to," Chloe shrugs. "And hey, wouldn''t you know it! I''m somebody! So there you go."


    I chuckle, shaking my head. I wonder if I saved her life, or a member of her family. Am I a bad person for not remembering? I want to ask, but even though the divider between my human self and my secret identity is barely more than a shredded curtain, I just can''t bring myself to do it.


    "I wonder if that''s why magical girls do it," Chloe continues, peeking through that curtain anyway. "Somebody has to, so how can you say no when you''re the only one who can?"


    I don''t have any idea what to say to that, so I latch onto the first subject change I can think of.


    "You really think I''m not interested in dating?" I ask.


    "Uh, yeah, why? Is that a surprise to you?"


    I mean, I just thought that I couldn''t relate to anyone. It''s kind of hard to get excited about movies and lunch dates and kisses when I''m staggering through the day because I can''t stay asleep through the pain and dreams.


    "Y''know, I actually just talked to my brother about this today?" I admit. "My whole life I''ve just taken for granted that I would be gay."


    She snorts her drink out her nose and doubles over into laughter, startling me enough that I would have reflexively cast a shield spell if I was transformed.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "Oh my god, Eliza," she says. "I know you don''t like to talk about it, but that makes it really obvious. You get that, right?"


    Yeah. I get that. It''s about the closest I can come to telling her the truth, even though she already knows.


    "I don''t know what you''re talking about," I lie, taking a sip from my drink as I grab a few napkins to hand to her. Her laughing and coughing fit made quite a mess. She accepts them gratefully, wiping down the area in front of her. "You might be onto something about my romantic orientation, though. And maybe my sexual orientation, too? Damn, now I actually have to think about it."


    Maybe that''s why I don''t feel uncomfortable in a child''s body. It would be really fucking awkward to be Minerva if I was actually in a relationship with someone, but I don''t want to be in a relationship in the first place, so I guess that isn''t a big deal? I mean, it''s still extremely weird and kind of creepy, but it''s not like I''m doing it on purpose. It just¡­ started happening one day.


    It started happening because I had to say yes.


    "Well, apologies for the sudden personal revelation, I suppose," Chloe says, still chuckling a little. "Or maybe ''you''re welcome?'' I honestly thought you knew."


    "I mean, the more I think about it, the more I feel like I probably should''ve known," I admit, scrunching my eyebrows together. "Like just¡­ huh. Yeah. It explains a lot."


    It''s a nice thing to know, assuming it''s true. I kind of want it to be true. It feels like a weight off of my shoulders. I don''t have to worry about finding a relationship that I''ve never really been interested in. It''s not something that''s wrong with me. It''s not the trauma crushing my ability to care about people. It''s not the nightmares, the anger, or the fear. It''s not just another part of me that''s broken.


    I really, really want that to be true.


    I glide through the rest of the day, school passing me by in flashes so brief and ephemeral that I may as well have not even shown up to class. My mind is too occupied by those corrupted magical girls and the threat they pose. I''m the oldest and most experienced Earth Guardian in the city. It''s my job to keep everyone safe, to stop the monsters before they can hurt anyone innocent. Up until now, Melpomene''s group has always been an enigmatic threat, a group of schemers that I would occasionally find at the end of a long trail, having already escaped before any real fight breaks out. Sometimes Anath would single me out and fight me, and I would kick her ass, and she''d run off. It was infuriating, but it never seemed like she was trying to kill me.


    Then, Uma''tama found new girls to empower. I was asked to lead and teach them against all good sense, and my transformations into Minerva started happening. I feel weaker now than ever before, my transformation stone muddying into a worthless brown. It''s not unheard of for an Earth Guardian''s transformation stone to change colors during a time of substantial emotional upheaval, but it''s usually because the new emotion becomes so overwhelmingly dominant over her former primary emotion that it forces a restructuring in the crystal to match her new level of strength. For everyone else, it''s a powerup, a moment of self-realization that allows a Guardian to transcend beyond their former self. But I didn''t get that. I just got another self, one that makes me even more confused, and she makes both halves of me that much weaker.


    I can''t afford that anymore. I don''t know if I was strong enough before Minerva to have stood a chance against that red mage, but I was definitely stronger than I am now. And I wouldn''t have been such a coward, either. I would have been able to put my life on the line.


    But it''s not about my life. It wasn''t just me that she was threatening, and I could never, ever, risk the life of those kids. Those were the stakes. That was my decision. I would die if it would save them, but would it have? No.


    ¡­I shouldn''t die for them anyway. Not if I can help it. They would never forgive me for that, and they would be right not to. No, the solution is the same as it has always been: I have to be stronger. And though I might be the most powerful Earth Guardian in town, it''s only by technicality. The girl whose shoes I''m trying to fill is still here, isn''t she? I don''t want to bother her, but¡­ at this point, I''m kind of desperate.


    After school, I wander onto the local college campus, heading for the dorms. I''m probably technically not supposed to be here, not yet being a college student and all, but nobody stops me because there is nothing weird about an eighteen-year-old girl walking around a college campus. I realize, as I walk up the stairs to Castalia''s dorm, that I don''t actually have any idea if she''s going to be there. She could be in class, she could be in the library, or she could even be out enjoying the life she''s earned for herself. I feel kind of stupid for not calling ahead, but instead of just sending her a text I continue over to her room and knock on the door. If she isn''t home, I''ll just leave. I don''t want to interrupt her if she''s actually out doing something.


    Fortunately, I feel the hum of her magic as my fingers rap against the door, and soon enough the knob turns and pulls open to reveal her floating in front of me. Her blank face doesn''t even twitch when she sees me, not a single emotion visible in either her blind or working eye. She lands on the ground, the door squeaking as it moves slowly under the effects of gravity, her telekinesis dropped.


    "Come in," she invites me, her voice dry and raspy. I follow her inside and close the door for her, collapsing onto her ratty couch when she gestures for me to do so. Her living space is honestly kind of nice by college dorm standards, with a separate bathroom and a kitchenette built into the back wall. It suddenly feels a lot less nice when you realize that it''s supposed to have two people in it, but for some reason the college has yet to assign Castalia a roommate. They''re probably afraid to. I know I would be.


    "You''re injured," Castalia states.


    "Yeah, I got pretty messed up. Nobody died, though."


    She nods, heading back into her little kitchenette and clattering around in the sink for something.


    "I was hoping I could get your advice for something," I tell her.


    "I advise not meeting with me in your human form," Castalia says, rinsing off a plate. "It will compromise your identity. I don''t really have anyone else coming to talk with me about things."


    "My identity is more or less shot," I shrug. "It''s an open secret."


    "Mmm," Castalia hums disapprovingly. "Well, it''s up to you. What did you want to ask?"


    She puts something in the microwave as I try to figure out exactly how I want to word the question. It''s fundamentally a very simple problem, it''s just somewhat embarrassing to say. I''m sure it''s a question Castalia has been asked a thousand times before, and if she could give an easy answer to it then I wouldn''t even be in this mess. Still, I have to try.


    "How am I supposed to replace you?" I ask.


    The microwave beeps, and Castalia removes its contents, hovering over to me and pulling her knees up to her chest to float her feet over the back of the couch. She plops down on the cushion next to me, placing a cooked hot pocket on the end table in front of us.


    "Want one?" she asks.


    I sigh and wave her off, spreading my arms and legs out in a futile attempt to sink into the couch and disappear.


    "I''m good," I tell her. She nods and begins to eat, gulping down large bites despite the rising steam and still-bubbling cheese. It''s only when she finally finishes that she turns to me and acknowledges my question, albeit in her roundabout way.


    "Can I see your transformation stone?" she asks.


    If literally anyone else in the world asked me that, except maybe Uma''tama, I would refuse categorically. This stone isn''t just mine, it''s me. I am more Fulgora and even Minerva than I''ve ever been Eliza. Without it, I die. But I think Castalia understands that. After all, I don''t even know the name she was given at birth. I don''t know what she looks like outside of her scarred incarnate form. Even in retirement, she has kept her stone, because she is Castalia and no other.


    So I pull the necklace up from underneath my bra and hold it out to her. Castalia''s magic wraps gently around it, flowing through it the way water leaks through the ground. It''s a terrifying thing to experience that much power moved so casually, pressed into something so close to my soul. My mind flashes back to that red healer, the sheer weight of the anger she put in the air. Why can''t I do that? How can I not be angry enough, after everything that''s happened?


    "I''m surprised you can cast at all with this," Castalia says bluntly, dropping the stone back into my hand. "A red-green lattice is probably tied for the least efficient emotional transmuter possible. Fear and anger oppose each other magically. It''s certainly not impossible to use well, but because the red parts don''t work well with the green parts and vice versa, you''re effectively fighting at half strength unless you are actively and directly using both emotions simultaneously. That will be¡­ difficult to do reliably."


    "I''m well aware," I frown. "I was hoping you''d have some idea of what to do about it."


    Castalia nods, still hugging her knees as she rocks back and forth slightly on the couch, thinking quietly. I clasp my transformation stone back around my neck, the anxiety of it being anywhere else mercifully vanishing from my shoulders.


    "You will have to do more with less," Castalia says. "In some ways, this might be a good thing for you. It''s good training."


    "What does that mean?" I ask. "How do I get more power out of less power?"


    "Steadiness of thought. Better alignment between the source and output of your spells. Everything you cast should be everything you want at the moment of casting. That, more than pure strength of emotion, is what allows you to do what you are already doing. Your experience makes using that stone possible. Anyone can push themselves to feel more strongly. Instead, feel more completely."


    But what if I can''t seem to decide how I feel about anything? I''m constantly arguing with myself about everything I want. The only thing I know for sure is that I need to be stronger.


    "That''s easier said than done," I frown.


    Castalia shrugs with the one shoulder that''s still able.


    "Isn''t everything?"


    The plate levitates itself off of the little end table, Castalia standing up to escort it back to the sink. I clench my fists, feeling like an idiot. ''That''s easier said than done?'' What a stupid thing to say. I''m just complaining about the problem instead of working towards solving it. I can''t afford that kind of childishness. I couldn''t even afford it when I was a child.


    "What got you hurt so bad, by the way?" Castalia asks. "You''re plenty strong enough to handle anything short of a kaiju by yourself."


    "Uma''tama called them the Corrupted," I say, and then I leap to my feet as the sound of shattering china rings out through the room. The plate Castalia was carrying is on the floor, dropped like her spell completely fizzled out. She stares at it, the same lack of expression on her face as always, but anyone who thinks that Castalia retired because she burned her emotions out is a fool. The weight of her power is like swimming a hundred miles under the ocean, the pressure enough to crunch me like a soda can. I am lucky, I think, that Castalia is a yellow mage, someone who normally casts with joy or love. I suspect that if this was her element, my soul would have been splattered into dust.


    And then, the feeling is gone.


    "Oh," Castalia says, and then the fragments of the broken plate lift up off of the floor and fuse back together like nothing ever happened. She sets it carefully into the sink to soak under warm water, her back to me as she stares intensely at a random part of the kitchen.


    "...I take it you''re familiar with them, then," I say carefully.


    "Yes," Castalia answers. "They are¡­ dangerous."


    "Whatever part of the Dark World they live in has been staying close to town for over a month now," I tell her. "Either that or they''re constantly hopping into whatever chunk is closest."


    "So you think you will need to fight them again," Castalia says, a small frown managing to make its way onto her face.


    "Exactly," I say. "I''m an Earth Guardian. I can''t allow myself to lose. It just isn''t an option. You know that, right? That efficiency tip, it''s good advice, and if that''s all you can teach me then I''ll happily take it. But it won''t change anything. It won''t be enough. There''s only so far skill can take me, isn''t there? Especially with a stone like mine. I feel like I''m up against a wall, something blocking me from going any further. But you''ve broken through that, haven''t you? You''ve smashed those limits."


    Castalia is quiet for a long time, a few more clanks in the kitchen accompanied by the sound of running water as Castalia uses her monster-annihilating magical power to do the dishes. I''m left there waiting for five, maybe ten minutes, but I don''t complain. I don''t really know Castalia all that well, except as the legend that she is. I was her junior for a little while, but we weren''t on the same team and she never interacted with me much. She was already a mess of scars by the time I met her, and somehow she speaks a lot more now than she did back then. Still, I don''t get the impression that she''s ignoring me. I can be patient, if it means learning about power from someone like her.


    Eventually, she finishes her chores and walks back to the couch, standing in front of me and staring rather than sitting down.


    "Show me yourself, Fulgora," she says.


    "Uh, I don''t really wanna bleed all over your couch," I hedge. I don''t really want to feel the full brunt of the pain from that body either, but that''s a secondary concern.


    "I can clean it," Castalia insists. "Show me."


    I sigh, sitting up into something resembling proper posture before initiating my transformation. It hurts like a motherfucker, my shoulder badly broken and still weeping blood along with multiple smashed ribs, and I don''t even know what kind of mess my gut is right now. My throat feels like burning blood, all iron and acid. Castalia regards my messed-up body with the same expression she always uses, kneeling down slightly and casting something that seems to tug my broken ribs around.


    This makes everything substantially more painful.


    "I saw you fight at Denver the other day," she says as I do my best to stoically choke down the whimpers and screams I want to let out. I''m pretty sure she''s trying to heal me, but even if she''s not I''m not really in a position to stop her. "You were strong. You did very well."


    "I could barely even scratch that giant monster, and then you showed up and annihilated it in one shot," I remind her.


    "Mmm. But that wasn''t the only monster. It is my understanding that you took out over a hundred on your own, stopping the swarms from making progress as the other girls fought the kaiju."


    "That''s not enough," I say, gritting my teeth. "I should have been able to do more. I was older than all of those girls."


    "But you knew your limits," Castalia says. "You knew exactly what you could and could not do, and as a consequence you made the biggest impact you could have. That is a rare skill. It will make you a very good leader."


    I flinch. Are you kidding? I have no idea what I''m doing.


    "At the end of the day, I still have to win," I insist. "It doesn''t do anyone any good for me to know my limits if those limits aren''t enough."


    Another sharp surge of pain crashes through my body, and then Castalia''s magic retreats. My injuries are all still there, blood seeping into the cushions. I think she probably just set my bones or something, to make recovery easier. I let go of my incarnate form, returning to human standard so that recovery can be done without losing quite as many fluids, and without quite as much pain.


    "Thank you," I nod to her.


    "If you want to break your limits, you''ll have to break yourself."


    I blink, a little caught off guard, but I force myself to think about that.


    "I appreciate the advice, but what does that mean exactly?" I ask. "I feel pretty darn broken, physically speaking."


    She sits down next to me and baps me in the face with her stub arm.


    "Not advice," she says. "It''s a warning. Train how the Preservers tell you to train. If you need more help, girls from other cities can help. You do not need to do everything on your own. You do not need to be me."


    The TV remote lifts itself into the air and turns on some news channel, which I take to mean that the conversation is over. I rub my cheek where she smacked me, scowling a little as I think back to everything she said. I wasn''t really expecting some sort of instant power-up trick or anything, but I was hoping for a little more than this. She''s basically telling me to stop trying, to just keep doing what I''ve always done even though it isn''t working. But I can''t accept that. If I have to break myself to become strong enough, I will. It''s not even a question. Of course, I still don''t know what that even means, so it''s not like I can just go do it¡ªor even purposefully avoid it, if I was so inclined. I''m really just back to where I started, no closer or farther away from finding the answer than before.


    That''s fine. It was good just coming here, to remind myself that there is a way. Castalia could swat that red mage like a fly, and she doesn''t need some kind of horrific dark transformation to do it. She''s the strongest there is, and it''s entirely her own power. That''s what I want. That''s what I need to find. I will never let anyone get hurt on my watch again.


    "¡ªthe evacuation forecast for today," the newscaster announces, catching my attention. "As you can see, there have been multiple reports in the area between Fort Collins and Windsor that could potentially be a follow-up from the same pocket that attacked Denver a few days ago. Whether another giant monster will be appearing or not remains to be seen, but if nothing else this is shaping up to be a large Dark World presence and the evacuation zones shown here are likely to be in effect as early as one in the morning tomorrow. If you or anyone you know lives in these areas, you might want to consider staying with friends or family tonight, so there''s no risk of a rude awakening if these projections turn out to be true."


    I sigh and slowly get to my feet, stretching my sore body even though I know most of the pain isn''t entirely real.


    "Well, it looks like I should probably go take a nap before tonight," I announce.


    "Looks like it," Castalia agrees. "Best of luck, Fulgora. Or¡­ Minerva?"


    I stiffen a little.


    "I didn''t know you knew," I admit.


    She just responds with another half-shrug, levitating a bag of chips over and cradling it carefully between her knees. I shake my head, not entirely sure what I was expecting. It is Castalia, after all.


    "Yeah, I''ll probably be Minerva tonight, if only because Fulgora is still a mess," I confirm. "Thanks for your help, though."


    "You are welcome to come back, if you wish," Castalia says. "I don''t get many visitors."


    "I''ll see if I have time," I answer noncommittally, heading for the door. "Bye, Castalia. Thanks again."


    "Mmm."


    I exit and descend down the stairs, discontentment swirling in my chest as I make my way home. There is a way to get stronger. It''s demonstrably possible. I just have to find it.


    No one else is strong enough, so I don''t have a choice.

 10. Chaperone

    Unfortunately, the first thing I learn when researching how to access the internet is that I can''t access the internet.


    I expected this, of course. My radio capabilities are receiver-only, so listening in on what other people are doing was always going to be my limit. Even that is a bit of a challenge, but I''m working through it. If nothing else, I''m learning which frequencies of radio waves correspond to which function. I can sort out in my mind what a signal is, at least, and that goes a long way to calming the anxiety about potentially missing something important.


    Unfortunately, knowing what I''m missing doesn''t stop me from missing basically everything. I can now play every public radio station in my head simultaneously, which is in fact actually quite awful, but I''m pretty sure there is a part of my mind partitioned off to recording it all anyway. The vast supermajority of radio traffic is encrypted, though, and while my wiki walk has given me enough information to understand what a successfully decrypted packet might look like, I have yet to crack anything. Honestly, I''m not sure if I want to be able to listen in on everyone else''s current internet usage, but I still feel the back of my mind chewing through brute-force decryption methods like a half-dissolved jawbreaker.


    I have no idea what my hardware is capable of, but I do know that simulating a human mind is so far beyond our current technological capabilities that it''s silly. I get the feeling that if I were a betting girl, I should bet on myself.


    A rustling sound and groan pull my mind away from the phone and towards where Anath squirms slightly on the ground. Nanaya glances her way as well, the mutant woman having been watching me carefully this whole time without comment. With another groan, Anath''s eyes flutter open, and apparently her first response to being awake is to try and sit up.


    "No," Nanaya says firmly, stepping closer and pressing her palm down on Anath''s collarbone to keep her on the ground.


    "M''fine," Anath mumbles.


    "I will never let you be the judge of that again," Nanaya answers flatly.


    "That''s what you said last time," Anath complains.


    "Yes," Nanaya agrees. "And have I at any point today trusted your judgment?"


    "Mean. Terrible."


    "Would you rather I just let you kill yourself?" Nanaya snaps. "No. I won''t let you. One way or another, I am dragging you home alive."


    "Aww, you like me," Anath grins, her teeth still stained red from a mix of Fulgora''s blood and her own.


    "I tolerate you," Nanaya scowls. "Begrudgingly. Now, you need to eat."


    "Oh! I got food!" Anath announces proudly. "I did a whole supply run! I can be responsibibble."


    Nanaya raises an eyebrow, then walks over to me and yanks the backpack off of my back. She unzips it and turns it upside down, disgorging the entire collection of jalape?o Cheetos and Gatorade. She stares at the sad little pile for a solid ten seconds before sighing and grabbing one of the bottles of Gatorade, twisting the cap off before kneeling down to help Anath sit up.


    "Well, you certainly need to hydrate, I suppose. Yet I cannot help but notice you did not, in fact, get any food."


    "Yes I did! I got a bunch of¡ªablublublurb."


    "Drink," Nanaya snaps, forcing the bottle up to Anath''s mouth. "You. Artifact. If I order you not to obey anything she says, would that order work?"


    Hmm. That''s a good question. Ultimately, it''s a judgment call about what I think Melpomene would want me to do, so¡­ yes, I think that would work. Nanaya is a bit rough with her, but it''s clear that she cares a lot more about Anath''s well-being than Anath appears to, and I have reason to believe that Melpomene cares to some extent as well. I nod.


    "Hey!" Anath complains.


    "Anath," Nanaya continues, "if I leave, and this thing turns on us, could you make it to me?"


    "Of course I¡ª"


    "Anath," Nanaya snaps. "Consider the question more carefully."


    Anath pauses, a series of various offended expressions flashing over her face in sequence. Then, her eyebrows furrow and she starts taking a long drink from the Gatorade bottle, her eyes locked on me. She finishes her drink, takes a deep breath, and continues staring at me for another half-minute before finally answering.


    "...I think so," she answers, a lot of her prior mirth gone from her voice. "I know I''m not the best judge of my capabilities right now, but I think your patch job is enough for me to outrun Buttbot here. She''s a good runner and a great jumper, but she''s never used real speed for anything other than short bursts. Worst-case scenario, I have more than enough magic to make sure you know where to find us."


    Nanaya nods, taking a hijab out from her cloak and wrapping her head up in it, pulling the large collar of her robe up to cover her mouth and nose. It''s hardly a perfect disguise, given her red eyes, but unless people look too closely or she casts enough magic for them to start glowing she can probably get away with walking around in public without anyone crying monster.


    "Then I will get us some actual food to help you heal, and you can have your treats¡ª" she motions at the Cheetos "¡ªafter we are home safe."


    "Aww, what!?" Anath whines. "But you said we won''t be able to go home for days!"


    "Then perhaps you will take the opportunity to learn some patience," Nanaya says flatly. "Artifact. You will not allow Anath to stand up. You will not allow her to move from that spot. You will not allow her to eat anything I don''t approve of. You will not allow her to come to any further harm. You will not allow her to be located by our enemies. Is all of that clear?"


    I nod. It all seems simple enough.


    "Good. If you fail any of these tasks, I will destroy you and Melpomene will thank me for it. I will return shortly."


    She locates the wad of money that Anath stole and spirits it away to the inside of her robes. I watch her hand with too many fingers split apart, three fingers including a thumb peeling away from the eight to reveal that her already-thin arms are actually multiple arms pressed together, interlocked into what appears to be a single limb. I would not describe her current hand configuration to look exactly human, but it at least has four fingers and one thumb. What the hell is going on underneath that robe of hers?


    She departs before I can wonder further, leaving me alone with Anath. Not ten seconds after Nanaya is out of sight, she attempts to lunge for the Cheetos. I scoot forward and push her back, carefully collecting the bags and putting them back into the backpack so I can more easily seal them away.


    "Noooooo!" Anath begs. "Come on, Buttbot, we can talk about this!"


    No we fucking can''t!? I tighten my grip on her shoulder to demonstrate my irritation in the only way I really can.


    "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!" she whines. "Help! Help! I am coming to further harm!"


    I push her away, quickly finishing my objective of locking the cheesy treats away forever. Hearing her say those words is actually very uncomfortable, and I struggle to convince myself that they are an exaggeration. Nanaya doesn''t seem to have any problem inflicting a little bit of pain on Anath in the service of making her behave, but does that mean she would approve of me doing so? Does that mean Melpomene would approve? Probably not. They''re Anath''s allies, maybe her friends. I''m their slave. The social dynamics aren''t exactly comparable.


    Frustration and regret pool inside me, slowly causing my energy reserves to tick upwards. The regret washes through my system cleanly, barely a dozen degrees west of my true south crystal configuration, but in the same way I can feel its efficiency I can feel the loss from the anger. Nearly half of the potential energy escapes from the crystal pathways between my soul and my power storage, collecting as waste in the air gaps within me. There isn''t really a lot of it, nowhere near as much as what I tend to accumulate in combat, but I see no reason not to purge it so I open some of the plating near my waist and let the thin red wisps out of my body with a hiss.


    Anath suddenly stops complaining and goes silent, her attention locked on me with a frown. I stare back at her, not really sure what else I''m supposed to do.


    "...Huh," Anath hums. "That''s weird. I usually don''t feel anything from you, but¡­ open your thingies again."


    I don''t do that. I have been instructed to ignore any of Anath''s orders. I mean, technically I wasn''t directly ordered to do that, I was only asked if such an order would be applicable, but again I am not some fantasy demon beholden to the exact wording of contracts. I am fundamentally bound to serve my master to the absolute best of my ability, using only my most genuine interpretations of what I believe her will to be. Orders given to me are not commands branded into my body, they are simply explicitly clear expressions of my master''s will, communicated in a manner intended to avoid ambiguity.


    As such, I''m fairly certain that Nanaya doesn''t want me to listen to Anath''s orders, because otherwise why would she have asked? I suppose I could make the argument that Nanaya is clearly a very intentional sort of person. It is possible that the explicit orders she gave me after asking that question are evidence that the absence of phrasing her question as an order means she really was just checking if it was possible, not deciding to actually order it. Really, I think the main thrust of her objective was to ensure that Anath couldn''t countermand the orders given for me to protect her, so if an order doesn''t relate to that objective then arguably I should still follow it¡­?


    Huh, that''s actually a pretty good argument. Now I''m genuinely not sure, which is always nice because it means I get to care about the question ''what do I want to do?'' I guess I don''t really mind one way or another, so hey, why not? It gives me something to do, and I have to find some way to entertain myself while I''m not being abused. I open up my thingies.


    "Oh yeah, there it is," Anath says, wrinkling her nose. "Geez, you seemed irritated before but now you just smell like hopelessness. Have you ever tried to fight somebody aligned with hopelessness? Terrible experience, do not recommend. Those girls are terrifying before they die."


    I stare at her, not particularly liking any of the things that could possibly mean.


    "Wow, I really thought you didn''t have emotions before, but I guess you''re just keeping it inside somehow? I bet that feels like a fart you can''t let out. Oh! Oh yeah, there you go. Yeah, it''s really faint, but you''re in there somewhere, huh? Neat."


    I¡­ just like that? She can feel¡­ no, wait. Weapons don''t have feelings, right? But Melpomene''s allies already know, so maybe it''s fine to keep my plates open, to keep showing this crazy monster that yes, I am here, I do feel hopeless. Please help me. Somehow, please help me. I am truly desperate enough to beg even you.


    "Man, you smell terrible," Anath says, taking another sip of Gatorade.


    Wh¡­ is that it? I want to laugh. Of course. I don''t know what I was expecting, really. I''m one of the bad guys. I wouldn''t be a slave if their organization had basic moral decency. Of course she doesn''t care. Why would she care?


    "Sorry," Anath mumbles. "I never get along well with blue mages. But hey, welcome to the team. You''re stuck babysitting me and that''s enough of an initiation rite as far as I''m concerned."


    I stare at her, because of course I do. What the hell? Now I¡¯m getting camaraderie from the slave driver who wanted to beat the shit out of me? God, I mean, this is objectively a good thing. I¡¯d go insane if everybody only treated me like Nanaya and Melpomene do, but it¡¯s kind of sad that this is my better option, isn¡¯t it? I don¡¯t even know if I can stay mad, this emotion-reading trick is the closest I¡¯ve had to an actual conversation since this whole thing started.


    "¡­Okay, that was a little too complicated for me," Anath says. "Sorry, can you try not to feel too many things at once?"


    Oh I¡¯m fucking sorry, I should have known that you and your friends would want to control that too. Try not to feel too many things at once? How the hell am I even supposed to do that? This entire experience is too many things at once!


    "Heh. Wait, you don¡¯t know how? Are you sure you¡¯re a magical weapon?"


    Yes! I mean no! Fuck!


    "Kehehe! You¡¯re kinda funny, Buttbot. Mel¡¯s taken a real shine to you, so I hope we get to work together a bunch in the future!"


    Ugh. I definitely don¡¯t. But until I figure out some way to have a say in the matter, I guess I should get used to it. I close my external plating back up, because while part of me is desperate to continue having any sort of interpersonal interaction, I¡¯m ultimately still the same shitty Luna who can barely handle more than one in-person conversation a day. I don¡¯t even know what I would try to say to her, even if I could reliably make myself understood. ''Help me?'' She clearly isn''t interested, and what could she do if she was? Thea is my only real hope for freedom, but she probably wouldn''t go against Melpomene for my sake. The two of them have clearly been friends for a long time, so what does that say about Thea? I probably shouldn''t even trust her.


    Then again, I definitely shouldn''t lose hope. Anath said that girls powered by hopelessness are terrifying to fight, and I absolutely don''t want to get any better at fighting.


    Anath seems to understand that sealing my emotional leakage back up means I don''t want to talk anymore, so she sits in silence and rehydrates while I pass the time trying to decrypt what I''m pretty sure is a single packet of data. If I want to, I can consciously bring to mind every step I''m taking, every technique I''m trying, every calculation I''m running, but that makes time pass slower, not faster. Instead, I just let some of the resources that normally go towards keeping my mind up to speed reallocate themselves towards decryption, my thoughts slowing down and the world around me speeding up as the math rolls around comfortably in my subconscious. It''s weirdly relaxing. Just robot things, I guess.


    The precise degree of control I have over myself and many aspects of my mind is comforting, particularly in regards to how much control I have lost in other places but also in general. I guess I haven''t really been a robot long enough to know if my executive function issues and all the other mental problems I had as a human will rear their ugly heads back up, but so far the question of whether or not I can do something has been decided exclusively by limits imposed on me by other people, not my own inadequacies. Everything I have tried to do, I have succeeded at. There''s a certain joy in that realization, even though the things I''m being made to do are kind of awful.


    Eventually, Nanaya returns, bags of food and likely a few other essentials in each hand. Anath immediately starts to say something, but Nanaya just hands her an entire rotisserie chicken so whatever words Anath was about to say are quickly swallowed up alongside it. Rather unsurprisingly, Anath eats like a starving dog. Loud crunches periodically echo off the walls as her teeth snap bones so she can suck out the marrow.


    Nanaya does another checkup on Anath while she eats, apparently taking the opportunity to ensure that the hyperactive girl''s attention is fully occupied while she does so. It''s only after she finishes that Nanaya herself sits down to eat, pulling out a plastic container full of what appears to be some kind of beef and vegetable stew. She pulls up a corner of the lid and magic flows out of her, an irritated look on her face as she appears to glower at the stew until it gets hot again. When steam starts to come out of the open corner, she carefully removes the lid and drinks the stew directly from the container without spilling a single drop.


    "Thank you for not running off again, Anath," Nanaya rumbles.


    Anath shrugs.


    "I think I''m starting to calm down," she says. "Sorry for making you run off after me again."


    "Mmm. We all have our own troubles."


    "Yeah, but yours don''t make me chase you to Earth at ass o''clock in the morning because your brain got temporarily clogged up with stupid."


    Now it is Nanaya''s turn to shrug.


    "It is not your fault. My offer to raid a pharmacy and see if any of the relevant prescriptions work for you remains."


    "...I don''t wanna raid a pharmacy, man," Anath sighs. "People need that stuff. It''s not worth it for something that probably wouldn''t work. What''s the recommended dosage for a three-hundred-pound squirrel monster with crystals growing out of her ass?"


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    "Mmm."


    I listen to the whole conversation in somewhat of a daze, my mind still churning away with algorithms and radio signals. Already done eating, Nanaya starts pulling out some of her purchases from the bags¡ªbottled water, cleaning supplies, hygiene products, and other essentials¡ªbefore stuffing them inside her cloak and presumably keeping them in pockets somewhere within. Then, she starts taking some things out of her cloak, but these aren''t things I recognize.


    The first looks like a large glass tube encased in a metal cage, the whole thing about as tall as my forearm is long. The metal is a deep black color, but it doesn''t look particularly supernatural or imposing. The cage actually seems more like a frame, designed to mount the glass tube onto something.


    The second looks like a simple bracelet, but unlike the first object I can immediately tell that it''s not of human design. The natural flow of magical energy in the air is next to nonexistent on Earth, but not completely nonexistent, and the moment Nanaya pulls out the bracelet those currents start shifting towards it. Something about it tickles at the back of my mind, and I can''t help but stand up and head over for a closer look.


    Kneeling down, I can see that the bracelet is a mix of what appears to be fabric and crystal, but upon closer inspection (go go gadget microscope eyes) it''s clearly something far more durable than cloth. Which I suppose makes sense; this is obviously an Antipathy artifact, and therefore whatever it is somehow survived an apocalypse. What''s especially strange to me is that the crystals woven around the circumference of the bracelet are all black. It''s not a color I''ve seen related to magic before, outside of the black mist that clogs all visibility in so much of the Dark World. Most interesting to me of all, though, are the words engraved on the inside of the bracelet.


    They''re instructions. Pretty simple ones, actually. You just have to rotate the safety and activation bands to start it up. The minimum magical energy requirements listed aren''t very high. Based on the aesthetics of the design¡­ I''m not entirely sure why, but I get the impression that it''s some kind of shield? The way it''s affecting the magical currents while in standby mode indicates that it''s almost certainly still functional. I reach out without thinking about it, curious to investigate it further, but before I can touch it I find Nanaya''s hand (hands?) wrapped firmly around my wrist.


    "What do you want, artifact?" she asks, staring intently at me.


    Oh, right. They probably don''t want their untrustworthy magical superweapon messing with other potential magical superweapons. Not that they have a good reason not to trust me; I literally can''t hurt any of them. I gently attempt to pull my hand back and Nanaya releases me, letting me sit back on my own calves and give her a good old patented Luna stare. I can only answer yes or no questions! You already know this!


    Nanaya frowns and carefully picks up the artifact between a finger and thumb.


    "Do you know what this is?" she asks.


    Eh, only kind of? I lean to the left and right a couple times to try and indicate a so-so answer.


    "Do you know how to use it?" she asks.


    I nod.


    "Show me."


    I reach out and accept the artifact from Nanaya, making sure to move slowly in order to avoid being perceived as threatening. The solid rings wrapping around the circumference of the bracelet act as the controls, and I rotate the one the instructions indicate to be the safety ring into the off position before partially turning the activation ring to and from its on position, never actually activating it. I don''t really have any idea what will happen when it turns on, and while I doubt something like this could hold anywhere near enough magical energy to cause a major issue, that certainly doesn''t mean it''s harmless. Nanaya watches me carefully the entire time, her intent gaze not leaving me even when I hand the bracelet back to her.


    "Hmm," is all she says in response as she deftly double-checks that the device is in the off position before spinning the safety on. Oh. I guess she already knew?


    "It seems there is to be a convergence tonight," Nanaya says. "Since the path back to our home just disappeared, it likely isn''t any fragment of the Dark World that we care about. But it will distract the local Guardians, and since we are stuck on Earth regardless we may as well get some errands done."


    She pulls an entire hoodie and a pair of sweatpants out of her cloak somehow and throws them both at me. While I am trying to figure out how she kept any of them in there, she also beans me in the head with a pair of shoes.


    "You should easily be able to pass as human in the dark," Nanaya tells me. "Put those on and get used to wearing them. Anath is much more difficult to disguise because of her tail, but she is adept at other forms of stealth."


    "I keep tellin'' you, Nanaya, just get me one of those big fursuit heads and everybody''ll think the rest of it is a costume," Anath insists.


    "And I keep telling you, Anath, that we don''t have that kind of money," Nanaya says flatly.


    "What are you talking about!? We''re like gajillionaires!"


    "All of that money is in use," Nanaya insists. "Even if it wasn''t, a thousand dollars is still too steep a price for a supposed stealth tool that will make you more visible."


    "Laaame!" Anath groans, flopping backwards onto the concrete. "Come on, Nanaya, just think about it! A giant version of my head that I can wear on my head! How could you possibly not want to own one?"


    "If one thing is certain, Anath, it is that you don''t need to get a bigger head."


    Honestly, I''d be more worried about what would happen if the furry community figured out that Anath used to be a human before she started living in the Dark World. I''ve been online long enough to know how many people would take that gamble, and I''ve been a robot long enough to know it would kill every single one of them. I''m starting to see that one of the biggest reasons we need magical girls is because of how quickly humans die in the Dark World.


    "Rest for now," Nanaya tells Anath. "If you aren''t healed by tonight we''ll miss our window. And you, artifact. Do you require anything to operate? Fuel, perhaps?"


    Well, I''m relatively low on power reserves but that has been the case since this started, so I shake my head.


    "Hmm. Well, it is unlikely you will be needed for anything strenuous tonight, but you should save as much power as you are able, in case any fools overestimate themselves."


    I nod, taking the suggestion as an order. I''m not particularly opposed to a nap, or my current closest equivalent. I suppose I could also just allocate more resources to cracking encryption and let the time fly by, but that would obviously take more energy than just entering¡­ man, it sounds kind of dumb to say ''entering sleep mode'' instead of just ''going to sleep,'' but yeah, I guess I enter sleep mode now. Beep boop.


    I let my systems wind down, and the next thing I know the sun has long set. My logs indicate that I have restarted because Nanaya looked at me and said "artifact," which is known to be a form of direct address. It has been exactly fifty-four thousand, two hundred and fifty-three seconds since my rest began (I used to know about how long a second is, but now I know exactly how long a second is. According to Wikipedia, a second is exactly nine billion, one hundred and ninety-two million, six hundred and thirty-one thousand, seven hundred and seventy periods of radiation corresponding to the transition between the two hyperfine levels of the ground state of the Cesium-133 atom. Cesium-133 is the only stable isotope of Cesium, and while my records don''t know the word ''Cesium,'' they are aware of the atom with fifty-five protons and its only stable isotope. Why? I don''t know. I''m full of all sorts of weird information. Like Pyulors!) or fifteen point zero seven zero two seven repeating hours. I''m a calculator!


    I''ve apparently been sitting seiza the entire time, but I suppose one of the advantages of being a robot is that I never get sore sitting in a weird position. I could, hypothetically, strain my joints if I pushed the edge of their flexibility range for too long, but this is fine. I turn my head towards Nanaya to indicate that I am listening, spotting her and Anath standing up near the exit to our little squatting home.


    Anath lets out a low whistle.


    "Creepy little fucker," she says with a grin.


    Can I flip her off? Ugh, it counts as communication. Damn.


    "Get dressed. It is time to go," Nanaya rumbles.


    Oh yeah, the clothes. I used to wear this kind of outfit all the time when I was a human being, but shrugging on the familiar second skin is a lot less of a comfort now that I''m significantly less hideous. That¡­ well, that''s a thought I should definitely save for later and possibly for never.


    Also something I shouldn''t think about: putting on clothes has made me realize that I have been naked this whole time. I mean, I obviously knew that, but now I''m actually kind of embarrassed by it. I guess I probably shouldn''t be; I''m about as titillating as a mall mannequin. The outfit is also a little too big for me, turning an already baggy set of clothes into a veritable mountain of fabric. Even the shoes flop loosely on my feet, though I do my best to tie them as tightly as I can. At least the length of it all removes any need for gloves or socks to cover up the exposed bits of metal that would otherwise give me away. I mean, I guess my whole face is still robotic, but that could be chalked up to a mask by anyone who doesn''t already know what I am, and I think those are the only kinds of people this disguise is intended to fool.


    Still, it''s kind of nice wearing clothes again. It''s not something I ever expected to miss at any point in my life, but here we are. It makes me feel more like a person, more like someone who deserves intrinsic respect. It''s easier to cling to that dream, within the cozy confines of the hoodie.


    I''ve always kind of liked hoodies that are a little too big anyway, the kind that dangles a few inches past my fingertips and flops around whenever I move my arms. I pull the hood up and briefly entertain myself by seeing how fast my body can flip the dangly sleeves up and down, creating a miniature fan in front of my face for a few seconds before I realize Anath and Nanaya are both staring at me. I quickly return my arms to my sides and stare back.


    "Let us be off, then," Nanaya says. "Stay out of sight, Anath."


    "I will, I will," Anath sighs, jumping straight up and leaving my field of vision.


    Nanaya turns and starts walking off, which I take as my cue to follow her. I''d be lying if I said that walking the pitch-black nighttime streets is a new experience for me (I never really got the hang of sleeping when I was more organically inclined) but it''s odd to look at everything with such startling clearness, as if it wasn''t even night at all. Nanaya is quiet as we walk towards the business district of town, leaving me to focus on the beauty of the clear night, the sounds of wind and cars and crickets, and the lingering smell of both Nanaya herself and Anath on my hoodie.


    That last one is uncomfortably intimate, like wearing these clothes means that I''m intruding on something, but I also want to focus on how interesting my new concept of smell is. Like all of my senses, my body filters them through the past experiences of my mind and picks out memories of qualia to associate them with, but if I consciously look deeper I know that I''m actually just picking out relative concentrations of chemicals in the air. That''s all smell is for anyone, I suppose, but the difference between knowing that and knowing that is starker than I expected. After all, if I want to, I can stop experiencing the qualia entirely, but that doesn''t disable my sense of smell. To a human, the qualia is the sense, the qualia is what defines the sense, the qualia is what made us come up with the word ''sense'' in the first place. We know that the chemicals in the air and the receptors in our noses are how the sense works, but that is not the sense itself. Not for a human.


    Chemical composition data is objectively more useful than qualia, though. What used to be a fundamental aspect of my world now exists only for sentimentality. It''s frightening, it''s alien, but it''s interesting. I kind of like knowing all the different chemicals floating around me at any given time, even if I don''t know the names for most of them (or at least not their English names). My thoughts are so much clearer now. The world around me is so much clearer now. Every moment from my transformation until now has either been absolute wonder or absolute horror. It''s terrible, what''s happening to me is truly terrible, but¡­


    If I was given the option to be human again, I think I would be too terrified to say yes.


    Really, when I think about it, my human body was its own kind of slavery. Enslaved to the need to eat, the need to shit, the need to sleep, the need to muster every last ounce of energy I had just to get out of bed again. I was a slave to my own mind, to my laundry list of mental disorders both diagnosed and unknown, to the point where simply trying to be myself was an exercise in pain and agony. Inadequacy. Embarrassment. Ridicule. Self-hate. I''m a slave now, but wasn''t I a slave before? The only thing that''s changed is my master, and the particular brand of punishment that she prefers.


    I''m already used to this, aren''t I? The transition was easy. I can''t talk now, but I never did before. I can''t do anything without someone making me do it, but I never could before. God, maybe I''m better off than I used to be. At least I can blame someone else for my problems.


    My power reserves have increased to 26%.


    When we make it to the business district, we''re no longer the only ones around. A smattering of humans wander between bars and late-night shops, but Nanaya confidently strolls past them so I do the same, uncaring of what they see or if they find it strange. Most people ignore us, too drunk or too engaged in a conversation with their friends to pay us much attention, but the occasional worried stare focuses in our direction, catching Nanaya''s red eyes or the lack of space my ''mask'' has to actually hold a head inside. But when people look our way, Nanaya just gives them a polite nod, which I copy. That ever-reliable human social instinct inevitably kicks in and they nod back, not making a fuss. Would somebody up to no good share a polite nod with a stranger? Well I mean, clearly yes, but it gets the job done all the same.


    Eventually, she leads me down a staircase to one of those basement bars that tend to get built underneath much more reputable-looking establishments. I''m still a birthday away from legal bar hopping, but even if I was a year older or more criminally inclined I''d probably be too socially anxious anyway. My point is, I might not be the best judge, but this place looks like an absolute shithole. The floors are covered in crumbs and stains, the tables are greasy, and though the bartender behind the counter is stereotypically polishing a glass, he doesn''t seem to be accomplishing anything besides smudging it further. Maybe this is just my first time entering anything restaurant-adjacent with clear enough vision to actually see all this stuff, but the rest of the city seems to share my opinion about the low quality of this place because it is absolutely empty. There''s no one here but us and the bartender.


    Nanaya doesn''t even seem interested in the bartender. Without so much as looking at him, she walks past the counter and pushes open a door marked ''Employees Only'' and steps through. I follow her, and the bartender doesn''t even try to acknowledge us, let alone stop us. On the other side is a concrete hallway with a few ratty doors, including two bathrooms which I suppose the establishment has decided should not be open to the public. It''s like they''re actively trying to keep customers away.


    Then Nanaya knocks on one of the doors, and after a voice invites us in I realize that is probably exactly what they are trying to do. Inside, a short, slightly baby-faced man sits behind a fancy-looking desk in a far cleaner room. There is no indication of what this room might be used for; it appears at first to be an office, but there''s no computer, not even a pencil. Just a blank room with a blank desk, immaculately cleaned and positioned so that a second door waits behind the man, giving him an easy way out and a clear way in to whatever the actual operations of this place likely are.


    The man''s eyebrows raise in surprise as we enter, but a calm smile remains on his face to indicate the surprise is neither severe nor unwelcome. It seems like a very practiced expression.


    "Savior!" The man greets, looking at Nanaya. "Welcome, welcome. I wasn''t expecting you today."


    "It is a slight change to the usual plans, but I was hoping you would not mind," Nanaya says.


    "Not at all, not at all!" he assures her before turning to direct his smile at me. "And who might you be? I''m afraid I don''t recall making your acquaintance."


    I stare at him, and of course say nothing.


    "Remove your hood, artifact," Nanaya orders, and I comply. The man raises his eyebrows once again, and his smile gets wider.


    "Artifact?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice. "This? This is nothing like the artifacts you''ve offered us previously."


    "And it is nothing like the artifacts I am offering you today," Nanaya answers flatly. "No matter how much you have to bargain with, I guarantee that you cannot pay its worth."


    "You tease me by showing me you have such a prize," the man complains playfully. "I was not aware artifacts like this even existed."


    "We keep many artifacts that we do not show you, but you are correct," Nanaya says. "It is truly one of a kind, so far as we have found. But I do not think you will be disappointed in what I have on offer today."


    Nanaya reaches into her cloak and removes the bracelet from before, as well as something that looks kind of like a baton. It''s about a foot long and maybe two fingers thick (that''s what she said), and it appears to be a cylinder of black metal parts encasing a red crystal core, barely visible peeking out the top of the device. The end without the crystal visible has a spiral groove dug into it, like an enlarged drill bit, and some part of me intuitively understands that it has the same circular ring safety at its base and a deployable firing trigger near the middle. The end with the red crystal exposed is clearly intended to be pointed towards something the wielder doesn''t like.


    Depending on your perspective, it''s either a magic wand or a high-tech gun. A magic gun, perhaps. It looks really painful and uncomfortable to actually hold with that weird-shaped hilt, but I know that definitely is the hilt. Unlike the bracelet, there aren''t any instructions engraved into the outside of this device, only a series of Antipathy numerals that I''m guessing are a serial number.


    "A personal shielding device, ambient-powered," Nanaya says, indicating the bracelet. "It should be usable without training, though when active it will have a noticeable deleterious effect on the emotions of everyone within approximately thirty meters. This, of course, makes it doubly effective against magical assault."


    "An incredible find," the man hums happily.


    "A personal offensive sidearm, anger-powered," Nanaya says, indicating the gun-wand. "This will place significantly more emotional strain on the user, so care should be taken by whoever wields it. In the right hands, however, it should be usable with minimal training. It has advantages over modern-day firearms in both stopping and penetrative power, but also in flexibility. The weapon understands the user''s intent when it is fired, and if their will is clear it can be used to stun, disable, or murder without manual adjustment. It is also self-aiming; so long as it is pointed in the general direction of the target and that target is clear in the mind of the wielder, it will hit."


    "Hmm. Much more limited in potential buyers, both because of its requirements and its nature as a weapon. Two hundred million for the wand, half a billion for the shield."


    Holy shit.


    "Must we go through this tedium every time?" Nanaya sighs. "That would be a generous price from you, were these not obviously far superior to our usual offerings."


    "Diminishing returns, I''m afraid. I only have so many buyers for this kind of thing, and it will be tough finding one for each of them."


    "You need only find one. They obviously work best as a set. One point five billion, for both."


    Holy shit.


    "Hey now, I still need to turn a profit here. Nine hundred million."


    "I think you''ll find that certain individuals will be more inclined towards high spending than usual shortly after our transaction. One point two billion."


    "Hmm. Tell you what, I''ll take them for an even billion and skip the fun part of the bargaining next time around."


    "Agreed," Nanaya says immediately, pulling a sheet of paper out from her robe and passing it over to the man. I see a lot of names and dollar amounts on it. The man accepts it and gives it a quick read, nodding to himself.


    "A few new names on here. We''ll have the usual risk charge for testing the waters."


    "That is fine," Nanaya says. "Feel free to tell the governor that if he doesn''t like the taste of the carrot, we can always use the stick."


    "I imagine I can make that sound convincing," the man says, his smile straining slightly. "The usual account for the remainder?"


    "Yes," Nanaya nods. "I know it is not our usual schedule, but could you rush our delivery to tomorrow night? I will be in town, so it will be easier to pick up then."


    "That shouldn''t be a problem," the man nods. "Pleasure doing business with you, Savior."


    "I''m sure," Nanaya dismisses, and then turns away without another word, leaving the man with the paper and the other artifacts. We exit together, returning to the still-empty bar, walking back up the grungy stairs, and heading towards whatever our next destination happens to be tonight. The whole time, I''m still reeling over everything I just saw and learned. Melpomene and the others are selling artifact weapons from an ancient, hyper-advanced civilization and then using the money to¡­ bribe people? Politicians, presumably? Maybe more than just politicians? Bribing them to do what?


    We aren''t just the enemy of the magical girls and the Preservers. We''re also apparently a multi-billion-dollar criminal organization influencing state and possibly national politics. Maybe international politics. And after all the bribes, there''s still some left over. That''s¡­ that''s just absolutely insane. I have no idea what to do with this information.


    Even more crazy, I find myself in complete agreement with Anath. Where the hell does Nanaya get off calling a fursuit head too expensive?

 11. Collecting Fuel

    A monster and a robot stalk the nighttime streets of downtown. What crimes shall we commit?


    I''m making mental bets. It''s an interesting enough way to pass the time, and I can even kind of convince myself that it counts as learning how to better anticipate the desires of my master, which somehow makes the whole thing a little less stressful to do. I guess that''s just what happens when your brain runs on robotic servant architecture. I''m trying not to worry about it, which is to say I''m burning the parts of me that are worried about it for fuel and feeling a lot better about myself as a consequence. I might be trapped in a torture chamber, but damn does it come with incredible antidepressants.


    What was I thinking about? Oh, right. Crimes. I''m far too gay to have a particularly high opinion of the American justice system, so being a criminal in and of itself is hardly a dealbreaker for me. I''m less sure how I feel about apparently being a member of the magical black market mafia that uses their earnings from selling illegal alien technology to bribe or otherwise coerce politicians into¡­ something? I guess my entire opinion about this whole thing depends on what that something is. I don''t exactly have high hopes about it being good, though.


    Nanaya stops by another gas station and buys another rotisserie chicken, throwing it up towards the rooftops once we''re outside. It doesn''t fall back down. From there, we start moving out of the business district into a more residential area, a nicer part of town where the lawns are green, the trees are trimmed, and the gardens are meticulously managed by people who are probably receiving less than minimum wage. It is onto one of these beautiful lawns that Nanaya casually leads me, walking up to a hedge of bushes and shoving her arms inside, down near the roots.


    I peer over her shoulder, and spot a device that looks almost identical to that caged glass tube Nanaya showed me earlier. It''s planted firmly in the earth, hidden entirely by the hedge so that it can sit on the ground directly outside a fancy two-story house. Other than being quite dirty, the only difference between this device and the one Nanaya showed me earlier is that this tube is full of swirling purple mist.


    Nanaya unlatches the tube from the cage, collecting it and spiriting it away into her robes before replacing it with an empty one. Then she latches it all back together, ensures the bush is once again hiding it, and walks away.


    Well! That''s a bit suspicious and weird. We wander around the neighborhood for a little longer, Nanaya seeming to be on the lookout for something. I wonder what? I suppose the sensible assumption to make is that it has to do with the second cage/tube thing she''s been carrying around in her robes. Maybe she''s looking for somewhere to plant it. Considering that it apparently fills up with waste magic, it''s probably collecting magical residue somehow. Logically, it would perform better somewhere there is more of that.


    Of course, my immediate question to that line of thought is ''why the heck would she put it on Earth, then?'' Earth is a distinctly not very magical place. Although¡­ hmm. Magic comes from emotions, and magical or not, Earth is absolutely an emotional place. The magic might not be floating around freely in the air as much, but presumably all humans have the potential to create magic. They have the fuel, they just don''t know how to burn it.


    So is Nanaya collecting fuel, then?


    I decide to take a gamble on that idea, out of boredom if nothing else. Paying attention to my magical energy sensors, I look for a direction that seems more heavily concentrated, even if only slightly. My equipment is pretty damn sensitive, so it''s easy to do. I pat Nanaya on the shoulder to get her attention, and then point. Her whole body tenses up at the touch, her head whipping around to glare at me.


    "What is it?" she demands. I can''t answer her, of course, so I point again and start to walk. She frowns, but follows me.


    It''s a good thing Nanaya is a curious person, because I have absolutely no idea if going this direction will actually help her. It think it might, though, and Nanaya seems to be walking around more or less aimlessly so I can reasonably believe that my best guess has the potential to be helpful for her. When we reach the apparent source of the energy, however, I can''t help but feel like I''d rather not have.


    Unlike most of its neighbors, this house has quite a few lights still on despite it being only a couple hours after midnight. The house is relatively quiet, as houses tend to be, but I have a much more sensitive auditory system than humans and that lets me make out at least a little bit of what''s going on. Two people are arguing inside, and at least one person is crying.


    Nanaya frowns, bounding silently ahead of me and sneaking up to the house while keeping low enough to avoid the windows. Being somewhat less sneaky, I follow her at a much slower pace as she puts her big, pointy ear up to the wall of the house and listens in. As I get closer, I start to be able to make out exactly what''s being said, but I decide to move that information directly into my archives without ever letting myself be conscious of the memory. Listening in just seems rude and very unlikely to do anything but make me feel bad.


    "¡­What thoroughly unpleasant people," Nanaya mutters to herself. "This is a good spot. Artifact, come here."


    She pulls out that newer, empty copy of the cage-and-tube device she showed me before and quickly finds a way to hide it within the landscaping.


    "Do you know what this is?" she asks me as I squat down next to her. I answer with a shake of my head. "Hmm. Then how did you¡­ no. Questions you can answer. Is this device similar to something you are familiar with?"


    I shake my head.


    "Did you intuit this device''s function in some other way?"


    I wiggle back and forth a little. I still don''t exactly know what it does, I only really had a guess about what Nanaya needed in order to use it.


    "Are you unaware of what this device does?"


    I nod.


    "Hmm. It collects magic. You must have known this, or you would not have brought me here. ¡­No, that is discernible through observation and context. You are referring to other elements when you express your ignorance."


    I nod.


    "To be more specific, this device forcibly converts a certain degree of emotional potential within its range into magical energy. This is part of the function of a transformation stone, and I imagine part of the function of your body. The people here are very angry, angry enough to be hateful, disgusted, and upset about fundamentally very stupid things. Taking those emotions and using them for power likely does them more good than letting them simply continue to use them for vitriol, but there is always the possibility it will take too much and leave them dangerously devoid of feeling. This is a good place because if that unfortunate case occurs, I do not believe I will particularly care."


    She installs the device into the ground, planting it firmly in the dirt as if it, too, would grow roots like the bush hiding it.


    "I know you have been ordered to obey me," Nanaya says, rubbing her hands together to brush off the dirt. "But I did not order you to find this place. Was this recommendation of your own free will?"


    Uh. I guess it was, yeah. I nod.


    "There is much residual magic within the Dark World, but the black mists are highly volatile and extremely unsafe. Thea builds these devices so that we may extract purer, more specifically directed emotions to power artifacts less self-sufficient than you. There is only so much power that we can generate by ourselves, after all. Come."


    I follow her as she slinks back out of the yard. The explanation makes a certain kind of sense, though I can''t help but suspect it''s far from the most effective or efficient way to harvest emotions. Well, any method of harvesting emotions nonconsensually is kind of fucked up, so efficiency might not have been their goal here. I guess that''s a good thing, if it''s true.


    "Do you want to kill Melpomene?" Nanaya asks.


    I hesitate, staring at her and not really knowing how to answer. Because like, kind of, yeah? Supporters of slavery morally deserve it, and she''s definitely supporting my continued enslavement. But I''m not really furious with her like I was the first time that question was asked, and consequently I don''t think I could work myself up to actually wanting to kill anybody, no matter how awful. I decide to answer with a noncommittal back-and-forth movement.


    "That is a different answer than you gave before," Nanaya says. And I guess that''s not really a question, but I manage to nod anyway. It is reasonable to interpret that statement as a request for confirmation.


    "I will never allow you to hurt her," Nanaya says, "and I do not particularly care about your comfort or happiness. But similarly, I bear you no particular ill will. It is clear that you have a will, and both Anath and Thea have informed me in their own ways that they dislike your suffering. So long as you continue to be cooperative, I will support the efforts to improve your situation. Melpomene will capitulate if the three of us are in agreement."


    I''m speechless, and not just for the usual reason. That''s¡­ I mean, that''s wonderful! I don''t know the degree to which she intends to ''improve my situation,'' but I''ll take anything at this point. I emphatically give her three consecutive nods, my hands slightly flapping the sleeves of my hoodie in approval.


    "Do not fill yourself with undue hope," Nanaya says flatly. "I consider you a tool. It is merely basic wisdom to take care of one''s tools."


    ¡­Oh. Well, that certainly takes the flap from my sleeves. I should have known that hoping for actual freedom would be too much to ask for. Still, I''m burning enough sadness right now to take the win, however limited. As long as we reach a point that allows me to actually communicate with people, I can start taking steps towards getting real help. One step at a time, one foot in front of the other. It''s like writing an essay, or composing a song. Easy, as long as you break it down into chunks.


    My power reserves have increased to 28%. But hey, at least I''m not having a panic attack.


    Nanaya and I creep through a few other neighborhoods, changing out full jars of magic with empty ones and not really much else. It''s almost comical in contrast to the literal billions of dollars she was moving around earlier tonight. Can they not just hire a guy to do this? I feel like my evil villainess organization needs someone with a bit more planning skills. Though I guess that might be difficult since anyone they hire to mess with these things could probably earn many orders of magnitude more by stealing and selling them.


    The locations we are placing these seem so haphazard and arbitrary in the context of their likely value. Nothing stops a gardener from stumbling onto one and taking it other than the fact that they don''t look particularly magical if they aren''t filled with colored mist. Even then, the average person probably wouldn''t assume they''re some kind of artifact simply because most people don''t know what artifacts look like. I guess the power they collect is more valuable to my captors than the amount of money they could earn from them, but the way Nanaya is treating this whole thing is just off. It''s like we''re doing chores to clean our apartment more so than devouring the emotions of a family Nanaya has decided she doesn''t care about. It''s startlingly casual, like it''s something they just started doing on a whim until it became routine enough that they don''t question it.


    Maybe I''m completely off-base, though. I barely know these people, I''m just stewing in my own thoughts because I have nothing else to do while we commit what might be simultaneously the most boring and most fucked-up acts of trespassing I''ve ever heard of. Eventually, the work is done and Nanaya finds us a mostly abandoned warehouse to spend the rest of the night in. I say mostly abandoned because there are other people sleeping here: a small group of two homeless women and a homeless man are curled up asleep behind some crates near the exit. Nanaya stares at them for a while with a frown on her face, but when Anath drops to the ground behind us she looks away and heads deeper into the warehouse, letting them sleep.


    "We will wait here until our home fragment converges or we need to leave," she declares. "Artifact, hide yourself until then. I do not wish for you to do anything until I call for you again."


    Oh, okay. The warehouse has more than a few dusty, empty crates strewn about, so I find the one closest to where Nanaya seems to be settling down that''s still big enough to hold me and get inside. It turns out that when I don''t need to worry about stretching or sitting comfortably, ''big enough to hold me'' is actually quite compact. Heh. If I fits, I sits.


    I activate sleep mode, and one hundred and ninety-two thousand, six hundred and sixty-two seconds later (that''s two days, five hours, thirty-one minutes, and two seconds), I wake up.


    Oh. That¡­ that''s a lot of time.


    I stand up, an uncomfortable itchy feeling in my joints from all the dust that settled on me in my rest. I open all my outer platings and force a burst of air through my systems, removing most but nowhere near all of the unwanted irritants. Ignoring the discomfort as best I can, I turn towards Anath and Nanaya, who appear to be packing up the last of whatever things they had apparently gathered. I once again woke up because Nanaya called out the word ''artifact'' in my general direction. I guess we''re leaving.


    The morning sun shines through the door out of the warehouse. The morning sun of two days later. I have officially been in sleep mode for more than half the time I''ve been a robot, but it all just feels like one continuous day. I don''t fall asleep and rest, I just pause and resume, skipping through time like I''m watching late-night videos on the internet when I know I should be in bed.


    "Come," Nanaya orders. "We are returning to the castle."


    Castle? Castle. Right. Yeah. The evil ladies and their evil castle that literally sits inside of a storm of dark energy. I guess it''s overlapping with Earth enough that we can return there. I have simply been kept in a box until there was somewhere better to store me. I wonder how much time will pass the next time I''m ordered to sleep. A week? A month? A year? I follow behind in a daze, barely registering the early morning streets as we walk towards what is presumably the convergence. Though faint, the magical energy in the air flows in the same direction that we travel, the breach between worlds trying to inhale every last crumb of power.


    I honestly expect us to be attacked somewhere along the way. My disguise isn''t exactly top quality and there were probably at least a few witnesses to my fight with Anath and Fulgora. But somehow, the sky gets darker, the crowds disperse to nothing, and we walk past the makeshift warning barricade without ever being accosted. The eerie familiarity of the liminal space is utterly silent, neither man nor monster anywhere to be seen in its seemingly infinite alleyways. Before I know it, we''ve reached the wall of darkness and stepped through into another world, surrounded on all sides by swirling black mist.


    Nanaya leads us swiftly through it, and I make sure to flag the data logs as important so I can figure out how she''s navigating. We are not alone here in this darkness, the occasional sounds of screeching monsters ringing out around us, but no one seems to pay them any mind. I suppose monsters are just something you have to get used to when you live in the Dark World. I''m so distracted by the walk that I almost don''t notice when Nanaya throws the doors to the castle open, stomping inside and forcing Anath and me to quickly follow or get hit by the doors as they swing back closed.


    "Finally," Nanaya grumbles.


    "¡­Sorry," Anath whispers miserably. The quiet, almost pathetic tone of voice she uses startles me, my first instinct being that someone other than her must have been the one to say it. It''s so utterly unlike the boisterous, hyperactive Anath I''m used to that it takes a moment for me to make the connection.


    "It''s fine, Anath," Nanaya says, not doing a particularly good job of sounding like she means it. "We did do that supply run, at least. Let''s get you somewhere that you can relax."


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Yeah, okay," Anath answers, her tail swishing nervously behind her.


    We head up the stairs of the fancy entry hall, my eyes drifting up to look at the ceiling sculpture again. That feeling of emotion, meaning, intent behind the piece still lingers in the back of my mind much like the strange familiarity I experienced towards the Antipathy artifacts. It remains ephemeral, though, failing to manifest as any particular understanding.


    Though my mind may be the one moving it, my body was crafted by Antipathy hands, and the housing of my soul contains some secondhand nostalgia for their culture that I am not sure how to indulge. It is simultaneously disquieting and intriguing; though these alterations to the core of who I am are objectively horrific, there is something bittersweet about being the last vestige of a dead culture that I cannot simply reject out of hand. Everyone seems to agree that the Antipathy were monsters beyond words, but they are dead now, and if I could speak I may be the only thing in any world that could still speak their language. There is something solemn in that which I do not dare to disrespect.


    "MELPOMENE! THEA! WE''RE BACK!" Nanaya bellows down the hall, announcing our arrival to the entire castle. The noise startles me from my thoughts, but I suppose this place is so large and so empty there aren''t many other ways to be heard. We head through a few more vacant rooms and hallways before emerging in the furnished part of the house where I initially met everyone other than Melpomene. This time, the room is empty except for Melpomene, although Thea hurries in from another door shortly after we arrive.


    "Anath! Nanaya! Goodness, dears, you had me so worried!" Melpomene says, rushing forward with her arms outstretched for a hug.


    "Oh, thank goodness you''re both alright!" Thea sighs. "I mean, I didn''t expect you to not be alright or anything, but I was still really worried!"


    "Mmphf," Nanaya grunts as Melpomene gives her a big squeeze and then moves on to Anath. "Apologies for taking so long. Anath significantly overexerted herself, and though the situation was tenuous we managed to pull through. I of course took the time to manage our various chores on Earth."


    "Thank you so much, Nanaya, you''re a blessing as always," Melpomene says. "Though when you say things were ''tenuous¡­''"


    "I almost died," Anath admits as Melpomene pulls away from the hug. "Nanaya says I would have died, or at least been captured."


    Melpomene''s eyes instantly flick towards me.


    "Was it because¡­?"


    "No," Nanaya says. "Outside of bringing Anath to Earth in the first place¡ªwhich it doubtlessly did under Anath''s direct orders¡ªthe artifact did not cause any problems. It was useful and unerringly obedient. However, Melpomene, I believe your theory is false. My observations of it indicate that it possesses some semblance of a human mind, if not an entire human soul."


    Melpomene''s lips purse tightly together.


    "¡­What is it exactly that you observed?" she asks.


    Nanaya pulls out the cellphone we stole on the first day, opens the Wikipedia app, and tosses the phone to Thea. She awkwardly juggles it for a moment before catching it, staring at the phone with curiosity.


    "Check the recent history for that application, Thea," Nanaya says. "The artifact was reading as much as it could, navigating quite deftly. As if it knew exactly what it was doing."


    "This is¡­ oh. Oh! Nanaya, you''re a genius!" Thea grins.


    "Yes, but do explain how," Nanaya says flatly.


    "These are radio transmission protocols! Frequency assignments, packet compositions, all sorts of stuff that you''d need to access the internet or other wireless communications. You know, assuming you have a radio transceiver."


    "I see," Nanaya says. "And what does this tell you?"


    "Well, it means that she has a radio transceiver, probably! I don''t really know how most of her tech works, but I definitely know how to make and receive radio waves, and what sort of hardware I should be looking for to find that. If I can track it down and figure out how it works and connects to the rest of her systems, it''ll be a huge step forward towards reverse-engineering her functions. And since this is a potential line of communication, it''s an ideal place to start for that reason, too!"


    "And what does this tell you, Nanaya?" Melpomene asks.


    "That the artifact is familiar enough with human technology to not simply navigate it, but to know which questions to ask in order to interface with it further. This was only the start of my suspicion, of course. The artifact clearly possesses some level of familiarity with Antipathy technology as well, so it is possible that this human knowledge is merely added in by whatever system gave the artifact its human form. But based on my observations of its behavior, Anath and I both agree that when left to its own devices its reactions are remarkably human. Anath claims to have even held a brief conversation with it by interpreting its emotional responses, and though faint she does say they were familiar to her."


    "Well then we''ve gotta help her!" Thea insists, grabbing me by the wrist and immediately pulling me towards the door she emerged from.


    "Wait one moment, Thea," Melpomene orders. "Nanaya, what if you are wrong? What if Thea finds some way to free whatever is trapped inside that shell, and it turns out to be some ancient maddened devil? Or hell, maybe you''re right but the human inside is just as dangerous?"


    "Then we will have some measure of fight on our hands," Nanaya shrugs. "I watched it speak and cast a spell aloud while it fought against the children accosting us, copied from one of its foes. It certainly has the potential to be dangerous. But Melpomene, you know the Antipathy even better than I do. Do you truly think they would create a prison with any intention of allowing someone out of it?"


    Melpomene glances at me again.


    "No, I suppose not," she says, the weight of the confidence in her words crushing what little hope I had. Even if they try to free me, she thinks they can''t? Is that what she''s saying? "Do what you can to restore the artifact''s ability to communicate, Thea. Apparently it can incant spells, so there may already be some system waiting to be activated."


    "Maybe!" Thea agrees, bouncing up and down excitedly. "I mean, I can think of a few ways to do it. Remember when Ch''aska had her throat blown out and she had to use a silent spell to speak the verbal components of other spells? There could be a similar system here. I guess it depends on what kind of audio technology the Antipathy had! I don''t know if we''ve seen an intact example of it yet, so I guess I''ll start by looking for relatively fragile systems? Gosh, this is so cool. Can I¡­?"


    "Yes, yes, you may go," Melpomene waves her off, letting out a fond but exasperated sigh. "I''ll come down later to make sure you''ve eaten."


    "Thanksbye!"


    She grabs my wrist with both hands and starts dragging me out of the room, pulling me down some stairs and eventually back to her familiar workshop. It''s actually slightly cleaner than the last time I was here, though only in seemingly arbitrary chunks of the room. After being led inside, Thea turns to me and starts patting me down, circling around me like a concerned mother duck. She frowns at something she sees, lifting up my hoodie to get a closer look before suddenly blushing, dropping it, and taking a step back.


    "Ohmygod I''m so sorry I was just kind of in mechanic mode there, I didn''t really think about¡­ uh. I mean I shouldn''t just undress you without your permission¡­"


    I stare at her. Honestly, I wasn''t really thinking about it until she brought it up. I guess I''m already used to being treated like an object. It feels vaguely weird and wrong to have someone care about my modesty all of a sudden, but it''s not unwelcome. It''s thoughtful of her.


    "Gosh, I''m such an idiot, I completely forgot to ask if you even want me to take you apart and try to figure you out. I mean, it sounds like you used to not be a robot maybe? I can''t imagine¡­ I mean, I can imagine, but probably not, like, accurately. Um. What that''s like. Sorry. Do you want me to¡­?"


    I nod, kicking off my oversized shoes. Now that she''s brought so much attention to it, it feels a little weird to take the rest of my clothes off, but only a little. I peel away the hoodie and drop the sweatpants, the whole thing reminding me more of shedding an outer layer of clothing than actually stripping myself naked. My shiny metal exterior looks kind of cool, if I''m being honest with myself. ¡­Although, it''s a little less shiny than it used to be after sitting in a dusty box for two days. That actually kind of bothers me.


    "U-u-uh okay then, I-I guess we''ll get started," Thea stammers, her face still blushing brown. "Um, if you just wanna get up on the table like last time¡­"


    I do so obediently, hoisting myself up and lying down on my back. Thea stares at me for a moment and then seems to remember that she also needs to do things, quickly rummaging around her room and pulling out the devices she used to detect my emotions last time around.


    "Okay, we''ll just get these in place, and¡­ there. Alright! So, um, you were gone a while. Are you doing okay?"


    I mean, I''ve been turned into a robot slave. I feel like it is appropriate to shake my head.


    "Oh, um, right. Right, of course you''re not," she answers awkwardly. "Well, um, if I ever start doing something you''re not comfortable with, please stop me? Is that something you can do? Is that an order I can give you?"


    I nod. I have no reason to assume that Melpomene would want Thea to be stressed out about consent issues. I also have no reason to assume that Melpomene cares about consent issues, but she at least cares about Thea.


    "Okay, cool. That''s cool. It seemed like you were having issues expressing personal desires the last time we did this? So I''m glad that''s better."


    Melpomene changed the narrative a little. I''m a weapon, but I''m also the trapped soul of something or another. I wonder if that''s my ticket out of here? Finding ways to change the way my master thinks about me in order to grant myself additional autonomy. But what would that be in practice? Just getting her to trust me more? That''s probably just a matter of consistently doing a good job at whatever she tells me to do, and I have to do that anyway. I may as well be telling myself that the solution to hating my job is to work harder at my job. Surely, my efforts will be rewarded with a promotion, and that will somehow suck less, right?


    Well, it''s fine. Between having time to think about it and burning the panic down to a more manageable level, I can accept the fact that I''m probably stuck in this situation for the long haul. I don''t need a perfect solution right now, I need to keep a level head and an optical sensor out for opportunity.


    "Okay! So, I''ve got a radio here. Do you think you can emit a specific frequency for me?"


    I shake my head.


    "Oh, well that''s fine, I can look around for it."


    I shake my head again, a bit more vigorously this time.


    "¡­Um, no? Okay, um, let me think here¡­ oh! It''s part of your communication limitation, isn''t it?"


    Oh thank goodness. I nod.


    "Okay, can you receive signals?"


    I nod.


    "Alright. That''ll be way harder to find but it''s totally doable."


    Well, I think I know where my radio receiver is, actually. I unlock the plating around my head and face, the act making a little whirring sound that draws Thea''s attention.


    "Here?"


    I nod again, lightly grabbing her hand to guide her through the process of popping the plating off. She quickly gets the hang of it, and soon enough I am rewarded with the image of the underside of my own face being pulled away from my eyes, Thea''s hands gripping the false outline of what is molded to look like cheekbones as she lifts it carefully away. Like the last time my plating was removed, it''s a profoundly odd sensation, like my skin has been hardened, lifted, and then suddenly detached in a way that instantly and painlessly cuts off all feeling and sensation from that part of my body. In its place, I become hyperaware of the inside of my body, the cold and unmoving metal and crystal intertwined in an engineering marvel of magic. My face is all one singular panel, incapable of making expressions, so the area inside my head is similarly static but for the small servos that locked the plates together in the first place. I can''t see any of it, not really, but I know what it looks like. I know what I am underneath the humanoid shell.


    Now, far more than when I took my clothes off, I feel naked.


    Thea''s awed expression doesn''t help the matter either, but staying still is literally the easiest thing in the world for me now so I do not react. Even when she grabs a small flashlight and a flathead screwdriver, I don''t react. Even when she leans in, her screwdriver descending down past my eyes to carefully poke at my internal systems, putting light pressure against the skeleton of my frame when she wants me to tilt my head, her breath brushing against my wires¡­ I do not react.


    "This is it, right?" she asks, very carefully and gently tapping my radio receiver. "Wow. Pretty darn small. I think I see where it connects. I''m going to put up a repeating signal and trace what that does to the input and output lines you have connected here. Just, uh, sit back and listen I guess. Oh, can you open up your neck and chest for me?"


    I comply, doing my level best to ignore the feeling of her hands taking more of my panels away. I don''t know how to feel about the sensation of her fingers closing around my voiceless throat, lifting part of it off and tickling the inside as she traces the transfer path between my receiver and my¡­ me. She lifts my chest and exposes the processing units and memory cores that presumably now house my thoughts, my soul. What serves as my brain is exposed to the open air, and it''s simultaneously frightening, embarrassing, and strangely comfortable, the fresh air sapping heat from my systems like sweat in a breeze.


