《WAR of ELYSIUM: Omnibus.》


 Prologue: Yua (Part One).

    Three solid smacks on an old shack door.


    Then three more...


    And three more.


    An explosion rang; a scream too, a cry for help. A memory, not here, not now.


    She was eight years old when her mother died, and two days older now. Her name was Yua, but nobody cared, not anymore.


    Three more bangs.


    Yua''s eyes rose from the dusty old looking glass. Home, she was home. Not in the rubble. Not in the death. Her mother''s corpse did not lay bloody and burnt before her. Walls sealed her from the bitter cold of the early morning. Bandages blocked the blood from her eyes. The icy winter rains were held back by shabby wooden tiles, they no longer froze at her seared flesh.


    "Child! Open the door this instant, by order of the ministry!" a voice rang out. A cold voice, angry and authoritative. A soldier?


    Yua rose from her bed. She passed her mother''s empty cot and stood at the door. "I know you are in there, child! Open the door now!" the voice rang yet again.


    Yua did so. The door swung with a hollow creek and a blast of ice flooded the barely insulated shack. Yua looked up to the soldier and he looked down on her. She didn''t like his face. Aged and marked in the wrong places. Wrinkled from fury, not laughter. "It is far past time for assembly, child. Punitive measures will take place," he said, raising a hand to slap her.


    "What the fuck are you doing?" cried another voice. A soldier like the one before her but this one was scarred and his armour dirtied. He clasped the other''s arm to stop his slap.


    "My job, you fool," he retorted, pulling his arm free. "She is an hour late for assembly. She must be punished."


    "Look at her, corporal. She''s battered. She was probably in the attack." They spoke about her but never to her. As though she were a fine vase with a crack through the middle.


    "It doesn''t excuse-"


    "-Yes... It does," the second man interrupted. He turned to face Yua with a false smile, seemingly dismissing the cold soldier. "What''s your name, kiddo?"


    Kiddo. Cold painful rains. Hot painful flames. Kiddo. She said that. She is saying that. She is burning and bleeding... and dying. She still loves her daughter, though. She says, "Run, kiddo. Run far," and she dies. She died. She''s been dead. Two days dead. She isn''t here; she isn''t saying kiddo. Somebody else was. Somebody else was stood in front of Yua. Maybe he can help? Maybe he is here to save her mum?


    No, he can''t help her. She is two days dead. He is here for Yua. He is talking to Yua. He asked her a question.


    "Yua... sir. My name is Yua," she eked out. She did not meet his gaze nor did her eyes wander. They were fixed forward. Not on anything in particular, just forward.


    "He is right, Yua. Even if he is a prick. Assembly started an hour ago. You know your way?" the soldier tentatively asked. Yua couldn''t answer. Instead, she nodded her head and walked past the soldier, never daring to look him in the eyes.


    <hr>


    A crowd had gathered. Men and women, near on 10,000. This was typical in the stacks where Yua grew up. ASAG, a fishing territory under the control of the Ministry of Galithia. Yua carved a path through the great crowd. She weaved between torn rags and wooden prosthetics. She ducked the legs of fishermen trying to get a proper view of the stage. Eventually, she had managed to reach the front rows. Before she and the crowd of ragged peasantry stood a thin line of pure white armoured soldiers, armed with rifles, holding the rabble back from the ornately carved stone stage.


    A well-dressed man stood astage, mid-way through his address. He wore the garb of an officer, a commander. He spoke of schedules and quotas and things Yua could not understand. His words were flowery and elegant. So much so that the folk listening could barely make out the veiled threats should quotas be missed. He rambled and babbled and espoused and declared. Words and commandments Yua had grown all too weary of even at her young age. Platitudes and foreign values imported to maintain control over the furthest horizon of the Ministry''s empire. Yua waited in bored silence for the end of the address, or at least for some news.


    Yua''s wait was rewarded when, at the very tail end of the address, a prisoner was dragged astage. "Now, ladies and gentlemen. I bring forth my final topic of discussion," the commander began with a flourish of his hand indicating for the young man to be dragged in chains. "Two nights past our community suffered a terrible affront. A strike at the heart... The very core of ASAG. Two nights past, a bomb was detonated at Lucky''s bakery, claiming the lives of three women; two men and a child. Injuring countless more, no doubt. Both physically... And mentally." He took a breath, lavishing his eyes over the enraptured crowd.


    "For how may we sleep in peace knowing killers, murderers, scum! Prowl our streets and claim the lives of our friends. Today, a bakery. Tomorrow? Mayhaps... a school? A hospital? They are not like us! They know no empathy, nor do they comprehend the sanctity of life." A stir began in the crowd. A subtle symphony of rising fear. The commander paused a moment, allowing the crowd to settle; to simmer.


    "But - brothers and sisters - we are not without hope! My men have worked tirelessly to apprehend the murderer responsible. My friends... We succeeded. I hold before you, Josef Vie. An agent of the so-called Phoenix Alliance. A group of terrorists - and make no mistake, terrorists they are - that seek nothing but to undo the good and the hope given unto us by our friends in the Ministry. Yes, hard times are to be had under the ministry. This much is obvious. But look, friends, at your alternative!"


    Josef was shoved to the ground at the commander''s feet. He cackled and laughed like a raving lunatic. He mumbled words none could decipher as his eyes darted all around the crowd. Face to face, to face, to face. He looked as though he was imagining what each man, woman and child looked like without any skin. The commander knelt beside him, seemingly unfazed by Josef''s blatant lunacy. He grabbed Josef by the throat and raised him to his feet.


    "This is the quality of our enemy. The depths of their depravity are plain to see." The commander placed Josef before a microphone. "Tell them why exactly it is you murdered women and children! Butchered them in these very streets!"


    "I greet you all, ASAG!" Josef said. The entire crowd fell deathly silent. It was not a good silence though; it was the kind of silence one could slice with a blade. Josef took a breath and loosed a wicked grin. "It is true, I freely admit, that I - Josef Vie - am responsible for the attack on Lucky''s bakery!" He stood a moment, basking in the crowd as though awaiting applause. "You may ask why I did so... My answer would be simple! I wished the bakery to be gone. It was ugly and frankly, it ruined the aesthetic of the whole block!"


    The crowd yelled out in disgust as a wicked cackle filled the air. The idea that so many lives were affected, so many families torn apart, over a simple artistic fancy. Yua listened to the man talk, he wasn''t a soldier, he was a performer. He spoke like a supervillain from one of her shows. He chewed the scenery as if he wasn''t facing the headsman''s axe but an adoring theatre. Reason fought hatred within her. She looked upon this man, this beast, Josef and knew him to be her mother''s killer and yet within, deep within, a part of Yua screamed out that something was being withheld from her. Yua hushed her suspicions, allowing her grief and rage to flow. She found herself joining the crowd in yelling and insulting Josef. Words flew from her tongue she never knew she could say, words her mother would kill her for so much as knowing.


    No chance of that now though.


    "Friends, please! Be calm," the commander announced. He raised his hand to the crowd and, like a well-practised orchestra, they quietened on cue. The commander paced for a moment seemingly in a ponderous trance. "The Alliance. These... men, bring only slaughter and misery. They promise liberty and freedom and deliver these only in death! They lie, they murder, they strike at what makes us human!" The commander looked over the crowd. His eyes locked with Yua. He appraised her and noted her wounds. "Now, ladies and gentlemen. I am but a humble instrument of you, the people. As such, I present the people with a choice," he declared with a stifled grin. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    "Josef Vie requires punishment. I leave his fate unto you, the people," he said, with his crooked smile on full display.


    Roars erupted from the crowd. "Death!" they called. "Shoot the bastard!" they demanded. The commander looked out to his crowd, to his beautiful orchestra - played to perfection.


    "You," he commanded, pointing directly at Yua. "Come."


    As quickly as they had erupted, the fickle crowd had settled. All surrounding Yua pushed her forth towards the stage. Dead silence surrounded broken only by the delicate taps of Yua''s bare feet against the cobbled streets. Ten steps felt like ten thousand yet she must take fifty more. Eyes pierce the girl like fingers running through sand searching for something of value just beneath the surface. Yua hoped there was nothing to be found but that didn''t stop them from searching.


    She arrived at the stage. The commander looked her up and down before bowing to her. "What is your name child?"


    "Yua... Sir," she responded, shrinking into herself.


    "Were you in the attack, Yua?" he asked, kneeling close to her. She nodded slightly, her eyes falling to his shoes. "Where are your parents, child?" he continued. Yua''s eyes filled with tears but she did not speak. Her eyes found courage, or perhaps wrath, and fixed upon Josef. "My mother, sir... She... She died in the attack," Yua said, her voice filling with a new strength.


    "What was her name?" The commander asked as the crowd began to stir yet again.


    "Akemi, sir... Her name is-," She hesitated for a heartbeat. "Was, Ito Akemi," she corrected as her newfound strength began to strain. Yua was surprised by the commander''s reaction to hearing this. He paused for a while too long. Left too much empty air. He must have known the name, perhaps they knew each other. He looked at her, no longer appraisingly but with familiarity; recognition.


    "I really hate to split up families," Josef laughed. "Why don''t you go kill yourself and join her? Hell, let me outta these chains and I''ll choke 10 grams of lead down your throat. Fuck it! I''ll sort each one of you MOG fucks out with your own dose of fire and brimstone!" he continued, filling in the empty air the commander''s hesitation had left. For a final time, the crowd grew furious, seemingly actually out of control.


    "It''s your decision, Yua! Mercy or consequences? Life or death?" the commander shouted over the crowd. He drew his ceremonial pistol and placed it to the back of Josef''s head. "Decide!"


    Yua stood, staring at Josef. His eyes weren''t as crazed up close. His smile seemed phoney. He was scared. Yua liked that. She liked that she scared the man who murdered her mother. She liked that his life depended on her word. She could allow him mercy; it would be so easy and it would be so righteous. And yet...


    "Kill him."


    <hr>


    He fell down strange. That was her first thought. Yua had seen a man die before. It was like his legs simply stopped working. He folded and collapsed straight down. She heard bones crunch last time. This was different. He fell down strange. He collapsed with a great sway. His arms covered his head before he landed. It was almost like his corpse was afraid of being hurt by the fall.


    It was loud, she realised. Too loud. The shot rang still in her ears even over the roaring crowd. He didn''t look dead. His eyes were shut, he could just be sleeping. That''s when she noticed the red. From his nose, his eyes, the back of his head. More of it than she expected and yet not nearly as much as his victims had bled. Yua thought she would like killing Josef but she was wrong. It didn''t feel good, it certainly didn''t feel bad and she didn''t regret it, but it didn''t feel good. Yua felt little. Not sad or happy, not angry, not relieved. One feeling did nag at the back of her mind, however. Yua was thirsty. She would have to walk all the way home to get a drink after the assembly was over.


    "Yua," the commander said. He broke Yua''s daze and her eyes finally relinquished their grasp on Josef''s corpse. She looked to the commander, deep into his eyes now. She had seemingly forgotten her timidity. The commander was momentarily unnerved by this but quickly regained his composure. "Come with me, child," he continued, his hand outstretched.


    Yua took his hand. It swallowed hers. The wrinkled, well-manicured fingers bore no signs of hard work. She remembered her mother''s hands. Hard and callused, covered in scars. She thought the two ought to have traded. The commander scarred and the baxter, gentle and clean.


    She forgot for a moment, within his hand, that yet another corpse lay before her and that a hungry horde had been driven rabid by her single order. She forgot for a moment, within his hand, that she - even amongst the horde - was well and truly alone. He pulled her away towards a craft. It flew an inch above the ground on four blue engines radiating a purple wave of energy that looked to her like legs on a dog. She sat in one of four empty seats and the commander joined her. Two guards sat across from them. They were real soldiers. Cold and distant yet completely present, aware.


    The open door slid shut with an audible seal. Yua was too small in her seat to wear her belt and so she sat on her knees to prop herself high enough to look out of the window. They were moving. Up and up. She couldn''t tell, she had been in a carriage before and felt her belly swing around inside her as it moved but she didn''t feel anything right now.


    It was all so small now. There was her school, her street and the park she played in with her friends...


    There was the bakery. The crater. The graveyard. So small she could crush them all at once with her thumb alone.


    It didn''t matter now. The commander was taking her away from it all. From the loneliness, the cold shack, and the angry horde who looked as ants from here. None of it mattered.


    "Sir, Cannee has been extracted. Moving to VESTAG," the left soldier said. He took his hand from his ear and rested it on his rifle. ¡°Considering how hesitant he was, he did a hell of a job.¡±


    "Good. He earned our discretion today, see to it the rebels don¡¯t find him," The commander said. Yua noticed him glance over to her. It was a look she knew well. It was a look her mother gave her when she had overheard something she wasn''t supposed to. Something spoken accidentally without realising she was present. She had a gift for being forgotten, overlooked. A gift well utilised throughout her childhood much to her mother''s dismay.


    <hr>


    They began to descend at their destination. A fortress less than a few kilometres from ASAG. Yua looked out at the great walls. She couldn''t tell if they were steel or concrete but they stood thicker than her entire house and more than ten times the height. Rings of bunkers and hangars surrounded inside and out of the walls. Soldiers marched in formation and tanks rolled to their beds. Within the walls was a kind of village.