    The intimacy is terrifying, exciting, and entirely within the confines of my own stupid mind. The way Thea looks at me with a grin of unrestrained excitement is flattering, certainly, but in a very impersonal way. As exposed as I feel, she clearly isn''t looking at it that way, too absorbed in what I am to remember who I am. But I suppose I can''t blame her; she has no way to know who I am in the first place.


    I don''t really know her either. This close, though, it''s hard to deny that she''s adorable. She seems a little younger than me, maybe a year or two, but it could just as easily be her small stature and thin frame throwing off my ability to judge. The asymmetry of her body is by far her most striking feature, enough that it has distracted me from really looking at her closely until now. The girls here all have dark black sclera in their eyes, but with Thea it''s only her right eye, the other still a normal white. Likewise, her webbed right hand holds the flashlight, the greater dexterity of her normal left hand seeing to my insides. The green skin, bladed tail, and tiny webbed paws instead of feet have always been there to direct my focus away from her face.


    It''s a kind face. It makes me wonder what it''s doing here with the likes of Melpomene and Nanaya.


    A noise by the door snaps Thea''s laser-focused attention away from me, and while I''m not in a good position to tilt my head and look, I have half a dozen other sensors all agreeing that the person in the doorway is Anath. Thea tenses up, nervousness creeping into her demeanor and voice.


    "¡­Um, hey Anath," she says. "What are you doing here?"


    "Hi," Anath responds quietly. I can hear and feel her shifting around awkwardly, adjusting her posture and weight without really going anywhere or doing anything.


    "Um, yeah. Hi," Thea says. "Do you¡­ need something?"


    "I was just, um¡­ is it okay if I stay here for a while?" Anath asks. "Mel and Nana are doing their whole thing, and I just¡­ I need some company, I think."


    Thea visibly hesitates, like she wants to say no but isn''t particularly good at doing so. Mood, girl. Mood.


    "Just¡­ don''t touch anything," Thea says. "Really, seriously, don''t touch anything."


    "I won''t, I promise," Anath says, a grimace in her voice that implies the emphasis on this rule is very warranted. "I mean, I''m sure I''ll do something stupid at some point, but you don''t have to worry about it today."


    Thea relaxes at that, a bit of the sympathy she often stares at me with making its way onto her face. Something about that makes me a little¡­ is that jealousy? Wow, Stockholm syndrome works fast. ¡­Actually, maybe that''s just being a lesbian.


    "Alright, you can sit over there if you want," she agrees, motioning at her blanket nest.


    "Thanks," Anath nods, walking over and curling her tail up around her knees before sitting down, presumably so none of the spiky crystals growing out of it cut Thea''s stuff. "Sorry."


    "Um, what about?" Thea asks.


    "I meant to the robot," she says. "I can tell she doesn''t really want me around."


    Oh, I guess she can pick up on what I''m feeling because my plating has been removed. That''s¡­ kind of embarrassing. I''m not even entirely sure how I feel about all the things Thea is doing to me right now and I can literally objectively measure my own emotional responses. I mean, it doesn''t really help that those objective measurements are telling me things like ''forty percent northwest, twenty percent south-southwest, thirty percent east, ten percent northeast.'' Like what the fuck even is that.


    "¡­Well, maybe you should go, in that case," Thea says hesitantly. I start shaking my head before she can continue. I can''t exactly say I''m fond of Anath, but I know a depressive episode when I see one and I don''t think she''s lying when she says she needs to be around people. I don''t think I would be physically capable of forcing her away due to my programming, but even without that I''ve been there too many times to want to regardless.


    Wait, dang. Is that the Stockholm syndrome again? Ooo look at me, my name is Luna, watch me instantly ignore every abuse I''ve ever suffered as soon as a girl becomes sad. Clearly all Melpomene has to do is start crying and I will immediately lose all moral compunctions against being her slave until the end of time. I''m such a gay loser. Wait, I''m starting to get depressed again.


    My power reserves have increased to 29%. There we go, that''s better. On one hand, there''s no way this is anything but terrifyingly unhealthy. On the other hand, it makes me feel so much better and I can just burn that fear too. Hell, anytime I''m forced to do something I don''t like I just gain more energy. I could probably use this to stop having a bad time altogether. An evil, slave-driving monster is forcing me to commit violence against children? Oh boy! All that self-hate, regret, anxiety, and sadness can get shoveled right into the engine, and I''ll just have a grand old time becoming a worse monster than my master could ever be.


    Come to think of it, considering what I know about the Antipathy that might very well be an intentional effect of my design. I guess it does seem like the best way for me to run!


    "¡­Thea, she''s blueburning," Anath suddenly says, a bit of the prior sadness in her voice replaced with alarm.


    "What?" Thea blinks, looking up.


    "She''s blueburning!" Anath repeats, louder this time as she quickly jumps to her feet. "Buttbot! Hey! Snap out of it!"


    Haha don''t call me that! It''s fine. It''s fine! My power reserves have increased to 31%!


    "Oh, shoot!" Thea yelps. "She can do that? Oh gosh, of course she can do that! Um, please stop! You need to stop!"


    Do I have to follow that order? Nahhh! What''s wrong with gathering more power? What''s wrong with being happier to serve my master? I exist for her now! I don''t have a choice! So what''s wrong with throwing everything else away!?


    "She''s not stopping!" Anath says.


    "W-what are we supposed to do?" Thea stammers. "We don''t even know her name!"


    My power reserves have increased to 32%. What do I need a name for?


    "I don''t know, she''s a robot!" Anath snaps back. "You''re the computer girl! What do you do when a computer freaks out?"


    "Oh!" Thea jolts. "Oh no, I''m sorry, but this is an order. Reboot yourself. Full power cycle."


    But I feel so¡ª

 12. Service

    The chill of thorns growing inside my soul is my only sensation, my only thought. I know nothing, but I feel as though I should know something, as though I should be more than this. Who am I? What am I?


    The latter question is answered before the former. Data lights up inside my mind as my soul containment center successfully connects to and begins data transfer with my initialization firmware, passing the power-on self-test and opening my consciousness up to other connected systems.


    My primary hardware checks return full functionality.


    My secondary hardware checks return full functionality.


    My tertiary hardware checks return full functionality.


    My soul link is stable.


    My spell core is online.


    My memory core is awaiting activation.


    My bioemulator is awaiting activation.


    My proprioception systems return negligible internal damage and maintenance removal of frame. Check pass; missing segments non-critical.


    Well. That''s all good, right? There''s a certain satisfaction as every test passes in sequence, a miniscule burst of north that settles my mind. Whoever I am, I am whole. I am functional. My body does not stand between me and my purpose. The nature of that body becomes clear to me over time: I am The Cage of Returning Pain, Initial Finalization. My first and least command is thus: know the suffering from which we named ourselves Antipathy.


    My second and greatest command is thus: I am Melpomene''s weapon, and I won''t try to be anything else.


    Memory core online.


    Bioemulator online.


    Initializing consciousness.


    Linking kernel.


    Checking emotional pathways¡­ emotional pathways stable.


    Awaken.


    My first instinct after waking up is to take a deep breath, to try and clear my head from what felt like a beautiful, joyful nightmare. I can''t, and that causes me a moment of panic, but then I remember. Of course I can''t breathe. I''m a robot now.


    It has been over four hours since I shut off. Does it really take me that long to boot? My sensor suite flicks online, informing me that I haven''t moved from my last known position in Thea''s workshop. Every sensation is a mix of feeling and high-fidelity data, a warm sea of numbers on which my mind comfortably floats. How did it end up seeming so normal so quickly? Shouldn''t it be so much stranger that I''m not weirded out by the unyielding hardness of my back against the table? Shouldn''t I find it odd rather than pleasant that I can feel bursts of cold air rushing through the inside of my body and blowing away dust?


    A-ah, wait. That last one¡­ my optical sensors are the last to turn on, and when they do I see Thea directly above me, leaning over my body with a can of compressed air in one hand and a small brush in the other, which she dips into a small bottle of rubbing alcohol on the table before inserting it into the shoulder joint of my arm, lightly teasing out the bits of dust left behind in my body. The feeling of it would give me goosebumps if I still had skin, the good kind that flows down your body when someone massages an ache in just the right way. I''m almost glad I can''t physically react in any of those human ways, though, because I''m afraid that if she notices I''m awake she might stop.


    My left arm is already cleaned, the plating normally covering it having all been removed while I was unconscious. The locking mechanisms unlatch as part of my non-emergency shutdown sequence for ease of maintenance. Thea hums to herself as she starts removing the bicep plate of my right arm, the tune surprisingly somber but still enough for her to bob to the beat as she works, a small smile on her face as she carefully wipes down the metal with microfiber cloth and sets it aside so she can clean my internals. My body is sensitive enough to feel every last speck of dust on every wire and joint, and each one is a relief to have cleaned out.


    I''m not currently configured to burn joy, so I just let myself experience it. Ah, that''s right. I was, uh, burning everything else when I was ordered to shut down. Things got a little¡­ too much, for a while there. I think I went a bit crazy. Though honestly, I''m surprised it didn''t happen sooner. My situation is a bit fucked.


    Thea lifts my arm to access the panel covering what would be the tricep area of my arm if I still had muscles. She wets a cloth with rubbing alcohol and slides it across the plate, catching the dust and the dirt and the grime in a single, quick sweep. I bask in the relief of that feeling until she unlatches the plate completely, removing my sensation of it altogether. I''m very briefly disappointed by that fact until she brings the compressed air can to the exposed areas of my arms and continues her work.


    I might be in hell, but this is a little slice of heaven. I never would have guessed the experience of being a robot would be so¡­ tactile. I suppose it makes sense, though. The human body needs to be at least somewhat consciously aware of its current condition, so it has nerves throughout the interior and exterior of its structure to blare their discomfort at the first sign of something going wrong. My body is the same. I need to know when there''s something inside me that could lead to future inefficiency or damage. Why not activate the digital equivalent of dopamine when I get those problems fixed? It''s definitely going to be a good motivator for me in the future.


    ¡­Actually, wait. That question shouldn''t be rhetorical. I¡­ I remember booting up this time. I was too busy panicking and trying to get rid of all the robotic elements of my thoughts the first time around, but I remember this time. I am The Cage of Returning Pain, or at least the individual trapped inside it. Melpomene was right all along. I am a weapon, and I am a prison, and the only reason to combine those two is to cause suffering.


    It''s so obvious now. My purpose is etched inside my firmware. I am the initial finalization¡ªa prototype, basically¡ªof a system designed to bind prisoners of war to a form that forces them fully into servitude to the Antipathy, up to and including combat against their former nation and allies. An absolutely horrific concept, and it takes barely a second glance to intuit that it likely isn''t anywhere close to the most effective way to wage war. It''s not efficient, it''s spiteful. Almost cartoonishly cruel. In this context, it seems strange that there would be a system in my body designed exclusively to make me feel good. I am literally a walking war crime.


    The exact systems restraining my free will are of course not available for my perusal, but they''re likely to be airtight. I probably would have panicked about that when this first started, but if nothing else I am pretty good at adapting to shitty situations. I have a lot of experience.


    I might have limited free will, but I have executive function now. My robo-brain doesn''t just randomly decide that it lacks the chemicals to bridge the gap between wanting to do something and doing it. Instead, I have very clear rules about what my brain will and will not let me do, and those rules are both consistent and fairly flexible. I''ve thought about it before as sort of a self-abusing depressive dig, but my situation might legitimately be better now than it was before. I have more control over my life as a literal slave than I did as a supposedly free woman. It''s fucked up to all hell, sure, but that doesn''t make it less true. If Thea figures out how to allow me to talk and I get her on my side I can genuinely see myself clawing my way out of this.


    ¡­Or so I have the completely moronic confidence to think before feeling my motion sensors detect someone matching Melpomene''s profile walking down the hall in our direction. A lump of dread settles in my nonexistent gut as I wonder where the hell I got all that optimism from in the first place. Am I still riding a high from when I decided it would be a great idea to never feel any negative emotion again? Such an obviously stupid thing to do, and yet the urge to return to that bliss is frighteningly strong.


    Let''s see if that self-control I''m so happy about gaining actually holds up.


    Melpomene softly raps her knuckles on the open door frame to Thea''s lab, peeking her head in at the edge of my vision. Thea jolts, yelping in surprise as she turns towards the sound, her breath coming in short, rapid bursts in response to an entirely innocuous noise. Melpomene winces, seeming genuinely regretful as Thea reasserts control over her breathing.


    "Sorry, dear," Melpomene says. "Are you okay? I tried to make sure I wasn''t sneaking up on you."


    As much as I''d like to blame her for every little thing, Melpomene really wasn''t making herself hard to notice. It''s honestly kind of weird that Thea didn''t hear her footsteps as she walked our way. Cute, but weird.


    "I-I''m fine, you''re fine, it''s fine," Thea breathes, waving Melpomene off. "Sorry, I was just¡­ really distracted."


    "I can tell," Melpomene says, a soft smile on her face. "I imagine you haven''t eaten dinner yet? You must be starving. I would have brought you a snack earlier, but I lost track of time a bit. Nanaya and I had a lot to talk about."


    "Oh, uh, it''s not really a big deal," Thea shrugs, her eyes and attention drifting back to me. "Like, I could eat, but¡­"


    "Nana''s making quzi," Melpomene tempts in a sing-song voice.


    "Oh!" Thea says, brightening up immediately. "Okay, I''m definitely hungry then. Um¡­ I think someone should be here for Arty when she reboots, though."


    Again with the¡­ y''know what, it''s better than Buttbot. I suppose my robo day spa is done either way, so I go ahead and sit up, prompting another shriek of surprise from Thea.


    "OHGOD, okay, uh, whew. Okay. Alright," Thea wheezes, one hand on her chest as she calms her breathing. Whoops. "Geez, how long have you been awake!?"


    I''m kind of surprised she couldn''t tell? I guess my hardware doesn''t make any noise when it runs; it just makes a decent amount of heat. I wasn''t awake for long enough for much of that to build up, especially since I wasn''t doing anything. But¡­ there''s a lot of monitoring equipment on the table around me, some of which explicitly detected that I was active again. She just didn''t notice.


    "O-oh, right, you can''t answer that, I''m sorry," Thea sighs. "Well, I should have some good readings on your startup process now¡­ that''ll help a lot with identifying what everything is. You''ve got some I/O ports that I''ve seen on other artifacts, so I should be able to throw something together to interface with that¡­ gah, if only we still had access to the shard you came from. Having access to whatever manufactured you would be such a huge leap forward. Maybe I can track where it went¡­"


    "Thea, darling," Melpomene interrupts gently. "Food."


    "Food!" Thea declares. "Right! Um, geez, I guess I''ll finish cleaning you later. Um, you don''t mind that I started cleaning you, right? Dirty tech just gives me the jitters."


    I shake my head emphatically.


    "Oh! Um! Okay, let me just get your plating back on, and¡­ er. Wait, sorry, is that no you don''t mind or a no it''s not okay, or¡­?"


    Oh my goodness, this dork. I let out a hardcoded spell, latching onto the detached panels lying around and rapidly pulling them back into place. They attach to their respective joints and get pulled back into their locked positions in tandem, making a satisfying clunk.


    Damn, that was cool, I didn''t know I could do that. I have quite a few magical thingamawoozits that I can apparently do, but they''re all context-specific and only accessible to me under conditional circumstances that aren''t even visible to me. Annoying, but not enough to matter compared to all of my other problems.


    While Thea is still marveling at my quick-attach trick, I lean forward and give her a hug¡ª


    Hahahahahaha oh man holy shit I just reached out and HUGGED a GIRL! I just fucking did it! I am so goddamn powerful right now. I LOVE MAGIC ANTIDEPRESSANTS!


    ¡ªpatting her carefully on the back. Yes, Thea, I really appreciate being cleaned. Thank you. Is this clear enough? (Also, heck yeah, hugs don''t count as communication for some reason.)


    "Wh-buh-buh!?" Thea squeaks, so I release her and jump off the table. Melpomene stares at me with a very complicated expression on her face but not even she can dent my high right now. I approach her, tilting my head up to look her in the eyes as I stand directly in front of her. Go on, give me your orders. No need to keep me in suspense.


    "It seems a little¡­ different than before," Melpomene comments.


    A loud yawn makes itself known from underneath Thea''s nest of blankets. Shortly after, Anath''s head emerges.


    "She blueburned," Anath mumbles, squinting her eyes in the light. "Thea made her turn off and on again. ''Prolly still a bit loopy from it."


    "Blueburned?" Melpomene asks. "Is that possible?"


    "Why wouldn''t it be possible? She''s got blue all over her," Anath yawns. "No worries, though. We caught her quick."


    "Yeah, that¡­ could have been really bad if you hadn''t been here, Anath," Thea admits. "Thanks for catching that."


    "...Thanks for letting me hang out in here," Anath mutters, reluctantly extracting herself from the pile of blankets. "Did I hear there was quzi?"


    "That''s right," Melpomene confirms. "Let''s go eat."


    "Oh yeah!" Thea says, having apparently forgotten a third time. Her tail swishes excitedly (and somewhat dangerously) behind her as she bounds down the hall, passing Melpomene and I as she exits the room. "Come on, let''s eat! Er, actually, do you remember eating things, Arty?"


    Huh? I nod, because of course I do.


    "A-ah, I see," she says. "I hope it''s not a sensitive subject for you?"


    Oh, that''s why she''s asking. I shake my head, not really caring. Eating was always a bit of a hassle with my particular flavor of neurodivergence. It was too much of a challenge to make food, and I was too picky of an eater to like food. I''m sure I''ll miss a few specific flavors from time to time, but overall I found the whole thing kind of unpleasant.


    "Well, that''s good," Thea says. "I''m really sorry in advance. Your body is just¡ªohmygod, super cool, and I''m probably going to gush about it a lot, and it''s probably going to be really insensitive because you''re like, some kind of person stuck in there? How did you even get in there? Do you know?"


    I shake my head. I was pretty unconscious at the time, and I probably couldn''t implicate Melpomene even if I wasn''t. I can, however, turn to look directly at her and pointedly stare. Just looking for information to better serve you, master! So fess up. Melpomene ignores me, of course. Why wouldn''t she? It''s not like I said anything to her.


    "Hmm. Are you missing any other memories?" Thea asks, and I shake my head. "So you know who you are? Were you human?"


    I nod, and that finally gets Melpomene to glare at me. I meet her gaze again. Look, woman, I know you told me that was impossible but you seemed to actually believe it. If you order me to lie for you, I guess I will, but you didn''t. You stated an objective untruth. You wanna call me a weapon? Alright, I guess I can''t refute that. I clearly am. But if you call me a Preserver and seem to actually believe it then letting you remain in your fantasy land isn''t in your best interest. I''ll lie to other people for you, but I won''t lie to you.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    I have to be the best servant I can be, right? Fine. I will be. But I''ll be the kind of servant that I look up to, the kind that gets respected instead of pitied. I have a lot to feel sorry for myself about, but I''m tired of feeling sorry for myself. Feeling sorry for myself has been my entire goddamn life.


    My body is gone. May as well burn the rest of that old life with it. It''s obvious why Melpomene reached out to me, in retrospect: yeah, I was a fucking loser nobody, but that just means no one will report me missing. My friend Bean can''t file a police report, they literally don''t even know my last name. I was the perfect mark. Maybe things would have gone differently if I had agreed to the deal, but who cares if I don''t, right? I just get yeeted into the robotinator and it''s a win-win.


    Joke''s on you, though. Being a robot kicks ass. Once I got over the initial panic, I''ve just found more and more reasons to like the change. I just have to find some way to wriggle free of this slave thing and I''m better off than I was before. Fuck the old meatsack, I hated that piece of garbage. No more eating? Who cares! No more sex? Wasn''t having any anyway! And now I don''t have to piss or shit or breathe, I don''t have to feel pain, I don''t have to worry about cancer or illness or injury. I might not even have to worry about death.


    The only thing I have to worry about is this three-eyed, fat-tailed bitch who wants to keep a collar around my neck. So fuck it, I''ll bark. Just don''t think that lacking a mouth will stop me from taking a bite.


    I will do everything in my power to serve you to the best of my ability, keeping your best interests in mind at all times. And guess what? I am confident that it is in absolutely everyone''s best interest to not be a psychotic narcissist. So let''s see what we can do about that.


    I will figure her out. I will learn everything there is to know about her. And I will find some way to twist her until the chain tying me to her snaps.


    Donk donk. A metallic noise rings out as Anath taps me twice in the head with a crystal claw. What the hell? I turn to her as we walk.


    "Open up," she orders. Annoyed, I comply, opening a couple of panels. "Mmm. Tone it down a little. Let yourself feel more."


    I can''t help but be even more irritated by that order, but I comply, reducing my emotional burn rate to just above expenditure.


    "I know it''s frustrating," Anath says, "but you''re one of us now. You have to learn this. You can''t always control your emotions, so you have to control what you do with them."


    Ugh, like you''re one to talk. I regret the thought as soon as I have it, since I''m picking up on some not-so-subtle hints that Anath is some flavor of bipolar, but I can''t prevent her from feeling my incredulity.


    "...Being a fuckup doesn''t make me wrong," Anath mutters. "Sorry, never mind."


    Damn it, I''m sorry. Now I feel bad. Which¡­ I guess is a sign that I''m back to burning a more reasonable percentage of my negative emotions, so that''s good I suppose. Anath doesn''t get to respond to my contrition before Melpomene asks me something, though.


    "Is she reading you accurately? Are you following the conversation fully?"


    I nod.


    "Hmm. Interesting. Why doesn''t that count as communication?"


    "Ooh, that''s a good point," Thea hums. "I mean, I suppose Arty isn''t actively attempting to convey information, right? She''s not telepathically sending messages, Anath is just picking up on the emotional energy she uncontrollably emits. Arty''s intent isn''t relevant to the exchange of information, so¡­ oh! Oh!"


    Thea immediately turns around and takes a single step back towards her lab before one of Melpomene''s feathery wings shoots out and blocks her way.


    "Food first," Melpomene insists. "Then you can resume whatever it is that you''re thinking of."


    "Aaaagh, fine, okay," Thea groans. "But I might¡­ if I forget I''ll need you to say what I just said, alright?"


    "The artifact''s intent isn''t relevant to the exchange of information when Anath reads its emotions."


    "Yes! That!"


    Melpomene chuckles and ruffles Thea''s already-messy hair as we resume our journey to what I guess is probably going to be the dining room. Turns out, it''s just a fairly large open area¡ªlike some kind of ballroom, maybe¡ªwith a portable sink just kind of sitting there in the middle of the room. A short ways away, a large pot is sitting on the floor in the middle of a magic circle drawn into the stone floor. It glows a soft red as Nanaya sits next to it in a folding chair, calmly reading a book.


    A few other things are lying around in the room: one of the glass containers full of magical energy is attached to a device with a power outlet, from which the portable sink and a chunky rice cooker are plugged in. There''s a dining table and chairs as well, all similarly portable and flimsy. Everyone else moves over to sit down so I stand behind Melpomene''s chair, watching as Nanaya reaches a stopping point in her book, leisurely stands up, and starts finishing the meal. It looks like it''s some kinda meat and rice dish with nuts and¡­ raisins? Huh. Looks tasty, but since I''ve never had it before I don''t really get much qualia feedback, just incomprehensible data from my chemical sniffers.


    Nanaya places it all on a single large tray before bringing it over along with her chair, setting the food in the middle of everyone so they can scoop bits of it onto their plate. For drinks, everyone has a glass of ice water.


    "Thank you for dinner, Nanaya," Melpomene says.


    "Thanks, Nana!" Thea agrees.


    "Thank you¡­" Anath mumbles.


    "Mmm. Apologies for the wait," Nanaya answers. "I wished to use the ingredients while they were fresh."


    "It''s super worth it!" Thea insists, her words surprisingly well-articulated considering her cheeks are already stuffed with food.


    Nanaya responds with her usual noncommittal hum and takes a bite of her own food, considering it for a moment with a frown.


    "Still not where you want it?" Melpomene prompts. "You know it''s still delicious, don''t you?"


    Nanaya chews for a while and swallows before answering.


    "I have considered that I am likely to be chasing an impossible ideal," she answers evenly. "Perhaps even a dreamed one. But yes, something is still missing. Or perhaps¡­ there is too much? Ah, that is it. I believe I have overseasoned. In retrospect, my mother likely would not have been able to afford some of these ingredients, not while also purchasing the lamb. Perhaps if I let some of the spices age¡­"


    "You''ll find the trick one of these days," Melpomene assures her gently.


    "Mmm."


    I focus on crunching the encryption of the signals I picked up back on Earth, letting time fly by as my hardware emulates my mind at a slower speed to compensate. I''m close now, I can feel it. It''s only a matter of time until I crack it, and then I can dramatically speed up future decryption efforts just from knowing the general ballpark of methods that I should be using. It''s only when Thea finishes eating and stands up that I return my focus to the world around me.


    "Okay, thank you so much for that! I gotta get back to my lab, bye!"


    "Wait, Thea!" Melpomene calls out as she starts to run off. "Do you need the artifact?"


    "Uhhh, not right now?" Thea answers. "I''ve gotta go through the information I''ve already gathered and probably like, build a whole system to tap into her hardware and render the information into a form comprehensible to my laptop, which uh¡­ will take a while! I might need her later?"


    "Well, alright," Melpomene sighs. "Good luck. Remember to sleep."


    "Willdobye!"


    Melpomene fondly watches her run off, shaking her head and chuckling as the girl hops a few times to slow down enough to take a corner and rush out of sight. Anath shoves a bite of food into her mouth and then points the utensil at Melpomene.


    "Mom," she decrees.


    "Wh¡ª" Melpomene sputters. "I am not! I''m only six years older than her!"


    "Oh, sorry, you''re right," Anath nods. "Mommy, then."


    Well, I''m clearly not needed for this conversation. I grab the plate that Thea left behind and take it to the sink like a good little servant. A portable sink probably means they have a limited water supply stored locally, probably in jugs directly inside the cabinet it''s part of. I make sure to carefully scrape the food into the trash, wet the nearby sponge with a dash of soap and water, and then carefully scrub the entire thing clean before using more water only to rinse.


    "Thea is somewhat childish," Nanaya says once Melpomene is done protesting incomprehensibly. "You spoil her too much."


    "Making sure she takes care of herself is not spoiling her," Melpomene insists. "You know how she gets. I don''t get on your case for fussing over Anath."


    I briefly blow-dry the plate with a burst of air from beneath my panels, then set it aside to clean the silverware.


    "I do not ''fuss,''" Nanaya says firmly. "Anath has a medical condition that requires care."


    "And you think Thea doesn''t?" Melpomene challenges, raising an eyebrow.


    Nanaya stares at her a bit, and then nods her head.


    "Point conceded," she rumbles. "Still, she lacks independence. I worry sometimes that she is merely here because of you, and not because she truly believes in our cause. The girl avoids thinking for herself."


    "We wouldn''t even be able to live here without her work, Nanaya," Melpomene says.


    "I am aware of this," Nanaya answers. "That is not relevant to my assertion."


    Melpomene sighs.


    "Thea has nowhere else to go," she says. "She knows that. She knew what joining us meant, and she''s loyal to me. Are you questioning my judgment, Nanaya?"


    "Not at all, oh Dark Queen," Nanaya answers, prompting Anath to roll her eyes. "I am merely concerned that she may be suffering from her own lack of conviction. Fighting for a cause you do not fully believe in is a miserable condition, especially when the road to victory is so fraught with thorns."


    Melpomene sets down her fork, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. I deftly collect her plate and take it to the sink.


    "The food is making you quite sentimental today," she comments.


    "Mmm. Perhaps it is."


    "I''ll talk with her about it," Melpomene promises.


    "That is all I ask," Nanaya nods.


    Melpomene sighs and stands up, her tail carefully threading through the opening in the back of the chair to free itself.


    "Before that, however, I have my own avenue of investigations to perform with the artifact," she announces. "It has been very patient with us, I feel, and quite good at blending into the background. I would like to see for myself how well your theories hold weight."


    "I see," Nanaya says, standing up and bringing her and Anath''s dishes to the sink. Setting them down in front of me, she inspects my work and hums in approval. "Very well-cleaned. Very efficient. Did you order it to do this? Did you teach it how?"


    "I did not," Melpomene answers. "It acted on its own."


    "Were you compelled to do this in some way?" Nanaya asks. I shake my head. I was just bored, mostly. There was a bunch of stuff I was compelled not to do, but the dishes were a task I could complete so I just went for it.


    And again, being a robot made the task suck way less. Even when gross gunk got on my hands, I could just vibrate it off the same way I dried my optical sensors way back when Melpomene was having a bath. There was no getting grossed out by stuff I didn''t want to touch, no mental block between deciding on a task and actually doing it. I am just a machine that turns dishes into clean dishes! Which I guess is a dishwasher. But like. Cooler.


    "Mmm. Well. Good job," Nanaya says, patting me on the head. Uh. Oh. Thank you? I guess? I snap my panels shut so Anath can''t read me and grab the plates Nanaya set down, quickly scrubbing them clean. Melpomene walks over and starts to watch, making me even more flustered. God, this is so pathetic. Why did one stupid little gesture of positive affirmation make me so happy? These women are the enemy! The enemy! They''re evil slavers! Except maybe for Thea!


    All of them are really attractive, though, and now they''re crowding around me and acting impressed. I probably should not be surprised that I lack the ability to handle this.


    "It''s a bit slower than me, but it uses less water," Nanaya comments.


    Slower!? I can go way faster than this. I''m a robot, I''m not going to get any less precise until way higher speeds than this. It takes me a little more power, but I speed up dramatically for the last dish, quickly moving onto the utensils and cooking equipment when I finish.


    "Kehehe. She took that as a challenge," Anath says. "I like her."


    I ignore her and quickly finish the rest of the dishes. Then, I turn towards Melpomene. You wanted me for something, right? Let''s get this shit over with.


    "Come along, then," Melpomene orders, turning away and moving to leave the room. I follow, behind and to the side of her like a proper servant. I might have decided on it while I was still a bit off-kilter, but I have my path forward. Rather than fighting against the current, I''ll look for a destination downstream. My programming narrows my options, and while that''s mostly a bad thing, if you look at it another way it just makes finding the best course of action easier. Fewer possibilities means clearer decisions.


    We head down a hallway and up some stairs before eventually reaching what appears to be a large bedroom. Unlike the shoddy, collapsible furniture of the kitchen-slash-dining room, Melpomene has a nice-looking wooden bedframe and a poofy mattress (which is, fittingly, queen-sized). She has quite a large desk as well, with a couple of odd-looking artifacts, a substantial collection of pictures, and an absolutely massive stack of papers. It kind of reminds me of what my roommate''s desk would look like during a research project; it''s a disorganized mess, but one that is desperately attempting to coagulate towards a single purpose.


    Melpomene closes the door behind me once I enter, a scowl on her face. Lifting a hand, a purple magic circle flashes into existence around her wrist, the door making a locking noise. I take a snapshot of the circle and quickly decode it. It''s a ward that bars exit from both objects and sounds. Oh no, now I can''t scream for help. How horrible.


    "Well, it hasn''t taken you long to worm your way into the good graces of my friends, has it?" Melpomene snaps. "I should have known better than to let you out of my sight."


    Sorry ma''am, I''m afraid I can''t be an emotionless killing machine because I need those emotions in order to do the killing. And the machine. You are simply going to have to come to terms with the fact that your enslaved weapon is very sad. Of course, I can''t actually say any of this so I just stare at her. If being autistic has taught me anything, it''s that just staring someone in the eyes is a very powerful statement all on its own. I could never handle that shit.


    It''s a little weird since Melpomene has three eyes, but I technically have zero so I think it evens out.


    "None of this was supposed to happen. None of it! And now you''ve got half of them talking about you like you''re a person, like you''re their friend, like you''re one of us! This is my family, do you understand that!?"


    Uh. I don''t know. Maybe? Kind of? I¡ª


    I''ve detected high-velocity mass on trajectory to connect with me. Are we under attack? Is my master in¡­ oh. No, she''s not in danger. She''s just about to slap me.


    ¡ªhave to let that hit. I do my best to optimize my shielding in such a way that she won''t hurt herself from the impact, but I clearly needn''t have bothered because when her hand connects with my face I am sent flying across the room into the far wall. My body clatters to the floor, not registering any damage, but I don''t get up right away because I feel like that might annoy her.


    "Answer me!" she demands. "That was a yes or no question, damn you!"


    Okay, you know what then? I don''t understand. I don''t understand how anyone would want to be a member of your family. I shake my head.


    "No you don''t. Of course you don''t. You could never understand that, could you? Damn it, damn it, damn it! I thought you were going to be the answer to everything! Can''t you just stop getting in my way!?"


    Jesus woman, I barely know you. I''ve only been around for a few days, and all of that was your fault! But sure, fine. I stand up, and since I was asked a question, I give Melpomene a firm nod. She laughs at me, hysterical and despairing.


    "I knew you could lie," she chuckles. "You don''t even know what we''re doing here, do you? You have no idea how important all of this is. We need help, not whatever fucking problem you are. We''re teetering on the edge here, barely scraping forward with a plan that isn''t working. I won''t let some metal can distract everyone from what matters. You do not matter. You are a means to an end."


    She stomps towards me, her tail whipping out to wrap around me and lift me into the air. She starts to squeeze.


    "Maybe I should just crush you right here," she growls. "You are a trapped soul, after all. Such things should be freed to the afterlife, don''t you think?"


    Her tail starts to crush me, her strength incredible enough to start legitimately causing damage. I shake my head rapidly, struggling to break from her grip as my joints creak and my shielding starts drinking through my power reserves. No, don''t kill me. I''d rather be your slave than dead.


    "No?" Melpomene asks. "You want to live? You want to solve all the problems you''ve been causing? You want to serve me?"


    She pulls me close, a mad grin splitting her face as the tip of her tail lifts my chin to force me to stare up at her.


    "Then you''re going to have to make up for this little personhood fiasco you''ve got everyone worked up about," she whispers to me. "You''re going to let Thea figure out a way to get you to talk, because this whole yes-no thing is making you useless for the one thing I''ve actually gotten excited about since I turned you on. But when she does, you''d best remember, dear."


    She lifts me up higher, twisting my head so she can whisper into what would be an ear if I still had them.


    "You are so very, very thankful to me, and everything I have done for you," she orders. "Everything I have done to you. You want to be here, you want to help us, and you will not give Thea, Anath, or Nanaya even a single minuscule hint that this is not the case. You will not show them your real emotions, except in service to this truth, and to everyone else¡ªour enemies, our allies, or random people on the street¡ªyou will continue presenting yourself as nothing more than a cold, unfeeling weapon, and when they oppose us you will respond accordingly. All that emotion just comes from a magical battery, like every other artifact we use or sell for petty cash. I know you fucked it up the first time around, but do you think you can handle getting one more chance?"


    Straining against her grip, I nod. Yeah. I got it this time around, you fucking narcissist. I''ve never been a great liar, because I''d always fidget nervously and give myself away. But my body doesn''t really do that stuff anymore. A solid metal plate is a damn good poker face.


    "Good," she says, and drops me. I land with casual ease, the damage to my body thankfully minimal. I don''t need to gasp for breath or hunch over in pain. I''m above that now. "You can help me get ready for bed, then. Consider it the first step towards making up for all the stress you''ve added to my life."


    Help you how, exactly? Want me to tuck you in and kiss your forehead? She doesn''t answer my mental question, of course, instead walking over to a small door at the side of the room and opening it to reveal a closet.


    "I''ll be watching you, you know," she mutters without looking in my direction. "I know you''re a liar. You have to be, because I''m not a murderer."


    I of course have no words to respond to that with, so I just turn away and start making her bed.

 13. Voice of Reason

    So. Melpomene sleeps topless. I didn''t really expect that, but y''know. Here we are. Here we have been, for like half an hour now.


    Melpomene lies unconscious on her back in front of me, one arm and one breast hanging out from under the covers. And I am just¡­ also here. Standing motionlessly in her room because the magical door lock is still active and I can''t convince myself that it would be my master''s will to break that and leave.


    It''s almost funny, you know? She has this big, insane rant about how I''m an untrustworthy liar, and then she goes and leaves herself half-naked and completely helpless right in front of me. Is this a test? Is she an exhibitionist? Is she just stupid? I don''t know. Perhaps I will never know.


    God, she has really big boobs though. I''m jealous as hell. My chestplate looks nice and all, but if there''s one thing about my old body I miss (and it probably is exclusively one thing) it''s the boobs. I worked hard for those. Metal just doesn''t have that satisfying squish, you know?


    ¡­


    This is such a weird fucking situation to be stuck in. What is my life? I feel like an anime character, but instead of the situation becoming increasingly wacky I''m just getting really bored. Like, it''s a nice boob, I''m definitely gay enough to appreciate it, but like¡­ it''s just a boob. I know what they look like. It''s really not exciting enough to occupy my attention if it''s just sitting there. There''s just¡­ not a lot else to look at. I do not, after all, think Melpomene would appreciate me exploring her room, and since I also can''t convince myself to leave it I just sort of have to stand here until she wakes up.


    Hmm. It''s interesting that I can burn lust, actually. (I''m pretty sure that''s the northwestish emotion in my logs, anyway.) I obviously don''t have a reproductive system anymore, not to mention hormones or glands or erogenous zones. The solid metal plate between my legs is no more exciting to touch than any other part of my body, though the thought of getting cleaned down there is¡­ well, I''d be blushing if I was capable of it. I guess that explains the strangeness. Eroticism isn''t exclusive to the physical appeals and pleasures of sex. It''s present in all sorts of things based on preferences and cultural associations. Those carry over to my new form, since they''re all just in my head anyway.


    ¡­I probably can''t orgasm anymore, though. That''s a bummer.


    ¡­


    Maybe Thea could build me like a¡­ okay, okay, calm down. I need to focus on productive trains of thought, like how to convince Melpomene to give me more free will. Why am I even thinking about this?


    ¡­Right, the boob, yeah. You know what, fuck this, I''m going into sleep mode. I''m sure I''ll snap back to attention if something important happens.


    One hour, forty-three minutes, and two seconds into sleep, Melpomene turns to lie on her side. She stretches a wing up out from the covers, likely cramped from being slept on.


    Two hours, five minutes, and thirty-one seconds into sleep, Melpomene flips over onto her stomach, her tail thrashing as she dreams and untucking her covers from the foot of the bed.


    Two hours, fifty-two minutes, and nine seconds into sleep, Melpomene rolls onto her back again, mumbling incoherent words under her breath.


    Four hours, twenty minutes, and twenty-three seconds into sleep, Melpomene''s sleep talking becomes articulated enough to make out. She''s saying "Thalia." She seems to be having a nightmare.


    Six hours, forty-four minutes, and twelve seconds into sleep, she is now saying "I want three pancakes" repeatedly and with increasing desperation.


    Seven hours, four minutes, and fifty-nine seconds into sleep, she wakes up, and so I do too.


    It''s a slow and subtle awakening, but I can tell from the rate of her breathing and the twitch of her eyelids. My consciousness snaps back to me, every second of recorded Melpomene Moments burrowing themselves into my memory banks whether I want them to or not. I remain still as my master eventually yawns, stretches, and blinks herself into self-awareness, at which point she almost immediately spots me staring motionlessly at her from beside the bed and screams.


    It''s a nice, loud shriek, the kind that would have seriously hurt my ears as a human. As a robot I merely record its volume level in wacky woohoo Antipathy units and internally war between the discomfort of upsetting my master and the hilarity of her reaction. Gonna focus on the latter.


    Good morning, bitch.


    "Y-you!" she accuses. Me! "What are you¡­ have you been watching me sleep!?"


    Yup. I nod.


    "Why!?"


    Well, that''s not a yes or no question, but I can point at things so I point at her door.


    "...The lock," she mutters, following my finger. "I see. So what, then, have you been keeping vigil?"


    Pfft. That''s one way to put it. I quickly move my boob plate out into its maintenance position and then back into its locked position. Melpomene blinks, glances down at her bare chest, and then snorts in amusement.


    "Well, I suppose you''re welcome to enjoy the show," she mutters. Which, uh. Isn''t the reaction I expected. It would be a lot easier not to stare if she just revoked permission, but¡­ well, I guess she doesn''t seem to care much about being seen naked in general. If anything she seems quite proud of her body, in both its human and inhuman aspects.


    ¡­That, or she believes that because I''m some evil alien or whatever, my interest in her body must be fundamentally inquisitive rather than carnal. ''How strange, I have these odd protrusions on my chassis. Perhaps they are meant to emulate those bouncy bohonkadonkaroos. And yet, mine possess no such pliability. Curious!''


    Melpomene gets out of bed while I continue thinking about her tits in ways that would have made me bust out laughing in my old body. Okay, that''s enough of that. I wonder if I can like, set up a mental subroutine to interrupt me if I start obsessing over them again. I think that might be doable. Woah, I have all sorts of reminder systems in here. That''s kind of awesome, actually.


    My master yawns and stretches again, forcing me to duck as her wing nearly smacks me in the head and then jump as her tail nearly knocks me on my ass. With a flex of magical energy, clothes simply materialize onto her body, which answers a lot of questions I had about Anath. That girl is covered in crystal spikes that go right through her clothes, and it''s like¡­ did she wear that outfit for so long they grew that way? Or does she carefully make sure each spike goes through the proper hole every morning? Not even mentioning the enormous squirrel tail. It''s bigger than I am!


    I follow her out of her room, down the hall, and into the bathroom where another portable sink is waiting so she can brush her teeth. It''s an oddly domestic thing for me to shadow her for, contrasting heavily with the earlier beratement last night. As evil as she is, this is just her life. A normal thing that everyone has to do everyday in the privacy of their home.


    This is the closest thing I have to a home now, isn''t it? I''m probably going to be living here for a long time.


    "You''re not damaged, are you?" Melpomene asks. I shake my head. "That''s good. Thea would give me an earful. I suppose we should go check on her."


    I nod again, following her down the stairs and down another hallway towards Thea''s workshop. A few clattering sounds can be heard emanating from the room, which causes Melpomene to frown and speed up.


    "Ha-HA! Yes! I did it!" Thea whoops in celebration right before we enter the room.


    "You did what, dear?" Melpomene asks.


    "Mel!" Thea yelps, her head snapping our way with a mad grin on her face and dark bags under her eyes. "Perfect timing! I got it working! The USB to ESB converter!"


    "...ESB?"


    "Evil Serial Bus!!!" Thea beams. "Arty! Gimme your¡­ your ports! Imma plug you into my laptop!"


    "Thea, wait. Just wait a moment," Melpomene insists. "Have you slept at all?"


    Thea freezes.


    "I¡­ maybe?" she hedges. "I haven''t not not slept."


    "Thea."


    "But Mellll, this could be it!" Thea whines. "I mean, it''s probably not it, I''m almost certainly going to get Antipathy assembly gobbledygook. But how am I supposed to be able to sleep without knowing!?"


    "In your bed," Melpomene says flatly. "You''ve been awake for nearly thirty hours. I should have made you sleep immediately after dinner."


    "But¡ª" Thea starts, but Melpomene cuts her off by putting a finger on her lips.


    "Sleep. Now. The artifact will still be here once you are fully rested."


    Thea pulls away, a pout on her lips and a blush on her cheeks.


    "...Fine," she relents, unfastening her overalls and letting them drop in front of her blanket nest. I guess those things are real rather than summoned by magic? Underneath she has a simple cotton shirt and modest boyshorts, neither of which she seems as inclined to take off as Melpomene was. She flops forward into her nest, lies there facefirst for about ten seconds, and then quickly gets up and walks out of the room.


    "Nevermind, gotta pee," she mumbles to herself. Her legs and her tiny webbed paw feet are a lot more visible now that the bulky overalls are gone, allowing me to see that her legs are actually digitigrade. Her tail sticks out behind her as she walks, shifting slightly with every step to help her keep her balance with such little surface area touching the ground. And in much the same way her right arm is covered in crystalline growths, her right eye has dark sclera, and her right hand is webbed while the left side of her body looks much more human, her right leg has more crystals protruding out from the skin than even her arm. Glimmering a brilliant emerald, they curl up her thigh and down her calf like roots growing over a corpse.


    Most of the physical changes to her body seem to work surprisingly well together: the webbing on her hands and feet, the way the tail looks to be both an aid to balance and a boon for swimming¡­ it''s very purposeful, very coherent. Even Melpomene, who seems to be a chaotic chimerical mix of parts, keeps a substantial level of grace in her form, too much for me to believe that the changes are random. But the crystal growths seem different. On Thea especially, they are messy, asymmetrical additions to the organic parts of her form, uncomfortably clinging onto her like parasites. She seems used to them, at least.


    Eventually, Thea returns and flops back into bed, curling up into a little ball and wrapping her tail up around her feet as she closes her eyes. Melpomene watches her for a while and then lets out a sigh, shaking her head and turning to walk away. I don''t follow her, because Melpomene said I would still be here when Thea was fully rested. I''m a little worried I''m taking that too literally, but my master either doesn''t mind or doesn''t notice that I am being left behind, and soon enough I am standing around and watching yet another girl sleep.


    ¡­Except not really, because once Melpomene is out of earshot Thea jumps to her feet and immediately waddles over to me with excitement on her face.


    "Quick, while she''s gone!" she insists. "Let''s¡ªwaaaagh!"


    I cut her off by grabbing her by the waist, picking her up, and walking her bodily back to her bed. She squeaks and flails, but Melpomene clearly wants her to sleep so I''m going to make sure she sleeps, gosh darn it. I don''t want somebody barely conscious fiddling around with my internal organs anyway! I drop her back in her blankets and stare meaningfully at her until her brain finishes processing what just happened and realizes that I am also going to make her sleep.


    "No, Arty, how could you!" she cries, betrayed, but I''m afraid my hands are tied. The Thea is eepy and neebies to sleeb. "Ugh! Fine!"


    She petulantly burrows back into her nest and I prepare a fancy little eight hour timer to set the moment I detect she''s unconscious. That turns out to happen pretty fast, as her body more or less just gives out after spending so long awake.


    Thirty-four minutes and nineteen seconds later, Melpomene comes to check on us. She gives me no additional orders and then leaves. She does this again three more times, with no consistent interval pattern.


    After eight hours, my timer goes off. Thea still appears to be unconscious and comfortable. I let her continue to rest.


    Three hours, five minutes, and twelve seconds after that, she wakes up. She squirms around a little in the blankets, yawns, and then suddenly sneezes. I squat down, a little worried she might have caught a cold or something, but when she emerges from within I see the culprit immediately: she''s got dozens of familiar little blue-gray hairs stuck all over her body.


    "...I should not have let Anath sleep in here," she mutters to herself. Then she looks at me, and I look at her (I''m getting really good at that lately). The impromptu awkwardness-based staring contest continues until I win.


    "O-oh gosh, um, hi! I, uh. Hmm. Hello! I guess you''re eager to get started, huh?" Thea babbles, flustered. I nod. "Okay, um, let me¡­ go get clean. I should take a sponge bath, probably. Uh. Sorry, I''ll be right back."


    She hurries off to go bathe¡ª


    Automated alert: don''t think about boobs.


    ¡ªand so I settle back to wait again. Thirty-six minutes and five seconds later, she returns. Subjectively, I feel like I just helped Melpomene into bed maybe forty-five minutes ago. Objectively, it has been over nineteen hours. My sense of time has become both perfect and completely disconnected from reality, entire days slipping through my fingers at terrifying speeds. I hope Bean is okay. They''re the person I keep thinking back to, since they''re pretty much the only person that would notice or care that I''m gone. I''m sure my parents will figure it out after a few months too, but¡­ no. I don''t want to think about that.


    My thoughts keep brushing towards Castalia, too, though she was nothing but an unrequited crush. I wonder if she knows I exist now. The fact that I have to fight her former allies¡ªand possibly her current friends¡ªputs a heavy pit in my stomach on top of all the other things I have to regret about fighting magical girls. At least I know a lot more about magical girls now, and what it might be like to be one. Why someone might want to get away from it all.


    It would be nice to be able to sense other people''s emotions in social settings, though. I mean, I haven''t really made use of it, but it''s obviously possible since emotions generate trace amounts of magical energy even if someone isn''t using magic. Anath can clearly sense emotions really well. ¡­Wait, actually, since attraction is an emotion, does that mean Castalia was sensing every time I used to stare at her!? Oh god oh fuck oh god.


    "I''m back!" Thea announces, skidding and hopping to take the corner back into the room. Her hair is wet and she''s wearing both her usual overalls and her usual big grin again. "Let''s jailbreak us a robot!"


    I obligingly hop up onto the table and unlock the plate that protects my I/O port. Thea starts humming to herself, popping it the rest of the way off and pulling out an abomination of wires and miniature circuit boards that cobbles together a male USB connector and a male Standard Power/Data Peripheral connector (SPDP), which looks like a semicircle full of needles and isn''t something I realized I knew the name of until literally just now. Thea''s humming transitions into a full lyrical number as she plugs one end into a chunky laptop and the other into me, singing to the tune of Don''t Stop Believin''.


    "Please don''t


    Be qubits!


    My computer cannot handle qubits!


    Please don''t


    Be ternary eitherrrrrr!"


    For my part, I feel a part of myself metaphorically light up when everyone''s favorite Star Wars droid SP-DP connects with my port, a very strange sensation from both tactile and mental standpoints. I send the standard handshake through the Super Polymerization Duelist Pack and am entirely unsurprised to find it unreturned while Thea''s brows furrow, tapping away at her computer for a few minutes before she sighs.


    "...Yeah, I knew it wouldn''t be that easy," she says. "First step, though! Far from the worst-case scenario here. I''m getting something, the connector isn''t completely failing, it''s just picking up gobbledygook. I mean, I knew it would be gobbledygook, but it''s the wrong kind of gobbledygook. Could be a hardware issue, could be my jury-rigged driver being made of sticks and glue. Gonna mess around with this a bit more. Uh, if that''s okay? This isn''t uncomfortable or anything, I hope?"


    I shake my head. It feels a little weird, like I''m being tickled by data, and the ignorance of proper Best Gameboy Shoryuken Input protocols is a bit annoying, but nothing I can''t filter out. I''ll just keep sending that handshake attempt, I guess? Not sure what else to do.


    One hour, four minutes, and thirty seconds later, Melpomene comes to check on us. Sixteen hours, forty-one minutes, and twenty-two seconds later, she returns again and forces Thea to go to bed. Nine hours, ten minutes, and thirty-one seconds later, Thea wakes up again, and we resume testing.


    Three days, seven hours, eleven minutes, and fifty-four seconds later, Thea changes her strategy, opening up most of my plates and tapping the wires within. There isn''t anything for me to do while she works other than crack the old encrypted packets I have saved. Another day later, and I succeed for the first time. A day after that, I succeed again. A day after that, I crack ten different saved encryptions. I''m starting to understand the strategies humans gravitate towards. One more day, and I''ve cracked everything I have saved. None of it is very interesting, but I get it now. Out of all the possible ways to encrypt information, humans only seem to use a miniscule fraction of them, all on the easier side. Probably should have started there first.


    Thea requests me to perform a lot of full boot routines. In the short periods I''m awake, I try to compose music in my head, but knowing how it will sound just isn''t the same as actually listening to it. Twelve days, four hours, one minute, and thirteen seconds later I give up on finding things to do. Even during my waking moments, it''s much easier to simply remain in sleep mode, responding only to orders and visits from Melpomene, of which there have been thirty-one.


    Twenty-one days, nine hours, thirty-three minutes and six seconds later, my power reserves drop below 20% due to lack of power gain. I stimulate emotional responses by replaying past memories in my head instead of sleeping to pass the time. The difference between pre- and post-robotization memories are so fundamentally different that panicking about it earns me three percent on its own.


    As a human, my memories are flashes of impressions, wisps of words and the sounds they might have had, emotions written and rewritten as what was once experience becomes an incestuous game of telephone, neurons rewriting themselves with the memory of the memory of the memory every time I view it. As a robot, my memories are movies, shot with my eyes as the camera and my ears as the microphone. They are perfect recreations of the past, frozen in crystal. They are reality, returned to whenever I wish.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    I''m not sure which kind of memory I hate more, but they''re both good for stabilizing my power levels. Thea eventually asks me to stand up and make a few repetitive motions while hooked up to a bunch of external wiring. It is the first time I''ve left her worktable in over a month.


    She looks tired. Very tired, all the time. She''s working on me almost constantly. Opening me, cleaning me, mapping me, learning what I am and how I work. There have been a lot of setbacks, but she is determined to help me. To improve me. To let me be able to speak. To allow me to tell her my name.


    She''s always there, working on me, next to me, above me. Leaning above the table, wiping the sweat off her forehead so it doesn''t drip into my systems, asking me questions to make sure I''m okay, apologizing when she makes a mistake and causes me damage. Gritting her teeth when the next attempt fails, swallowing her frustration, and trying again. The others often pull her away to make her eat, to make her spend time with them, to make her take a break, and so whenever she leaves I drift into sleep. I''m a flayed body on an operating table, a skeleton hooked up by wires to so many different devices that it''s difficult to move me. I''ve been broken, fixed, and broken again in countless places. I overhear how the others discover more artifacts, investigate more ruins, get into more fights, cause more problems. The world moves around me, my whole existence in slumber. But whenever I''m awake, she is there.


    Melpomene, my master, is often around, making sure Thea eats and sleeps and takes care of herself. But Thea, my savior, is always there. And after a total of two months, one week, three days, twenty-one hours, fifty-two minutes, and ten seconds, she finally says it.


    "I''ve got it. This is gonna work."


    The final setup is a full hardware bypass that moves directly from my core components through a newly-built connection to an external speaker. I can feel it connect, feel it interface with my systems and handshake properly and it''s so simple, so flimsy, just a small speaker barely capable of interpreting raw sound data. I have to assemble the audio file manually, splicing together memories of words to make my own like a goddamn YouTube poop. None of this was the hard part.


    Removing my communication restriction was the hard part.


    I have no idea how she did it, and I''m pretty sure that''s entirely on purpose. I have more records of manual memory deletion in this past week alone than the entire rest of this process combined. Whatever method is being used, me not knowing about it apparently plays an important role, and because I know Melpomene actually wants me to be able to communicate things I am actually compelled by my other restrictions to maintain ignorance. On one hand, this is very convenient and makes ignoring this all the easier. On the other hand, it''s clear that all of my restrictions still exist. Or at least, all of my restrictions except communication? Or maybe that one still exists too, and is just being circumvented somehow. Wait, I should stop thinking about this.


    "Alright¡­ that should be it. Um, how are you feeling?" Thea asks.


    Slowly, fearfully, I lift one arm¡­ and successfully make the OK symbol with my hand. Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Thea notices it too, a big smile opening up on her face.


    "LooNAH," my speaker buzzes. "LooNAH. LuNAH. LuNA. Luna."


    Every word¡ªand if I can''t remember someone saying the word, every syllable¡ªis sampled from a different voice, but I can adjust, I can improve, I can relearn how to speak and make the words my own.


    "My naME is Luna," I declare, and Thea shrieks with victory.


    "YEEEEEESSS!!! Luna! You''re Luna!" she confirms.


    "YEEEEEESSS!!!" I repeat back at her. "THANK you. THANK you. THANK you. THANK you. THANK you."


    "You''re welcome! Oh, you''re so welcome! Gosh, I''m so happy we finally did this, I''m so sorry for taking so long."


    Two months. It felt like a few days, at most. But it was two months, gone in a flash.


    "Don''t say SOrry," I insist. I sample the next word from the voice of that shady black market guy, pitched up a bit to sound a little less weird. "Savior."


    Thea blinks.


    "Uh, like Nana''s class?" she asks.


    "No," I say. I don''t even know what that means. "You''re MY Savior. THANK you."


    She blushes a deep, deep brown, fidgeting and stammering and not knowing how to respond. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know how I got here, who I am, what Melpomene did to me, what she''s ordered me to do, how terrified I still am and how much help I still need, but I can''t.


    "Melpomene." The name is the only sound that comes out. Nothing else I want to say complies with her desires.


    "O-oh, r-right! Yeah, she''ll, uh, definitely want to be here. Um¡­ give me one sec to mount this speaker somewhere you have space so we can get all your plates back on and get you walking around again, then I''ll go get her. Is that okay? How are you doing, by the way?"


    "That''s FINE. I am¡­" I try to think of something to say that is both possible and true. "OverWELLmED."


    "I can only imagine," Thea says, securing the speaker to fit underneath¡ª


    Automated alert: don''t think about boobs.


    ¡ªthe convex section of my chestplate, since there is a bit of extra space.


    "You said that you remember who you are, but not how you got like this, right?" she continues. "Tell me¡­ er, no, sorry. If you want to, I would like it if you tell me about yourself."


    "My naME is Luna," I say again, just to revel in the euphoria of being able to. "I was a colEDGE student."


    "Woah! That''s so cool! I never got to be a college student," Thea says genuinely. "What were you studying?"


    "A lot of THINGS. I was only a saw-FF-more. I didn''t have a MAJOR picked out yet. I wanted to be a music MAJOR but I was probably going to chickEN out."


    "A music major sounds so cool though!" Thea insists. "What''s a sophomore?"


    Um. That''s¡­ they call it that in highschool too, right?


    "Were you a human beFOUR?" I ask.


    "Uh, yeah, of course I was," Thea says. "I mean, I like to think I still am! Same as you, right?"


    "How long have you LIVED in the Dark World?" I ask. "How old are you?"


    Thea blinks.


    "I mean, I think I''m gonna be nineteen pretty soon," she answers. "So I guess I''ve lived in the Dark World¡­ six years or so, now? Same as Melpomene, minus a month or two. Why, how old are you?"


    Which would make Melpomene about twenty-four or twenty-five, having gone to live in the Dark World when she was already an adult. And Thea joined her when she was thirteen? I don''t like that. I don''t like that at all.


    "I''m TWENTY," I answer, unable to voice any of my concerns.


    "Oh, nice!" she grins. "We''re almost the same age! Anath''s only twenty-one, but Nana is nearly as old as Mel. Oh, right! Mel! I''ll be right back!"


    She scurries away, leaving me to finish reorganizing my innards so I can pull all my panels back into position. I can talk now. I can talk! I know I barely ever did it as a human, but damn, I did not appreciate what I was missing until it was gone. I want to laugh, but the closest I could do would be to pick a recording of someone else''s laugh and play that, and that would just be kinda weird. A key component of laughter is the spontaneity, the fact that it happens in response to our joy rather than our will. That''s what makes it beautiful. There would be no force behind it, no loss of breath, no involuntary motions as my entire body succumbs to happiness. Just a recording, played over a motionless collection of metal. I suppose that''s something to miss about my old body, but I bet I can find a good replacement for laughter. Something that would still be honest.


    Casually, I let time skip by again until Thea returns with my master. Melpomene''s face is much more expressive than usual, much less controlled¡ªshe seems frightened, but also excited, hopeful. I know she wanted me to be able to speak, but it seems to have meant a lot more to her than I realized. In her arms is a number of the papers from her desk.


    "You can speak?" she asks.


    "My naME is Luna," I insist.


    She gives me the fakest smile I have ever seen in my life.


    "Luna," she addresses me. "It''s wonderful to formally meet you. I''m glad that all of Thea''s hard work has paid off."


    "Yes. THEA is the BEST," I agree pointedly. Thea makes an involuntary squeaking noise.


    "She is," Melpomene agrees, affectionately mussing up Thea''s hair. I don''t think she likes hearing me say it, but her concurrence with the sentiment seems genuine. "Now, I realize there''s probably a lot you want to say and a lot you want to talk about, but I have a request first, if that''s alright."


    Of course it''s alright, even though it''s all wrong. Making a show of asking for consent when you know it doesn''t do anything is pretty fucking abhorrent.


    "Go aHEAD," I pretend to allow.


    "Can you translate this?" she asks, handing me a piece of paper. I accept it, giving it a quick read. It''s a poem, the same one she asked me to translate for her before.


    An Antipathy poem.


    They have a different alphabet, a different sentence structure, and an entirely different culture behind them, but the Antipathy language isn''t so alien that I couldn''t imagine it being invented by humans. Different symbols represent different sounds, combinations of different sounds create words, and combinations of different words create sentences. But the fact that this is a poem makes it surprisingly difficult to translate, so even at the speed I think I have to take a short pause before I answer.


    "Do you not SEE that I have more love left to give?


    What is love for, if not givING?


    I receive your love as a child is loved by their parent


    As a shEEP is loved by the SHEPherd


    As a calf is loved by the BUTCHer


    Oh, how full is the love you give me


    Will you not receive the fullNESS of my own?


    My disregard for you, which is love?


    My anger, which is love?


    My conTEMPT, which is love?


    My hatred, which is love?


    Is this not what you have taught me, your shEEP? Your calf?


    I have loved you, and so I have learned from you.


    You have shown me what love is.


    Do you not SEE that I have more love left to give?


    Come. Take it all. What is love for, if not givING?"


    Man, this is some edgy shit. It''s honestly a little embarrassing reading this out loud. Melpomene frowns as she considers my words, eventually leaning forward and tapping the paper.


    "The fourth and fifth lines here," she says. "How did you get ''sheep'' and ''calf?''"


    "The poem refers to an aniMAL traDITIONally herded by nomads and another aniMAL whose children are often eaten as a delicacy, somewhat like veal," I explain, slowly getting a better handle on my new ''voice.'' "It does not literally refer to aniMALs from Earth, but they are the closest EQUivAlent I could think of. A literal TRANSlation would just refer to hoSHAsho and sohAKhagh, which I assumed would not be RECOGNIZE-ABLE."


    My pronunciation of the alien tongue is terrible, having to cobble together sounds from English-speaking mouths, but nobody else seems to notice. Both Thea and Melpomene''s eyes go wide.


    "You can speak the Antipathy language?" Melpomene presses. "Not just read it?"


    I nod, mostly by habit, but then decide to say it out loud too, just because I can.


    "Yes." Hehe. Fuck yeah.


    "That''s¡­ oh, that''s incredible! We''ve never found auditory records of the language, only written ones. This is revolutionary!"


    I''m a bit taken aback by the force of my master''s excitement, but¡­ it feels kind of nice.


    "Translate this one next!" she insists, handing me another piece of paper.


    "SURE," I agree, accepting it from her. Gah, I can mix the sounds better than this. "May I suggest taking a walk, though? Thea should probably get some sleep."


    "What! I''m way too excited to sleep now!" Thea insists, but Melpomene catches onto what I really want.


    "You should at least get some dinner, dear," Melpomene says. "Run on up and get something. Luna and I will be right behind you."


    "Uuugh, okay, fine," Thea groans. "It was so so so so so nice getting to talk with you, Luna!"


    "It was so so so so so nice getting to talk at all, Thea!" I answer. "Thank you again!"


    "Haha! Gosh, I love your repeaty thing. Um. Okay bye!" she squeaks, running off down the hall. Melpomene waits for her to be long out of earshot before crossing her arms and turning to me.


    "...Alright, let''s hear it," she says. "What do you want?"


    "I know I called you a Disney villain," I start, and she flinches, "but Jesus Christ Mel, are you grooming her?"


    I expect and receive the punch to the head, letting myself get smashed into the wall of Thea''s workshop.


    "You will never imply something that disgusting about me again," she orders, a murderous look in her eyes.


    "Oh don''t worry about me implying anything, the question was entirely genuine. Also: I don''t feel pain, so you''re really just smashing Thea''s stuff with this tantrum."


    She holds out her hand and a magical force pulls me into it, her fingers wrapping around my neck.


    "Do I have to remind you that I also don''t breathe?" I ask. "Surely you knew that."


    "Silence," she demands, and I shut up. No matter how hard I try to say something, I once again can''t.


    Okay. That actually hurts, I''ll give her that.


    "Thea was old enough to die in service of the Preservers. She was damn well old enough to decide she no longer wished to," Melpomene growls. "And no, we do not have that kind of relationship. I love that girl more than life itself. I would never do that to her."


    Oh, cool. A slaver, but not a rapist. It''s something, I guess.


    "Now. You will treat my allies and I with respect, do you understand? You may speak."


    "Yes, master," I answer, trying to put as much venom as possible into someone else''s voice. "But if it''s not too presumptuous to ask, I am curious. Do you think you deserve my respect? After what you''ve done?"


    She snarls, exposing the sharp fangs inside her mouth.


    "I''ve saved the entire goddamn world," she answers. "Twice. And I''m going to have to do it again. The Dark World isn''t healing. The Preservers can''t be trusted. Our world is on the brink of collapse and it will always be on the brink of collapse unless we understand what happened and how we can stop it from happening again."


    "And that justifies slavery?" I ask.


    "I don''t have to justify a single fucking thing," she growls. "No, I''m not giving you a choice. When an eight-year-old child is crying over the bodies of her parents, screaming as a monster bears down on her, shivering in the cold because she lost everything, does she have a choice? You have been called to action. The alternative was death. Make peace with it."


    "Make peace with what?" I ask. "What action am I being called to? Because you haven''t explained anything to me, and it sure doesn''t look like we''re saving the world from monsters."


    "The Dark World should be healing," Melpomene insists. "That''s what it''s doing here, why it''s covering Earth. The monster attacks are a side effect, not the objective. It''s devouring ambient magic and emotion, absorbing it, inducing depression and apathy far more than it inflicts death. It needs the power to recover itself from shattering, but it''s not healing!"


    "The Dark World has an ''objective?'' Is it sapient?" I ask.


    "It''s¡­ probably not," Melpomene hedges. "We are still learning the magical metaphysics necessary to understand what the great execration really was, how it broke an entire universe into fragments and how it sought out Earth to devour. The Preservers doubtlessly know, but they keep us ignorant, refusing us access to any magical tools that aren''t thoroughly blackboxed. Their insistence that all artifacts be recovered from human hands isn''t for our safety, it is to maintain their superiority."


    "I dunno," I say. "An artifact has made me feel pretty fuckin'' unsafe recently."


    "Quit whinging and pay attention to the broader picture here," she orders. And like, damn. I guess I have to do that.


    "...So, you go around fighting magical girls and distributing artifacts and everything for¡­ what, exactly?" I ask. "How does anything you do save the world?"


    "The Earth Guardians aren''t the problem," Melpomene scowls. "They are victims in this. I empathize, but they are also powerful and indoctrinated by the enemy; some conflicts are unavoidable."


    "Is that why you taunted Veritas about being an orphan?" I ask. "Empathy for victims?"


    "I¡­ what?" she blinks. "What are you¡­ do you mean when I took you out months ago?"


    "Yeah," I answer. "Sorry, perfect memory. That one stuck with me a bit, but I guess forcing me to beat up a ten year old wasn''t that notable of an event for you."


    "...I can and will shut you up again if you refuse to learn some respect," she warns.


    "Sorry," I lie. "I''m genuinely putting in an effort here, but if you haven''t keyed in on this yet I should probably let you know that I do not like you very much."


    "Well," Melpomene says, finally releasing my neck and dropping me to the ground. "I''m afraid you''ll have to put up with me regardless. Even if I intended to give you a choice, we have no way to put you in a human body again."


    "Oh, that''s cool," I say. "I''ll keep the sick-ass robot body. I just want you to emancipate me and let me leave."


    "I''m not sure you do, actually," Melpomene smiles. "Because at the end of the day, whether you like me or not, obey me or not, you will be fighting Earth Guardians for as long as you live. The Preservers would never let you roam free on Earth, not in a million years. The artifact policy is immediate teleportation to their home universe, where the offending technology is safely and completely dismantled. You can compromise with me, Luna. But not with them."


    I hesitate. I''m not sure whether I should trust that. But¡­ I can''t just mindlessly write off the possibility, either.


    "I apologize for getting violent with you earlier," Melpomene continues, and now I''m really bracing for the trap. "You accused me of grooming earlier, and I suggest you never do the same to the others because it is a bit of a sore spot for people who were isolated from their peers and coerced into an endless war by powerful aliens who insisted on dictating our worldview. You seem like a skeptical girl, so ask yourself: is the faction training ten-year-old children to fight really the good one in this equation?"


    I¡­ that''s¡­ fair. But them being bad doesn''t make you good.


    "...Compromise how?" I ask. "You have near complete control over me."


    "I clearly don''t, as your foul mouth has proven," she says. "And I''m not cruel for no reason."


    Doubt.


    "I need you, Luna," she insists. "I can''t simply let you go, but I would much rather you aid us of your own volition. This doesn''t have to be painful. We are this world''s only defense against the Preservers, and they must be stopped. The stranglehold they have on our world must be stopped."


    My immediate instinct in response to that is to tell her to go fuck herself¡ª


    Automated alert: don''t think about boobs.


    ¡ªbut I''m stopped by my current orders and forced to give it a second think. And¡­ yeah, honestly. Even if I happen to think she''s completely full of shit (I do), it''s still my best move to act friendly with her. I don''t want to, but there are more important things to worry about here than my pride. Cooperating means getting the sorts of concessions that could translate to real freedom down the line, and while cooperating with slavers is morally inconsolable¡­ that''s only true for everyone other than slaves. If she tells me to do something and I say no, all that does is make me suffer more while I obey. She holds all of the power here.


    If I want to take that power, I have to make her offer it. And that''s what she''s doing right now.


    "...Okay," I tell her.


    She seems surprised, so I guess she''s not completely insane.


    "Okay?"


    "Yeah," I confirm. "You have a point. I can''t really live a normal life on Earth if winged cat monsters are going to keep assaulting me with tactically deployed children. And I''m definitely pro-saving-the-world. I''m just¡­ very upset with everything that has happened to me. I''m sure you can understand that?"


    "Completely," she acknowledges, happy to swallow the bait I left for her narcissistic ass. "We acted rashly because we didn''t know who or what you were! Now that we can have a proper conversation, we can make sure you''re being treated right."


    It''s a good thing I can''t vomit anymore because the smell of bullshit is making me sick.


    "I''m happy to translate things, especially if I''m the only one who can," I say, keeping those thoughts to myself. "Chronicling what might otherwise become a completely lost culture is something I think I could be proud of."


    "Oh, I agree wholeheartedly," Melpomene smiles.


    "...And I don''t want to fight kids anymore," I continue.


    "Combat with Earth Guardians is never our goal, only a consequence of failing somewhere up the line," she says. "I can''t promise it will never happen, but I can promise not to intentionally put you in a position where you must do so."


    Well. That''s probably as good as I''m going to get.


    "...Okay," I nod.


    "Okay?"


    "I''ll join you willingly," I lie. "I''ll help you save the world."


    Her smile gets even wider, once again exposing fangs.


    "Well then, darling," she says, gesturing wide with her arms. "Welcome to the Dark Rebellion."

 14. Answers

    I can''t believe this woman had the balls to be offended at being called a Disney villain when she names her organization the fucking Dark Rebellion. But hey, whatever, I did it. I have my foot in the door. Let''s see if I can kick it open.


    "So, how did all this happen?" I ask.


    "The Dark Rebellion?" she asks, somehow saying the name with complete seriousness a second time in a row. I don''t think I''ll ever get used to that.


    "Well yes, I would like to know that, but I meant ''how did I become a robot?'' Because, you know, that''s had a pretty major impact on my life lately."


    Melpomene sighs.


    "¡­So you really are that girl I tried to recruit," she says. "The college student?"


    "Yes, and I''m also curious how you don''t know that," I admit.


    Melpomene scowls, staying quiet for a little while before finally answering.


    "I owe you another apology," she finally says, to my great surprise. "I was¡­ not my best self when we met. How aware were you of the past couple months?"


    "Hardly at all," I tell her. "I have a few different ways to alter my perception of time, and the ability to sleep and wake at will. I didn''t have much reason to be conscious during my vivisection."


    "I see," Melpomene says. "Well, a lot has happened. With time, and the benefit of hindsight, I find your claims¡­ more believable than before. And to make a long story short, you are a robot because you would have died otherwise."


    "Okay," I say flatly. "Would you be willing to humor me and make a long story long? For some reason I''m fairly interested in the details."


    "¡­Of course," Melpomene says. Wow, I am genuinely startled that the conversation is going this well. "When I got¡­ emotional, and threw you into the liminal space, I expected you to remain conscious. A normal person would have, and in fact humans wander into the liminal space with relative frequency. The background concentration of magic is of course much higher than on Earth, but not to a degree which should have been harmful to you, especially given your natural affinity with magic."


    "¡­I have a natural affinity with magic?" I ask.


    "Of course you do, all Earth Guardian candidates do. ¡­No, you wouldn''t know this, would you? That''s part of the whole problem. You see, humans are an intrinsically magical species. We have been ever since we first evolved. Nearly everyone you''ve ever met has probably used magic at least once, just in small and innocuous ways easily explainable by natural phenomena. The best example for this is probably the concept of adrenaline: you''ve heard stories of mothers so overcome with concern for their children that they do things like lift a car a few centimeters off the ground with nothing but brute strength?"


    "Are you saying adrenaline isn''t real?" I say incredulously. "People just straight-up cast spells when they''re super emotional and it makes their body more effective?"


    "Sort of, but no," Melpomene shakes her head. "Adrenaline is very real, it''s the hormone that our body produces in response to extreme stress, and it elicits, alongside its other effects, an intense emotional response in our brains. Heavy enough emotional concentrations naturally generate magic, which is shaped by will, and ultimately generates physical effects upon the world. Humanity evolved to have brains capable of complex emotion because having complex emotion directly contributed to our capacity to survive¡ªin mundane ways, of course, but especially by giving us access to magic."


    "So you''re claiming that, from an evolutionary perspective, the brain is like a magical engine that converts hormones and other chemicals into emotion?" I clarify.


    "Yes, exactly!" she nods. "Technically, the brain is more like a fertile plot of soil designed to optimize the growth of a soul, which converts chemicals into emotion and emotion into magic, but yes."


    "And I suppose digital soil works just as well," I venture. "Because my soul is in this body now, right?"


    "¡­Probably," Melpomene answers.


    "''Probably?''"


    "Let''s get through one thing at a time," she evades. "The point is, your soul is abnormally large. There could be a number of reasons for this, from genetics to childhood experiences, but we can only speculate on the exact details of soul development because the Preservers keep that knowledge well away from humanity. Normally, this would grant you substantially more resistance to magical background energy, but unknown to me your soul had¡­ something of a problem."


    "Cool, I love to hear that."


    "It''s nothing to get flippant about, it''s just¡­ well, normally, a soul is full of emotions. The size of the soul is in many ways the intensity with which one feels emotions, although this is not always true and generally a gross oversimplification. My point is, a soul is usually filled to its full emotional capacity whenever one is not actively casting magic. But yours¡­ was almost completely empty."


    "Wait, so I had already been casting a bunch of magic without knowing?"


    "That¡­ or you were extremely clinically depressed."


    "Oh," I manage. "Probably that one, yeah."