    She saw tall towers and rows of homes. Not like the homes at ASAG. These were large, ornate. Wood and brick rather than splinters and tarps. Painted in all colours and surrounded by greenery and lavish gardens. At the centre, the most resplendent of them all. A grand mansion of European design. A cathedral of military might. Guard houses encircled the majestic fields around the home.


    The craft touched down in the mansion''s garden. A designated parking spot, it seemed, for the commander. The door opened and the air seal broke. Lavender and rose; lilac and gooseberries. Air so fresh Yua assumed she must have stepped out into a cloud. No oil, no steel; no blood and iron. The rot of fish and stench of sweat were already mere memories after a single breath. Her bare feet met wet grass as she dropped from the ship. It was the first time she had ever felt grass, real grass not the green plastic behind her school that cut her knees and palms. "Come, child," the commander whispered as he stepped out from the craft. "When we enter, Yua, I expect you to stand straight and speak when spoken to. Understand?"


    "Yes, sir," she answered, straightening out her back. His tone was cold and his eyes seemed filled with dread. He looked Yua up and down as though justifying something to himself. He turned on his heel, stood straight with his head held high and his hands linked behind his back, and marched on. "Very well. Follow," he ordered.


    He paced much too quickly for Yua; she bounced and almost ran to keep alongside him. By the time they arrived at a grand staircase, Yua had drained her stamina entirely. The commander looked at her and began up the stairs without a word. Yua hopped up, one by one. Chasing close at his tail.


    Someone stood at the peak of the staircase. He wore a suit, old fashioned but elegant; fresh and timeless, unlike the sagging old man wearing it.


    "Good afternoon, commander," he said. His voice was gentle and clear but had faded after a long life. He turned to Yua and, after a short appraisal of her ragged garb, lightly bowed to her, "And who may our guest be? I don''t believe our general has sent for any new servantry?"


    "Not a servant," the commander corrected. He stepped beside the man and whispered something in his ear. Yua could not hear what was said but immediately noticed the man''s expression soften. The commander stepped back beside Yua.


    "This is Stanley Aicht, the general''s personal aid," he motioned for Yua to introduce herself. She sputtered and mumbled and tripped over her words but after gathering herself, she stood straight and looked Stanley in the eyes.


    "Yua, sir... My- my name is Ito Yua," she said, only lightly stumbling. Stanley looked at her with a mixture of confusion and something else, something Yua couldn''t decipher. Curiosity? Not quite. He looked her in the eyes with a familial warmth. "Ah, a native. I see... Welcome, Frau Yua, it is the pleasure of a lifetime to meet you," his smile was sincere despite his ''refined'' attitude. Yua returned it in kind.

 Prologue: Yua (Part Two)

    Stanley ushered the two into the house. They walked through a grand hallway, adorned with historical paintings. The frames didn''t hold the titles of the pictures but the names of battles, years. One painting, A woman without eyebrows grinning before rocks and water, was labelled as, "Macao, 2162. Eight casualties." Stanley noticed Yua trying to read the label beneath the painting and walked over to her. The commander didn''t notice the two stop, that or he didn''t care and continued on.


    "Her name was Lisa Gherardini," Stanley said. He moved beside Yua.


    "Who was she?" Yua asked, seemingly entranced by the painting.


    "I don''t know. Nobody does anymore. Before the old war, I''m sure everyone knew. She was one of the most famous women in the world. Now... We can only guess. The painting, we believe, was created in the 1400s. By whom or for what purpose is lost to history," he said. His words were twinged with a hint of sorrow, mourning for what was lost.


    "That''s sad," Yua said. Stanley laughed at the innocence of her response.


    "Yes, I suppose it is. And yet there is a certain beauty to it, don''t you think?"


    "What do you mean?"


    "For hundreds of years, this painting was the single most famous image in the world. Now? Simply a curiosity in the hallway. None before you have bothered to know her name and once I pass, you may well be the last," he paused a moment. "All that fame, yet what did it ever do? All knew her and yet a painting never fed a starving child; never took action to make the world any brighter. She simply sat there, grinning, as the world ended around her. So why this painting? Why Lady Lisa?" Stanley looked to Yua. This was not rhetorical; he was asking her opinion.


    "Maybe it wasn''t the lady in the painting? Maybe it was why she was painted," she answered. "Maybe it was who painted her?"


    "You think the painting to be more than the paint?"


    "I- I don''t know what that means," Yua admitted. Stanley looked at her again. He smiled. It was a new smile. He smiled as though he knew something she didn''t. He smiled as though she gave the right answer to a question he hadn''t asked. "Come along, Frau Yua. We have much to do before the general arrives." Stanley began to walk on.


    "What? I''m meeting the general? Why?" Yua asked, stood still in fear. Stanley turned back to her, his smile still so warm.


    "Ah, I apologise my lady. I had assumed you had been told of your meeting."


    Yua fervently shook her head.


    "General Hosun Akyama, the ward of the east, the lord of this manor, has invited you to an audience this evening when he arrives home," he announced.


    "Why me?"


    "Why? For your mother, of course."


    For her mother? What did that mean? Yua was about to ask for elaboration but Stanley raised his finger to her. He moved on and Yua realised she would have no answers until she met the general.


    <hr>


    "My heavens, child! Bones and sinew! Where''s the meat?" cried the kindly old woman as she washed the dirt from Yua''s hair. Tug, pull, scrub and splash. The most violent bath she had ever endured. Having her eyebrows plucked and nails clipped felt closer to torture than a spa treatment.


    It was safe to say Yua was a stranger to customs of so-called ¡®high society¡¯.


    Not all of it was negative, however. Once the grime was scrubbed and burnt from her flesh, a young woman sat her down and spoke with her. She couldn''t have been older than twenty. She brushed Yua''s hair as they spoke. She asked Yua''s story. Her past, her hobbies, her friends. She spoke like they were sisters. Yua had always wanted a sister. Somebody to play with and talk with, it was nice to pretend, even for a little while.


    The girl coated a thin foundation on Yua while she asked what her favourite food was. She used eyeliner and blush while she asked about her childhood and Yua answered all her questions enthusiastically until finally, as the girl applied the finishing touches, she asked, "Where''s your mum today?"


    Yua choked on her smile. She tried to think of a way to answer without ruining the conversation. "She''s... well she passed."


    The girl stopped dead. "Yua, poor baby, I''m so sorry! I had no idea. You must live with your father then, right?" She asked. She didn''t let Yua answer. She pulled her into a hug and held her tightly for a moment. When she released her, she looked deep into Yua''s eyes without saying a word.


    "I- don''t know my father. My mother told me he was a soldier; that he died fighting some battle against a band of Macks," Yua said, trying to break the girl''s attention before she broke down to tears.


    "So, it''s just you now?"


    Yua didn''t answer. She just shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Oh, I''m so sorry! I''m being awful. You don''t want to talk of this," the girl said, shame filling her cheeks. She jumped out of her chair and ran over to the door of the room. Yua watched her. She was awed by her beauty. Her deep chestnut hair flowed and shimmered down to her shoulders as she sprung across the room. Her smile radiated and shone. Her kind hazel eyes glimmered with hope. Yua found herself jealous of the girl, of her effortless beauty and grace.


    The girl swung the door open and a legion of servants entered holding elegant gowns and beautiful outfits. None of which had any place being near Yua. The girl looked at Yua with a gleeful smile. She picked out one outfit after another. She threw one out as, "The colours don''t match your aura." She threw another saying, "no, no, no! We have to show off that smile!"


    She threw ten more away for reasons ranging from being too, "Scorpio," and being too, ¡°pretentious.¡±


    All the hassle was worth it in Yua''s eyes, for the end result was breath-taking. A deep purple dress with a white rim. Sleeves looping over her thumb. It was simple and unencumbered yet beautiful. The girl fiddled with the fitting and brought it to fit her properly. She brought Yua''s raven black hair into an ornate braid that reached the middle of her back. She had emerald plates within the braid and along with the modest dress, made Yua feel like royalty; like a princess.


    <hr>


    A grand table sat proud in a room decorated by fine art and finer servants. All was perfect within the dining room, not a hair out of place. Yua was guided by Stanley to sit at the head of the table. She did so.


    One after another, soldiers and politicians entered the room. People of high esteem, all announced upon their arrival for deeds of their forefathers. Yua felt their eyes all fall upon her. She felt out of place, like an attraction in a zoo. They sat along the table and spoke to each other. None spoke to Yua, however.


    She sat for an hour or so before she noticed the girl from earlier sneak in. She stood amongst the servants. Yua waved to her but the woman didn''t move. She stood to attention alongside the other servants, still as a statue. She did let off a small wink, however, and held back a smirk upon seeing Yua trying to get her attention.


    "How was your time here, young Yua?" asked the commander. He walked in from behind her and sat in the last empty seat beside her.


    "Incredible, sir! Everyone has been calling me the guest of honour," she gleefully answered. Yua was struggling to stay seated. She was giddy and bouncing as she looked around the grand hall. The commander placed a calming hand on her shoulder.


    Before her, on the grand table, was a feast. Succulent pork, fresh fish and sizzling beef. Mounds of potato, carrots and peas. More food than Yua had ever seen. On a plate directly before her was perfectly roasted char siu, dressed with spring rolls and a side dish of wonton soup. Just as her mother made before she went on a trip in the weeks prior. Just as Yua had described to the serving girl earlier. When did she have chance to tell the cooking staff about her favourite dishes?


    Six clashes of silver on glass silenced the hall of false heroes. The servants walked to the sides of those sat down. Yua felt a hand stroke the back of her neck. She looked behind her to see the girl from earlier. She was stood tall and looked to the roof just as all the other servants did, only she had subtly put her hand out to Yua. Yua took her hand and sat waiting for what would come next.


    "Ladies and gentlemen. Your host for tonight has arrived. I present to you: General Hosun Akyama, leader of the ninth battalion; the ward of the east; the grand victor of the battles of Macao, Berlin, London, Beijing, Ho Chi Min; slayer of the Tenant and personal champion of sect head Matias Malthines!" Stanley rang out. The whole hall rose to this. The servants placed their hands across to their hearts. The girl nudged Yua to get her to stand. Yua slid from her chair with a light thud. She realised only then, that she was shorter than the table. The girl struggled back a giggle at seeing Yua''s forehead sliding across the table as she stood on the very tips of her toes.


    Yua could not see the grand doors swing open, nor could she see the tier of man that entered. She could not see his short black and grey hair. She had no idea he was wearing an impressive, yet heavily worn, military uniform. His chest was heavy with medals, ribbons and commendations. The perfectly polished boots couldn''t hide where the soles had been thoroughly worn down. While his face bore no notable scars, his sleeves barely contained dozens. He entered and marched forward to the opposite head of the table.


    "I welcome you, friends, and I apologise for my tardiness. Some business with an old friend, I''m afraid. Seems he decided to redecorate a fortress with high explosives. But enough of that! Tonight, we celebrate, tonight we feast, tonight we..." General Hosun trailed off. His eyes fell on the opposite head of the table. The barely contained laughter of the serving girl stood over a little forehead, bouncing up and down, apparently attempting to get a good view.


    He looked over to Stanley, wordless but his mouth agape. Stanley dashed to his side and whispered into his ear. Hosun did not react well to whatever Stanley had to say. He fell down into his chair and looked over to Yua''s forehead. "Akemi''s?" he whispered to himself, seemingly in disbelief.


    Hosun raised his hand, seemingly remembering his guests and they all sat in unison. The girl had to help Yua back into the chair. She stroked Yua''s hair back into place and moved to fill her drink. Yua composed herself and looked out to the table only to realise that everyone was focused solely on her. Her face drained of all colour. She looked to Hosun, finally, she saw his face. She realised he was also ''a native'' the only such gentleman in the hall. He looked somehow familiar, a feeling she was sick of at this point. Something was too familiar about everything here, as if she had been here before, time and again. Hosun looked at her, and through her. He wasn''t seeing Yua, he was seeing a ghost.


    "Ah, fuck it," he grunted to himself as he stood from his chair. "Everyone, my deepest apologies, but it would seem I have more pressing matters to attend to. I must ask you all to move along and we will attempt this evening again at some other point."


    "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would follow me," Stanley announced. The guests followed obediently. Nobody dared grumble or moan. They simply filed out smiling and bowing. Yua stood to leave with them but the girl placed a firm hand on her shoulder to hold her in place.


    A moment of silence passed as Hosun looked just behind Yua''s eyes. He walked from his seat and knelt down by her side. Still, he didn''t speak. Yua looked into his grey eyes for only a moment before nerves took her over and she shrunk into the girl beside her.


    "Miss Ito, is it?" He asked.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Y-yes, sir," she whispered. "Yua, sir."


    "Your mother, Yua, describe her to me," he commanded. Yua squoze the girl''s hand and she answered for Yua.


    "Sir, we spoke earlier. She described her mother, Akemi, as short; dark-haired but muscularly built. She was a baxter, and passed away in an alliance attack two days ago," she said, looking to Yua for confirmation.


    "Two days? The alliance? That doesn''t make sense..." Hosun said. He paused for a while, he looked to be deep in thought then laughed, "A muscular baker, ey?" He looked to Yua. "Did she have any scars?" he asked. Yua nodded.


    "Yes, sir. Many. She said they were from her time escaping the alliance," she answered.


    Hosun laughed again, "Any specifically notable scars?"


    "Yes sir," she answered after a moments contemplation. "She had a line - A deep scar along her forearm. Oh, and she had a new one! She went away, about a week ago. When she got back, she had a scar through her palm," Yua recounted. As she spoke, Yua realised how strange it was that her mother - a humble baxter - was so thoroughly covered in scars. Yua began to bite at her cheek, a tic she had inherited from her mother during stressful times.


    "Okay... I believe you, Yua," Hosun said. His voice was warm but not coddling. He didn''t speak to her like a child but an old friend. "There is much you don''t know about your mother, Yua. Much I can teach you," he said. Yua didn''t speak. She looked at Hosun blankly. What did he know?


    "Sir... General. C-can I ask..." Yua began before her nerve caught her tongue.


    "Go ahead kiddo, please."


    Kiddo. Not again. He said it too. Kiddo. Why was everyone saying it? Why did she feel the blood again? Why was her mother in front of her again? Why was her skin melting from her flesh? Yua was in a dining room, not the bakery, so why could she smell singed flesh? "Run, kiddo. Run far." It echoed from the walls, from the ceiling, from the table. But there was no table there? There was no table at the bakery. She wasn''t at the bakery.


    Kiddo may have rung in her ears but it wasn''t her mother''s voice that it rang in. It was a man. A man sat in front of her. He could help her. Not her mother, nobody could help her - she wasn''t here. He could help Yua.


    She could help Yua. Who is she? She held Yua''s hand. She was beautiful and smiled like an angel. Not Akemi, this was the servant, the kind girl. Yua realised she didn''t know her name. It didn''t matter, she was a friend and she was stood in a dining hall. Yua was too. She was stood. Why was she stood?


    She was sat earlier but now she had stood up. She was walking. Leaving the dining room. Where was she going? Hosun was talking to her about secrets and opportunities but Yua couldn''t hear him. She was too focused on walking.


    Left foot; right foot. Left foot; right foot. The girl lead Yua by the hand. She didn''t speak but kept her smile. Hosun walked ahead. Things were clearer now. Guards stood vigil around her. Stairs. Left; right. Left; right. "Don''t fall Yua," She thought to herself. "Please... just don''t fall."


    <hr>


    "Yua," Hosun said. He had been talking but only now noticed Yua hadn''t been listening. Yua was startled but finally regained her focus. She looked to Hosun. They were in a new room. It was darker and had no windows. A large mat lay across the floor. Wooden weapons hung from the deep red walls. Square pillars were rowed along the skirts of the room, holding up the ceiling. Red-tinted lamps dangled from exposed wood rafters. "Are you alright?" he asked in a low rumble.


    "Yes, sir. I- I''m sorry," she stuttered. Yua couldn''t stop her hand from shaking so she gripped the hem of her skirt tight enough that she felt her fingers go numb. "It''s just..."


    "Just what?" Hosun encouraged after a moments silence.


    "Just... Why me, sir? Why am I here?" she finally asked. He didn''t answer for a moment. He seemed deep in thought. It seemed to Yua as if he was deciding how best to answer the question without letting something slip. Finally, he answered with the truth, "Your mother, Yua. She wasn''t a baker, or baxter as you said. She was... A spy, a soldier. A close friend."


    A spy? Akemi? Yua couldn''t believe what she was hearing. Akemi was so normal, so typical. A loving mother, a pillar of her community, not a trained killer. Hosun could see her confusion and doubt plainly across her face. He placed a hand on her shoulder and moved her to the back of the room. Above a mounted spear was a framed photo. In it was a young man, Hosun. He was skinny, scrawny even. Nothing like the hulk stood before her. He wasn''t alone in the picture, however.


    There was a dark-haired teenage boy and a tall red-haired girl stood huddled over a flame. Yua scoured the picture for some kind of explanation until she saw, clear as day, Akemi; her beloved and devoted mother, armed to the teeth in sleek black body armour. She looked lethal, dangerous. She looked like a whole different woman, but it was her, there could be no doubt.


    "I owe her a lot, more than I could ever hope to repay, even now. But she''s gone. Frankly, the least I can do for her is... Well, make sure you are taken care of," Hosun continued. He paused to allow Yua to answer but let out a resigned sigh when she didn''t speak. She was completely entranced by the picture, by her mother.


    Hosun shifted awkwardly. The floorboards beneath him screeched out.


    "What I''m trying to say is... I could take care of you, raise you," he said, his confidence waning. "Train you," he finished. Hosun scratched behind his ear as he tucked his hands away within his jacket. Yua looked up at him. Her gaze was distant, confused. It unnerved him greatly. Yua noticed that she made him uncomfortable. She was curious why.


    Something sparked in Yua''s mind. Something had been off this whole day. Josef, the commander, the servant girl, Hosun. Something wasn''t adding up. Hosun noticed her deep thought. Her wrinkled brow and outstuck tongue. He laughed with a tinge of timidity. "I recognise that look well, Yua,¡± he said. "You''re figuring something out... Putting something together." He smiled warmly; a twinkle of nostalgia held his eye. "Your mother made the exact same face."


    Yua considered. It started with Josef. He was evil. Pure evil. He revelled in death and raved in suffering. Was it a coincidence he killed her mother? A ministry spy with connections as high as the warden of the east. Did he target her?


    Was it an assassination instead of a terrorist attack as it seemed? No, that man was rabid. Yua didn''t believe he was capable of planning an assassination. Akemi''s voice rang in Yua''s mind, "Evil is performative, an intimidation tactic. No man is truly evil they just have much to gain from you dismissing them as such."


    Was Akemi trying to tell her something? Yua thought back to the stage. To Josef, knelt in chains before her. To his eyes. Not crazed, afraid. Akemi was right. He wasn''t insane, he was lying. The whole time he spent on the stage was a performance. But who was he performing for? Why would he want civilians to believe the alliance was evil?


    Unless... He wasn''t with the alliance. What was it the soldier said to the commander? "Cannee has been extracted. Moving to VESTAG."


    Who was Cannee? If he was simply some soldier, why was it that the commander didn''t want her hearing about him? Why did he need hiding from the rebels?


    VESTAG? Yua had heard of VESTAG. Another stack just like ASAG. They had suffered an attack recently too. Could it be a coincidence?


    Yua gathered all her thoughts. Akemi, a high-ranking spy, had been killed in a supposedly random attack by a supposed alliance operative who was pretending to be insane. The operative was then killed and died in an overly dramatic, almost false, way. Somebody called Cannee had been covertly extracted from ASAG and taken to VESTAG.


    "Don''t leave me in suspense, Yua. What is it?" Hosun asked after an uncomfortable moment silence.


    "It wasn''t Cannee, sir," Yua said. She paused to gauge his reaction and was pleased to see him so unnerved by her saying that.


    "How do you know that name?" He asked. Yua didn''t respond, she looked him in the eyes with unbroken focus. "You shouldn''t know that name," He said, his tone serious, almost annoyed. "So I''ll ask you once and you will answer. What wasn''t Cannee?"


    His reaction gave Yua confidence. She was right, Cannee was related, maybe even responsible.


    "Cannee, sir... That''s Josef Vie''s real name. The man they executed earlier," she stated. "He''s an actor, a performer. He pretended to be Josef Vie, to be the killer," Yua stated. "Right?"


    Hosun looked at her. He was serious, angry, but not at Yua. He wasn''t angry at what she was saying but that she had been given enough information to say it at all. He raised a hand to hush her and turned his back. He crept over to the serving girl and whispered into her ear. She left the room in a hurry. Hosun didn''t turn back to Yua. "Anything else?" he asked while looking to the door.


    "The attack that killed my mother. It wasn''t random, right? It was an assassination. The alliance found her and killed her, right?" she answered with much less vigour. Hosun didn''t answer again.


    The door swung open with a great crack! The commander barrelled down the stairs like rolling thunder. He stood before Hosun, panting. A layer sweat glistened from his reddened face. "Sir! You called for me?" the commander panted. A small bead of sweat dripped from his nose and landed on his tongue. He sputtered but refrained from spitting in the general''s presence.


    The general''s boot stomped down before the commander. Hosun could feel the commander''s baited breath against his face. His wrath was evident despite his stoic visage. Hosun stood a foot taller than the commander. A soldier, a warrior, stood before and above an aristocrat. One stood with cool confidence earned over a lifetime and the other shook as he tried to maintain his lessening composure.


    "You have a problem... Commander," Hosun whispered, hatred seethed from between gritted teeth upon calling the coward a commander. He didn''t receive a response and stepped closer. "Our young friend here seems to believe you are a liar."


    "Sir?" The commander eked. His eyes fell to Yua but quickly snapped back to the roof.


    "She seems to be under the impression that your captive, Mr Vie, isn''t in fact an alliance spy but is an actor. Do you have anything to say to that?" Hosun said. The commander looked awkwardly between Hosun and Yua, unsure of how to respond.


    "How dare she!" The commander finally reacted. His voice was shaky at first but found its strength soon enough. "I will not have my honour, my integrity, questioned by a damn child... a streetrat... a fucking nativ-" he was cut off by a firm hand to his shoulder.


    "A native... James?" Hosun interrupted, cold as ice. Fear overtook the commander. Colour drained from his face. He stuttered out refusals and apologies but none of it could be considered whole words.


    "Sir! I didn''t mean... I just. This child questioned my integrity; my loyalty!" His eyes darted between Hosun''s. "I am sorry, sir."


    "I believe I''m questioning your loyalty right now, James. It seems you harbour some resentment towards ''natives''. It must kill you to answer to one, to kneel at the boots of your lesser? I''d bet such a gentleman would jump at any opportunity to undermine his general," Hosun derided. His composure began to wane as a spiteful joy slipped from the cracks in his well-practiced facade.


    The commander fell to his knee with his shivering head bowed. "Sir, I-" He began.


    "Leave, James," Hosun interrupted. His voice was cold and assertive and the commander had already left by the time Hosun had finished speaking. Hosun slowly turned towards the photograph of Akemi. A pensive misery drew him in and words seemed to disappear in his throat.


    "You''re right, Yua. Well done," Hosun said in a withdrawn voice. "You really are Akemi''s daughter."


    Yua couldn''t respond. She felt as though Hosun was on the verge of saying something more yet nothing came. A brief silence surrounded them and neither dared to breach it. Heavy breathing and a racing pulse drowned out any distant background noises from Yua''s ears. He shifted to look at Yua and she shifted to meet his gaze. "Stay here with me, Yua. Let me teach you to be like her. Let me hone you into something incredible. Something powerful. So powerful you''ll never need to fear again. Let me show you your mother''s ways. Let me help you," Hosun pleaded. His voice quivered but he managed to hold his composure. His eyes pierced hers as though he saw beyond the green of her iris. His smile rang hollow and she knew he wore it to mask his desperation. Why was he so desperate for her to stay?


    "Why do you owe my mother so much? Why are you so insistent on me staying?" Yua asked. She sounded more confident than she ought to. It was as if she grew larger the more uncomfortable Hosun became. He didn''t answer. His eyes pled that she ask no more but he knew she would not desist. A resigned sigh slipped from his pursed lips as he considered his words with visible care.


    "Akemi and I were... Close. I owe her more than my life. When she disappeared... It- It crushed me." Hosun waited a moment, contemplating his words again. "But knowing why she left... Knowing she left for you; it makes sense now. I know the hole that Akemi leaves within you. I know what you are going through is a hundred times worse than what I suffered. I want to help you, to feel like I''m finally helping her. I want to help you burn brighter than even your mother ever did."


    His words became somewhat frantic, desperate. Yua started to think that this was less to do with herself and more to do with Hosun''s unresolved trouble with her mother.


    She tried to appraise him. He stood hunched, his shoulders high. His hands danced between his tightly sewn pockets and his sweaty brow. The calm and commanding general had left with the commander. Stood before her was a man, desperate for something from Yua. Through his nerves and skittish manner, Yua noticed his eyes. They were steady and pleading. No matter how much he fidgeted and shuffled - his eyes never waned. He was transfixed, entranced by her. He looked at her not as an apprentice as his words led her to believe.


    He wanted to love her. He looked at her like a father would a daughter. Maybe he was? Her mother always said that her father was a soldier - though one that had died in battle - was it so farfetched? They didn''t look alike; She was short, even for her age, and her hair was a raven black. He was tall and broad with deep brown hair. Her eyes were green but her mother''s were brown. She always assumed she got her eyes from her father. Hosun''s eyes would have been near black were they not so faded from time into grey.


    Yua had stood in silence for a while too long at this point. Hosun''s pleading eyes grew weary but he persisted. He needed an answer. "There is a wisp of flame within you, Yua. Let me fan it - Hone it - into something spectacular... Please."


    Yua looked to him. To this man stood before her, seemingly begging for her to trust him and she, for the first time since her mother died, felt hope.


    "Where do I start?"

 Chapter One: The Child

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    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


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 Chapter One: The Child

    She opened her eyes to darkness. Rubble blocked out the sky and blood pooled in her mouth. Her name was Adeladia and she was afraid.