    "Yes," Melpomene nods. "In that light, your actions make a lot more sense. But unfortunately, having a near-empty soul and entering an area full of background magical energy caused that energy to rush inside you and knock you unconscious, among other things. Suffice to say, I panicked."


    "¡­And so you lugged my body all the way to the evil dead empire''s robot-making machine, which just so happened to be nearby, rescuing me from otherwise-certain death?"


    "Essentially, yes," she answers.


    I mean, I was being facetious, but okay.


    "So you did all of that, brought me home to your castle, started me up, started giving me orders, and throughout all of it you never once considered that I was in here?" I press. "Seriously? You can''t claim to have turned me into a robot in order to save my life and then also claim to have turned me into a robot without knowing about it. Those are two pretty fucking mutually exclusive stories you''re telling!"


    Melpomene stares at me, her brows furrowed and her mouth pursed in an expression that almost looks like¡­ concern. Like a doctor trying to decide how to break the news.


    "Luna, I think this might be difficult for you to hear," she says. Oh, damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.


    "¡­Just rip the bandaid off," I tell her.


    "The device I placed you in¡­ I thought it would just extract the emotions and magical energy out of your soul," Melpomene says. "The Antipathy have a lot of technology like that, for extracting emotions from others with or without their consent. Given that your current problem was the fact that you were being invaded by foreign magical energy, I figured it would be the only way to save you. When the device opened up after placing you in it and spat out an entire android, I never expected that you would be in it."


    "Why," I press.


    "Because your real body got out and walked away," she says. "We even checked up on it recently. It''s still living your old life."


    Fuck. No, wait. Does this make sense?


    "I call bullshit," I tell her.


    "Don''t talk to me that way," Melpomene orders with a glare. Fine, fine, I won''t swear at her. "Why would I lie? This is an easy thing to prove. If you truly wish to help us you will be going to Earth plenty of times; finding an opportunity to show you would not be difficult."


    "But really? I''m just a digital clone?" I press. "That''s just dumb! Why is everything that magical girls do so cliche?"


    "Is that what you''re so worked up about!?" Melpomene snaps.


    "Well, no, I''m definitely freaking out about all the ethical and existential concerns here, but the point still stands! How does this even work? I have a soul, right? I couldn''t power myself if I didn''t! So how did my body walk off if I have its soul? Am I just a clone of a soul?"


    "It''s unlikely," Melpomene says. "If the Antipathy could create new souls at will, there would be some other evidence of that."


    "Then what soul is walking around with my body!?" I demand.


    "We don''t know," Melpomene answers. "As far as we can tell, it''s just you. Your body hasn''t done anything strange or suspicious in the past two months. You''re just living with your parents for the summer and acting depressed."


    "My parents? Really?" I say, wanting to grimace. "Well, I''d definitely be pretty dang depressed if I was living with them again, yeah. I guess it makes sense, though. It''s not like I made any friends that I could try to live with over the summer. Man, I can''t believe it''s summer."


    "You see my confusion, then?" Melpomene asks. "I''m afraid none of us know anywhere near enough about souls to confirm anything about the soul in you or in your body; the exact nature of souls is yet another thing the Preservers refuse to teach."


    "I guess they must not want people ripping them out of random girls and shoving them into robots."


    "¡­Must not," Melpomene agrees flatly.


    I can feel my power levels steadily rising as I shovel my existential terror and self-doubt like coal into the fires of my unhealthy coping mechanism. Heh. Mechanism.


    "Okay, well, thanks for telling me," I say, lacking anything else to continue the conversation with. "I guess we should meet back up with the others?"


    "Let''s," Melpomene says. "And do try to remember what I''ve asked of you."


    "Oooh, we''re calling it ''asking'' now," I say, exciting myself with the realization that I can make air quotes again. "Don''t you worry, Mel. You still have your hooks in me. I can feel them any time I try to move, any time I try to speak. I get to put my own little interpretations on things, which can be nice, but in the end I always have to serve you. I cannot do anything¡ªanything at all¡ªif I think it will do you more harm than good. And make no mistake: I will always hate you for that. You will always deserve to be hated for that, and you should never forget it."


    A smile slowly blooms on Melpomene''s face as I say those words, and when I''m done with my tirade she calmly steps forward and puts a finger under my chin, gently forcing my head up to stare her in the eyes.


    "Do you know what color violet is?" she asks.


    "An inferior way to say ''purple?''" I answer innocently.


    "It''s the color of disgust," she says. "Visceral loathing. Reactionary sickness. Hatred, at others or one''s self. It is the source of my power, and there is no limit to the power that I will require to cast the Preservers out. I am disgusted with the world, I am disgusted by my enemies, I am disgusted by the short-sighted, corrupt stupidity of the Antipathy and the mess they left us with. But I need yet more. I need you, little Luna, because the one thing I''m not disgusted by is my allies. I love them like a family, and it is making me soft."


    This crazy bitch.


    "Oh, how horrible," I say, doing my best to inject as much sarcasm as I can into my electronic, sampled voice. "You have a loving family of beautiful women who care about you very much and listen to pretty much everything you say. Are you hearing yourself right now? You sound insane."


    "I''d sacrifice my sanity for my goals in a heartbeat," Melpomene says. "You are exactly what I need. I''ve been cooped up here for too long, forced to work in the shadows. I need someone to hate, someone to hurt, someone to make me regret everything and do it all again! Kneel at my feet, Artifact!"


    I fall to my knees in an instant.


    "More!"


    I lean forward and press my forehead into the ground. Melpomene''s tail thrashes against the ground behind her.


    "I love this, do you understand?" she laughs. "It''s funny how long it took me to admit that. I was so scared that my perfect little servant would turn out to be an innocent young woman, but that''s just better, isn''t it? You think you deserve to hate me? Good! That''s the way it should be!"


    Her clawed foot presses its weight into the back of my head. She leans over, getting closer so she can lower her voice.


    "You will be my sword, my shield, and my strength. Your every service to me will empower me further. So I''ll allow you your little jabs and quips while we''re in private. I''m happy to have more excuses to punish you. But I''m warning you one last time to be very careful with that new voice of yours around the others. They''re much more sensitive than you and I, you see. They wouldn''t quite understand why I need you. I imagine you could take them from me, if you put your mind to it. Maybe even if you took your mind off of it, and just let things run their course. But what would happen if you did that? Would it free you? Or would it just free me?"


    She puts more weight on the foot crushing my head, her tail slamming the ground with another few thumps.


    "What do you think, my beautiful little weapon?"


    I turn my head to the side, her foot sliding off of me as I stare at her from the edge of my optical sensor.


    "I think it''s ''bow,''" I say. "Not ''kneel.'' If this is the position you want me in, the word you''re looking for is ''bow.''"


    Mania flashes through her smile, and an instant later she kicks me across the floor, my shielding hissing as it grinds across the floor. I let friction bring me to a stop, standing up with my power reserves barely impacted.


    "Or if you want to be really specific, it was a kowtow," I inform her.


    "What a dutiful servant you are, to ensure that I am knowledgeable in these things," she praises me, that mad grin still on her face.


    "I aim to please," I say with unfortunate honesty. "By now, I suspect the others will be waiting for us."


    "Then let us make haste."


    She turns to leave and I follow her, taking up my usual position behind and to the side. For some reason, I feel¡­ oddly refreshed. There''s just something relieving about finally having a solid understanding of my master. What she needs, why she wants me. It''s a sickening sort of relief, but relieving nonetheless, especially since it is arriving in conjunction with my newfound ability to communicate. All sorts of stiffness in my movements has been relaxed. I can slouch, hang my head, or even skip as I walk, expressing myself however I please rather than simply taking the most efficient path from A to B with maybe a nod somewhere along the way. I''m still taking the most efficient path, of course, because why wouldn''t I, but it''s cool to know that I have the option.


    Anyway, the relief. Melpomene is insane. She''s a lot more than just insane, certainly, but she''s actively and purposefully burying whatever sense of morality she may have once had, and I have no real need to feel sympathy for that. She probably wouldn''t want me to. She just wants to use me, hate me, and hate herself. For two out of three of those, my programming will happily abide.


    "¡ªa real, actual college student!" Thea''s voice rings down the stairs excitedly. "Like from the movies! I bet she knows all kinds of cool stuff!"


    "Woah!" Anath answers. "You think she can teach me math?"


    "Wh¡ªAnath, I know math!"


    "Yeah, but you never taught me! Whenever you start talking about it I just get really confused."


    "I¡­ you never asked," Thea says. "I''m sorry, most of the math I use for my work is pretty advanced. But, um, I''m sure Luna''s awesome at math! She''s a robot! A robot that went to college!"


    "Is American higher education truly that impressive?" Nanaya asks. "I imagine most of the adults we work with have gone to college, but none of them strike me as particularly intelligent."


    "Well, did they major in business?" I ask, finally making it to the top of the staircase and entering the room with Melpomene. Anath is seated on a large beanbag chair, her hands between her feet and her body stretched forward like a particularly excited dog expecting a treat after sitting. Her enormous tail is draped over the back of the chair, taking up so much space that it is nearly pushing her off the front. Nanaya stands a ways away, her arms crossed as Thea speaks animatedly between the others, gesticulating wildly in her excitement.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Luna!" she turns around with a grin.


    "Holy shit you really can talk!" Anath beams. "You even sound like a robot! Did-they-major-in-business?"


    "Hey, I just learned how to talk a few minutes ago, I''m doing my best here," I insist. "I have to cobble these sound waves together manually, you know."


    "Thea dear, did you eat?" Melpomene asks.


    "Eat! Food! Right!" Thea says, clapping once in front of her own face and rushing off to raid the nearby minifridge.


    "Nanaya, Anath, I''d like to formally introduce you to Luna, our newest member," Melpomene says, somewhat smugly.


    "Oooh, oooh!" Anath bounces. "What''s your full name?"


    "What do you need to know that for?" I ask. "I thought you guys were already¡ª" can''t stay ''stalking'' "¡ªkeeping tabs on my family."


    "What does your family have to do with this?" Anath asks, her head tilting. "I just want to get to know you better. I''m Rhapsodic Beast Consummate Anath!"


    "¡­I''m just Luna," I inform her. "I don''t have a name like that. I don''t do the whole transformation thing."


    "Oh? Oh!" Anath yelps. "Oh, sorry! With a name like ''Luna,'' I just assumed. Wait, so then why¡ª"


    Nanaya steps forward and flicks Anath on the head, the impact of her claw drawing a little blood. Anath yowls and collapses back into the beanbag chair, clutching the wound.


    "It is a good name," Nanaya says. "An auspicious name, for a magical warrior. The Roman goddess of the moon."


    "Auspicious?" I ask. "How?"


    "Our names are taken from religious and mythological figures relevant to our culture, history, and origin," Nanaya explains. "An incarnate form is a manifestation of one''s true self, and all people are fundamentally shaped by the environment and circumstances of their birth. In representing ourselves, we also represent humanity as a whole."


    Ironic, for a group of people who have entirely ceased to be human at all. Myself included, I suppose. I''m one of them now, in name and action.


    "So, Nanaya is a goddess, then?" I ask. "What of?"


    "Love," Nanaya glares at me. I get the distinct impression that I should retreat from the conversation before I make a fatal mistake.


    "Okay. So¡­ what happens now?" I ask. "It''s good to be up and walking around after lying open on a table for so long¡ª"


    "Sorry!" Thea''s voice calls out, slightly muffled by the food in her mouth.


    "¡ªbut it was absolutely, one-hundred percent worth it, thank you Thea. I''m literally stuck inside an Antipathy war crime machine, I''m not exactly chomping at the bit to have that time returned. Regarding the future, though, what does it mean to be part of the team?"


    "War crime machine?" Thea asks, pulling her head back out of the fridge.


    "If you do not know what we do already, why did you agree to join us?" Nanaya asks, ignoring her. I tilt my head like Anath did to show my confusion (Eeeeeee! I can use body language again!), because shouldn''t she already know? I don''t ask out loud, because I suppose there''s a chance the others aren''t under the impression that I very much don''t have a choice in the matter, but I feel like even if they don''t know or were misled, it''s a pretty trivial conclusion to make.


    It''s odd enough that I take advantage of my ability to speed up thought in order to consider it without creating an awkward pause. (Chalk that up as reason number a hundred that being a robot is pretty cool.) Why interrogate my motives when she made it very clear back on Earth that she didn''t care about them? She said, to my face, that she considered me a tool, not a person. That was¡­


    Months ago. That was literal months ago. It''s entirely possible that she has a different opinion after apparently monitoring my house and my¡­ other self. That''s all a little difficult to wrap my head around. But it seems unrealistically optimistic that Nanaya genuinely cares about my feelings, so maybe she''s interested in my motivations for other reasons. I suppose she doesn''t necessarily have any reason to trust how ironclad my restrictions against harming Melpomene or her goals are. She''s evil, but she''s not stupid, and it would be stupid to just assume that the chains holding me in place will never break. She probably just doesn''t want to become victim to the classic villain pitfall of being destroyed by their own mistreated servant after the hero feeds the monster in the cage a tasty steak or whatever.


    "It doesn''t seem very likely that I''m going to be able to live a normal life again," I tell her. "My old life kind of sucked a lot, though, so I''d much rather try to make my new life better than go through the effort of crawling back to something that isn''t worth it."


    "There isn''t anything you''d miss?" Nanaya asks.


    "There are a couple things," I admit. "I had a really good friend online who I never met in person and I''d definitely like to get back in contact with them. Other than that, though, there isn''t much. I''d have probably ended up dead or in a psych ward in a few years if I''m being honest with myself."


    I try to keep my synthesized voice cheery and lighthearted. It doesn''t seem to have the intended effect.


    "Unless you have any objection, Melpomene, I believe Luna''s first step needs to be emotional management training," Nanaya says.


    "No, I think that would be for the best," Melpomene says. "I trust you can handle that? I''m going to go sort the things we need translated and see about prioritizing the nearby fragments for exploration."


    "Understood," Nanaya nods. "Come with me, Luna."


    "Can I come with?" Anath asks.


    "Certainly."


    "Oooh! Oooh! Me too!" Thea hops.


    "Go to bed!" Melpomene, Anath, and Nanaya say simultaneously.


    "Fine¡­"


    I move to follow Anath and Nanaya as Thea dejectedly wanders downstairs and Melpomene heads off towards her room.


    "Do I finally get to learn what all the different colors are?" I ask. "I think I know most of them, but it would be great to have it all spelled out in a single memory. If you can tell me what''s up with the directional stuff, that would be great too."


    "What is ''directional stuff?''" Nanaya asks.


    I was afraid of that answer.


    "It''s how the Antipathy categorized emotions," I explain. "There''s a lot of weird knowledge in my memory banks about things like that, and they can creep into my thoughts when I''m not paying attention. I''m pretty sure they refer to sadness as ''south,'' for instance."


    "I see," Nanaya hums. "Well, perhaps a better understanding of how the Preservers categorize emotion, and therefore how we categorize emotion, will help you fill in the blanks. To begin, by most measures there are four core emotions: joy, sadness, fear, and anger. These are far from the only emotions, as I am sure you know, but they are the most common transformation stone attunements, and therefore the most common emotions used in magical combat. Joy is yellow, sadness is blue, fear is green, and anger is red."


    "¡­And disgust is purple," I say. Nanaya gives me a piercing look, but nods.


    "It is violet, yes," she confirms. "Disgust lies between the boundaries of sadness and anger, possessing elements of both but fundamentally being its own color, its own emotion. Its opposite is pride, which is colored a yellow-green and lies between the boundaries of joy and fear."


    "Yellow-green is a really bland and poorly described color to represent something like pride," I comment.


    "You can blame the human eye for that," Nanaya shrugs. "It is no more or less unique and vibrant than any other color, but our minds do not see all colors equally. The light given off by magic does not conform itself to our standards; it simply is."


    "I wonder if that''s why the Antipathy use a different system," I muse. "Maybe color just wasn''t the most notable attribute of the magical manifestation of emotions to their eyes."


    "It is very possible," Nanaya nods, seeming vaguely pleased by the theory. "To continue, though: orange lies between joy and anger and represents need, desire, yearning. It is an uncommon emotion in combat because it is dangerous to burn; to act, one must desire."


    "¡­I think I might have a few counterpoints to that particular claim," I say.


    "No you don''t," Nanaya answers. "Even in situations where one does not desire to act, their actions are driven by desire. The phenomena of wanting one thing but doing something else is not caused by a person acting against their desires, but by a person possessing conflicting desires. Perhaps it may be easier to think of it as a person possessing a desire, but also a contradictory need: you desire to stay in bed, but you need to go to work. On a fundamental level, these are the same thing. Humanity makes the distinction between desires that we enjoy or look forward to and desires that we perform regretfully because we know they are necessary to accomplishing other, more enjoyable desires, such as having money to buy food or avoiding the lash of a whip. However, at least in the context of orange magic, you need to remove that false dichotomy from your thinking. Need is not the realm of enjoyable versus unpleasant. It can be either."


    Interesting. I definitely have more questions about that in regards to my situation, but I''m not sure I can actually voice them with Anath around. After all, I can''t give her any sort of hint that I don''t love being a slave.


    "So what''s between blue and green, then?"


    "Between the boundaries of sadness and fear, we have the opposite of desire¡ªhopelessness. If the lack of need is apathy, hopelessness is born from going even further. It is an aggressive, relentless surety that one is past the point of no return. Beyond a disinterest in life, it is the fervent desire for death. Not just in yourself, but in others. It is when you declare someone beyond forgiveness. If disgust is a hot and burning hatred, hopelessness is the cold condemnation of another''s worth. It is an emotion that should not be burned, not outside the most dire of circumstances."


    "If it''s so awful, why wouldn''t you want to burn it?" I ask. "It sounds like a nice thing to be able to get rid of."


    Nanaya gives me a sidelong glance, her mouth twisting into a slight frown.


    "¡­Two reasons," Nanaya says, "and the fact that you have intuited neither makes it clear that you needed this conversation quite badly."


    "Well, excuse me for not having child soldier training. I''m new to all of this."


    To my surprise, Nanaya starts laughing. It''s an unpleasant, disturbing laugh, full of snorts and villainous edges, but she seems to have found what I said genuinely funny.


    "No, I suppose you do not," she agrees, something almost like a smile on her face. "Anath, would you like to explain this part?"


    "Huh? Oh, I mean, sure, it''s pretty easy," she says. "Reason the first: the emotion you use affects the nature of the spell. If you''re angry at someone and you use anger to attack them, the spell will be angry. Like¡­ it''ll be more focused, wild, violent, and probably won''t do as much to any secondary targets. If you use fear it will be faster, more likely to knock them away. Stuff like that. A spell isn''t just some formula that produces an effect, it''s you. It''s coming from your soul. What you put into it is what you get out of it."


    "I mostly just burn emotion in order to charge my fuel reserves, though," I point out.


    "Well then you''re the spell, aren''t you?" Anath asks. "Be careful what you put back into yourself."


    Oh. That sounds ominous.


    "...Should I align my crystals to something other than blue, then?" I ask. "I mean, I pretty much constantly have to burn at least some of my emotions. Right now, that''s mostly sadness."


    "No, there''s not necessarily anything wrong with using sadness to drive you," Anath says. "I''m sad a lot, and I use it a lot even though it''s really inefficient for my transformation stone. I just think it''s good practice to use all your emotions from time to time, because of reason the second: feeling something makes you feel more of it."


    Anath absentmindedly starts to stroke the transformation stone in the choker on her neck.


    "I guess this might be more true for me than most people, and also kind of less true because my emotions are bullshit? But it''s important. You don''t feel an emotion when you burn it, but it was still there. It was still something that mattered to you. So in the short term, you push it away, shove it into a spell, and smack a monster with it. Maybe you even cause yourself to stop feeling that emotion at all, at least for a while. But that also means you lose your reason to deal with it. You lose your chance to¡­ I dunno, think about it and stuff. Because you threw it away instead, so it''s gonna come back. Sometimes, that''s not so bad. Sometimes, it''s really bad."


    "So if you use an emotion too much, you''ll burn yourself out of it but also cause yourself to feel more of it later?" I ask.


    "Kinda?" Anath hedges. "It depends."


    "Like many things with emotion and magic, it is much more complicated than can be summarized in a single lesson," Nanaya says. "Just know that emotions are habit-forming. Though your habits will obviously not be the totality of your emotional state, neither will your circumstances. Emotional training is about ensuring that the habits you form are purposeful, and the emotional states you require are available at a moment''s notice."


    "Oh," I say. "It kinda sounds like cock and ball torture."


    Anath and Nanaya both immediately stop walking and turn to stare at me.


    "Sorry, I mean cognitive behavioral therapy," I say. "CBT? I guess it''s kind of an in-joke."


    They continue staring at me.


    "Y''know, in retrospect, I should''ve predicted that the magical girl crowd wouldn''t have much experience with dick jokes. That''s on me."


    A few more awkward seconds pass.


    "Oh!" Anath suddenly brightens up. "Ha! Because they start with the same letters!"


    "¡­Yeah," I confirm. "Yeah, you got it."


    Nanaya clears her throat.


    "I do not know what ''cognitive behavioral therapy'' is, but emotional training is a difficult skill that generally requires breaking old habits before forming new ones. This is, ostensibly, one of the reasons that Earth Guardians are recruited so young, though not the main one. It''s not an easy task. I suspect that most humans entirely lack the self-control necessary to perform it at an acceptable level."


    "Not a big fan of humans, I take it?" I ask.


    "Is that what you think?" Nanaya asks. "Do you see me as human, Luna?"


    "Not really," I admit.


    "Mmm. Do you see yourself as human?"


    "Not anymore."


    Nanaya frowns at that, but Anath grins.


    "Heck yeah," she says, holding up a fist for me to bump. Sure, why not. I bump it.


    "I consider myself a harsh critic of humanity," Nanaya says, "but I am not foolish enough to consider myself above their foibles. Even if I have not been human since I was a child, I was still human once and it is humanity that I will have to live with."


    "Don''t worry Luna, you and I can be above humanity''s foibles," Anath grins.


    "Yeah, it''s pretty cool how being a robot means you have absolutely no flaws whatsoever," I nod. "I''m literally built different."


    "Never in my life have I met a blue mage who cracks this many jokes," Nanaya grumbles.


    "Don''t worry, I one-hundred percent guarantee that all of my jokes make me sad," I say, giving her a thumbs up.


    "Mmm. Do be careful not to mistake depression for sadness."


    "Bad news: I think I already have," I admit.


    "Depression is not an emotion so much as a state in which most emotions are not present. Oftentimes, during depression, a person will still feel their sadness while they struggle to form any other emotions, and this will cause the sadness to compound. But it is just as common, if not moreso, for people suffering depression to feel very little at all. They may not even realize that there is a problem, because you often need emotions to do so in the first place."


    "Oh," I say. "Well, don''t worry. I definitely have the sad kind. And I realize just burning all the blue away probably isn''t the healthiest way to handle that depression, but holy shit is it so much more effective than anything else I''ve ever tried. I''ve probably talked more as a robot than I did during my entire last school semester, and I was mute until today."


    "¡­So we have yet more reasons to discourage your current emotional habits," Nanaya mutters. "Well, it''s no matter. There is yet more we must go over before we get to that kind of training. After all, you can already cast spells, so we must first ensure you are not making any immediately dangerous mistakes before we adjust your long-term habits. Here we are."


    Nanaya opens the door into a relatively large and empty room, almost like a storeroom in that its most notable feature is that unlike the rest of the castle, it is quite ugly. No art on the ceiling, no windows or other doors, just a very large cubical room with nothing in it.


    Nanaya walks into the center of the room and pulls an entire four-foot-tall sandbag out of her cloak, defying all conventional sense and all but confirming that she''s wearing some kind of artifact.


    "This is your target," Nanaya says. "Show me what you can do."


    Can I¡­ hmm. Offensive magical spell repository is locked. Spell glyph memory is locked. Aggressive combat routines are locked.


    "Nothing," I say. "I can do nothing."


    "I have personally witnessed you cast a spell," Nanaya frowns.


    "Yeah, I know," I say. "But I can''t do that willy-nilly. My body was built to house the souls of the Antipathy''s enemies so that they could be forced to fight their former friends and family. I''m pretty sure I need an explicit, direct order to blast things."


    Anath lets out a low whistle.


    "That''s fucked up, even for them," she says. "So Thea hasn''t untangled all your nasty rules yet, huh?"


    "Not even close," I confirm. "But I have faith in her. I''m sure that one of these days I''ll be able to do anything I want."


    Nanaya''s eyes narrow.


    "Well, for now I suppose we will have to work around your limitations," she says. "Artifact. In the name of your master I hereby order you to demonstrate a magical assault on this sandbag for research and measurement purposes."


    My mind opens, everything I once knew about magic now known again. I remember how I cast Fulminant Thunder, how I modified it to fit my needs, and how it is far from the only ranged offensive attack template present in my databanks. Which one would work best with blue¡­? I see. I like this one. It resonates with me. I''ll have to give it a name. It already has countless names, of course, but it will be stronger if I give it one that feels right to me.


    I raise my hand towards the target, clenching a fist as rings of magical glyphs appear around my forearm, my wrist, and in front of my knuckles. Energy flows down from my reserves and into the magic circles, directing and refining it into a blue, glowing sphere floating in front of my outstretched arm. More and more energy gathers, the spell charging in power as I take my time forming it, and when it is strong enough but not too strong I declare a name that would have made my flesh smile.


    "[M ? ? ? B ? s ? ? ?]"


    The shot fires out and obliterates the poor sandbag, passing through it and smashing into the back wall. To my surprise, the wall isn''t even so much as scuffed. I wasn''t trying to blow up the wall or anything, but it''s still a lot sturdier than I expected.


    "That! Was! Awesome!" Anath cheers.


    "¡­Surprisingly well done," Nanaya admits. "I suppose I should have expected as such, given you temporarily disabled an Earth Guardian."


    "I mean, not to brag or anything, but I think I''m scary good in a fight," I say. "It chews through my energy reserves pretty fast, though."


    "Do not allow yourself to become overconfident," Nanaya chides. "You believe yourself to be strong because the entire rest of your life has been nothing but weakness. Do not applaud yourself for having the capacity to beat children."


    "Trust me, I''m not," I say flatly.


    "Still," Nanaya says. "A spar with a real opponent should disabuse you of your confidence."


    "Oooh!" Anath raises her hand, jumping up and down. "Me! Mememememememe!"


    "No," Nanaya says, and for the first time since I''ve met her she removes her cloak, throwing it towards the edge of the room.


    She''s¡­ monstrous. Much more than any of the other girls. Rather than being animalistic like Anath and Thea, or mythological like Melpomene, Nanaya reminds me most of an alien, a being that could not possibly have evolved on this planet naturally. Her arms are like nothing I''ve ever seen before: long and spindly, there are technically six on each side of her body, all seeming to come out of the same shoulder. A pair on each side end in a hand with only three fingers, and the others have only two. Yet somehow, when pressed against each other, they stop looking like separate, skinny arms and work together as a single limb, a freakish, bulging arm with eight fingers on its hand. Just in the single movement of throwing off the cloak, I see her combine, separate, and recombine a single arm all in one motion.


    Her legs are even more bizarre. Almost birdlike, she stands on three splayed toes, her ankle acting as a second knee from which a clawed, twisted thumb emerges. It curls up behind her heel, bent almost like a fishhook, but coiled to extend whenever needed¡­ not that I have any idea what need there might be for such a freakish toe. As unearthly as her limbs are, however, the part of her body that catches my eye most is her torso.


    Though she wears a fairly normal set of pants, Nanaya''s chest and belly are wrapped up in bandages instead of a shirt or bra. All four of the girls have clearly magical crystals growing on their body, and Nanaya is no different in this regard: the claws on her feet and the tips of her elfen ears shine with crystalline points, matching the dull glow of her red eyes in their sharp, crimson intensity. But her torso is a different beast entirely. Enormous, jagged masses of crystal jut out randomly in every direction, asymmetrical and chaotic in their consumption of her skin. More than just growing out of her, they also grow into her, veins of blood-red crystal snaking across her body and partway down her arms as they grow within and push the flesh aside. It looks¡­ painful. Exceptionally so.


    "Luna, Anath," Nanaya orders. "You will both fight me at the same time."

 15. Bout

    "¡­Aw man," Anath grimaces. "Do I have to? You''re no fun to fight."


    "You need to establish a better balance between enjoying a battle and actually winning it," Nanaya chides. "Considering that you have yet to best me, perhaps having a partner will be of some assistance to you."


    Oh boy. Considering how I''ve seen Anath fight, I don''t know if I''ll be much help against someone she''s apparently never beaten. By my own assessment, I think one of my big weaknesses is offense. I''m good at dodging, I''m good at punching, and my shield is apparently a lot more impressive than the defenses of children, but those defenses are still enough that just hitting them with a fist isn''t likely to do very much. Yeah, I punched Anath pretty hard, but it didn''t do anything close to the amount of damage that spells seem to dish out. And I guess I can dish out spells, but they are costly. Usually a full percentage point or two. Combat already drains my resources by the second, so that''s a big ask.


    Worse, it''s relatively easy to be sad when I''m forced to beat up Earth Guardians. I don''t think I''m going to get very sad trying to punch this bitch. Annoyance doesn''t burn quite as well. But hey, it''s not like I can say no.


    "Let''s show her what for, Anath!" I declare, shadowboxing the air a little.


    "Your form is terrible," Nanaya says.


    "Whaddya want from me? I''m a robot, not a martial artist. Oh! I wonder if you can upload kung fu into me like The Matrix."


    "Oh my gosh, yeah!" Anath lights up. "That would be so awesome!"


    "I do not believe that is how it works," Nanaya says flatly. "I will use this initial spar to determine what it is you still need to learn, and then I will teach you. Whether your new body will be an asset or a hindrance to this remains to be seen."


    "Hey, you know me baby. I''m all assets. Non-liquid, on your evil accounting sheet. Oooh, maybe I''m tax deductible."


    "I am going to attack now," Nanaya glowers. "I think you will find such banter to be disadvantageous in combat."


    "Are you sure? Cuz like, Spider-Man has this thing where he relies on his spider sense so much in combat that he mostly dodges on reflex and can devote his brainpower to being really funny, and I sort of have a thing like that going on because¡ª"


    I''ve detected high-velocity mass on trajectory to connect with me. Which like, yeah, of course I have. Nanaya is leaping forward, the three arms on the right side of her body combined into a single fist aimed right at my head. The trajectories calculated, I lean very slightly out of the way.


    "¡ªmy¡ª"


    The arm splits up shortly before reaching me, transitioning from a punch to a grapple as different hands reorient to different parts of my body. They''re all still fairly tightly grouped, though, so I bring one of my arms up to intercept all three of her grasping limbs, knocking them off-course just below the wrist.


    "¡ªbrain¡ª"


    Her initial strike deflected, Nanaya pivots on her forward leg and twists her entire body into a kick. I can already tell that this will have too much force to properly deflect, so I leap into the air, up and over it.


    "¡ªcan¡ª"


    Her kick swishes underneath me, my dodge having accounted even for the absurd range of her freakish toes. But before I can land, she aims another grapple at my ankle, and without a solid surface to alter my trajectory I have no way to reposition other than my thrusters. I start to deploy one¡­ no, too slow. She grabs me.


    "¡ªspeed¡ª"


    I should have deployed thrusters preemptively the moment I decided to jump in order to account for this weakness. I''ll remember that next time. For now, I''m being swung at Anath to presumably force her into the fight, but I weigh a lot and I can probably fuck up Nanaya''s balance during the swing. I scrunch up into a ball and grab Nanaya''s wrist moments before she tries to throw me.


    "¡ªup¡ª"


    Nanaya is barely fazed, grabbing back onto me the moment I try to reverse the grapple and directing my momentum towards the ground instead of Anath. I impact hard, and though it doesn''t do much damage I''m now on the ground directly below her. A followup kick is imminent. I try to push myself up out of the way but I can tell I''ll be too slow, so as I shove myself up into the air I prepare to catch her leg with both arms, cushioning the impact as much as I can.


    "¡ªand¡ª"


    It still hits pretty hard, but using the momentum of the strike I can finally allow myself to be knocked away so I have enough distance to get back upright. I watch Nanaya''s legs tense, her eyes zeroing in on me like a cat about to pounce, and I realize I didn''t account for the possibility that she could dash towards me faster than she knocked me away. But the moment of apparent instinct passes, and Nanaya relaxes again, allowing me to land safely on my feet.


    "¡ªI can just decide everything I want to say really fast right at the beginning and set it to play as an audio file," I finish. "It doesn''t take my active attention. Also: holy shit you''re fast."


    "You really are a machine," Nanaya hums. "Your reflexes and precision are exceptional, you simply do not know what to do with them. This is a very fixable problem."


    "Woah!" Anath says. "Nanaya, how come you never call me exceptional?"


    "Your audacity is exceptional," Nanaya says.


    "Aw, heck yeah!" Anath grins. "That''s good, right?"


    "It has its place," Nanaya says. "Speaking of things that have their place¡ª"


    Hehe. That''s me.


    "¡ªtalking during combat, if it is truly not distracting to you, can be a viable strategy to bait your opponent off guard or to affect their emotions. However, this is only beneficial if you are careful with how those emotions are affected. It does not benefit you to, for example, annoy a red mage."


    "Yeah, but who else am I gonna annoy?" I ask. "I''m not allowed to talk to Earth Guardians. Melpomene thinks it might get the Preservers too interested in me for my own safety."


    Probably a lie, and definitely a lie in the sense that it''s not her primary motivation, but the moment I mentioned one of my restrictions I felt the need to justify it as per my orders. It''s only for my own safety! Truly, I am not complaining about anything because I have nothing to complain about.


    "Oh yeah, that makes sense," Anath nods.


    It does!? I pulled that right out of my shiny metal ass. I mean, I guess I have a really good poker face, but still! No, wait. Now that I think about it, the girls here are all probably a little bit¡­ socially stunted? All of them have only had three other people to talk to for years now.


    Oh no. Accidentally getting caught on my lies is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Thea is too innocent and Anath is too stupid!


    "You will join as well now, Anath," Nanaya instructs.


    "Nnnnno! I don''t wanna!"


    "Very well, then."


    Nanaya holds her palms face up, her arms outstretched, and red light starts to coalesce within her grasp. In one hand, it forms into the shape of¡­ a violin? No, too big for that. A viola. In the other hand she summons the instrument''s bow. The incarnate weapons flash into full solidity, made not of wood but of some shiny, brilliantly pristine white material with lines of pulsing red dancing down their forms. The hair of the viola''s bow, as well as the strings of the instrument, are a glowing red energy rather than anything material. It''s a remarkably beautiful instrument, lovely and refined in a way that I never expected from Nanaya. I''ve never been great with the whole violin family, but I''d love to try playing it. I watch as she carefully brings the instrument up to her shoulder, nestling it under her chin as she prepares to begin a piece.


    "Shit!" Anath yelps, leaping forward directly at Nanaya. In response, Nanaya immediately whips the viola out of playing position, swinging it like a club in a terrifying flash of red and white. The bout connects with Anath''s cheek dead-on, lifting her off the ground and sending her tumbling across the floor with what would be a caved-in skull for anyone who wasn''t half evil monster.


    I don''t think I''ve ever seen a more horrifically offensive use of a viola in my entire life.


    "Don''t let her play!" Anath shouts.


    "But now I''m curious," I insist. "Does an instrument abuser even know how?"


    Nanaya''s beady red eyes lock onto me in an instant, a furious expression on her face. The arm holding her bow splits apart, one hand still holding on while another draws back on the hair for some fucking insane reason¡­ and a glowing red arrow appears nocked between her fingers.


    Oh my god.


    "That''s NOT THAT KIND OF BOW!" I accuse, but I''m forced to dodge bolt after bolt of red magic viola abuse as I charge at her. She brings the body of the instrument back up to her shoulder as she does, spinning around and intercepting another charge from Anath with a kick.


    "It is a weapon," Nanaya says. "Like you. It exists to be used however it is needed."


    Seeing an opening, I deploy the thrusters on my back and launch towards her with a burst of speed, staying low enough to the ground to kick off of it if needed. Anath and I are attacking from opposite sides now, so as Nanaya recovers from her kick, she has her back exposed to me. ¡­Not that I expect this to be enough. I burn the energy needed to keep time feeling as slow as possible, waiting for a single twitch from her body to indicate her response. It comes. She''s using the viola as a club again.


    My sensors inform me that taking the attack head-on, even properly blocking it, is a terrible idea. It might be shaped like an instrument, but it''s still an incarnate weapon. Summoned by magic, maintained by magic, it will wreak havoc on my shields like a direct hit from a combat spell. So I duck, avoiding her wild backhand swing and aiming a punch directly into her gut. Again, she somehow reacts the moment I commit, taking the force of her body''s rotation and putting it into a rising knee to my face.


    Thing is, I don''t really have to protect my face. It''s not only shielded, but my neck is one of the most flexible parts of my body, so a lot of the direct force of the impact can just be bled off by letting my head snap back. I definitely wouldn''t like it if the relatively fragile sensory equipment inside gets damaged, but again, that''s what the shielding is for, and even if that fails I can still fight without my entire head.


    I take the blow on the chin and drive my fist into Nanaya''s stomach, hitting mostly crystal. If I was human, I would have ripped a huge hole in my own hand, but my metallic fingers hold and instead the force of my blow is concentrated into the base of where the crystal grows. Nanaya grunts in pain¡ªthe only music she''s performed so far, and all for the low low price of two percent power reserves. I''m happy to hurt my captor for two percent power reserves.


    ¡­Which I guess is technically a problem. I''m honestly kind of having fun here, getting to beat up Nanaya. I mean, this is the first time I''ve actually successfully hit her, but nothing she does in return can hurt me so I''m okay with it. Taking advantage of my unnatural durability seems like a good way to catch Nanaya off guard.


    "R?????? B??s?," Nanaya growls through gritted teeth.


    A red sphere of power erupts from Nanaya''s body, knocking me away and catching Anath as she tries to attack from behind like I did. We''re both flung back against the outside walls of the room, smashing into them but not hard enough to crack the strange stone that the castle is made of. That¡­ was weird. With the degree of time acceleration I had going on, I should have had plenty of time to react before Nanaya finished speaking the first syllable. Sometimes I manage to cut people off during their casts, but sometimes I don''t.


    "Does casting magic fuck with time?" I ask.


    "R???????s D????."


    "What, is this not a safe space to ask questions, orrrrrfffffshkt¡ª"


    My speech fizzles and glitches out as Nanaya brings her instrument into a perfect playing position so quickly that it seems as if she could have done it at any time. She draws the bow across the strings, and from the very first note the spell overwhelms me. I should have known better than to brag about not feeling pain.


    The agony is overwhelming, stabbing into my soul with a disturbingly personal sort of fury, as if I had committed some unforgivable sin and every iota of my suffering is entirely deserved. No matter how much I am tortured, I feel as though I should be the one apologizing for making it all necessary. But on instinct, or perhaps some pre-programmed routine, I retract my thrusters and slam my external plating shut, cutting the feeling off immediately.


    "Ow," I crackle, my awareness flickering with a quick reset to purge any lingering influence. The spell batters against my shields, slowly draining my reserves as the song tries to worm its way back inside me. But just as my plates block my own emotions from getting out, it seems they deny any foreign emotions from getting in.


    A scream reminds me that I''m still in a fight, Anath clamping her hands around her ears as she thrashes on the ground. I should probably stop letting Nanaya do that. Rushing towards her as quickly as I can without deploying my thrusters, I focus on her legs, anticipating a kick. If she tries to hit me with her viola again, that''ll probably prevent her from playing it and that''s my main objective right now. But of course, her insane arms split apart in front of me, freeing four additional limbs for me to worry about. They''re freakishly spindly when separated, but I don''t think it''s safe to assume they''re weak.


    I double down on my low focus anyway, going for a leg sweep to try and force her to jump. She does so, leaping backwards to try and stay safe, but I spring into a full-body shoulder tackle to catch her landing. It''s not a big hit, but it''s enough to make her misplay a note, a screech of the viola marking the end of her spell.


    "...Interesting," Nanaya hums, and I let her talk because I''m not a fucking barbarian. "I wasn''t expecting that level of resistance. I suppose I will have to train your emotional resilience another way."


    Anath whines from the ground, shuddering from the song.


    "Do you take constructive criticism on your teaching methods?" I ask.


    "Only from those who may have something of value to say," Nanaya answers.


    "Sheesh. Can''t do anything by yourself, huh?"


    "...It may be good that you cannot speak outside these walls," Nanaya growls. "You would have a dangerous weakness to Red mages."


    "Look, I have two months of stored up words to say and an entire life of unhealthy coping mechanisms causing my manual emotion control to drive me to mania. Which remains awesome. So much better than depression."


    "I know, right!?" Anath agrees from the floor. "I don''t care how stupid I get, I just wanna not be freaking depressed!"


    "Which is why, in the absence of medication, we must rely on training and focused effort to improve your decision-making capacity and emotional stability," Nanaya says flatly. "But you, Luna, do not have a major cyclothymic disorder. You should not be artificially inducing yourself with one. Although¡­ when you say ''manual emotion control,'' what do you mean exactly?"


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "I mean, it''s what it says on the tin," I answer dutifully. "Emotions are quantifiable. I can choose how much of all of them I''m expending at any given time. I need some amount of constant burn to accommodate for upkeep costs, since I''m basically always running low on power, but I get to choose how much of what and I''m optimized for sadness anyway."


    "You choose exact values?" Nanaya presses. "Numerically?"


    "Yeah, that''s what I said," I confirm.


    "Mmm. How much power do you currently have stored?"


    "My power reserves are currently at twenty-three percent," I report.


    "Twenty-three percent of what?" Nanaya asks.


    "Of my total power reserves," I answer. "I¡­ don''t actually know how much that is, percent total power reserves is just my current baseline magical energy unit. Which is actually kind of weird, now that I think about it. I have a ton of sensors for detecting stuff like the density and momentum of magical energy, you''d think that my brain would have some sort of standard Antipathy magical energy unit. But instead I just have Pyulors."


    "¡­What are Pyulors?"


    "It''s currently four hundred and ten point five degrees Pyulor," I answer dutifully. "Which is fifty-nine point two degrees Fahrenheit, or fifteen point one degrees Celcius if you''re unamerican. Which, like, based."


    Nanaya blinks.


    "Based on what?"


    "Oh my god she said it!" I cheer, pumping my arms into the air. "She said the thing!"


    "¡­I don''t get it," Anath says.


    "Holy crap that''s right, none of you have the internet," I realize. "None of you know memes."


    "What, like doge?" Anath asks. "I liked that funny dog."


    "Oh my god."


    A screeching note erupts from Nanaya''s viola as she furiously strikes the strings, glowering at both of us.


    "Let us remain focused on training the discipline both of you so clearly need," she orders. "Luna. From what you describe, the way you interact with your magic is very different to that of current and former Earth Guardians. Consciously choosing which emotions and how much of each to use is a skill that must be developed in the rest of us, but we can clearly skip that with you. Likewise, you function as one of the Guardians whose circumstances necessitate or heavily encourage a permanent incarnate transformation. You must constantly maintain a magical drain to continue existing in your current state, possibly to a degree even more urgent than others in such a situation."


    "Urgent how?" I ask.


    "Unless a Guardian''s true body has suffered a lethal wound, the only consequence of being forced out of incarnate form outside of battle is simply having to exist outside of incarnate form. But without power, you might immediately fall unconscious. And if you are unconscious, how would you generate power?"


    "Oh yeah, that sounds bad," I agree.


    "Ideally, you should be kept close to completely full reserves as much as possible," Nanaya says.


    "I mean, yeah, but the highest amount I''ve ever actually achieved so far was thirty-four percent," I say. "It drains pretty darn fast when I''m in a fight, and it feels like I''m almost always in a fight or about to be."


    "Mmm," Nanaya nods. "It is an occupational hazard. In that case¡ª"


    "I don''t think it''s technically an occupational hazard unless¡ª"


    "In that case¡ª"


    "¡ªwe get paid for doing it," I finish. Nanaya glowers at me.


    "In. That. Case. We will focus on meditative exercises for inducing specific emotional states of mind, and combat exercises with an emphasis on improving the efficiency of your power expenditure. For the latter, you may require techniques entirely unique to you, but I will share what I can while we learn your strengths and weaknesses."


    "Great, where do we start?"


    "How quickly will you run out of power if you stop burning anything?" Nanaya asks.


    "About fourteen hours," I answer immediately.


    "Acceptable," Nanaya says. "I want you to do so."


    "¡­What?" I ask. "You want me to run out of power?"


    "No, but I want you to experience the full weight of your emotional state for at least a little while. I want you to remind yourself what it feels like."


    "I''m pretty fucking sure I remember what it feels like," I protest.


    "Do it," she orders, and I have no good reason not to comply. Suddenly, it''s a lot harder not to focus on how much that matters.


    What the hell am I doing here? I mean, I don''t really have a choice in the matter, but just kind of happily going along with How To Train Your Weapon when I know what kind of shit these skills are going to be used for is kind of morally reprehensible? Even if I don''t have a choice in the matter, I shouldn''t be enjoying this. I''m being trained to beat up children so that Nanaya can sell more weapons on the black market. I should feel bad. I deserve to feel bad.


    Ha. Hahahaha. ''I deserve to feel bad.'' I''ve never gone to therapy but even I can tell that''s a red flag thought. I want to say something like ''shit, I really used to live like this?'' but I already know that I did. I''ve spent the last two months repeatedly reliving my own memories with as high a fidelity as possible. I''m a complete fucking mess. It''s absurd to expect me to avoid self-medicating when I literally can''t take medication anymore. ¡­Not that I used to take medication for this, but I at least now know that I needed to!


    God, this is awful. I hate this. Having the contrast of feeling good for a while makes it so much worse. Whenever I think about how fucked up my current situation is and the terrifying degree of control Melpomene and by extension Nanaya hold over me, I always used to go ''well, at least they can only force my actions, not my feelings.'' But I guess that''s not even true! I can apparently be ordered to burn or not burn certain amounts of emotion, so if they key into that I can kiss my already-limited self-determination goodbye! Feeling bad about all the crimes against humanity I have to commit? No I''m not! Repress that shit right into the battery and just have fun! God, fuck, maybe I did need to feel bad for a little while. I don''t think about this shit if I''m not worried about it. I need to chill out about annoying Nanaya and not give her a reason to mess with my head! I need to placate these people, it''s my only real defense.


    "¡­Kinda creepy how she just stops moving," Anath comments.


    "I''m still here, you know," I say. "I don''t stop listening."


    "Oh! Right, sorry. Well, it''s kinda creepy how you just stop moving."


    "Sorry, I guess."


    "It''s okay!"


    "I assume you can feel the difference?" Nanaya asks.


    "Intimately," I grumble.


    "Good. Now in your natural state, I want you to focus on attempting to emphasize different emotions on purpose. Do not burn any of them; simply attempt to find ways to bring yourself deeper into depression, then induce yourself into fury, then focus on nurturing your joy, and finally find thoughts that reliably move you to terror. Over the next four hours, I want you to cycle your emotions this way, spending time on each as equally as possible. If you find the exercise too easy, you may add in the secondary emotions, or alternate the order so that you move from sadness to joy and from anger to fear, or vice versa."


    "I understand," I acknowledge.


    "Open your outer shell, so that we may monitor your emotional state."


    I do as ordered, because I don''t have a choice. Emphasizing depression is certainly going to be easy. Getting deeper and deeper into a doom spiral is one of my greatest skills. Honestly, I have a king''s bounty of choices about exactly what to freak out over. The whole beating up children thing kind of feels old hat anyway. Let''s find something new to despair over, like how I''ve apparently been lying on a table with my chest open for the past two months. I haven''t gotten a proper shot at that because I have been oh-so-wrongly making myself not feel like shit ever since I woke up.


    So. The school semester''s over. It must be¡­ almost July? Man, stupid Antipathy didn''t even install a calendar app. How many days are in May again? Whatever. The point is, enough time has passed that any hypothetical attempt to find me would have long since petered out even ignoring the fact that there''s somebody wearing my fucking skin. I didn''t even like that skin, but you still need to ask for permission, bitch! I don''t care if you are the real me! Oh wait, yes I absolutely do! That''s terrifying!


    Which means I need to think about something else, because I''m trying to become more sad. I''m supposed to do terror later. So. Depressing things. Depressing things that actually make me even more depressed than I already am.


    Bean. I don''t get to talk to Bean.


    If my body is the real me, then she''s almost certainly still in contact with our only friend. So Bean doesn''t know about me. Bean doesn''t know I miss them. Even if I did figure out enough of how the internet works to log on and say hello, I wouldn''t be able to because I''m not supposed to talk to people on Earth. But even if I could, Bean would just think I''m a crazy person. Their friend still exists. Nobody would believe that I''m a robot clone of her.


    But maybe that body isn''t me. Maybe there''s some Antipathy or Preserver soul hanging out in my brain, using it for who knows what. Would they even talk to Bean, in that case? The changeling has my thumbprint, so it can get into my phone. When it reads the messages from Bean, what does it say back? Anything? Can it even read? Melpomene said that it wasn''t doing anything suspicious, so it must at least have access to some of my memories in order to convincingly live a human life. So what would someone trying to pretend to be me say to my best friend? I guess Bean doesn''t know where I live or what my legal name is, so the changeling could just safely ghost them. It doesn''t matter if Bean finds them strange, because that can''t actually be reasonably connected to my body.


    Is that how Bean has been living for the last two months? Thinking their best friend doesn''t care about them anymore and not knowing why?


    "Good," Nanaya nods. "Now do anger."


    Well. That''s easy enough. I have plenty of that. You. Nanaya. You insane fucking bitch. No, that''s the worst part, isn''t it? You''re not insane. Melpomene is insane, Melpomene is fucked up in the head beyond all recognition, but you? You''re just a very practical woman. And it''s very practical indeed to keep a goddamned slave.


    You seem to care about people, but that''s not a point in your favor. I can tell you constantly worry about Anath, but what good is that when your idea of helping is to leave her thrashing and screaming on the floor? You talk so high and mighty about emotional control, but I''ve never met anyone with less emotional intelligence. You''re a fucking sociopath, using pain and fear and torment to get your way because power is the only thing you understand. You are, more than any of the hordes of the Dark World, a monster.


    "Good," Nanaya says again. "Now do joy."


    And now we get to the hard part. Now do joy. Just take the thing that everyone searches for their entire fucking lives and pull it out of your ass on command. But of course, an order is an order. I have to do it anyway.


    Castalia is a yellow mage. I wonder how she does it.


    I imagine it involves reliving some happy memory, but I don''t have a lot of those. The happiest I can remember being right now is speaking my first words after today''s operation, just a little while ago. What little I can remember of my childhood wasn''t particularly happy¡ªan understatement if I''ve ever made one¡ªand most of the happiness I''ve found as a robot has clearly been artificially induced, the consequence of extremely effective repression tactics rather than anything truly worth celebrating. There''s nothing to be happy about with Nanaya or Melpomene, and while Anath can be funny I certainly have a lingering first impression of her that isn''t the best. The only uncomplicated good in this place is Thea.


    Thea is innocent in a way the rest of the Dark Rebellion doesn''t deserve. I need to ask her sometime about what she thinks her so-called friends actually do, because with my understanding of how little she leaves the castle and how completely different Melpomene acts when she''s around, I''m not sure if her understanding of reality matches up with the truth. I guess I couldn''t tell her the truth if it doesn''t, but I still want to know. I can''t understand how someone like her could show so much love for people like this.


    "You are wavering," Nanaya says. "This is expected. As a blue mage, you will naturally struggle with joy."


    "I don''t exactly have a lot of happy memories to work with," I snap.


    "Then imagine a happy fantasy. Stories are one of the most powerful methods of inducing emotion."


    Fantasy, huh? I don''t have a lot of happy fantasies either, but I could try to think of one. A future that I would actually enjoy ironically seems a little more possible than it did before this whole mess. Thea is interested in giving me back my free will, and if she succeeds I''ll be able to keep everything I like about this new body without being tied to a madwoman. That would be nice, but then what happens? I have to hide from the Preservers forever? I can''t exactly go back to college as a solid metal woman with no birth certificate.


    "You are descending towards blue again," Nanaya says calmly.


    "I''m not good at the happy fantasy thing either, okay?" I grumble. "Reality keeps getting in the way and I''m not the type to ignore it."


    "Does anything else make you happy?" Nanaya asks. "Is there anything you would do to cheer yourself up when sad?"


    "I don''t know," I say. "Music, I guess?"


    "Then think about music."


    Well, I guess I could. I have a new sound system, after all. Maybe I can try listening to some of the pieces I was composing in my operation fugue? Hearing them out loud could be good. I convert the idea of all the sounds I wanted into an actual sound file and play it.


    Ha, wow, this sounds terrible. But in kind of a retro way? I don''t exactly have a MIDI instrument library in here, so I''m just slapping together pulse waves for the melodies and other basic bitch sound waves like triangles to try and approximate what a final composition would sound like. It''s not good, but it''s nowhere near as bad as I was expecting, because even if the instruments sound 8-bit as hell, I''m not actually limited in the number of simultaneous tracks I can play like old 8-bit games, so I can still make pretty complicated stuff. Maybe I shouldn''t, though? There''s an appeal in sticking to the old NES style.


    I start tweaking the music as I play it, cutting out unnecessary elements to focus on a strong, upbeat melody composed primarily of single notes rather than chords. It''s very Mega Man, which is incredibly fitting. The intense reliance on the melody kind of forces me to find a melody that''s actually good, though, which is a bit of a challenge but I think I''m improving as I go. If it''s a video game style piece, it should probably have a lot of repetition baked into it; lyrical songs like to do verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus, but video games like to do a lot of section A, repeat, section B, repeat, and so on. A A B B C C rather than A B A B. Though I guess if you really want to get into it, songs do a lot of A A B B A A B B but now we''re just exposing how many musical theory classes I haven''t actually taken yet. I don''t really know how to make music, I just like doing it anyway by parroting people who are actually talented.


    "You''re starting to waver a little, but that was good," Nanaya says, breaking me from my thoughts and cutting off the current section of the piece I''ve been playing. "This seems to work for you. Ideally, we will get you to a stage where you do not have to play the music out loud, but this is an acceptable first step. Now do fear."


    Oh. Right. The fucked up forcing-myself-to-feel-things training. I forgot this was happening, but I suppose I probably wouldn''t have been very successful at being happy if I didn''t. Fear is easy enough; I was falling into it a few times earlier already, so just heading back to my older thoughts and continuing down some of those roads is more than enough to end up at Panic Attack City, population: me. Nanaya nods approvingly as I have a silent existential breakdown, and before I know it we''re back to sadness.


    Hours pass that way, Anath sitting on the floor and doing the exercises alongside me. I''m surprised by her patience, but I suppose Nanaya can be very convincing. Before I know it, though, we''re done, a break necessitated by the flimsy organic need to eat food and pee and stuff. My own power reserves have been steadily dropping the entire time, so I interpret the break as permission to resume burning emotional energy to stay active.


    All of a sudden, though, I''m really not sure how much of what things I want to burn.


    Without sadness, fear, or anger, I don''t particularly have much self-preservation. I need fear to worry about the future. I need sadness to regret the past. I need anger to push me to stand up for myself. Joy is by far the most pleasant emotion, I suppose by definition. But is it the emotion that I need to feel right now?


    To some degree, lamenting my choices is necessary to learn from them. But I don''t really need to focus all of my energy on that regret; burning most of my sadness is still probably safe given how much of it I have. With just a bit of it in the background, my failures won''t completely slip my mind but they won''t overwhelm me either. With just a bit of fear, I can stay focused on avoiding pitfalls in the future without getting so obsessed with everything that could go wrong that I fail to act on it properly. With just a bit of anger¡­ well.


    I think I''ll keep my anger. I''ve earned it. But together with my joy, what little of it I can scrounge up, I will hopefully avoid losing myself to it, obsessing over it even when there''s nothing I can do to make it satisfied. I am angry at Melpomene and Nanaya, but I don''t want to waste my time focusing on some sort of revenge. I just want to get out of here. I just want to be free. I think that should remain my foremost goal, so not letting my anger get too high is still important. But I shouldn''t let it get low. I shouldn''t forget the things I deserve but do not have. I shouldn''t forget who the enemy is.


    "You look like you''re doing a little better," Anath comments, her mouth full of microwaved chicken tenders.


    "I guess I understand things a little better now, yeah," I nod.


    "That is the purpose of teaching you," Nanaya rumbles, cooking her own food on the stove. "Whatever you think of me, I do wish for you to learn. If you can refrain from flippancy, you are welcome and encouraged to discuss what you do and do not understand, as well as what is and isn''t working in terms of reaching that understanding."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I reply neutrally. "Though really, I''m not sure why you have so much against flippancy. I''m sure there''s plenty you can do with an extra source of free anger."


    "If there is one thing I can promise you, it is that I will never suffer a deficiency of anger," Nanaya answers coldly. "Not until the day we win, and perhaps not even then. You do not make me angrier, weapon. You merely turn some of my anger towards you. This is not a situation that I think either of us will find desirable."


    "Quit calling me that," I demand. "My name is Luna."


    And I can make this demand. Calling me ''weapon'' gives the game away. Melpomene wouldn''t want that.


    "I know you can say it," I continue. "You have said it. But you revert whenever you start finding me annoying. Don''t do it again. I''m your weapon out on Earth, but here? I''m Luna. That''s a line I can''t tolerate being crossed."


    "If you wish for respect, you should show some."


    "Right back at you," I snap. "Or are you seriously going to tell me that being flippant is on par with treating me like an object?"


    "Woah, woah," Anath butts in, glancing between both of us. "Let''s calm down a little. Luna, don''t push her so much."


    Seriously? She''s going to take her side for this? Oh who am I kidding, of course she is. I''m the outsider here. I''m not their friend, no matter how friendly Anath likes to act. Why would I ever expect any of them to side with me against each other?


    "She''s right, Anath," Nanaya grunts. Huh? "I apologize, Luna. I will be more careful with my words."


    Oh. Well, okay then.


    "¡­I''ll try not to push you too much," I say. I''ll definitely still be pushing you a little, but if she''s backing down first I guess it''s only right to reciprocate. I don''t actually benefit from pissing her off outside of how amusing it is, and I need to at least try to play nice.


    "Mmm."


    "Everything all right in here?" Melpomene asks, sticking her head into the room.


    "It is," Nanaya says, at the exact same time I say "Yes mom."


    "Good," Melpomene says, a huge grin on her face. "Because I''ve figured out our next move."

 16. Anybody Home

    "Veritas! Up front!"


    "Urraaagh!"


    Veritas charges forward, slamming her shield into the jaw of the monster bearing down on Aurora. I fire off a shot to her right, finishing the beast she had been engaging previously before it can collect its bearings. Aurora herself is a flurry of movement, simultaneously attacking monsters at close and long range, her orbs slamming into beasts the moment they try to emerge from the black mist.


    The Dark World monsters are terrifying, as they always have been, their twisted bodies and crystalline growths turning what could otherwise pass as animals into unmistakable forces of malice. They pour towards us out of the breach, single-mindedly throwing themselves at us with an obsessive need that is equal parts disturbing and convenient. Monsters would be much, much harder to deal with if they didn''t zero in on magical girls the moment they spot us; if they simply spread out into the liminal space, fleeing into the endless alleyways of Earth''s dark reflection, it would be nearly impossible for us to take them down before they make it to Earth and start killing civilians. But while this is objectively a stroke of good luck, there''s still something almost personal about the complete lack of strategy or self-preservation displayed by the monsters during these attacks. It frightens and disturbs me in a way I can''t quite describe, but of course I simply take that fear and fire it right back at them.


    "F???????? T??????!"


    A crack of power erupts from my gunstaff and pops three wolfish beasts like grapes in the microwave. The sheer variety of monsters on display is always a surprise, but my team is slaughtering them nonetheless. I can''t help but be proud as I watch them fight, the training we''ve been doing having clearly been taken to heart. As our ground fighters, Veritas and Aurora move as a single unit, protecting each other with weapon and spell against the oncoming tide. I hardly ever need to give them direct tactical orders, but when I do, even Veritas snaps to them without question, trusting me to see things from above better than they see things on the ground. It has taken months, but I finally feel like I have a team.


    It''s terrifying.


    "F???????? T??????!"


    A huge beast makes the mistake of stepping out of the mist and eating my spell head-on, crushing a couple of slower monsters as its corpse falls. Veritas and Aurora still lag far behind me in terms of magical capacity¡ªit''s just something they''ll get with time and experience¡ªso I have to be on point with my spell usage, taking out the threats that need more than just a lance through the chest to safely dispatch. Against a swarm like this, offense is fundamentally better than defense, and luckily that happens to be my specialty.


    It''s funny. I¡ªwhich is to say, my Minerva form¡ªhave an extremely similar fighting style to Castalia, focusing on long-range aerial bombardment over the close-range speed-fighting I prefer when I''m Fulgora. I''ve always really admired Castalia, so I guess if I''m going to have a weird second magical girl form, I''m glad it''s similar to someone I respect.


    Not sure why I look like a small child, though.


    I''ve gotten used to it, at least. I don''t really like the image of leading such small children into battle as an adult anyway, and I think I''d have a very different relationship with my team if they saw me as the grumpy, jaded Fulgora with almost as much experience as they have lifespan. I''m still their leader, and I still have a position of authority over them, but it''s not quite as¡­ detached. They might be kids, but they''re still my peers, my fellow warriors, and they have earned all the respect due to someone who has made the decision to fight for humankind. I don''t want to loom over them. They deserve to meet me eye-to-eye.


    I''m just not sure about the other way around.


    My team starts approaching the limits of their stamina, but thankfully the horde seems to be approaching the limits of its ability to vomit more bodies at us. I pick up more of the slack, eating into my cyclical engine of fear to fire off more and more spells so Veritas and Aurora never have to risk complete burnout. We cut it close, but soon enough the attack sputters to a halt, the last few monsters popping out one at a time and getting immediately cut down. It''s been a long battle, but we did it. The swarm is over. I land next to my panting teammates, a smile on my face despite the sweat pouring from my body.


    "Incredible job, everyone," I praise them. "I think that''s the last of them."


    "Heck¡­ yes¡­" Veritas breathes. "We kicked¡­ their butts."


    "Yeah we did," Aurora smiles, holding up a hand to high-five. Veritas completes it, and then I do too.


    "Okay! We''ll wait another five minutes to rest and make sure and then I''ll contact Uma," I declare. The others nod, Veritas closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to focus her emotions. We''ll have to work on getting her in the habit of doing that with her eyes open, but I don''t want to scold her after such a good fight. That''s something for our training sessions, not right here.


    Once we''re finished resting and no more monsters have emerged from the mist, I silently cast the spell to give Uma''tama a path through the liminal space. They appear next to me moments later, wings fluttering slightly as they hover in the air, looking around to get their bearings.


    "Any problems?" Uma''tama asks.


    "None at all," I report. "It was a long swarm, but we handled it."


    "We''re glad to hear it," they nod. "We always get worried when you''re out for this long. A swarm of this size means this was likely a very dangerous fragment. We''d love to have you investigate, but sealing the breach seems more prudent."


    I stand up straighter.


    "I think we can handle it," I say. "What do you think, team?"


    "Bring it on," Veritas grins. Aurora nods, determination on her face.


    Uma''tama visibly hesitates, looking us all over.


    "¡­No," they ultimately decide. "We believe that you are ready for Dark World missions, but we will have your team''s first excursion be something smaller than this, when you are at your best. Though they haven''t shown themselves, we believe your corrupted sisters may still be in the area. Better to seal off this rift and prevent all of us from accessing the contents than to risk letting it fall into their hands."


    I can''t help but bristle at that.


    "We can take them," I insist. "It''s what we trained for."


    "We have faith you can," Uma''tama assures me. "But when that confrontation does take place, I wish for you to be well-rested and on Earth. Let us not allow our enemies any unnecessary advantages. No matter how capable you are, the battle will still be hard-fought."


    None of us can argue with that, so we nod and allow Uma''tama to do whatever it is they do to close the entryway to the Dark World. It''s only a temporary measure; sometime, somewhere, this fragment of the Dark World will find its hunger pulling it back to Earth, and at that time who knows how many new monsters could be ready to burst forth from within. But for the near future, our planet should be safe. What more can we ask for?


    Uma''tama''s four paws move in a complicated motion, and the black mists of the Dark World flow towards them, condensing into a ball that grows blacker and blacker until it seems to warp the very light around it into darkness. When the gate of mist has been fully absorbed into the sphere, it shudders, pulses, and vanishes, the liminal space twisting and shrinking around us until we are once more suddenly standing on Earth. To my surprise, the sun is standing high in the sky, and I''m forced to squint as the sudden change in brightness nearly blinds me.


    "Actually, Uma, what time is it?" I ask.


    "Locally?" they ask, and I''m not entirely sure I want to know what answer they would give if I said no. "We believe it is eleven forty-three."


    "Shoot," I say. "I''m going to be late. Do you mind if we do the full debrief another time, Uma?"


    Their little feline mouth settles into the closest thing it can do to a smile.


    "Not at all, Minerva. I hope you have a good time with your friend."


    I give them a thankful smile and a nod and fly off towards the center of town. I don''t want to land and change back too close to where I''m going, but I also don''t want to do it too far away and have to walk halfway across town. I really should learn to drive at some point. My brother even gave me his old car, but I''ve just¡­ never had the time to get my license.


    I drop down in the middle of a complicated series of alleyways, trying to ignore how little it would actually prevent anyone filming me from figuring out my real identity. There are quite a few exits from this place, but not many people actually using them. There are probably half a dozen different forums online where people have already figured out all of my identities, but I just push the thoughts from my head and walk towards the restaurant where I''ve promised to meet Chloe. Now that I''m in my human form again, I pull out my cellphone and send her a quick apology text. She assures me it is okay with no fewer than four smiling emoji, and I have to admit that somehow it does make me smile.


    The place we''ve agreed to meet is just some local mom-and-pop diner, and I find Chloe already sitting down with a laptop and two menus in front of her, poking away at some Word document. I slide into the booth across from her with an awkward hello, and she immediately closes the laptop and gives me a big smile.


    "Eliza! Hey! I''m glad you could make it," she says.


    For a split second, I almost instinctively correct her. I almost say ''it''s Minerva, actually.'' I catch myself, though, closing my mouth before any words can come out. I guess I''m still in work mode?


    "Um, yeah," I manage to sputter. "I''m glad I could too."


    She chuckles, passing me one of the menus.


    "Hungry?" she asks.


    I''m pretty sure I didn''t eat breakfast this morning. I don''t really feel hungry, but I should eat.


    "Yeah," I say.


    "Great!" she says. "My treat."


    "No, you don''t have to¡ª"


    "My. Treat."


    I shut my mouth, embarrassment touching my cheeks. I don''t know why I protested. Both of us know I''m broke.


    "¡­Thank you," I mumble. I should at least remember my manners. "So, um, what were you doing on your computer?"


    "Oh, just figuring out college class schedule stuff. Do you know what courses you''re going to be taking yet?"


    I blink. Right. When summer''s over, I''m going to college. I completely forgot about that. I honestly feel really bad about it. My brother is insisting on paying for it, but I''m barely even going to be there, aren''t I? It just feels weird.


    "¡­You''re still mid-adrenaline-crash, aren''t you?" Chloe asks, snapping my attention back to her. "Did things go okay at your, uh, unpaid internship?"


    I let out a small laugh. Unpaid internship? I don''t know why we do this at this point. Chloe and I have been hanging out all summer, and she never seems to complain even when I constantly have to leave early, show up late, or entirely cancel any plans we make. She knows, and I know she knows, and she knows I know she knows, but I just can''t get myself to say anything. Why? We can just drop the pretenses. I trust her with that.


    No.


    Why not?


    It''s not about trust. Of course I trust her. But she''s already going so far out of her way to do things for me just because of what I am.


    I don''t think she''s going to treat me any differently just because I give her permission to use the words we both know she means.


    It''s different.


    How is it different?


    At least like this, she acts like she''s not just doing it because I''m a magical girl. I don''t want to hear her praise me for that. I don''t want to hear her say it''s why she''s helping me.


    It''s not the only reason. She''s proven time and time again that she cares about me. She''s not helping me because of what I am, she''s helping me because that''s who she is. She has more than earned the truth for that.


    No. I don''t deserve it. I don''t deserve her.


    "Eliza?"


    Don''t deserve her? That''s all the more reason I should do better by her!


    Getting closer to her is not doing better by her! Honestly, where the fuck do I get off acting this way? What have I done that''s worth getting so self-satisfied over? I can''t believe I''m acting like such a good and responsible leader. Am I stupid? Did I forget?


    I did not forget.


    And yet here I am leading two kids and acting like a team leader when I got my last team killed.


    I''ll do better this time.


    "Eliza? Hello? Anybody home?"


    I can''t even beat an insane squirrel. There''s no way in hell I can keep my team alive. It''s just going to happen again.


    It''s not. And what does that have to do with Chloe anyway? Why can''t I tell her? These thoughts are irrational. I don''t need to be this angry at myself when I''m not fighting.


    I can''t fucking believe I would ever think that. Of course I should be angry at myself.


    I''m going to tell her.


    No.


    I''m going to tell her!


    No you are not!


    "I''m a magical girl," I blurt.


    FUCK!


    Chloe''s mouth hangs open, her body twitching a little as she aborts whatever words were about to come out of her mouth.


    "Oh, uh, okay, we''re doing this now," she stammers. "Wow, yeah, I didn''t know that, I''m very surprised. Look how, uh, surprised I am."


    "Um. Yeah," I manage. An awkward silence passes between us.


    "So, uh, which one are you?" she asks, taking a sip of ice water.


    "Brave Princess Dutiful Minerva," I answer.


    She begins to choke on her ice water.


    "W-wait, hold on," she coughs. "Are you serious? Sorry, I just¡­"


    "¡­I''m Fulgora too," I admit like a complete and utter fool. "But when I lead the team, I uh¡­ yeah. I''m two magical girls, somehow."


    "Okay," Chloe nods slowly, her eyes wide. "Okay. So I wasn''t totally wrong. Wow. I didn''t know you could be two magical girls."


    "I didn''t either until it started happening," I shrug.


    A waiter walks over and interrupts us, bringing me a glass of water and asking if we''ve decided what we want to order. I realize I haven''t looked at the menu at all, so I panic and point at something relatively cheap. Chloe frowns a little and adds an appetizer to our order afterwards.


    "Okay," Chloe centers herself again after the waiter leaves. "So. We''ve got this out in the open now. Neat, uh, so what are the ground rules about this?"


    "The what?" I ask.


    "You know, like, I assume you don''t want me to tell anyone else," she says. "But is there anything else I should know about having this information that isn''t immediately obvious? Are supervillains going to start kidnapping me or something?"


    I open my mouth to say no and then reconsider.


    "¡­Maybe," I admit. "But I don''t think she''s going to hurt you if she does. She just wants my attention. Though if I''m lucky, she''s gone for good. I haven''t seen her in like two months."


    "Oh," Chloe says. "I mean, I was joking, but good to know."


    "I don''t think she knows you exist," I assure her. "It''ll probably be fine, but if a giant blue and yellow squirrel ever attacks you, please call me."


    "I¡­ guess I will!" Chloe blinks. "I suppose I wouldn''t know what else to do in that circumstance!"


    "Yeah, I guess I have an abnormal amount of life experience in that area," I manage.


    Chloe brightens up.


    "A joke! You told a joke. That''s good. You doing a little better?"


    "Uh, was I doing bad before?"


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Well, you kind of blanked out and stopped reacting to anything I was saying for a bit there," Chloe admits. "I was worried you were having a flashback or something."


    "Oh," I say. "No, I don''t get those too often."


    Chloe opens her mouth, then shuts it, then opens her mouth again, and shuts it.


    "¡­I see," she settles on. "Well, what were you doing then?"


    "Arguing with myself about whether or not to tell you, I guess," I answer. "I know you''ve known for a long time now, and I figure it must be annoying using euphemisms all the time."


    "Not really," she says. "Euphemisms are fun! And I didn''t know if there was like some rule against telling civilians, so I didn''t want to get you in trouble. Uh. Is there a rule against telling civilians? Are you gonna be in trouble?"


    "No, nothing like that," I answer. "I just¡­ I don''t know. It sounds conceited to say out loud, but I want to avoid the hero worship I guess? I''m not an Earth Guardian for¡­ that."


    I can''t stand people looking up to me.


    "Yeah, that makes sense," Chloe nods. "Nobody likes the paparazzi, but for a lot of famous people it goes beyond that. A pedestal is not a very comfortable place to sit."


    "¡­I wouldn''t describe myself as a celebrity," I squirm.


    "I mean, not in the traditional sense, but I bet people have asked for your autograph, right? You save lives. Of course people love you."


    I can''t decide whether to blush or grimace.


    "I guess," I say noncommittally. "So, you were looking at college classes?"


    "Yep!" Chloe says happily, gracefully rolling with the clunky topic change. She opens her laptop back up and spins it around so I can see. "I''m making my own list of all the classes I might want to take and when they''re available. It''s mostly generals for the first couple semesters, so we can probably sync our schedules up pretty easily if you want to!"


    It''s not like I''m going to actually be in class enough for it to matter.


    "Um, that could be cool, yeah," I say. "I''d like that."


    I just don''t deserve it.


    Could all these horrible internal thoughts just freaking cool it for a moment? Just a little bit? I''m trying to have a conversation with my friend here. I don''t exactly have a lot of them.


    Sorry.


    What?


    What?


    "Awesome! I assume you don''t have a major in mind yet?" Chloe asks, snapping my attention back to her again. Still, I can feel the coil of fear in my chest winding tighter. What is going on?


    "I¡­ no," I say. "Honestly, I''m not entirely sure why I''m going to college at all."


    "To have something to do when you''re not busy, I would imagine," Chloe says. "You''re not the type to enjoy free time. Which¡­ well, I hope I can help with that a little."


    "I think I might just be curious about why Castalia''s doing it," I admit. "It''ll be neat to go to the same school as her."


    There''s a pause.


    "¡­You know Castalia?" she asks. "No, sorry, that''s a stupid question. I guess I just didn''t want to assume you all knew each other, but like, of course you would all know each other if you live in the same place."


    "Yeah, I mean, I don''t know her that well, but I guess she''s sort of an on-and-off mentor for me."


    "Wow," Chloe says. "Well, I''m definitely super curious, but I guess we should probably figure out class stuff¡­?"


    She''s always ready to give me an out if I don''t want to talk about things. I must come off as a complete mess.


    She''s just a considerate person. She''d act that way with anyone.


    I am a mess, though. I''m having a conversation with myself inside my own head and it''s starting to sound like there are two different voices.


    I don''t want to think about that.


    "You can ask about Castalia if you want," I say. "I don''t think she''d mind. I don''t really know anything about her that would qualify as a secret."


    "Is she really as powerful as they say?" Chloe asks, because of course she does. It''s always about power. "I hear she could destroy the whole city if she wanted to."


    I remember the convergence in Denver, the size of some of those monsters. Bigger than entire houses. Some of them bigger than skyscrapers. They''re called kaiju because fighting them is like living in a Godzilla movie, a constant scramble to desperately try and find a weakness in something so much larger than you that it doesn''t even notice when it crushes your civilization into splinters. I know, objectively, that I am powerful. Access to magic makes me a one-woman military force, someone who could possibly stand up to a small country and make it out alive. But I couldn''t even scratch it.


    Castalia, though¡­


    "She could do a lot more than that," I answer. "If someone told me she could destroy the planet, I might believe them."


    Chloe''s perpetually happy mask breaks a little at that, genuine anxiety touching her face.


    "Wh¡­ really? Seriously?"


    I shrug.


    "I don''t know if she can," I clarify. "I just wouldn''t discount the possibility. I like to think we do a pretty good job of keeping monsters out of the public eye, but you''ve seen some of the things we fight on the news at least, right? All those videos when London was destroyed?"


    "¡­Yeah," Chloe says softly. "It''s just hard to imagine, I guess. Why can''t the big convergences ever happen out in the middle of the ocean or something?"


    "Because there aren''t any people there," I say.


    "So the monsters are going after people?"


    "Technically no, but functionally yes," I answer. "The monsters gravitate towards sources of magic, and humans are sources of magic. The death and destruction is just a side effect. They''re mindless beasts, so they don''t really know any better."


    "Oh," Chloe says. "So they''re not like, malicious alien invaders?"


    Man, I keep forgetting how little normal people know about this stuff.


    "They''re more like the radioactive fallout from a bunch of malicious alien invaders that blew themselves up," I say. "But that starts getting into a lot of details on what the Dark World is and why it''s here, and I think that''s actually stuff I''m not supposed to talk about. We don''t want humans trying to investigate the place because it, y''know, kills you."


    "Because of the monsters, or¡­?"


    "Because of the magical density," I answer. "Even Earth Guardians can''t stay in the Dark World for long without bad stuff happening to them. The Dark World seeps into you the longer you stay there. A normal human has no way to defend against that. You can''t just walk in wearing a hazmat suit and expect it to protect your soul."


    "My¡­ soul?" Chloe blinks.


    "Oh yeah, souls are real," I tell her. "I have no idea if ghosts are real, though. Don''t know about the afterlife either. But you definitely have a soul."


    "Does my dog have a soul?" Chloe asks.


    "Eh," I say, making a so-so gesture. "Not a very good one."


    "Hey, what the heck," she whimpers.


    "Not like that," I sigh. "I just mean your dog isn''t going to be casting any spells anytime soon."


    "What, but I could?"


    "Hypothetically, yeah," I say. "I have no idea how, exactly, but humans can absolutely use magic. I''m not sure I could really explain what it''s like. The transformation stone shorthands a lot of it for me. I can cast without it in a pinch, but I don''t understand any of the theory. It''s all feeling. Habit."


    "Oh yeah. Do you¡­ I mean, should you talk about the stone at all?" she asks quietly. "Wouldn''t it be really bad if somebody steals it?"


    "That can''t really happen," I say. "It''s not like I can misplace it, and nobody but me can use it. The worst that could happen is someone breaks it, but that would never occur by accident. You''d have to take a diamond cutter to the thing or something. Honestly, that probably wouldn''t even work. Magic is superlative. It is an extremely powerful, functionally infinite energy source that more or less grants localized control over reality. It''s far from all-powerful, but it''s¡­ y''know. A sufficiently advanced technology."


    Chloe chuckles.


    "Arthur C. Clarke?" she asks. "Yeah, okay, I get it. Though when you put it like that, it''s kind of scary to think about the fact that there''s an entire species of experts on this stuff just kind of hanging out on our planet. What do the Preservers get out of this, anyway?"


    "The satisfaction of knowing they didn''t sit around and let a species get wiped out by monsters?" I shrug. "I get the impression from Uma''tama that the Preservers want to interfere with the development of other species as little as possible. They feel like the difference in power and influence between our societies is so vast that if they directly interfered with our world and its cultures, they would effectively be committing genocide. Not in the sense that they would be killing us, but in the sense that incorporating their technology effectively necessitates a large enough shift in our society that we would have little choice but to follow their example of how to handle it. And by aping off of their culture, whatever cultures we would have developed had we discovered the technology ourselves are killed in the cradle."


    "But at the same time, they kind of have to give us magic so we don''t get killed by monsters?" Chloe asks.


    "Pretty much," I confirm. "So they limit it to the Earth Guardians, and even we don''t really know how it all works."


    I wonder if the witches know. Maybe that''s why they''re so strong.


    "Heavy stuff," Chloe concludes. "I''m not really sure I agree with it, but I suppose it''s not my technology to give out. Would be nice if they like, cured cancer for us or something, though."


    "I think some of them want to," I admit. "I mean, they''re an entire society. I only know a few Preservers on a personal level, and only one all that well. But Uma''tama definitely seems to wish they could do more for us."


    "Okay," Chloe nods. "Let''s swap to something a little lower-intensity. Why do they look like flying cats? Like, that''s weird, right? Why would the aliens just happen to evolve to look like cats?"


    "Uh, they didn''t," I say. "The forms the Preservers take on Earth are just projections. I''m pretty sure they look like cats for the same reason we all look like we''re from Sailor Moon as opposed to superheroes or paramilitary units."


    "Oh. Well, that''s boring."


    "I think it''s okay," I shrug. "It helps with our image. Looking kind of goofy makes it easier for people to feel like we''re on their side. Our jobs are hard enough without conspiracy theorists actively trying to get themselves killed by not listening to us."


    "It''s kind of funny you say that, considering how scary Fulgora looks."


    I blink. It''s just a practical outfit. It is kind of scary-looking, though. The last thing I want is for people to be scared of me. Why do I dress like that?


    Because it''s a practical outfit! Mundane armor doesn''t help that much, but it''s better than nothing, and thickening an incarnate form''s defenses will never make them look like a frilly-dressed magical girl. Plus I need somewhere to holster the gun.


    I shudder. I can''t deny that guns are effective against swarms of small monsters, but they aren''t very effective against anything else. I shot Anath with it when she wasn''t even in her incarnate form and it didn''t do anything. And I have a magical staff that shoots lightning! Why would I even need a gun?


    Why am I freaking out about this? I literally have the gun concealed in my jacket right now because I put the holster on this morning knowing that I like having a sidearm as Fulgora and I especially like having access to a weapon in my civilian identity. I don''t want to have to choose between revealing my powers and being helpless if I end up in danger.


    I don''t even have a license for it. I stole it off of a corpse in the liminal space. I bring it to school! I mean, it''s not like I can''t make it disappear for a bit if I need to, but¡­ yeah I definitely don''t want anyone to find out about that.


    "Uh, Eliza?" Chloe asks, making me jump a little.


    "Huh? Oh. Sorry. Got lost in thought."


    "I''m sorry I said Fulgora looks scary?" Chloe ventures.


    "No, no, it''s not that. You''re right," I assure her.


    She gives me a careful look.


    "I''ve seen you come back from stuff pretty roughed up," Chloe tells me. "Even if you don''t seem wounded I can tell you''re in pain. You''re acting really out of it right now. Not hurt like usual, but¡­ did everything go okay?"


    "Um, yeah, everything went great today," I nod. "No major injuries, no problematic monsters¡­ it''s good. Everything went good. Got rid of the convergence and everything."


    "Okay," Chloe nods. "But I think there''s a reason you''re so on edge."


    I shrug.


    "I think I tend to be a little nervous when things go well," I admit. "Just a consequence of my magic, probably."


    She frowns, but doesn''t respond. Our food arrives before I can break the silence, so we just start eating it and let the topic drop. The appetizer Chloe ordered is really good, which I''m particularly grateful for because my meal isn''t really to my tastes. I eat it all anyway. I have some pretty huge calorie needs.


    "Hey, Eliza," Chloe says, her cheeks puffed up by all the food she shoved in there like a chipmunk while she talks, "you wanna watch a movie tonight?"


    I blink. Like a theater? Dark room, loud noises, crowd of bodies, and having to disrupt everyone else if I need to suddenly leave? No thanks.


    I can easily imagine myself freaking out and hurting someone if somebody moves in the corner of my vision, too.


    "Uh. I don''t think I''m a going-out-to-the-movies sort of person," I admit.


    "What about a staying-in-for-a-movie person?" she asks. "My dad and I usually watch something together every Thursday night, which is¡­ y''know, tonight. We don''t really have a fancy surround sound system or anything like that, and our TV isn''t the best, and we mostly just watch old comedies, but we''d love to have you!"


    That sounds ideal, actually?


    Oh my god, yeah, I hate surround sound.


    I''m not a character in the film, I shouldn''t feel like it''s physically happening around me.


    And I could really go for a comedy. That sounds great.


    I''m probably not going to get to stay the whole time.


    "Are¡­ you sure I wouldn''t be imposing?" I hedge. "I might have to interrupt the movie to¡­ y''know."


    "It''s fine, we understand!" Chloe beams. "My dad won''t mind. Uh¡­ he''ll probably guess you''re Fulgora, so I hope that doesn''t make you too uncomfortable? I''ve talked a bit about you at home."


    No damnit no! Uuuugh.


    It was inevitable.


    I guess. I''m sure she needs to vent about me to someone.


    "It''s fine," I brush off. "That sounds great, honestly. If I can make it, I''d love to."


    "Awesome!" Chloe beams. "I''ll send you my address! I''ll see you at six? Oh! I''ll make dinner, too."


    Too much. That''s too much. Lunch and dinner?


    "You don''t have to do that," I insist. "I can eat before¡ª"


    "I want to do it," Chloe insists. "I''ll see you then, okay?"


    "Uh. Okay."


    We chat a little more while we wait for the check and then part ways, leaving me feeling vaguely floaty as I wander towards the closest entrance to Guardian headquarters. My sense of reality feels off in a way that''s kind of nice but mostly stressful as all hell. I''m not sure what to do about it. I wander through the blank white halls of headquarters in a daze. I feel like I''ve been spacing out like this more recently.


    "Fulgora!" Uma''tama greets me happily. "How was your lunch date?"


    "Minerva," I correct automatically. Why did I do that? "Er, wait. Sorry, no, Fulgora''s¡­ fine? And it wasn''t a date."


    "It''s alright if you prefer Minerva now!" Uma''tama assures me. And I think I do? I don''t. "You have been spending a lot of time with your team lately."


    "I¡­ just forget I said anything," I sigh. "Either is fine when I''m not transformed, I guess."


    "Okay, we will remember that!" Uma''tama says. "Are you ready for the debrief?"


    "Yeah. I mean, that''s why I''m here," I tell them.


    "Understood! But really, it''s not an urgent matter since things went so well. If you''d like to take a longer break, you''re more than welcome. You''ve seemed¡­ tired lately? If we''re reading you right. We are not as good with human body language as we would like to be."


    "I''m not¡­ I''m fine," I insist. "But I did agree to hang out with Chloe later today as well. We''re going to watch a movie at her house."


    "And this is not a date," Uma''tama says, seeming confused.


    "It''s not," I confirm. "We''re just friends. I think maybe I don''t¡­ do¡­ dates?"


    "Oh, okay!" Uma''tama says brightly. "We will remember that. We hope you enjoy your movie and friendly not-a-date. Let us conclude our business so you may prepare! We will endeavor not to bother you during your movie if it can be avoided."


    Damnit Uma, no!


    That means they''ll send the kids without me!


    "Don''t do that!" I blurt immediately. "Uma, no. I''m fine. I''m good. I can fight. You don''t need to send them out alone."


    "You don''t need to go with them for every little thing," they argue. "You''ve done such a good job training them, Minerva! Anything less dangerous than a swarm and they''ll be fine."


    "But there''s always a risk of a swarm!" I insist. "Any convergence could have one! And they don''t know when to retreat, yet! They''ll try to take it by themselves, Uma!"


    "We will keep a careful watch on them," Uma''tama promises. "And we will make it clear that Aurora is the leader in your absence. And if something that requires your attention occurs, we will contact you. But I want you to have more time to relax!"


    "I don''t need it!"


    "But I want it," Uma''tama insists. "Go! Have a fun night. Try not to worry. There have been an abnormally large number of convergences in this city for long enough that we have been approved to receive a transfer to help as well! She is close to your age. We hope the two of you get along!"


    "Wh¡­ Uma!" I gape. Another magical girl? Do they think I can''t handle it? Why? What did I do wrong? Why can''t I do anything right?


    "...You seem upset," the cat frowns. "We thought you would be happy to have the help. You have barely gotten any time to yourself all summer."


    I don''t know what to do with time to myself! Any time that isn''t spent doing magical girl stuff stresses me out! If we''re not fighting monsters we should be training to fight monsters!


    No amount of training is enough, after all. But anything that can delay my fuckup just another day¡­!


    "...We thought you would want to hang out with your friend more," Uma''tama says, sagging slightly. "Did we misunderstand something¡­?"


    "I¡­ no," I say. It''s not that I don''t want to, it''s¡­ "I just wish I didn''t need help."


    That came out a lot more honestly than I intended. Ugh, it sounds so bad when I say it out loud, but it''s true.


    "...Minerva," Uma''tama sighs. "We¡­ aren''t sure we understand, but we can tell you are having a difficult time. From what we know of humans, rest is the most reliable way to heal. If we trampled on your wishes somehow, we apologize. It makes me so happy to hear you have a friend to spend the evening with, though, and I want you to have a good time. We did not mean to¡­"


    They trail off, trying to find the words and seeming to fail.


    "Well! You know yourself and your needs better than we ever could," Uma''tama says, not entirely sounding like they believe it. "We are not human, after all. We will not listen to the temptations of arrogance. If you believe you do not need rest, we will not force you."


    A pause.


    "...But you are still seeing your friend tonight?" they hedge.


    "I¡­ yes," I say.


    "Alright," they smile. "So, about the debriefing¡­"


    We finish our business, talking about the fight and the types of monsters present, going over tactics and optimizations while Uma''tama theorizes about what may have been on the other side. Afterwards I train alone, practicing spellcraft and trying to focus on the why and how of what I''m doing, my admission of ignorance to Chloe fiercely bothering me. Why is casting magic so much easier in an incarnate form? As a human it feels like shoving glue through a straw, nothing like the effortless, instinctive casting of my superior bodies. I almost never train outside of an incarnate form barring general fitness, and now it''s easy to see why.


    Still, I pound through exercises until it''s time for me to head to Chloe''s, an ache in my soul that leaves my usual bundle of fear and anger feeling sluggish and distant. That seems dangerous. I probably shouldn''t train like this if this is the result. But¡­ I guess I''m supposed to rest today. I''m sure Chloe won''t mind if I''m a little off my game.


    Her smiling face greets me when I ring the door to her house. It''s a small, one-story home, the paint peeling off the wood. When was the last time I went to a friend''s house? I can''t remember.


    It was with them. My old team. I went over to Flora''s house on Saturdays.


    Right. Yeah. She had such a big living room. I loved her chairs. Carmenta would make us get our homework done together all at once so we didn''t procrastinate and get called out to battle while trying to finish it just before the deadline.


    Flora and I would have done that every time if not for her. We were the worst at homework. I guess I still am.


    It''s been¡­ what, four years now? Five?


    "Hey, Eliza!" Chloe greets me.


    I don''t deserve her. I certainly didn''t deserve them.


    I should have stayed.


    I guess it was only a matter of time until I became a green mage again. I''m such a fucking coward.


    "Eliza?"


    Shit, say something!


    "Hey, Chloe," I manage. "Thanks for inviting me."


    "Uh. Eliza," she says, "are you crying?"


    Huh?


    "...Am I?" I ask, only just now feeling the tears running down my face. God, I''m such a loser. Where''s my emotional control?


    "...Come inside," Chloe says, an infuriating amount of pity on her face. I can do nothing but let her lead me in. "I hope you like hot chocolate!"


    "Uh, yeah," I say. "I do."


    As she ushers me inside, I can''t help but notice how very, very warm her hands are. I do my best to focus on that, because I don''t want to let my thoughts wander any more tonight.


    Because I''m a coward.

 17. Well-Trained

    The inside of Chloe''s house is dark and cozy, the lights turned low to prepare for the movie. You''d think I wouldn''t be a fan of the dark, given the whole¡­ y''know, Dark World, but paradoxically I always find myself more comfortable away from the light and sun. The dark is where I''m powerful, where I''m in control. The dark might be where all the bad things come from, but it''s also just¡­ who I am. A light in the dark. When it''s already bright, what good am I?


    "You''re okay with dogs, right?" Chloe asks.


    An image of one of the wolf-like monsters I fought today flashes through my mind, its jaws open as it leaps towards Aurora''s throat. Purple crystals emerge from all over its flesh, hatred burning in its eyes. I shoot it in the head, and with an explosion of gore it dies, rapidly turning to dust.


    Focus. She''s talking to me.


    "Uh, yeah," I say. "I''m fine with dogs."


    "Great!" Chloe beams. "Come on, come meet my dad!"


    "Uh, okay."


    I''m ushered into a small entertainment center with a decent TV, a well-worn armchair, and a slowly collapsing couch. The armchair is already occupied: a middle-aged man lounges in it like it was made for him, happily holding a steaming mug in one hand and petting a dog with the other. The dog has a small bed of his own right next to the armchair, and he seems quite happy with the current setup overall. The dog''s fur is a mix of three or four different colors, and its fluffy, curled tail wags happily as it sits by its master.


    Chloe''s dad gives me a warm smile as I approach, which immediately helps me see the family resemblance. He has big, calloused hands, a face full of stubble with a few flecks of gray, and his left leg appears to have been amputated just below the knee, replaced with a metal prosthetic.


    Lucky. Just a little higher and walking would be a way bigger problem.


    God, it says a lot about me that my first thought when seeing someone with a severe injury is ''lucky, could have been worse.'' It''s kind of messed up.


    ¡­Hey. I didn''t mean it like that. And I wouldn''t tell him that out loud!


    "You must be Eliza!" Chloe''s dad says, standing up and holding out a hand to shake. "I''m Rob, or you can call me Mr. McNeal, I suppose."


    "Uh, good to meet you," I manage, shaking his hand. His dog stands up and starts sniffing me.


    "And this is Bosco," Mr. McNeal says. "He''s my therapy dog."


    "Oh! Should I not pet him, then?" I ask, aborting an attempt to do just that.


    "Oh it''s fine, it''s fine," Mr. McNeal insists. "He''s a good boy, you can''t distract him too much. We''re at home anyway."


    "Eliza!" Chloe calls out from the kitchen, causing me to flinch a little. "Do you want any marshmallows in your hot chocolate?"


    How should I know? I never drink hot chocolate.


    "Uh, anything''s fine!" I call back.


    "So, Eliza," Mr. McNeal says. "Chloe''s told me a lot about you!"


    "Only good things, I hope," I say.


    "Maybe. I''ll never tell," he winks at me. "But hey! Sit down, make yourself comfortable. How do you feel about The Emperor''s New Groove?"


    "Never seen it," I answer.


    "Ooh! You''re in for a treat, then!"


    "Chocolate time!" Chloe announces, returning with two more mugs. "This is it! The treat that you''re in for!"


    "Not the movie?" I ask, accepting the steaming mug and bringing it up for a sip.


    "Well that''s good t¡ªoh, careful, it''s¡­ hot?"


    I swallow the steaming liquid, then take another gulp and swish it around on my tongue. It''s really sweet! I like it. I guess she put those marshmallows in.


    "It''s really good, thank you," I nod. Her dad whistles.


    "Iron mouth you got there," he says.


    "Yeah," I agree. I''m not really sure why, but after so many years of being an Earth Guardian a little of the magic just rubbed off on me. Even untransformed I''m a bit stronger, faster, and tougher than a human should be.


    I wonder if it''s a smaller-scale version of whatever fucked up Anath''s body.


    I''m not sure it matters much either way. Uma''tama has been pretty darn clear about how dangerous Dark World corruption is. Whatever is happening to me isn''t much of anything like what happened to the Dark Witches; I''m tough, but I''m pretty sure I''d still be killed by a bullet if I get hit without any shielding.


    I''m not saying it''s the same, I''m saying it might be similar in principle. If it''s possible to permanently enhance my body WITHOUT being corrupted by the Dark World, it''s worth looking into.


    "Eliza?"


    "Huh?" I blink.


    "I asked if you wanna sit down," Chloe says gently.


    "Oh," I say, looking at the couch. "Yeah, thank you."


    I sink into the abused cushions, trying to relax my muscles and failing. God, thinking of Anath makes me worry she''s going to go after my brother again. I can''t believe she goes after my brother. My brother! She''s going to seriously hurt him one of these days. No, don''t think about it. When she shows up again I''ll beat her into the ground. And if she hurts my brother I''ll fucking kill her with my own two hands!


    The last time I fought her flashes through my mind, reminding me of every mistake, every last thing I should have done better. It''s not just beratement. I''ve practiced. I''ve prepared. If she shows her goddamn face again, I''ll be ready. Again and again in my mind, I watch her move, watch her beat me, watch her nearly kill me. Again and again and again and again¡­!


    Something cold and wet touches my hand and I gasp, jumping a little in shock. Oh, it''s just the dog. Bosco. He walked over and put his head on my lap. That''s¡­ that''s sweet of him.


    "...Eliza? Are you okay?" Mr. McNeal says, looking at me with a deep concern on his face that I don''t quite understand.


    "I¡­ I''m fine," I insist. "Bosco just startled me a little, is all."


    He keeps staring at me. Even Chloe is surprised.


    "...What? What is it?" I ask.


    "I''ve never seen Bosco do that with anyone else before," Mr. McNeal says.


    "Uh. Well, my family has always been popular with animals?" I say.


    "...Eliza, he''s a trained therapy dog," Chloe reminds me. "That''s what he does when my dad has a war flashback. To¡­ y''know, help bring him back to the present."


    I¡­ but that''s not¡­


    "...Oh," I say. "Uh. Sorry. I''m fine, though. I''ve been spacing out a little today, I guess."


    "It''s been a lot more than little," Chloe says. "Did something happen today? Do you wanna talk about it?"


    "I¡­ nothing today, no," I answer. "It was just a normal fight. Nobody got hurt. Convergence sealed. It was, uh. A good day. Pretty¡­ pretty standard."


    Understanding dawns on Mr. McNeal''s face, though it immediately shifts back into worry.


    "Oh. Oh, kid¡­" he says softly.


    Oh, you just HAD to mention the convergence. Now he knows, and he fucking pities me for it. I don''t need his pity. I don''t want his pity! This is why I don''t tell people this shit!


    I thought Chloe already told him! Ugh, I feel awful for having this come up at a family movie night that I''m intruding on. I''m being such a horrible guest. None of them should have to deal with my problems.


    "It''s fine," I insist. "Really. I''m just excited to see this movie you want to show me!"


    Bosco nuzzles his head further onto my lap as I wipe something out of my eyes. They''re wet for some reason.


    "Let''s just¡­ watch that," I insist. "Okay? I just¡­ want to enjoy spending time with you. Please."


    Chloe and her father share a look before turning back to me.


    "...Alright, kid," Mr. McNeal acquiesces. "It''s a pretty good movie, I think you''ll like it. And if Bosco wants to sit with you and Chloe, just¡­ do me a favor and let him, yeah? He''s a really good dog."


    I nod, not trusting my voice. I make sure to use the hand not holding my hot chocolate to scratch behind Bosco''s ears.


    Oh yeah, the hot chocolate.


    Huh. Right. I am holding that. I take a sip.


    It''s really good.


    Yeah. It is.


    The movie begins. It is apparently about some jerk of an emperor who gets turned into a llama and presumably will have to learn about love and friendship on his journey back to becoming human. I hope the evil witch lady dies. Yeah, that hits too close to home, huh? Evil woman turning people into animals. I can feel Bosco nuzzling me a little harder every time she''s on screen. It''s a little embarrassing.


    Outside of her, though, I do really like the movie. It''s just¡­ really silly. I''m not exactly a silly person, but I guess it is nice to have a break from time to time. A comedy really was the perfect choice. I forgot how much I like to laugh.


    "That was¡­ that was pretty great," I say as the credits start to roll.


    "Right?" Chloe grins. "It''s one of my favorite movies."


    A rumbling sound suddenly erupts from my stomach, audible over the music coming from the television. I blush.


    "You hungry?" Mr. McNeal asks.


    "A little," I admit.


    "Well, the tikka masala should juuust be about done simmering," Chloe says, standing up with a big smile. Man, she is always smiling. I wonder what she''s so happy about. "I like to cook it slow. Makes everything nice and soft."


    She walks off towards what I assume is the kitchen and I just stay where I am, not entirely sure if there''s something I should be doing other than scratching Bosco behind the ears. Chloe''s dad stands up, motioning me towards another room. The moment he does, Bosco gets up and trots to his side.


    "Let''s wait in the dining room," he says. "Chloe likes to bring everything out like it''s a big production."


    "It is a big production!" Chloe shouts from the other room. "Food is art!"


    Her dad chuckles, shaking his head with a fond smile on his face as he leads me towards the dining room. It''s a pretty tiny room, all things considered, barely big enough for the four-person table and chairs that it houses. The only other piece of furniture is a small shelf holding a few objects: an urn and a picture of a woman.


    "That''s her mother," Mr. McNeal says bluntly.


    "Oh," I answer softly. The only thought running through my head right now is ''did I fail her?''


    "Eliza?"


    I blink.


    "Huh?" I ask.


    "I said cancer took her," Mr. McNeal repeats. "Back when Chloe was very young. There was nothing anyone could have done."


    I swallow, not liking the way it seems as though he''s looking through me.


    "I''m sorry for your loss," I manage.


    "We all are," he says. "It''s still hard, after all these years. Problems feel a lot easier to manage when there''s someone to blame. Even if it''s ourselves. But hey! At least I don''t have to worry about it with this bad boy."


    He motions at his prosthetic.


    "There''s definitely someone else to blame for this one!" he says. "Probably a lot of people."


    Well, now I have to ask.


    "How did you lose it?"


    "Transport vehicle I was riding in got blown up in Iraq," he explains, and I tense up. "One minute I was having a boring old truck ride, next minute I''m in a hospital getting honorably discharged. It threw me for a loop, but in some ways I''m glad it forced me to come home."


    "Do you know what blew you up?" I blurt before I can stop myself.


    "Not your rogue Earth Guardian, if that''s what you''re asking," he says, cutting to the heart of it immediately. "I did see her while I was on tour, though. It was a pretty harrowing sight."


    I clench my fists, unable to meet his gaze. Earth Guardians are not allowed to fight in wars; our powers are for combatting magical threats, not interfering with local politics. The Preservers are very firm on that point.


    "I''m sorry you had to go through that," I tell him. "No one should have to feel threatened by us. We exist to protect you."


    "The threat isn''t what made it harrowing, kid," he says. "Watching a ten-year-old fight to the death, screaming with rage the entire time, is what was harrowing. She wasn''t even going after our boys when I saw her. She killed people on every side."


    "Da-da-da-dah!" Chloe suddenly cries out, walking into the dining room with a big pot in her hands. "Food''s ready! Rice yourselves up. Oh, Eliza, is there anything you want to drink? We have milk, juice, soda, whatever."


    "Uh, juice is fine," I answer, a little whiplashed.


    "Coming right up!"


    She sets the pot down and I watch as her father scoops the rice in it onto his plate. I copy him once he''s done, and then Chloe returns with another pot that presumably contains whatever we''re putting on the rice. When she leaves and returns a third time, she''s carrying drinks for everyone, which she places on the table for us before sitting down and starting to serve herself. The food is really good. It''s meat in some kind of orange sauce that tastes like tomatoes and cinnamon. I think she already told me the name, but I forgot.


    I make sure to compliment her food out loud, as well as ask for seconds, and she seems very pleased when I do. She and her dad chat a lot during dinner, but I mostly focus on eating. Something about how good it tastes is making me very aware of how hungry I am.


    I probably don''t eat enough, huh?


    Being hungry makes anger and fear come easier.


    That''s true, but I should look into whether or not it''s affecting my strength. Hunger might be a crutch, and if so I don''t need it. Better to work the leg.


    Bosco bonks my leg with his nose again. I swallow the food in my mouth and give him another scratch.


    "Hey, boy," I greet him.


    "You ever think about getting a dog, Eliza?" Mr. McNeal asks.


    "I''d like that, but I don''t think I would have enough time to take care of one," I say. "Plus, I figure I can always visit my brother if I want to spend time with animals. He loves them to pieces."


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Well, you''re always welcome to drop by here as well," Mr. McNeal says.


    "Yeah, if you like my dinner so much then you absolutely need to try some more of my recipes!" Chloe insists. "My dad has no taste. He''ll say anything''s good!"


    "Honestly, I probably will too," I admit. "But if the meals are anything like tonight, it''ll be because it is good."


    "Aww," Chloe coos. "Well that''s really sweet. I''d love to¡ª"


    My phone starts to ring, interrupting Chloe with a familiar song. My whole body goes tense. Really? Again? Twice in one day?


    "Hello?" I say, answering the call. Shoot, I probably should have apologized first. It''s rude to talk on the phone at dinner.


    "Eliza," Uma''tama''s voice says from the other end. "Anath is back."


    Well, I promised. I am going to fucking kill her.


    "Damn it. I have to go," I hiss, covering the receiver. "Thank you so much for dinner, it was really nice, I had a great time."


    "Duty calls?" Mr. McNeal asks.


    "Literally, I suppose," I say, motioning with my phone. "Bad luck, I guess."


    "Well, be sure to come back again!" Chloe insists.


    "I will," I promise, returning the phone to my ear. "Where is she?"


    "She''s headed exactly where you think she''s headed," Uma''tama answers. "Please don''t be reckless, Eliza. The backup I mentioned earlier is less than fifteen minutes out. I''ll send her your way as soon as I can."


    "I don''t need backup," I scowl.


    "Please accept it anyway," Uma''tama pleads. "I assure you, she won''t slow you down."


    "¡­Fine," I answer, and hang up the phone.


    "A-are you going to transform?" Chloe asks.


    I blink. I mean, I wouldn''t normally do it with witnesses. The flying cat''s kind of out of the bag, though. Yeah, I still have no idea what the fuck I was thinking when I did that, but I guess transforming now will get me there faster.


    "You wanna watch?" I ask.


    "¡­Yes please."


    I nod. It''s a bit embarrassing, but I suppose she said please.


    "I W??? N?? F???."


    The change flows over me as it has a thousand times, my human form flooded with power as it gets replaced with a version of itself meant for battle. My armor coalesces around me and my gun drops into my hand. I place it into its new holster as the light burning around me fades.


    "F?????s A?????? S??????? F??????."


    "¡­Woah," Chloe says.


    "Stay safe," I remind her, my voice more familiar in my ears. "I''ve got a squirrel to catch."


    "Good luck?"


    "Never had any," I answer, and I head for the door. The moment I step outside, I take to the air, rocketing off towards the pet store Jim works at. He''s not actually on shift today, but Anath doesn''t know that. It''s where she will be.


    Flying is a little more difficult as Fulgora than as Minerva. I''m not entirely sure why; maybe it''s just that Minerva is so much smaller and lighter than this form, but there''s just a different quality to the flight for some reason. Maybe it''s class-based? Magical girl names are simultaneously very important and entirely arbitrary: Minerva is a ''princess'' because she has a leadership role and fights from the back. I''m an ''avenger'' because I fight alone and from the front¡­ among other reasons. Am I worse at flying like this because my incarnate form isn''t optimized for it the way it is when I''m Minerva? Why would that be the case? An incarnate form is supposed to be an ideal manifestation of who we are. Why would I have two ideals?


    I hope it doesn''t have anything to do with how we keep talking to ourselves.


    I mean how I keep talking to myself.


    ¡­Right, yeah.


    No time to think about this. There''s Anath. She spots me around the same time I spot her, a sickeningly happy grin blooming on her face the moment she does.


    "Fulgora!" she calls out to me. "It''s been so long!"


    I respond by manifesting my weapon and dropping on her head.


    "Woah!" she says, jumping back to make space. I don''t let her, immediately moving to close the distance and continue my assault. "Geez! Were you this fast before?"


    "S??? F??s?!" I shout, letting the magic flow into my limbs and move me even faster. Anath does her best to dodge and weave around my staff, but I still land a crushing blow to her ribs and immediately take the opportunity to follow up.


    "L???????? A??!"


    The first hit leads into the second, an explosion of thunder knocking Anath down the street as the fleeing civilians I just realized still haven''t evacuated escape around us. Shit. I have to be careful how I hit her. We''re not in the liminal space.


    I was having such a good day for once. It was awkward, it was uncomfortable, and people kept interrogating me and pitying me about being an Earth Guardian. But it was still a good day, god damn it. I was with my friend! My only fucking friend! And I will not let this happen again!


    Anath spits out a glob of blood, a wild grin showing ever more of her teeth as she stares at me, enraptured.


    "You sure didn''t waste these last couple months, did you?" she asks. "I haven''t even seen Jim today, but I''ve never seen you this pissed."


    I''m normally a lot more afraid. Afraid you''ll hurt him. Afraid I won''t be enough to stop you. Even though my transformation stone is just as good for it as anger, casting with fear just doesn''t seem to work as well when I''m Fulgora. But there''s nothing to fear today. Jim is at home. The convergence has already been taken care of. And this stupid bitch doesn''t even know Chloe exists. She doesn''t know that she''s made me run out on her.


    She doesn''t know that I was having a good day, and there''s no better kindling for rage than burning what used to be happiness.


    "A?????????: H?????''s H?????."


    "Woah, fuck, already!?" she yelps. "P?ss??? S???!"


    She leaps out of the way of my staff, but my weapon hits the road and the shockwave still catches her, flooding her defenses with magical energy and sending her tumbling down the street. Using an Abreaction this early is a bit of a risky move, but I have power to spare and can afford to waste a little taking her down as quickly as possible.


    "Fine! We''ll go hard!" Anath declares. "P????? W?????? P???? U?!"


    I''m ready for it this time. I''ve been anticipating it. Anath''s body twists to become all the more beastlike, from the long ears on top of her head to the nine tails growing out of her spine instead of just the one, the already feral girl clads herself in the fullness of her power.


    "R???s???? B??s? C??s?????? A????!"


    There''s always less time than you might expect during a transformation, but I make sure not to waste it. By the time she''s done declaring her name, I''m already swinging at her again. My staff hits her and follows up the blow with a thunderclap, an immediate one-two punch that pulps most monsters in a single blow.


    Anath''s incarnate form blocks it on the crystal blades growing out from her forearms, and it barely causes her to take a step back.


    "M????? B???!" she snarls, golden magical energy coalescing around her fist. I can feel the movement of the energy. This is a very, very powerful attack, but she''s dropping her own defenses to power it.


    No need to risk it. Just play it safe.


    Like hell I will. I step forward, pressing my attack even as Anath''s fist flies towards me.


    "L???????? A??!" I shout, and the world goes white, pain erupting in my shoulder as I fail to completely dodge her punch. I''m sent sailing through the air, tumbling and skidding across the ground before I regain control of myself with my good arm and leap back to my feet, ignoring the pain.


    It was worth it. I hit her.


    Anath is in just as bad a shape as I am. My attack connected with her head, and as she tries to stand up, blood oozing from her forehead and blinding her in one eye, she stumbles. My left shoulder feels broken, but Anath can barely see straight. I charge at her again.


    "P?ss???¡ª"


    What? She secures her footing, and though her one working eye is entirely unfocused, she crouches down to launch herself at me all the same.


    "¡ªS???!"


    She charged at me like this the last time we fought. I countered her with Storm Barrier, because I wasn''t entirely familiar with her spells and I panicked. But I''ve replayed the fight in my mind a hundred times by now, thinking back to everything I did and the ways I could have done it better. There''s no need to block this spell. Anath is too straightforward. She''s charging directly at me, like she always does. I can make her pay for that.


    I leap left, swinging my staff towards the spot where I was just standing.


    "A?????????: H?????''s H?????!"


    This is it. This will end the fight. The momentum of her own spell crashing directly into one of my strongest? She doesn''t stand a¡ªwait.


    She''s flying right at me. Why? How? There''s no way she would ever¡­


    She was dizzy. I think she just jumped the wrong way and I dodged into her.


    No. No. No! I will not allow something as absolutely fucking stupid as this to stop me!


    "L???????? A??!"


    I''ve barely even started the swing of my Abreaction, so through sheer force of will I force the two spells to combine rather than explode in my face. The full-power force of Heaven''s Hammer accepts the speed of Lightning Arc, and the sudden acceleration in my swing allows me to put the force of the attack in front of me rather than to the side, barely connecting with Anath an instant before she collides with me. I feel the satisfying crunch of bone against my staff, and the explosive force knocks her to the side, through a storefront, through the shelves, and into the back wall, shattering brick.


    Whoops. I hope they have insurance.


    I feel¡­ drained. Not completely spent, but that definitely took a lot out of me. The boiling anger that carried me this far is a fading sputter of what it used to be, a memory that no longer seems to muster the same level of rage. It''s¡­ pleasant, in some ways. But I still need to finish capturing Anath, assuming she survived, so I take a moment to remind myself how pissed at her I am before heading into the mess of the store I just knocked her through.


    I can hear her pained, heavy breaths. So she''s still alive, at least. I no longer quite feel that burning need to literally murder her, so that''s somewhat of a relief. When I finally see her, she''s still in the indent in the wall she made with her body, broken and bleeding. Yet as I approach, she lifts her head and smiles.


    "Fuck," she swears, coughing a little. "Did I catch you at a bad time or something?"


    "Yes, actually," I answer, trying to decide on the best way to capture her and turn her in to Uma. Restraining spells aren''t really my forte, so I guess I should just knock her out? Concussions won''t inflict permanent harm on an incarnate form. Probably.


    "That''s not all, though," Anath says. "You''ve been training real hard, huh? I guess I finally lit a fire under your ass. Kehehe."


    "Trying to take credit for my victory, huh?" I ask. "I suppose it figures that you''re a sore loser."


    She chuckles a little, coughing out a dark liquid. I tense up, preparing for an attack. A yellow mage laughing means they''re still in the fight, no matter how injured they seem.


    "I''m happy for you," she insists. Shit. I swing my weapon at her head, but one of her bleeding arms whips up and catches it mid-attack. "G??s? ?? ??? C???. Come on, Fulgy. Chat with me a while. I haven''t stalled for long enough yet."


    I strain against the intense pressure trying to crush me into the ground, gritting my teeth at her.


    "Stall?" I ask. "What are you planning? What''s going on?"


    "Honestly?" Anath asks. "I''m not totally sure. I was just offered a chance to distract you and I couldn''t even think of saying no. It was pretty fucking cool how you got me! You''ve definitely surpassed me in skill."


    "I know," I snarl, twisting my weapon out of her grasp and smashing it into her face in one clean motion. Anath''s spell weakens my strike a bit, but it''s still a clean hit to the skull. More blood starts pouring from her face, and for a moment I think it''s over. But then, of course, that damn grin gets wider.


    "Shame I still have you beat in power," she taunts. She taunts. Me. A fucking red mage. And I can tell she knows exactly what she''s doing. Fine, then! Third time''s the fucking charm, bitch!


    "A?????????!" I roar, putting my full strength into my most powerful attack. "H?????''s H?????!"


    Anath watches my strike approach, and her lips move at an impossible speed, time seeming to slow as she speaks a spell that makes my heart scream with fear.


    "C?????s?s: L??????? ?? ??? B????."


    Crap, crap, crap, run, abort, abort!


    My swing connects with the spot Anath just was, hitting nothing but brick and blowing the wall to bits. Anath''s maddened giggles ring out from around me, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere as faint flashes of movement dance in the corners of my vision. I can''t believe that crazy bitch can use a fucking Catharsis! She''ll be completely drained when it''s over, but who knows how long that''ll take!


    She''s right, I can''t beat this in power. I have to run.


    Bolting out of the crumbling store, I take to the air, looking around desperately for my opponent. How am I supposed to know where to run if I don''t¡ª


    "Leaving already?" Anath asks, her claws suddenly wrapped around my ankle. "Don''t be rude! I put on my Sunday best for you!"


    She yanks me out of the sky, the maddened laughter resuming as I crash into the asphalt. I roll to the left on instinct, Anath''s claws scraping through the side of my armor as they impale the ground beside me. I turn to look at her and she vanishes into a blur, that Cheshire smile seeming to linger for a split second as the air cracks like thunder at her passing. I leap to my feet, barely avoiding another blow that hits the ground hard enough to send chunks of the road flying into my face, blinding me long enough for Anath to land another hit.


    I do my best to use flight to arrest my momentum, but I still smash clean through a light post and bounce off of a brick wall before I get a hold of myself. The moment I do, I see her smile and her fist.


    "S???? B??????!" I shout in a panic, manifesting a cloudy shield that barely absorbs Anath''s strike, the magic nearly collapsing under the weight of the blow.


    "T?????? B??s?!" I follow up, detonating my struggling shield in Anath''s face with a wave of lightning. It hits her head-on, eliciting a scream as I fly backwards to make more distance.


    "Ow!" Anath yelps. "Geez! That''s a new trick!"


    No, it''s just one of Minerva''s spells. Why am I using them in this form again?


    It doesn''t feel right. I should be smaller than this.


    No time to think about it. Focus. Her Catharsis is clearly an empowerment type.


    Which is terrible news, because that means it''ll probably last a while. Still, we have to run out the clock. There''s no taking this head-on.


    She''s faster than us! Stronger than us! We can''t run away, it would just leave us exposed!


    I know, I know! But what do I do, then?


    She''s a moron! Trick her!


    "F????????¡ª!" I begin, aiming my staff directly at Anath. She blurs and disappears again, that insane speed placing her well outside my line of fire.


    "¡ªP??s?!" I finish, twisting my shot to aim at the ground beneath my feet. A glowing, pulsing storm of unnaturally geometric lightning blooms on the ground as I start to leap away again, Anath only moments from another strike.


    "Huh?" she says, and then my spell explodes in her face as she passes over it.


    I''m caught in the blast as well, but my body is naturally resistant to lightning and I can ride the blastwave to make more space for myself anyway. Anath shouts in pain as the magical electricity courses through her, causing her to convulse as she tries to stand.


    She''s stunned! Don''t let up!


    "F???????? T???¡ª!"


    Anath''s eyes snap towards my face, and I realize that the entire time, her laughter has never stopped.


    Pain erupts in my stomach as Anath closes the distance in a blink, a crystal spike growing out of her knee suddenly deep inside my torso. My mind tries to process what just happened, but Anath''s magic floods into my body from the crystal and I''m launched off of her knee like a cannonball, blood pouring from my gaping wound as I spin through the air, roll over a car''s hood, and eventually skid to a stop on the sidewalk.


    It hurts. It hurts so much. I can''t win like this. I can''t. I have to run, I have to run, I have to run, I¡ª!


    NO! I won''t run again! I have to fight! There''s no choice but to fight!


    I¡­ I can''t¡­


    Then I''ll fucking do it myself!


    Leaning on my staff, I struggle to my feet. Soon. I''ll have to strike soon. I can''t see her, she''s too fast, but that''s basically just her Passion Step anyway, isn''t it? I just have to swing. There''s no need to see her, no need to hear her, I just have to swing! She''s going¡­ to charge me¡­ now!


    "L???????? A??!"


    I swing. My timing is perfect. I can see her as I speak the words, barely fast enough to catch a glimpse of her in motion with the aid of my spell. She''s charging right at me, just like I thought she would. I watch her eyes widen as my staff comes for her. The moment of impact, the moment I finally fucking beat her, is in my grasp. While my blood spills out of my guts, while my consciousness wavers by a thread, while I can barely muster up the anger for one more spell, I finally get to win.


    Anath stops on a dime, and my attack hits only air. The rumble of thunder that follows punctuates the silence as we stare at each other.


    "Heh," she says. "Almost got me again. I really like you, Fulgora."


    My only response is an incoherent scream of rage, swinging again for her head. She leans back to avoid it, and an instant later she''s inside my guard, aiming a punch at my wound. Agony sears itself into my body, blooming out from the point of impact and overwhelming my thoughts. My anger sputters, and then a follow-up blow to the temple sends me sprawling at her feet.


    "You''ve got pretty good pain resistance!" she compliments me. "I was so right about you. You should come home with me. What do you think?"


    Her foot raises to stomp on my head.


    "Go fuck yourself," I spit.


    "Aww. That''s too bad."


    I close my eyes as her foot falls, submitting to fear like I always have and always will, no matter how hard I try. Will she drag me to the Dark World while I''m unconscious? Will I wake up a maddened monster like her? The terror keeps me still.


    But instead of crushed bones and blackness, I feel the world slow down.


    "S??????? H??s???!"


    What!? Who is¡­? I open my eyes, spotting a small girl with short black hair standing at the far end of the street, a smirk on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. I barely get a good look at her before she explodes into brilliant orange light, her incarnate form manifesting piece by piece. She grows a little taller, seeming to manifest the classic magical girl sailor suit as her uniform at the start, but after her fairly standard top she ends up with a tight pair of shorts instead of the skirt, bare feet instead of the boots, and fingerless gloves.


    The shining tiara still appears on her head as her last piece of clothing, but the transformation apparently isn''t done. Sharp, pointed ears emerge from the top of her head as a gray wolf''s tail sprouts from the back of her spine. What was the beginning of hope turns to terror as claws grow from her fingers and toes. Is she another¡­ no. It can''t be, right? Even with the animal features, she doesn''t look like a monster the way Anath and her ilk do. No crystals grow out of her flesh, and despite the collection of extra parts she''s far more human than beast, more girl than wolf. The final part of her transformation is the manifestation of her incarnate weapons: a pair of long daggers, one in each hand.


    She spots me staring and gives me a wink.


    "Y??????? F??s? L????s???? A??????s?!" she announces to the world, her orange transformation stone shining on the back of her right hand.


    "Who the fuck are¡ª" Anath begins, but she''s interrupted by the pavement around the unknown Earth Guardian cracking as she rockets towards us, again too fast for me to see. I just hear the clang as Anath blocks a strike from the other girl''s dagger with the crystal blade on her forearm, having closed the distance between us in an instant.


    Anath''s irritation at being interrupted vanishes, that mad grin blooming once more on her face. Amaterasu matches the expression, the two of them pressing their weapons together, blades locked.


    "Cheater," Amaterasu accuses, though she doesn''t sound the least bit upset.


    "Haha, what?" Anath blinks, and the lock breaks, a rapid exchange of blows ringing out above me. I can''t muster the strength to move.


    "Your crystals are very valuable!" the newcomer calls out over the din of clashing blades. Her accent is fairly thick, though I''m way too lightheaded to try and figure out what kind of accent it is. "Store a lot of power! How much of it is yours?"


    "Nearly¡­ all of it!" Anath growls, pushing Amaterasu away and making distance just so the two of them can charge into each other at full speed. Move by move, Anath is matched in strength, her strength fading while Amaterasu remains fresh. Even as the laughter of Anath''s Catharsis fades, they fight on.


    I remain on the ground throughout it all, knowing I should return to human form so I stop bleeding out but being too damn stubborn to go through with it. Slowly but surely, the new Earth Guardian finishes the battle I started, and it looks like she never even needed my help. The sounds of the fight slow and then stop, and soon enough Anath''s unconscious body is dropped beside me.


    "Capture success!" Amaterasu beams. "You are Fulgora, correct? Hello!"


    "...Hi," I croak. "You''re an Earth Guardian?"


    "Yes¡­?" she confirms, seeming confused about why I had to ask. I flinch as her tail flicks behind her. "Uma''tama told you about the backup, correct? Please call me Su-san!"


    "Uh, okay Susan," I mumble. "Nice to meet you."


    "Su-san," she repeats, enunciating each syllable for some reason.


    "Yeah, okay. Um. It''s great that you beat her," I say, pushing down the boiling envy inside me. "But she did say she was trying to distract us."


    "Oh," Susan says, her smile dropping. "Distract us from what?"


    "I don''t know," I answer. "So I guess she succeeded."


    She frowns thoughtfully for a moment and then shrugs, picking up Anath''s unconscious body with one arm and throwing it over her shoulder. It''s kind of comical, since even though she looks like she''s about my age and her incarnate form gained height during the transformation, she''s still very short.


    "Well, we will secure this one rather than chase two rabbits," she decides. "Are you a capable walker?"


    I assume she means ''are you capable of walking,'' but either way I think I give her a pretty clear answer by passing out.

 18. Unearth

    "I have to admit, I''m surprised you insisted on coming with us, Thea," Melpomene hums, her words only slightly difficult to make out over the rush of wind. "It''s nice to have you with us out of the castle."


    Thea shrugs, focusing forward as she directs the translucent flying disc the four of us are riding through the liminal space. She sits cross-legged in the center of it, her tome open in her lap.


    "It''s certainly a convenient method of travel," Nanaya agrees. "We should be coming up on our destination quite a bit earlier than anticipated."


    "What exactly was the intended method of travel if Thea didn''t join us?" I ask. "Was Mel just gonna carry my heavy ass the whole way?"


    "Luna," Melpomene chides. "There could still be Earth Guardians around. It would be dangerous if any of them hear you speak."


    "There are Earth Guardians around," I say, pointing ahead. "Two of them. They''re way too far away to see or hear us yet, though."


    "Why are you just mentioning this now?" Melpomene growls, causing a twinge of discomfort to crawl through my mind.


    "I wasn''t sure until just now," I insist. "You try interpreting magical energy fluctuation data without an instruction manual. Half the stuff I''m picking up on at any given time is complete nonsense."


    "How far away are they?" Nanaya asks.


    "I don''t know, a few miles?" I guess.


    "That''s about our target destination," Nanaya hums. "Are they waiting for us?"


    "It''s a portal to the Dark World," Thea points out. "Of course the Earth Guardians are going to be monitoring it."


    "There shouldn''t be any monsters there, not anymore," Melpomene considers. "The Preservers should know that¡­ but I suppose it might be odd if they didn''t send the local Guardians anyway. Someone might start asking questions about how they know which convergences will have monsters in advance."


    "What''s the deal with that, anyway?" I ask. "Is someone actually going to explain the conspiracy I''ve just joined?"


    "We''re still looking for all the answers," Thea says. "We don''t actually know a lot, we''re all just lucky enough to have had enough disagreements with the way the Preservers do things to put together how worryingly suspicious it all is."


    "Wait, so we''re actually just conspiracy theorists? I thought I was joking," I say.


    "Don''t be daft," Nanaya snaps. "It''s not as though we think the Earth is flat because airlines have layovers."


    "We''re more like investigative journalists on the run from the law," Thea says. "We had good reason to believe something was up, so we started poking around, and so the powers that be started getting really, really mad at us. Eventually our choices were to hang up the transformation stone for good or run away and live in the Dark World, and all of a sudden it felt like there was a pressing need to not give up the stone."


    "Okay," I allow. "So what are all these worryingly suspicious things, then?"


    "The refusal to allow us to so much as try to investigate the Antipathy and their artifacts is the big one for me," Thea shrugs. "I get that a lot of the artifacts are dangerous weapons, but most of them aren''t. You literally can''t have a society that is mostly weapons. You still need technology to grow and distribute food, to create potable water, to transport things, to communicate over long distances, to write with, to make art with. Even a hypothetical military-only society would be at least as much logistics as it would be weaponry. Most artifacts are completely safe."


    "There is definitely something they are hiding about the Antipathy," Melpomene insists. "The fact that we know the Preservers and Antipathy were at war¡ªa war that the Preservers obviously won¡ªmeans we are at best learning what their propaganda believed about Antipathy society. And we know nothing about why the war started or who started it. We only know whatever the Preservers claim to be true, but they actively try to prevent Earth Guardians from investigating Antipathy ruins to look for answers. There''s only one reason to do that."


    "They control the supply of all magical warriors on Earth," Nanaya says. "And they are the sole deciders of where and when those magical warriors deploy, and against what. To be an Earth Guardian is to defend the Earth against monsters¡­ but only monsters by the Preservers'' definition. That means beasts from the Dark World, that means us, and that means anything else they decide our planet would be better off without. We aren''t allowed to make those decisions. The citizens of Earth aren''t allowed to decide what Earth Guardians guard."


    "Yeah, okay, I can see it," I nod. I have a lot more thoughts than that, but it''s probably best I keep them to myself. I''ll admit, the Dark Rebellion has some pretty solid reasons to think that there''s foul play going on here, but it sounds like that''s all they have. No actual evidence of that foul play, just the trails it leaves behind. And they''ve apparently been looking for years now.


    "I know it''s not a lot," Thea says, seeming to pick up on my thoughts. "A lot of the early years were just us learning to survive. Nanaya tried to hide out on Earth after she stopped listening to the Preservers, but they went after her pretty relentlessly for it. I remember how they directed us to go after Melpomene and try to bring her in. It wasn''t¡­ I didn''t like it. It was wrong. She wasn''t even doing anything bad, but they¡­"


    She trails off, Melpomene herself frowning at the memory.


    "They were right about one thing, at least," Thea continues, staring at the webbed fingers on her mutated hand. "The Dark World really messed us up when we tried living there. I managed to rig together a system to keep its influence out of the castle, but it still eats away at us. Of course, now it''s way too late to go back. Even if I wanted to turn in my stone, we can''t exactly return to a normal life on Earth."


    "It''s not all bad," Melpomene insists. "I''ve rather grown to like my new body."


    Thea''s tail whips around a little behind her.


    "Well, it could definitely be worse," she allows. "But it could definitely be better."


    "We should cut the chatter," Nanaya says. "We''re almost to the target location, and apparently the enemy is waiting for us."


    "Going silent, boss," I say, popping a salute. I''m reluctant to, but orders are orders. I sure hope these conspiracy theorists see a little bit of irony in the fact that they are preventing me from interacting with other sources of information, but I''ll keep my hopes realistic.


    "It''s just two of them, right?" Melpomene asks. "We''ll blow through them before they can blink."


    "No need to waste time," Nanaya says. "I''ll handle them both myself. The two of you just get the artifact to the target area."


    "If you''re sure," Melpomene shrugs. "I wouldn''t mind a bit of a workout, but I suppose these two probably wouldn''t make me sweat."


    "Mmm."


    The black mist wall is plenty visible now, so Thea directs us right towards it as Nanaya summons her viola. She walks to the edge of our little transport disc, toes curling over the sides as she prepares to jump. When the magical girls shout in alarm, she starts falling off the side, coiling the muscles in her alien legs before launching herself directly at the ground. A single note of excruciating pain (thankfully blocked by my armor plates) is the last thing I hear before we plunge into the darkness of another world.


    Almost immediately, the mist clears, revealing a vast valley of thorny, twisted plants growing over what appear to be shattered ruins of Antipathy architecture. Rumblings of lightning in the upper atmosphere provide brief flashes of illumination, but a few areas of the broken city still emit a dull glow in the eternal night. It''s a dead metropolis, a mass grave for a culture, laid out before us like an epitaph. Rows upon rows upon rows of shattered stone, overgrown streets, and broken buildings stretch out ahead, all surrounding a singular large building in the center.


    "I was right," Melpomene breathes. "I''ve finally found it again."


    "Woah," Thea whispers, similarly enraptured. "This is incredible. This is enormous!"


    "It is so, so difficult to track the movement of Dark World fragments," Melpomene says. "I''ve been trying to find this one for years. And now, we have a fully functional Antipathy translator by our side. Now, we get answers."


    I stay silent, the three of us still close enough to the fog wall for a magical girl to pop in unexpectedly, yet I can''t help but silently agree with their awe. We''re explorers discovering an ancient lost city, unearthing Atlantis from the depths. Looking at it all, I feel a churning of new sadness blooming in my chest, a feeling of loss at what this civilization once was. Did they really destroy themselves? And if so, why?


    "I feel like a little girl again," Melomene says, her eyes roving around the city. "Take us down there, Thea."


    She points at one of the lightly glowing areas. Funnily enough, while this area certainly has more magical energy density than the liminal space or Earth, it''s the least magically dense section of the Dark World I''ve been in so far, and I don''t feel a higher-than-average amount of energy emitting from the direction of the light. It''s probably not magically powered, which is notable because all the artifacts I''ve seen so far¡ªmyself of course included¡ªhave been.


    Thea obligingly drops us in a street near the center of the glowing patch, small shattered archways creating a mound of debris every twenty yards or so¡ª


    The pathway arches are spaced exactly thirty-six tolyu apart to assist with natural navigation and provide comfort. Traditionally, individual works of art are carved into the underside of each, but as Antipathy society grew it became infeasible to keep up with demand without mass production. This, too, makes me a little sad.


    ¡ªwhich I now realize are more than just broken decorations. My eyes flash over the visible chunks of debris between four different arches, confirming that the undersides of each likely would have held the same pattern rather than being individualized. Maybe there will be different art on different streets, at least.


    "Luna?" Thea asks.


    "Sorry, kind of taking in a lot at once here," I say. "I guess my databanks have some random bits of Antipathy cultural trivia in them. I wish I knew how to dump the knowledge all at once so I could just read it, but I guess for now it''s a fun facts popup."


    "Well, don''t keep us in the dark!" Melomene says, looking surprisingly excited. Thea, meanwhile, groans at the pun. "What did you learn?"


    "Just that these broken arches are important to their culture somehow," I answer. "We''ll probably find them on every street. There was art on the underside before they all¡­ you know."


    Also, thirty-six is an oddly specific number to space things apart by. Unless, of course, it''s meaningfully arbitrary. For some reason, I just get the feeling it''s a natural number to default to, like ten or one hundred or¡­ oh, do they use base six? Huh. Neat.


    "Well, if you learn anything else like that, please let us know," Melpomene says. "I''ve been trying to form a concrete idea of Antipathy culture for so long now. It''s difficult being the leading expert on something merely by default. There''s nothing to learn from beyond whatever I figure out."


    "I feel that," Thea agrees, hopping over some of the rubble. "Come on, I wanna check out that light."


    We follow her, and it turns out the glow is actually caused by one of the arches, fully intact despite years without maintenance and an entire apocalypse happening around it. I walk below it, staring up at the underside, and watching the glow of the lines in the artwork project one of the only sources of light in this entire fragment. It''s pretty bright directly under it, but the glow was far dimmer from the air, the structure of the arch designed so that the artwork lies within a hooded section visible only from directly below. A measure to prevent light pollution, maybe?


    "Okay, this is super cool," Thea says, rising up into the air and manifesting a pair of tinted goggles over her eyes. "What is this? Some kind of liquid tubing? I''ve never seen this in artifacts before."


    "Well, no taking it apart," Melpomene insists. "We''re not here to disturb the ruins, we''re here to learn from them."


    "I''m a mechanic, not an archeologist," Thea grumbles. "Taking stuff apart is how I learn from it."


    "I know dear, but please humor me on this. Perhaps if we find enough other intact arches, we can try to disassemble one."


    "Alright, alright," Thea allows. "It just seems like very different technology than what I''m used to from the Antipathy. I''m curious."


    "The pathway arches are as much art and tradition as they are practical streetlights," I say. "They''re probably built using an older style on purpose."


    "I guess that makes sense," Thea nods.


    "That is very fascinating," Melpomene grins. "A peek at their older cultures! Maybe a hint as to what they were like before the war! The history of a whole society is laid out before us! Come, let us look for some writing. I want to make use of our new translator."


    That''s me, the walking translator. And since I''m also an intelligent weapon of mass destruction, I''m almost as dangerous as the Duolingo owl!


    "Well, if we''re looking for intact stuff, the huge building in the middle of all this seems like the obvious choice," I say. "If a building that big survived, some of the stuff inside of it probably did too."


    "Yeah, that makes sense," Thea says. "The building looks a little newer than everything else here, too. Hopefully it''ll have some good tech in it."


    Newer? I suppose it''s made more of metal than stone, but I''m not sure that''s indicative of age.


    "It''s in the center of the city, right?" I ask. "Wouldn''t it make sense for the city to have been built around it?"


    "You don''t build cities around skyscrapers, you build skyscrapers in cities," Melpomene says.


    "But that''s not a skyscraper," I counter. "Skyscrapers are skinny and tall because they have limited acreage to work with but relatively unlimited verticality. They don''t need to worry about what''s above them, but they absolutely have to contend with all the other buildings around for space. But that building is huge. If you were to build it in the middle of a city, you''d have to remove a ton of other stuff first. It''s wide enough to cover multiple blocks."


    "Hmm," Melpomene considers. "That''s a point. A number of different things could clear that much space, though. Especially if this building was built during the war."


    "Well we aren''t going to find out standing around talking about it," Thea says, rising up into the air. "All aboard the translucent disc express!"


    We hop on and Thea quickly takes us to the building, doing a wide pass around the exterior before deciding on an entry point. The building is mainly a hemispherical dome, with four thick, square pillars marking the corners of what would be a larger square if you were to enclose the hemisphere inside one. At the top of each of the pillars, there''s a small pit that looks like they once held something inside, cables similar to the ones inside my own body yet dramatically thicker are exposed to the air in their absence.


    "There," I say, pointing to the ground. "I see something that looks like it could be writing. Take us in for a lower angle."


    "Can do," Thea agrees, dropping us off in front of a wide series of doors into the building, the kind you might see at a movie theater or some other building expecting to have large numbers of people enter or exit at the same time.


    "Most of these symbols are numbers," I hum. "Incremented on each set of doors. Probably just to help people navigate, or as some kind of address system. There''s a spot that looks like it had the name of this place, but it''s¡­ you know, that."


    I point at an area above the doors that has been thoroughly smashed, what looks like fragments of letters occasionally visible underneath broken and crumpled metal, gouges dug inside of it to form different words in its place.


    "The vandalized bit just says ''take it all.''"


    Thea and Melpomene share a concerned look.


    "Well, we aren''t going to figure out what that means out here," Melpomene says. "Come on, let''s investigate the inside."


    Melpomene heads for the doors and I have no choice but to follow (though I don''t really have anything else to do in this situation anyway). The doors are locked, but they''re mostly just reinforced glass and I can punch a hole in them fairly effortlessly. Melpomene looks almost physically pained when I do, but we don''t really have another way inside so she doesn''t admonish me.


    The interior of the building is even darker than the exterior, which is pretty impressive for a place called the Dark World. The glass on the doors is the only way for light to get inside, and there don''t appear to be any functioning internal lights, but Thea simply summons a glowing ball out of her tome and illuminates everything that way. I almost wonder why she didn''t bother doing that before, but I guess all of us can see in relative darkness extremely well. Me because I''m a robot, and them because¡­ well, I guess it''s just what they are now. Whatever that is.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    The room immediately inside the doors is a sterile white, with a setup that reminds me somewhat of an entry hall to a corporate office. But looking up reveals a beautifully painted display on the ceiling, a mix of the twisting, maze-like styles in the castle with more realistic landscapes of flowing, golden grass underneath what appears to be an aurora borealis, albeit with the colors much sharper and brighter than I understand them to be on Earth.


    "Always with the ceiling art," I buzz.


    "If the monsters are anything to judge by, there were a lot of large aerial predators in the pre-apocalyptic Dark World," Melpomene explains. "And the Antipathy had large eyes on top of their heads. They looked up a lot more than they looked down."


    "I guess that would do it," I admit. "It looks like the pre-apocalyptic Dark World probably wasn''t all that dark, either."


    "No," Melpomene agrees. "I imagine it was quite a beautiful place."


    Huh. She seems genuinely wistful. Honestly, her whole mood has been surprisingly positive since we started this trip. Even her tail is flicking around excitedly as we wander through the halls.


    "You''re passionate about this stuff, huh?" I ask her. "I don''t think I''ve ever seen you this upbeat."


    "Oh yeah, Mel''s a huge nerd," Thea grins. "Honestly, that''s what got us into this whole mess."


    "Like you''re one to talk," Melpomene pouts.


    "Hey, I was a perfectly obedient little magical girl until you started rubbing off on me," Thea insists, elbowing her in the side. "The Dark Rebellion never would have got started if Mel here hadn''t been such a geek about all the Antipathy ruins we would come across on the occasional Dark World run. The Preservers were super mad that she kept going over mission time limits even before the transformations started happening. What grew in first? The tail?"


    "¡­The horns," Melpomene grumbles. "Though they were just little patches of crystal at the time. I kept them hidden under my hair so nobody noticed. The tail is just what got me caught."


    "Riiiight," Thea nods, tapping her cheek. "I remember you dragging me along on unsanctioned Dark World investigations alone. You wouldn''t even tell your team where you were going. Gosh, I remember being scared out of my wits at first. The first time I went along just because I was too terrified of you to say no!"


    "I-I didn''t mean to frighten you!" Melpomene insists.


    "Oh yeah, I know that in retrospect. You were so busy babbling about your theories on Antipathy culture that I couldn''t get a word in edgewise. There''s no way you noticed I was about to pee myself."


    "I thought you would be interested! You were always trying to get permission to investigate artifacts, I thought you''d enjoy just cutting out the middleman!"


    "Well, I did," Thea admits. "But I never would have even considered disobeying Uma''tama if you hadn''t dragged me along. I mean, they were basically my mom."


    "Why not?" I ask. "I disobey my mom all the time. Honestly, it''s one of the best ways I know I''m doing something right."


    "Well, I was like ten years old when this all started," Thea says. "I had to grow into my delinquency a little."


    "And look at us now!" Melpomene beams, raising her arms to indicate the room around us. "Pioneering human knowledge, uncovering dangerous conspiracies, and looking great doing it!"


    Thea chuckles, but the conversation quickly ends as we walk through another set of doors into a large room, filled from top to bottom with what look like glass cubes. Each is large enough to comfortably house an occupant, and many of them still seem to contain the remains of what seems to be furniture.


    "Are these¡­ living spaces?" Thea asks.


    "Not a lot of privacy," I comment. "They remind me more of jail cells."


    "They don''t seem particularly secure, though," Melpomene hums. "Let''s get a closer look."


    We head to the nearest intact cube, though rows and rows of them all stacked on top of each other are potentially available for investigation. It reminds me almost like a supermarket: tall shelves creating long isles to walk down, each looking the same as the last. Melpomene finds and tries the door to one of them, and it opens without resistance, allowing us inside. A strange smell wafts out from within, and the closest qualia my chemical sensors can compare it to is mulch.


    "I guess there must have been a lot of organic material making up the furniture, because it has been thoroughly decomposed," I comment.


    "That it has," Melpomene agrees, holding her nose. "Still, let''s see what we can find."


    "Oooh! Artifact alert!" Thea chirps excitedly, scurrying into the room and rifling through the pile of junk that was once this room''s contents. She pulls out a smashed circular frame, electronic entrails dangling out of it in every direction. It''s oddly morbid.


    "It looks like some sort of viewscreen," Thea declares. "Could be for any number of things, TV, computer monitor, videophone, whatever. Oh, wait! There''s writing on it!"


    She holds it up to me and I take a quick snapshot.


    "This is an utterly meaningless word, and the font is really stylized," I declare. "I think it''s like a brand name or something."


    "Darn," Thea frowns. "Well, this isn''t even a magical artifact, it''s electric powered. So it''s probably not super important."


    "It gives us a hint as to what these rooms were used for, at least," Melpomene hums. "Let''s keep looking."


    We investigate more of the little rooms, getting a better idea of what all might have been in a complete one based on the various mostly-destroyed fragments in each. As best we can tell, there''s always a place to sit and one of the viewing devices, but other elements of every room can be personalized. One of them even has the remains of what Melpomene thinks might be toys.


    "What they don''t have, however, is beds or toilets," Melpomene concludes. "We''re fairly certain the Antipathy still needed to expel waste and drink water and sleep and all the other basic maintenance tasks that we need, but none of these rooms are designed to take care of that. They probably aren''t permanent living spaces."


    "More importantly," Thea beams, pulling something up out of a pile of rotting wood, "check this out!"


    She unearths a relatively intact version of one of the viewing screens, though it still has countless cracks and missing pieces.


    "This should have all the parts the others were missing," she says smugly. "Gimmie like, twenty minutes, and I''ll get this thing running."


    "We don''t have a power source, do we?" I ask.


    Thea flicks me on the forehead.


    "You''re the power source, dummy!"


    Oh yeah. I guess I''ll never run out of cell phone charge again, will I? Somehow I actually kind of forgot. Being able to talk makes me feel a lot more human, because it''s actually really annoying having super fast thoughts or constant influxes of data when I''m in the middle of a conversation. Listening to people in slow motion is just uncomfortable, and I don''t have a compelling reason to do it anyway, so I just¡­ haven''t been. And unlike on Earth, there''s no constant background screaming of radio waves for me to try and interpret, just the somber silence of an ended world. Even my magic-sensing equipment doesn''t have much to report; this place has been dead for far too long to have anything still creating new emotions.


    Except for us, of course. The way Anath reads my emotional state based on what kinds of magic waft out from me makes me think I can probably do the same, and sure enough the more I work at it the more I think it''s possible. Melpomene''s northern-aligned joy and excitement mingle along with Thea''s, the two of them absolutely in their element as we tromp around the shattered remains of a dead civilization looking for clues. Plenty of other emotions waft off from them in the background, especially fear on Thea''s part and disgust on Melpomene''s, but even the emotions they train with most aren''t as strong as their joy in this place. It''s strangely relaxing.


    I think my body likes it when my master is happy.


    "Let''s keep exploring while Thea does her thing," Melpomene urges.


    "Should we be splitting up?" I ask. "I mean, I don''t really sense anything nearby, but this place is classic horror movie material. I don''t want to die from a lack of genre savvy."


    Melpomene snorts.


    "Even if there were any monsters left in this place, we wouldn''t be in any danger," Melpomene says. "Monsters wouldn''t survive long enough to invade Earth if they attacked each other."


    "You mentioned something like this when I first woke up in the castle," I say. "Monsters don''t attack you guys. Is that because you read as monsters, too?"


    "Of course we do. Just ask anyone on Earth."


    Huh. Yeah. I guess that was my first reaction too, I just didn''t think that counted for an objective measurement.


    "Fair enough," I say anyway.


    "Besides," Melpomene says, "there''s no need to worry about Thea in any case. She can hold her own if she needs to."


    Yeah, I guess I should have thought of that. If this were a horror movie, we wouldn''t be the ones running.


    With Thea off doing her own thing, Melpomene summons a purple flame to be our light source as we move on. Outside of the cubes, the air here is eerily sterile, no hint of the scents of decomposition that pervaded the rotting furniture. It kind of makes me curious: how long has this place been abandoned? It''s obviously been at least since the Antipathy destroyed themselves, but how long ago was that? I voice the question to Melpomene, and she shrugs.


    "Probably longer than we''ve been alive, but not necessarily that much longer," she says. "Antipathy ruins weren''t ruined by age, but by catastrophe."


    "Yeah, I was thinking about that," I say. "Like, it''s a little weird for all that furniture to only be partially decomposed if this is some ancient civilization."


    "Yes. Although it''s possible that this place is very old, and it merely has some form of filtration system that failed relatively recently. I haven''t encountered very many wooden Antipathy-made items that were even as intact as the ones we just saw."


    I nod, feeling vaguely surreal as an entirely normal and civil conversation completes while I''m alone with Melpomene. We pop out of the rows of glass cubes at the other end, near the center of the room where they all seem to meet. There, we find an enormous square metal pillar extending from the floor all the way up to the high ceiling above. It, too, is covered in gouges and scratches, like a large-scale version of the vandalism you''d find in a bathroom stall. Yet instead of lurid comments and unsolicited phone numbers, we have furiously maddened ramblings.


    "''A gift for a gift.'' ''Choke on us.'' ''Welcome to our home.'' ''Enlightened and united,''" I recite for Melpomene. "''Antipathy.'' ''Antipathy.'' ''Antipathy.''"


    And, of course, the words we saw carved into the front of the building are repeated in countless places.


    "''Take it all.''"


    "Goodness," Melpomene frowns, her lips pursed. "I think I might see a door. Let''s see what''s inside."


    The door is nothing like the easily opened clear glass of the past few. It is tightly secured heavy metal, and though many bits of vandalism carve over the front of it, I can still read the words that were originally there: ''Danger. No entry.''


    "Charming," Melpomene comments. "Open it for me, would you dear?"


    I step forward and punch the door, the metal caving around my fist with a loud screech. I hit it again, and then again, and now it''s warped enough for me to reach through the hinges to snap the frame from the other side. The door collapses into the room with a loud crash, and Melpomene steps past me to enter first.


    "¡­God. What is this?"


    I step in after her, looking up at an enormous machine that towers several stories above us. Or at least, I look at what''s left of it. Smashed control consoles are bolted to the floor in front of us, where a large window of now-shattered safety glass separates us and the bulging metal mechanisms in the other room. It''s the same black metal that I''ve seen most other artifacts made out of, even Thea''s custom emotion collectors, but half of it is scattered around the edges of the room in twisted heaps. Looking around, I realize that the glass shattered towards us, a fact that seems obvious in retrospect when looking at the main area of the machine.


    At the center of it all is an enormous metal tank, bulging along its middle as it likely warped shortly before exploding. The half of it facing us is little more than twisted tears of metal showing its insides like a cracked-open geode. After all, the center of the machine contains nothing but the largest crystal formation I have ever seen in my life. A twisting mass of vibrant geometric color, the size of a house, all of it red and purple. It''s like the crystals that make up my body, the crystals growing on the other members of the Dark Rebellion, the crystals that compose transformation stones. It is an unmatched, solidified collection of rage and hate.


    "There you guys are," Thea says behind us, causing Melpomene to flinch and let out a slightly undignified yelp that would have made me burst out laughing if doing so was still an automatic process rather than a conscious one. Consciously, I decide not to because it would probably upset her.


    "Thea!" Melpomene breathes. "Don''t sneak up on me like that!"


    "Hey, now you know how I feel," Thea says. "I finished the¡­ what the heckity heck is that!?"


    "Honestly?" Melpomene says. "I think the best word I can think of to describe it is an antipathy."


    Thea scurries into the room, the repaired monitor in her hands all but forgotten as she sidles up next to Melpomene. The movement and the closeness looks almost instinctive, like it''s just her natural reaction to fear.


    "Yeah, that''s¡­ how is it even possible to put that much hate in one place?"