    She did not call out. She pushed and clawed at the stony sky until she felt the setting sun warm her face. The grit snapped her nails and her clothes snagged and tore on exposed steel poles. Her hand slipped on the fresh frost that had formed along the surface of the crumbled building. She was pained but she had made it. Her breath clouded in the open air and her sweat burned under the bitter winter winds.


    Around her lay corpses. A dozen, a dozen more and a dozen after that. An arm poked out from beneath some rubble but no body was attached. A mound of bodies, bloodied and mangled, lay cast before her. They hadn''t begun to rot yet; she hadn''t been buried for long.


    "Otets!" She called out. "Otets!" Her voice failed as she tried to call again.


    She walked forth. Down the collapsed building and past the corpse mounds. Children cried and mothers gasped for air through punctured lungs but she didn''t hear them. She didn''t hear the father calling out to his dying son. She didn''t hear the young woman pinned beneath a boulder inches from her. She didn''t see the birds starting to pick at corpses, nor did she see the blood that had started to gush from her belly.


    "Otets?" she breathlessly called out. Her head went light for a moment and she tumbled to her knees. That''s when she noticed it; a shard of metal, ten centimetres long, dug deep within her belly. She didn''t panic, she couldn''t. She was so drained of energy and will that fear and pain were simply too much exertion for her to handle.


    A droplet of blood landed on her hand and she was almost grateful for the warmth. There was no shelter as the harsh eastern winds whipped her short brown hair into her eyes. "Otets... I''m- I''m tired. Can I... Just rest here for a moment?" she mumbled as she sank to the floor. The girl curled into a ball, shifting around the metal shard. "I''m cold, Otets. I''m just going to lie here for a moment. Gath- Gather myself," she continued as her eyes grew heavy.


    <hr>


    The whistle was innocuous. It could have been the wind through the rubble or a singing bird in flight, it wasn''t. It grew louder and louder. Closer and closer until the whistle was a whistle no longer. It was flame and explosion and the chaos of battle. A bomb had settled a few hundred meters from her. The explosion was near deafening but it managed to rouse her. She realised the fighting wasn''t over... There was more to come.


    She rose to her feet with a great, and bloody, effort. She had to find her father. Where could he be?'' she considered. His office! She knew he would still be at work. The building wasn''t far, she could make it and they could flee the stacks together. She just had to move.


    <hr>


    The rubble spanned for miles. Buildings she grew up in, played in, laughed and cried in lay level across what used to be pathways and roads. The route was easier than normal. If this had been a day earlier, she would need to make her way through winding streets and darkened alleys. Now? A near-straight line had been carved through the skyline. She climbed through the holes that used to be houses and surmounted the towers turned ashy mounds. She was nearly halfway there before the bombs started again. Further away now. No major threat to her. She sheltered for a moment all the same just in case they began landing closer.


    She, Adeladia, had nearly made it. She could see her father''s building on the horizon. Her heart sank and jumped as she noticed the armed men surrounding the building. Soldiers! Were they here to evacuate the city? She walked closer, clutching her wound as the pain started to set in. The soldiers were scouring the area, searching for something; or someone. They belonged to the ministry however, surely they still had to be there to help. She clambered over a fallen column and called out for a nearby soldier.


    "Soldier! Please... Help me," she breathlessly called. The nearby young man ran to her in an instant. He called out for a medic and the two treated the young girl''s wound as best they could.


    "What is your name, girl?" The much older medic asked.


    "Adeladia, sir," she answered before wincing in pain. The medic had pulled out the metal shard, though with very little grace. "My- my father works here. Have you seen him? Is he okay?" The adrenaline of the day wore off as she was helped onto a bench. The pain and cold took her much more violently than they had before and all sense left her for a moment.


    "What is your father''s name, Adeladia?" the medic asked as he gave her a shot of morphine.


    "Vasily... Sir. His name is Vasily Tempish," she answered, half in a daze. The soldiers flinched at hearing the name. The medic looked to the younger soldier and shrugged him away. He left in a hurry.


    "Your father, Adeladia, is the reason the stacks were destroyed," The medic began. Adeladia didn''t respond.


    If she wasn''t already in shock from her injuries then she certainly was upon hearing her father supposedly destroyed the city she grew up in. Her eyes danced along the rubble; half dazed from the news, half dazed from the morphine.


    "Adeladia, look at me," The medic warmly commanded, clicking his fingers to break her shock. She tried. Her head swayed to meet the soldier''s gaze.


    "Adeladia, you need to-"


    The medic stopped. Stopped speaking, stopped looking... Stopped breathing. She was still too dazed to fully comprehend what had happened but she understood that the fresh blood covering her face and clothes was not her own. She understood that the hole where his thoughts used to go meant one thing: danger.


    <hr>


    The medic''s lifeless, and faceless, corpse slumped to the ground and Adeladia knew she had to run. She clumsily rose to her feet and stumbled away from her father''s office. Rifles blared and banged. They were louder than anything Adeladia had ever heard. "Sniper!" she heard a soldier call out before being promptly shot. She managed to find a small gap in the rubble where she could hide from the fighting but in climbing down, she snagged her fresh bandages and exposed her wound.


    "They''re flanking left!" The young soldier that originally found her called out. Adeladia peeked out from her hole to get a view of the skirmish. There were more soldiers than she had realised in her dazed state. At least thirty ministry troops had bunkered down in her father''s building. She couldn''t see who they were fighting but there must have been a small army.


    Bullets hailed by the hundred and whizzed past her head. Every now and then, a noticeably louder shot would ring out and every time a soldier would fall. The same bang that had killed the medic. Bang! Bang! Bang! Rang out from beneath the other gunfire and with each bang, a new life was lost. Few remained now. Maybe ten or eleven huddled within the office.


    "Vasily!" A voice rang out after the torrent of bullets ceased. It was a woman''s voice. "Vasily! You still alive in there?" The woman called out.


    The air was far from still in the fresh silence. Adeladia''s breath was shallow. She dared not move while she listened out for her father. Could he really still be inside? What did the Alliance want with him?


    "We have him here, come near and we will kill him!" called out a ministry soldier from within the office.


    "Well, far be it for me to doubt the honesty of a cornered dog, but I''m gonna need some proof!" The woman responded. Her voice was loud but she was nowhere to be seen. Another moment passed where the soldiers were no doubt discussing some kind of plan of escape. "Come on, trooper! Hop to! Not got all day," the woman called again in an inappropriately light tone.


    "If we hand him over, how do we know you won''t just blow us up?" The soldier answered.


    "Look... Buddy, pal. This ends in one of three ways: One, we fight - you die - and I''ve got to find another scientist; two, you take too long making up your mind, we break in and kill you all; or three, you surrender Mr. Tempish and we all go home. I give you my personal guarantee of safe passage - If you give us the scientist, and I mean... Who''s ever doubted the integrity of a hidden sniper''s word? Not that you''ve got much choice either way," the woman called out.


    "Fuck- Fuck you!" The soldier responded. A bullet rang out to answer him and he fell silent.


    "Wrong answer, next!" The woman said.


    "Okay, Fuck- Okay! I''m sending him out! Just, don''t shoot," a younger voice shouted.


    "Thank you kindly, sweetie!" The woman said.


    She saw him and her heart sank. Vasily, her father, limping on a stump that was once his leg, supported by a crutch beneath his single arm. Half a face and half seared flesh. One eye, no lips, a hole in his cheek, but most definitely him.


    She couldn''t help herself. He was alive! Before she knew it, she was running straight at him. "Otets!" She cried as her eyes welled up.


    "Ade, moye serdtse! No!" He called. He was too late. She saw it, just behind her father. A ball. Green and lumpy. The ministry troop must have thrown it when everyone was distracted. He probably threw it to the Alliance soldier walking to meet her father, but - regardless of its intended target - it landed behind her father.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    <hr>


    She did not hear the man running. She did not see him dive out. Whether it was the morphine, the shock or just tunnel vision from seeing her father didn''t matter for the result was all the same. He saved her instead of her father. He pushed her to the dirt and held her beneath him.


    The explosion wasn''t as loud this time, perhaps she was getting used to them. The man atop her took the brunt of the hit, though it seemed not to bother him all too much. All Ade took was a small fragment of metal to the thigh. Maybe the ball wasn''t very powerful. Maybe it didn''t do as much damage as she thought it would.


    "You alive?" The man asked as he dragged Ade away.


    "I- Yes... Alive. I''m alive," Ade whispered in a daze. The man wasn''t looking at her. He was looking above her. Into the office building. He was shooting?


    "That''s good, kiddo. Do me a favour: keep your head down," he said with a wink. He was scarily calm, Ade thought. He was shooting relentlessly at men no more than five meters away from him but he was cool, confident. He looked back at her while he loaded a new magazine into his rifle. "I''m going to sort these guys out. Are you going to be ok out here?" he asked.


    Ade nodded, still dazed. He put his hand in front of her eyes and clicked his fingers a couple of times. She focused in on his fingers and drew herself back from her daze.


    "Wait... Otets!" She shouted as she tried to stand.


    "No, stay here!" The soldier ordered, pushing her back down with one hand. "I''ll get your father when it''s safe."


    "But-"


    "For fucks sake, Tempish! Do you not understand that they are shooting at you? Stay here and wait until I, or any of my squad, tell you it is safe. Understood?" He interrupted. Ade wanted to argue but his tone was final and he had already moved into the office by the time she could open her mouth.


    <hr>


    The door came off its hinges with an explosion and the bottom floor filled with smoke. The ministry troops shot wildly into the open air, hoping a stray shot might find its mark. The Alliance soldier waited outside until they stopped shooting.


    "Mark em'' kid," he said into the air. Then, suddenly, six laser lines appeared all tracing back to the same spot away in the distance. "Going in." He said as he silently stepped into the smoke-filled room. The laser closest to the door flickered off. Then the next, and the next. Shouting erupted from the ministry soldiers.


    "Where the fuck is he? Report in!" One called out as two more lasers went dark. "Report in!" He repeated.


    The Alliance soldier said nothing. He didn''t make a quip, he didn''t try to scare the enemy, he didn''t draw it out. He placed his blade within the soldier and pulled it out. He didn''t even wait for him to fall to the ground or choke on his own blood; he was already moving on to the next target.


    The next four, on the second floor, didn''t go as easy. He breached the room through the front door and straight away pulled a soldier to himself as a shield. Through their panic, the ministry troops didn''t notice the grenade he had thrown to the far wall. The explosion ripped the whole wall down and exposed the soldiers to the open air. It was seconds before the sniper picked them all off and just like that, thirty men had been killed. Men who patched Ade up when she was injured. The same men who said her father was responsible for the destruction of everything she had ever known.


    Her father!


    "Otets! Where are you?" She called out.


    His voice was faint, but it was there. He was alive.


    "Ade, moye serdtse, I''m here," he said, gasping for air.


    "Papa, are you okay?" She asked as she slid to his side.


    "I''m okay, child; are you hurt?" He asked. He was not okay, it was plain to see. He would have struggled to survive his previous injuries but after the grenade went off, it was a miracle he wasn''t already dead.


    "No, papa. I''m okay. The Alliance is here papa. What do they want with you?" She asked with tears welling up in her eyes. He didn''t answer at first. He just placed a bloody palm against her cheek before wincing with pain.


    "Der''mo. Ade... The soldiers... Garrison... He is my friend... Trust him. I- I love you, my daughter. They are good people. They will protect you," he mumbled, seemingly accepting his coming fate.


    "Papa, no. Please," she pled. "Soldiers! Help him, please!" She called out. The soldier from earlier ran up behind her. He pressed down on an exposed wound on Vasily''s neck. "Iris! Get here now!" He called out over his radio.


    "Shit. Reese, grab the big one. I''ll get her," ordered a light-haired Irish woman. She helped Ade to her feet while the soldier, Reese, slung Vasily over his shoulder. "Ade, right?" The woman asked.


    "Y- yes, ma''am," she responded, struggling to stay awake. "Is he going to be okay?"


    "I''ll do everything I can, Ade. I''m Warrant Officer Iris Commons. Can you tell me how old you are?" The light-haired Irish woman asked as she inspected Ade''s wound and checked for more.


    "Sixteen, ma''am," Ade responded. Iris had started helping her walk forward but she was stumbling and tripping every other step.


    "Oh, I''m so sorry. You''re just a baby," Iris noted. Her tone seemed genuinely distraught but she didn''t look at Ade; she kept her eyes high looking for hidden soldiers.


    "I have a PHD ma''am. I''m not a child," she retorted while being all but carried by Iris. She laughed as she struggled to help Ade over a ledge.


    "Reese?" She called out.


    "Thirty seconds!" He called back from a distance. "Kid, regroup!"


    Ade''s head lifted. She tried to move forward but Iris held her back. "He doesn''t mean you. Stay here," she said.


    The two had stopped under an overhanging building.


    "Go on then, I''m curious. What does a sixteen-year-old get a PHD in?" Iris asked. She still didn''t look at Ade. Her emerald eyes darted across the horizon.


    Ade finally got a real look at her, beyond her haze. She was beautiful. Not at all what she imagined a soldier would look like. Her golden hair reached to her neck and covered the left side of her head. The right side was held back and tucked behind her ear. She wore a black jacket rimmed in gold. The jacket was gorgeous but ill-suited to a battlefield. She wasn''t even wearing a helmet. She looked closer to a model than veteran. Ade sat there in torn, bloodied and dirty clothes, somebody fresh from a disaster zone. Iris sat there with immaculate make-up, perfect fashion sense and not a trace of body armour. She wore a slim strip of light pink lipstick down the centre of her lips and shimmering golden blush that was styled to look like camouflage face paint.


    "Hello? Can you hear me, Ade?" Iris asked with a radiant smile.


    "Yes, I''m sorry. My PHD... Genetic engineering," Ade responded, frazzled in her admiration of Iris'' looks.


    "Oh, like your father then?" Iris asked. The voice of Reese rang out again from over a mound. He was counting down. Iris waved her hand dismissively and turned her attention back to Ade.


    "Yes, ma''am. He taught me everything I know," Ade said.


    "You aren''t a soldier, Ade. You don''t need to call me ma''am," Iris said with a wink. "Do you know what your father has been working on?" She asked. Ade held her tongue. She looked at Iris, appraisingly. They wanted her father; they must have wanted his work. Would he want this woman to know?


    Iris smiled at Ade. She seemed to understand what Ade was thinking. "Okay. You shouldn''t trust me yet. Your father and I are friends. We have worked together for some years now. Has he told you of our work on Apotheosis?" She asked. Ade had heard of Apotheosis. The ascension to godhood. It was the project her father had been working for years now. He had asked her help several times but never let her in on the full picture. She simply shook her head.


    "No? He must have his reasons not to tell you. Come on, Archi will be here soon," Iris said as she stood, helping Ade rise.


    They left their small perch and walked to an open clearing in the rubble. Reese, the soldier that saved Ade from the grenade, stood guard over Vasily. His rifle was pointed out to the horizon.


    He was more of what a soldier ought to look like, Ade thought. He was rugged and unkempt. His stubble had grown beyond a five o''clock shadow. His hair was short, dark and slicked back on top. He was east Asian but beyond that, Ade had no guess at his origins. He too, didn''t wear armour - A theme with this squad, it seemed. He wore a tan harness with dozens of pouches attached, each filled with ammunition and equipment for battle. All the angles and extremities of his face were covered in a pitch black camouflage paint which barely covered his numerous scars. Blood dripped from his cheek but he didn''t seem to notice. He was large, six foot one and broadly built. His black synthetic shirt peaked out from beneath a much bulkier combat jacket. His sleeves were rolled just below his elbows exposing a full sleeve of colourful tattoos on his left arm. His right was covered in a black glove with a strange device attached.


    "Otets!" Ade called out as she slipped Iris'' grasp and ran out to her father. His hand limply raised to hold her. "Otets... Can you hear me?" She asked, tears filling her face. He didn''t respond. He couldn''t. He had been stabilised from the bomb that damaged his office and took his limbs, but it seemed there was little to be done for the grenade.


    Her head fell onto his chest as she silently sobbed. His pain was hers and hers, his. It was too much. Too much noise, too much fear, too much blood. She felt her father''s pulse against her head. It was faint and slowing. He hadn''t much time. He would be dead soon and she would be all alone. No mother, no father, no home.


    "Otets, please," she mumbled. Her breath grew steady as she felt the calmness overtake her father. She winced in pain as the adrenaline wore off. The burning, searing pain overtook her and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to scream. She fell backwards away from her father and slacked her jaw; only, what came out wasn''t a scream but a torrent of bile and day-old-dinner. She began gagging and vomiting with violent vigour.


    "It''s okay, sweetie. You''re just getting rid of all the fear," a woman''s voice softly whispered as Ade felt a pair of hands stroke back the hair from her face. She couldn''t look up to see the woman but knew it wasn''t Iris. This woman was English, or near enough. It was the voice of the sniper from earlier. She continued to throw up and all thoughts ceased.


    "Load her up, kid. Archi''s here," Reese ordered.


    Ade felt the woman raise her up to her feet. She continued spitting up as the woman rubbed her back. "Come on, it''s nearly over now," she said.


    She had imagined a medical helicopter or maybe a gunship. What landed before her was closer to a box on legs. It flew almost silently, had she not been looking at it, she never would have noticed it. There was no jet or rotor. Just four struts beneath it and a strange blue and purple energy. The side wall opened and she climbed in. It was roomy. The roof was tall enough for Reese to stand straight up. They lay Vasily in a stretcher on the floor and Iris sat beside him to check on his vitals. Ade sat in a chair looking straight at him.


    What came from his lips was closer to sputtering and choking than words but she knew what he was trying to say. "Adeladia, my little rabbit. My heart. I love you."


    "I love you too, papa," she mumbled, knowing he couldn''t hear her. Fatigue and blood loss hit her harder than the bombs dropped over her. The day caught her in an instant as she sat there and warmed herself within the flying shelter. Her eyes grew heavy and her breath shallow.


    <hr>


    She opened her eyes to darkness. Fabric blocked out the sky and cotton sheets warmed her broken body. She tried to rise, to remove her sheets, but quickly changed her mind upon feeling the bite of winter outside her covers. She moved to sit up straight but collapsed down as the breath was ripped from her lungs.


    "Your ribs are broken. You''ve lost a near lethal amount of blood and you''ve a nasty cold by the sounds of things," a gentle Irish voice spoke. Iris. she was sat at a desk with her back to Ade, writing some notes and reports.


    "My father?" Ade whispered. Iris did not respond. She sat looking to her notes for a moment. "Where is he?"


    Iris turned to face Ade. She looked at her warmly but sadly. "Later, Ade. Right now you need to go back to sleep. Rest," she softly, yet firmly, told Ade. Iris watched Ade fight off sleep. Her eyes fluttered and sank as she tried to keep her head up. "You''ve been through so much, Ade; much worse is yet to come. For now, rest."

 Chapter Two: To the fields of Elysium.

    Sunlight bled through a crack in the tent''s door. With it, a breeze of ice that clawed and tore at her skin. Adeladia awoke at last. Pain and aching radiated through her entire being. Each breath was laboured and shallow as to not disturb the deep rest of her fragile bones.


    Her eyes peeled open and she tried to look out through the thin layer of crust that had settled over them. She didn''t even consider wiping it away as she knew the pain such a movement would cause. She heard the monitor lowly buzzing beside her. The breeze whistled past the pristine tent door. She heard something else. A scratching? Quick and smooth. It was a pen against paper. Somebody was in the room with her.


    "Wh-" She tried to begin. The pain overtook her quickly, though, and silence fell again. The pen stopped and footsteps began. Light and elegant. Whoever it was seemed to glide over to her.


    "Are you awake?" The voice whispered. Ade peeled her eyes back open but still couldn''t see through the crust. "Hang on, darling," The voice said as a warm towel wiped over Ade''s eyes. Her vision was quickly returned and before her stood an angel. Blond hair tied back into a tight braid. falling red strands seemed to highlight her face. Emerald green eyes and a smile like fields of sunlight. It was Iris. The soldier who had helped save her. "That''s better. How do you feel?" She asked. Her voice was warm, safe. Within it, Ade could almost forget her agony; almost.


    "It- hurts," she managed to slip through her barely parted lips.


    "I know, darling, it will. Hopefully this helps somewhat," she said as she inserted a syringe into her IV drip. It hit her immediately. A warmth of euphoria filled her veins. It blocked out the worst of the pains but did little for the general aches and pinches. "Do you remember me?" Iris asked.


    "Yes, ma''am," Ade answered. Her voice had gained strength but she still couldn''t move more than to face Iris.


    "Clearly not well enough to stop calling me ma''am," Iris teased. Ade felt a hand on her cheek but she couldn''t look low enough to see it. Iris looked to a clipboard before continuing the conversation. "Okay, I need to do some small tests. It''s just to make sure everything is working right," Iris took out a small torch and flashed it into Ade''s eyes. She asked her to follow her finger and she took her temperature. "Can you tell me your name and age?" She finished as she sat on the foot of Ade''s bed.


    "Ade- Adeladia Tempish... I''m sixteen," Ade answered.


    "I still can''t believe you''re only sixteen... Listen. They are going to ask some things of you. They are going to need your help. It is up to you if you want to or not, but don''t let them take advantage of you. I will be as near as you want and always here to help you.¡±


    She sounded close to tears. Why? What could ''they'' want of her? Why would she need a stranger to support her? Surely if she needed support, she would just ask her... Dad?


    "Otets!" Ade realised. She took a breath but could already see Iris'' face drop. "Where is he?" She begged. Iris held her down as Ade tried to climb out of bed through all the pain.


    "Ade, lie back," Iris ordered. Her tone was warm but final.


    "Where is he, Iris?" She demanded.


    The perfect visage cracked. Her confident eyes dropped to her feet. There was shame in the sunshine and she could not hide it.


    "I did everything I could, Ade," Iris started.


    Ade didn''t hear the rest. Pouring rains seemed to rage in her ears. Her city, her home, her friends, her family... her father. She had lost it all in the space of a few hours. Iris could say what she wanted. She could apologise and beg forgiveness. She could explain she was simply too late to save him. It wouldn''t matter. It wasn''t her fault. Somebody had dropped those bombs. Somebody had thrown that grenade. Somebody had destroyed her whole world and she hated them. She wanted them to know this pain. This burning. In that moment, Ade could have watched the world burn, and it would have made her smile.


    She didn''t even cry. She thought she would but she didn''t. She didn''t know how to feel. How she felt. She only knew that she was going to make them pay.


    "Ade." Her rage broke and focus returned. Iris had her hand on Ade''s knee. "Look at me, Ade.¡± She did. Wrath and hatred met warmth and empathy. "It''s okay to be hurt, Ade. It''s okay to cry."


    "Don''t waste tears on the dead," Ade recalled her father saying. He said it often. She never understood. She would cry when her mother passed but he never did. She understood now. If she cried, she would release the anger and focus. Decisions which were now clear would become clouded. She steeled her heart and tightened her grip. She would kill them all.


    "That''s fucking stupid," Iris retorted. "Reese will like you."


    "That''s not an achievement to strive for," a woman mocked as she peeled back the tent door. The blast of cold air knocked Ade from her wrath filled contemplation and she regressed deep beneath her blanket. "How is our new scientist doing?" The woman asked.


    Ade looked at her. She was the sniper who had held her hair back as she threw up. She was notably shorter than Iris, and younger too. She had pure white hair that she kept short and tied behind her in a messy tail. She didn''t wear makeup like Iris did, instead she wore black face paint. A stripe of black across her eyes and deep red across her forehead.


    The most notable part of her face, however, was her mask. It covered her entire lower face and her nose. It even covered her entire neck and all around. It came up just below her cheekbones. What used to be pure white had been stained grey by the strife of the day.


    Ade had heard of people like her. People who never show their faces. The Macks, nomads and travellers who raid and kill everywhere they go. Her beautiful blue eyes could not hide what Ade knew to be a dangerous woman.


    "You''re a Mack?" Ade said, almost unintentionally. The words, almost an accusation, had leaped from her tongue before she even saw them running.


    "Yup. Don''t go shouting it though, hey. Wouldn''t want Iris to catch on," she said with a wink.


    "What?" Ade asked. The woman''s tone was joking but how could a Mack make a joke? She had always been told that Macks were vicious and murderous.


    "Ade, meet Sgt. Lara Black," Iris introduced while digging around in a draw. She seemingly found what she was looking for with an audible "Aha!"


    "How are you feeling, sweetie?" Lara asked. She moved to sit by Ade''s bedside but stopped when she noticed Ade shift away. "Look. I''m not going to hurt you. I''m not evil, I just grew up different from you," she said as though she had been forced to have this conversation one too many times. She spoke as though she wanted to be kind but her patience had worn thin.


    "I- I''m sorry," Ade said. "I''ve just heard things."


    "Oh, I''m sure. Don''t worry, the whole virgin sacrifice and bathing in the blood of children was retired like... two, three weeks ago? So, you''re in at the right time," Lara joked again.


    "Lara," Iris interjected in a cold tone. "The girl has just lost her father. Do the jokes and introductions later," she ordered in an almost motherly tone.


    Lara''s eyes fell. Shame and empathy filled her face. Ade realised how much emotion Lara could portray with just her eyes. She had always assumed a Mack would be completely unreadable but this woman, this girl, before her felt genuinely remorseful.


    "I''m sorry, Ade. I lost my father when I was young," Lara said. She pulled her eyes high to look deep into Ade''s own. Up close, Ade noticed something strange in her eyes. They didn''t look quite right. Like something was in them. Lara seemingly noticed her looking and a great big grin consumed her beneath the mask.


    Lara blinked. Her greying blue eyes closed and glowing crimson opened. "Cool right?"


    Ade shifted back. This woman was claiming normalcy and yet her eyes glew bloody. "How?" Was all Ade could slip out.


    "It''s part of my kit," Lara explained. She blinked again and her eyes returned to blue. "Electronic contact lenses. They let me see further away and show me the wind speed. Makes shooting from a distance easier,"


    "That''s... Incredible. I''ve never heard of anything like that?" Ade responded.