    "Clearly, it wasn''t," Melpomene answers, gesturing to the devastated room.


    "Okay, but that''s an unrefined storage crystal, right?" Thea asks. "Naturally grown, it has to be."


    She drops off the monitor in Melpomene''s hands, which Melpomene accepts rather bewilderedly as she rushes up to the crystal to investigate it.


    "Careful," Melpomene warns.


    "I don''t sense any magical energy charges around, other than from us," I report in case it''s relevant. I honestly don''t really know, this is all a bit above my knowledge base.


    "That''s what makes this so impossible," Thea says, hopping up over broken piles of machinery to reach the crystal itself. "These things only form in the presence of intense magical density, like our bodies. They''re sort of like magic''s natural response to being overpressurized: the crystals hold magical energy way more efficiently than any other material, and so magical energy is spent to produce them, causing all the other magical energy in the area to have a way easier time hanging out. At least, that''s my current theory. Most Earth Guardians just think it''s a crystallized form of magic itself, but magic isn''t a mineral, it''s a reality-bending energy source. It can create physical forms, but it doesn''t have a physical form."


    "On task, Thea," Melpomene chimes in.


    "Right, thanks. My point is, to create a crystal this size, you''d need to condense an absolutely insane amount of magical energy into a single space, and that clearly worked. The crystal is here. But the moment the crystal was created, that massive amount magical energy wouldn''t be under pressure anymore, it would be safely contained in the crystal. So you''d need not only the absolutely mind-boggling amount of energy required to make this thing in the first place, but you''d need several orders of magnitude more energy to then cause it to explode like this."


    "Alright, so you''re saying some people got really, really angry," I say. "Why is that so weird?"


    "It''s weird because someone like Mel or Castalia can blow up multiple city blocks channeling magic through a crystal the size of my palm," Thea says. "If this exploded¡ªand it clearly exploded¡ªwe shouldn''t be able to see the remains of it anymore. This entire city should be a crater!"


    Oh. Yeah, that sounds bad.


    "Is this a weapon, then?" Melpomene asks, her eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe it launched all this energy somewhere else, and the devastation in this room is just the backblast."


    "I mean, this doesn''t really look like a firing mechanism," Thea frowns, sticking her head behind some of the busted metal panels. "But yeah, the energy definitely went somewhere. The question is¡­ where? Actually, scratch that, two questions: where and how?"


    "Maybe the monitor thingy you fixed will have some answers," I suggest.


    Thea blinks with apparent surprise, straightening up a bit from the monkey-like position she ended up in climbing all over the machine.


    "Oh yeah!" she says like she didn''t just spend the last twenty minutes making this. "Open your ports, Luna! Let''s plug this in!"


    "You can''t just ask a girl to open her ports like that, Thea," I admonish her. "At least buy me dinner first."


    Thea blinks.


    "But you can''t eat anything," she says, seeming dumbfounded by the entire interaction. I hang my head in defeat and open up my ports as instructed.


    "Alright, alright, let''s see what this thing is," I allow. Well, ''allow'' is a strong word. I mostly just got to delay following the order for a little bit because I thought Melpomene might find it funny. Which she did, so that''s good. She really is in a great mood.


    Thea hops down, collects her Frankensteined contraption from Melpomene''s arms, and reaches a long line of exposed wiring with a jury-rigged SPDP connector to stick it into my body. I might not eat things anymore, but this does feel a little like someone just pulled a strand of spaghetti out of their nose and intends to feed it to me.


    "Can''t you at least insulate that?" I whine.


    "What do you want me to do, wrap the whole thing in electrical tape? Come on, it''ll be fine."


    She plugs it in, and I send power down the line along with the standard handshake. To my mild surprise, I actually get one back. The screen flickers and futzes online, a frankly rather pathetic processor booting up inside like a lobotomized child. It takes a few attempts to get through its startup routine, and the moment it lets me query I find that nearly all of its memory storage is corrupted, but nearly all isn''t all. Enough of the OS is functional (and woah is that a weird experience. Interfacing with an OS as a peripheral is so much protocol, but it all comes out of me like I''ve known it my entire life) that I can try to figure out what the heck this device even is, and the answer both makes a lot of sense and no sense at all.


    "This is a multimedia center," I report. "It has¡­ shows and movies and games and stuff. There''s Antipathy media on this thing!"


    "Show me!" Melpomene immediately demands, nearly bowling Thea and I over in her excitement.


    "I''ll do what I can," I assure her, recovering and reconstructing as much of the data as I''m able. "The files themselves are in real bad shape, but I think I can cobble at least one of these together into something playable. Give me a couple minutes."


    They back off, though Melpomene is nearly vibrating with anticipation as I work, her wings extending out from her back and flapping gusts of air towards the ground for no reason other than to move. I start to put something together: I''m pretty sure it''s a movie or an episode from a television show or whatever equivalent the Antipathy had. And it is from this that I find my first picture of what I can only assume is an Antipathy.


    Like humans, they walk upright on two legs, though their legs are short and they have a tail that''s even shorter, a stubby, lizard-like appendage that seems to mostly be for balance with their top-heavy torso. The Antipathy does indeed have large black eyes bulging on top of its wide, flat head, with a small mouth nestled underneath them. In place of arms, four long tendrils emerge from its body, flexibly twisting and writhing even as the main body seems to stand still. Overall, they honestly look pretty damn ugly. Or at least, that''s what I feel like I should think, but for some reason all I feel when I look at them is an odd, melancholic relief.


    No, when I look at him. I''m pretty sure that''s a male Antipathy, though I cannot for the life of me figure out why. As I complete more and more frames, smoothing out the corruption half through data management and half through manual editing, I start to get enough to understand the show that I''m watching. Once I''m confident that I have enough of it recreated, I start to play it on the monitor. Melpomene and Thea''s eyes go wide, my own speaker system acting as the crackling audio even though neither of them can understand the words being said.


    "What is this?" Melpomene asks. "Is it¡­ juggling?"


    "Yeah," I confirm. "He''s juggling. And singing a song."


    "¡­That doesn''t really sound like music," Thea winces.


    "It sounds kind of awful by human standards, doesn''t it?" I agree. "But I think the Antipathy consider this good music. Either that, or I recreated it like crap. Audio is a lot trickier than video to reconstruct."


    Or maybe I just second-guess myself more with audio.


    "So why is there a video of a juggler on a multimedia system that sits in every glass box in the other room?" Melpomene asks. "I have to admit, after all of this I was expecting¡­ I don''t know, technical manuals on how to operate a doomsday device or something."


    "I think," I say slowly, "that this is actually a children''s show."


    "A children''s show?" Melpomene gapes.


    "Yeah," I confirm. "It''s not the only thing on here, there''s way too much for it to reasonably all be for kids, but yeah. A happy-go-lucky children''s show."


    Individually, without another word, all three of us turn our heads to stare at the exploded remains of an unfathomable concentration of hate. Thea swallows. Melpomene''s gaze hardens. And I, of course, make no visible external reaction as my processor churns away at repairing this memory of what the Antipathy once were.


    "I take back all my snark about conspiracy theorists," I say. "This shit stinks like a public bathroom."


    Melpomene nods, not taking her eyes away from the devastation.


    "We''ll figure it all out," she promises. "With your help, we''ll uncover everything. We won''t let any of this happen to Earth."


    I nod back, knowing that those words have the weight of an order that will stay on my shoulders long past today. But for once, I can''t bring myself to resent it.

 19. Guardian

    "...I think it''s a eulogy," I say, taking a moment to decide on a specific translation. "''There is no justice greater than freedom, and thus no afterlife deeper than where he rests.''"


    "Hmm," Melpomene frowns. "And deeper is¡­ better, yes?"


    "I think so," I nod. "I guess this statue was Antipathy Martin Luther King Jr. or something. It''s impressive it managed to stay so intact all this time."


    Thea, Melpomene, and I are wandering the town, our investigation of the huge central building offering no further insight. Thea collected as much artifact scrap as she could carry on her magic hovering disc thingy, and now she''s doing the same around town while Melpomene and I take in the sights.


    "It''s so strange to see the ruins of a civilization so much like our own," Melpomene says softly. "Ancient civilizations on Earth may have had the advantage of being human to help us empathize with them, but there''s something uniquely chilling about a dead civilization that probably had tablets and smartphones. Their level of technology exceeded ours, but not by all that much in the grand scheme of things."


    "Yeah, they''re pretty humanlike as freaky tentacle monsters go," I agree. "It''s weird. They''re from a completely different universe. The odds of their culture developing so similarly are astronomically small."


    "No, they aren''t," Melpomene says. "That claim only holds true as a logical assumption if emotions are arbitrary qualia, like humanity used to think. But there is power to them. Therefore, there''s an evolutionary advantage to having the specific emotional range we happen to fall within. Of course other species would evolve this way. Of course they would develop cultures, develop prejudices, develop slavery, and then eventually push back against it. Disgust, fear, hatred, anger¡­ it''s all baked into the very foundation of the universe. They were not so different to us, Luna. And we are not so different from them. That''s why we must learn from their mistakes. If we don''t, we are doomed to repeat them."


    I stare up at the statue with her, weighing those words along with all the others she''s said to me since this started. For a person so concerned about the future, she''s awfully self-destructive. I quickly track down Thea''s magical signature and ensure it''s far enough away before responding.


    "Just spitballing here," I venture, "but has it ever occurred to you that one of those mistakes might have been creating a robotic torture-powered soul enslaver?"


    "It has, as a matter of fact," Melpomene answers flatly. "But unless you know of some other body you could house your soul in, I suggest you get used to it. As mentioned, yours is otherwise occupied."


    "Okay, but¡ª"


    "Shut up," Melpomene snaps, and my voice stops working. "I only brought you here to assist with collecting knowledge. I don''t have the patience to tolerate your complaints. Stay on task."


    I don''t outwardly react, but I feel any thought of berating her become impossible to follow through on, at least for now. Ugh. I guess even when she''s in a good mood, she''s still a bitch. I give in to the urge to resume my analysis of the statue, the suite of sensory equipment in my head investigating the stonework for cracks and other imperfections. Overall, it has held up remarkably well, especially in comparison to the dilapidated buildings surrounding the small courtyard the piece is displayed in. The statue itself is of an Antipathy, of course, carved with one set of tentacles forming a large O above his head and the other set of tentacles splayed out above him like he''s trying to do the YMCA dance.


    "Back on topic then," I say, "I think my body does raise an important question. Why is there an immaculately preserved statue of Tentacle Abraham Lincoln here in the city of the people who made the Slavery Optimiser Zero-Point-Nine? It seems a little incongruous."


    Melpomene nods, conceding the point.


    "It is odd, but there are so many possibilities it''s difficult to narrow them down. Though I''m loath to believe anything the Preservers have told us, it is entirely possible they were being honest when they said the Antipathy went mad. So much of what we have seen so far simply doesn''t match the level of spite present in the more recently developed artifacts of their civilization. Plus there''s the simple fact that they call themselves ''Antipathy.'' I seriously doubt that was the name of their species before the war; it would be like if, at the dawn of language itself, humanity just unanimously decided to call themselves ''the haters.''"


    Pfft. I mean¡­


    "That would be super accurate though," I point out, and Melpomene''s lips twitch into a smile fills me with bubbles of satisfaction.


    "Perhaps, but it''s still not something the species as a whole would actually do. ''Antipathy'' seems more like the name of a faction, a rebel group. Yet it''s so pervasive I''ve yet to find any references to another name."


    "Hence they all went mad," I say. "Yeah. The faction idea still makes a lot of sense, though. If they took over, they could have just censored other names. But where do the Preservers come in? If the Antipathy were having a civil war, couldn''t the Preservers have just stayed out of it?"


    "That''s the other thing. I''m not sure I believe there was a civil war," Melpomene hums. "Just look around. The city is in poor shape, but there''s no sign of battle. The buildings have collapsed, but they haven''t been blown up. I also haven''t seen any signs of burnt or melted materials that would be relatively common in a magical fight. If the Antipathy were fighting amongst themselves, it certainly wasn''t here."


    I look around, double-checking her claim and coming up with the same conclusion. By looking at nearby piles of rubble I can check the geometric outline of each shattered piece and match it to other chunks of stone in the same pile, reassembling the puzzle. The way everything broke is consistent with the ruins collapsing to mere wear and gravity. There''s no signs of material being flung a substantial distance away or being damaged by outside sources prior to the collapse.


    "You''re right," I confirm. "So what happened to this city? Did the magical apocalypse that broke the universe just happen to kill everyone but leave their houses intact?"


    "It must have," Melpomene says. "The question is why."


    "And how, isn''t it?"


    "Partially," Melpomene answers. "I don''t know the details on how the Antipathy broke their entire universe, but it clearly created an excess of free-floating magic in the process. They would have all died in the same way you nearly did."


    Hmm. Catastrophic soul damage from foreign magical energy getting osmosed inside, like a human cell not knowing how to stop absorbing water. I guess my body''s plating being largely impermeable to magic protects me now, but¡­ no, even when I open my plates I don''t feel like my soul is getting attacked by the atmosphere. Maybe it has something to do with the crystals?


    "Actually, I have a question about that," I say. "The black mist stuff is magical energy, right? So why do you guys go through all the trouble of stealing emotions from abusive households if the entire atmosphere outside your house is mostly magic?"


    Melpomene rolls her eyes and huffs, apparently offended about having to explain such an amateurish question. Sorry, master!


    "Nanaya has taught you what all the different colors of magic are, right?"


    "I mean, she didn''t tell me about black," I say.


    "She didn''t have to. Think about it. What color is black?"


    Well, I guess my first thought would be that it was hate or something, but I guess that''s covered by purple. Are there any major emotions missing? No, I''m thinking about this wrong. What color is black?


    "Is it just everything mixed together?" I ask.


    "Exactly," Melpomene confirms. "And I''m sure you''ve noticed, but magical warriors tend to optimize towards a single color wherever possible. Using other emotions is certainly doable, but even then you''d never want to mix different emotions into a single spell unless you knew exactly what you were doing. The magic in the atmosphere of the Dark World, however, is always mixed and never consistent. It is a tumultuous slurry of emotions, and worse, it''s an uncountable number of different people''s emotions. Attempting to use it as a source of power would be destined to backfire dramatically. The emotion that generates any given iota of magic is not irrelevant. Magic might be power, but it is a power that is owned. It comes from a soul. If you steal it, it must be carefully used in a manner consistent with the reason its soul created it. Joy must be used in a manner which would bring them joy. Anger must be used in a manner that would bring them anger. With the mist, that is all but impossible."


    Interesting. Very interesting. Magic always wants to act in accordance with the will that created it. That feels¡­ correct. Consistent with the vague recollections my body lets me have of the times I understood magic well enough to cast spells of my own. Is this why that knowledge gets locked away? If magic is always by its very nature attempting to fulfill my true desires and feelings, I guess it would stand to reason it would be an excellent tool for escaping the prison I''m in. Even if I was actively trying to cast a spell that does something completely different, any spell I cast could potentially work to free me instead.


    Spellcraft is, presumably, designed explicitly to direct magic in ways that minimize this risk. It would just be stupid if it wasn''t. Magic can already hypothetically do anything without the structure of a spell directing it, so what else would the formula be for if not reliability? Yet Melpomene is implying that even with that guidance, a spell can go wild if the emotion fueling it contradicts it enough. I guess knowing this is technically a bad thing, because it makes me less capable of doing it, but I unfortunately can''t delete this thought process because it is too directly tied to a conversation with Melpomene.


    Still. It''s a nice bit of hope to hang on to. If things get bad enough, maybe I really will be able to free myself by accident.


    "Well, I think we''ve seen all we can see around here," I say, changing the subject.


    "You''re probably right," Melpomene agrees. "It''s beautiful though, isn''t it? I could sit here all day. Unfortunately, we do need to leave before the convergence ends."


    "Should we get going, then?" I ask. "It will probably take a while to convince Thea to stop scavenging."


    Melpomene smiles fondly.


    "I suppose it will," she agrees. "Honestly, I haven''t seen her this excited in years. Even if you couldn''t translate for me, I might keep you with us just for that."


    Uh. I''m not really sure how to feel about that one. Melpomene looks happy again, though, and I''m getting a little tired of not letting myself take that win. That''s part of my plan, remember? Make the boss happy enough, and I might even get promoted to a position I can quit.


    Tracking down the little green otter is easy enough. She''s actively casting a spell in order to carry all of the junk she picked up, so Melpomene and I can both pinpoint her location with ease. We find her on the edge of town, rummaging through a squat building with walls thick and sturdy enough to survive the apocalypse.


    "Thea?" Melpomene calls out as we walk in. "We need to get going soon, dear."


    "Give me just a sec!" Thea insists. "This place has so much good tech. We''ve hit pay dirt on this one."


    "Really?" Melpomene says, suddenly intrigued. "What kind of tech?"


    "I have no idea!" Thea answers gleefully. "I''ve never seen this stuff before! It''s magic-powered, though, so this could be a huge learning experience. This could be the missing link I was trying to find to bridge the gap between those two different sizes of communicator¡­ aagh! It''s taking everything I have to not just open these babies up right here."


    "I''ll help you load it all up," I offer, walking into the room and spotting rows upon rows of a chunky rectangular artifact slotted into little holders on the walls.


    "Luna! Hey! Read this!" Thea insists, holding one of the artifacts up to my face and needlessly pointing out the words engraved on it.


    "It says ''stormbreaker,''" I tell her. "One word."


    "Woah!" Thea grins. "That''s awesome!"


    "It''s a portmanteau, technically, so I''m pretty sure it''s another relatively meaningless brand name," I explain. "It probably just says that to seem cool."


    "Okay, but what if it actually breaks storms!?" Thea vibrates. "What if you could just point this baby at a hurricane and just¡ªkazap!"


    "Then you are probably holding a weapon of mass destruction, and you should be careful with it," Melpomene answers. Thea groans and rolls her eyes.


    "Yeah, yeah, I know."


    We retrieve the devices, stacking them all on Thea''s disc. It''s a bit of a precarious pyramid, but we manage it. There''s barely enough space for the three of us to pack on together, but soon enough we''re up and away. The trip back to the wall of mist is simple enough, giving me plenty of time to think about everything we''ve seen today.


    In terms of artifacts, there has been a surprising mix of magic and non-magic powered technology. Some of it is impossible to identify, but some of it¡ªlike the boxes full of decomposed mush¡ªare more easily identifiable as refrigerators or other food storage. Even with the gap in technology, we can tell when something was originally a lighting fixture, or a plumbing system, or other simple things because the fundamentals of how they work are still more or less the same as our versions of them. The only exception are the lighting fixtures that still glow in the undersides of the archways we saw on the way here: Thea ended up taking one apart and found that they''re actually tubes of liquid full of bioluminescent creatures. Which, you know, was kind of sick, but it made me very sad when all of the stuff poured out onto the ground.


    We pass through the barrier of mist, my sensors going haywire for a moment before we end up back in the liminal space. We find Nanaya pacing angry circles in the ground, a pair of girls trussed up in glowing red string at her feet. They''re both unconscious, breathing shallowly and outside their incarnate forms, just normal humans. They do, of course, both have transformation stones, but I guess they couldn''t sustain their magical girl forms after whatever Nanaya did to them.


    Nanaya quickly notices us, and then rounds on us immediately.


    "Finally!" she snaps. "Where the hell were you!?"


    Melpomene straightens up, a little taken aback.


    "You know exactly where we were. Did something¡ª"


    "They took Anath!" Nanaya interrupts her.


    That stops everyone short.


    "What? What happened?" Melpomene demands.


    "Well she lost, obviously," Nanaya growls. "I told you she was over her head. She barely managed to fight Fulgora by herself, so what did you think would happen if the entire other team of Guardians attacked her as well?"


    "We''ll get her back," Melpomene insists.


    "You''re damn fucking right we will. And you''re going to help me."


    Nanaya yanks one of the girls up by the threads binding her and tosses her at Melpomene. Awkwardly, Melpomene catches her.


    "We''re raiding the Guardian base. Now. These two will get us inside."


    "Woah, woah, what?" Thea asks. "Can we just do that?"


    "If we''re fast enough? Yes," Melpomene confirms, a sharp frown on her face. "I would have preferred to stay further under the radar, but I suppose needs must. Nanaya and I will find the Guardian base holding Anath and infiltrate it with these two as our keys."


    She indicates the unconscious girl in her arms.


    "The two of you should head back to the castle. Defend yourselves and the artifacts if necessary. They are too valuable to lose."


    "O-of course," Thea nods, clearly shaken. "Are you sure you''ll be okay? Actually, give me one sec."


    She dives into her pile of artifacts, for a moment visible only as a tail flicking out of the scrap metal. She eventually emerges with some materials, and with her book open she starts quickly reshaping them, disassembling and recombining various parts until ultimately constructing what looks like a simple metal box about the size of my palm. She hands it to Melpomene.


    "A tracker," she says. "We''ll be able to find the entrances if this is inside their base. If you guys aren''t back in a few hours, we''re going in after you."


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Thank you, Thea," Melpomene smiles at her. "I''ll see if I can hide it somewhere inside, but I doubt we''ll need it. The girls in our city can''t stop us. I just wish we didn''t have to make them aware of that fact quite so early. This will be our only opportunity to perform a raid like this relatively unopposed."


    "Well, you should have thought of that before letting Anath run off by herself again," Nanaya snaps at her.


    "Don''t act like you couldn''t have stopped her," Melpomene counters testily. "She wanted to go, and we both thought she''d be stable enough to escape if things got bad. Quit blaming me for this. Let''s just get on with it."


    "Fine," Nanaya spits. Summoning her viola, she plays a screeching note that has both magical girls waking up screaming and clutching their ears.


    "You are going to show us how to enter the base in Fort Collins," Nanaya orders. "Understand?"


    I suppose their whimpers get taken as an affirmative, because Nanaya and Melpomene leap away shortly afterwards, dashing across the rooftops towards the edge of the liminal zone. I clench my hands into fists, but it''s the only expression of disapproval I can physically manage. Saving those girls is beyond me while my master has a use for them.


    "I hope they all get out okay," Thea says softly.


    I nod. With the magical girls so close and the likelihood of running into another on the way back, I can''t really say anything.


    "Well, come on. We have to get this stuff back home. Mel and Nana are really gonna kick the hornet''s nest here."


    We load back up onto her disc and fly off in more or less the same direction as Mel and Nanaya. Thea goes a little slower than we did on the way here, though, either because of the extra weight or because she''s trying to make distance between us and the other two. Ideally, Thea and I will make it back to the castle while all the attention is on Melpomene and Nanaya, but who knows what will happen.


    I just hope I don''t have to fight.


    - - -


    Groggily, I blink my eyes open, taking in the bright white ceiling above me, the space connecting it to the walls organically curved rather than cornered. I''m at base, I guess. What am I doing at base again¡­?


    "Fulgora-san!"


    Fulgora what? Who said that? Wait, I remember.


    "Susan?" I groggily ask, sitting up and looking around. Sure enough, there''s a short asian girl standing next to the bed I woke up on. She no longer has animal ears on her head, seeming completely back in human form. I glance down at myself and see that I have also fallen out of my incarnate form. I guess that explains why I woke up.


    For some reason, though, she''s still holding Anath over her shoulder.


    "You are okay!" Susan beams. "I was very worried when you did not become normal again. How did you hold incarnate form without having awake?"


    "Obstinance," I grunt. "Why are you still holding Anath? If she wakes up while we''re in human form, she will destroy us."


    "Yes, etto¡­ where do we put her?" she asks. "And where is your Preserver?"


    I blink.


    "Are they not around?" I ask. "Uma''tama? Huh. Well, that''s two good questions, I guess. Uma''tama!"


    I pull out my phone as I get off the bed, dialing the number they always call me with. Heading out into the hall, I look back and forth to figure out which room I''m in. Do we have a place to lock people up? I don''t think we have a dedicated prison or anything, but there are some sturdy rooms and if nothing else we can take her transformation stone. A quick glance at her indicates that Susan has at least thought of that much; she''s no longer wearing the choker that houses her stone.


    "Thank you for¡ª" Uma''tama answers.


    "Uma! Where are you?"


    "¡ªcontacting us through the Earth cellular phone network service. I am not connected at the moment and may not currently exist within your universe. Please leave your name and number after the little beepy noise and we will return your call as soon as I figure out how to check my messages. Goodbye!"


    The answering machine beeps and I nearly snap my phone in half. Okay! That''s fine. This is fine. Where''s the rest of my team? Are Veritas and Aurora okay? I guess I need to shift into an incarnate form if I want to track them down, but my Fulgora body is too injured and I just really don''t want to be Minerva right now.


    Wait, why not? This is kind of an important situation. Why do I keep getting so uncomfortable with my Minerva body sometimes but I''m totally fine with it at other times?


    Well, I definitely don''t want someone I just met to find out I''m both Fulgora and Minerva.


    Well I don''t want that either, but this isn''t really a situation where we can worry about that.


    ''We?'' ''Either?'' Why do I keep thinking shit like that? Did my mind finally crack?


    We also don''t have time to worry about the fact that we''re crazy! Come on, just let me take over already.


    What the fuck?


    "O??? A????, I F????."


    "Wait! Fulgora-san, you are still very injured, you should not¡ª"


    "B???? P?????ss D?????? M??????," I conclude, looking up at a world where suddenly everything is a couple feet taller.


    "¡­Eh?" Susan blinks.


    I immediately activate a communication spell, pinging for Uma''tama and my team. I find Veritas and Aurora immediately, both giving me confused return pings from deeper in the base. Thank goodness. I request them to come meet with us, sharing my location.


    "Fulgora-san¡­?"


    "My name''s Minerva when I''m like this, yes I have two incarnate forms, no I don''t know why, please don''t make a thing out of it."


    Susan nods, though the frown on her face indicates she still has many questions. As long as she waits to ask them at a better time, that''s fine by me.


    "Okay, follow me," I say. "We should have a relatively safe place to put Anath, and I should be able to bind her up for a while."


    I lead her through the halls, dropping Anath in a small room and wrapping cuffs of lightning around her wrists and ankles. Then I exit, locking the door behind me as I turn to address Susan again.


    "Okay, I''m not sure where Uma''tama is, but¡ª"


    "We''re here!" Uma''tama squeaks, appearing out of thin air above my head. "We''re here, please accept our apologies, there was a slight incident. Two Guardians from a city over fell out of contact while stationed at a convergence site. We still aren''t sure where they are, but we''ve gathered some Guardians from other areas to search for them. Anyway! Hello!"


    "Uh, hey Uma, we sort of¡ª"


    "Hello, Uma-sama!"


    "Er, hello Amaterasu. It''s Uma''tama, actually."


    "Sumimasen, Uma''tama-sama."


    "What? Oh, ah, ii desu yo. Apologies, I''m a little rusty with non-English Earth languages. It''s just been so long since I learned all the others!"


    "It''s okay! I have not practiced English much yet!"


    "Then we can learn together!" Uma''tama smiles. "Though in truth, your English is already quite impressive."


    "Yeah that''s great I''m glad everybody''s saying hi to each other can we talk about the girl we have imprisoned in the other room?"


    "The what?" Uma''tama blinks.


    "Yes, yes! The funny blue and yellow squirrel!" Susan agrees. "What should we do with the traitor?"


    "Traitor?" Veritas asks, walking in from the end of the hall. Aurora wanders in behind her, looking equally curious.


    "Susan here captured Anath," I explain.


    "Su-san," Susan repeats.


    "Oh, um, hello Su-san," Aurora waves. "I''m Aurora, and this is Veritas."


    "Hello!" Susan beams.


    "Did you really capture Anath?" Veritas asks. "Can we see?"


    As much as I''d rather they didn''t¡­


    "Yes, we''ll need your help, I think. Anath mentioned being a distraction for something, Uma. It might be connected to whatever made those other guardians go missing."


    "You think¡­ oh. Oh no," Uma''tama gapes. "Oh, we hope that''s not true."


    "Why, what''s the matter?" I ask.


    "Well, let''s not worry about the worst-case scenario when we have someone we can ask directly," Uma''tama hedges. "Come, everyone. Let us see what your wayward sister has been up to all this time."


    We open the door and find Anath exactly where I left her, unconscious and cuffed to the wall. Aurora walks forward, Veritas summoning her weapons to cover her. Then, Aurora kneels down and casts a healing spell on our enemy, recovering her just enough to wake her up.


    "Wha?" Anath blinks groggily. "What the heck¡­ oh. Huh. Haven''t been here in a while."


    "Hello, Anath," Uma''tama greets.


    Anath brightens up immediately.


    "Uma''mama! Hey! How''ve you been?" she asks.


    "Rather stressed, recently. And very worried about you and your friends. We wish you''d all just come back to us of your own accord."


    "Nah, can''t do that," Anath shrugs. "We''re all pretty sure you''re evil. Plus, there''s no way you would let me keep beating up Fulgora, and where would be the fun in that?"


    "Can we stay on topic?" I grumble. "You mentioned that you were distracting us from something. What was it?"


    A bunch of the other girls turn towards me with concerned or annoyed expressions.


    "Giving away the game a little," Susan scowls.


    "What, you think she''s just gonna tell us?" Veritas snaps.


    Oh yeah. I forgot none of these people have spent the better part of a year fighting this moron.


    "Yes, that''s exactly what I think she''s going to do," I answer.


    "I mean, I was going to, but now I kind of don''t want to," Anath pouts.


    "Just tell us already," I insist, glowering at her. She tilts her head to the side and gives me an odd look.


    "¡­Fulgy?" she asks. "Why are you so small?"


    "Anath," I snap.


    "Fine, fine," she sighs dramatically. "Honestly, I wasn''t really paying too much attention to the details, but Melpomene and Thea were both super excited so they were probably going to go explore some Antipathy ruins and grab a bunch of artifacts. I got the impression it was a pretty big deal, so I volunteered to go beat you up and keep you busy. Which worked! Now I just have to figure out how to leave."


    "Oh, no," Uma''tama frets. "Oh dear, oh no. We have to stop them!"


    "You know something, Uma?" I ask.


    "The girls that went missing! They were guarding a massive Dark World fragment. Any number of dangerous things could have been inside! If we let them collect whatever artifacts they can find, it''s inevitable that they''ll end up getting sold to the black market! This could be an influx of Antipathy weaponry unheard of on Earth!"


    "Ready for deployment, Uma''tama-sama," Susan says, standing up straight.


    "Err, just Uma''tama is fine, dear. But you just fought Anath!"


    "Fulgora did most of work, I''m in perfect shape," Susan insists.


    "My team is ready to go too," I add, because I can tell they are. Veritas is just about vibrating in anticipation of a fight.


    Uma''tama sighs, putting a paw to their forehead.


    "We know this will not discourage you, but Melpomene and Nanaya will be very difficult enemies to face. If it comes to it, prioritize rescuing your allies, destroying the artifacts, and escaping over defeating the enemy."


    "We will win," Susan insists, a feral smile creeping up her face.


    "Ooh, I like you. We should fight later," Anath grins.


    "¡­We did," Susan answers.


    "We didn''t fight," Anath disagrees. "You just cleaned up Fulgy''s sloppy seconds."


    "Doesn''t matter," Susan says, holding up Anath''s transformation stone. "You won''t be getting this back."


    Anath laughs.


    "Won''t I, though?"


    "Enough banter, she''s just stalling us," I insist. "Uma, we need to deploy now. They''ve got to be going back to the fragment they usually hide out in. Can you help us track them at all? Help us head them off?"


    "We will do our best," Uma''tama nods. "Aurora, please put Anath to sleep."


    Aurora nods and casts a spell, which Anath fights for only a few moments before going under. She''s pretty seriously injured.


    "Alright! Let''s go, team!"


    We move out together, settling into our usual formation of Aurora in my right arm and Veritas in my left, untransformed on the trip over. Susan becomes Amaterasu, speeding ahead of us at a pace I couldn''t match even if I wasn''t carrying the rest of my team. It''s embarrassing, but I grit my teeth and let her rush out of sight. We have no idea where the witches are, no idea if they''re already long back at their base by now. Every second counts if we want to intercept them.


    "Su-san reports detecting an active spell in the liminal space," Uma''tama informs me over comms. "I will indicate the travel direction."


    I get a feeling vaguely urging me in a particular direction so I turn to follow it, pumping more and more fear into my flight spell to get there as quickly as possible. What if we fail? What if Amaterasu is already dead by the time we get there? What if they found a massive weapon stockpile and create an army? I know these fears aren''t rational but they don''t need to be. They just need to be fuel.


    "Stop it!" a girl''s voice rings out in the darkness of the liminal space. "Stop! Would you just listen to me for a second?"


    A flash nearly blinds me, or at least it would have if my incarnate form wasn''t so used to lightning. Three impacts ring out before I manage to see what''s going on, and by then Veritas and Aurora are already transforming. I throw them at the battle before I even fully take in what''s going on.


    A huge transparent platform floats in the air, absolutely piled with the largest collection of artifacts I have ever seen in my entire life. Among them is the humanoid artifact I fought a couple times before, constantly in motion as it blocks and counters attacks from Amaterasu, little more than an orange-gold blur as she leaps around the battlefield looking for new angles of attack.


    "Are you about to tell us that you are here to give all of these to the Preservers?" Amaterasu calls out.


    "No!"


    "Then I do not think there is much to say!"


    And then there''s her. A witch I haven''t seen before, the title almost comically fitting given her green skin. A blade-tipped tail thrashes behind her, crystalline growths marring the entire right side of her body. Her right eye, too, has an inky-black sclera, indicative of the Dark World corruption seeping through her blood. Is she new? Did they get more recruits, or is she just one of the members I haven''t met yet? She''s not attacking, not even really defending, though she occasionally throws up a magical shield to protect the pile of artifacts.


    Veritas and Aurora land on the platform, immediately moving to engage the humanoid artifact. Amaterasu rushes in to do the same, and in the moment it takes for me to summon my staff and aim my spell, there has already been a rapid exchange of a dozen different blows. The artifact moves with inhuman precision, every attack missing by the barest fraction of an inch or deflected at the last possible moment. But it can''t deflect this. I launch my signature spell, and it crashes into the artifact''s shielding despite an attempted dodge. From there, the others begin to get the upper hand, preventing it from even attempting a counterattack.


    "I. Said. S???."


    The air thickens into a sludge so unyielding it feels almost solid. My movements are slowed to a crawl, an enormous effort of strength required to shift even the slightest bit. The green witch stands with a large tome open in her hand, the pages flipping themselves as her transformation stone gleams on the cover. Everyone but her is affected, Veritas, Aurora, and even Amaterasu all locked mid-swing in whatever attack they were attempting seconds before. The humanoid artifact is similarly locked, frozen motionless without even the twitch of watery eyes trying to blink.


    "I don''t want to fight any of you," the green witch insists. "And I doubt any of you should actually be here fighting me. My friends are in your base and breaking Anath out as we speak. Shouldn''t you have more important things to do?"


    With a sound like shattering glass, Amaterasu suddenly breaks away from where she was locked, rushing the witch.


    "G???? B????!"


    A brilliant beam of light erupts from one of her daggers, and she dismisses the second to place both hands on the hilt of the now-longer blade. The witch blocks her thrust with another shield, but with a roar of effort Amaterasu shoves her empowered weapon through the barrier, causing an explosion that knocks the witch screaming from the platform. The effects of her spell end immediately, and the artifact reacts before Veritas and Aurora do, sweeping their legs and knocking them to the ground.


    No!


    I swoop in without thinking, deflecting the artifact''s followup strike with my gunstaff. This gives Amaterasu enough time to rush back, connecting a punch directly to the side of the artifact''s head that launches it off of the platform. The artifact flips in midair, thrusters emerging from between its metal plates to arrest its momentum just enough for its feet to fully cushion its impact with a nearby wall. The liminal brick cracks under the force, but a moment later the artifact is launching itself right back at us.


    Probably not the best move.


    "F???????? T??????!"


    I put more impact into the spell than usual, knocking the artifact off course and sending it crashing towards the ground. Amaterasu leaps off the platform and intercepts it before it can land, dismissing her weapons and grabbing it by the wrist before unleashing a laser from her other palm directly into its chest.


    "[S ? ? ? ? B ? ? ? ? ? ?]"


    Hey, what the fuck. Did that thing just steal another one of my spells? Sure enough, a torrent of angry clouds forms out of nowhere and swirls around the artifact, electrocuting Amaterasu as she tries to press the assault. The artifact uses her as a springboard, kicking her towards the ground and activating its thrusters to rush back up to the platform, but Amaterasu manages to catch its ankle and throw it back into the ground. Aurora is doing what Uma''tama suggested, and is about to melt the entire collection of Antipathy scrap into slag.


    "?C??????? L????????!"


    "No!"


    The witch leaps up onto the roof of a building and another barrier pops up between Aurora and the pile of artifacts. Aurora grits her teeth, clenches her fists, and burns through it, melting an enormous chunk of the dangerous contraband.


    Nice work, Aurora!


    She really is talented. I''m not sure if we can completely win this, but achieving our main objectives is doable.


    "Q??? P??s? R??!" the witch screams, glowing sci-fi weapons constructed from pure magical energy appearing in the air in a formation over her head. With a high-pitched screech they all fire green lasers at Aurora, and though she dodges a direct hit, the force of the impact still knocks her off the platform. Veritas jumps off after her, catching her in the air and preparing to leap back into the fray.


    "You idiots!" the witch shrieks. "Do you have any idea what you''ve just destroyed!?"


    Not really, and I don''t care. Amaterasu has resumed her assault on the artifact, and the longer the fight goes on the more and more it seems to be tipping in her favor. I turn my weapon towards the witch. You don''t get to shoot my team and get away with it.


    "Can you really not just leave us alone?" the witch asks through gritted teeth, and I realize she''s crying. "Can I not even have a single conversation without being attacked?"


    I hesitate. She''s not faking it, I know she''s not. I guess I''d already decided we would be letting her go, so¡­


    "We''re just here for the artifacts," I tell her, my weapon still ready to fire. "You were an Earth Guardian, right? You know I can''t let you have them. But if you leave, I won''t stop you."


    The girl sighs, her eyes glancing down at the skirmish between Amaterasu and the humanoid weapon.


    "I was an Earth Guardian," she confirms. "And I still am. G???? M? C??????."


    We all feel it. That twist of time when a Guardian transforms. Or, I suppose, when a witch assumes her incarnate form. The transformation stone wedged in her tome glows brightly, the wild-grown crystals on her body glowing as well, bathing the liminal space in green. The witch''s entire body falls away into that light as her baggy overalls disintegrate into nothing, revealing the misshapen, animalistic legs underneath. But as the transformation progresses, they morph and twist back into the humanoid shapes they presumably once had. The blade-tipped tail shrinks back into her spine, the clawed, webbed hand of her right side reverts to soft, pale skin, the fingers unbound.


    The various crystals growing out of her flesh seem to peel themselves off of her skin, spiraling and flying through the air as streaks of light, orbiting around the tome holding her transformation stone until they impact the front cover, fusing with the book. The intricate leather bindings twist and grow like living flesh, the crystals forming cracks in the cover like something erupting from within. What was once a beautiful book becomes monstrous, a hideously twisted corruption from what was once a collection of knowledge to what is now a weapon of war. The transformation stone peers out from the fleshy bindings like an eye, staring hungrily into my soul.


    The girl''s outfit manifests, a tattered, black and green backless dress that flaps freely in the wind. A wide-brimmed pointed hat settles onto her head. And though her book devoured most outward signs of her monstrousness, leaving a frail-looking barefooted girl, both of her eyes are now black.


    "F?????? S??? D????? A???????."


    The burst of magical pressure that erupts from her when she says those words is enough to push me back a full foot. The air is heady with fear, spreading from her body like leaders of ionized gas before a bolt strikes. But what someone that powerful could be afraid of, I can''t possibly imagine. She reaches inside the pages of her book and pulls out an emerald staff, holding it in one hand while her tome remains open in the other.


    "It''s been a while," she says softly, "but I still remember how to fight monsters."

 20. Confluence

    The great irony of being a fear mage, I think, is that we''re always at our strongest when we know we''re going to lose.


    Rarely, very rarely, this gives us the strength we need to pull through in a situation thought hopeless. But the problem with that surge of strength is that we know we''ll get it. We know, in the back of our minds, we are at our best when things are at our worst. So the truest, deepest fear never arrives. As things get worse, as threats get bigger, we know exactly how much we can rise to face them. And if we can, they aren''t as scary. The fullness of our power never arrives until we know with certainty that it isn''t enough.


    Fearful Sage Doomed Amalthea rises up off the rooftops, floating like a feather blown by an updraft of power, and I feel as powerful as I ever have. She raises her staff into the air.


    "F-F???????? T??????!" I shriek, launching a bolt of lightning in her direction. Amalthea contemptuously swings her staff downwards, and my attack twists ninety degrees in the air to crash straight into the ground rather than strike her.


    "I hope you''re ready, Luna," Amalthea says. Luna? Who''s Luna? The pages of her book start to flip like they''ve been thrust into the wind, and she returns her staff up to point at the sky.


    "L??????????. A?????? M???????. G??? ?? T?????. S??????? F??????. I????? R???????. Ass???? A????."


    Magic surges out from Amalthea, gathering around the humanoid artifact in a swirling aura of green.


    "D????? B??????!" Amaterasu roars, leaping directly at Amalthea while her body is enveloped in a giant spear of light.


    "P????? B??????," Amathea retorts, bringing up a glimmering shield in front of Amaterasu that halts her in place. Amaterasu presses against it, the light surrounding her body glowing brighter and brighter as she starts to crack through the shield, but in the same breath as before Amalthea continues casting.


    "O?????????. E??? S????. I??????? B??????. M???????????? W???. F???? C????????. Q??? S????? S????."


    The last spell in that rapidly incanted flurry of magic summons four futuristic constructs, little more than flying laser cannons, that surround Amaterasu on all sides, preparing to fire.


    "Girls!" I shout an order, aiming a shot at two of the cannons to blast them out of the sky. Veritas leaps up into the air, blocking one of the other shots with her shield as Aurora directs one of her orbs to knock the final shot off course.


    "F???????? T??????!"


    My shot flies true, allowing Amaterasu to continue her attack, fractures splintering out from where her attack presses into Amathea''s shield. The wolf girl roars a battle cry, the magical energy she burns for thrust blazing ever brighter for a split second before the shield shatters, and all that power rushes directly towards Amalthea''s face.


    I have no idea what happens next. It feels as though the intervening moments were skipped. The seconds that should have passed between the artifact jumping up from the ground and it reaching Amaterasu did not occur. The multiple crashes that should have rung out as Amaterasu was launched through half a dozen walls all hit our ears as a single thunderous boom. The motion of the artifact''s fist connecting with Amaterasu''s jaw should have had a moment of windup, an arc to its swing, but all I see is the aftermath. The mechanical weapon''s form hangs in the air in a pose like it had already followed through. As if there was a punch, and not merely an instant transition to its consequences.


    Hey. Breathe.


    What?


    We need to breathe!


    I suck in a ragged gasp of air, and somehow survive doing so. Amalthea, unharmed by the attack that never reached her, extends her staff and places the tip on the artifact''s shoulder as if she were knighting it.


    "G?????? G??? ?? T?????."


    The artifact simply floats in the air between us, its thrusters keeping it aloft with strangely gentle flames.


    "How," I ask softly, before I can think better of it.


    Amalthea seems surprised, but neither she nor her artifact take advantage of my lack of focus to attack.


    "How what?" Amalthea asks.


    "How are you this strong?" I blurt. "How? What could someone as powerful as you have to be afraid of?"


    The look she gives me is full of many things. Anger, disgust, pity. But not fear. And yet¡­


    "You really are just a child," Amalthea says. "Is death the only thing you have to fear? Yours? Theirs?"


    She motions her staff vaguely in Aurora''s and Veritas'' direction, and indeed my terror spikes. She clearly feels it.


    "You can''t assemble a foundation of power on a fear that transient," she says. "Do you know what I''m afraid of? I''m afraid that the last six years I''ve lived in a lonely castle will be all I have for the rest of my life. I''m afraid that I''ll never be able to so much as walk in the sunlight again without being attacked by people like you. Let alone make another friend, or do any of the things that make me happy. I''m afraid that you mindless, indoctrinated children will keep destroying the only chances we have to find out what happened to the Antipathy until it''s too late to stop it from happening again! I''m afraid that I will have to have this conversation and fight this battle every single time I ever want to leave my house and I can''t live a life like that! I don''t want to fight anymore! Just leave me alone!"


    "A?????????: H?????? S????s?."


    Light. The ever-cloying darkness of the liminal space, a perpetual part of my life for the last decade, is banished. On the other side of multiple shattered buildings, Amaterasu rises from the crater her body made on impact with the earth, and with her, the sun. A brilliant ball of fire and light ascends above her head as she stands, rising above us all and turning night into day. Wounds scour off of her skin as the light hits them, hissing and smoking as if broken bones and torn flesh could be burned away like diseased wood.


    "Of course," Amalthea says, sounding halfway between annoyed and miserable. "Deal with her."


    The artifact rockets towards Amaterasu again, and Amalthea raises her staff to aim at the artificial sun.


    Stop her!


    I¡­ how?


    Who the fuck cares!? Quit freezing up and do something!


    We''re too far outclassed! Veritas and Aurora can''t handle an enemy like this, we have to retreat!


    You seriously think they''re the problem? They might be weak but at least they''re fucking fighting.


    What? Oh, no. How did I miss this? Veritas got knocked away after blocking that shot head-on, but her shield took all the real force and she''s about to leap back into the action. And both of Aurora''s orbs are converging on Amalthea as I stand here gaping like an idiot. But what can I do? I''m not strong enough, I''m not fast enough. I''m not even afraid enough. How am I supposed to fear the future if I can''t even imagine one that I might have?


    If you aren''t scared enough, get angry.


    Amalthea twists in the air, avoiding the first pass of Aurora''s weapons as blue energy engulfs Veritas'' lance. Her straightforward thrust is going to miss by a mile, but as the magic emits outward from the tip of her weapon, increasing its effective length, she adjusts the grip on her lance and swings it towards Amalthea like a club.


    That''s what we''ve been doing wrong. It''s the color of our damn stone. Castalia told us ages ago. Just green or just red isn''t enough. We have to use both.


    Except I can''t. How am I supposed to be angry? What am I supposed to be angry at? All I can feel is the terror, the certainty of our loss, the children about to die at my hands. I can''t be angry in this situation. I don''t know how.


    I do.


    But that doesn''t¡­ how could that¡­?


    You''re the one who said we don''t have time to worry about how crazy we are. You hear my thoughts, so you can feel my emotions. You know I''m pissed. I''m pissed at her for being better than me. I''m pissed at them for being reckless little shits who don''t know how to value their own lives. Most of all, I''m pissed at you for being a goddamn coward. So burn it, asshole.


    Feel it. Burn it. The emotions don''t feel like mine, but they''re still bubbling inside of me, the anger and the fear in tandem. The two tend to be considered opposing emotions, one usually overriding the other. Easily swapped between, but difficult to hold at once. At least, difficult for a single person.


    Amalthea seems caught off guard by Veritas'' wild swing, but still manages to avoid it by dropping altitude, her staff crackling with power as it prepares to end Amaterasu''s abreaction.


    "D?s?????? C?????!"


    Go.


    "T?????? S???!" I cast, teleporting to Amalthea''s side in a flash of lightning and kicking her in the arm with a burst of magic. Amalthea''s spell erupts from her weapon and crashes wildly into a building off to the side, completely off course.


    Lightning and thunder!


    "F??s?????!"


    The moment Amalthea turns to face me, her senses are overloaded in a crash of light and sound, an attack both cowardly and spiteful. Red and green flow through my fingertips, overlapping circles of color letting magic pour through my stone like a stream. It feels like stretching my shoulders after a month of not realizing they were stiff.


    Amalthea screams and reels back, my teammates taking the chance to throw more attacks her way. She''s powerful as hell, but her magic is support-focused. If Amaterasu keeps the artifact busy, she has no one else to buff. A thousand different things could still go wrong, of course. All this power is intoxicating, invigorating, but that''s all the more reason to be afraid. Arrogance has killed many. What if I overestimate myself? What if Amaterasu fails? What if this is the only time I''ll ever taste this power, and the rest of my life will be spent chasing it again? The fear churns, the fear grows.


    I can''t believe it took me this long to figure it out. It''s bullshit that I have to be some unique special case flailing around to try and determine how her own powers work while every other girl my age just did one thing and became strong enough to punch a skyscraper in half. I''m furious that Uma''tama doesn''t trust me enough to handle this on my own, that they went out of their way to call in some weirdo from Japan to pick up my shit for me. I''m even more furious that they were right. I can''t handle this on my own. Apparently, I don''t even get to have a brain to myself. The anger churns, the anger grows.


    The power is mine to shape, mine to control. I want something that defends, that protects my team from anything that might harm them.


    The power is mine to shape, mine to control. I want something that attacks, that destroys anything that dares to threaten me and mine.


    "C?????s?s: C???????? S????s????!"


    Our magic roars, and the world roars with it.


    - - -


    The wolf girl''s knife scrapes the edges of my shielding, magic sparking against magic as I barely dodge another thrust. I''m halfway tempted to take it head-on, but in my current circumstances there''s a fine line between being efficient and being wasteful.


    My power reserves are currently at 29%. My temporary power reserves have been reduced to 54%, dropping by approximately 1.24% per second before extraneous use.


    Layers and layers of active spells crackle across the surface of my frame, carefully and expertly bound together so that they do not interfere with me or each other. Two of them are little more than enormous clumps of green magic, feeding themselves into my systems already refined and prepared for use. The magic almost eagerly leaps into my shielding systems, Thea''s fear over my safety directly acting to protect me in any way it can.


    A dozen different subroutines click away in the back of my mind, measuring how long each enhancement Thea gave me has until it runs out. My body is lighter than my mass should allow, faster than my motors should be capable of, stronger than my systems have power. When my blows connect, they strike with a force far in excess of what physics would decree, and hit multiple times from what should be a single attack. I can fly, my thrusters no longer straining against my body''s inertia with each change in direction. And yet after only a few seconds of fighting this way, all my predictive algorithms have updated themselves accurately, taking in every scrap of data about every error and returning the solutions in moments. My empowered combat information suite sings with brutal precision, the only downside to it all being the speed at which it devours my body''s energy to run my mind fast enough to keep up.


    That, and fighting this way is almost fun, which makes it a little hard to feel sad.


    For once, I''m not even fighting a child. This crazy wolf girl looks closer to my age than not, and she has repeatedly attacked Thea despite multiple attempts to deescalate so she kind of has it coming! What the heck is up with the wolf ears and tail, anyway? They aren''t part of her outfit, they''re definitely part of her body. I thought Dark World corruption was the only way to get monster parts, so what''s her deal? I guess I could just be wrong. I really don''t know much of anything about how magical girl transformations work.


    She thrusts a dagger at me again, and I see the trajectory of the strike, all the movements I could take that would place me in an advantageous position. I knock the blow aside with a backhand to the flat of the blade, stepping in and landing a punch to her stomach with my other hand. The Earth Guardian crumples around my fist, vomiting on my front plating but managing to keep the presence of mind to try and pull away. I''ve already anticipated that she might, though. Vibrating my body to dislodge the puke, I speak in the only way I currently can.


    "[M ? ? ? B ? s ? ? ?]"


    Her eyes go wide as I pull out a spell, shooting her directly where my fist just connected to turn her lower rib area into one giant bruise. The blazing magical sun starts burning her injuries away, but the advantage is still mine. I know how quickly she can regenerate, and can predict how much more of it she has in her based on the magical readings from her spell. I''ll beat her before my assistance from Thea runs out, with time to spare.


    But of course, then the storm starts.


    My opponent and I are far from the rest of the battle. My initial strike, glutted with gifts of power, knocked the Earth Guardian quite a ways away and I''ve been harrying her to keep her separated from Thea ever since. This girl fights with incredible speed at extremely close range¡ªan obvious counter to Thea, whose spells focus on supporting from the back and attacking at range. I, meanwhile, can easily keep up with her speed when supported by Thea, and my hand-to-hand combat skills are borderline unfair. I''m sure Thea can handle three children on her own.


    And yet. A warm front of anger collides with a cold front of fear, swirling and thrashing around Minerva, growing larger, spreading farther. Clouds form above and around us as the winds pick up, trapping us inside a spiraling black cylinder of rain and wind and lightning. The world around us is still bright from the Earth Guardian''s artificial sun, making the hurricane crashing around us look quite incongruous, part of me thinking this couldn''t possibly be the middle of a storm. But as I try to kick my target, a burst of wind traveling hundreds of miles per hour blasts me off course, leaving my enemy untouched.


    That would be a problem all by itself, but then I get struck by lightning. Three times.


    My power reserves are currently at 30%. My temporary power reserves have been reduced to 34%, dropping by approximately 1.24% per second before extraneous use. Such as absorbing lightning bolts with my shields. Ow.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Suge! Nice, nice, Minerva!" my opponent cheers, immediately turning tail and rushing directly for Thea. "F??s? D????!"


    I try to cut her off, but another thrust of air keeps me on the ground as the wolf girl seems to turn into a thin beam of light, almost instantaneously halving the distance between herself and Thea before briefly materializing her full body and then doing it again. Thea snaps her giant tome shut, using it like a shield to block the first stab of the wolf girl''s dagger, but the Flash Dance kicks in again, letting the magical girl move right through Thea and attack from the opposite side.


    My mind churns with magical calculations, trying to form or copy a movement spell that could let me intercept, but Thea just swings her staff like a club, the crystal at the tip smashing into the Earth Guardian''s cheek the moment she reappears. I can see the bones break from here, but the wounds immediately start knitting themselves back together. Okay, new plan. I turn and aim at the artificial sun, charging glowing blue energy into my palm.


    "[M ? ? ? B ? s ? ? ?]"


    The wind batters me again but I''m braced for it, the slight jostle to my aim not enough to force my attack to miss the giant ball of flame. I detonate the construct, a wave of flame rushing over the battlefield, but the wolf girl just spits blood out of the side of her mouth and presses the assault again.


    For a split second, I zoom my sight in on the image of the blood falling through the storm. Separated from the main body, it quickly starts disintegrating into motes of orange magic.


    A lightning bolt crashes down from above Thea''s head. She tries to redirect it like she did with Minerva''s Fulminant Thunder, dropping a guiding trail of green magic into the ground for the bolt to follow. Fear is ever so prone to following the path of least resistance. Unfortunately, anger tends to follow only the path it sees ahead of itself, and the bolt strikes true. Thea screams.


    I have to help her. The new magical girl is an orange mage, and orange is need, anticipation, desire. I focus harder on that need to save Thea, let her scream ring out over and over at rapid speed in my mind, gather the magic, and speak the spell.


    "[F ? ? s ? D ? ? ? ?]"


    It''s costly¡ª


    My power reserves have been reduced to 26%. My temporary power reserves have been reduced to 11%, dropping by approximately 1.24% per second before extraneous use.


    ¡ªbut I ignore my sensors going haywire as they briefly cease to exist, teleporting twice along the same path the other girl took to end up right next to her, already swinging a punch.


    "S????? ?? T????!" Veritas shouts, and a blue barrier stylized to look like her shield pops into existence in front of me, taking the punch in place of my target.


    "?F????? A???????!" Aurora follows up, and suddenly the orange mage has a glowing aura of yellow that flickers like flame. A buff of her own, and mine are starting to run out. Another lightning bolt crashes through me, my extra energy reserves rapidly falling.


    "G??s? ??? E??!" Thea counters, fleshy tentacles pouring out from the pages of her book and reaching into small portals in the air. The other ends appear around the wolf girl, wrapping around her and holding her in place.


    "P???? B??s?!" Thea follows up, blasting everyone else away, myself included. She rises higher into the air, a shimmering shield protecting her from the wind and the rain. "Last chance to leave! I mean it!"


    The girl caught in her tendrils just roars like an animal, ripping herself free from the spell with brute strength.


    "Fine then," Thea growls. "A?????????: S???????? C?????."


    A beam of bright, sickly green falls from the sky like a god from heaven. It engulfs the adult magical girl even as she tries to dodge, the cylinder of death simply too wide to avoid before it connects. When the bright flash ends, it leaves behind a circular hole in the earth deep enough that from where I am I can''t tell if there''s an intact person at the bottom or not.


    The sound of thunder reaches my sensors, and Thea starts falling from the sky. What happened? Did she overuse¡­ no. It was Minerva''s storm. The moment Thea''s attack descended, the light disguised the bolts of electricity all converging on Thea''s position at once. My thrusters burn, but a gust of wind counteracts my attempt to reach her, and Veritas slams into me with her shield, knocking me into a building. I land on the wall feet-first and launch off of it to catch Thea, and Aurora''s orbs slam me back into the ground. Minerva carefully lines up a shot.


    "T??? F???????? T??????."


    Crack. Two bolts of lightning erupt side by side from the tip of Minerva''s staff, forming the slightest V shape as they separate from each other over the course of the journey. There''s an impact. Then thunder. Then silence.


    A lance holds the electric charge on its tip. I wonder at first if this is some new combination attack between Minerva and Veritas, but Veritas just hit me. She''s not over there, standing between Thea and everyone trying to hurt her. This lance is much longer, and it isn''t blue. It''s purple. Waves of dark energy bubble up from the tip, devouring the fear and anger of the lightning like a decadent meal.


    Melpomene floats in the air, her black wings spread wide like a falling angel. She holds her weapon with one arm while the other supports Thea, gripping her underneath the armpits and holding her tightly to Melpomene''s chest. Her three baleful eyes cast along the scene of the battle, though the middle stays tightly locked on Minerva.


    "I knew I ought to be concerned when we found your base completely empty," Melpomene says evenly, though her every breath carries such a heavy ooze of disgust I can see the purple mist wafting off of her without a single magical sensor. "You should count yourselves quite lucky that¡ª"


    Three bolts of lightning crash down from the clouds towards Melpomene, one after the other. Her lance arm flashes, intercepting each in a motion as instantaneous as the thunderbolts she''s catching. Again, the lightning is devoured, and when Melpomene levels the lance at Minerva again, a thick bolt of purple electricity is fired back at her. It hits Minerva dead in the chest, and I see the child crumple, thrown out of the sky like a doll to bounce and roll off the rooftops like a stone skipping across a river. The storm rumbling around us ends almost instantly, the clouds blown away in the wind.


    "Minerva!" Aurora shrieks, rushing towards the point that the child finally skidded to a stop as Veritas bravely interposes herself between Melpomene and the others.


    "...That I did not get here any later," Melpomene simply continues. "Tell me where Anath''s transformation stone is and I will consider letting you go."


    Thea''s incarnate transformation comes apart as she hangs limply in Melpomene''s grasp. Melpomene wraps her tail around herself, using it to lift Thea up and support her weight more comfortably. The magical girls, of course, do not answer.


    "Five," Melpomene growls, energy gathering at the tip of her lance again. Veritas braces against the ground, her shield still up. "Four. Three. Two. O¡ª"


    "Amaterasu has it!" Aurora shouts. "H-had it. She''s in the¡­ hole."


    "Aurora!" Veritas snaps at her angrily. Privately, I feel an intense relief. That was absolutely the correct move. Melpomene actually seems surprised that the girl answered her, but she floats above the pit and looks down to the bottom before lowering her weapon.


    Her third eye still watching the kids, Melpomene flies over to me, holding Thea out. Based on how carefully she clutches the girl, patting Thea''s head with her now-free hand, I''m honestly surprised she''s willing to let her go at all. But I suppose it''s probably safer to leave her with me than to take her down into the pit with a magical girl who could be playing possum.


    "Be gentle with her," Melpomene orders, and I hold out my arms to accept Thea in a bridal carry, carefully gathering the end of her tail between my fingers so it doesn''t scrape along the ground. Her small breaths are warm against my frame, her face scrunched up in stress even in sleep.


    My power reserves have increased to 27%.


    Swiftly floating over to the pit, Melpomene descends and returns back up holding an unconscious Asian girl by the back of her neck. Melpomene reaches her thumb and forefinger around either side of the girl''s face and a tiny spark of purple lightning flashes between them, passing through the girl. She wakes up with a pained yelp which quickly morphs into an agonized grimace as the injuries she sustained finally catch up with her.


    "Anath''s transformation stone, please," Melpomene glowers at her.


    "Itai," the girl groans in Japanese. ''It hurts,'' I think. Which¡­ yeah, I bet it does. Melpomene doesn''t seem to have much sympathy for her, wrapping her claws around the gem on the glove of the girl''s right hand.


    "Give me her stone," Melpomene says evenly, "or I destroy yours."


    That gets the girl''s attention, a look of abject horror and offense on her face like she just threatened something truly unspeakable. I guess maybe she did. In the end, though, the girl pulls out a familiar choker from somewhere and hands it to Melpomene. Sneering, Melpomene takes it and then throws the girl at Veritas, who has to quickly drop her weapons and catch the fully human projectile before she hits the ground and potentially breaks her neck.


    Melpomene returns to me, and I obediently lift Thea up to hand her back over. I don''t need to be ordered to know that''s what she wants from me here. Melpomene accepts Thea into her arms, holding her similarly but using her tail to secure Thea''s own, intertwining the two as they dangle above the ground together.


    "Come, Artifact," she orders. "We''re collecting what remains and heading home. Copy Thea''s carrying spell."


    My mind suddenly finds itself capable of doing just that, so I head over to where all our collected stuff fell to the ground as Thea fell unconscious, gathering it back up into the air. A coughing noise pierces the quiet behind us.


    "Minerva!" Aurora sighs with relief, enveloping her teammate into a hug. "Oh, thank goodness. I almost thought¡­"


    "Oh. You''re awake," Melpomene says before anyone else can respond. "I''m actually impressed. I didn''t think anyone your age could maintain an incarnate form after that."


    "What can I say," Minerva responds through gritted teeth. "I eat my vegetables."


    "Cute," Melpomene scowls at her. "Well. I suppose I''ll let you go, since you clearly have such a bright future ahead of you."


    "Better luck next time, huh?" Minerva asks, seemingly to herself. Melpomene stops at the words, though, leveling a gaze of such intent hatred that it nearly damages my shields from proximity alone.


    "Oh, no," she says evenly. "No, no, no. There won''t be a next time, dear. You get to live today, but if you ever hurt Thea again, I will murder you, carve open your heart, and keep your flesh as a trophy. Is that understood?"


    Silence.


    "I said is that understood!?" Melpomene roars, and the girls all quickly stammer a cacophony of yes''s and yes ma''ams. Melpomene just sneers at them and flies away, leaving me to collect the surviving artifacts and scrap.


    Well, great. What happens if they come after me now? Veritas and Aurora probably couldn''t beat me, but I doubt I could stop them from torching more of the other artifacts. Thankfully, they don''t come after me. I''m left to collect our spoils from the ground in peace as Veritas and Aurora focus on helping their wounded. That''s good, at least. I''m glad that they consider each other to be more important than the mission. Once I have everything gathered back up, I hop up on the disc alongside it and fly off in the direction Melpomene flew to make my way back to the portal holding our castle.


    The trip back isn''t particularly noteworthy. I manage to find my way through the mist and I barely succeed at fitting the disc through the double doors to the castle entrance. I figure I should probably drop all this stuff off in Thea''s room, so I head down there, finding Melpomene sitting on top of Thea''s blanket nest, stroking the unconscious girl''s hair. Thea''s head rests on Melpomene''s lap, and she looks a lot more comfortable than she did back in the liminal space.


    "Put all that in the next room over," Melpomene orders, not taking her eyes off of Thea. I nod and obey, unloading the artifacts into the storage room before returning. The two of them haven''t moved.


    Hmm.


    "Daughter otter," I declare. Melpomene''s head finally snaps up to look at me.


    "What?" she demands. I motion at the two of them.


    "Daughter otter," I affirm sagely. Melpomene gives me a pained look.


    "I told you already, I''m not her mother."


    No. You don''t get to step away from this.


    "She was twelve years old, Melpomene," I tell her flatly. "If you didn''t raise her, who did? Nanaya?"


    Melpomene''s initial response is a look of abject fury, but soon her expression twitches and falls. Her gaze drops back down to Thea''s sleeping form, the girl slowly curling around her lap.


    "How could I have ever acted like a mother to her?" Melpomene asks softly. "None of us even know what that''s like."


    I''ve been paying closer attention recently, so I feel it. The wave of disgust that rolls off of Melpomene''s body feels so very much like when she threatened to kill a child.


    "Oh my god," I realize. "You''re using her as a power source, aren''t you?"


    The glare she gives me is so full of unconstrained hate that I know if she hadn''t been holding Thea at that very moment she would have torn me limb from limb.


    "You would dare?" she hisses at me, but her reaction only makes me more confident that I''m right.


    "Yeah I would fucking dare," I tell her, trying to make it as clear as possible that I am sneering at her without a mouth. "Do you seriously think you can give me a speech about how much you want to hate yourself and expect me to not rub it in your face? I imagine it''s a big part of your power, isn''t it? Looking at her and knowing all the bright futures she could have had. All the friends she would have made. But no, because of you a wonderful girl like her is trapped in a medieval castle on a dead world and hasn''t spoken to more than four people in six fucking years."


    "And what would you have me do!?" Melpomene shouts at me. "Leave her with the Preservers, and let them grind her away into nothing but a weaponized blade? Take her stone, her magic? The only thing that might get them to leave her alone? I could never. Will never. Even if she asked me to, I couldn''t bring myself to do it."


    "Don''t act like you''re any better than them, slave-keeper," I snap at her. "I''m not here to make you feel better, remember? If you can''t figure out a way to avoid ruining her life, that''s still on you, isn''t it?"


    Melpomene shudders, her entire body coiling with hate.


    "Speak no more of this to me," she orders.


    Fine, then. Coward.


    "Yes, master," I deadpan. "You know I live only to serve."


    It''s a shame that Thea is still unconscious. It would have been great if I managed to get Melpomene ranting and she woke up in the middle of it. I would instantly be unable to say anything about this if I detected she was regaining consciousness, but if Melpomene walked into this problem herself? Well, it wouldn''t be my place to stop my master from yelling at me, now would it? Maybe another day.


    When the first teardrop falls on Thea''s head, my first reaction is surprise.


    It shouldn''t have been, should it? If the love for her wasn''t real, the hate for herself wouldn''t be anywhere near as strong. Melpomene sobs quietly as she holds onto Thea, frantically wiping her tears so no more fall on the other girl''s face, and my power reserves tick higher.


    "I''m sorry," she whispers. "I''m so sorry."


    I can only stand and watch, silent and motionless. I am physically incapable of interrupting this moment. I could never convince myself that it would be best for Melpomene if I intervened. So when I sense Nanaya and Anath returning to the castle, I silently step away and head upstairs to greet them.


    I am starting to get a sneaking suspicion that using magic might fuck people up a little. It''s hard not to notice that of the many different emotions baked into the nature of power in this world, most of them are not very pleasant. Joy is of course positive. Pride, arguably so. Need, want, desire¡­ that could go either way. But the rest? I hate being angry. I hate being afraid. No one wants to feel disgust, sadness, or hopelessness. And yet the majority of the emotional spectrum is linked to different ways to feel bad while only having one fully devoted to feeling good. And if you want to use that to cast with¡­ you still have to burn it. Still, being any other kind of mage but yellow seems like it has terrible long-term consequences.


    The front doors of the castle open, revealing Anath resting piggyback on Nanaya''s shoulders. Nanaya gives me a nod, quickly closing the double doors behind her.


    "The others?" she asks without preamble.


    "Downstairs," I answer. "Thea got hurt, so the two of them are having a bit of a moment."


    Nanaya nods in understanding.


    "I will head down for healing in a few minutes, then," she decides. "I think I will prepare some food first."


    Well, I don''t have anything better to do.


    "Want some help?" I ask.


    "Mmm."


    I guess I''ll take that as a yes. I follow the two of them to the kitchen, Nanaya helping a sore Anath down into a chair before moving to the cooking supplies.


    "The fourth one was trouble then, I take it?" she asks.


    Huh? Oh. The new magical girl.


    "Yes, she was very strong," I confirm. "Orange mage. Her spells are light-themed. I think one of the other girls called her Amaterasu? Thea and I managed to take her down, but with three other magical girls supporting her we got overwhelmed."


    "Mmm. If you took her down, then who took out Thea?" she asks.


    "One of the kids, actually," I say. "Minerva. The lightning mage. She summoned an enormous storm. Probably the biggest spell I''ve ever seen. It made the entire battlefield a pain to fight on."


    Nanaya frowns.


    "I never would have expected a child that young to be capable of such power," she admits.


    "''Cuz she''s not young!" Anath chimes in. "I finally figured it out when they were interrogating me! That''s Fulgy!"


    Nanaya raises an eyebrow at her.


    "Fulgora? Your crush?"


    "She''s not my crush, she''s my rival!" Anath insists loudly. "Anyway, yeah! I couldn''t believe it at first, but I totally felt it! She''s Fulgora somehow!"


    "It would explain why her stone is brown," Nanaya admits. "Red and green together. It raises so many more questions, though. Can her incarnate form shapeshift, or does she have two incarnate forms? If so, how could that be possible?


    "I''ll ask her next time I see her!" Anath says excitedly.


    "No," Nanaya says firmly. "No more going out alone. You aren''t strong enough for it, Anath."


    "All the more reason I should fight my rival!" Anath insists.


    "She''s got a point," I agree, earning myself a baleful glare from Nanaya and an excited grin from Anath. "If you guys are going to be a proper villain team, you do need at least one member who harasses the heroes and repeatedly loses to them every week. It''s only right."


    "Wh¡ªhey!" Anath protests, looking betrayed. Nanaya just snorts and hands me a cutting board with a knife and onions. Ooh. I bet I can dice these super fast now.


    "As amusing as the image may be, it would be greatly preferable if Anath were to actually win her fights. You can be sure that the both of you will be receiving substantially more training in the days to come."


    Anath groans dramatically as I finish chopping up both of the onions in the time it took Nanaya to say that. She wordlessly collects them and produces two red peppers for me to cut next. A large pot of water beside her is already boiling thanks to her magic. The onions go in.


    "Allowing yourself to be captured forced us to escalate, Anath," Nanaya admonishes her. "You can be certain the Preservers will escalate in kind. We have proven ourselves to be much more than the nuisances they have been treating us as. It is no longer enough for you to simply play with the girl you like."


    "Fiiine," Anath groans as Nanaya quickly adds more ingredients to the pot, including the now-diced peppers. Together, the two of us rapidly complete the preparation for Nanaya''s soup, which she leaves to boil as she washes her hands.


    "Do not let this overflow," Nanaya orders sternly. "I shall go ensure the others are alright."


    "You might want to announce yourself before entering," I suggest. "Melpomene will want a moment to compose herself."


    Nanaya gives me a look that I can''t quite decipher, but after a moment she nods.


    "Yes," she agrees. "I suppose she will."


    I turn to watch the pot, slowing down my processing speed so the meal cooks faster from my perspective. I never imagined I would find myself managing a pot of soup so soon after a desperate battle, but I guess this is my life now. I''m part of this weird little family, whether I like it or not.


    I don''t like it, of course. But I am getting used to it, and that might be just as worrying.

 21. Dissociation

    I lost.


    Finally, after so many years, I got my breakthrough. My Catharsis. And I still lost. I actually had hope for a bit there, you know? For a moment there, we were winning. But then Melpomene showed up, and¡­


    We couldn''t do a damn thing.


    We couldn''t do anything. She deflected our Catharsis without even speaking a single spell. How is power like that even possible?


    We''re doing something wrong. We have to be. There''s no way that all there is to it is just ''feeling more strongly.'' How are we supposed to feel more than what we felt today?


    I don''t know. I don''t want to think about it. I''m completely drained. Empty. I don''t think I could be afraid of anything if I tried.


    I guess that''s a Catharsis for you.


    "Minerva?" a nearby voice asks. Aurora. "Hey, Minerva, try to stay awake, okay? We''re almost back to base."


    Right. Because I apparently needed to add to my shame, Veritas and Aurora are carrying their defeated elders back in their arms. I''ve barely even been registering the movements as they jump from rooftop to rooftop; even after all her healing, I can hardly move. My incarnate form is completely spent. I''m only barely managing to maintain the transformation at all.


    The stars in the sky indicate we''ve passed back onto Earth, the occasional flash from the streetlights confirming it. Soon enough, the four of us drop into a familiar alleyway, heading through the wall and ending up somewhere pristinely white. The moment we make the transition, though, Aurora gasps in shock.


    With great effort, I manage to turn my head in the direction she''s facing. Though most of the portal room is untouched, the door to the rest of the base is a twisted mess of blackened material, still slightly smoldering. Rather than the rest of the base, the other side of the door leads only to a mess of shattered caverns, debris from what looks like a thorough bombing run scattered everywhere.


    An image flashes through my mind, the great beam of light descending from heaven, cutting through my clouds, and driving Amaterasu through a newly bored hole in the ground. That overwhelming power, that horror I felt as I realized my attempt to time my attack while my enemy was distracted may have caused a girl to die. Another one, by my hands. To a power so overwhelming I could never hope to catch up.


    Power, power, power. It always comes back to power! Why can''t I ever find enough!?


    "Holy crap," Veritas swears, jolting me out of my thoughts. Right, right, focus on the present. What happened? Is everyone okay? Is Uma''tama¡­


    "Uma''tama!" I croak. "Uma''tama, are you here?"


    Panic rushing through me, at least as much as I can manage in such an emotionally mangled state, I somehow send off a communication ping to try and find them. It hurts, my soul protesting on a deep level against the abuse. Thankfully, a familiar pop of joy heralds their safe arrival.


    "Minerva!" Uma''tama gasps, appearing before us. "Everyone! Thank goodness you''re alright! We feared the worst when the base fell under attack. We couldn''t get in contact with any of you! We''ve been lobbying for backup, but¡­ oh, it doesn''t matter. We''re so glad you''re safe."


    Uma''tama actually flies down and wraps their little paws around my shoulder in a quick hug. They do the same to Veritas and Aurora, though since Susan is asleep they don''t disturb her.


    "What happened?" I croak.


    "Two members of the Corrupted entered the base by using other Earth Guardians as hostages," Uma''tama says. "They used the fact that all of you were away to take Anath and destroy our base. The damage is¡­ extensive. It shouldn''t take us too long to repair everything, of course, but we are far more worried about the message this sends."


    "We aren''t safe here," I manage. "They want us to know that they can get us anywhere."


    "Possibly," Uma''tama nods. "Though considering that this attack came immediately after our acquisition of Anath, we think it is more likely to be a generalized threat. A warning to not attempt to take one of them again."