    "If you think that''s cool, wait till she gets shot," Iris called out as she filled a syringe. Ade turned back to Lara with a confused face.


    "That one will have to wait," Lara said with a wink. A serious look overcame the white-haired woman''s face and she seemed to grow smaller. "Has Iris told you about what comes next?" She asked quietly.


    "Not yet, Sparks. I was going to wait till'' she was better," Iris answered on Ade''s behalf.


    "Please, tell me what I can do. I want to help! I want to fight!" Ade enthused.


    "You''re a child, Ade. You can''t fight," Lara quickly shut down. Her tone was serious but not unsympathetic. She still remembered what it was like to be too young to help.


    "So what? I have to wait for two years? Sit around and do nothing?"


    "No. Ade, your father was working on something for us. We believe he finished his project and that is why he signalled us to come and extract him. Only, the message was intercepted. We don''t know how. We believe there is some new operative that was assigned to observe him. By the time we arrived, the ministry had already invaded the stack. A battle commenced and we were sent to find him. You know the rest," Lara said. She leant in closer to Ade before taking a breath. "We need you to pick up where he left off. To finish what he started." This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Ade, what do you remember about Apotheosis?" Iris asked.


    Ade contemplated for a moment. She hadn''t answered when Iris asked her earlier but things were different now. She was alone. She needed their help to survive. What did she know? She racked her memory.


    "My father believed that will power was a physical component within the human body. Like a muscle but on a genetic scale. He believed that the ''will gene'' could alter parts of the person. Like if a person believed they were sick, the gene would make them physically sick. He was interested in the implication of thought physically changing a body. He asked for my help a couple of times over the years but only with minor issues, code sequences and strange reactions. I have no idea what his end goal was or how far into his research he got."


    "Brilliant, sweetie!" Lara responded. "Do you know if it''s possible? If he was right?"


    "No. He never showed me any proof of some kind of physical component to ''will power''."


    The three women sat there in quiet contemplation. Their faces filled with curiosity and possibility. "We have his files, or, at least some of them; only, the files are encrypted and we don''t know the password," Iris pointed out. Ade knew. Her father might have been a genius but he was still an old man. His password was always the same. ''Adeladia59''. She decided to play this close to the chest, to ensure that she remained useful to these soldiers.


    "We can try to figure it out when we get back to Elysium. For now, you should rest," Iris said, sitting at the foot of Ade''s bed.


    "I''ve rested enough. I want to see my father."


    "Sweetie, he''s gone. He can wait. You can''t even stand on your own right now," Lara warmly said. Ade hated the words but knew them to be the truth. She knew that if she were to leave her bed then, she would quickly collapse into a puddle on the floor. She didn''t respond but lay back in a huff.


    <hr>


    A restless hour passed and Ade lay in her rage. She boiled and seethed and plotted demise. She imagined the roof of the tent to be the stars she watched her father die under. She imagined running to the grenade and throwing it back to the bastard who threw it. She imagined being the soldier that had stormed the building on his own. She imagined being calm and deadly. Taking life as easily as breathing. She pictured the ministry scum bleeding at her feet. She felt powerful, feared. She wanted to hurt them. All of them. She would. She will.


    "Dr. Tempish," A man called into the tent. He did not enter but waited for her response.


    "Yes?" Ade responded.


    "Dr. Tempish, I''m Lieutenant Reese. I understand Iris has briefed you on our plan?" The man said as he entered the tent. This was the man who had saved her from the grenade earlier. The soldier who had killed an entire building of trained soldiers. He had shaved back his stubble but not very well and he had washed the paint from his face.


    "Yes, sir. They told me I was to come with you to Elysium?" Ade said. She realised she had no idea what, or where, Elysium was.


    "That''s true, yeah. But I meant for today?" Reese asked.


    "No, sir. I''ve not been told anything," Ade answered. He dipped his head and gathered his breath to tell her something he clearly didn''t want to say. "I''m sorry... We- We have to bury your father."


    Words failed her. Breath fled from her. In all her rage and anger; in all her plots to destroy and avenge, Ade hadn''t even considered a funeral. A goodbye. She would not cry. A promise to herself. Her father would be buried and she would move on. No time for pity nor grief. She had been given a mission, Apotheosis. She would focus on that. Only that, only the mission. Nothing else mattered, not even her father.


    Reese helped her out of bed. She tried to stand but quickly toppled and had to be caught. It was humiliating needing his help. She hated that he had to carry her in his arms, over to a wheelchair. Her legs would heal but it would take time, too much time.


    He wheeled her behind a curtain where she dressed herself in the clothes placed before her. An oversized black hoodie caught on her bandages and the grey sweatpants had to be rolled up just beneath her knee else they drag along behind her. She crawled back into her chair and let Reese know she was ready.


    The tent flap opened and the wind barrelled in. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. She had no idea how long she had been in that tent for but a fresh snow had fallen in the time since she entered.


    <hr>


    "Sorry, sir!" A soldier called as he ran past, nearly bumping into Ade.


    She looked around. There were soldiers everywhere. She was surprised she hadn''t heard them from within the tent. There must have been a hundred tents like the one she had come from. Did they all have wounded within?


    "Mr. Reese- or lieutenant?" Ade sputtered.


    "Just Reese is fine," he said while wheeling her forth.


    "How many survivors were there?" She asked. He didn''t answer. He kept walking onward with a grim look.


    "Few," he finally admitted. "And fewer each day that passes."


    "Why did they bomb the city?" She asked.


    "It wasn''t just them, Ade. We did too," he said with little shame. "The Alliance launched an assault to take the city, the ministry decided it was better to level one city, if it meant destroying a significant Alliance force. They wanted us dead more than they wanted you alive. Our artillery targeted their garrison and main troop locations but still... The destruction of the city was a joint effort," he explained.


    "Why would you admit that? If you are just as bad as them, why would I join you?" Ade asked. She was hurt. These people who had supposedly saved her, who her father had told her to trust, freely admitted to be just as cruel and evil as those she intended to kill.


    "Because the ministry troops are people. No more or less evil than anybody else. The sooner you stop thinking of us as the good guys and of them as the bad guys, the sooner you can help us."


    "But then why do you fight? Why kill them if you know you are no better?"


    "Because I hate them," he said. Ade felt a sliver of ice creep down her spine. She heard murder in his voice. She saw death in his gait and vengeance in his eyes.


    Silence fell between the two. This was not a day for politics or moral lectures. This was a day for silence.


    A small group had gathered. They stood over a small cardboard box near a freshly dug hole. The soldiers from earlier stood together. Lara, the white-haired Mack; Iris, the beautiful doctor and a few others. A man, no - more a titan. Well over two metres tall and built from pure muscle. Where dark hair once flowed, now a long grey mane struggled. His skin was wrinkled and sunscorched, every inch adorned with a regalia of scars. He stood in stark silence with his head bowed and his eyes shut. A grim counterpart to the other gentleman beside him.


    He was well built but not nearly as massive. His buzzed hair and clean shaved beard gave him the look of a younger man but shallow eyes wore the weight of one too used to the depths. He didn''t match the grim ambiance created by his colleagues. He laughed and smiled and joked. He teased the tall man and annoyed the white-haired woman with good humoured slights.


    She hit him firmly in the belly when Ade approached. Enough to keel him over and shut him up but not enough to stop his smile.


    "Adeladia," The titanic man bowed deeper. "Are you well?" He asked. His accent was thick, Germanic. He spoke formally but softly.


    "Yes, sir. Thank you," She answered. The fact that she was sat in a wheelchair and covered in bandages was not lost on either of them but Ade felt answering with ''I am in absolute agony, every inch of my skin burns, my father is in a cardboard box and I can''t even stand!'' may have been slightly too heavy for an introduction.


    "You are brave, frau. My name is Bernie, or Bernard Garrison. I wish we had met under happier circumstances," he said. Ade couldn''t find appropriate words, she half smiled; half nodded and hoped she didn''t look awkward.


    "Sir, any news?" Reese asked him.


    Garrison shook his head. "Not here, Reese."


    Reese dropped his head in apology and left Ade with Garrison.


    "Today, we mourn a good man. A friend, a mentor... A father," Garrison began as he faced the group of soldiers - and Ade. "I knew Vasily during the old war. He was a boy back then and yet still twice the genius as I." Garrison paused for a moment. It seemed he hadn''t planned a speech but was drawing the words as he went along.


    "If I could ask Vasily by what he would define himself today, there would be one answer. Without hesitance or thought, he would answer." He looked to Ade. "He would tell me he was a father. Not a soldier nor scientist. His greatest achievement had nothing to do with his Nobel prize or anything of his work, but his daughter. Adeladia, of you, he thought the world," Garrison finished as he threw a handful of dirt on the casket.


    "Vasily was a good friend," Iris said. Reese wrapped his arm around her as she held back tears. "He helped me, held me up at my lowest... After..."


    She failed. She couldn''t speak. Her makeup ran and the days first tears were shed. She collapsed into Reese''s arms and disappeared behind them. He didn''t react. He didn''t comfort her or console her. He just looked blankly at the coffin hole.


    Ade felt as if she was supposed to speak now, but what could she say? What words would be sufficient to summarise her father''s life? She rose from her wheelchair and timidly limped towards the inch of paper between her and her father''s mangled corpse. She refused help as her knees gave way and she crumbled to the mud. "Spi spokoyno, papochka. Uvidimsya utrom."


    <hr>


    The day passed in silence. The soldiers were preparing to leave but hadn''t told Ade where to. She felt out of place, homeless. The tent she had stayed in had been taken by two dozen injured so she roamed the camp instead. Blood saturated the dirt and stained the snow. Pained moans and terrified wails echoed from the rubbled city but otherwise there was an eerie quietness. No audible words, no orders shouted at medics and no hurried explanations of injuries. Everyone was just quiet.


    The sun began to set in the distance as Ade reached a hilltop. The brilliant orange burst across the darkening sky as a final cry before the dusk. Shadows grew long and encompassed her, not a minute passed before the chill set in.


    "My people have a story about the sunset," Lara, the white-haired soldier said as she climbed up behind Ade. "I''ll tell you about it some time."


    "No time like the present," Ade responded despite never looking away from the sky.


    "Not today, it''s a sad story. We''ve had enough of those for now,¡± she bemoaned. Ade noticed the skyfire captured in Lara''s hair. It shimmered golden and red as she sat beside her.


    A rustle sounded and from a small bag Lara produced two fluffy blankets, she held one out to Ade without a word.


    "Where are we going, Lara?" Ade asked.


    "Like... In general, or?" Lara joked. Ade didn''t respond. She was in no mood for levity. "Elysium. It''s the capital fort for Europe. It is where all of your father''s work is stored. It also happens to be our home," Lara answered sincerely.


    "And who are you?"


    "Me?"


    "All of you. Garrison, Iris, Reese, you and the other man... You slaughtered a squad of men, made a joke and slung me away to fight for the Alliance. I don''t know what''s going on, why it''s happening, certainly not why it''s happening to ME? All I know is my home, friends and family have been destroyed and it''s apparently all my father''s fault?" Ade exploded. Tears stung in the cold but were quickly wiped away by the quickening breeze. Her breath clouded the air and her heart fluttered and sprang. Thoughts of hatred raced through her, resentment and wrath; then thoughts of death, of running and hiding. A thousand words that would be cured with a single firm punch but instead she had to sit there, unable to wipe her own ass at the mercy of a group of complete - not to mention blatantly sociopathic - strangers.


    A hand rested on hers. The warmth calmed her but didn''t save her the fear.


    "Sweetie," Lara whispered.


    "We''re Raptor squad."

 Chapter Three: The Mack (Part One),

    Rifle, check. Side arm, check. Ammo, low. She would have to place a requisition when they got back home.


    The rest of the checks were meaningless; supplies, water and other shit she might need. It even included her thermal layers, as if she was ever going to take them off.


    Why is it always fucking Siberia, or Antarctica or Alaska? Just once she wanted a beach side mission. Wear a little less and get a tan while she saves lives. Hell, maybe even go to the beach without a mission. Just relax... get some drinks, have some laughs.


    Sixteen, seventeen and... Eighteen. Eighteen rounds for Hou Yi, her rifle. That was that, she was packed and ready to leave.


    She considered whether she should get her things onto the shuttle now or if she should go find Ade first. "Lara?" Garrison called out.


    "Here sir!" She responded, raising a hand. She quickly dropped it back down when she realised the biting cold awaited her outside of the small campfire''s even smaller radius. Clumsy thumps heralded Garrison as he shifted his great mass with an appropriate lack of dexterity. His goal wasn''t Lara but her fire. He lumbered with embarrassing speed as his eyes locked on the warmth.


    "Cold, sir?" Lara teased as she shifted to let him closer to the fire.


    "It''s my old skin... Much too thin for this kind of climate. Not like you young pups," He complained. The snow rushed away and the dust unsettled as he dropped to the floor.


    "More suited for retirement in the Maldives then, sir?" Lara joked. Garrison cackled at the idea. Retirement was a luxury no member of Raptor squad had ever been bestowed, though hope was there that Garrison - at his advanced age - could be the first.


    "Did you speak to our new recruit?" Garrison asked.


    "Yes, sir. She''s about as well as you can expect. We spoke around sundown but I let her get some rest," Lara said.


    He looked grimly into the fire and scratched bristled beard. "We have to be careful with her. She is not like us, she still has hope." His smile picked up and Lara could see him trying to think of a joke to cheer up the mood. She took the burden unto herself. "Keep her away from Reese then, that man''ll send her suicidal," She joked. Garrison tried to laugh, though it wasn''t nearly as gregarious as before.


    "That brother of yours truly has developed a talent for misery over the past few years. Not that I blame him, of course. A lesser man wouldn''t have made it through half of what he has been put through," He agreed. "She is a brave woman to stand by him."


    "Yes... She is," A man responded from behind the two. She didn''t need to turn to see who it was. There was only one man who made no sound as he walked.


    "Hey, Reese," she said. "We were just talking about you. All bad things of course."


    "I''m sure," Reese quipped. "Sir, a message for you." Garrison stood to tower above Reese as he grabbed a tablet from him. He shone a warm smile to him and Reese nodded.


    "Are we off?" Lara asked with a mix of dread and hope.


    "It would seem we are, Sergeant. Grab ms. Tempish. Reese drag Iris away from whatever poor sap she''s wasting our medical supplies on. Meet at Daphi in ten," he ordered.


    "Sir!" They both responded as they headed off in their own directions.


    <hr>


    Cold. It was so fucking cold. There were no thoughts going through her mind just a series of expletives and slurs with one or two prayers for the downfall of ''whoever put me in this fucking hellhole in the first place''. Ade, where was she? Not in the medic tents, not by the fire pit or food hall. Where could she be?


    "Kid?" Reese''s voice rang out from her wrist band.


    "Yup?" She responded through gritted teeth.


    "You found her yet?" He asked.


    "Nope, still looking," She shortly answered. Her tone must have been more aggressive than she had thought by Reese''s response.


    "Enjoying the cold hey, kid?" He asked through stifled laughter.


    "Born for this, sir," She lied.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    He laughed. "Nice and warm here, Daphi''s got the heaters on full."


    "Respectfully, Lieutenant, go fuck yourself" She responded with the slightest twinge of humour, but mostly annoyance. She shut her comms down and continued her search.


    A thought dawned on Lara. The grave. Of course, the child was still in mourning. The loss of a father was a feeling Lara knew well, and yet she had been so far removed that the thought hadn''t even been a whisper. She marched onward. It wasn''t far - just over the hill.


    Her boots crunched atop the quickly freezing mud, her overcoat whipped in the breeze. She had never been so grateful for her mask as it protected her nose and cheeks from the stabbing winds.


    "Left side, sergeant!" A man called out from behind her. She nearly slipped on the ice as she shifted aside but managed to hold herself straight. A convoy rumbled past her. Six-wheeled armoured cars, weaponized trucks and even a tank. She nodded to the convoy commander as he carried on towards the city.


    "More fighting, officer?" She called out to him.


    "Recon found an anti air battery. Our job to soften em'' up so special forces can wipe em'' out," He responded. Her heart sank. She had hoped they would just set off straight for Elysium but she knew that Raptor was the only special forces unit in the country.


    She stomped on. The grave came into view and so did Ade. She seemed so small, so frail. She wasn''t crying; she didn''t even look in mourning. She was just sat reading a book beneath Lara''s blanket.


    "Sweetie," Lara whispered as to not startle her. "It''s time to go."


    Ade looked up from her book but didn''t speak. She gently closed the book and stowed it away before rising to her feet.


    "You shouldn''t be standing yet, Ade," Lara protested as she moved to help stabilise her. Ade again didn''t respond. Her eyes lay a mile ahead of her and her face fell blank. She looked to Lara - through Lara - and nodded. "Are you okay?" Lara asked hesitantly yet her question fell to silence yet again. Ade walked on with her eyes to the dirt. "Wrong way, babes," Lara called out. On a heel, Ade span but still no acknowledgment of Lara. "Follow me," Lara said with an awkwardly melodic tone.


    <hr>


    The two walked towards the squad. The minutes of walking felt like hours in the cold and awkward silence. The frost had set in completely by this point and rain sat heavy on the wind. Ade trudged and waded her way through while Lara slipped and stumbled along the same path. She laughed as she slipped onto her knee, not because it was funny but because she wanted to cut some of the tension. Ade continued on, unfazed.


    She was surprisingly graceful on the ice, it was apparent that she was in her element in the Russian winter. Lara mourned for what she considered her own element, supposedly being warmth. She had grown up in the Welsh countryside but held no affinity for rain nor love of winds. She would, however, gladly take the misery and grey skies over this hellish cold.


    She could hear the ship first. The electrical whirring of the gravity prongs the ship stood on rarely inspired anything from her but annoyance, but now it meant warmth was within earshot - it meant glee. Daphi hovered an inch above the dirt. All four prongs had extended down like the legs of a dog. It may have shared the visage of a chipped old brick and stank like a dusty old factory floor; but it flew like butter and had brilliantly powerful air conditioning - an improvement Lara and Archi had spent weeks installing after the last Siberian campaign.


    "Finally!" Reese called out upon spotting the two. Lara ignored him completely. She ran straight past him, budging Garrison to the side and dove into Daphi''s warm embrace. Iris had beaten her to the punch and was sat directly in-front of the heating vent with her middle finger raised at Lara in anticipation of her attempting to steal her spot.


    "Right. Now that we are all here, we have a mission," Garrison began as he walked up to Daphi''s door. "Young Ms. Tempish, it would be expedient if you would accompany us as we go," he said as he turned to Adeladia. She bowed her head and boarded the vessel. Lara shuffled over to Garrison and Reese, though she didn''t leave Daphi''s warmth. "She hasn''t said a word. Are you sure it''s wise to bring her in this state?" She asked. Garrison glanced over at Ade. She was engrossed in her book again.


    "They are clearing out the area. If we leave her here, she will be shipped off to a refugee camp and Deus knows how long it will take to track her down. I''m Sorry, Sergeant Black, but we have little choice," Garrison explained. Lara nodded and receded back into the ship, taking up her seat directly next to Ade.


    "Archi? Let''s go!" Reese called out. A stout, M¨¡ori man, hopped down from atop the ship with a spanner in hand. He grinned widely looking at Lara shivering in the back.


    "Lazza! Kia Ora, took your time bud," he said, much too loudly for the confined cabin. He oafishly stepped over Iris in her seat, apologising with a smile.


    "Had to find the VIP. I don''t operate too quickly in the snow," she responded.


    "Don''t operate too quickly in the sun either. Took her three days to bring my tool box from one side of the barracks to the other," Archi joked as he looked at Ade. She humoured him with a smile but quickly dropped it and returned to her book. "Right, yeah. Bad timing for a yak. It''ll be alright in the end, cuz. We will take good care of you," he said with a beaming smile.


    "Ready up, Archi," Garrison ordered.


    "Sir!" He responded as he clambered into the cockpit.


    Reese sat himself next to Iris and Garrison sat next to him. Garrison shut the door and banged it twice as if to say ''let''s go.''


    A seemingly solid hologram of an anti-aircraft cannon appeared on the floor between Reese and Lara. "Our target is the forward artillery battery three clicks east. We can''t bring in civilian transports until the guns are taken out. We hit them fast, we hit them hard, and we move on," Garrison ordered.


    "Sir?" Lara voiced.


    "Black?" Garrison asked.


    "There is a tank crew in bound to the battery. Would it not be better to just let them take it out while we get Ade back to the towers?" She asked.


    "The convoy was intercepted and destroyed en route," Garrison responded in a matter-of-fact tone. "They were supposed to soften them up, but alas we will have to do this ourselves," he continued.


    "Orders, sir?" Reese asked.


    "Hot drop and roll. Iris will maintain our camo systems, i''m on turrets and you two will dive hot. Disable close defence systems so Archi can strafe the main gun."


    "Sir!" Reese, Lara and Iris all said in unison.

 Chapter Three: The Mack (Part Two)

    "Ten seconds till drop," Archi shouted. The flak was heavy and the ship was being rattled around as it flew but the state-of-the-art camo system kept the missiles from finding them. The door slid open and the cold air assaulted them worse than the cannons.


    "Five seconds!" Archi called.


    Lara turned to Ade as she grabbed her rifle. "Watch this," she said with a sly wink.


    "Go! Go! Go!" Archi called as a hail of bullets spewed from Garrison''s machine gun. Lara and Reese dove out of Daphi and faced the open air as well as the rapidly approaching ground. She raised her hand towards the ground and a small field of electricity sparkled forth. A cone formed beneath her and she stood of the flat of it.


    The impact was heavy, dust and dirt flew everywhere. She had no time to orient herself. They were coming. She moved to grab her rifle but quickly switched to a smaller sub-machine gun when she noticed the half dozen men moving in on her. She wasn''t going to take them on, she was too exposed. She grabbed a black ball from behind her back and threw it out ahead of herself. A thick layer of smoke erupted and covered her advance. She ran straight towards where the men were. She jumped onto the first while shooting the second. She rolled the first into a divot in the dirt. She would lose a struggle so a bullet would have to do. She angled her gun against the man beneath her. He struggled to stop her but a quick boot to the nose dealt with him. The bullet landed. Four more.


    "Kid, building one. Now!" Reese ordered through his comm.


    "Little busy," She responded as she strangled a man with the strap from her main rifle. Two more moved into position by her feet. She rolled backwards over the man she had been choking, placing a boot to his throat while pulling the rifle strap as hard as she could. The audible crack from his neck told her that she only had three more to worry about.


    "Speed it up! Hit and run, not hit and stay for breakfast!" Reese called out. She just scoffed. Bullets flew past her. She grabbed the fresh corpse and lay prone beneath it as she sent out a volley of bullets at the two''s ankles. They both fell straight down.


    "Please!" One begged as Lara rose to her feet. She didn''t have time for mercy. She loaded a new clip and gave them a single round each.


    "Done. I''m coming-" she said into her comm. A bullet rang out from ahead of her. The shock cut her off. She wasn''t hit; it wasn''t for her.


    "Fuck," She mumbled to herself as she realised what had happened. She didn''t want to turn around. She knew she had missed one and he had snuck up on her. She knew Reese had been watching her fight and his messages had simply been to piss her off. She knew he had shot the final man before he could shoot her. Most of all... She knew she would never hear the end of it.


    "Missed one, Dickless," Her comm cackled.


    "Yup," She responded. "Got five though."


    "Missed one though, didn''t ya?"


    "Yup." She expected him to take the piss straight away but somehow his silence was so much worse. She couldn''t see him but she could hear his stupid grin in his voice. "Just... Shut up."


    She ran into the first target building where she noticed an array of explosives. The room was empty besides a single large spinning chair.


    The chair slowly began spinning to face her. "Well, well, well," Reese mocked in an overly nasal German accent.


    "Come on, we don''t have time," She ordered. He laughed and threw her a detonator.


    They left through the front door and snuck behind a group of sentries. Once they reached a safe distance Lara triggered the explosives, disabling the main computer servers for the anti-air.


    "Report," Garrison called in.


    "Target one, down. Moving onto target two," Reese responded. He nodded to Lara and pointed atop of a warehouse. He wanted her to climb it. She nodded and ran off.


    A massive troop of mechs marched to investigate the exploded server house so Lara had to duck down beneath a truck. Once they passed, she pulled a rope from her pack and attached a magnet to it. She threw it as hard as she could but only managed to get half way up. Up she clambered till she got to the end of the rope.


    "Struggling there?" Reese asked over comms.


    "I''ll manage. You just worry about you," She panted. She took a deep breath and hopped higher, stabbing a blade into the thin metal of the warehouse walls. Using windows and ledges and a creative use of duct tape Lara summited the wall.


    "I''m out of breath just watching," Reese joked.


    "You would be, old man."


    "I''m like... Six years older than you."


    "Yeah, but it''s a HEAVY six years. I''m gorgeous, you''re creaky and wrinkled. Why Sash hasn''t traded you in for a younger model yet is beyond me," Lara laughed as she set up her sniper''s nest. She removed her backpack and placed it beneath her rifle to give it something to rest on.


    "Whatever, I just saved your life," He bickered as he grabbed a guard and slit his throat.


    "Oh, please! We are so even! I saved your life, like, last week?"


    "Don''t remember that... Just remember saving your life ''like'' three minutes ago."


    She scoped in on him as he readied to breach the second building. "Typical," She groaned.


    "Ready?" She asked.


    "Go," He answered as the door blew off its hinges.


    <hr>


    Three rounds. Subsonic, effectively silent though terribly slow. Had to lead her shots. First was sat down; no issue. Dead. Second and third were dancing; mustn''t have heard the explosion. Dead in one. Last. Too slow, took cover. Subsonic is low velocity, easy to rebound. Found the angle and... Dead.


    "Clear," she whispered. Her tone was cold, dangerous. Lara had left the battle, in her place lay Sergeant Black.


    "Second floor. No eyes. Advise?" Reese sent. He couldn''t get an angle up the stairs. She pulled out a metal pipe with a small stand. A thin film pulled from atop of it and a projector was mounted behind the film. It shone a laser onto the square film.