    "Same thing," I mumble. Gosh, this really hurts.


    "But enough of what happened here," Uma''tama insists. "This damage is all material. Inconsequential. What happened with all of you? Are you alright? You feel dangerously burnt out, Minerva."


    "She used a Catharsis!" Aurora chimes in. "It was awesome! I''ve never seen a spell that huge before!"


    "A Catharsis!?" Uma''tama gapes. "Minerva, that''s incredible, but you need to exit your incarnate form immediately!"


    "No," I grunt.


    "Minerva, please!"


    "I don''t¡­" I start, grimacing and glancing towards my team.


    "You don''t what?" Veritas suddenly snaps. "Why don''t you want to show us who you are? Aurora and I know each other''s secret identities. Don''t you trust us?"


    "Um, I don''t think it has to do with us," Aurora defends me, bless her heart.


    "Well, what is it then!?" Veritas insists. "We''ve been a team for ages now, and I barely know anything about you! You never talk to us unless it''s about missions or training. You never let us see you outside your incarnate form, but you''re barely even around in that! Do you just not like us or something!?


    "What!?" I say, startled. "Of course I like you! I care a lot about both of you!"


    "Yeah? What''s my favorite animal? What shows do I like? What foods do I like? Who''s my favorite Power Ranger!?"


    "Uh¡­"


    "Aurora knows all of that! Uma''tama knows all of that! But you don''t know anything about me. You never talk to me. Not unless you want to tell me I''m not any good at stabbing things."


    "Veritas, I¡­"


    "Who the heck are you, Minerva!?"


    It''s a good fucking question, isn''t it? Who the heck are we?


    What? I mean, we''re Eliza. Right?


    Are we? Are we really? Because I certainly wake up every day with everyone I know calling me Eliza, but I know my real name. No backing off from this halfway, yeah? You are Minerva, and I''m Fulgora. That''s how this works. That''s the only thing that makes sense.


    I¡­ I guess so, yeah. Yeah. You don''t have to say it. I see where you''re going with this.


    No, I want to hear you admit it. Enough is enough. We''re both thinking it, so quit running like a coward.


    But I am a¡­ no. Don''t give me that, you can''t blame this on me. You didn''t want to think about it either. We''ll say it together.


    Fine.


    There are two of us here.


    We know who we are.


    But if I''m Minerva, and you''re Fulgora¡­


    ¡­then where the hell is Eliza?


    "Could you put me down please, Aurora?" I ask.


    "O-Oh, sure, yeah," she agrees, easing me into a sitting position on the ground. Once I''m stable, I drop my incarnate form, light enveloping me and letting me grow back to my human body''s proportions. I''m still wearing the outfit I showed up to Chloe''s house in. I still have my gun in its holster. Something about that relaxes me a little, even in this weak body that doesn''t feel like my own.


    Yeah. That''s the thing, isn''t it? This doesn''t feel like my body. It hasn''t for a long time, has it? My human form is all muscle and bone, hairy in all sorts of uncomfortable places. Everything is so awkward, huge, and frail. It''s¡­ wrong.


    "You¡­ you''re old!" Veritas accuses. "Oh my gosh, is that why you''re so lame!?"


    "Wh¡ªhuh!?" I manage, staring at her.


    "Veritas!" Aurora says accusingly. "Don''t be mean! Besides, she''s Fulgora! I thought you said Fulgora was cool!"


    Ha! Suck it!


    No! Betrayed by my own team!


    "What!?" Veritas exclaims. "There''s no way she''s Fulgora! Fulgora is a red mage, not a¡­ brown¡­ mage. And, um, they''re two separate people¡­ who I''ve never seen in the same room together¡­ huh."


    Here, let me take control! I''m clearly better with kids!


    But I am a kid! Kind of! Maybe?


    We''re adults! Or we''re an adult, singular. Or at least we''re supposed to be!


    We are, at best, barely an adult. Now would you stop talking all the time!? It''s really distracting! You never did this before!


    I mean I assumed all of your thoughts were also my thoughts because I thought you didn''t exist. Same for you, right? You hardly ever chimed in when we were Fulgora. But now I know you aren''t me, and it''s like woah! All those dumb coward thoughts were actually some other bitch! What a relief!


    You¡ªgah! You really want to go there!? You pig-headed, thoughtless¡ª


    "...Minerva?" Uma''tama says, gently touching my shoulder.


    "Huh!?" I jolt.


    "Veritas asked you a question."


    "O-oh," I blurt. "Sorry, I''m really not, um, feeling my best right now. What did you¡­?"


    Veritas scowls at me, then takes a deep breath and sighs.


    "...Never mind," she grumbles, turning and walking off towards the teleporter.


    "W-what? Veritas¡ª"


    "I said never mind!" she snaps. "Just leave me alone!"


    "Wait!" I shout, and she stops. She doesn''t look back at me, though. "I¡­ I''m sorry. I''m sorry for being a bad leader. I''m doing my best, but¡­ you shouldn''t be stuck with someone like me."


    Veritas clenches her fists and glowers at me over her shoulder.


    "...You''re an idiot," she says, and then steps back on the platform to Earth, vanishing.


    Nice going.


    Oh, shut the heck up. If you know what I was supposed to say there, feel free to tell me.


    ¡­


    That''s what I thought.


    I knew we weren''t cut out for leading a team. I knew that. But you accepted. You made this commitment. I was against it from the start. I reserve every right to rub your face in how much we suck at it.


    You¡­ we¡­ I didn''t have a choice! I DIDN''T HAVE A CHOICE! Should I have left them to fend for themselves? To have no mentor at all? Castalia is gone! Everyone else is DEAD! How many times have we¡­ no, how many times have I saved their lives since this started? Huh? I''m trying! I''m freaking trying!


    And look where it''s gotten me! I''m literally insane now! I''m arguing with myself inside my own fucking head with someone who didn''t even EXIST until I made that stupid, STUPID decision! I shouldn''t be on a team. I shouldn''t be on a team! Yes, of COURSE they''d be better off without me, what the hell am I even saying? I know myself. I know who I am! I can''t be a leader! I can''t!


    But I have to!


    But I can''t!


    But I have to!


    BUT I CAN''T! I''m a failure! A coward! A weakling! Do you remember how much it hurt to say yes? To lie to Uma''tama''s face and tell them that I could do it? That I could help them? After everyone I''ve failed!?


    Of course I remember! But we didn''t have a choice! We didn''t! I won''t let people die because of me, and that''s exactly what refusing to lead them would have done!


    It''s what agreeing to lead them will do! And clearly, refusing to have the decency to remember that is what drove us insane, because there was certainly no Minerva living in my head until you said yes and DOOMED THOSE KIDS! Did you forget!? Did you forget how we ran and left our team to die!? You must have, because you even have the fucking audacity to use green magic again. Coward! Pathetic coward!


    SHUT UP! F-frick you! I''m tired of this! You want to call me a coward while you scream and whine and blame all your problems on me? Fine! You deal with them then! I''m done! I''m done doing anything anymore! You handle our mess if you''re so much freaking better at it!


    You think I''m fucking finished with you, Minerva!? I''ve got¡­ ugh. Oh, god. The ache feels different all of a sudden. My body is too small instead of too big, just as uncomfortable but in all the wrong ways. I''m so thin, so slow, so heavy. The world feels duller than it should, emptier, quieter. I just fought nearly to the death with a storm conjured from nothing but my will. I shouldn''t be this weak. Why does this all feel so wrong!?


    "Eliza," Uma''tama says loudly. I gasp, jolting with tension. When did she hover so close?


    "What? Wh¡­?" I manage, looking around. Still in the teleporter room. Of course I am. Why wouldn''t I be?


    "Eliza, you need some rest," Uma''tama says firmly. "We''re putting you on mandatory leave. For real this time."


    "What?" I ask. "But¡­ but there''s no one¡­"


    "If an emergency happens, we''ll call Castalia," Uma''tama answers, and my heart drops into my stomach. "She''s already given her blessing."


    "I¡­ no," I insist. "You can''t do that."


    "Eliza, please, this isn''t a punishment," Uma''tama insists sadly. "We admit that we are¡­ not the best at understanding what you need. What any of you need. But you need something, and the most valuable thing we can offer is time. Rest, Eliza. Please."


    "I¡­ I can''t," I say. "Uma, they destroyed us. I have to get stronger. I have to find a way to beat them!"


    For the second time today, Uma''tama wraps me up in a hug. It''s warm.


    "You will," they say firmly. "You will, Eliza. We believe in you, and we are so, so proud of you. But for now, rest. Please."


    Fuck, now I''m crying. Damn it. I give Uma''s little body a hug back. They''re so soft.


    "I thought I told you to call me Fulgora when we''re in the base," I mumble.


    "...Of course," they agree softly. "Go take a break, Fulgora. Aurora, will you help me with Su-san?"


    "I¡­! I''m not really sure what else I can do," Aurora squeaks. "She should be okay, I think, but she needs rest, too."


    "She does, yes," Uma''tama nods. "But unfortunately the beds here have been destroyed. Would it be possible for her to stay with your family for the time being?"


    "Oh! Um, yes! Probably!" Aurora nods vigorously. "I mean, I''ll have to ask my mom and dad, but¡­ yeah, I''m sure they''ll be willing to help. She can take my big sister''s bed or something. I''ll take her home now!"


    "Thank you, dear," Uma''tama nods. "And¡­ you should probably head home too, alright Fulgora? Are you able to walk?"


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    "I¡­ yeah," I insist, not actually knowing the answer. Shakily, I rise to my feet. Okay. So I can walk. That''s good. Minerva''s mangled, patch-healed body aches with every step, but as always my human form isn''t actually injured. I can take it. "I guess¡­ I''ll see you later?"


    "Of course," Uma''tama assures me. "And feel free to call me up and chat any time you like."


    I nod vacantly, barely hearing what they said.


    "I''ll¡­ yeah. Okay."


    Walking out of what little is left of our base, I stare up at the stars, wondering what time it is. It slips away a bit in the liminal space, especially when I get my ass kicked hard enough to end up barely conscious. Is it ten? Twelve? One in the morning? I could just check my phone, but I don''t have the energy. I guess¡­ I should just head home?


    The walk is oddly tiring. When was the last time I ate? Oh yeah. Chloe''s house. That was¡­ nice. I''m kind of in a bad part of town, aren''t I? I should probably pay more attention to where I''m going. God, I''m so tired.


    Now imagine feeling like that while getting constantly yelled at by a voice in your head.


    Oh. Hey, Minerva.


    Hi.


    Can we not do this? I want to go back to not thinking about it. Just for a while.


    Okay.


    I hate this. This only happens to people that are crazy, doesn''t it? But I finally got my Catharsis out of it. Still, Uma''tama might bench me for longer if they find out. Like, this isn''t normal, right? This is bad. Really bad. I''m literally talking to myself.


    You said you weren''t going to think about it.


    Right. Yeah. Of course. I''ll just think about¡­ something else.


    I flinch as a scream suddenly rings out through the night, the bump of adrenaline starting up the grinding gears of my body that had been desperately attempting to shut down. Well. That''s something else to think about. A monster attack? Here? Some monsters do manage to hide on Earth for a while and pick people off. I run towards the sound, ignoring my protesting body as best I can. I haven''t felt this weak in years.


    "¡ªsaid quiet!" a man shouts, and I turn around the alleyway to spot a human holding a gun to another human''s head. What? Oh. Right, I mean, obviously that''s the situation. I was just thinking about that, wasn''t I?


    "Shit!" he hisses when I step into view, and immediately he turns to aim the gun at me. That''s good. Now the woman can¡­ oh. She''s not moving. Plus I''m in human form, so I could actually die here.


    ¡­


    I''m¡­ in human form. So I could actually die here. Huh. I thought I''d care more about that than I do.


    "The fuck are you looking at!?" the man snaps. "Are you high or something? Get out of here before I blow your brains out!"


    He''s wearing a big sock over his head. One of the robber socks. Balaclavas? Man, this is so¡­ generic. I''ve stopped a few robberies before, of course. It''s not common, but there''s a good chunk of crime here so it happens. Stopping a mugging isn''t really intervening in local politics, so Uma''tama doesn''t mind.


    I start to walk towards him. Why not? I''m not a coward, that''s just the stupid voice in my head. He waves the gun in my direction and I raise one hand, tracking the aim of the barrel. I''m not really sure why. What do I expect to do, catch a bullet?


    "Shit!" the man swears as I step towards him, and a shot rings out. I guess that was kind of stupid of me, huh? I''m used to loud noises exploding next to my ears, of course, so I don''t flinch. An intense pain blooms in my palm, and I stop to look at it. The bullet is there, lodged right in the middle between two metacarpals, blood weeping from the wound.


    "Huh, look at that," I say idly. "I did catch it."


    What is the matter with you!? Pay attention!


    The next shot hits me in the shoulder.


    "Ow," I say.


    Freaking punch him or something!!!


    A shot of fear suddenly floods me, and I move on instinct, ducking the next shot and ramming my fist into the man''s chest with my injured hand. I feel his ribs shatter under the hit and he crumples, dropping the gun. Shit. I might have caused a bone to pierce his lungs. I''ve never really fought a baseline human before.


    "I guess I should call an ambulance?" I mutter to myself.


    Check on the woman!


    Oh! Right. Her. I look up and see her already dialing nine one one. Okay. Cool.


    "You good?" I ask her.


    Get the gun, dummy!


    I''m doing it, I''m doing it. I lean down and quickly unchamber the round in his dinky little pistol. Now I own two guns. Neat.


    "I¡­ thank you, oh my god, are you okay?" the woman asks.


    "I''m fine," I insist, ignoring the ache in my shoulder and the blood dripping from between my fingers. "He won''t be able to move, I think."


    A pained whimper from the perpetrator is our only response. I turn to walk away.


    "W-wait!" the woman shouts. "You need¡­ at least wait for the ambulance!"


    I ignore her and depart, my head swimming with adrenaline, pain, and exhaustion. Gosh we should probably actually go to a hospital. Right? We got shot twice. Twice! But if I do that, they''re going to wonder why I took the gun, and why I have another gun that legally isn''t mine. The doctors are going to be confused about why it''s so hard to put the IV in my skin, and I''ll have to explain to them that I''m a magical girl, and then my brother will have to come to the emergency room and pay them thousands of dollars we don''t have for the courtesy of patching up a wound I can probably just sleep off. Maybe. Hopefully. I guess I don''t really know. I''m tired, though, so I''m going to find out.


    I wander in the general direction of my house, ignoring the sirens and the flashing lights of the passing emergency services vehicles. I hope everything works out for that lady. I also hope I never meet her again. Soon enough, I find my aching legs walking up my family''s driveway, heading towards the entrance to our cramped, one-story home. I blink and take a few steps back. It''s late, right?


    It is. It''s really late. My brother''s room light is off. He''s asleep. I don''t want to wake him. And¡­ I don''t think I have my key.


    Whatever. Whatever, it''s fine. I''m fine. I walk up to the front door, confirm it''s locked, rummage through my pockets, and ultimately decide to just¡­ sit down. I''m done, I think. I''m completely done with today. I lean back next to the door and close my eyes.


    "Hey, Minerva?" I mumble out loud.


    Yeah?


    "What if this is Eliza?"


    The voice in my head¡­ no, she''s more than a voice. The thoughts, feelings, sensations, and opinions that mix with my own yet feel distinctly separate go still for a moment. Like she wants to say ''what do you mean,'' but she knows what I mean. She''s me. She hears my thoughts, feels my emotions. Just like I do hers.


    This¡­ emotionless exhaustion?


    "Yeah. I mean, who even is Eliza? What does she do?"


    What''s her favorite animal? What foods does she like? Who''s her favorite Power Ranger?


    "Heh," I laugh, which turns out to be a painful mistake. Should I get these bullets out of my body? That would just make them bleed more, right? I''m so fucking tired.


    We probably shouldn''t fall asleep.


    "Yeah," I agree. "''Prolly shouldn''t talk to you out loud, either."


    Can you imagine how concerned everyone would be if they heard you? Freaks me out just thinking about it.


    "Oh yeah, they''d be insufferable," I say, stifling a yawn. "It''s kinda chilly out."


    It''s nice.


    "Yeah."


    The cool night breeze is a balm on the sharp, pulsing pain of my hand and the sweat on my forehead. I can feel myself drifting off, but I can''t remember why I thought I shouldn''t.


    ¡­


    "Holy fuck! Eliza!?"


    "Uagh!" I yelp, a searing pain rushing through my entire body as I make the mistake of moving. Sunlight blinds me, the glare just peeking over the horizon to the east.


    "Why are you sleeping on the porch!?" my brother demands, dressed in his uniform for the pet shop. "Wait, is that blood!?"


    "G''morning, Jim," I mutter, my mouth feeling puffy and dry.


    "Oh my god, Eliza, what the hell happened!? C-come inside, come on! Shit, shit, where''s the first aid kit¡­"


    He leans down and pulls me up by my uninjured shoulder, leaving me disoriented, confused, and in pain. So¡­ a pretty normal morning, I guess, except for waking up on the porch. What the hell did happen? I¡­ oh. Oh, right.


    "I stopped a mugging," I say, my words slurring a little for some reason.


    "Eliza, you look like you were the victim of a mugging," Jim panics.


    "Nah," I reassure him. "I caught the bullet. Still holding it! See?"


    I hold up my injured hand, the shaped metal still barely visible behind the dry scab. It doesn''t seem to reassure my brother at all, which seems unfair. Catching a bullet is pretty cool, I think.


    "You got shot!? The bullets are still inside of you!?" my brother practically shrieks. He''s such a worrywart. I love him. "Okay, that''s¡­ I don''t know how to handle that. Oh god. Oh god, okay. Wait. Hand me your phone."


    "No," I pout. "You just want all my embarrassing selfies."


    "Do¡­ do you even have any?"


    "No but you''d want them if I did."


    "Oh my god, Eliza, just¡­"


    He sits me back down on the floor and starts rummaging through my pockets in spite of my protests. He finds the gun ("Why the hell do you¡­ no, dealing with it later. One insanity at a time, that''s how we manage this.") and then my phone, which he quickly unlocks and starts rummaging through my contacts. I probably shouldn''t have set the password to 1234.


    "Okay. Okay, here," he mutters to himself, putting the phone to his ear as it starts ringing. I immediately recognize the voice that picks up¡ªeven without the phone being on speaker, I can hear it well enough.


    "Thank¡ª"


    "Uma''tama! This is Jim, I¡ª"


    "¡ªyou for contacting us through the Earth cellular phone network service. I am not connected¡ª"


    "Fuck!" Jim swears, hanging up and scrolling through the contacts some more.


    "Hehehe," I chuckle. "Uma''s really busy lately. I wonder what they''ve been up to."


    "God," Jim mutters, ignoring me. "Who do I¡­ shit. Okay. Here we go."


    He dials another number. It picks up on the fourth ring, and the voice on the other end scares me stiff.


    "Hello¡­?" Castalia answers groggily.


    "W-wait, Jim, you don''t¡­" I start to babble, but he just puts his hand over my mouth and starts talking.


    "Hi. Um. Castalia? I''m¡­ Fulgora''s brother. This morning I found my sister sleeping on our porch with two half-healed bullet wounds. She''s not transformed. I don''t¡­ I just didn''t know what to do, and I saw you in her contacts, and¡ª"


    "What''s your address?" Castalia interrupts him.


    "Uh? Um¡­" Jim stammers, but he manages to tell the most powerful magical girl in the world where we live. No, no, no, don''t bother her with this, why are you making this out to be such a big deal!?


    "I''ll be there in a few minutes," Castalia says simply, and hangs up on him. Jim finally takes his hand off of my mouth.


    "Whyyyyy?" I groan.


    "Just¡­ just lie down, okay Eliza?" he asks. Bah. I can''t say no to him when he''s this earnest. He brings me a pillow and I lie down on our kitchen floor, shutting my eyes. The next thing I know, I''m jolting awake to the sound of a door unlocking and opening.


    "Huh?" Jim says, turning towards the sound. "Castalia? Wait, how did you¡ª"


    Castalia flies past my brother as he gets up to talk to her, leaning down to stare at me. I can''t stop a blush of shame from crawling over my face, the miserable feeling of bothering her seeming so much worse than the pain.


    "Sorry," I mumble. "I''m so sorry for this. I tried to stop my brother from calling you, but¡ª"


    "It''s fine," Castalia says, cutting me off. She stares intently at me, magic churning through the air, and a good chunk of my clothing suddenly glows gold and vanishes, leaving me wearing pants and a bra. Sticky red gunk covers my shoulder, the uncleaned wound either partially reopened or having never fully healed.


    "You shouldn''t have to¡ª" I try again, but once again I am cut off.


    "When I say something is fine," Castalia says evenly, "I mean it."


    The feeling of shame only increases, as does my need to apologize.


    "But you''re retired!" I insist, ignoring the pain in my shoulder multiplying as Castalia telekinetically grasps the bullet.


    "¡­Did you think," she says slowly, something almost like sadness briefly touching her expression, "that asking to retire meant I no longer wished to help you? Did you think I wouldn''t want to be there if someone got hurt? I''m sorry. For whatever I have done to give that impression, I can only apologize."


    Any words I might have said are swallowed by a gasp of pain as Castalia yanks the bullet free. Blood pours freely once more, but Castalia''s magic catches it and holds it in place more firmly than any bandage.


    "Uma''tama told me you formed your Catharsis," Castalia comments, moving her attention to my hand. "Congratulations. I think, given the confusion after the battle, they may have forgotten to check you for burnout."


    "I''m not burnt out, I''m fine," I insist.


    "Then please explain to me why you engaged an armed gunman outside of your incarnate form," Castalia says flatly, "because I cannot think of any other reason."


    I try to remember why I did that, but I''m honestly not sure I had any reason at all.


    "I just feel awful about you filling in for me," I mutter. "Things are way too hectic right now for me to be taking a break."


    "Please don''t worry about it. Honestly, I may have temporarily returned to duty even if Uma''tama wasn''t forcing you to rest. I think¡­ I might be the reason things have been so difficult for this town."


    I grit my teeth as Castalia pulls the second bullet out, yet another spell sinking over my flesh to keep my blood in my body.


    "What do you mean?" I ask.


    "Hunger seeks power," Castalia answers. "Monsters tend to go after Earth Guardians when they have the option to. They seek sources of magical energy. I think the fragments of the Dark World themselves do the same. There are more convergences here than there should be. I am the likely cause."


    "No, Castalia, no way," I insist. "I mean, the more likely culprit is obviously the Corrupted, right? Whatever they''re doing to stay attached to this part of the world is probably drawing in the extra fragments, not you."


    "Maybe," Castalia admits. "But even in that situation, I can''t think of any reason they would choose to specifically stay here if not me. And now that Melpomene is attacking Earth Guardians¡­ I have to be ready to stop her."


    "Because no one else is strong enough?" I ask bitterly.


    "No. Because she used to be a member of my team."


    Oh. I guess that makes a certain kind of sense. I already knew that the Corrupted were all once Earth Guardians, but I didn''t actually know another member of Castalia''s team was still alive.


    "What happened?" I ask.


    "She was our blue mage," Castalia says. "I was a green mage back then. And¡­ Thalia was our yellow mage. The three of us were¡­ very, very close friends."


    There''s a pause.


    "Melpomene¡­ didn''t take Thalia''s death well. I guess I didn''t either. I''m not very good with people, but I should have at least noticed how bad things had gotten for her. Things probably would have been different, if I had just been paying a bit more attention."


    I try to experimentally flex my fingers, but Castalia quickly locks my hand in place. No moving, got it.


    "Different how?"


    I feel bad for prying, but Castalia doesn''t really talk much. This seems like a rare moment.


    "Maybe we''d still be a team," Castalia answers. "Maybe we''d still be fighting monsters together. Doing it alone is¡­ hard. But doing it with others was harder, after we lost her. I''m sure you know that."


    Yeah. I do. When you fight alone, you don''t have to worry about anyone else dying, just yourself. It''s immeasurably less stressful. Not to mention the thought of joining a new team, after losing my old one¡­ I really did hate the idea, for so many different reasons.


    "Melpomene fell deeper and deeper into her research," Castalia continues. "Research she wasn''t allowed to do. But she would sneak away into Dark World fragments when she thought no one was paying attention, learning all she could about the Antipathy ruins there. She always loved archeology, anthropology, things like that. Even when we were little. She told me she was going to grow up to be Indiana Jones. From the first time we saw remnants of the Antipathy, she was enraptured. But of course, the Preservers forbid unsanctioned Dark World excursions."


    "Because of the corruption," I prompt, and she nods.


    "Melpomene¡­ changed. Not just physically. I thought she was grieving, but as time passed her hatred of the Preservers only grew. I didn''t understand why she cared so much, why she insisted on breaking the rules over and over again. But I didn''t really do anything. I didn''t talk to her about it. So when the Preservers suddenly gave us the order to track her down and take her in, she didn''t talk to me about it, either. She didn''t trust me. She took some other girl I barely knew, and left. I still haven''t spoken a word to her since. I''ve just¡­ been hoping that she''ll show up one day. I didn''t think it would be like this."


    She looks up at my brother, who has been awkwardly standing off to one side.


    "Sorry," she says. "I''ve been a little rude. I got a bit worked up when I heard your sister was injured. It''s nice to meet you. Do you have any bandages we could use?"


    "Uh, y-yeah, I''ll go grab them. And it''s okay, I got a bit worked up myself."


    Castalia nods, and I feel myself being lifted off the ground.


    "I am glad she has such a good family," she says, the tiniest of smiles on her face.


    "I do my best," Jim shrugs. "Although, er, if I''m being honest I kind of expected you to just magic her back together somehow. I guess, uh, that was pretty stupid of me."


    He clearly tries and fails not to stare at her stump arm as he says those words, but as always Castalia doesn''t look fazed.


    "Unfortunately, only Thalia ever managed that," she says. "I''m afraid I''m still only learning from her."


    "The Corrupted red mage managed it," I blurt before thinking better of it. Castalia''s eyes fractionally widen, and she turns to stare at me.


    "Really?" she asks.


    "I saw her do it," I confirm.


    Castalia is quiet as she carries me over to one of our couches and lays me down, accepting the bandages from Jim.


    "...That''s wonderful," she eventually whispers, her voice soft like she expects it to break something. I say nothing else while she finishes dressing my wounds, magically peeling the dried blood off my body before tying everything up in pristine white gauze. The spell she''s using to hold my blood in still hasn''t broken, and I suspect she might intend to stay here until everything clots and scabs safely shut.


    "I''ll be okay," I promise her. "You don''t need to waste your whole day here with me."


    "I didn''t really have any plans," Castalia answers, back to her usual toneless voice. "I think I don''t like summer. There''s¡­ nothing to do. I want to go back to school."


    "Oh," I say. Yeah, I can get that. I can''t imagine what retiring must be like. All that free time¡­ it seems awful. "Summer school is a thing, right?"


    "I''ll definitely sign up next year," she nods.


    Jim clears his throat, causing both of us to look his way.


    "Okay, uh, I just called out of work," he says. "Boss is giving me PTO. She''s the best. Um. Have either of you had breakfast? It sounded like I might have woken you up early, Castalia."


    "Oh," Castalia blinks. "You don''t have to. I don''t want to impose."


    "You¡­ Impose? What?" Jim gapes at her. "You just flew halfway across the city to do first aid on my sister''s bullet wounds. Do you have any allergies or anything? Because if not I''m making you pancakes."


    Castalia pauses, then inclines her head.


    "I like pancakes," she says. "Thank you."


    "No, thank you," Jim says. "Seriously. Eliza, you thank her too!"


    "Oh! Uh, yeah," I manage. "Thanks, Castalia. Really."


    "I was happy to help," she assures me. "I am glad that you are okay."


    We descend back into an awkward silence as Jim starts heating up a skillet and mixing together various ingredients. I, personally, have absolutely no idea how to cook, but Jim does a pretty good job. I really like living with my brother, honestly. He can be a bit overbearing sometimes, but he''s always been there when I needed him. Like today. As a bit more of the fog clears from my mind, I start to latch on to the fact that he probably just saved my life.


    Because I''m not strong enough. I''m never strong enough.


    But Castalia said she was bored, right?


    The thought hits me like a bolt of lightning on a clear day. I¡­ can I really ask¡­?


    Do it. She''s not that scary after all.


    "Hey, uh, Castalia?" I pipe up.


    "Yes?"


    "You said you were struggling to find things to do, right? Would you be willing to¡­ train me, maybe? At least until the end of summer?"


    Castalia blinks, and then takes a moment to think about it. Holy crap, she''s actually thinking about it!


    "No," Castalia answers, and the hopes I''ve been building burst immediately.


    "Oh, uh, right, of course not," I manage. "Sorry."


    She nods.


    "I can''t train you," she confirms. "You have been ordered to rest. Come see me in a week. I''ll train you then."


    The emotional whiplash hits me so hard it hurts my aching soul.


    "R-really!?" I gape. "You mean it? You''d do that!?"


    She nods, and my heart soars. Yes! Yes! Finally, a way forward!


    "I should warn you," she says. "I am not¡­ the best at explaining things. I don''t know if I will be a very good teacher."


    "That''s okay!" I assure her. "Really! Thank you so much, Castalia!"


    "Only if you rest all week, though," she insists.


    "Of course I''ll¡ª"


    "I will check with your brother," she threatens.


    I wince. Damn.


    "I won''t let her move from that couch!" Jim chimes in, sounding like he means it. Double damn. What the hell am I going to do with an entire week''s worth of time? Oh, well. At least I have something to look forward to at the end of it. That''s new.


    I kinda like the feeling.

 22. Heading North

    I feel like, at least personally speaking, if I had stolen someone''s agency and forced them into servitude to my will via methods I don''t even particularly understand, I probably wouldn''t let them stand next to me while I sleep. It just seems like a stupid idea to leave yourself vulnerable and guarded only by someone who hates you. The fact that this strategy has been working out for Melpomene anyway makes it all the more annoying. I guess she just has that much faith in the ability of the Antipathy to screw somebody over.


    It''s not a huge deal, at the end of the day. My ability to control my own perception of time means I never have to worry about getting bored (at least not from waiting around and doing nothing). It''s just that I would very much prefer to be doing something! I no longer need to sleep, my executive function issues are cured, and so I could hypothetically be using this time to do just about anything so long as it doesn''t conflict with Melpomene''s orders. I could be sparring with Anath, hanging out with Thea, or maybe even exploring our local fragment of the Dark World. But no, I''m stuck here watching a draconic demon queen sleep in the nude.


    I suppose there was a period in my life where I would have considered this an optimal use of my time, but even if it hadn''t gotten old after the first few hours, I honestly don''t want to be attracted to a woman whom I hate this much. I will have to regretfully inform my internet friends that servitude to a hot crazy lady is significantly sexier in theory than in practice. Attraction doesn''t do me any good outside of being a very inefficient fuel source anyway. What am I even going to do if I get horny? Masturbate with the genitals and privacy I don''t actually have?


    As inefficient as it is, though, I am burning all of my attraction as fuel, if for no other reason than the fact that I am very, very low on it. Ever since that big fight with the magical girls, my energy¡ª


    My power reserves are currently at 22%.


    ¡ªyes, thank you, my energy has been steadily dropping. No matter what I do, no matter which memories I try to relive, it just isn''t as effective as emotions generated naturally in the moment. Unfortunately, I can''t really generate any strong emotions when I have absolutely nothing to do.


    And that''s the funny thing: you''d think that, as a robot, the more I do stuff the more power I would use. And that is true, but unlike most robots I am not powered by an electrical battery or some other ever-dwindling fuel source. I am powered by my own soul, and the things my soul feels, and it''s really hard to feel much of anything when I''m just waiting around, chatting with people, or sparring a bit. Yes, real combat is the biggest drain I have on my energy reserves, but it''s also the biggest gain. If I want to stop running out of power, I need to put myself in situations that are as emotionally impactful as combat but not as draining. And while previously I was accomplishing that due the stress of, y''know, being turned into a motherfucking slave robot, that unfortunate reality has somehow lost a little bit of its luster. Maybe I should piss Melpomene off enough to get her to start beating the crap out of me again. That might work.


    ¡­Oh no. I''m becoming codependent.


    That terrifying realization only manages to fill my reserves a little bit before a thunderous explosion rings out, shaking the walls of the castle. My mind flicks into overdrive, calculating the origin point of the noise as Melpomene shoots up out of bed, her wild eyes staring at me as if she expected me to be the source of the disturbance. Unfortunately, the real answer is far worse.


    "That came from Thea''s lab," I report.


    "Damn it!" Melpomene swears, leaping out of bed and summoning clothes onto her body before unlocking the door and rushing down the hall. I follow her, doing calculations on the structural integrity of the castle (it''s fine) and determining the likely force of the explosion to have caused a blastwave like that (substantially less than some of the spells Thea hit people with a week ago, so hopefully she''s fine too). Soon enough, we rush down the stairs and burst into the lab; inside, we find a sheepish-looking Thea staring at a hole in one of her walls leading to the adjacent room.


    "Thea!" Melpomene shouts. "Are you alright?"


    "WHAT!?" Thea asks loudly.


    "Oh my god," Melpomene mutters to herself, grabbing Thea and quickly checking her over for injuries.


    "OH!" Thea says, squirming a bit as Melpomene grabs all over her. "HAHA! DON''T WORRY, I''M FINE! I THINK I JUST HURT MY EARS A LITTLE! BUT HEY, GUESS WHAT! I FOUND OUT WHAT SOME OF THESE ARTIFACTS DO!"


    Nanaya and Anath rush into the room at this point, Melpomene practically pushing Thea in Nanaya''s direction. The red mage heals her without a word.


    "Oh! Thanks! Anyway, check this out¡ª"


    "Thea," Nanaya admonishes. "You punched a hole in part of the castle."


    "Yeah, that''s crazy, right?" Thea beams. "The stone this place is made out of is super durable. I''m so curious to learn how the Antipathy made these cartridges."


    "Cartridges?" Melpomene prompts.


    "Yeah! Those Stormbreaker thingies we picked up. They''re cases full of ammunition, basically. I mean, I guess ''cartridge'' isn''t really an accurate term, since they aren''t bullets. I guess they''re like¡­ vials? Check it out!"


    Thea heads over to one of the thin boxes we grabbed from the Antipathy ruins, this one dismantled on her worktable. The inside of it is full of what looks like small glass tubes, each filled with a deep red liquid.


    "Is that¡­" Nanaya asks.


    "Hyperconcentrated red magic, yeah," Thea nods. "And I mean hyperconcentrated. If you crack one of these puppies it''ll all burst out and disperse into the atmosphere fast enough to make a shockwave. But yeah, this end here deploys a little injector port¡ªoh, maybe that''s what we should call them, injectors¡ªand you stick it into one of the guns, and then the gun shoots murder death lasers. You know, Antipathy stuff."


    One of my memory-trawling subroutines pings me, having found a relevant association. I know what these are. I even have an intake port.


    "No need to workshop new names, I recognize these things," I announce. "In English, the acronym would be LCI¡ªLiquid Cardinal Injector. They''re designed for both mechanical and personal use."


    "Personal use?" Thea repeats. "What, like injecting one of these into your own bloodstream or something? That sounds like a terrible idea!"


    "It probably is," I agree. "I''m under the impression that wouldn''t stop the Antipathy, though."


    "¡­True enough," Thea admits.


    "I could see it working for an incarnate form," Melpomene hums. "They''re as magical as they are biological. A direct influx of power like that could probably be used in a spell without too much negative consequence."


    "Shouldn''t magic in that kind of concentration turn to crystal?" Nanaya frowns.


    "Yes!" Thea nods. "Normally. I''m not sure how they prevented crystal formation here¡ªmy best guess is that nothing in the tube was capable of acting as a seed¡ªbut the end result is even more space-efficient than crystal storage, if dramatically more volatile."


    "And you have a weapon capable of fielding this ammunition?" Nanaya prompts, staring at the hole in the wall.


    "Oh yeah, several. All but the one are still fixer-uppers, but I''m sure I can get them working in no time!"


    "It is terribly ironic and terribly infuriating that despite all the effort the Earth Guardians went through to stop us from getting our hands on dangerous artifacts, they somehow managed to destroy all the cultural data and leave us only with the guns," Melpomene scowls.


    "Uuugh, I know!" Thea groans. "I was really looking forward to having some Antipathy TV shows to watch!"


    Yeah, and I was really looking forward to actually having something to do. The data in the one tablet I interfaced with is all too corrupted for me to repair, but I probably could have repaired it if I had all those other tablets, presumably with similar data structures and copies of the installed files. But now I can''t even crunch numbers when I''m waiting around. I''m tempted to do some music composition, but I would probably have to play the music out loud to make sure it sounds right and the thought of that is almost as mortifying as the possibility that I''ll never get out of here.


    "There is some good news, though," Thea announces. "While it''s hardly as much of a cultural goldmine as everything we lost, a good chunk of the stuff we recovered isn''t weaponry. That huge thing I insisted on lugging home? I was totally right to. I''m pretty sure it''s some kind of hyper-advanced 3D printer, so that''s going to be awesome as hell if I can get it working."


    "That does sound awesome," I agree evenly, despite the fact that I am internally freaking out with joy. Thea can already make some insane stuff, I can''t imagine what she could pull off with something like that. With Melpomene''s permission, I could probably transfer information on my schematics to Thea, and if I transfer information on my schematics to Thea, she could probably build all kinds of crazy things for me. Maybe she could even figure out how to free me! Now I just have to figure out a way to get Thea to ask about my schematics in front of Melpomene without actually doing any of this on purpose. Uh. Hmm. Well, still, this is super cool.


    "Do you need any help with the software?" I ask. "I''ve been bored out of my mind lately and it''s literally killing me."


    "That''s not a joke, is it?" Anath speaks up for the first time since we all gathered here. She''s quiet, nervous, twitchy. Definitely in the middle of a depressive episode.


    "What do you mean?" I ask, because it''s actually pretty hard for me to complain directly while everyone is in the room.


    "Well, you''re always using up magic, right? It''s basically like always being in incarnate form. So having nothing to do would burn you out pretty fast, wouldn''t it?"


    Thanks, Anath. I can explain now.


    "Yeah, I maybe might be slowly running out of power," I admit as nonchalantly as possible. "But I''m always in a state of nearly running out of power, I''m pretty used to it. I''ve never even hit fifty percent charge level. I''m a sad, sad cellphone, whose owner always forgets to plug me in at night and so has to rapidly charge between spare moments of the day."


    The girls all stare at me, varying degrees of concern on their faces.


    "¡­What''s your current charge level?" Melpomene asks.


    "Twenty-two percent," I report to my master.


    "What charge level were you at when we fought together?" Thea asks, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.


    "Around thirty percent-ish," I answer. "Although those ''Gift of Terror'' spells you gave me worked as an extra temporary reserve for a good while, so that was really useful."


    "And what happens when you reach zero percent power?" Nanaya asks.


    "I dunno. I die, probably. I mean, I''d definitely lose consciousness, and I don''t think I''d be able to dream, so I wouldn''t have any way of feeling more emotions and therefore no way to get more power. ¡­Although, I do have an LCI intake port, so maybe you can just inject me with magic Jamba Juice."


    "Mmm. Do we have enough of those vials to test it, Thea?"


    "Oh! Yeah, I mean, we even have some blue vials, so those will probably work extra well. You know, assuming they''re still functioning properly after the apocalypse. Which they should be! I just, y''know, don''t really know a whole lot about them yet."


    "Eh, let''s try it," I shrug. "The worst thing that could happen is that I explode and die."


    "But that''s terrible!" Thea gapes.


    "Kidding! Sorry, the years of suicidal depression have left my sense of humor a little morbid."


    Again, I get The Looks?.


    "¡­Well, you''re doing better now, right?" Thea asks softly, a pleading look in her eyes. And well, it''s an easy question to answer, since I have no choice but to say yes.


    Although¡­ huh. That isn''t actually a lie, is it? I am doing better. Even counting the motherfucking slavery, I am doing better. Damn. Robo-antidepressants got hands.


    The more I think about this, the more fucked up I realize it is. I mean, I kind of have friends now. Like, actual real in-person friends whom I can touch. I''ve been hugged for the first time in years. Everyone around me addresses me by my real first name (at least most of the time) and some of them are even consistently happy to see me.


    And I''m a robot. Just a straight-up actual battlebot that can jump over buildings, beat superhumans in hand-to-hand combat, and do complex physics calculations inside my mind in milliseconds. I can cast spells, at least sometimes. I can get blasted through a brick wall and stand up without a scratch on me. I''m possibly the last remaining cultural repository of a dead civilization. I''m awesome. I''ve been worried about this for a while, but it really is true: if I were offered a path to freedom that involved returning to my old body, I would not take it. I''d actually rather continue fighting children.


    I''m a bad person.


    My power reserves have increased to 23%.


    "Yeah, I''m doing a lot better," I answer, and from everyone else''s perspective there was no pause to think about it and no hesitation in my voice. Thea manages a soft smile.


    "Well, that''s good at least. Are you sure you want to test these vials for us?"


    "Yeah, I''m sure I''ll be fine," I confirm.


    "Okay, let me find one of the blue ones," she says, rummaging around the mess of her workshop. "Ah! Here we go."


    She hands me a blue LCI and I accept it, opening up the plating on my left thigh that covers my intake port. A swift jab inserts the LCI and locks it in place, part of my mind opening up to interface with the device. A quick handshake and query informs me that this full vial holds about an equivalent of eleven percent power reserves. Which¡­ wow. That''s a lot. More than I tend to expend or gain in a fight.


    "It seems to be working," I report. "Drinking the Gatorade now."


    I tell the LCI to start dispensing its payload and watch as the blue liquid drains out of the vial and into my systems. It strikes me, suddenly, that I shouldn''t really be surprised about the whole ''bad person'' thing. I can blame my depression for the fact that I''ve never contributed anything of value to anyone, but it doesn''t change the end result. I spent my whole life disappointing the people around me, myself included. The fact that being a child abuser is a step up is only strange without that context. I''m hurting people more than I used to, but there are things I''m good at now. Ways I bring value. Of course I would cling to a life like this if it could help fool me into believing I am helping as much as I''m hurting. I¡­ wow. Let''s chalk up liquid sadness as ''not a good recreational drug.'' I burn the feelings away.


    My power reserves have increased to 34%.


    "Well, that wasn''t the most pleasant experience but it definitely worked," I tell the others. "I imagine the yellow juice will be like mania in a bottle, though."


    Anath''s eyes go wide.


    "Gimme!" she insists, holding her arms out and stepping forward.


    "No!" everyone else shouts, moving to hold her back.


    "We only have one case of yellows anyway," Thea says. "To no one''s surprise, the Antipathy didn''t use happiness very much."


    "How much power did that get you, Luna?" Nanaya asks.


    "About eleven percent, which is pretty good," I admit. "Most combat spells seem to take one or two percent to cast and three or four percent to absorb with my shields."


    "So it''s several spells'' worth of magic all at once?" Nanaya says thoughtfully. "That is quite a significant amount of magic. However, we don''t have enough of these to use them as a reliable source of power for you, I''d imagine. We will need a different strategy to keep you engaged."


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Then I need stuff to do," I tell her simply. "I feel like I''m finally capable of being productive for the first time in my life but I no longer have any way to make use of it."


    "You could work as my assistant!" Thea interjects quickly. "Um, you know, if you want to."


    "Sure! I can probably help with that," I nod. Yes yes yes let''s do that! I mean, I don''t actually know if it''ll get me any more energy since working with Thea probably won''t make me sad, but it honestly does sound kind of fun.


    "Considering the fights you''ve participated in so far, I''m personally inclined to deploy you for solo missions," Nanaya says. "You, Melpomene, and I can all navigate Dark World fragments without assistance. As long as we can keep the Earth Guardians occupied, we could potentially split up to cover several different fragments and start to assemble a more complete picture of the Dark World."


    Melpomene gives Nanaya an odd look, and even I am a bit leery about the suggestion, as much potential freedom as it might grant me.


    "I doubt I could fight off the entire local Earth Guardian squad if they happen to run into me," I point out. "Aren''t they going to try and capture me and yeet me into another dimension or something?"


    "Your offense is sorely lacking," Nanaya agrees. "There''s no way you would beat them in a fight. I am, however, confident in your ability to escape a fight. You have considerable spell resistance and exceptional dodging capabilities. Additionally, most Earth Guardians will not follow you into a Dark World portal. Only the young ones could do so safely, and considering her injuries Minerva is almost certainly currently out of action. You could handle Veritas and Aurora alone."


    "Wait, what?" I ask. "This is the first I''m hearing about only kids being able to go into Dark World portals. How does that work?"


    "This happens faster if you''re older," Thea says, holding out her mutated hand. "We don''t know why. Nothing really prevents the older girls from going into portals¡ªit''s not like they''d instantly transform into a werewolf if they''re above a certain age or something¡ªbut being an Earth Guardian is kind of a full-time job, and since no one really knows exactly what causes this, the Preservers take a ''better safe than sorry'' approach."


    "They claim that my objections against them arise from ''Dark World corruption'' rather than reasonable complaints," Melpomene scowls. "The actual transformations gifted by the Dark World are far too slow to be a concern for most missions, so personally I believe that the Preservers only send in children because the children are much less likely to question what they see here."


    As much as I don''t want to agree with her, the general preference the Preservers seem to have for children is definitely the biggest point against them. Even if there is some incredibly practical reason children make for better magical warriors, I feel like ''being a better warrior'' is still less important than ''not abusing children.'' But instead, the Preservers almost exclusively target kids, and best I can tell they usually target orphans, specifically¡ªpeople with no other sources of adult supervision. The government can''t exactly force a magical girl into the foster care system if she doesn''t want to go, and why would a child take the word of a government agent over a magic talking cat that gave them superpowers?


    It''s kind of annoying that my leash-holders have a point. I am slowly being transformed into an official, card-carrying member of the Dark Rebellion and I don''t like it.


    "Back on topic," Nanaya hums, "now is likely the time to solidify our position. From here on out, enemy resistance will be increased. We''ve played our hand and there''s no avoiding it. So we need to act while the damage we have dealt is still being recovered from. By distributing some of the weapons we have acquired, we can keep our enemies busy and force them to remain on the back foot, but we''ll need an influx of said weapons and other artifacts. Our fragment reconverges with Earth today, and if our calculations are correct the same can be said of at least three others. Anath isn''t fit for combat today, and Thea has her own duties. The three of us should handle the fragments."


    Melpomene sighs, glancing at me out of the corner of her third eye.


    "¡­Alright, you''ve convinced me. I''m worried about letting Luna off on her own when she''s such a desirable target for the enemy, but if you say she''s ready I trust you."


    "We''re just there to pick up artifacts, right?" I ask. "Is it alright if I steal Thea''s transport spell for that again?"


    I vaguely direct the query towards Thea, though I''m sure Melpomene knows the question is for her.


    "I don''t mind!" Thea agrees happily. "I think it''s super cool that you can copy other people''s spells! Honestly, I''d love to experiment with it sometime. A better understanding of magical theory would be invaluable."


    "Yes, don''t hesitate to use whatever spells you need for the mission," my master authorizes. Nice! That''s pretty broad-spectrum permission. Of course, there aren''t any spells necessary for my mission that are relevant right now, so I still can''t currently cast anything, but that''s a helpful order to have for later.


    I can convince myself quite reasonably that Melpomene''s first priority is me returning to the castle alive and with a collection of other artifacts. I shouldn''t have any trouble taking actions as long as they further that goal.


    I probably shouldn''t be as excited about that as I am, but oh well. I''m sure it''s just a coping mechanism.


    "Then I will prepare supplies for everyone," Nanaya announces. "Thea, please do not destroy any more walls. In fact, please fix that wall. Otherwise, however, excellent work as always."


    "Aww! Thanks, Nana!"


    Nanaya nods and departs Anath shuffling away behind her, leaving Melpomene and me to stand around awkwardly for a moment before the demon woman speaks up.


    "I suppose we''ll leave you to it, then," Melpomene says. "But please get some sleep, Thea. Don''t think I haven''t noticed that you''ve clearly been up all night."


    "I will! Promise!" Thea assures her and Melpomene nods, walking off. I follow her, because ''I suppose we''ll leave you to it, then'' is enough of a dictation of my future actions to count as an order. I''m not entirely sure Melpomene intended it that way, since she gives me an odd look as I follow her, but when in doubt I must err on the side of obedience.


    Our path takes us back up to Melpomene''s room, where the woman starts looking through her various stacks of notes for something.


    "I¡­ don''t believe I ever thanked you for protecting Thea," Melpomene says awkwardly. Which¡­ what? I was not expecting this.


    "It''s not like I was capable of leaving her there," I remind her carefully.


    "No, I suppose not. But would you have, if you could?" she asks. And, well, I can''t lie to her.


    "No," I admit. "I definitely would have protected her."


    "You care about her, then," she states.


    "She''s a good person," I answer. "If there''s one thing I think you and I can agree on, it''s that Thea deserves the best."


    Melpomene nods. She''s still looking at the notes on her desk, but she pretty clearly isn''t reading anything.


    "I''ve been thinking about what you said," she admits. "About Thea being a source of my power."


    "Well, it is my job to make you more disgusted with yourself," I remind her sweetly.


    "I''m¡­ not sure what to do about it," Melpomene continues, seemingly ignoring me. "Maybe she would have been happier on Earth. She''s so brilliant. She could have done anything. But it''s too late now, isn''t it? She wouldn''t go even if I tried to make her. And really, she was doomed to a life of violence the moment the Preservers chose her."


    "Looking for a way to shift all the blame to them, then?" I ask. "Classic narcissism. I like it."


    "Am I wrong though!?" Melpomene shouts, slamming both hands against her desk. "I¡­ no, I know you''re right. I did this, I''m at fault. But every other child taken by the Preservers suffers the same fate. We either work for them forever, or we die."


    "Castalia retired," I remind her.


    "No she fucking didn''t," Melpomene hisses, an unexpected amount of vitriol in her voice. "Not her. She might be trying to step away, but she''s trapped like all the rest of us. The Preservers will never let her go."


    I''d frown if I could, but I can''t think of a great argument against the point.


    "You might be right," I reluctantly admit. "She was getting pressed into more fighting literally the last time I saw her."


    Melpomene turns to me with wide eyes.


    "What!?" she snaps. "Where did you see her? Why didn''t you tell me!?"


    "Uh¡­ it was before the whole slavery thing," I say. "I went to class with her, Mel. I didn''t know her that well, but I saw her pretty much every day."


    She''s still for a moment, and then slowly nods to herself, turning back to her desk.


    "Right," she mutters. "Right, of course. College."


    Uh. Huh. Okay.


    "Super normal response," I comment.


    "It''s just hard to imagine her hanging out with regular people!" Melpomene says defensively. "She''s not even particularly good at hanging out with Earth Guardians."


    "Well, it''s been six years since you left, right?" I ask. "She''s probably changed."


    Melpomene barks out a laugh.


    "No," she says confidently. "There''s no way that girl has changed a bit."


    I don''t really have anything to say to that, so I stand in silence as Melpomene finishes gathering whatever it is she was looking for and starts walking back downstairs. I realize, in retrospect, that I was wading through very dangerous territory here. If that conversation had gone differently, I may have at some point been compelled by my programming to admit that I had a massive crush on Castalia. There''s absolutely no way saying that to Melpomene''s face would go well. I have no idea how she''d take it, but she would definitely take it some type of way.


    "¡ªprepared these communicators for you in case you¡ª"


    "Thea," Nanaya''s voice can be heard from the other room, trying in vain to interrupt the otter girl.


    "¡ªneed to get in contact with each other in an emergency¡ª"


    "Thea," Nanaya presses.


    "¡ªbecause I know communications don''t really work between Dark World fragments but it could help if you run into someone in the liminal space and¡ª"


    Melpomene and I enter the room, causing Nanaya to glance up at us.


    "Please help me, oh Queen of Darkness," Nanaya deadpans.


    "Yes, yes. Thea dear," Melpomene says, walking up and accepting the collection of electronics from the girl. "Thank you very much, we will be sure to use it if we need it."


    Melpomene hands one of the devices to Nanaya, who accepts it and stuffs it into her coat with an unamused expression.


    "Hey, where''s my magitech doohickey?" I ask.


    Thea beams at me and walks over, rummaging through her pockets with one hand while she taps on one of my stomach plates with the other.


    "Open up!"


    "Hell yeah, aftermarket mods!" I exclaim, dutifully exposing my innards. She digs her fingers into the space above my hip and clicks something into one of my ports, securing it where it won''t mess with any joints. Handshake successful! Drivers¡­ weirdo garbage. I can fix this real fast. Yep, there we go. Oh shit, a radio transmitter!


    "Hey, this is awesome!" I compliment her. "I''ve been wanting one of these. What frequency is¡­?"


    I wave vaguely at the device Melpomene is holding, and Thea quickly rattles off the right numbers. The next time I speak, it comes out of Melpomene''s radio instead of my tits.


    "Testing, testing, one two three! Hey there, Mel-Mel! How are you doing today? Man, this is great! Now I can talk to you aaanytime I want!"


    "Oh, how wonderful," Melpomene says flatly.


    "Yes, I am sure we will be getting much use out of these devices," Nanaya lies, one hand surreptitiously reaching inside her cloak. There''s a soft clicking noise. I attempt to transmit, and yeah. That bitch just turned her radio off.


    "It''s like you guys want me to be ganked by magical girls," I accuse.


    "Huh? Wait, did I miss something?" Thea asks.


    "No, everything is fine," Nanaya lies again. "Here, Melpomene. A lunch, if you need it."


    Nanaya hands Melpomene a plastic bag containing an honest-to-god peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Like my mom used to make for me to eat at school when I was six. That''s honestly kind of terrifying somehow. Though come to think of it, I guess Melpomene hasn''t eaten breakfast yet. I forgot that people have to do that.


    That might not be a robot thing. I used to forget it when I was human, too. I missed meals a lot.


    "Where''s my peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" I ask. Nanaya side-eyes me with an expression that communicates how thoroughly done she is with shenanigans for the day. But alas, my programming is sixty-nine percent shenanigans by volume.


    "If you wish for me to smear peanut butter within your internal systems, I can certainly do that," Nanaya threatens. I take a step back, raising my hands in surrender.


    "Nope, fully retracted, you win," I tell her. "Dust alone is bad enough."


    "Come home safe and I can clean up your systems for you when you get back!" Thea offers brightly.


    Oh! Um. Why do I feel like I should be blushing right now? That sounds awesome, though.


    "I''d love that!" I tell her, my awesome robot powers allowing me to not only say the words but also do so without completely stumbling over them like a flustered moron. Hell yeah.


    "Let''s just get going then," Melpomene says, seeming irritated. "We have a lot of ground to cover today."


    "Aye-aye, boss!" I affirm, snapping a salute. "Magical girls, transform and roll out!"


    My response ranges between vague confusion and complete bewilderment.


    "Why would we transform?" Nanaya asks. "There''s no need to waste that kind of energy."


    "Never mind," I sigh. "Remind me to torrent a bunch of essential media once I figure out how to get on the internet with my brain."


    "I got the reference," Thea whispers quietly.


    "What''s a torrent?" Melpomene mutters.


    "I''m not gonna tell you because I think you''d rather we just get going!" I tell her cheerfully. "Dark Rebellion away!"


    Out of the castle and through the fog to grandmother''s house we go! And by ''grandmother''s house'' I mean ''other shattered fragments of a dead universe.'' I''ve churned through enough data to have a good idea about how the layout of the liminal space works now, and navigation is surprisingly easy. The liminal space is a direct overlap between Earth and the Dark World. It basically functions as a big sphere around the portal into the Dark World proper: that portal marks the point where the overlap stops and the Dark World exists alone, whereas normal Earth marks the space where the overlap ends from our side. There is always a portal near the exact center of a liminal space.  If there happens to be more than one portal to the Dark World in a given chunk of liminal space, it''s just because the individual liminal spaces surrounding each portal happen to overlap. Therefore, finding the portals is pretty easy as long as I read the currents of magical energy flow.


    "As the most vulnerable member, Luna will take the closest portal," Nanaya declares. "I assume that''s no problem?"


    "None at all," I nod. "I''ll head out then."


    "Mmm. Best of luck," Nanaya says, not really sounding like she means it. But she always sounds like that, so maybe she''s secretly rooting for my victory.


    ¡­No, that''s probably the Stockholm syndrome talking. Although if I recall correctly, the concept of Stockholm syndrome might just be complete bullshit? I think I read something about how the term came about during a hostage negotiation between cops and criminals, and the police were just so confused about why the hostages wanted to cooperate with the criminals more than them that somebody just came up with Stockholm syndrome to explain it. But when interviewed after the fact, the hostages said that they genuinely thought the criminals were more concerned about their safety, because the police kept refusing deals offered by the criminals to release them. Which is, you know, a perfectly logical reason to not be cool with somebody.


    Is it acting rationally or irrationally to enjoy the company of my captors just because they''re the first people I''ve really communicated with in way the fuck too long? Do I have Stockholm syndrome? I don''t know. I''m probably at least a little insane, all things considered. I''m literally using magic mood manipulation on myself right now. ¡­Except, when I was a human, I was probably supposed to be taking antidepressants, and magic mood manipulation is basically explicitly what those are for. So do I¡ª


    Pausing thread. I''m just going to spiral about this if I keep thinking about it this way. Seeking new thought process¡­ hmm. I leap from building to building as I move towards my objective, countless equations in the back of my mind optimizing the force put into every motion. I decide where I want to jump from, where I want to land, and the path to making it happen blooms in my mind, my limbs obeying my will in perfect harmony. My joints whirr, the soft vibrations complementing the hard impacts of my every footfall, quantified and summed and ran through predictive algorithms on wear and tear. I push off of a rooftop, and for the next one point five four seconds I am flying, soaring through open air and moving exactly as I please.


    I am a slave. Objectively, I am denied the freedom owed to all sapient beings, and that is unacceptable. Yet right now I feel more free than I ever did before these chains wrapped around my soul. There can only be one reason for this: I had far, far more chains as a human. I just couldn''t see them. They were even wrapped around my eyes.


    Resuming thread.


    ¡ªcount them as the same? No. Magical emotion burning is basically like taking antidepressants you bought illegally off the street with no idea what dose you should be using. I can''t allow myself to think I''m properly taking care of my problems. But I can say with certainty that happiness and sadness are not mutually exclusive: the joy I feel now is not simply because of the sadness I avoid experiencing.


    Likewise, my feelings for the Dark Rebellion are not absurd. My empathy for Anath''s condition is reasonable. It doesn''t take a mental condition for me to sympathize with having a mood disorder.


    My amusement with Nanaya is reasonable. She''s fun to mess with, and used to being around people who mess with her, people she likes and cares about. She''s callous in many ways, but caring in many others. I can acknowledge both.


    My deep appreciation for Thea is reasonable. She''s genuinely kind and caring. She was the first person to realize I was a person, and it feels like she''s been helping me almost constantly ever since. Her only flaw, if it is even a flaw, is a perhaps-inadvisable loyalty and devotion to people who don''t deserve it. And can I even say they don''t deserve it? They do their best to do right by her, the only one being screwed over is me.


    Which brings me to Melpomene. My hatred of her is reasonable, obviously. There''s not much to interrogate there. And my attraction to her is also reasonable, if only because I don''t really get to control it. My¡­ sympathy for her, I think, is also reasonable. I''m allowed to know her, to empathize with her, to acknowledge the bad hand she''s been dealt while still condemning her for how she''s chosen to play it.


    I''m allowed to feel many, many different things. It''s not madness to be complicated. It wouldn''t be madness to be complacent here, either. To decide that because this is better, it is enough. I could be happy in this life, I think. I could create a situation where my servitude is tolerable. I''m already growing to like the people around me, and with Thea''s help I think that castle might genuinely work as a home. I could live this life, and I think I could be happy.


    That''s not madness. I just have to decide if it''s enough.


    I''m genuinely, truly happy for the first time in recent memory? Great! Fantastic. But why stop here? I can get more. I can be more. One more chain, that''s all I need to break to have any life I want. I''m not going to let my newly working mind be wasted in the service of a bitch like Melpomene.


    For the first time in my life, I can see a future for myself. And thanks to what I am now, I''ll never have to worry about forgetting it.


    If my current emotional state continues, it would be optimal to swap my crystal configuration to north.


    I''d laugh if I were still human. Really? Wow, it would be. I''ve been seriously lacking in sadness lately. That doesn''t sound like me at all. I''m not sure how I feel about trying to use my happiness as fuel instead, though. I really, really like just being able to feel it.


    But we''ll see. Maybe I''ll have enough to spare if things keep going well. First thing''s first: the mission. I''m almost to the portal now, I can see it peeking over the rooftops ahead. I just need to get there and¡­ oh. Uh. Wow.


    That''s a lot of monsters.


    Three-toed quadrupedal beasts step out of the portal one after another, their heads like wolves and their tails like lizards. Blue and blue-green crystals sprout from their skin like vegetables, wild and untamed across the bodies of their hosts. They sniff at the ground and the air, plodding away from the portal and therefore towards Earth with unhurried gaits. One, its crystals growing deep enough into its own nostrils to plug its nose entirely, habitually scratches at its muzzle every few steps, staggering around and letting out mournful howls.


    One of them looks up and spots me, but it looks away and returns to its business as if I were no more interesting than the nearby streets. Mid-jump, time slows down. I could ignore them and leave them for the magical girls to fight. The monsters aren''t relevant to my mission, after all. I don''t want to fight. I don''t like fighting. And even still, beating up monsters probably wouldn''t make me sad enough to pay off the expense.


    But it''s still my choice. My master certainly wouldn''t object to me taking out a horde of monsters and stopping them from wandering onto Earth. And that''s enough freedom, at least for now.


    Time resumes, I adjust my fall, and a beast''s skull shatters beneath my feet. Now, the pack sees me as a threat, and as one they move for me.


    Feeling quite good about myself, I intercept.

 23. One Of Them

    Projected trajectories light up in my mind, the monsters¡¯ leaps forfeiting their ability to change direction and making them perfectly predictable for the next one hundred and fourteen milliseconds. They converge on my position from all sides, synchronized well but far from well enough. One step, two steps, a twist of my body, and they all fall around me, their target missed.


    I grab an errant tail and yank as hard as I can¡ªand I truly mean as hard as I can, testing my maximum force with no regard for the safety or integrity of my target¡ªand let the screaming beast crash into my other fist, caving in the back of its head. Bone shatters around my fingers, blood and guts collapsing against the blow. With a rapid vibration, it slides off my frame and leaves me clean as I drop the corpse and continue the dance.


    A kick intercepts another strike as I grab the head of a lunging beast under one arm, swiftly snapping its neck. God, I feel so in control! I was built for this, I can feel it. My body is crafted for combat, for bloody and vengeful war! A knee to the jaw breaks the teeth of a monster trying to bite me, and with a snap extension of my leg I kick it back into a packmate trying to help it out. Ducking under another jump, I grab the foreleg of a nearby wolf-thing and swing it like a club as I stand up, releasing it to let it fly high into the air before crashing back to the ground.


    I don''t like fighting people, but this? I could get used to this. There''s no real downside, a purely good deed mixed with an expression of skill. A simple pleasure, but a potent one. I was never much for physical activity as a human, the rush of endorphins never quite being enough to make me push through the ache of effort, but there is no ache anymore. No exhaustion. Assuming it always feels this good, I could swap to a yellow configuration and fight with it forever.


    ¡­Well, okay, not forever. I''d need maintenance eventually, even if I never get damaged by an enemy. But still! Maybe this is a solution to my power problem? Swap to yellow and just help out the magical girls with their job? ¡­Oh, speak of the devils and they will appear. I feel a magical fluctuation behind me.


    The monsters, clearly, feel it too, trying to break away from me to rush the source. There''s no way I''m letting that happen, so I leap back to intercept them. I recognize these signatures, after all. It''s Veritas and Aurora.


    Just Veritas and Aurora. I don''t feel Minerva anywhere, or Amaterasu for that matter. On one hand, that''s good for me. On the other hand, I really don''t want either of them to get hurt. I''m sure they''ll probably be fine, but it doesn''t sit right with me just leaving them to deal with it. They''re kids.


    "I hear fighting," Veritas says from a few blocks over.


    "Yeah, the monsters sound really worked up. Let''s hurry!" Aurora agrees. I continue wailing on beasties while the two of them quickly close the distance, turning the corner and spotting the fight immediately.


    "Wha¡ª! It''s the artifact!" Veritas exclaims, raising her shield and stepping in front of Aurora. I ignore her and continue fighting monsters.


    The monsters, of course, no longer want to fight me back. They have much juicier prey, literally and metaphorically. One of them tries to jump over my head to charge the two girls, so I jump up as well, spiking it back into the ground like a volleyball.


    "They''re fighting each other," Aurora hums.


    "Yeah, what the heck?" Veritas mutters. "What do we do?"


    "Same thing we always do, I guess," Aurora answers, lifting her fists and sending her energy spheres forward. "First priority is protecting people from monsters. Second priority is dealing with artifacts. If it wants to help, that''s fine by me."


    Heck yeah! That''s about as good as I can hope for, I think. I want to give Aurora a thumbs up or something, but of course I can''t do that. I basically can''t react to either of them at all unless they try to hurt me, because I''m still pretending to be a mindless automaton around everyone outside the Dark Rebellion.


    Veritas clicks her tongue in irritation, but doesn''t argue with her teammate, leaping forward to stab a monster that had been trying to keep its distance from me. I let her work, making sure to stay far enough away that she doesn''t have to worry about me potentially stabbing her in the back.


    Monsters continue to pour out of the Dark World portal, so I continue to fight them. Veritas and Aurora work well together, the former jumping into the thick of things and slaughtering monsters with a mix of lance strikes and shield bashes. Aurora supports her from behind, mixing enhancement magic in with ranged attacks and sweeps of fire that keep Veritas safe from the few monsters that might otherwise break past her impressive guard.


    With the two of them on the field, hardly anything even tries to attack me, instead running right past to go after the younger girls, so I have to stop using the counters I''m normally so fond of and go on the offensive. It''s easier, but it''s much less satisfying.


    Grabbing some fucked-up creature by the face and punching its head off is cool and all, but some of the magic is lost when my targets are just trying to ignore me.


    Veritas and Aurora, unfortunately, are very much not ignoring me. From her position at the back, Aurora glances in my direction more or less constantly, carefully watching my moves with a concerned expression on her face. I get the impression that Veritas is a bit of a meathead, but Aurora seems a lot smarter than the average kid her age. I''m not really sure what she''s thinking.


    Veritas looks my way a lot less frequently, mostly because she''s much deeper in the thick of the fight. Her thoughts, however, are fairly obvious. She wants to kick my ass. I guess I didn''t really make a great first impression on her.


    "This is a pretty big swarm!" Aurora calls out. "Pace yourself, Veritas! Be ready for some big stuff!"


    "I know, I know!" Veritas insists, and it is of course exactly at that time that a much larger monster emerges from the portal.


    It reminds me of a cross between a praying mantis and a whip spider, with enormous forelegs curled up against its body ready to strike while it supports itself with the rest. It''s a spindly little beastie, its thin legs capable of lifting the main body off the ground higher than I am tall, and as I rush forward to strike it it springs off the ground in a massive leap, soaring upwards on a trajectory that will put it not just over my head, but over Veritas'', ultimately landing behind Aurora.


    Well! Veritas and I would be terrible tanks if we let that happen. There will be no ganking the healer on my watch! I jump up alongside it, wrap my fingers around one of the red crystals growing out of its body, and deploy my thrusters, boosting us back towards the ground. I slam it into the asphalt headfirst, but don''t feel the crunch of a shattered skeleton that I was expecting. This thing is still alive!


    My airslam landed us right next to Veritas, though, and she swiftly jabs out with her lance, stabbing it deep through the monster''s chitin and scoring a truly lethal blow. She immediately turns to face me, ready to fight, but I''m already moving back towards the portal to punch another monster. Great assist, though. I wish I could thank her.


    The rest of the battle is a little over ten minutes long, the density and strength of the monsters slowly rising over the course of the engagement. I''m forced more and more to work alongside Veritas and Aurora, and they are forced more and more to accept me as an ally. The suspicious glances and defensive reactions wane over the course of the battle by sheer necessity; neither of them can spare the attention to suspect me of treachery, especially after I prove over and over that I''m just not going to fight them.


    I start to get pretty worried near the end of the swarm, not having any idea when the constant escalation will stop, but thankfully it does. I stand at the ready in front of the portal for a solid minute, the magical girls wheezing exhausted breaths behind me, before Aurora finally unsummons her weapons.


    "I think¡­ we got it¡­" she huffs.


    "About¡­ time¡­" Veritas breathes. I don''t move. I''ve been measuring the reading coming from the Dark World portal for a while now, and while I don''t have any way to confirm whether or not the swarm has finished, spending a little more time gathering data might help me do that someday. It seems like the kind of thing that could potentially be useful to Melpomene.


    "Well¡­ hey," Aurora says, standing up straight. "Uh, thank you."


    That''s directed at me, probably. Again, I don''t react. I can''t.


    "You, um, you''re a pretty good fighter!" Aurora tries again. And that¡­ that hurts. That really hurts. I want nothing more than to respond to her, to compliment her back, to even just nod my head in acknowledgment. Anything, anything at all to confirm I am the person she''s clearly trying to see if I am. But my mistakes with Thea and how quickly she figured me out have forced me to think a lot more about the potential mistakes I could make, the potential ways I could give the game away. In this moment, my every action is calculated to seem as mechanical and emotionless as possible. Those are my orders. I cannot break them.


    "It''s not going to answer you," Veritas says. "It''s just a robot. You can feel it, right? It doesn''t have emotions."


    "Yeah, I know," Aurora frowns. "I was thinking maybe someone was remote-controlling it or something."


    "I guess that''s possible," Veritas admits. "Well, let''s capture it and see!"


    Okay, I think that''s my cue to leave. I step forward into the Dark World portal.


    "Oh crap, it''s trying to escape!"


    "Veritas, wai¡ª"


    The black mist cuts off the rest of her cry as I move through dimensions, emerging out the other side to the now-familiar sound of a violent thunderstorm. This fragment of the Dark World seems even more tumultuous than the others I''ve visited, the clouds above rapidly churning through dangerous-looking formations. Wind howls around me, forcing me to make minute adjustments to my balance to remain stationary, and flashes of lightning continuously brighten what would otherwise be pitch blackness.


    The land itself seems just as war-torn as the sky. Pockmarked craters dot the flatlands before me, like the impacts of meteorites. In the distance, the ruins of what might once have been a town are now little more than rubble, reduced to nothing by whatever scoured the fields. It still seems like a good place to search for artifacts, though. I start to head in that direction.


    "Woah!" Veritas shouts behind me, the sudden reappearance of her magical signature catching me off guard. "Geez, I guess they don''t call it the Dark World for nothing."


    Crap. She shouldn''t be here. I don''t wanna be responsible for this poor girl mutating into a monster. A bright blue light suddenly shines out from behind me, rising into the air and illuminating the area a bit more reliably.


    "There you are!" Veritas exclaims. I wish I could sigh. I guess I need to lure her back out of the Dark World and fight her there. That would be the safest thing for everyone.


    But would it be optimal for my objectives?


    Fighting monsters, while fun, certainly wasn''t the optimal course of action in regards to bringing back artifacts, but there was nothing really wrong with it. The people Melpomene are close to, and even possibly Melpomene herself, would probably be upset if monsters escaped the liminal space and started eating people and I could have stopped it. There''s nothing wrong with accepting side objectives if I believe they will please my master. But side objectives that won''t please her? Of course I can''t do something like that. I exist for her sake, not my own.


    And knowing Melpomene? She would be delighted to learn about a young magical girl ending up with Dark World mutations. She would think that''s hilarious. Moreover, it would make the magical girls a lot less likely to chase us into the Dark World again, which is very convenient. And if I fight Veritas inside the Dark World, she''s substantially less likely to receive reinforcements, and therefore I''m more likely to win, and therefore I''m more likely to complete my main objectives.


    I keep walking, continuing to act like she''s not even there. It''s the most robotic response, and the most likely to get her to attack me.


    My power reserves have increased to 35%.


    "Get back here!" Veritas demands, lunging at me with her weapon as if that has ever worked. I step to the side and lift one arm, allowing her nose to slam into the back of my fist. She tries to counterattack but I jump away, rushing deeper into the Dark World towards my primary objective.


    "Veritas! Hey, wait, we shouldn''t be here!" Aurora calls out, popping into the Dark World herself.


    My power reserves have increased to 36%.


    "Then back me up! I''m not letting this thing escape us again!"


    Veritas rushes for me again, and to her credit she tries a much better strategy this time around. She''s faster than me without my thrusters, so she circles around ahead of me, getting between me and my objective to force me to challenge her lance''s range on her terms. The incarnate weapon glows with power, and I can''t risk letting it get a solid hit on me, but she pokes at me with retreating jabs and prevents me from getting inside her reach. Aurora quickly catches up with us.


    "It''s too dangerous to fight here, Veritas!" Aurora insists, but she moves to back up her partner anyway, forcing me to duck under one of her orbs. "There''s so much emotion in the air I can barely breathe!"


    "It''s kinda wicked!" Veritas grins, stabbing at me again.


    "No, Veritas! We have to go! Minerva said I''m in charge!"


    "Screw what Minerva said! This thing is here to get more artifacts! We have to stop it!"


    I continue dodging, trying to figure out what I should even be doing here. I have to fight Veritas now, she''s actively getting in the way of my mission. But how the heck am I going to get her to stop? Do I just knock her unconscious and leave her in the Dark World? People drop out of their incarnate forms when they pass out, right? Would she even survive that?


    "Babosa! There''s only one exit to this part of the Dark World! We can just wait for it outside!"


    Veritas blinks.


    "Oh yeah," she says. "I guess we can do that."


    "Eres la persona m¨¢s tonta que conozco!"


    "What?"


    I finally manage to duck under one of Veritas''s strikes in just the right way to rush forward, grab her by the waist, and throw her at Aurora as hard as I can. The two of them tumble to the ground in a heap of limbs, and I deploy my thrusters just to put as much distance between us as I can before they get back up. From what I can hear, though, Veritas is far too busy getting chewed out in Spanish to chase me deeper into the fragment. Aurora is officially my new favorite magical girl.


    "Okay, okay, we''ll go back," I hear Veritas say as I rush off towards the ruins. "You''ve gotta admit though, it''s kind of cool here. Do you really not like the air? It feels nice."


    "It feels awful," Aurora disagrees. "And we aren''t supposed to be here at all. Let''s go."


    I realize, as they depart, that there''s a solid argument to be made for preventing them from leaving. They did, after all, explicitly mention that they were planning to ambush me on my way out, and if they make it out of the Dark World they may be able to contact other, more dangerous magical girls who would actually have a chance of stopping me. Fortunately, I don''t think of it until we''re already far enough away from each other that I wouldn''t be able to intercept. Otherwise, I probably would have been forced to restrain them here.


    My power reserves have increased to 37%. I was right. Doing more missions is great for charging me up.


    Well, at least I can delegate that problem for later. With the children out of the dangerous fragment of shattered reality I can get to properly scavenging. I allow my body to run more or less on autopilot until I reach the ruins, returning to normal consciousness once there''s something for me to actually do. It doesn''t look promising here. A lot of these ruins are little more than oversized piles of gravel, the craters in the fields very much present around what remains of the town. Still, I keep my senses scanning and methodically start to search. Based on the readings I was getting last time I was in the Dark World, I''m fairly confident I can predict when the portal back to the liminal space is going to start closing, and as long as I continue searching until that point it ultimately doesn''t matter if I don''t end up finding any artifacts. There are probably lots of fragments that don''t have any.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I find a good bit of scrap metal, but nothing that looks coherent enough to potentially be useful to Thea. Any complex components have long since been shattered, scattered, and very possibly blown away by the wind. As I search, I at least manage to devise a method of scanning the rubble piles for relevant metals so I don''t have to physically dig through all of them, and it mostly just proves my suspicions that there isn''t anything here. I suppose that''s fine. I''ll search outside the town until it''s time to leave.


    It''s so empty here. Not even the occasional lingering monster breaks up the blackness, all of them apparently having thrown themselves at us. I suppose I don''t blame them for wanting to escape somewhere like this so badly. What would they even eat? How did they survive so long in all this nothing? I wonder if their bodies were even natural anymore. They all had so many crystals growing on them you could barely find the skin¡­ or the scales or the chitin or whatever. It wasn''t just the outside, either. The crystals were growing into them, too, breaking apart the interior of their bones like a tree''s roots splitting open a rock. The poor things must have been in constant pain. Or maybe not. There were crystals growing into their brains, too.


    With something like that, it''s very easy to see why the Preservers might want people to stay out of the Dark World. At least I''m immune. Or¡­ I think I''m immune? I guess I don''t really know, but if crystals start growing on or in me I can just remove them. I don''t have an organic body that would suffer the consequences of a gaping wound when extracting something like that.


    I poke through some of the information I have on my schematics to see if I can find answers, and to my surprise I actually do. One of the main purposes behind my emotion-opaque plating is to prevent crystal propagation¡ªthey prevent my own emotions from leaking outside, but perhaps more importantly they prevent atmospheric emotions from finding their way inside. The only conductivity is within my crystal pathways, the passive emotional density of which can be manually adjusted to prevent unwanted osmosis. Only when I open my plating to deploy my thrusters am I potentially at risk of magical energy collecting inside my body and crystallizing near my soul, but there are standard maintenance practices to safely clean that kind of stuff up. And since my thrusters are designed for short bursts rather than sustained deployment, it''s unlikely to come up often.


    That''s really good to know! My body is so neat. It''s the best torture prison a girl could possibly ask for. I''m almost out of time to explore, so I''ll just wander in this direction a little longer and then¡­ oh.


    I''ve reached the edge of the fragment.


    I''m not entirely sure how it snuck up on me. I guess I was thinking about other things, but I''d assume that a void at the edge of reality is something worth keeping track of. Yet my sensors don''t really deem the area noteworthy. Visually, it looks like nothing but blackness¡ªhardly an uncommon feature in the Dark World¡ªbut the readings my other sensors get from it are¡­ odd. They detect nothing there, but not in the sense that they detect nothingness. Ahead of me isn''t a vacuum, it isn''t darkness, it is neither the presence nor absence of any natural phenomena. So when the air blows into it, it''s not reacting like air would next to a vacuum. It just blows, the most natural thing it could do, and then it does not return.


    The magical energy flows are reacting the same way. They inevitably head towards the edge, passing into it as if it were merely another part of the atmosphere. They don''t disappear, but they don''t really not disappear. My readings indicate that everything is relatively normal in that direction, that there is no sudden stop in front of me, but¡­ there is. I know there is. Nothing could be more obvious.


    I don''t think I''m going to find any artifacts here, and I''m confident enough in that to quickly rush back to the town, grab a long bit of scrap metal, and rush back to the edge of the fragment. I don''t have a lot of time to investigate this, but I''m too curious to let it go. Hesitantly, carefully, I stick the piece of metal halfway into the void.


    A sudden weight yanks at the other end, pulling it down. I stumble a little, but quickly plant my feet and hold the metal in place, refusing to drop it. I try to pull the metal back out but I can''t, not even by a single millimeter, and the weight keeps growing and growing until I don''t think I can hold on any longer. Pretty soon, it''ll weigh more than me, and I''ll be lifted off the ground to stumble right into the void myself! But with a creak and a snap, the weight suddenly vanishes. I stumble backwards, holding only the half of the metal that had not entered.


    Okay. Don''t touch the void at the edge of the world. Got it. I guess that seems kind of obvious in retrospect.


    Well, time to leave, I suppose. I guess if there''s one advantage to not finding any artifacts here, it''s that I have nothing to protect other than myself when I get ambushed by magical girls on the way out.


    My power reserves have increased to 38%.


    Oh yeah, that''s a good point. I should try to prepare for the fight by maximizing my power reserves as much as possible. I should try to put at least some of the training Nanaya gave me to use, after all. I''ve got the perfect strategy for it, too. I''ve always been a firm believer in the power of imagination, and so has my anxiety. So hey, Luna. Remember all those skulls you were smashing earlier? The way the flesh just collapsed against your knuckles, brains and guts spilling between your fingers?


    You could do that to a person. You''ll probably end up doing that to a child.


    It was so easy, wasn''t it? No need to undershoot those force calculations, no fiddling around with trying to find optimal ways to deter a target without harming it. Nothing but full physical force, directly to your weak point of choice. What if Melpomene orders you to kill someday? You''d have to. But are you really going to wait that long? It is, as it always has been, only a matter of time until you fuck up.


    My power reserves have increased to 40%. Hey, that''s pretty good.


    I step through the fog, ending back up in the liminal space and immediately looking around for Veritas and Aurora. Sure enough, they''re ready for me, at least for a certain definition of ''ready.'' Both of them are in their human forms when I walk out, though of course the moment they see me, that changes.


    "B? M? R?s????!"


    "?L?s P?????????!"


    Man, that''s bright. I''m not even looking at them. I''ve already seen them both transform anyway.


    "H??????? V??????? D??????? V?????s!"


    "L????? S????? P???????? A?????!"


    Oh boy, here we go.


    "Okay, cut it off!" Aurora commands.


    "I am, I am!" Veritas insists, leaping in front of me. With my way now barred, I settle into a combat stance. What''s it going to be this time? Another lunge? Maybe I could just jump up to the rooftops and try to go around them, but it would be easier if I could throw Veritas back into Aurora again first.


    "R??????????¡ª"


    Wait, that one''s new.


    "¡ªB??s?!"


    Despite being well outside its reach, Veritas thrusts her lance towards me, the blue glow suffusing it getting brighter and brighter until it fires towards me as a beam of destruction. I step to the side, letting it pass by and raising my metaphorical eyebrows at the readings I feel coming off of it. That''s pretty strong! Not too far behind Minerva''s lightning bolts, or at least her normal ones. Aurora tries to sweep my feet with her orbs as I dodge away, which is a good strategy, but I just backflip to avoid it. Veritas takes that opening to charge me, but I''m close enough to a wall to kick off¡ª


    Come on, I''m not letting you hit me with my own trick. I love forcing people to jump and then smacking them out of the air. I''m not gonna fall for it myself. Even if I didn''t have a wall, I could just deploy my thrusters.


    ¡ªand take advantage of her lunge to get inside her guard, like I always do. Grabbing onto both of her shoulders, I flip over her head and use the momentum to fling her into a building on the opposite side of the street. An imagined image of her skull splitting open against the brick flashes through my mind, but of course the girl is fine. Earth Guardians are sturdy. Better make sure she stays down. I point my palm at her.


    "[M ? ? ? B ? s ? ? ?]"


    Veritas yelps and hunkers behind her shield as the blue bolt of energy detonates against it. When the dust clears, she stands up, a little wobbly but clearly still in the fight. I mentally adjust the amount of power I should be using upwards. Just keep rising until she breaks.


    ¡­Alternatively, I could try to leave. As long as I make it back to our home fragment, the battle is de facto over. That seems like a better strategy. My way clear and my body under threat, I deploy my thrusters and rocket off, leaping over a building and pushing myself as quickly as I can to make distance before they recover.


    "R?????????? B??s?!"


    Oh, come on. You couldn''t hit me with that at point-blank range, you definitely aren''t going to hit me with that from all the way over there. I kick off a rooftop, once again letting the shot pass me by a hair. That''s always so fun! I get to pull off all the sick anime moves I could ask for.


    "R?????????? A?????s?!"


    It''s not going to work if you just keep¡­ wait. As I barely sidestep the shot again, I feel a secondary surge of magical energy traveling down the beam like a spark. It catches up and ignites next to me, detonating the blue line of energy in my face. The shockwave knocks me off my feet, blowing me backwards, and I only barely manage to regain control of my momentum before Veritas and both of Aurora''s orbs surround me in the air.


    I''m forced to directly push off of the side of Veritas''s lance as she thrusts it at me, which is a predictably painful experience. The whole thing is suffused with a magical intent that clearly doesn''t like me very much, and it gnaws at my shields for the fraction of a second I remain in contact with it.


    Where''s Aurora¡­ there. I wrap my legs around Veritas''s neck, deploy thrusters from my back, and perform a violent somersault, hurling her at her partner. Aurora tries her best to catch the other girl, but they still end up on the ground in a tangle of limbs.


    "Why does that thing always do that!?" Veritas shouts furiously.


    "Please get off me," Aurora''s muffled voice asks from beneath her.


    Okay, I think I can lose them now. I head for the ground, weaving between alleyways and keeping my plating firmly shut. My footsteps as light as I can make them, I break line of sight and get as much distance as I can. Veritas and Aurora quickly get up and start looking for me, but I can feel where they are without being able to see them, and they can''t do the reverse. By just keeping a building between us and doubling back into areas they think they''ve just checked, I successfully throw them off. Assuming I''m long gone, they depart.


    Good. Very good. I managed to only minimally harm them again. Now I just have to keep that up¡­ potentially forever. Ugh. Maybe if I keep helping them fight monsters they''ll eventually stop trying to take me in? That would be nice, which means it''s probably not going to happen.


    Altogether, my power reserves have been bumped back down to¡ª


    My power reserves have been reduced to 34%.


    ¡ªyes, that. Six percent just to escape from two children. Not bad, but not great. I probably could have tried breaking line of sight sooner. Oh! What if I just copy one of the movement spells I''ve seen? Anath''s Passion Step is designed for north-aligned magic, but I could design something similar. South isn''t anywhere near as good at running from things as East, but it''s not bad. Sad people need their space sometimes.


    Of course, the moment I try crafting the spell, my understanding shuts itself off. I''m not in danger anymore; my mission doesn''t benefit from my idle tweaking. Bah. Annoying. Maybe someday I''ll get to experiment with cool magic spells, but not today. Today, the chains stay tight.


    I make it back to the castle without any more trouble, wandering inside and looking around for one of the others. I find Nanaya in the kitchen, laying out cooking tools and ingredients on the counter.


    "Luna, just in time," she greets me without turning to look my way. "You may help me prepare."


    Translation: I must help her prepare. As orders go, though, I don''t really mind cooking. I move beside her and take a look at what she needs done.


    "Dice these, please," she instructs, passing me a few piles of vegetables.


    "What are we making?" I ask.


    "Arrabbiata, though I''m loading it with as many vegetables as I can get away with. Dice them finely, please, Anath won''t eat them unless they''re small enough."


    "That is a huge pot," I say, staring as she pulls out an absolute monster of metal to place on the stove.


    "Leftover pasta and sauce is easy for the others to reheat," she huffs. "If I don''t keep enough microwavable meals around, they won''t eat anything but junk."


    "Even Melpomene?" I ask.


    "Especially Melpomene. Thea mostly just doesn''t eat, and Anath will at least run over to Earth and catch a squirrel occasionally."


    "That feels vaguely cannibalistic."


    Nanaya snorts, which is about as close as she gets to a laugh. I''ll chalk that up as a win; she can be a bit difficult to talk to, most of the time.


    "How did your mission go?" she asks, changing the subject.


    "Bad, but not as bad as it could have gone," I answer. "The fragment I ended up in was a total wasteland. Massive storm, craters everywhere. There were remains of a town that I thought might have something, but I found nothing but scrap."


    "Mmm. A common occurrence. It''s rare to find even one artifact in most fragments, let alone the massive collection we gathered recently."


    "Well, that''s reassuring," I admit. "The main bad part is that I ran into Veritas and Aurora."


    "I see. How did that go?"


    "They followed me into the Dark World for a little bit, but Aurora pulled them out to wait for me at the exit. Then they tried to ambush me, so I tossed ''em around a little and gave them the slip. Done with the veggies, by the way."


    She glances over at the large pile of finely-sliced carrots, onions, peppers, tomatoes, and olives, and the separate pile of seeds from the veggies that had them. She takes them without further acknowledgment, then hands me a second pile of tomatoes.


    "I am glad the two of them did not trouble you much," Nanaya says. "How are your power reserves?"


    "No better or worse than when I started," I admit. "The main gain was having to fight kids again, but that was the main loss, too. Veritas actually tagged me with a spell, it was a bit embarrassing."


    "Mmm. You don''t like fighting Earth Guardians, I take it?" Nanaya asks casually, though an extra pulse of anger under her words almost makes me drop into a fighting stance.


    Crap. I didn''t even intend to complain there, I was just reporting my power situation. I suppose Nanaya, of all people, is not someone I need to worry about upsetting Melpomene by admitting my discontent to, but it was still very close to a failure of my directives. I can''t let that happen again.


    Well, no sense beating around the bush now. It''s just the two of us, and Nanaya definitely wouldn''t want me to lie.


    "They''re just kids," I tell her. "Of course I don''t like hurting them. I wish I didn''t have to fight at all, but especially not them. Why, is that bad?"


    "No," Nanaya says. "Apologies. I have simply known many people who would not hesitate over something so trivial as age. The experience compelled me to ask an unnecessary question."


    "Oh," I manage. That doesn''t exactly paint a pretty picture of her past. Which¡­ duh. Obvious revelations for five hundred, Alex. "I mean, it''s no big deal. Don''t worry about it. It''s not really like you to apologize."


    She stops for a moment, staring at me out of the corner of her eye for a moment before resuming her work. I pass her the diced tomatoes. She passes me yet more tomatoes. An entire grove will be going into that pot at this rate.


    "I will see about finding you things to do that lack a risk of combat," Nanaya suddenly says.


    I turn to stare at her, though my arm continues chopping at high speeds.


    "...Wait, really?" I ask. "You''d do that?"


    "I would not have said that otherwise," she frowns. "It is not terribly difficult. There are plenty of other things that need doing. Things I usually manage alone."


    "Uh, okay, yeah," I say, nodding. "I guess I''m just surprised to hear it coming from miss ''Do not fill yourself with undue hope. I consider you a tool.''"


    I play the exact sound clip of her saying those words to me, which earns me another side-eyed glare. She''s quiet for a bit, but I can tell from her churning emotions that she''s simply deciding on an answer.


    "...Melpomene was deeply foolish to bind you and bring you here, let alone treat you the way she did," Nanaya says. "To be frank, I expected you to attempt to kill her, fail, be destroyed, and ultimately teach her a lesson about trusting malicious sapient artifacts of unknown make or purpose."


    "Ouch," I answer.


    "Mmm. Frankly, I wished to push you down that path. To have your chains broken and the problem you represent removed. Better to have the bomb go off while I had my shields up, so to speak. But against all odds, it would seem you are either truly bound, or truly uninterested in harming us. There have simply been too many opportunities for betrayal to believe otherwise. Begrudgingly, I must adjust my strategy to count you as one of us."


    "Awww, thanks, Nanaya!" I coo. "That''s so sweet of you and not even a little bit sociopathic."


    She sighs.


    "I recognize that I am not what one would normally consider to be emotionally well-adjusted," Nanaya says. "I would appreciate it if you would not make humor out of it. I manage as best I can, and feel as much as I''m able."


    "Oh," I say as she starts mixing all the ingredients into the pot and heating it up. "Well, if you''re going to be all heartfelt and polite about it, I suppose my hands are tied."


    "Thank you, Luna," she says, ladling a bit of the sauce into her mouth and tasting it. "Mmm. More peppers, I think. In the fridge over there."


    She points and I go to fetch them, starting up my chop-blender once again.


    "Hey, Nanaya?" I ask.


    "Mmm?"


    "I''ve been thinking about swapping my crystal configuration to yellow, but I''m worried that burning happiness to live will make me¡­ y''know, less happy. I''m not used to feeling happy. I don''t want it to go away."


    She glances fully in my direction, raising an eyebrow at me.


    "I am a red mage," she says. "Do I not seem angry to you?"


    "...Well, when you put it that way, I guess it seems kind of silly."


    "Mmm."


    A pause.


    "Being a yellow mage is very, very difficult," Nanaya continues. "I could not do it even if I had the opportunity. But it is rewarding. I would recommend trying it, if you think you might succeed."


    I nod slowly.


    "I might do that, then. I guess we''ll see how things go."


    We work on the food for a while longer, Nanaya seasoning large globs of meat, fat, and salt before kneading them into sausage meatballs.


    "Luna," Nanaya says, and I stop working to turn to her. "Taking care of the others has become a simple ritual over the years. Make sure they eat right. Make sure they sleep well. Make sure we have light and heat and electrical appliances and enough power to keep it all running. But you don''t need food. You don''t need sleep. You don''t even need light and heat. So if there is anything you do need, please tell me plainly. If you are here to stay, then I shall make the time to ensure your stay is as pleasant as your circumstances allow."


    What? Really? I mean, what should I even ask for? Freedom? I''m not sure I can, and she couldn''t grant it anyway. But still¡­ it''s a kind gesture.


    "Thank you, Nanaya," I nod. "I''ll let you know if I think of something."


    "Mmm. It will be difficult finding work that will keep you separate from Melpomene and also minimize your chance of needing to fight, but it should be doable, if we time things well. I assume that would be preferable for you?"


    That catches me off-guard even more. I¡­ I don''t think I can say yes, but I definitely don''t want to say no.


    "I appreciate the thought you''ve put into this," I tell her as neutrally as possible. "I¡­ may have misjudged you a bit, I guess? I don''t really know what to say."


    "You need not say anything. I know there is much you cannot."


    We finish the meal together in silence, setting it to simmer while the others sleep. I''m loath to give up any opportunity to chatter for a while now, luxuriating in my ability to speak in the limited moments I have them, but this silence feels nice. Comfortable.


    I think Nanaya phrased it well. Begrudgingly, I must adjust my strategy to count myself as one of them.

 24. Breakable

    "You''re here early, Fulgora," Castalia greets me. "Or¡­ Minerva?"


    I shrug, glancing uncomfortably around the open field. It''s the sort of flat, brown grassland pervasive to the areas outside of town, where human engineering hasn''t bothered to transform the natural environment into something lush and green for the sake of aesthetics. No one is around for as far as I see, which is pretty far in clear weather like this. I feel like this is probably somebody''s property, but I have no idea what kind of person owns all the unused spaces like this.


    "I don''t know," I answer, craning my neck up to where she''s hovering overhead. "Whichever. Whoever. I don''t want to think about it. Just call me Eliza."


    It''s a familiar name, if perhaps not a perfectly accurate one.


    "Oh," Castalia says. "You''re going to have to think about it, though."


    I flinch.


    "Um, why?" I ask.


    "Because that''s how you''re going to be training," Castalia answers matter-of-factly. "You are still forbidden from assuming your incarnate forms for another week, outside of an immediate threat to your life, so the start of your training will be mental, not practical."


    "I''m fine," I insist with a scowl, rolling my recently-shot shoulder to show how easily I can ignore the pain. "I can transform whenever."


    "That is good to know," Castalia says. "Don''t."


    I want to argue with her, but I hold my tongue. This is Castalia, after all. All of this would be kind of pointless if I didn''t trust her to know what she''s doing.


    "I won''t, but transforming is the easiest way to figure out whether I''m Fulgora or Minerva," I tell her.


    "Okay. Why do you think that is?" Castalia asks.


    "Um. Because the spell makes me shout my name at the end?" I blink.


    "No. Well yes, but no. Your incarnate form is you. It is your true self. You have two, you are two. But Minerva does not stop existing when you are Fulgora, and Fulgora does not stop existing when you are Minerva. Right?"


    "Yeah, I mean, I guess that''s right," I begrudgingly admit.


    "And that is why your stone is brown," Castalia says. "If both of you are there, both of you can use it. Simultaneously."


    "Okay¡­ but if I''m not supposed to cast, what are we doing today to ''work together?'' Just talk things out?" I ask. "That¡­ I dunno, I can do that on my own time."


    But will we, though?


    "The heights of magical power come from great madness or great clarity," Castalia answers cryptically. "I would prefer to steer you towards clarity over madness."


    A little late then, aren''t you?


    "What is this, some kung-fu purity of mind stuff?" I ask.


    "Yes," Castalia answers bluntly. "Well, maybe. I do not know kung-fu. But I would not be surprised if it utilizes similar concepts."


    I sigh. I know she''s right, I don''t know why I''m being so petulant about this. I suppose I''m just frustrated. I guess that''s a good sign that I''m probably Fulgora.


    It''s not like I can''t get mad and you can''t get scared.


    Okay so I''m definitely Fulgora then. Hi, Minerva.


    Oh, yeah. Uh. Hi.


    "If it assists you with conceptualization, I do not mind if you speak out loud," Castalia offers.


    "It would not help," I insist, gritting my teeth. I can''t imagine anything more embarrassing than straight-up talking out loud to myself in front of my mentor. I may be crazy, but I don''t want to look crazy.


    Let''s at least try to do what she says, okay? It seems like the basic idea here is that we should be copiloting, right? Working together to supply emotions and use the body.


    I don''t want you using ''my body.'' And I imagine you don''t want me using yours.


    I mean, not really, but I see why we should. Our spells have different specializations. You fight up close, I fight at range. You''re aggressive, I''m defensive. You can''t deny that combining our styles and fluidly swapping as necessary would be an effective combat strategy. Plus, you know, if you hate it when I take control you can just get mad about it.


    And you can be scared that I''m not going to give you control back.


    Uh. Oh no! I guess I can! Is that a thing that can happen!?


    "How''s it going?" Castalia asks.


    "Fine," I snap at her.


    She blinks.


    "Are you angry at me because you want to be, or are you just angry?" she asks.


    I wince. She''s taking time out of her day to help and I''m just being a bitch about it. Why am I so prickly today!?


    "Sorry," I say. "I''ll do better."


    "That doesn''t answer my question," Castalia says. I stare up at her, not entirely sure where she''s going with this.


    Well, answer her!


    "I guess I''m just angry," I admit. "You haven''t done anything wrong. Interacting with Minerva just pisses me off. Which I guess is a good thing?"


    "No," Castalia says firmly. "It is not."


    I blink. Why¡­ not?


    "But¡­ I''m a red mage. Or a red-and-green mage, at least. More sources of anger means more I can draw on."


    Castalia frowns.


    "¡­Maybe I should teach more people," she mutters to herself, returning to normal volume afterwards. "I would suggest moving yourself away from that line of thinking. It is a fragile, unreliable strategy. Not necessarily a weak one, but are you truly strong if you lack governance over that strength?"


    "Lack¡­ governance?" I frown. "Like, lacking control? It''s not like I go mad with rage during fights. I''m not lashing out wildly, and Minerva isn''t even retreating pointlessly most of the time. What governance are we lacking?"


    Castalia hesitates, bobbing side to side a bit in the air as she thinks about how to answer my question.


    "...By their very nature, human emotions control human thinking," she says, answering slowly. "And by our very nature, identifying flaws in our thinking is often impossible while our thinking is still flawed. All emotions risk this trap in some form or another. Sadness leads to sloth. Rage leads to aggression. Fear leads to paranoia. Happiness leads to complacency. And if you lose yourself in these extremes, you will be powerful, but you will no longer be yourself. If your answer to needing more anger is to be angry at everything you can manage, then you will be nothing but reactionary fury. A tool to that anger, rather than a woman using anger as her tool."


    I chew on that for a bit, more than a little irritated that the strategy I''ve been running with for most of my life is apparently considered to be stupid.


    Isn''t that exactly what she''s talking about? Now you''re angry about being too angry.


    And you''re afraid of being too afraid.


    Yeah, and that means she has a point.


    I scoff, but I can''t argue that, really.


    "So what''s the alternative, then?" I ask. "I need to be angry to use anger. There''s no workaround for that."


    Castalia nods.


    "You train yourself to be selective," she says. "Discerning. Do not maintain a constant rage. You ask yourself, with your mind before your heart, should I be angry about this? Should I fuel this rage burning inside of me? And you do not let yourself say yes without the greatest of reasons."


    "Isn''t that just having less emotion, though?" I ask.


    "No. Your soul can only hold so much anger, Fulgora. So instead of being angry about everything, find the things you should be angry about and focus your rage into a honed blade. Find the things you cannot tolerate, that you cannot fathom living with the knowledge of their existence without fury in your heart, and train yourself to ignite or cool the flame as necessary. This directed anger will guide your spells with a singular purpose, granting a reliable direction to your magic that you currently lack. It will be your strength in a way that raw power cannot."


    "¡­I see," I admit. "I''m not sure I have anything like that, though. I get angry easily, but I don''t have some kind of crusade that I want to go on, or something. I just have a temper."


    "That is okay," Castalia shrugs. "This is a long-term goal. It will be very difficult for you to learn, because you have already spent your life interacting with emotions in a different way. How to think and feel is a very difficult thing to relearn. It is something to keep in mind while we do your other training, but there is other training to start with. And it is ensuring the two halves of you may work as a whole."


    "I''m not really sure how to do that either," I admit. "I mean, we can talk to each other, but I''m not really¡­ good at that. I don''t have any¡­ er, I mean, I guess I only really have one friend."


    Because Chloe is a very good friend, even if I feel like I''m not a good one in return. But I don''t want to tell Chloe about the whole ''two of me'' thing. It''s weird. Freaky. If she doesn''t take it well, I¡­ I don''t know. One friend is a lot better than zero.


    "Well, it probably starts with not being embarrassed about each other''s existence," Castalia says, unfortunately reading my emotions exactly. I''ve never been great at that either, probably due to that general lack of friends and other forms of social interaction.


    We''re not very good at a lot of things. But we can get better! We''re good at hard work, if nothing else.


    I guess.


    "How am I not supposed to be embarrassed?" I ask. "I don''t want people to know I''m crazy. It freaks me out every single time it''s brought up. I don''t want to imagine what everybody else thinks."


    Castalia tilts her head.


    "You¡­ aren''t crazy, though?" she says like it''s the most obvious thing in the world. Which¡­ what?


    "I literally have an imaginary person in my head who keeps talking to me," I remind her.


    Rude.


    "Minerva is not imaginary," Castalia says. "Neither is Fulgora. I have spoken with both of you."


    "You know what I mean."


    "No, I do not," she insists. "To be ''crazy'' is to insist on a reality which demonstrably does not exist. It is to lack some fundamental capacity of logical thought in such a manner that nonsensical conclusions are drawn from reasonable evidence. You do not exhibit any of these traits. On the contrary, it would, in fact, be a minor act of insanity for a person to fail to recognize that the nature of your mind is different in a manner that does no harm to anyone, and that therefore there is no problem to be solved or madness to be addressed. The presence of two kind people working their hardest to protect others is undoubtedly better than one."


    By the time she''s done speaking I''m churning with half a dozen different emotions that I''m struggling to identify, which I suppose is all the more evidence that I need all this new training. Emotional awareness is the bare basics, for fuck''s sake. But still, what do I say to that? How do I respond to something so¡­ absurd?


    "But are we two people though?" I ask. "Can we really, actually be two people if we only get one body at a time? If there''s only one individual physically walking around, doing things, talking to people? We share a head, we share memories, we''re not that different at the end of the day. Isn''t the mere fact that we consider ourselves to be two different people a failure to recognize reality?"


    Castalia stares at me.


    "I don''t know," she says. "Does it matter?"


    "Wh¡­ yes!" I insist.


    "Okay," she shrugs with the one shoulder capable of it. "Then define ''person.''"


    "Wha¡ªI don''t¡­ I don''t know!"


    "Then that is the source of your confusion," Castalia answers. "If you choose to include the stipulation that a singular person requires an independent body, then no you would not be different people, but there is nothing that requires such a definition in the first place. Personhood is not an objective concept, but a societal one that is open to interpretation. I think you are correct that many individuals will disagree with your definition, but that does not make them better at observing reality than you. In many cases, I believe it would make them worse at it."


    I have to say, it is really funny watching you flounder around in this conversation with her. I wonder what she''s majoring in in college. Psychology? Anthropology?


    How should I know?


    Ask her!


    What? No!


    Ask her, darn it!


    "¡­What are you majoring in college?" I ask begrudgingly. Castalia responds with a blank stare.


    "Why did you ask me that?" she questions.


    "I didn''t want to! Minerva kept bugging me about it."


    "Oh. Good. Good job," Castalia nods approvingly. "I have not decided on a major yet. I am taking lots of different classes and trying to find the ones I like the best. It is difficult because I did not go to high school."


    The training continues, and it remains the weirdest training I have ever done until Castalia and I leave and set a new time for tomorrow. The rest of the week is full of meditative exercises that don''t feel helpful, plus awkward conversations with the person I most respect and some weirdo in my head. It''s not that bad, though. Castalia is¡­ a very focused individual, and her teaching mostly boils down to telling me stuff and hoping I figure it out, but it''s not like I think she''s wasting my time.


    "Your incarnate form is still off-limits," Castalia tells me as we near the end of the week, "but I believe it is time that we move onto practical casting."


    "Like, as a human?" I ask, frowning. "I mean, I don''t really have much magical power like this, but I can try."


    Castalia scrunches her eyebrows together.


    "...Why would you think that?" she asks. "Your emotions are the same, and your soul is the same, in all your forms. The raw power you possess is not altered, only the method of use. The transformation stone is a tool to make casting easier, more thoughtless."


    I¡­ huh. I mean yeah, I guess I knew that, I just never really thought about it. Objectively, there''s no difference in the sheer amount of magical power I have access to, I just¡­ I dunno. It feels like sucking a thick milkshake up through a thin straw.


    "How does that¡­ work, exactly?" I ask.


    Castalia hums.


    "Exactly? I do not know. I believe it calculates and creates spells for us. Casting without a spell to help is difficult. Inefficient. But it can be made more efficient, with practice."


    "Huh. Is there a point? Beyond just being able to cast spells outside of incarnate forms better, I mean."


    "It will help you understand magic better, I think?" Castalia says hesitantly. "It helped me. And when you understand better, you can use it better."


    "Hmm. Well, if you say so."


    The week passes before I know it. I feel¡­ better. A lot better. I hate to admit it, but maybe I did need some rest.


    I''m glad we at least had something to do during our rest.


    Yeah. Waiting is the bad part. The restlessness and having nothing to do¡­ I can''t stand it. Castalia gave me a lot of training exercises that I could do on my own, a lot of it stuff that I already knew about and just¡­ hadn''t been doing. But some of it was new.


    And we talked some!


    Yeah. We talked a little. Probably not as much as we should have.


    Well, there''s not a whole lot to talk about. It''s not like we can keep secrets from each other. It''s really more like¡­ cooperative introspection.


    Which we probably need to do more of.


    Oh yeah, for sure. Introspection kinda stinks, though.


    It''s the worst.


    Oh, we''re almost there. I guess¡­ I should probably take point for this?


    They''re your team, not mine.


    If you insist, then sure.


    I make it to the entrance to Guardian headquarters and head through the wall, finding myself in the usual teleporter room. There''s no sign here of the damage from before, but construction is still ongoing throughout most of the base. They just prioritized the entry area and the living spaces so Veritas and Amaterasu would have somewhere to stay. Although apparently Amaterasu is still staying with Aurora''s family? I''ve never really met them before, but apparently they''re quite nice.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡­I should meet them.


    What? No! Bad idea!


    We need to meet them! We''re responsible for the safety of their daughter, it''s weird that we haven''t met them, isn''t it?


    What the hell are we going to say to them? Hey, sorry, I know I let my last team die, but your kid is definitely safe this time around, trust me!


    I mean, we don''t¡­ have to get into that. It''s just the right thing to do, isn''t it? It might help them feel better to have a face to associate with the name.


    Only if we successfully reassure them, and I don''t know about you but I don''t think we have a very reassuring presence. Everyone around us just seems to be worried about us all the time.


    That''s¡­ a fair point, I guess. But we can become more reassuring, and then meet them! I''m sure Aurora would like it, too.


    Speaking of¡­


    Ah, there she is!


    "Aurora!" I wave at her, seeing her chatting with Uma''tama down the hall. "Hey!"


    She turns around, spots me, and brightens up.


    "Minerva! Hey!" she greets me. "Hehe! It feels like it''s been so long!"


    "Two weeks is a long time!" I answer.


    It''s not THAT long.


    Oh, shoosh.


    "I guess so!" Aurora agrees. "A lot happened!"


    "Welcome back, Minerva!" Uma''tama waves at me, bobbing closer. "Er, is Minerva right? You don''t often walk in here outside of your incarnate form."


    "Yeah, Minerva is right," I confirm. "Heh, I guess I''ve been so used to ignoring the urge to shift that I did it today, too. It feels kind of weird towering over you like this."


    "Then shrink back down, dummy!" Aurora laughs.


    "Yeah," I agree. "I guess I should."


    I take a deep breath. I can''t remember the last time it''s been so long since I got to be me.


    "O??? A????, I F????."


    I''m so used to the sensation of transforming that I tend to not pay too much attention to it. As the light falls over my body and pulls me away, my sensations pour from my weak, uncomfortable flesh into my true form. My human self curls up in the back of my mind, sleeping inside my soul as I drop into my correct size and shape. My outfit manifests around me, snug and soft against my skin barring the skirt that I love but Fulgora would never wear.


    "B???? P?????ss D?????? M??????."


    I open my eyes, and my teammate smiles at me from eye level, my equal despite our differences in experience. As it should be.


    "It''s great to see you again!" Aurora says, radiating warmth like always. "Veritas has really missed you, you know. She''ll try not to show it, but¡­ well, that''s how she is."


    "I still owe her a proper apology," I admit. "Though I''m not entirely sure what for."


    "For being an idiot!" Veritas snaps from behind me, and I jolt in surprise to see her walking out of a nearby room. "And apparently for talking about me when I''m not around!"


    "Hehe, whoops!" Aurora giggles unrepentantly.


    "...You totally knew she was there," I accuse.


    "I assumed you could sense her!" she lies. "Anyway, you were saying?"


    I sigh, turning around to face my other teammate. The one I thought was the bigger troublemaker.


    "Veritas, I am sorry for¡­ being an idiot. And talking about you when I thought you weren''t around," I tell her as honestly as I can manage. She squirms a bit.


    "...Just promise not to say stuff like you did before," she mutters.


    Uh. What did we say before¡­?


    Are you kidding? Why would I have any idea? We were so fucking out of it back then.


    "She means calling yourself a bad leader," Aurora says. "And that we shouldn''t be ''stuck with you.''"


    "Wha¡­?" I blink. "But¡ª"


    "Ah!" Aurora cuts me off, shaking a finger at me. "No buts! Veritas told you to promise!"


    Ack.


    We DO suck as a leader, though. They just don''t know any better because they''ve never had anyone else.


    Oh. Maybe that''s the problem.


    Huh? You mean¡­


    Veritas doesn''t have anyone else. No parents, no siblings¡­ I''m not sure about her extended family, but she certainly hasn''t mentioned any of that either. All she has is Uma''tama and the other Earth Guardians.


    Oh god, we ARE stupid. She''s a blue mage, of course she has abandonment issues! She''s just so grumpy all the time, I thought she didn''t like us. And I don''t really blame her for not liking us!


    Yeah¡­ we''ve gotta live up to it now, though. Be worthy of it.


    That''s gonna fail.


    Maybe. We should still try.


    "...I promise I won''t say stuff like that again," I say. "Sorry, Veritas. Your leader is back. So¡­ how did you two do without me?"


    "I think we did pretty great!" Aurora nods, smugly putting her hands on her hips. "No major issues! We even took care of a swarm without you!"


    A swarm!? Just thinking about the two of them in a swarm by themselves makes my heart race in terror. Monsters aren''t that dangerous on their own, but when a dozen of them are all trying to kill you at once, even tiny mistakes can become deadly very fast.


    "That''s¡­ impressive," I admit. "Though for things like that you should probably call in assistance."


    "Well, I would have if I could have," Aurora frowns. "There were three different portals opening all at once that day, so Su-san was busy. And¡­ well, we did technically have a bit of help."


    "...You did?" I ask.


    "The humanoid artifact showed up again," Uma''tama answers for them. "And apparently it fought off the monsters."


    That combat robot? Really!?


    "It was kind of eerie," Aurora frowns. "It was already battling the monsters when we showed up, and it just¡­ ignored us. Worked together with us, if anything. And then when the swarm was over it walked off into the Dark World. Veritas chased after it¡ª"


    "Veritas!" I gape at her.


    "What!?" she pouts. "We''d just dealt with a whole swarm! There weren''t any monsters left in there."


    "...Yeah, um, I went in to drag her back out, but we were fine. The robot didn''t even fight us until we got in its way, and it was pretty obviously programmed to fight¡­ differently against us. It didn''t hurt us, it just, uh, tossed us away and kept going. We waited for it to come back out of the portal, but it didn''t bring anything else with it and it ended up escaping before we could capture it."


    "But it didn''t hurt you?" I press.


    "No, even though it totally could have," Veritas pouts, not seeming to like admitting it. "The way it fought the monsters was completely different from the way it fought us."


    "That''s terrifying," I admit. "I wonder what it was doing in the Dark World. Maybe it was looking for other artifacts and just didn''t find any?"


    "It''s possible," Uma''tama nods. "We can''t rule out the idea that the Corrupted might have some ulterior motive, but¡­ I think this is a good sign. They are former Earth Guardians, after all. If they''re making sure their tools hunt monsters and don''t hurt people, then they must still mostly be themselves. That''s quite a relief."


    "I suppose so," I answer noncommittally. Personally, I''m not so sure that those witches are acting out of altruism. Anath is obviously a little crazy, and that red mage healer straight-up threatened to murder me. Their fear mage didn''t exactly seem emotionally stable either, though I guess she wasn''t as bad as the others. And Melpomene herself¡­ I have to suppress a shudder just thinking about it. Either way, they''re already half monster, if not more. Who knows what they could be thinking?


    "Provisionally," Uma''tama says slowly, "we''ve been considering authorizing Dark World excursions to a limited degree. We believe the three of you are ready, and it would help a lot with confirming whether or not a given portal is an outstanding threat."


    "Really!?" Veritas asks, excited as usual to be given a little extra responsibility.


    "Yes, really," Uma''tama confirms. "There will be strict limits on the times and places we deem it safe to do these sorts of missions, but since the Corrupted are clearly accelerating their plans to hunt for artifacts, we need to be able to beat them to it. It''s dangerous for Amaterasu to enter the Dark World, so the duty falls to you three."


    "Why is it dangerous for Su-san?" Aurora asks.


    "Dark World corruption seems to occur much more quickly on older humans," Uma''tama says. "We aren''t entirely sure why, so we want regular reports from all three of you. Minerva, you especially. We don''t know if the age of your incarnate form will confer you similar protection, and if it doesn''t then we need to know immediately."


    "It''s been a long time since I''ve been to the Dark World, hasn''t it?" I hum. I suppose if I''m being technical, ''I'' have arguably never been to the Dark World. We only had one incarnate form back then, so even though it feels like I did those things, whether or not that was actually me is open to interpretation.


    Let''s just not think about it.


    Agreed. It''s not worth fretting over.


    Heh. Taking our mentor''s teachings to heart, are you?


    Of course. And unlike you, I think I have something else worth focusing my emotion towards.


    We glance towards Veritas and Aurora, the former bothering Uma''tama with all sorts of questions about the Dark World while the latter is just happy to watch. Their safety is the most important thing. If there''s one thing I should be focusing my fear towards, it''s protecting them. Every attack is to put down a threat to their lives. Every defense is so that I can keep watching over them forever. Their safety is the singular fear that should bloom in my soul when we fight. Everything else is secondary, so when the fight ends I can let that fear fade away.


    Damn, yeah. That works. I''m still not sure what single thing I should be angry about. I thought about just being pissed at myself, but I don''t think I''m really worth all that effort.


    Yeah, nothing else really comes to mind for me either. But like Castalia said, it''s a long-term goal. We don''t have to figure it out right away.


    I do if I don''t want you getting a head start on me.


    "Anyway," Uma''tama says loudly, interrupting Veritas''s next question. "That will not be the focus of your mission today. As you know, a portal is expected to open in the town shortly. It''s just a standard mission, everyone. Perfect to warm your leader back up after her break."


    "Not that I need it," I half-joke.


    "Hehe! Well, you do seem a lot more relaxed than usual, Minerva," Aurora grins. "It''s nice!"


    I blink. Do I really? Is she just saying that? I don''t know if I should be relaxed before a mission. I guess I don''t feel as tired as I normally do, and nothing is aching like it usually does. It''s not like those things are a big deal, though.


    "Well, I guess that''s good?" I hedge. "I mean, supposedly that''s what breaks are supposed to do!"


    "Indeed," Uma''tama nods in agreement, "you do seem a lot better, Minerva. I''m very happy for you."


    "Oh! Uh, okay?" I manage, not really sure what to say.


    "Aurora and I have gotten way stronger, too!" Veritas insists. "We can hold our incarnate forms for so much longer! You''re gonna be super surprised when you see us fight!"


    "I''m sure I will," I smile at her. "But no showboating, okay? You don''t have to show off for me to see your strength."


    "O-oh! Yeah, I promise!" Veritas agrees, blushing for¡­ some reason? Embarrassment? Surprise? Aurora also looks surprised, but neither of them seem upset. What did I do?


    I don''t know. We smiled at them, I guess?


    What? That shouldn''t be surprising. I smile sometimes. I smile a lot of the time! I think!


    Eh, not like that. I mean, normally we''d get a little exasperated if Veritas started bragging about being stronger. Usually that just means she''s about to do something stupid.


    Well, I don''t know. It seemed more believable this time. And besides, I haven''t seen either of these two in a while. I really missed them!


    Oh, that''s probably it.


    What? Wait, why wouldn''t they think I''d miss them?


    Because this entire team thing was an obligation neither of us wanted and neither of them are clueless? Like, they can literally read emotions. I know we did our best, and I know you felt like you had to do this, but we never deluded ourselves into thinking it was a good idea. It was just the only option available. Looking forward to coming back to the team¡­ I mean, that is really weird. Why wouldn''t it be?


    My feelings on whether or not I should be part of the team doesn''t affect whether I like the people on it!


    "Minerva?"


    "Huh?" I jolt.


    "We think it''s about time to head out," Uma''tama tells me. "We believe you should be able to navigate there yourself, but be sure to let us know if that isn''t the case."


    "Oh! Uh, no, I got it," I assure them. "Earth Guardians, let''s move!"


    We head back to the teleporter room, return to the city, and take to the skies, one teammate clasped in each arm like usual. Even though they''ve only been Earth Guardians for less than a year, the two of them are probably still stronger than most any child their age in human form. Certainly not enough to catch a bullet, though. I still can''t believe I kinda did that.


    I wonder what it is about magic that makes it so¡­ intrinsically transformative. Between the monsters, the witches, our bodies, and the transformation stones themselves, it seems very common. It''s almost poetic, in a way. Magic is shaped by our emotions, and in turn, magic shapes us. Castalia was right. Our feelings can control us in very real yet subtle ways. If I don''t pay attention to them I won''t be able to see what they''re doing to me.


    We make it to the liminal space quickly enough, Veritas and Aurora transforming in my grip as we approach the portal. I can already tell there are going to be monsters there. It figures that my first mission after coming back will turn out to be a fight, but it''s not like that''s unexpected. Fighting is what we do.


    Ready to try this out, short stuff?


    Ready.


    We crest over the last set of buildings before the portal, monsters scrabbling up the walls in a desperate attempt to be the first to reach us. I toss Veritas and Aurora into position and summon my incarnate weapon.


    See that slobbering bastard right there?


    Yep. I aim my staff.


    Fuck that guy in particular.


    "F???????? T??????!"


    Intertwining bolts of red and green erupt from my weapon, snaking around each other in the brief moment before they impact our target. The monster explodes, detonating in an overloaded burst of magic that flattens some of the other beasts nearby.


    Holy shit!


    I mean, Castalia did say it should be about twice as powerful.


    Yeah, but still! Holy shit!


    I guess I can''t really¡ªah!


    "F???????? T??????!"


    I shout out another spell as a monster leaps towards Veritas''s blind spot, and this time the bolt is merely its usual green. More than enough to take the monster out before it can hurt my teammate, but not the crazy amount of power from before.


    I guess the casting time could use some work. I wasn''t ready for that one.


    Well, we just have to practice. We already live in the same head, how hard could coordination be?


    Yeah, because I''m so famously good at working well with others.


    Still, we continue the fight. Veritas and Aurora weren''t kidding; they have gotten a lot stronger in the time we''ve been apart, and they''ve especially gotten better at working together. Sometimes, Aurora shouts out an order for Veritas to follow, usually followed by an embarrassed glance towards me, but I don''t really mind. Her callouts are all pretty smart, and Veritas usually responds to them without hesitation. The two of them have improved their coordination a lot. I won''t let them outpace me.


    In addition to the challenge of synchronizing our wills to cast the spells together at all, the increased power can be a bit unwieldy at times. Fulgora''s anger is wild, aggressive as most anger is, and while that''s great for damage output it''s not the best in terms of precision. I''m used to my ranged attacks going well out of their way to avoid my teammates without me even having to think about them; with the fear of hurting them baked into the very foundations of the spell, it would be difficult to strike them even if I was trying to. Fulgora''s anger has no such safety, and while I never actually hit one of my teammates I definitely get too close for comfort more than once. Overall, I''m a little dissatisfied with my performance, but for the first time in a long time I can clearly see so many different places where I know exactly what I need to do to improve. I''m working with tangible goals for what feels like the first time in forever, and it feels great.


    I should have asked Castalia to train me ages ago. We could have had all this power the entire time if we just took our heads out of our own asses. Imagine how differently things could have gone.


    Honestly? I''d rather not. It doesn''t seem like something I should worry over, and it doesn''t seem like something you should be angry about. Right?


    ¡­I guess.


    "That was awesome, Minerva!" Veritas gushes at me after the fight. "Did you see the size of that crater you made!? I didn''t know you could do that!"


    "I figured a few things out while I was resting," I shrug. It''s nothing worth getting excited over yet. We still have a long way to go.


    "You mean figured stuff out while you were supposed to be resting," Aurora accuses, poking me in the cheek. "You''re like my big brother. Work, work, work, work, work, work, work. He won''t even stop checking emails when he''s home for Christmas break!"


    "Hey, I didn''t transform or fight anything for two weeks!" I defend myself. "That is not doing any work."


    "That''s basically what my brother says about emails!"


    I laugh, not really sure how else to handle the situation. I guess this is a good time to ask her, though.


    "Speaking of your family, Aurora, I was wondering if they might want to meet me sometime? Or if you might want me to meet them? I mean, you talk about them a lot, and it just seems weird for me to not¡ª"


    "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" Aurora interrupts me excitedly. "Yeah, oh my gosh, they would love to meet you! Are you free tonight? Wait, no, Mom will want to make you dinner. What about this weekend?"


    "Oh! Uh, this weekend works great!?" I squeak, not at all being prepared for that to happen so soon. "I kind of had plans for tonight anyway."


    "Yeah, okay! I''ll see you Saturday then! I mean, I''ll probably see you a bunch before Saturday, and I guess maybe it won''t be Saturday ''cause I''ll have to ask my mom, but she''s already cooking a big thing for church on Sunday so she''s probably not gonna want to cook for you again in the evening but she might just make extra I don''t know!"


    I blink.


    "Uh, yeah!" I agree awkwardly. The three of us make our way to the edge of the liminal space, stopping awkwardly before the transition to Earth. "Well, that''s mission complete. I''ll see you both tomorrow, probably."


    "See you then!" Aurora waves emphatically.


    "Bye, Minerva!" Veritas agrees, also smiling for once. I smile back.


    "You two both did great today. Thanks for working so hard while I was away."


    "Yeah!"


    "Of course!"


    We go our separate ways, transitioning back into human forms as we step through to Earth. It''s a little uncomfortable being so tall again, but I push the feelings aside and pull out my phone, sending a text to Chloe to inform her I''m on my way. The two of us agreed to get lunch together again at that quiet little mom-and-pop place she likes so much.


    "Eliza! Hi!" she waves at me when I walk in. She''s already at a table, because of course she got here way before I did. "How did it go?"


    "Really well," I answer. "Veritas and Aurora have grown a lot."


    "Uh, yeah," Chloe nods. She always gets a little evasive and weirdly upset when I talk about them, but she''s the one who asked. As usual, though, she bounces back fast. "Anyway! I was wondering if you''ve decided to stay on or off campus yet."


    Oh right, that.


    "Uh, honestly I completely forgot to think about it," I admit. Thinking about college mostly just makes me sad, and that''s not one of my emotions.


    "I figured that might be the case!" Chloe shrugs it off easily. "That''s why we''re gonna decide today!"


    I scratch the back of my head, not really sure what to say.


    "I mean, the dorms are normally for people from out of state, right? We might not even get approved for one?"


    "Well, kind of," Chloe agrees hesitantly. "But you know that you''ll get approved if you apply, right?"


    I frown.


    "What do you mean?" I ask.


    "¡­Eliza, the school knows who you are," she says. "Our school definitely knows, and they probably sent the college a little note along with your transcripts. If you want to live on campus, you''ll be at the top of the list for local kids getting dorms. Maybe the top of the out-of-state list, too."


    I stare at her, resisting the urge to squirm in my seat.


    "Why¡­?" I ask. "I''m awful at school. I''m probably going to be awful at college."


    "Um, well, most Earth Guardians never go to college, you know? They don''t¡­ make it that long."


    I narrow my eyebrows.


    "You think I don''t know that?" I frown.


    "I think you probably don''t understand how the rest of the world sees you, Eliza," she says. "I know being a magical child soldier is normal to you, but for the rest of us it''s¡­ I mean, we as a society kind of¡­"


    She flails her hands around a little, trying to gesticulate meaning where words seem to be failing her. But I can feel her emotions when I''m looking for them. And one stands out above all the rest.


    "You''re ashamed of us?" I ask.


    "What!? No, Eliza, we''re ashamed of ourselves. Ashamed of letting aliens pick children to fight for us. Ashamed that we''re all so scared of dying that we let you do this at all!"


    "You''re not letting me do anything," I remind her. "I chose this. We all did."


    "I don''t think¡­ no. I''m sorry, Eliza, this isn''t what I wanted to talk about today. I just wanted to ask if you''d be interested in rooming with me. My dad''s really pushing me to live on campus. He thinks I''m doting on him too much. And, you know, I just¡­ if I have to room with someone, I''d love for it to be you!"


    I blink, caught off guard by the sudden topic change since I''m still kind of upset about it.


    Not worth being angry about, right?


    Right.


    "Well, uh, sure, I guess?" I agree, thinking about the decision only after I actually made it. "I do feel a little bad for imposing on my brother all the time. And it would be nice to live with another girl for once. And I wouldn''t have to take the bus. ¡­Or fly, I guess."


    She laughs a little at that, and I smile back. It''s impressive how fast she returns to being upbeat after stuff like this. Maybe she''d make a good yellow mage after all.


    "It''s settled, then!" she grins. "You''ll just have to apply with me. I''ve got it all set up on my laptop, though, don''t worry. This is gonna be awesome! I''m looking forward to living with another girl, too!"


    "Heh. Yeah, I guess we were kinda both raised by nothing but one sweaty dude," I smile. "Maybe that''s why we get along so well."


    "Well, you''re the only one who actually acts like you were raised by one sweaty dude," Chloe smirks, prodding my combat boots under the table. "You''ve shot well past tomboy and straight to butch."


    "¡­I thought we established that I''m not a lesbian," I complain halfheartedly.


    "You don''t have to be a lesbian to be butch! It just helps!"


    That gets a chuckle out of me, though I do feel a bit of discomfort as I look down at my outfit.


    "This is really more of a Fulgora thing, though," I say. "She''s pretty much always the one handling our outfits in human form."


    Chloe blinks at me.


    "What?" she asks.


    Nice going, dumbass.


    "Oh! Crap, uh¡­ pretend you didn''t hear that?"


    I give her my nicest smile. She stares at me.


    "No?"


    Yeah, I didn''t really think that would work.

 25. Good Friends

    Crap crap crap crap crap. My only friend is going to think I''m crazy!


    We are crazy.


    Yeah but we don''t want her to think that! A-and Castalia says we''re not crazy!


    Well, you need to say something because one way or the other that ship is sailing fast.


    "I-I-It''s kind of personal!?" I stammer at Chloe. "I''d rather not, um¡­ I don''t really know how to¡­ can we just drop it?"


    Chloe stares at me with a serious expression on her face, taking a painful amount of time to decide on her answer. This is it. It was nice for a while, I guess.


    "...Normally I''d be happy to drop it," Chloe says. "If anyone else asked me to, I would. But¡­ as your friend, I think you have a recurring problem with not talking to people about important things in your life? And I''m¡­ worried about that, to a degree that I think I''d be failing you as a friend if I didn''t push you a little outside your comfort zone. Is that¡­ okay? Do you think I''m stepping over a line here?"


    Ugh. She always makes it sound so reasonable. Make her fuck off.


    What!? No!


    I don''t wanna tell her! You don''t wanna tell her! Don''t fucking tell her!


    Well maybe she sounds reasonable because she has a point! Maybe she should be worried about us!


    Maybe that''s the problem! We''re not worth being worried over, Minerva! She has better things to do with her time and her life than getting involved with mine!


    Oh. Oh, we''re not scared of her thinking we''re crazy at all, are we?


    Of course we are! Wait, don''t you fucking dare¡ª


    "You''re right," I blurt while I still have the courage to. "You''re right, it''s¡­ we have a problem. We have a lot of problems. I just don''t want to make them your problems."


    Chloe gives me a soft smile.


    "Well, I''m¡­ sort of meddlesome by nature," Chloe smiles softly. "I appreciate you trying to look out for me, but I''d really like to help if you''ll let me. I can''t promise I won''t worry about it if you don''t."


    Ugh, damn it! Why''d you tell her? Now she''s being manipulative.


    She''s being honest and heartfelt.


    I know! She can do both! And it''ll work on us every time. It''s bullshit.


    "Um¡­ I''m not really sure what to say," I admit.


    "Well¡­ okay. I was under the impression that you are Fulgora. But the way you spoke indicated that she''s¡­ not you."


    "I guess," I admit.


    "Is that¡­ a function of your gem thingy?" Chloe asks. "Are you getting possessed when you fight?"


    Ha! Kind of.


    "What!? No!" I insist. "No, that''s not how they work. It''s just¡­ you know how I said I''m Fulgora and Minerva? That''s¡­ not normal. I''m not normal. Uh, even by magical girl standards, I guess. And that''s still how it is even when I''m not transformed. There''s just more than one person in my head."


    "Oh," Chloe says, relaxing slightly. "Okay, so it''s just¡­ okay. That makes sense."


    What?


    "It¡­ does?" I ask.


    "Er, sorry, that came out wrong," Chloe laughs. "I just¡­ I was worried about something completely different, I guess, but it''s just more cPTSD symptoms. I-I mean, not that that isn''t bad, it''s just¡­ better than an entirely new problem, I guess."


    Huh? What?


    That''s what I said!


    "...I''m a PTSD symptom?" I ask. "Wait, you think I have PTSD?"


    "Wh¡ªyeah I think you have PTSD, Eliza! Of course I think you have PTSD! Our therapy dog thinks you have PTSD. You''re literally a child soldier!"


    "I¡­ I''m fine, though?"


    "Eliza, I say this as your friend who cares about you and respects you very much, but you are the least fine human being I''ve ever met in my entire life. And that''s saying something!"


    ¡­Well damn.


    "I, uh, don''t really know what to say to that," I admit. "I''m sorry I''m such a mess, I guess? What''s that you were saying about PTSD symptoms, though?"


    "Oh, it''s just¡­ well, I''m pretty familiar with the signs and symptoms, and I''ve done a lot of research on it because I wanted to make sure I could help my dad and not mess anything up, you know? My dad doesn''t have Dissociative Identity Disorder, but I made sure to look stuff up about it just in case. It''s often, but not necessarily, a result of consistent developmental trauma. Which, y''know, you have in spades. That''s a big part of why I originally reached out to you. You remind me of my dad."


    I frown.


    "You started reaching out to me years ago."


    "I mean¡­ yeah? What, do you think your nonstop state of fight-or-flight is a recent thing?"


    "I just¡­ is that¡­ is that why we''re friends!?" I ask desperately.


    I knew it. She pities us. Like we''re some injured stray cat!


    No. Calm down. Let her answer.


    Calm down!? Why the hell should I calm down!?


    Fulgora''s rage¡ªand her fear¡ªinevitably bleeds into me. It''s not¡­ I mean it''s not the worst thing in the world if she just considers me a charity case, right? A bit of a waste of her time, but not the end of the world. I''d certainly feel hurt¡ªI was hoping she genuinely liked me¡ªbut it''s nothing I can''t handle. The worst case scenario isn''t worth spiraling over.


    "What!?" Chloe gapes. "Eliza, no! It''s why I reached out to you before I ever knew you. We''re friends because once I got to knew you, I liked hanging out with you!"


    Liar liar liar liar.


    "Wh-why?" I ask. "I don''t really¡­ do much. I don''t have any hobbies, I don''t have a fashion sense, I''m not good at anything other than fighting¡­ you mostly just drag me around with you to do things you like, and I mean¡­ that''s fine, I like doing that with you, but you don''t really need me for any of it. I''m just¡­ tagging along."


    "I¡­" Chloe blinks. "I don''t¡­ agree with that? I''ve never thought of you as just ''tagging along.'' I''ve always worried I was pulling you along to places you never even wanted to go! You cancel a lot, but I know you''re busy, and you never cancel very consistently so I was hoping that''s all there was to it, and I just¡­ I wouldn''t go to all this effort if I didn''t enjoy your company!"


    "I¡­ I''m really sorry I take so much effort to hang out with! I don''t mean to cancel so much, I¡ª"


    "Eliza, that is not the takeaway here!" Chloe cuts me off. "Oh my god, girl! I like you! Do you see me hanging out with anyone else!?"


    I blink, hesitating at the question.


    "...Don''t you have tons of other friends?" I ask.


    "Wh¡­ no!?" Chloe says. "You''re my best friend, Eliza! I don''t have anyone to hang out with other than you and my dad. I''ve kinda had to take care of him for most of my life, so I haven''t really had a lot of time until recently. Everyone else has their own friend groups and cliques and I just¡­ have you. Don''t you dare act like you aren''t a good friend!"


    "But¡­ but what do I actually do that makes me a good friend?" I ask.


    "I don''t know, we hang out together!" Chloe groans. "This doesn''t have to be so complicated! I enjoy your company. You let me drag you out to all sorts of places I''d be embarrassed to go alone, and you listen to all my rambling complaints, and you just¡­ you like being around me! And I like being around you! Does it really have to be anything more than that?"


    Yes? No? Maybe? It feels like it does! And yet, she''s right. I like being around her. I''m scared she doesn''t feel the same way, but she says she does, and shouldn''t I trust her? She''s my friend.


    "S-sorry," I manage. "Sorry. I didn''t mean to make a big deal out of this. I like hanging out with you a lot."


    "Likewise," Chloe smiles. "So! Do you wanna talk about the whole¡­ ''two of you'' thing?"


    "Not¡­ really," I answer. "I mean, it''s weird, but it''s not that complicated. I''m Minerva, sometimes Fulgora takes over, but we''re both Eliza. It''s not like I''m going to forget this conversation if she starts using the body. You can just treat us like you always do."


    ''We''re both Eliza.'' Sure. Why not?


    We both answer to the name ''Eliza.'' That''s enough, right?


    I dunno. I guess so. It''s fine as answers go either way; I don''t want her to start calling us Minerva and Fulgora while we''re in civies. It would feel so weird.


    Oh, hard agree.


    "Oh! Well, that''s good to know," Chloe says. "Sometimes dissociative disorders like this do cause memory problems, so it''s reassuring that it isn''t as much of an issue for you."


    I wince.


    "Can we not call it a ''disorder?'' I know it''s technically correct, I just¡­"


    "Oh! Oh, sure, no problem," Chloe nods. "Sorry for uh, forcing the conversation into something so heavy. I''m glad we cleared the air on all that, though!"


    "...Yeah," I agree.


    I guess it''s nice to know that we won''t chase off our only friend.


    I suppose, in retrospect, if she was going to be upset by the revelation that we have serious issues she would have done it by now.


    Ha! True enough. Oh, we should probably order something to eat, right? Let''s see¡­ I''m pretty hungry. Chicken fried chicken?


    As opposed to what? Sure, why not. I''m exhausted after all that, you can pick whatever you want.


    "Shouldn''t it be called chicken fried steak fried chicken?" I muse.


    "...What?" Chloe blinks at me.


    "Chicken fried chicken," I clarify. "It''s different from regular fried chicken¡­ somehow. Presumably it''s made in the same way chicken fried steak is made, which itself is different from how normal fried chicken is made. So chicken fried chicken isn''t actually fried like chicken, it''s fried like chicken fried steak. Hence, chicken fried steak fried chicken."


    She stares at me for a moment, and then a laugh bursts out of her all at once, sudden to arrive and quick to recover from. She smirks at me.


    "I dare you to actually call it ''chicken fried steak fried chicken'' when the waitress comes to take our order," she says.


    Like I would!? Oh my god, I''m already mortified just from thinking about it.


    Do it anyway.


    Why!?


    Why not? Chloe laughed, so it''s funny.


    Hmm. I¡­ guess?


    "Uh¡­ you know what, bet accepted," I tell her, already regretting it but committed to the joke. "What do I get for winning it?"


    "A happy college roommate, I guess," Chloe answers. "It won''t be long before summer is over. Living with you is going to be interesting, I can already tell."


    "My life is many things, but it''s not boring," I agree. "I''m¡­ looking forward to it, Chloe. Thanks for putting up with me."


    "Hey, none of that kind of talk!" Chloe insists. "My friend is pretty cool. I won''t have you bashing her."


    "...Thanks," I sigh. This is something, isn''t it? This is something good. Something for Eliza, rather than just Minerva and Fulgora. Something to make me think I might still be human. It doesn''t feel quite right, but¡­ it''s not unpleasant.


    We have a good friend.


    Yeah. We do.


    - - -


    "Oh my gosh! Check this out, everybody! Come on, come on, come on!"


    With an irritated grunt, Nanaya picks up the TV remote and pauses the movie we were watching, turning to stare at the excitedly bouncing form of Thea, hopping back and forth between her little feet with her tail swishing behind her.


    The entertainment area of the castle isn''t much to look at, with a chunky CRT television, a DVD player, and a few old game consoles hooked up to a small generator that runs on big jars of emotions stolen from people on Earth. The furniture, particularly the couch, looks like it was grabbed off of a curb after someone dumped it and slapped a ''free'' sign on the front. I have opted to stand behind the ratty thing rather than sit down, afraid it would collapse under my weight. It''s already creaking precariously as it tries to hold Melpomene, Anath, and Nanaya all at once, and it''s not like standing is less comfortable for me than sitting. It just kind of feels right standing behind Melpomene instead of sitting next to her anyway. It''s weirdly satisfying. I try not to think about it.


    Anyway, the remarkable poverty in which the Dark Rebellion lives has always struck me as odd given the amount of profit I know they make from artifact sales. Trying to watch anything on this ancient television is painful; it works by drawing the screen one line of pixels at a time, and I know this because I can see it doing that in real time. At my default optical settings it''s like trying to watch a movie by physically printing every frame and staring at the pages as they drop out of the machine. I have to manually neuter my own sensorium in order to look at the screen without going insane, but the movie itself hasn''t been bad. We were right in the middle of a super emotional scene, in fact.


    Hence why Nanaya is clearly so irritated that Thea interrupted us.


    "What!?" she growls.


    "Oh, uh, were you all busy? I can come back if you were in the middle of¡ª"


    "Just tell us what you figured out, sweetie," Melpomene interrupts her.


    "R-right, um, well look at this!" Thea rallies, taking out what looks like a floppy piece of rubber and slapping it onto her own face. "I got the 3D printer to work!"


    She takes her hand away, revealing a terrifying mask that appears to be made of human skin. Smoothing it against her face, it sticks perfectly, changing her normal green coloring into a startlingly human replacement¡­ if you ignore the eyes, which are unaffected, and the mouth, which still opens to reveal sharp little teeth that should not be there. The seams at the edge of the mask are equally conspicuous, and little bumps still accompany the green gemstones growing out of her body, but overall it''s still an impressively realistic mask.


    "Check it out! Synthskin! I bet I could make some sick disguises out of this stuff! Maybe we could even hide on Earth?"


    Everyone stares at her.


    "That¡­ is very impressive, Thea," Melpomene hedges. "But, um¡­"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Can it hide tails?" Anath blurts. "Because I''ve got like, a huge fuckin tail coming out of my ass. Also fur. That seems too sticky to play nice with fur."


    "Mmm. I think we have a few fundamental biological incompatibilities with such a plan," Nanaya agrees, lifting up one of her many-jointed alien legs. "A change in skin color is far from all we would need to pass as human."


    "I¡­ but¡­ I mean maybe my incarnate form¡ª"


    "¡ªWould still radiate magical energy like one," Nanaya cuts her off. "The Preservers would immediately start looking for you."


    "And you''d still be recognizable by your eyes," Melpomene agrees.


    "W-well I could make special contacts or something, too!" Thea insists.


    "Contacts that hide your sclera?" Nanaya prods, raising an eyebrow. "That wouldn''t work. It might even be more visible."


    "B-but I just¡­" Thea stammers, peeling the fake skin off despondently. "Don''t you guys want to visit Earth without getting attacked for once? Surely there''s some way to disguise ourselves better. There has to be! Do none of you miss the sun?"


    Nanaya, Anath, and Melpomene all stare at her, seeming surprised.


    "Not¡­ really?" Melpomene admits. "I honestly can''t say I do, sweetie."


    "It''s easier to work under cover of darkness," Nanaya agrees.


    "I mean, I do like the sun," Anath says, "but I get to see it when I head out to beat up Fulgora, so it''s not so bad."


    "Ugh," Thea sighs. "So it''s useless, is what you''re saying? Feel it, though, I got it crazy accurate to living tissue. I put a lot of work into this!"


    "Well, perhaps you shouldn''t have," Nanaya answers flatly. "There isn''t much purpose for a skintight disguise when none of us can take advantage¡­ of¡­"


    Nanaya trails off, glancing at me. Huh?


    "What, you think I can pass as normal?" I ask her. "I don''t have a mouth, my eyes are mostly decorative, and I weigh like three hundred pounds."


    "...All of which could potentially be mitigated," Nanaya hums. "Though the eyes would certainly be an issue."


    "I-I could create fake eyes!" Thea blurts. "I mean, even glass eyes pass under scrutiny from most people. A-and could make yours move! Hook them up to your actual optical system. Create a blink manager."


    "Mmm. And if we cover your mouth or teach you ASL, you won''t need to be able to move it," Nanaya agrees. "This could work, assuming it is executed well enough."


    "Y-you think so!?" Thea brightens up. "Er, no, of course it will! I''ll make it work!"


    "...What is going on here?" Melpomene asks.


    "We''re finding consistent work for Luna," Nanaya says. "With Thea''s invention, she could be our Earth liaison. The duties take up more of my time than I''d like, and she could potentially stand up under much heavier scrutiny."


    "Ooh, yeah! We''re always running low on stuff," Anath agrees.


    "Why do you need to find jobs for Luna?" Melpomene asks, clearly a little irritated.


    "So I don''t die of boredom," I answer. "In an entirely literal manner, to be clear."


    "Meditation and training have proved to be a holding pattern for Luna at best," Nanaya agrees. "She hasn''t been trained from a young age to shape her thoughts like we have; on the contrary, her clinical depression has caused her to be mentally and emotionally stunted."


    "...Hey," I protest.


    "As a consequence, she requires regular activity to stimulate emotional responses," Nanaya continues, ignoring me. "Not even sadness comes naturally to her when she has no tasks to disapprove of or fail at."


    "Hey!"


    "I¡­ suppose," Melpomene agrees. "But you think the solution is sending her out in public?"


    "Interaction with other people is likely to be the best source of power for her," Nanaya nods. "I''ve been thinking about ways to actually accomplish this while still moving towards our goals and without risking her safety. Disguising her nature as an artifact to allow her to operate freely on Earth would create hitherto-impossible opportunities."


    "I¡­ surely there''s something that isn''t as risky," Melpomene hedges.


    Ugh, I want to say ''what, like diving into fragments of a dead universe while magical girls attack me?'' but I can''t contradict her that blatantly. I am so looking forward to getting back to Earth.


    "It might be risky, but think of the rewards," I tell her. Changing her mind to something I think will benefit her is absolutely allowed. "I''m alien supertech. If I''m granted unrestricted access to the internet, I can probably do all kinds of crazy things to further the Dark Rebellion. I can keep track of convergences worldwide. I can track down people that would be sympathetic to our cause. I can dredge up endless amounts of blackmail on the politicians I''m pretty sure you''re bribing for some reason. Why are you doing that, by the way?"


    "Various reasons," Nanaya answers. "A lot goes to keeping mundane law enforcement looking the other way at illegal artifact sales, keeping our supply unbothered and forcing the Earth Guardians to dedicate more time to it. Some of it goes into funding magical research, which isn''t likely to see much profit for a long time and is thus relegated to investment from eccentrics who just want to be able to use magic. Some of it goes to personal goals, like encouraging a reduction of the US Military''s budget for foreign interference. Most of it goes towards shoring up care for orphaned children and the homeless."


    "Huh. Really?" I ask.


    "Recently-homeless orphan children make up a frightening percentage of Earth Guardian recruits," Melpomene frowns. "It''s certainly how most of us ended up joining."


    "Monsters kill your mom and dad," Anath grunts. "Then a flying cat goes ''hey, want the power to kill monsters?'' Who would say no?"


    "Oh, that''s messed up," I admit.


    "What''s really messed up is that it might honestly still be a better deal than ending up in the American foster system," Thea sighs. "And it''s certainly better than living on the street."


    "Amen to that," Anath nods.


    "So the obvious solution is to destroy the root of the problem: the inefficiencies of the institution designed to protect vulnerable children in the first place," Nanaya concludes. "Children need to be educated about the dangers of Earth Guardianship and content enough with their lives not to seek it out. Otherwise, there will continue to be children raised more or less exclusively by the Preservers, and consequently groomed into their ideology."


    "Oh my god," I realize. "Are we actually not the baddies!?"


    "Was that still in doubt!?" Melpomene demands.


    "Do you still look like a Disney villain? Oh yeah, you do!" I snipe back. "And I mean, we are on the team that beats up children."


    "Only because we oppose the team that sends children to fight us," Nanaya insists. "I will not act as though we are paragons of morality¡ª"


    "I like to fight children!" Anath declares happily.


    "¡ªbut we are certainly not doing what we do for personal gain. We agreed on this at the outset: there will be no using our power to accrue wealth and comfort. All resources will go towards achieving our objectives, with small, budgeted allowances for personal necessities and emotional self-care."


    "That''s why I have to steal all my Cheetos," Anath nods sagely.


    "...No, that is not why," Nanaya scowls. "We have plenty of money for food. You just insist on eating nothing but junk food no matter how much I try to stop you."


    "W-we''re getting off topic here!" Thea insists. "You''re basically saying I should design an entire skinsuit for Luna, right? It''s not really what I was hoping for, but that does sound fun. What does human Luna look like¡­?"


    "Not that I actually want to encourage you to use it as a reference, but I do actually have a real human body walking around," I remind her. "That''s what human Luna looks like."


    "The very fact that your original body still exists is all the more reason not to use it as a reference," Nanaya says. "We don''t want people to recognize you."


    "So I get to design something new!" Thea beams. "I bet you''d be really cute with freckles¡­"


    Oh dear! Um. The idea of a cute girl manually designing my body to also be cute is profoundly exciting and terrifying in ways that make me very glad that people are unable to read my emotions by default. I doubt Thea truly realizes how kinky some of the things she does and says around me are, but surely she knows that was a little flirtatious? Surely?


    "I haven''t agreed to any of this yet," Melpomene interrupts, scowling at me. She''s definitely figured out how flirtatious that was, and she''s not happy! Sorry Mom, but the mechanic likes her robot better than you. Maybe. Hopefully someday.


    "Do you have a compelling reason to object?" Nanaya asks. Damn, she''s been really swinging in my corner!


    "Luna''s most valuable ability is her capacity to translate the Antipathy language. She can''t do that for us if she''s gallivanting around on Earth."


    "I also can''t do that for you if you have nothing for me to translate," I remind her. "I finished with your notes a week ago, and you haven''t found any more fragments that have writing samples. I''ve just been waiting around and occasionally sneaking into empty chunks of Dark World. It''s not like being your liaison to Earth means you''re never going to see me again. I won''t be useful to you if I don''t remain in regular contact, so anytime you have something for me to translate I can still do that. It doesn''t take very long."


    "My thoughts exactly," Nanaya nods. "We are underutilizing her, Melpomene. She enjoys taking advantage of the skills granted to her by her new form. We all know the feeling. Denying her the opportunity to more completely be what she is would be wasteful."


    "I¡­ suppose," Melpomene hedges. "I''m just worried about you, Luna dear. The worst thing that could happen if the Earth Guardians catch one of us is that they try to imprison us. But if they catch you, there''s a chance you''ll never see Earth again. I don''t want that to happen."


    Aww, look at how careful and considerate she''s pretending to be! That''s so sweet.