    "Setting up HLDAR," She informed. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment until her eyes lit up red. She could see outlines of the enemies within the building. The projector beside her was marking them directly into her lenses.


    "Four. Deep and dispersed. Would have to go loud to hit. I don''t think they know you are there," she told him. He didn''t respond. "Copy?"


    "Copy. Are they at the far wall?" He finally responded.


    "Two are. The other two are walking about," she said.


    A rustling came through his mic. She heard him stretch out and a high pitch beep.


    "Lieutenant? What''s your plan," She asked. Again, he didn''t respond. She swapped out her rounds for much louder, much more powerful, shots.


    "I''m going to blow the floor. Take the two out, then move onto the other two. You get one, I''ll get the other," he ordered, his voice hushed but confident.


    "I''ll catch heat, have to move quick," She worried. She planned out her route. She would rappel down the building and hide in a truck before anyone could figure out where her shot came from.


    "I''ll draw the heat. The explosion is high load. Gonna be loud. Hang on. Commander?" He signalled.


    "I read you, boy. What''s happening? We are taking fire up here," Garrison answered.


    "Reese, darling... Hurry the fuck up," Iris interrupted.


    "At objective two now. Once it blows, we are going to get some serious heat. We need you to strafe the gun straight away to pull attention, copy?" Reese requested.


    Garrison deferred to Archi for a response, "No worries, bud. I''ll have a squiz for a firing route now!"


    Lara assumed that meant he was going to help but she could never be sure when it came to Archi.


    "Ready?" Reese asked.


    She bolted her rifle and emptied her lungs. "Ready."


    "Bang,¡± Reese whispered. The explosion was excessive, it took out half of the building. She heard two shots ring out to finish the first two hostiles, her own round finished the third and Reese''s nuzzled cosily behind the eye socket of the fourth. "Archi!" Reese called.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "YOU SHOOT ME DOWN, BUT I WON''T FALL! I AM TITANIUM!" Archi belted over the radio as he swung in overhead. Lara counted twelve explosions, three were missiles aimed directly at the main gun.


    "Perfect run," Reese coldly replied when he noticed the path the bombs had carved out for him. The perimeter walls had been reduced to rubble and a cloud of smoke obscured the route to let him and Lara sneak out without problem.


    "Aw, ya big flirt," Archi responded.


    Lara drowned them out, she had to move and quick. She clamped her rope to the wall and slid down so quick that she forgot to wear gloves. The rope burn was the least of her concerns, however, as the ministry troops began to close on her position. Reese shot three rounds but missed two. It was enough to slow the approaching squad and give Lara enough time to get under the smoke cover. She struggled to keep her footing as she ran through the cracked concrete with near zero visibility.


    "Pickup in twenty seconds. Be careful," Iris warned them. Lara ran. She didn''t look back for Reese, nor did she shoot at the men trying to kill her. She trusted him to keep himself alive and herself to keep out of the ministry troop''s sights. Her mask filtered out most of the smoke from her lungs but it still stung her eyes. She couldn''t think about it yet. She had to get out.


    A man stood before her in the smoke, his rifle raised. She knew she wouldn''t be quick enough to draw her own. A throwing knife? No, too slow, he''d get a shot off. Duck into thicker smoke? No, he''d just blind fire and hit her. She had one option and it fucking sucked. Charge. She would take the hit and hope he missed anything vital. Her SBA would protect her from most of the damage but that wouldn''t make it hurt any less. She covered her head with her left arm and ran as fast as she could at him. He panicked, lucky. He managed to get six shots off but only one landed. It didn''t breach her SBA, lucky again. She dove on him and quickly flung him away. A single bullet, he was dead and she was free to flee.


    The door opened and she collapsed onto the floor inside Daphi. Reese followed shortly after and just as quick as they entered, they were gone.


    <hr>


    "Oow," Lara moaned.


    "You''re hit?" Iris asked checking her over. Ade sprung up to see what she could do; she started to fuss over Lara but Lara just let loose a pained laugh.


    "Don''t worry, didn''t breach my SBA. Right in the fucking tit though, oow,¡± she complained, with a small attempt at laugh. She breathlessly sat up as Ade helped her to her seat.


    "You were slow, kid. Lucky, but slow," Reese said. His tone was severe, scolding. He was angry with her but she knew he was worried first and foremost.


    "I know, I''m sorry," she admitted.


    Iris placed a hand against Lara''s forehead. It was warm, calming. "Now isn''t the time for that. Readouts are saying you just took a 7.62 round to the chest. You may have broken ribs. We need to check you out when we get back to Elysium," Iris said in her typical tender way.


    "7.62?" Lara repeated, almost in disbelief. Iris nodded. A big grin crept across Lara''s face. "That''s gotta be a record, right?" She bragged.


    "I believe so," Garrison said with a warm, yet somewhat worried, smile.


    "How are you not dead?" Asked a tiny voice from the corner of the room. Ade looked at Lara with tears welling up in her eyes. A tiny part of Lara wanted to make a joke about taking the bullet but that instinct was drowned out by the overwhelming desire to hold and protect the crying child.


    "Babes, i''m sorry. I didn''t mean to scare you," She said in a new tone she had never heard herself speak in before. She wiped away Ade''s tear and looked deep into her eyes. "I have an SBA. ''Subdermal Ballistic Armour''. It''s like a shield that turns on or off depending on my adrenaline levels. It can stop bullets and disperse kinetic energy. It is how we jumped out of Daphi earlier. We focus the shield below us and it disperses all of the energy across the ground meaning we can survive falls from small heights that would usually kill."


    "Why didn''t my father have one?" Ade asked.


    Iris answered, "He did." She paused, then, to consider her words. "It isn''t a miracle worker, darling. They are very rare, only special forces usually wear them. We gave your father one as we believed him at high risk of assassination. It is designed to stop one; maybe two bullets. Not a grenade. I''m sorry Ade but there was nothing that could have saved your father."


    The silence was tense, palpable. Nobody knew how to break it. This was not a group of people used to silent mourning. When a Raptor dies, the pack celebrates their life. This girl was not in the mood to celebrate. She was heartbroken and angry. It would be a long journey to Elysium if the silence persisted.


    "I really wanted a beach day after all this wintering," Lara complained. She couldn''t handle the silence anymore and simply said the first thing that came to mind.


    "What''s stopping you? Take a leave day," Reese said.


    "Not when i''ve got a huge purple bruise on my chest! Imagine the tan?"


    "Do bruises affect tanning?" Garrison asked.


    "Oh, errm. I don''t actually know?" Lara admitted. She looked to Iris for her opinion.


    "Exposing bruises to UV radiation breaks down bilirubin in small doses which turns the bruise yellowish brownish. Though prolonged sun exposure could thin the skin worsening the bruise. The bruise is, however, beneath the skin and so you would still have a full tan after the bruise heals... I think?" Iris lectured. Her confidence waned the longer she spoke until she shrank away into silence.


    "I was raised in the woods... I don''t know what half of those words mean. All I know is I''m not wearing a bikini top with a purple chest," Lara joked. Even Ade chuckled.


    "I''ve never been to a beach," Ade admitted.


    "I''ll take you once this bruise is gone, you''ll love it. We will get some drinks-"


    "She''s too young for drinking," Garrison interrupted.


    "She''s Russian. Sixteen when it comes to drinking is basically twenty-three," Lara said with a smile.


    "Not how that works. No alcohol till 17, Alliance rules," Garrison had the final word, as always.


    "It''s not too bad, in Hypatia you''ve gotta wait till you''re thirty-five,¡± Iris said.


    "And in the undercity, you have to wait till you are at least... Five, maybe even six years old!" Reese mocked.


    They chatted for a while, bantered back and forth. Nothing of substance just in-jokes and insults. Ade seemed to drown it out. She was entranced with the scenery. Her head flickered back and forth as if she were tracking specific trees and buildings as they disappeared underfoot.


    "Ever flown before?" Lara gently asked.


    "Once. In an old propeller plane," she admitted. Her tone was dreamy, distant.


    "With your father?"


    "No," She whispered. "My mother. She was an engineer. She built it from scraps."


    "Damn. A whole plane from scratch?" Archi exclaimed from the pilot seat. "A lady after my own heart."


    "Was she a pilot?" Lara asked.


    "No," Ade laughed a little at the question. "She was awful at flying. Nearly crashed the first time we flew."


    "So did Lara," Iris pointed out with a cheeky grin.


    Lara would have thrown something at Iris, preferably a shoe, had her lungs not been on fire from the likely broken rib. A squinted side eye had to suffice.


    "It''s a shame I never got to meet her; she sounds great."


    "I don''t remember much of her. I was young when she..." Ade trailed off and looked back to the scenery outside.


    "I introduced them, you know?" Garrison said beaming with pride. "She hated him at first. He was in love within the hour."


    Ade didn''t respond but she did smile while she looked out of the window.


    "You look like her. You have her smile,¡± He ended.


    "Ladies and gentlemen - and Reese - if you look out to your left side, you will - err - see the outer rings of Elysium, also known as - err - Styx base,¡± Archi announced, mimicking a mid-western American airline pilot.


    <hr>


    It was as beautiful as the first time she saw it. Lara only wished she could see it through Ade''s eyes. The outer rings spanned for miles around. Nestled within a crater, surrounded by mountains and horizon¡¯d by clear blue waters. The walls were tall as skyscrapers and two kilometres thick. From Daphi''s height, the people walking the walls looked like ants.


    There were thousands. The outer walls weren''t inhabited but were densely occupied by workers during the days. Hangars and garages lined the bottom of the walls while turrets and weapons nests choked the roof. Spiralling pathways led deeper.


    Tunnels to the next ring, Lethe. Not as tall, nor as thick. Coils rose above and bent inwards creating the beginnings of a dome. Golden fields surrounded the space between walls and farming equipment dotted them. Small huts sat on river streams and pure white bridges arched over. Daphi continued past. She weaved between the coils and struts effortlessly and with complete grace.


    Gliding like a leaf in the wind. The bridges spiraled and twisted inwards towards the final ring. The central tower. Tall as a mountain and just as wide. An entire civilisation could exist within its white steel walls. A nation of its own within the crater of the bomb that wiped out a continent.


    "That''s our stop," Lara said as she pointed to a small hangar in the main tower. Ade was entranced. Her eyes wide and her mouth agape. Words failed her when she tried to describe it. Lara laughed and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.


    The hangar stank of grease and oil. Hammers clanged and men shouted as they maintained a shuttle parked beside Daphi''s landing space. The shuttles legs dropped and sought the ground as they slowed. A gentle thud marked their arrival and the door slid open to usher in a blast of thick warm air.


    "Finally! Food," Lara groaned as she tried to rise from her seat.


    "Nope," Iris declared as she forced Lara back into her seat. "First, hospital. Then you can get some food."


    "I don''t need to go to the hospital, I need a burge-" Lara said until she was interrupted by a finger prodding her ribcage. The pain took her breath away and cut her lies short.


    "I thought so. Hospital, now," Iris ordered. Lara groaned like a petulant teenager but knew there was little point in arguing.


    "I am going to debrief with the Arbiter. We will meet tonight," Garrison declared before dismounting. "Oh, and show Ms. Tempish to her father''s office," he finished with a slight bow to Ade.


    "No, first she is getting checked out, then cleaned up and fed. Then she can worry about working," Iris declared.


    "By all means," Garrison acquiesced as he left view.


    Reese left first and helped Lara out. She slung her arm over his shoulder and he took her weight.


    "ow, ow, ow," She groaned.


    "You took the bullet; you can take the bruise," Reese said with very little pity for her pain.


    "Come along, darling," Iris said to Ade with an outstretched hand.


    The four walked off. Archi stayed with Daphi to check for damage.


    The walk was agonising. Every breath burned. With every step she could feel her rib scratching against her lung like chalk on slate. She hunched forwards and placed more of her weight into Reese as the sheer damage sustained began to dawn on her. She made no noise; she didn''t want to seem pained - or weak. She carried on as nonchalant as she could. She knew Reese could see through her. It seemed Ade could too. She felt her trying to help bare some weight but Lara just patted back some of Ade''s frazzled hairs and smiled at her.


    "You dying yet, Sergeant?" A random marine called out from his guard position.


    "Not yet corporal. You lose a bet?" She joked as they passed him by.


    "I had thirty Decks on one of you not making it back," he laughed. The grunts enjoyed their dead pools. It gave them a sense of control even when they lost half a squad in an hour. A bet on Raptor, however, would net a large sum. No Raptor had died in maybe three years? Before Lara had even been assigned to the squad.


    "It''ll be you before me, sweetheart!" She called back with a pained laugh. She couldn''t see his reaction but the ever-growing pain in her chest distracted her from caring.


    The elevator gave her joyful respite. She leant against the wall and pretended not to need to catch her breath. "Breathe, kid," Reese whispered.


    "I really wanted to act cool but to be perfectly honest... I think I''m about to pass out," Lara admitted. She was right, her knees buckled and she slumped down. Reese caught her and took all of her weight.


    "There must be internal bleeding. Let''s get to the infirmary quickly," Iris started as she fussed over Lara. She shifted the hair from her face and clicked her fingers in hopes of keeping her awake... It didn''t work.