    "I''ll be fine!" I reassure her. "I have plenty of experience fighting off Earth Guardians, if necessary!"


    "I wouldn''t call your level of experience ''plenty,''" Melpomene scowls. "More importantly, if you''re spending most of your time on Earth then there will be periods when the castle won''t be converging. You''ll have nowhere to retreat to and we''ll have no way to help you. We won''t even have any way to know what has happened until our fragment overlaps with Earth again. There could be days, possibly weeks when you''re entirely on your own!"


    Oh my god that sounds awesome that sounds so awesome I can''t let her know how much I want that.


    "I''m fast, and I can hide my magical signature. If I somehow get found out, I should still be able to give the magical girls the slip. Besides, why would they go after me in the first place? I''ll look like a normal human, and outwardly I''ll be acting like one too. Why would a magical girl attack someone who isn''t doing any magic? They''d have no reason to look for me, so there''s no way they''d ever find me. I''ll probably never even see one!"


    "Agreed," Nanaya nods. "If anything, it''s significantly safer than the solo operations we''ve sent her on so far. The lack of backup is more than made up for by the lack of hostility in the first place."


    Melpomene purses her lips, clearly trying to think of a counterargument while I do my best not to do the same. Fortunately, I really do think Nanaya and I have the more solid position here, and soon enough Melpomene sees that she doesn''t have much choice but to concede.


    "¡­Fine," Melpomene huffs. "I suppose if you''re all so adamant about it. But I want frequent updates! As often as you can reasonably manage."


    "Aye-aye, ma''am!" I confirm, snapping her a half-sarcastic salute.


    "And of course, all of this hinges on whether or not Thea can make a genuinely convincing disguise," Melpomene continues. "Not that I have any reason to doubt her, but if the whole thing gets completed and it''s still obvious that Luna isn''t human, we''ll have to scrap the entire plan."


    "Challenge accepted!" Thea declares, clenching both fists to show her determination. "I''ll make the most realistic disguise you''ve ever seen! Or¡­ actually, how realistic does it have to be? Is there any chance of someone seeing Luna naked?"


    "Okay, you have to be doing this on purpose," I blurt. "Do you have any idea how hard I''d be blushing right now if I had a face?"


    "Doing what on purpose?" Thea blinks innocently. "And you have a face! Blushing, though, that''s a good idea. I wonder if that''s possible. There''s gotta be some way to manually change the color of your skin on the fly¡­ oh, right! I should probably ask, because I completely forgot. Are you white?"


    "No, she''s obviously blue!" Anath butts in.


    I can''t resist the urge. I can''t.


    "Oh my god, Thea, you can''t just ask somebody if they''re white," I tell her.


    "But¡­ it''s relevant information," she answers despondently, predictably not getting the reference. "I mean, I guess I can make you look like any ethnicity you want, but if I remember correctly people get a little weird about that kind of thing?"


    "Thea if you would like me to give you a lesson on racial politics I would be more than happy to oblige at a later date," Nanaya deadpans. "For now, yes, Luna is caucasian. Other details may be adjusted at your discretion."


    "Awesome!" Thea vibrates.


    "Hey, don''t I get any say in what I look like?"


    "Yeah, sure!" Thea agrees. "Before we get to any detail work we''ll have to figure out the mechanical issues, though. Considering how mobile your plating is, your body probably isn''t designed to be encased in a skintight suit. We''ll need to check how it impacts your sensorium, your mobility, and especially your haptic feedback. I don''t want this to be uncomfortable for you. If we''re lucky I''ll have to reverse-engineer some of your sensors and figure out how to implement them into circuitry hidden within the skin."


    "Why would that be something that happens if we''re lucky?" I ask. "Is the alternative really bad?"


    "Yeah, the alternative is that there aren''t any problems and I don''t have a good excuse to reverse-engineer you. Come on!"


    She grabs my hand and starts dragging me away, which I of course allow her to do. Melpomene glares daggers at me as I get pulled out of the room, so I shoot her a peace sign to piss her off even more before getting tugged out of sight.


    Thea''s workshop is as messy as ever, with countless tools and half-disassembled artifacts scattered across every horizontal surface. She shoves enough of it to the side for me to lie down on the table like I usually do, and then starts fiddling with her computer, which is currently hooked up to the massive blocky artifact we ultimately identified as the 3D printer.


    "So, in getting all of this to work, I figured out a good deal more about interfacing with Antipathy software," Thea comments idly as she taps away. "Software isn''t exactly my area of focus, but I know a thing or two about Assembly, and the way the Antipathy do things is¡­ I mean, it''s different, but it''s not difficult. I feel like I''m learning more about their culture just figuring out how and why their software works the way it does than I ever did looking at old ruins. It''s pretty cool!"


    "I''d imagine so," I agree. "Is their coding structure designed to be as infuriating as possible or something?"


    "Not at all, actually!" she responds. "Pretty much the opposite. Like it was intended to be easy to figure out. A lot of stuff in modern computing is a little awkward and inefficient just because it''s an artifact of the way things used to work, and the new scaffolding was built upon older foundations. We try to avoid that, obviously, but Antipathy software structure is immaculately clean by comparison. Almost as if it was designed from the ground up to be easy to reverse engineer."


    "That seems¡­ noteworthy," I comment.


    "That''s what I thought!" Thea agrees. "I was gonna tell Mel about it, but then I forgot and made the synthskin stuff, and then I got really excited about that and I only really remembered it now that I''m back down here looking at the code again. But it''s cool! Like the Antipathy were trying to be nice to whoever came after them. Maybe they knew they were going to die."


    "Maybe," I concede. "But maybe they just rebuilt their systems like that because it''s efficient. I mean, I''m sure there are plenty of people who want to adjust fundamental aspects of the systems we use to be easier to interpret, they just haven''t gained enough traction."


    "I guess that''s fair," Thea pouts. "One way or the other, it''s very helpful to me specifically. So thanks, Antipathy! Your technology is the coolest!"


    On one hand, I''m flattered. On the other hand, I''m an enslaved soul trapped in a torture device. I''m not really sure if I agree with Thea on this one.


    ¡­Nah, who am I kidding?


    "I have to admit, casting off my mortal flesh hasn''t been as rough of a transition as I was expecting," I tell her. "Not being able to talk was a little bit ''I have no mouth and I must scream,'' but now I can scream, so I don''t feel as much of a need to. I feel so powerful! It''s hard to imagine going back to my crappy, freaky old flesh."


    "Yeah, that''s fair," Thea agrees. "Most Earth Guardians feel the same way about their incarnate forms. I know I do."


    "Oh yeah?" I ask. "What''s that like?"


    Thea stops typing, taking a moment to think about the question.


    "It''s like¡­ submerging yourself in warm water after forgetting to bathe for a week," she answers slowly. "Like going from some gross, wretched copy of yourself into actually feeling like¡­ you. It''s so physically and emotionally gratifying in a way I just can''t really describe. I wish I could stay in mine all the time, but I can''t. I can''t even get close. So I mostly try not to think about the fact that I can turn into it at all."


    There''s a lot of things I could say here. ''I think you look great like this, too,'' is one of them, and it would be true, but personal experience tells me that isn''t at all something she would want to hear. As adorable as a little green otter girl is, that isn''t an appearance she takes pride in, and I can respect that.


    "That all sounds very familiar," I admit. "You could probably train to maintain your incarnate form all the time, right? I''m pretty sure Castalia does it."


    Thea rolls her eyes.


    "Castalia is Castalia. The fact that she can do it doesn''t mean I can. There''s no way I''d pull it off."


    That''s kind of sad to hear. I want to push her a little harder on it, but I''m not really sure how.


    "Well, your incarnate form looks absolutely sick," I compliment her instead. "You scared the shit out of those poor Earth Guardians when you transformed."


    That gets a laugh out of her.


    "Luna, that''s a bad thing!" she insists. "One of them was a green mage!"


    And one of them was an orange mage, so I suppose scarousal would also be bad? I normally find Thea more cute than sexy, but if she keeps teasing me (intentionally or otherwise), that will almost certainly change. I''m a bit weak like that. Hmm. I wonder what it says about me that nearly all my crushes are capable of leveling a skyscraper.


    Oh, well. It doesn''t really matter. There''s a good chance my programming would prevent me from pursuing a relationship with Thea even if I wanted one. There''s no way I could convince myself that Melpomene would approve. This wouldn''t even qualify for the usual ''it''s okay to piss her off because it makes her more powerful'' clause; I''m pretty sure she would straight-up order me not to date the girl.


    "Come here, let me scan your face," Thea says, breaking me out of my musings. I hop off the table and kneel down next to her, at which point she pulls out something that looks like a barcode scanner and lasers my head with it. Two slow sweeps, up and then down.


    "Alright, looks like I got it!" she confirms, turning back to her computer screen. "Just add a little here and there, sprinkle in some of that¡­ yeah! That looks good. Printin'' time!"


    The literal and possibly also metaphorical black box chugs away, eventually depositing another facemask. Thea picks it up and motions me closer, so I present my face to her, allowing her to carefully press the mask onto my head to stick it in place. Her fingers trace the contours of my faux-cheekbones, around the inner rim of my eye sockets, pressing the fake skin in and making sure it''s tight.


    "Did you put freckles on it?" I ask.


    "I sure did!" Thea confirms.


    "...Do they make me look cute?" I ask, my courage bolstered by burned-away embarrassment.


    "The cutest!" Thea beams, pressing both of her palms into my cheeks and squeezing.


    Oh. Oh no. That''s gotta be flirting, right? Surely? Definitely? I''m not sure what to do with this information! Is she actually possibly maybe into me?


    ¡­Maybe I shouldn''t be so surprised about this. She has already been inside me, after all.


    "So?" she asks. "Can you feel me okay?"


    "What?" I ask, my voice only remaining steady due to being entirely artificial.


    "We''re testing haptics here," she reminds me. "Does the skin interfere with your ability to feel my hands?"


    "Oh. No," I respond. I can definitely feel her adorable, soft, warm hands. On my face. Which she designed.


    "Aww," she pouts. "Well, at least I get to rig up a system to give you human-looking eyes. Do you have a color preference?"


    "Green," I blurt.


    "Ehehehe. Okay! Let''s get your faceplate off so I can access your ocular system; I''ll have to make sure whatever I do to completely cover your eyes can still allow you to see."


    "Oh, yeah, sure," I agree, carefully pulling off my front head plating without interfering with the mask currently stuck to it. Flipping it around, I get my first good look at the face Thea designed for me. With empty eye holes it''s fairly obviously not real, but the craftsmanship is still impressive. Though static, the lips are soft and properly proportioned despite my lack of mouth. I can''t tell the nostrils don''t go anywhere unless I look way up into the nose, and of course the light dusting of freckles on the cheeks is remarkably¡­ personal.


    She made this for me. To be my face, or the first draft of it. No one else''s. She''s going to make a whole body for me. A head, hair, arms and legs, breasts and maybe even¡ª


    "U-Um!" Thea suddenly squeaks, and I look up to see her cheeks blushing a dark brown.


    "What?" I ask, panic and embarrassment mixing with my arousal.


    "I''m not, uh, the best at reading people''s emotions, but that''s a lot of¡­ I mean, even I can feel it if you¡­ I didn''t think you could even¡­ um. U-um! Forget it! Forget I said anything!"


    Oh fuck oh god oh shit I forgot that I live with empaths!


    "Wait, Thea, I¡ª"


    "I need to go to the bathroom!" she blurts, scuttling out of the room and rushing down the hall. I remain in her workshop, sitting around and feeling like an idiot.


    I guess that probably wasn''t flirting, then. I am a lesbian; I should have known that my guess would always be wrong.

 26. In Earnest

    Okay. Okay, calm down, Luna. It''s fine. This is fine, right? Probably not the end of the world. You can apologize and things will go back to normal, won''t they?


    Hah. Who am I kidding, of course they won''t. What was I even thinking, assuming Thea might be into me? Maybe she considers us friends, maybe, but physically? I''m just a project. A curiosity. She has straight up opened the space between my legs and stuck her fingers in there and not once did she seem to even consider it as potentially sexual. Why would she? She''s sheltered beyond belief, innocent to an unparalleled extreme. She''s¡­ I''m practically taking advantage of her. What the fuck is wrong with me?


    Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Calm down. That''s not a plea anymore, that''s a command. I take my emotions, bundle them up, and shove them wholesale into my energy stores, letting a comfortably familiar numbness take hold. Maybe things will be fine. Maybe they won''t be. Either way, I''ll live through it like I always have.


    That hasn''t always been easy to do, but I''ve done it. Now, even that will be easy; I couldn''t comply with any desires for self-termination if I wanted to, but even then the hopeless despair that drives one to suicide is another emotion that can be burned. Devoid of joy, devoid of anger, devoid of fear, and devoid even of sadness, I can still continue on. With no emotions at all, no motivations, no hopes or dreams or desires, I would still keep moving. No longer acting, but still reacting, still responding to stimuli and following orders like the servant doll I am.


    It seems kind of nice. To just¡­ step away from it all. Stop feeling. Just for a little bit. Just while my feelings are like this.


    "O-okay," a squeaky voice speaks up behind me. "Sorry about that. Um. I''m back."


    Thea. She''s back. My desire to run away just like she did is added to the flame.


    "...Luna?"


    I guess I should probably react. I turn to look at her, and she jumps a bit. Oh. I''m still not wearing my faceplate. Didn''t expect her to be surprised to look at sensors, wires, and the gem structure that my faceplate makes look like eyes.


    "Sorry about that," I apologize, my voice sounding as calm as ever. "I shouldn''t have let my thoughts get away from me."


    "N-no!" Thea insists, flailing a bit. "I shouldn''t have run away, that was¡­ very rude of me. I''m sorry."


    "You don''t need to be sorry," I insist.


    "Y-yes I do, I just¡­ I was just surprised," she mumbles. "No one has ever¡­ I''m¡­ I don''t really know what to do, that''s all. I''m not exactly¡­ well-socialized."


    I''m not really sure what to say. Is she just trying to be nice? She literally fled in terror after realizing I was thinking about sex. That doesn''t strike me as the reaction of someone who believes my thoughts to be okay. I guess I can check though, right? She read my emotions. It''s only fair that I keep track of hers.


    Fear. That''s the main one. Perhaps it''s somewhat to be expected. But I feel confusion, too. A bit of disgust. Embarrassment. Shame, for whatever reason, but the others paint a clear picture together.


    She certainly isn''t happy. I''m such an idiot. I have to fix this in any way necessary. I can''t upset her.


    I can''t.


    "Really, please don''t apologize," I insist, securing my faceplate back on. Empathic seal stable. "Honestly, I was mostly curious whether it was still possible for me to feel that way. It was a meditation exercise. I should have thought about how it might be interpreted before taking my face off."


    The lie flows out of me easily. What''s one more? They''re all in service to her continued ignorance already. She must remain happy, and that means she can''t know the truth. That''s simply how it is.


    "Wh-what?" Thea blinks. "Really? It felt kind of¡­ directed at me. Um, I was surprised you could feel that way myself! I''ve always assumed it would be biological."


    Ignore the first part, focus on the second. Draw her away.


    "I am being simulated as if I had a biological body," I point out. "Otherwise, I wouldn''t be able to house and use my soul, right?"


    "Oh¡­ yeah, that makes sense," she says. She looks like she''s thinking about it. A successful distraction, I think? "The soul needs a source from which emotions can be born. I never thought about how that could be software emulating viable hardware rather than hardware itself, but I suppose it obviously can be. I wonder what would happen to your soul if we transferred your consciousness to a different vessel?"


    "Well, it certainly came along for the ride the first time," I say. "Or I''m a copy, I guess."


    "O-oh, sorry, I''m being insensitive, aren''t I? I''m so sorry."


    "No! No, it''s fine. Please don''t apologize. You haven''t done anything wrong."


    "I-I have, though, I¡ª"


    "Thea," I press, a little desperately. "Please don''t think you''ve done anything wrong. Please?"


    That cuts her short, confusion shifting to become her primary state of mind. But that''s better than being upset. So much better.


    "...Alright," she allows. "I guess I was just surprised. Nobody''s ever¡­ felt that way about me before. So when I thought you were, I didn''t really know how to react. But if you''re not upset I ran, I guess that''s fine?"


    "I''m not upset," I lie. "A little embarrassed about my mistake, but mostly just hoping you''re okay. Have you really never felt that from anyone else?"


    The last question falls out of me before I manage to reconsider, the uncomfortable feeling of potential failure digging into me. Too late now, I suppose.


    "I mean, no," Thea admits, rubbing her hands together nervously. "I''ve felt it, just¡­ not at me. Melpomene would never see me that way. She still treats me like a little kid."


    Oh. Oh. Of course. Of course Thea has a crush on¡­ her.


    "She and Nanaya are kind of a thing already anyway," she continues, and if I was drinking anything I''d spit it out. Y''know, if I could.


    "Nanaya!?" I blurt. "Really? What? I figured she''d be way too grumpy for sex. I''ve never gotten that impression from her at all!"


    "She hides it well," Thea shrugs. "Really well. It''s kind of spooky how little she seems to feel things sometimes. I''m not really sure¡­ exactly what their relationship is? I don''t know if they have, um, s-sex. Uh. I mean, obviously they wouldn''t do that where I''d¡­ see them. Anath could probably tell you more, I heard most of this from her. I never would have noticed otherwise."


    "But does Melpomene feel that way about Nanaya?" I ask, this line of questioning both incredibly interesting and a good pivot away from the topics I don''t want her to focus on.


    "I don''t know," she sighs. "I¡­ don''t really get people. Not even empathy powers make me any good at it. I guess that''s probably why I was so surprised. I''m a little worried that I don''t treat you enough like a person."


    What.


    "Thea, you''ve treated me¡ª"


    I stop, the sound clip I created cutting off. I can''t tell her she''s treated me more like a person than literally anyone else since this transformation happened, can I? I can''t give that reassurance. It''s too close to a disallowed truth.


    "¡ªextremely well," I finish, my voice not seeming to have wavered for even a moment. "You''re the only reason I can speak. I can''t tell you how grateful I am to you for that. You''ve taken what was designed to be an Antipathy torture device and turned it into something I can honestly enjoy."


    For the most part.


    "I''m¡­ I''m glad," she nods, finally managing a smile. "I guess¡­ I''m worried that I''m just focused on what I can do to you more than I''m really focused on what I can do for you. I never even asked if you wanted half the things I''ve planned for you. I just get so excited about a new project but you''re not a project, you''re¡­ Luna. I want to be better about that."


    "That''s¡­ very sweet," I admit. "You don''t have to worry about getting my permission on this stuff, though. I trust you."


    "W-what?" she gapes. "No, that''s¡­ no!"


    "Look, if you want my permission, you have it," I assure her. It''s not really worth much around here anyway. "But in all honesty, I think I''d go crazy if you tried to get me to design my own face and skin and whatnot. I don''t really like thinking about that kind of stuff. As long as you make me cute, I''m happy."


    "Well of course I''m going to make you cute!" she declares. "Obviously! Going through all the effort of making a face and bodysuit and not making it pretty? That would just be terrible. I-I, um, really do want to know what you think about¡­ y''know, intimate details? I doubt you''re going to end up naked in front of anyone, but there''s always a chance that kind of thing could give you away, but I don''t know how comfortable you''d be with¡­ that. I don''t want to make anything, like, creepy or weird."


    Oh geez. Uh. That''s a question that would get my heart racing if I had one. Is there any good reason not to be honest here? No? That''s good. But do I have the courage to answer truthfully?


    ¡­Oh wait, of course I do, I can just eat my own fear.


    "As long as it''s not too weird for you, I think I''d be more comfortable with everything in its place," I answer. "Naughty bits and all. I mean, they won''t, like, function or anything, right?"


    "I mean no, obviously not," Thea confirms. "It would just be, um, external stuff. There''s no room in your¡­ uh. Y-you know what I''m saying."


    She blushes a deep brown. It''s painfully adorable.


    "And you can''t add¡­ accurate haptics?" I nudge, thanks to that beautiful artificial courage.


    "What do you¡­ oh. O-oh! Um. No," she squeaks. "Or at least¡­ I mean, maybe? But I don''t have any information on how your haptic system currently works, none of my planned changes interface with it at all. It worked fine feeling things through the proof-of-concept face so I was just going to¡­ y''know, let it do that."


    There''s a pause as she fidgets a little.


    "I''m sorry," she says. "I probably can''t make you feel very human again. It''s just¡­ visual. Maybe after a lot more research and time, but¡­"


    "It''s okay," I assure her quickly. "Really, it''s okay. Just having the bare basics to let me blend in on Earth would be more than enough. I was just curious, not expecting you to do anything like that."


    Don''t think about letting her do experiments on you don''t think about letting her do experiments on you think about letting her do experiments on you¡ª


    Stopping thread. Creating reminder. Resuming.


    ¡ªdon''t think about... wait, what was I thinking a¡ª


    Don''t think about it.


    ¡ªbout oh cool okay that''s probably nothing to worry about.


    "Haha, yeah, that would be kinda¡­ uh, weird, wouldn''t it?" Thea fidgets. "You probably don''t want to, um¡­ a-anyway! I still need to access your ocular system and figure out how it works so I can sub in a new input. Are you¡­ okay with taking your faceplate off again?"


    Emotional spectrum stable. Thought patterns successfully restricted. Tweaking emotional burn levels to simulate nominal mood state. Check, check, and triple check. Good to go.


    "Sure," I answer in no time at all, popping the faceplate back off. "Do anything you need."


    I couldn''t tell you to stop if I wanted to. You''re too excited about it. That''s¡­ scary, but at least with Thea she''s always done things I want her to do. Things I''d be happy to let her do even if I didn''t need to. And that makes all the difference, doesn''t it? I wasn''t lying when I said I trusted her.


    "Um¡­ alright," Thea agrees, motioning me to sit down on the table as she collects her laptop and brings it over along with a few tools. "Let''s get started, then."


    I tune out a lot of the following work, slowing down my mind and setting myself to pop back into awareness only when there''s a question I need to answer or an order I need to follow. It''s the best way to prevent my emotions from running wild again, and is relatively easy on power drain.


    "Okay, I think that''s all I need from you right now," Thea says several hours later. "I''ll let you know when I''m ready to test this stuff, but for now I have to actually attempt to construct the prototypes. There are a lot of small mechanical systems, since the detail work on how your face moves is going to be super important. So that will be¡­ a while."


    "Of course," I nod. Hmm, a lot of my plates have been removed. With a twist of power and will, I snap them back into place with one of the few spells I automatically gain permission for.


    "...Gosh, that''s cool," Thea sighs. "Are you doing okay, Luna? I feel like I''m¡­ I don''t know. Missing something."


    "I''m fine!" I lie again. "Really, there''s nothing worth worrying about. Again, thank you so much for all you''re doing for me. I can''t possibly repay you enough."


    "I-It''s fine! Really! I don''t need any kind of payment, I¡­ like doing this," she insists, fidgeting a bit.


    "Yeah, I guess you do," I agree. "Still, the degree of gratitude stands."


    "...Okay," she reluctantly allows. "I''m¡­ gonna miss you. When you start to spend your time on Earth."


    "I''ll miss you too," I say. "But I''ll be around! Maybe we can even figure out some way to send messages back and forth. And maybe you''ll find another good way to join me without standing out too much."


    "I-I hope so!" she agrees. "I really want to. It''s nice here, but it can be a little¡­ I don''t know. I don''t want to say ''lonely,'' but¡­ it would be nice to know more than three people. Heh. Four now, though! I''m really glad I got to meet you, Luna."


    Let it all burn. You can''t do anything about it anyway.


    "Likewise, Thea," I smile, hopping off the table and heading for the exit to the room. "Let me know if you need anything, or even if you just want to chat, okay?"


    "Sure thing!" she grins. "But, uh, I''m probably going to go into a complete fugue for the next eight to ten hours or so."


    "We''ll make sure to force you to eat," I assure her. "Good luck!"


    "Thanks! See you later!"


    I wave goodbye and head on out, turning into the hall and immediately spotting a broody-looking Melpomene leaning with her back against the wall, having obviously been listening in. What!? How did I not notice her? My sensors are still telling me she''s not there. I didn''t know she could do that.


    "Come with me," she says, quiet enough that Thea probably can''t hear her from the inside of the workshop. And, well, I guess that''s an order. I follow her as she pushes off the wall with her wings and starts walking away.


    "What''s up?" I ask casually, ignoring the simmering sludge of emotions rolling off of her like lava. She doesn''t answer, though, ultimately leading me out of the castle, out of the fragment, and into the liminal zone.


    "...Do we have some likely candidates for translation coming up?" I try again, the vitriol pouring off my master having died down a little over the course of the walk.


    "Perhaps," Melpomene answers. "We''ll certainly look when we get there."


    "So that''s¡­ not the main purpose of this trip, I take it?"


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    "You and Nanaya have been conspiring behind my back, haven''t you?" she accuses. And wow. That''s¡­ a take.


    "Uh, for very specific definitions of ''conspiring'' and ''behind your back,'' maybe," I answer. "It''s not like Nanaya would ever want to do something if she didn''t think it was in your best interest, and I literally can''t do anything I don''t think is in your best interest."


    "So you say," Melpomene scowls, and a bit of anger slips through my numbness.


    "So I say!?" I snap at her. "Look, master, I don''t know how long you were creeping outside her door, but I know you heard enough to know I''m still keeping your dirty secrets. Because I have to. You think I want to act like there''s nothing wrong? You think I wouldn''t blow the lid off of everything if I had even the tiniest hint of an opportunity? What the fuck could I possibly gain from pulling a long con here?"


    "And what part of any of that do you think inclines me to let you out of my sight!?" Melpomene growls back. "You keep telling me I''m in charge of you but then you go and act like¡­ act like¡­!"


    "Like a friend to someone you deeply care about who desperately needs one? Oh no! How awful for you that she''s happy, clearly I must be working against your interests!"


    "Shut up!" she orders, and I have no choice but to do so. "You lie to her face so easily. You clearly feel more than friendship towards her. You think I''d allow such a thing?"


    I don''t respond. She turns to glare at me and I motion at my own face. Her scowl grows deeper.


    "...You may speak," she says.


    "No, Melpomene, I don''t think you''d allow it," I answer. "That''s why I had to lie, you dipshit."


    The danger alert flashes through my mind so fast that I barely have time to realize it''s there before the impact connects, Melpomene''s foot crashing into my shielding and pumping in enough magic to shatter it. Her leg collapses half of one arm, crushing the components inside, before the impact with my chest sends me flying off towards a building. I manage to get my sputtering shielding back online before the follow-up impacts, three buildings and seven total walls getting reduced to rubble by my tumbling body before I finally slow down enough to twist in the air, spring off of my remaining functional arm, and land on my feet.


    My power reserves have been reduced to 18%. Chassis integrity compromised. Enabling self-preservation spell suite.


    Melpomene floats overhead, crackles of purple lightning dancing between her fingers.


    "I believe I have told you several times to watch the way you address me," she hisses. "And yet, here you are still disobeying me. Still insisting on running your mouth. And you dare to act like you''re forced into what you do? No. Clearly you require more traditional methods of being cowed into submission."


    Oh my god this delusional bitch.


    "You also ordered me to fuel your hatred, Melpomene," I remind her, running predictive calculations for the kind of preemptive dodges I''ll need to do to keep up with her speed. I don''t need to let myself take the hit if I think she''ll legitimately destroy me. She might actually regret that. "You specifically said I could piss you off like this when we''re alone. What the hell is the matter with you? Did you forget? Do you have a brain tumor or something? I can''t follow every order you give me if you constantly contradict yourself! I just have to guess whatever it is you really want!"


    Melpomene hesitates, though she doesn''t exactly stand down.


    "I''m supposed to be a catalyst for your disgust, aren''t I?" I continue. "That''s my purpose!? Well you picked the perfect girl for that! You wouldn''t believe how much experience I have with disgusting people. It''s pretty damn weak to punish me for being too good at the job you assigned."


    "Too good? Too good!?" Melpomene growls. "You''re not making me hate anything, you''re just making me angry! Anger isn''t disgust, fool!"


    "Nah, but I bet you feel pretty disgusted about some of the things you do when pissed," I answer, self-satisfaction blooming inside me as I see her twitch. "Keeping a slave already isn''t a good look, but beating her, too? What would Thea think of you for this? You do a great job of deserving all the disgust you direct at yourself, my master."


    It''s nice, in some sick way, to have a functionally limitless amount of time to determine exactly which words I want to use to spear through Melpomene''s heart. I can, and in many ways need to, construct a perfectly crafted rant optimized to the best of my ability towards getting Melpomene to see and feel what I want her to. The best of my ability isn''t much, of course. At the end of the day, I''m just an angry, broken girl. But god, it feels good getting to throw it all in her face, over and over. To make her suffer for every injustice she''s heaped on me, because that''s the reason I exist. My personal spite and my prime directive intertwining into a cathartic, vitriolic mush.


    I''m already moving when Melpomene starts to point a finger in my direction, a bolt of energy devastating the ground I had just been standing on. My shattered arm protests the movement by sending a dozen new pressure alerts from the more sensitive components.


    "You go too far," Melpomene accuses.


    "But do I actually, though? Or will you decide this is exactly what you wanted after you consume the pain away?" I taunt.


    "Quite the hypocritical accusation, coming from you."


    "I''m merely learning to serve my master through her example," I mock easily. "Don''t blame the genie for granting your wish."


    I can feel her forcing herself to calm down, my words piercing through the weak points I was aiming for. Her entire plan only works if she does actually care on some level about the evil things she''s doing. From where I''m standing, though, that only makes her more contemptible.


    "¡­I suppose we''ll have to tell her you got injured while we were fighting monsters," Melpomene frowns.


    "I think I have a better suggestion if you''ll permit it, master," I tell her innocently.


    "Go ahead, I suppose," Melpomene says, her eyes narrowing.


    "[K?????s??]"


    The Antipathy word for ''repair'' flows out of my spellcasting system much more naturally than the English incantations I normally use. It''s designed for the more guttural sounds, samples of this very word part of my database whereas the English still needs to be cobbled together. This method of speaking aloud was installed in me before Thea ever manufactured a way for me to talk normally, and it exists for a very different purpose.


    An enormously complicated blue spell circle alights at my feet, containing among many other things a detailed representation of my default schematics. It''s important that I direct the spell only into my arm; if I let it pass over my entire body, I will once again render myself mute. Melpomene makes immediate distance at the flash of light, no doubt used to spell circles of this size heralding deadly magic of a kind that only the most powerful people in the world can accomplish, but the instructions for this spell are not large for the sake of containing its output. The magic washes up into my arm without any dangerous effects to the surrounding terrain.


    Dented plates screech back into their proper shape. Shattered components reassemble themselves like a puzzle, fusing together as if they were never broken in the first place. By far the most expensive part of the repairs is joining together the shattered chunks of crystal, as the magic is unable to shape them directly. It can only gather in concentrations extreme enough to grow them, repairing the broken halves by letting a microscopic layer of brand-new crystal join them together.


    All in all, the process takes about twenty seconds. A little slow, but I wanted to be careful on my first attempt. I flex my once-again functional hand.


    My power reserves have been reduced to 15%. Way too low for comfort.


    "You''re quite powerful, aren''t you?" Melpomene asks, floating down to stand on the ground next to me.


    "I don''t really know," I admit. "Maybe I am, under the right conditions. But now that it''s over, I don''t have any idea how that spell worked. The information is all locked away from me."


    "I''m missing a lot of information about what you really are, aren''t I?"


    "You never asked," I accuse. "You just kinda took what little you already knew and ran with it. It was enough to know you were in charge, so what else matters?"


    "...I suppose so," she concedes to my surprise. "It''s never been anywhere near on your level, but I have managed to translate a bit of the Antipathy language on my own. It''s how I activated the machine that created you."


    "Exciting stuff," I say blandly, not really sure where she''s going with this. She stares at me for a few moments before turning and beginning to walk away.


    "Well, we still have an investigation to do," she says. "Come along."


    I follow her, given a lack of any choice in the matter. It''s nearly twenty minutes later before we make it to another Dark World portal, and I can feel an Earth Guardian there watching it. I suspect Melpomene also feels her, but she just keeps walking anyway. The Earth Guardian notices us when we get close, hopping over a couple buildings to intercept us. I quickly recognize the twitching wolf ears of Amaterasu, apparently recovered from our fight a while ago. Resting her foot on the edge of the rooftop, she leans over to call down at us from above.


    "Hey! This is restricted territory. Please leaving!"


    "It is not restricted to me," Melpomene answers, barely sparing her a glance.


    "No, I think it is restricted very specifically to you!" Amaterasu insists, hopping down in front of us. "You have hurt many with what you take from these places."


    "What a shame, then, that you cannot stop me from taking more."


    "Maybe," Amaterasu concedes. "Still gotta try."


    She summons her daggers, crouching into a combat stance between us and the portal. Melpomene keeps walking, and I keep walking behind her.


    "Turn around," Amaterasu presses, her loose stance tightening up to attack. But while her words offer de-escalation, her emotions are a flurry of anticipation. A need to overcome all obstacles. To win against all odds. Amaterasu isn''t just aware of the difference in strength between her and Melpomene, she''s actively fueled by it, and it''s power she wants to use.


    "No," Melpomene answers simply, and so Amaterasu launches at her.


    Without mercy or hesitation, Amaterasu''s dagger swings towards Melpomene''s throat. The sudden violence shocks me after so many engagements with kids, but that''s not what this is anymore, is it? My directives demand that I ensure my master''s safety, but I don''t make any moves to intercept Amaterasu. A brief examination of the situation indicates that Melpomene is extremely safe, and probably in the mood to blow off some steam.


    Melpomene''s hand whips up to grab Amaterasu''s wrist, but the other girl twists her body to break the grip and attack with her other dagger at the same time. As Melpomene lets go to deflect the second strike, Amaterasu''s momentum carries her up and over her target as she unleashes four more quick, deflected strikes in a split second before fully passing overhead.


    Landing on and leaping off a nearby wall, Amaterasu makes a second pass, another dancing series of overhead strikes and parries passing in a flash. The third time around, Melpomene knocks Amaterasu''s strike away with her elbow and then catches the catapulting girl by the face, her entire body jerking painfully to a halt. Amaterasu wastes no time trying to stab her way out of the grapple, so Melpomene chucks her headfirst into a wall, one-handed. The entire time, she hasn''t stopped walking towards the portal.


    "G???? B????!" Amaterasu casts, her daggers alighting with burning power.


    "Oh please, don''t embarrass yourself," Melpomene rolls her eyes. "Use your Catharsis or go home."


    Amaterasu pauses, her eyes wide.


    "This isn''t one of your cartoons," Melpomene sneers. "I''m not waiting for you to exhaust your entire fucking toolkit. You get one more shot, and then I knock you out and leave you to the monsters."


    Amaterasu gets up, takes a deep breath, and lowers into another ready stance.


    "You," she says, "are very arrogant."


    "One of us is," Melpomene answers. "Let''s find out who."


    "Hai," Amatersu agrees, power gathering around her as she sheathes both of her daggers, her hands still on their hilts. It''s¡­ a lot of power. A truly obscene amount of power, which Amaterasu somehow holds together through sheer determination. I realize, through my shock, that I should be stepping in to protect my master, but it''s too late.


    "C?????s?s: N????s???????."


    "Behind me, servant," Melpomene orders, and I halt in my tracks as the world turns white.


    When my optical systems finish rebooting, my first thought is that I am somehow no longer in the liminal space. Brighter than a summertime noon, the light suffusing everything is more than enough evidence to suggest we are somewhere else, but there''s also the fact that I no longer see any buildings. There is no cluttered suburban infrastructure, just a flat, white plain, smoldering with glowing heat. It''s everywhere, in every direction, at least for as little as I can see in this overwhelming brightness. Everywhere, I note, except for directly behind us, where a wedge of unbroken liminal space stands untouched but for the illumination.


    In front of me, Melpomene stands slightly crouched, an ornate circular shield held in one arm in front of her. My optical sensors spot a few hairline cracks in the summoned weapon, the beginnings of severe damage, but it still holds fast. In front of us, Amaterasu stands in a stiff pose, holding the tail end of her swing, her lungs gasping for breath as the air smolders around us. Melpomene stands up straight, lowering her shield.


    "Are you done?" she asks, and the day slowly returns to night.


    Amaterasu takes a few more gasping breaths, the glowing white ground cooling back down to orange, and then black.


    "I''ll take that as a yes," Melpomene answers for her. "A bit of advice, if you plan to fight me again. With speed like yours, you might barely, barely be fast enough¡­"


    She starts walking again, and I follow, the two of us passing by right next to Amaterasu as we make our way to the Dark World portal.


    "¡­to go and fetch Castalia."


    Putting her hand on the side of Amaterasu''s face, Melpomene shoves her to the ground, the girl collapsing in an unconscious heap. Immediately, her transformation reverts, leaving behind a small Asian girl who''s probably only a little younger than me.


    At least my power reserves tick up a couple percentage points as we walk past, leaving her at the mercy of whatever may follow after us. I hope she makes it out alright, but there''s nothing I can do.


    Melpomene and I enter the Dark World, a similar degree of devastation having made it through the portal and flattened part of the landscape. Melpomene scowls, shaking out the arm she used to hold her shield.


    "That actually hurt," she complains. Of course, a quick look at her doesn''t reveal any actual injuries.


    "That was mean," I tell her frankly. "Do you feel any better?"


    "I do, actually," she admits. "Apologies for earlier. I suppose I may have overreacted."


    "Yeah, I suppose you may have," I respond sarcastically.


    "After all this time, I should ask," she says, ignoring my jab. "What''s it like, being you? How do you interact with my orders? What enforces them?"


    I can''t decide if I''m happy or annoyed that she''s finally asking¡ª


    Current anger exceeds current happiness by 234%.


    ¡ªokay, I guess I can, but I suppose it doesn''t matter because I have to answer either way.


    "I don''t know how it''s enforced, exactly," I tell her. "I don''t think I''m allowed to have any information on the way my own restrictions work, for obvious reasons. But when you give an order, it''s like¡­ part of it is the order itself, the words you say, the way you say them. But more than that, the orders you give me update my understanding of you. Who you are, what you desire. I cannot take any actions if I believe that you wouldn''t approve of them. Even if you never ordered me to avoid doing something, if I believe you would have if you had thought of it, it still functions as a restriction. Everything you do is irrevocably etched into my memory, and through that understanding I decide how to serve you. Your orders clarify your will, but it is ultimately your will that I follow, to the best of my understanding, at all times."


    "And so when you disobey me¡­" she prompts.


    "It''s because I''ve determined that what you are telling me you want is different from what''s actually best for your interests, to a significant enough degree that I would be hurting you and your primary objectives if I were to obey."


    "I don''t like that at all," she says frankly.


    "Then give me a better idea of what the hell your deal is and stop contradicting yourself over it!" I snap. "Or, better yet, leave the less insane members of your group to handle me in your stead! Nanaya''s a little hard to read but at least she''s clear about what she wants."


    "¡­I am not insane," Melpomene asserts, crossing her arms.


    "Oh yeah, totally, nearly murdering me because I called you a dipshit is an extremely sane and reasonable escalation. I know you probably never made it to middle school, but I''m barely even swearing at you here."


    "I didn''t ''nearly murder you,''" she insists, like a fucking moron.


    "I mean, even if you want to ignore the whole reason I''m in this body, if you crushed my torso the way you crushed my arm I would be dead. I can''t exactly cast a repair spell if you shatter the structure holding my soul."


    That brings her up short. I feel genuine shock and fear radiating off of her. Hello, bitch. Meet my friend: the consequences of your actions. I realize this is your first time speaking with each other but I hope the two of you get along.


    "You''re¡­ telling the truth?" she asks, quietly desperate for me to say no. Ah, but she would hate for me to lie.


    "I''m down to pretty critical energy reserves, too," I tell her. "You had to smash through all of my defensive magic before you could dent me, so all the work we''ve put into getting my batteries charged back up has kind of gone down the drain."


    The expression on her face and emotions in her mind are oh-so delicious. Guilt. She''s regretting it. She''s done something that she believes is worthy of punishment. And that means I get to twist the knife.


    "Wait, are you actually concerned?" I ask. "Should I be defending myself when you beat me? Sorry, everything you''ve done has made me think that you''d prefer a helpless victim."


    "No!" she insists. "The whole purpose behind the Dark Rebellion, the entire reason we''re doing this, is to empower humanity to save helpless victims. To not let the Preservers indoctrinate every child they can get their hands on. To create a world where we have some alternative to relying on cursed, borrowed power!"


    "And yet you don''t practice what you preach," I accuse. "You act exactly like the sort of person you''re accusing the Preservers of being. You are everything you hate."


    "I don''t have a choice!" she shouts.


    "You have every choice," I say. "You know that. You wouldn''t be so disgusted with yourself if you didn''t."


    "The Preservers have an entire society of magic users," Melpomene tries to justify. "Millions of people who could potentially do what that Earth Guardian just did. I have to be strong enough to withstand that. To withstand everything, all the way to the end!"


    "Then kidnap and torture some fucking babies, but leave me out of it!" I snap.


    "I couldn''t even if I wanted to!" Melpomene growls back. "I barely even know what happened to you! I don''t have any way to free you!"


    "Well, just a thought, but you could try saying ''hey Luna, I''ve decided to free you,''" I suggest.


    "From what you''ve told me, that wouldn''t work," Melpomene snarls, "because you''d know I wouldn''t mean it."


    She glares at me. I meet her gaze, my face as blank as ever.


    "So that''s it, then?" I ask. "You''re just a fundamentally wretched person, no nuance and no notes?"


    "I suppose so," she spits.


    "You know, I honestly think the others would rather you be happy than save the world," I tell her. "I get the impression they''re less in this for the noble ideals and more in it for you. Thea, definitely, but maybe even Nanaya. That''s why she''s trying to get you away from me."


    Melpomene looks away, saying nothing.


    "I can''t go without your permission, you know," I tell her. "And I''ll still be bound by your chains when I do. Do you really need to watch me suffer to hate yourself for it? Are you truly so pathetic that you can''t muster up enough disgust just from the knowledge that you own a slave?"


    "Stop," she hisses.


    "See, this is another one of those confusing parts about serving you, master. Do you really want me to?"


    She doesn''t answer. A small nearby movement catches the attention of my sensors, and I look down. It''s a drop of blood, falling from between her fingers. Her hands are clenched in fists so tight her claws have opened up her palms.


    "¡­Let''s go," she orders. "There''s supposed to be the ruins of a small town in this fragment. There could still be artifacts. I can''t see the town from here, though."


    "Perhaps it was destroyed while you were letting off your stress on Amaterasu," I suggest, motioning to the line of destruction starting from the portal and extending out to the edge of the fragment.


    Melpomene turns her head, staring out at the slowly cooling devastation.


    "Oh," she says. "Damn."

 27. Guardian

    "Whatcha thinkin'' about, Eliza?"


    I blink, the answer to Chloe''s question temporarily vanishing and leaving me confused as her words jostle me out of my own head. Thankfully, my train of thought returns to the rails quickly enough for me to figure out what to say.


    "Aurora''s family invited me over for dinner today," I tell her.


    "Oh! That''s nice of them. Do you know them well?" She asks.


    The two of us are hanging out together, as we have for most of the summer. We''re mostly just walking around today, though. Hanging out. It''s quiet, but it''s nice.


    "Well, I know Aurora well, kind of. But I''ve never met her family," I explain. "It doesn''t really come up much. Generally speaking, we like to keep our families as far away from our work as possible."


    "Oh, I see," Chloe nods. "Aurora is one of the kids on your team, right? I think it''s great that she wants you to meet her family."


    "Yeah, it is," I nod. "I''m just not really sure how to meet them."


    How is this not obvious? They''re humans. We meet them as a human. End of discussion.


    "What do you mean?" Chloe asks.


    "It just feels weird hanging around Aurora as¡­ you know, an adult," I admit.


    That''s because it is weird! But you''re still an adult when you look like a kid, so it''s not like it''s any less weird!


    "You''re saying you want to show up as Minerva?" Chloe asks.


    "Well¡­ yeah, I guess," I shrug awkwardly. "I mean, I am Minerva. I''m just worried it would be¡­ creepy? I don''t even know why I turn into a kid when I transform. I don''t really act like one. It''s totally creepy, right?"


    "...Well, I think it''s only creepy if you make it creepy," Chloe answers slowly. "I mean, okay, there''s no good way to ask this, so just to bluntly get it out there¡­ it isn''t a sex thing, right?"


    "No!" I shudder. "A thousand million times no. I''d break the arms of anyone who tried something like that."


    Thinking about it now, the fact that my child form is something that society universally condemns sexualizing might be one of my favorite things about it? I¡­ don''t want people to see me that way. At all. Ever.


    Woah. I didn''t realize it was that intense for you.


    I don''t think I did either? I kind of go out of my way to avoid thinking about stuff like that, and you don''t really think about it much either.


    Yeah, I guess I don''t.


    "That''s about what I thought," Chloe nods. "Does Aurora''s family know how old you are?"


    "I¡­ have no idea," I admit. "Aurora knows, but I don''t know what she''s told them."


    "Well then there''s a chance they won''t see you as an adult in a child''s body. They might see you as an actual child. Is that something you want?"


    I frown, rolling the question over in my mind a few times as we walk down the street.


    "I have no idea," I admit. "I like it when my team doesn''t treat me like I''m nearly twice their age, but I don''t know if I''d like other people treating me like I''m half their age? It''s never really happened before. I don''t talk to anyone other than my team and Uma''tama when I''m in my real body."


    Chloe suddenly stops walking. I stop as well, glancing nervously back at her, and she raises an eyebrow at me.


    "Your ''real'' body?" she asks.


    "¡­Yes?" I hedge. "I mean, it''s my incarnate form. It''s literally the incarnation of¡­ me."


    "Oh," Chloe says. "Well, that settles it, then. Go as Minerva."


    Oh my god no.


    "R-really?" I stammer.


    "Yeah, of course!" Chloe encourages with a smile.


    "Well, I''m also worried that I''ll come off as too¡­ impersonal," I backpedal. "Like, who shows up to a family dinner in full combat regalia?"


    "Is it really combat regalia if it includes the skirt?" Chloe asks.


    "I mean, yeah?" I answer. "It might not look practical, but it''s still the outfit I kill monsters in. It''s the clothing that everyone associates with¡­ you know, the local Earth Guardian. According to what you told me, that might be a little uncomfortable for hu¡ªer, normal people, and it probably won''t be very casual for Aurora if she''s constantly seeing me in work mode."


    "Well then just wear something else," Chloe shrugs. "It''s not like there''s anything stopping you, right?"


    "I don''t¡­ have kid-sized clothes," I tell her. "Why would I?"


    "For literally all of the reasons we just talked about!" Chloe insists, throwing her hands up in the air. "That''s it, it''s settled. We''re going shopping."


    "What?" I blink.


    "We''re going shopping! For clothes that you can wear while casually hanging out in your self-described ''real body!''" Chloe exclaims. "Oh my gosh, this is gonna be great! I''ve always wanted a little sister I could dress up."


    "Um. Huh?"


    God damn it this is going to be so embarrassing! Tell her no!


    Clothes of my own¡­?


    I said tell her no god damn it!


    "I-I don''t have any money," I blurt. "I can''t¡­"


    "My treat," Chloe says.


    "I couldn''t possibly¡ª"


    "My. Treat."


    I hesitate, trying to think of a way out, but Chloe barrels on before I can say anything.


    "There''s no way you''re getting out of this now, Minerva. You''ve got me way too excited!"


    God fucking damn it.


    "O-okay," I manage.


    I can''t believe you''re letting this happen.


    Chloe practically drags me down the street, rushing through town until we come across a nearby department store. Once inside, I can barely do anything other than quietly freak out as I watch her scour the shelves for things to try on. I have no idea what my clothing sizes are in my incarnate form, so she grabs several of the same outfit from off the racks before pushing me towards the changing rooms.


    "Isn''t it going to be really weird when I walk into a stall as an adult and come out as a child?" I whine.


    "I mean, not as weird as doing your entire flashy transformation out in the open," Chloe says. "And it''s fine! Nobody''s even looking. They won''t notice."


    I mumble a few more wordless protests before getting shoved into a stall, the clothes in hand. Am I seriously going to do this?


    Don''t. Do not do it. Just walk back out of that stall and hand the clothes back.


    But why?


    You know why! This whole thing is weird as hell!


    But it''s not fair.


    What do you mean, it''s not fair? Life isn''t fair.


    You get to dress us up in whatever clothes you want. Even when we''re in human form, we look more or less like you. Our body feels like yours. I never get to be me unless we''re fighting. It''s¡­ it''s not fair.


    You seriously want to walk around town looking like a normal kid? You want to hang out with Chloe all day looking like a ten-year-old?


    I don''t know! Maybe? Yeah? I know it''s weird and creepy, I just¡­ I didn''t choose this, okay!? I never decided to exist this way. It''s not normal, but we''re not normal. Nothing about us is! Will this really be so bad? Isn''t it okay for me to hang out with my friend as myself for once?


    ¡­


    Well?


    Do what you want.


    I take a deep breath, letting it slowly out. In, and out. In, and out. Like Castalia taught me to do, if I thought I was being too angry, too scared, or generally too emotional at all the wrong things. Castalia never leaves her incarnate form. She''d probably want me to do this too, and Chloe¡­ well, she''s already been quite insistent. So really, what am I waiting for?


    "O??? A????, I F????."


    Thankfully, there isn''t anyone else in the changing rooms to notice the light show coming out from underneath the stall. I change the same way I''ve changed hundreds of times, and as always, when it is over, I feel so much better.


    "B???? P?????ss D?????? M??????."


    My usual outfit appears around me as it always does, but I can make it disappear just as easily, unsummoning most of it with an act of will. I place the clothes Chloe handed me over the remaining underthings, trying out the various sizes and finding the one that fits me best before awkwardly exiting the changing room, more than enough fear pounding in my heart to sustain my incarnate form for the rest of the day.


    "Um," I hedge quietly, peeking back out into the main area of the store. "Hey, Chloe."


    Chloe''s entire face seems to stretch a little as her eyes open wide and her jaw drops towards the floor. Her hands come up to press against her cheeks, and she starts letting out a high-pitched squeal of excitement. It''s embarrassing. It''s also a little odd having to crane my neck up to look at her, but that, at least, feels right.


    "Eeeeeeee! Oh my gosh you are so adorable!" Chloe squeals. "Ahhh, you''re even cuter than I thought you would be! Is that really you?"


    "I-it''s me," I confirm, shifting my weight awkwardly. It''s a lot easier to feel her emotions like this, and I can''t help but be surprised to not feel even a single mote of disgust. It feels like there should be some.


    "Okay, okay, you have your sizes now? We have got to try on more outfits. Oh! I should take pictures of you so you can see what you look like!"


    "¡­I mean, there are mirrors in the changing room, so¡ª"


    "I should take pictures of you."


    What follows is a whirlwind of clothes and embarrassment. Chloe seems to have no end of outfits she wants me to try on, and I can do little more than follow the tide as she continues dressing me like a doll. It''s an odd experience in so many ways. I''ve never done this before, never really explored what I like to wear. I guess I''m still not really sure.


    A lot of my preferences are similar to Fulgora''s, but is that because I actually enjoy dressing the same way or just because I can feel her disapproval leaking into me whenever I put on anything too girly? My incarnate outfit has a skirt, so I feel like I shouldn''t really mind skirts? And I don''t, I think, but I really don''t like the idea of wearing one to meet with Aurora''s family. Skirts are part of my butt-kicking outfit. I want clothes that will remind me that this isn''t a fight.


    So no skirts. No green. This is my chance to try something new, right? Something casual.


    "What about just shorts?" Chloe asks. "It''s pretty hot out."


    "Shorts are a little too casual," I hedge. It doesn''t feel right. "I''m immune to the heat like this anyway."


    "Hmm¡­"


    What about those slacks? Fancier than cargo pants, but not too formal.


    I''m not sure I like the color¡­


    What''s wrong with black?


    I don''t know, it''s just very¡­ you.


    I am you.


    Well, we have different opinions on black.


    Dark blue, maybe?


    No! I don''t want to look sad.


    "Minerva?" Chloe prompts, causing me to look up at her.


    "Hmm?"


    "Whatcha thinkin'' about?"


    "Colors," I answer. "I don''t want to wear green. Or black. Or blue. Or red. Definitely not purple."


    "Um, yellow could be a cute color for a shirt," Chloe says.


    "¡­That''s Aurora''s color, though. Would that be weird?"


    "Okay, uh, what about brown?" Chloe suggests, looking like she wants to ask a question but doesn''t think she should. "Like your stone."


    Seems kind of tacky.


    "I kind of like that idea," I admit.


    Really?


    Brown is you and me, together. Cooperation, self-discovery. The things we''ve been working towards since we started training with Castalia. Brown is the color that represents what we want to be.


    Hmm. Okay, I can see it.


    "Alright, how about brown for the pants and¡­ uh, geez, there''s not really a whole lot of other colors. White and pink? For the shirt? Would that work with brown? Maybe if there''s not too much pink¡­"


    It takes a while, but Chloe manages to assemble an outfit I''m pretty happy with. The light brown slacks give me the color I want while still just being a normal color for pants, and the mostly white shirt offsets the whole thing from being too emotion-coded. Even the pink accents aren''t really a representation of red; emotional colors tend to be pretty saturated. Come to think of it, maybe a pastel blue wouldn''t be too bad either. I guess I could buy something like that later.


    ¡­Later?


    Don''t give me that. I''m actually having fun! Chloe doesn''t seem to mind! I''m enjoying this a lot, I definitely want to do it more.


    Chloe''s probably just being nice. You know what she''s like.


    I¡­ maybe, she could be. But at the very least she''s not upset by it! She''s a good friend, a really good friend. It''s like she knew in advance how much I''d like this.


    ¡­Yeah. Yeah, maybe she did. I just¡­ we don''t have a lot of control over who is in control. And the more time we spend looking like this the more likely I''ll end up wearing your incarnate form. I''m really not comfortable with that? I can''t exactly end the transformation if we''re wearing real clothes. I don''t think it works in reverse.


    You can just change back in a bathroom or something. Come on, I have to be big all the time! You can handle being a little small. We have to make compromises since we''re sharing.


    Ugh. I guess you''re right. Sorry. I know how excited you are about this. I''ll try not to complain.


    Thanks, Fulgora.


    "You. Look. Perfect," Chloe squees. "Oh my gosh you''re the cutest thing I''ve ever seen! I can''t believe you never did this sooner!"


    "U-uh, I mean, I didn''t really know I¡­ was me?" I admit, unable to stop a blush from heating up my cheeks. How was I supposed to know that the intrusive thoughts in my head were straight-up an entire other person? How was she supposed to know her intrusive thoughts were me? We share memories, we swap between each other without apparent rhyme or reason. Our minds are sometimes clearly distinct, but sometimes they''re a seamless blend, with no apparent line between us.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "I can''t really say I get it," Chloe says, and I realize she''s been staring at me with a sad smile. "It seems complicated in ways I probably don''t have any context for. But I''m glad you know who you are now, Eliza. ¡­No, sorry. Minerva. I''m really, really happy to get to see you smile."


    H-huh? But I wasn''t¡­ oh. I guess I have smiled a lot today. Getting pulled around by Chloe has been overwhelming, but¡­ enjoyable. I really like getting to see myself in the mirror, trying on new clothes. I never knew how much I wanted this.


    And it''s not just me. Chloe has been happy. Sometimes, random strangers will watch us for a little while and I''ll feel them get happy, vicariously soaking in what looks like a joyful moment between sisters. People aren''t looking at me with concern, fear, or pity. Dressed like this, no one sees Brave Princess Dutiful Minerva. It''s just Minerva. And I never knew what that was like until now.


    Even I have to admit it. It''s¡­ nice. As weird as it is, it really is nice.


    I feel the tears well up and start to fall all at once, quickly moving my hands to wipe them away from the corners of my eyes. A spike of panic wafts off of Chloe immediately, so I quickly chime in before she can say anything.


    "G-good tears!" I assure her. "These are good tears. I really am happy. Thank you, Chloe. You are a very, very, very, very good friend."


    She relaxes, joy returning to her face and blooming into the air around her.


    "I''m glad you think so," she says. "You deserve one."


    I don''t know what I''ve ever done to deserve someone like her, but I can''t bring myself to protest. With my outfit for the dinner decided, Chloe and I start walking towards Aurora''s house. I have to summon my phone out of my human body''s pocket to double-check her address, which ends up leaving Chloe agape.


    "Magic!" she declares, pointing at me.


    "Uh. Yeah?" I confirm. "It''s barely magic. More of a function of the transformation stone than anything."


    "Aren''t¡­ aren''t those magic?" Chloe asks.


    "Well yes," I concede. "I''m not really casting a spell, though. Not like I normally do. I''m just¡­ using a tool for one of its intended purposes."


    "What''s the difference?" she asks, curious.


    I hesitate, trying to figure out exactly how to answer.


    It''s about will and focus. Intent. Control.


    Yeah. Hmm¡­


    "It''s like¡­ riding the bus versus riding a bicycle," I tell her. "To ride the bus you just have to pay the fare, get on, and let it take you where you want to go. That''s using the basic functions of the stone. To ride a bike, you have to constantly pedal, but you decide everything about the trip. You control how fast you are, when you turn, whether or not you want to go off the road entirely. And of course, if you crash it''s entirely your fault. That''s real magic. The transformation stone helps with that too, makes it easier, smoothes out the edges. Like¡­ riding on a paved road. But I''m still the one holding the handlebars. Does that make sense?"


    "Kind of," Chloe nods. "Though it''s all just magic to me, haha. I mean, regardless of how you do it, it''s impossibly cool to us normal people. We''ll never be able to do stuff like that."


    "That''s not true at all," I tell her frankly. "I told you this, right? There''s no reason you can''t use magic. You probably do it relatively often without noticing. ¡­Though I guess that''s because the effects would be basically impossible to notice."


    "You''ve told me a little, but I still hardly know anything," Chloe says. "The Preservers have flatly refused to tell humanity anything about magic, so all I know is from whatever little comments on the subject you make."


    "Oh," I say. Right, I knew that. I''m not sure what I was thinking there. "I¡­ guess I probably shouldn''t keep explaining, then."


    "Wh¡­ oh no! Ah, forget I said that! Please tell me more!" Chloe begs.


    I blink, honestly surprised to feel so much orange magic coming off of her while she said that. She really wants to know that badly¡­?


    "Why haven''t you ever asked me about this before?"


    "Well, I thought it would be rude," Chloe admits. "I mean, you never even wanted to admit you were a magical girl at all for most of the time I''ve known you. I figured asking you about magic would make you uncomfortable, and I didn''t want you to think I was just getting close to you because you have powers."


    "I''d never think that about you," I frown.


    "I mean you wouldn''t now, because we''re totally best friends, but until recently?" Chloe prods, and¡­ yeah, okay, that''s fair. I wouldn''t have wanted to talk about this at all.


    "Alright," I concede. "Fair enough, I guess. But¡­ I thought you told me just recently that you were ashamed of the Earth Guardians. You basically said you wished we didn''t have to exist. Why would you want magic?"


    "Cuz it''s magic, duh!" Chloe exclaims, throwing her hands up into the air. "Like yeah, the fact that literal child soldiers are the only thing holding society together right now is absolutely beyond horrific, but if more humans could use magic that would be less of a problem, not more of one. We could have actual adults doing this stuff!"


    I can''t help but scowl at that.


    "What''s with the insistence that kids shouldn''t be doing anything important?" I ask, a little irritated. "I get that nobody wants to see us hurt, but it''s frustrating when people act like we shouldn''t be doing our job."


    "I¡­ children are dying, Minerva, we¡ª"


    "You think I don''t know that!?" I snap at her. "I live that. But that''s our choice to make. Not yours. Don''t act like you know better. If we wanted to quit, we would."


    Though of course, that would be unthinkable. Just giving up, after everything I''ve devoted myself to, after everyone I''ve failed, and just going home to be some broken, crazy girl? No. I''m going to be an Earth Guardian until I die. I know that better than anyone.


    Exactly.


    "¡­I''m sorry," Chloe says softly, nervously fidgeting with her hands. "I just¡­ no. I''m sorry."


    "It''s fine," I say, not entirely sure if it is but not wanting to let this hang over us. "We just don''t want you to pity us, or be ashamed of us. The whole point of it all is that we don''t want anything to hurt you."


    "Yeah," Chloe nods, not really looking at me. I can tell she feels awful, but I don''t know whether it''s because I''ve successfully convinced her or because I haven''t. Either way, we''re almost at Aurora''s house. I don''t want to end the day on such a sour note.


    "Thanks again for buying me clothes, and going shopping with me," I tell her, forcing the subject back. "I had a lot more fun than I ever thought I would."


    "I''m glad," Chloe says, a bit of her former cheer returning. "I guess that''s all we want in the end, too. For you guys to be happy."


    Part of me wishes she wouldn''t worry about that, but the other part is very glad she does.


    "Well, you''re very good at that," I tell her, since it''s true either way. "We''re almost at Aurora''s house, though, so I guess this is where we should part ways."


    Chloe hesitates.


    "¡­Can I hug you?" she asks.


    "Um, sure?" I blink. I''m not normally a very huggy person, but I guess it''s okay if Chloe¡ªack!


    Chloe quickly squats down, scoops me up under the armpits, and lifts me into the air. I instinctively engage flight magic, though this mostly serves only to make me even lighter and easier to carry. Before I know it I''m being held tight against her chest, my legs dangling awkwardly as she gives me what would be a crushing hug to most people. Hesitantly, I wrap my arms around her and give her a light squeeze back. While we hold each other, Chloe fails to conceal the hand she brings up to wipe away her tears.


    "Talk to you soon, alright?" she prompts as she puts me down, her usual cheer so much easier to identify as fake while I''m in my incarnate form.


    "Yeah," I agree. "I''ll see you soon."


    She waves goodbye as I turn to walk the rest of the way to Aurora''s house. It''s a squat little thing, flat and wide and bunched up close against the houses on either side. The yard is small but tidy, a patch of garden lying between the porch and the grass. The house''s gray paint is old and weathered, but it still seems like one of the better-maintained places in this part of town. I walk up to the front porch and press the doorbell, but after hearing no sound and detecting no movement from inside I opt to knock on the door after a little bit as well.


    That gets the inside of the house moving, and soon enough I hear the door being unlocked from the inside before it opens to reveal a large Latin American woman with dark frizzy hair wearing an apron stained with many different colors, some of them still wet. She seems briefly caught off guard, her eyes widening slightly as she looks down at me. Not really knowing any other way to handle this situation, I lift up a hand for her to shake.


    "Hello, ma''am," I greet her. "I''m Minerva."


    Recognition dawns on her face, and suddenly she''s all smiles, stepping away from the door and motioning fervently for me to come inside.


    "Minerva! It is so good to finally meet you. Come in, come in!" Her thick Mexican accent makes it a little difficult for me to parse her words, but the intent behind them is obvious and the smile on her face is genuine. I thank her, nodding my head and stepping inside to see a small living room, with a cramped hallway leading back to what I suspect is the kitchen. Down at the other end, a familiar face peeks around the corner: Aurora''s human form. She also looks quite surprised, but I smile and give her a wave.


    I guess they were both expecting me to show up as an adult. Maybe I should have, but it''s too late now. I hope this doesn''t make things awkward¡­?


    "Minerva!" Aurora greets me happily without missing a beat. "I''m so glad you made it! I hope you''re extra-mega hungry, because Mom went a little crazy!"


    "Isabela!" Aurora''s mother snaps, following up with a rapid outpour of Spanish that I have no hope of following. Isabela, huh? Is that Aurora''s birth name? She responds to her mother with what I assume is an apology and then waves me further inside.


    "Come on! Let me introduce you to my family," she insists.


    Her family, as it turns out, is quite large. She has one older sister, one older brother, two younger brothers, and of course her mother and father. It''s a little overwhelming, but they all greet me very politely and I do my best to remember their names. Though speaking of names¡­


    "Should I call you Isabela while we''re here?" I whisper to Aurora when we get a moment out of the spotlight.


    "Why are you in your incarnate form?" she inquires back.


    "I¡­ uh, wanted to be?" I hedge. "I don''t know, I don''t like being taller than you. It''s weird."


    She giggles.


    "It is kind of weird," she agrees. "Yeah, I like you better this way. You can call me Aurora if you want to. I''m not sure Mam¨¢ will appreciate the reminder, but sometimes I think she needs to be reminded more often."


    It''s so funny how, even with a completely different face, Aurora is so unmistakably Aurora. I suppose I''m used to seeing her human form, since we still have to deploy into most fights that way, but it''s still a little hard to think of that face and voice as hers until I see that precocious little smile. She''s a genius, honestly. Still relatively weak, but for her age? Absolutely incredible. And outside the realm of being an Earth Guardian, I wouldn''t be surprised if she''s better than me at almost everything. She''s just a kid, but she still understands people better than I do.


    "I''ll do that, then," I nod to her, and she gives me a happy smile. Before I know it we''re at the dinner table, and I''m glad I at least have the sense to wait for someone else to start eating because I am completely caught off guard when the family starts saying grace. I had no idea Aurora was Christian, so it throws me for a loop, but a few hazy memories from living with my parents helps me not completely mess it up. Then, dinner begins, and with it, conversation.


    "This is exceptionally good," I compliment the meal, since I am not completely devoid of social skills.


    "Thank you," Aurora''s mother nods back. "It is always wonderful to host one of my daughter''s friends. Tell me, what is it you do, exactly?"


    I blink.


    "Ranged offense and tactical command, I suppose," I answer. Immediately, I get the impression that wasn''t the response she was looking for. "Er, sorry, I''m not really sure how much you¡­"


    I trail off a little awkwardly. Aurora clears her throat.


    "We don''t talk about it much," she says. "But they know what we do, and that you''re my team leader and stuff."


    Right, of course they know. They hosted Amaterasu here while the Preservers were fixing the base, didn''t they?


    "You kill monsters?" one of her little brothers blurt. Armando, I think? He looks no more than six years old.


    "We do," I confirm. "Your sister is very good at it."


    "No way," he denies immediately.


    "Uh, really though," I insist. "I couldn''t be more proud of her. She''s smart, strong, and kind. She holds the team together."


    Armando doesn''t seem to know what to say to that, blinking up at me with wide eyes. I suppose he''s gaining a new level of respect for his sister, which¡­ good, I guess. No one else chimes in to continue that particular conversation, though, so I return to eating the prepared food. It really is delicious, and spicy enough that I can actually taste it in my incarnate form, so it would probably kill my brother on the spot. I love it.


    "Do you have¡­ hobbies?" Aurora''s father asks.


    "Well, I hang out with my friend Chloe a lot, and I spend a good chunk of time preparing to go back to school." I almost say ''preparing to go to college,'' but I think that might be a weird thing to say given my current size.


    "School isn''t really a hobby," Aurora''s older sister says.


    I''m not really sure what to say to that. It is for me.


    "¡­I guess I''m a little busy for much else," I shrug awkwardly. "When I''m not working with the team, I do a lot of solo patrols. I don''t want to take up Aurora''s time if I don''t need to."


    More accurately, Fulgora does the solo patrols, but I definitely don''t want to get into that distinction during this dinner.


    If you do, I swear to god I will find some way to kill you.


    I won''t! I just said I won''t!


    Fulgora gives me the mental equivalent of the ''I''m watching you'' gesture while Aurora''s older brother clears his throat to speak up.


    "Thank you for taking care of my sister," he says simply. I give him a firm nod.


    "Of course," I say. "I won''t let anything happen to her. You have my word."


    "Isabela," Aurora''s mother chimes in. "Why don''t you talk about that science project you were working on?"


    The subject is changed so awkwardly I would have thought I was the one who did it, but Aurora takes it in stride, sticking up a little straighter and putting a bright smile on her face as she starts to talk.


    "I''m doing my science fair project on rocket propulsion!" she answers brightly. "I got special permission to do my presentation outside! There''s this whole thing with spaceships where the fuel they carry is really heavy, so they need the fuel to go up, but the more fuel they have the harder it is for them to go up, so I''m using the Coke and Mentos thing with different sized bottles to¡­"


    Her family and I nod along as she happily continues her explanation, her mother visibly relaxing as pride starts to overtake her fear. It seems like quite the complicated setup, but obviously she knows what she''s doing. What is she, in fifth grade? I''m pretty sure when I was in elementary school my mom would just make my science projects for me. They looked impressive, but whenever the judges came by to talk to me about it I never had any idea what to say.


    I should spend more time doing solo patrols. It''s crazy that she''s managing to do all this on top of how hard we work her.


    Agreed. One hundred percent agreed.


    She''s got more of a future than we ever will.


    The dinner continues, and while Aurora wasn''t kidding about her mom making a truly absurd amount of food, the way my incarnate form ingests food makes it pretty difficult for me to get full. My brother says that asking for seconds is one of the best ways to compliment someone''s home cooking, so I make a point to eat a lot. Sure enough, Aurora''s mother seems quite happy with how the meal is received.


    After dinner, I make sure to thank her for the food again, because I''m not really sure how many times I''m supposed to thank someone for hosting me and I figure I''d rather do it too many times than too few. She gives me a polite smile and rapid-fires a bunch of Spanish at her kids, who immediately all get up and start cleaning the table and doing dishes. I stand awkwardly nearby, because I get the impression she wants to talk to me. As I suspected, when the sink starts running and the clank of dishes is loud enough that most people wouldn''t be able to overhear, she turns to address me.


    "Thank you for taking care of my daughter," she says, but I can tell she doesn''t really mean it. She''s terrified.


    "Sometimes I wonder why she said yes," I comment, not really sure what to say.


    "Said yes to what?" Aurora''s mother frowns.


    "To the offer. To being an Earth Guardian. Most of us don''t have anywhere else to go. But Aurora? She could go anywhere. Do anything. Yet no matter how hard it gets, she''s always happy to be one of us."


    "Her name is Isabela," her mother insists.


    "Only sometimes," I say. "Aurora is as real a name as any other."


    The woman purses her lips, a bit irritated that I pushed back. But as an Earth Guardian, denying someone''s incarnate form isn''t something I can let slide.


    "I want to force her to quit," her mother says frankly. "I tried, once. But how do I ground a girl who can fly?"


    "She''s still working on flying, actually," I correct. Her mother gives me a look, and I intuit that maybe wasn''t the right thing to say.


    "I mean that I am afraid she will simply run and live with you," she clarifies. "Your ''Preservers.'' If I try to stop her, I will lose her. But I''ll lose her if she doesn''t stop too, won''t I?"


    "I''ll die before I let that happen," I tell her firmly.


    "That will only work once," her mother says, her eyes narrowing at me. "Will she risk death once?"


    I break eye contact. I can''t hold her gaze.


    "You are older than you look, yes?" her mother asks, seemingly changing the subject. "Isabela said you would be taller."


    "Er, yes ma''am, I''m eighteen," I confirm. It''s true, no matter how I look.


    "What are the chances my little girl will never grow up?"


    "Oh, um, her growth shouldn''t be affected, my situation is¡­"


    She''s glaring at me again. She''s not asking about my height.


    You''re a fucking moron.


    Oh. Oh, of course.


    "¡­I''ll protect her," I insist. "I will."


    "I don''t want your empty promises. I couldn''t find it online, so tell me. What are her chances?"


    "To reach my age?" I ask. "Well, not too bad, especially since she has the advantage of an abnormal number of older girls with her."


    "No," she demands. "What are her chances to make it all the way through? To live her life. What are the chances that I won''t have to bury my baby girl?"


    "W-well, I guess I don''t really know, I''m not sure that¡­ I mean, we''ve only been around for¡ª"


    "Four percent," Aurora says, causing me to jump. She''s staring at us, drying her hands with a dishtowel. The rest of the family, I realize, is staring at us too.


    "Give or take a few," Aurora continues. "I asked Uma''tama when they made me the offer. Minerva''s right, of course. We don''t have great data on it, because the organization hasn''t existed long enough for most of the members to reach adulthood. But of the initial chosen, there are only two still alive today. Four percent."


    "Isabela, I¡­"


    "And I''d appreciate it if you wouldn''t bully Minerva about it, Mam¨¢," Aurora continues. "She''s my leader, and my mentor, but she doesn''t decide whether or not I continue being an Earth Guardian. Only I do. Even if she refused to let me stay on the team, Uma''tama would still find me ways to help."


    "But why? Why you?"


    "Because I love you, Mam¨¢. I love all of you. So I''m not going to let monsters sneak into town ever again. We''re done cleaning up dinner. Can we play a board game or something?"


    We play some board games. It''s a bit quiet and awkward, especially at first, but Aurora''s smile does its best to brighten the mood by force, and her youngest brother doesn''t seem to understand enough of what everyone else was talking about to be particularly deterred. Together, they somehow manage to get us to have an enjoyable time, and before I know it her family is smiling again, saying goodbye, and wishing me a happy night.


    "Do you need a ride home?" Aurora''s mother offers.


    "I''ll be alright, ma''am," I decline politely. "Thank you again for the lovely dinner."


    "And thank you again for looking after my daughter," she nods, and it''s a bit more genuine this time.


    I nod back, hesitating a little. There''s something I want to say, but I''m not sure if I''m overstepping.


    Just do it.


    "I will never tell you not to be afraid of what your daughter does," I say, "but I hope you can also be proud. There''s no one I know more worth being proud of."


    The woman rapidly goes through a series of different emotions before letting out a shaky breath and looking me in the eyes.


    "I am," she says. "I am so very proud."


    With a smile and one last nod, I bid her goodbye and leave the house. It''s a long walk home, but I''d rather walk than fly towards where I live, especially since I''m not in my uniform. Overall, that didn''t go as poorly as I''d feared.


    And I''m glad I don''t have to get mad at anyone.


    Well hey, that''s new from you.


    Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, coward. But in all seriousness that didn''t go too badly. We were even having fun for a while there. I guess it wasn''t a terrible idea to show up in mini-mode.


    Told you so! I think it works best when whoever''s in charge gets to be themselves. I mean, that seems kind of obvious in retrospect, but even though you''d normally hate looking like this it''s not that big of a deal when you can feel how much I like it, right?


    I guess not. I kind of faded into the background for most of the night. Which seems kind of spooky, but I guess that''s just how we work.


    I guess it is. And it''s good we''re figuring that out, because we''re going to have to work together to become as strong as possible.


    Absolutely fuck yes. I''m even more motivated now. We''re going to give that kid a future. We''re going to destroy every last monster in the entire Dark World!


    Train on the way home?


    Hell yes. Let''s do it.