After four days of flying over the Mightoria Ocean, everyone onboard the airship grew anxious to walk on solid land again. Shortly after breakfast on the journey’s last day, Murnyr Island’s dome of light appeared on the horizon. It would have only been a barren piece of rock a few hundred miles northeast of a much larger island that shared the space with Australia on the other side, had it not been for the installed animal farm sunsphere that allowed trees to grow and hundreds of beasts to come and go every minute across its influence. It had been a rebel outpost for some time, but it had never seen the level of activity that was coming.

  Garder joined his superiors following his sunrise meal on the bridge, where the current pilot on shift was manning the helm and his younger commanding officer, a seven-year-old boy with light brown curly hair, was in communication with their allies ashore. Menin had been a helicopter pilot on Earth during its own latest war, as well as a dedicated servant to royalty during his Aurrian lives. He chose to continue his service on a different side this time, commanding over the Angels’ air power.

  “You’re all clear, Red Tenor,” the island’s control tower said over the radio. “Wind is calm, skies are clear. We look forward to seeing you.”

  “As do we,” Menin replied.

  Tabi, the adult officer in the room, pushed the fiery red hair off her face and said after a yawn, “Garder. Something you needed?”

  He answered, “Just wanted to see something other than ocean.”

  “It does get dull after a while, all this travel.”

  “Did either of our freighters arrive yet?”

  “The first one is in friendly waters,” Sasoire replied.

  “And… where’s it ending up?”

  “It’s the delivery I can’t talk about. Still restricted information.”

  “How much higher do I need to be to know?”

  She looked up at him. “Is it really that important? It’s not about rank. Those synthids are for a project only a select few are privy to. Tabi and I are the two onboard who know, if that makes you feel better.”

  Sensing Garder’s early morning agitation, Tabi tried to placate him by remarking, “Our people on the field are getting a freighter full, too. It can’t be understated what that could mean for us, when the slightest tip of the scale could change the direction of the war. They owe you, Garder.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” He tried to flatten his messy hair. “I’m not angry. I just feel stir-crazy, ignorant about what’s going on out in the world. It’s nerve-racking being confined in a tight space with your superiors always on your back. I mean, that’s understandable, right? Makes it hard to relax.”

  Aurra’s plant paradigm let out a snicker. “Hey, don’t accuse me of bothering you, judging your every move. That’s more of a you and Sasoire kind of relationship. You don’t like her, do you?”

  “Feretta…” Sasoire said with a sigh.

  “That isn’t—” Garder started.

  Tabi kept going, “I get it. None of us like taking orders from someone who still has baby teeth in their mouth. If I had to answer to Commander Daschel, I’d lose my mind. Lucky him and I are equals.”

  “We’ve been over this. You know why we have… squabbles.”

  “Nah, see, it’s more than that. I can tell. It’s not about past lives. You can hold a grudge, but you still subscribe to the whole Aurra ‘new life over old memories’ standard. There’s something else. For you, Sasoire is like… she’s like the worst, pestering little sister imaginable.”

  Garder looked down, and sure enough, as always, she was looking back up with her piercing blue eyes. He let out a sigh and rubbed his neck.

  “Seriously, Feretta, I know you were trapped in Old J for a long time and missed out on some historical events, so maybe you wouldn’t get what it means to me. She fought for the Viet Cong in her last Earth life. My dad was an enlisted American over there and came home a different man. There’s a chance they even shot at each other. I wasn’t some patriotic flag-waver, but still, that war, the things it did to us… It’s not easy to let go.”

  Knowing she was going too far with her teasing, Tabi stopped. She had already known of that aspect of Garder and Sasoire’s lives, but judging by Menin’s expression, it looked like such details were new to him.

  Feeling guilty that she had basically forced Garder to reveal the fact to even more people, Tabi replied, “Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.”

  “Beginning descent…” the pilot said quietly.

  “Is that really true?” Sasoire spoke into Garder’s mind. “Or is it just an excuse for something else that bothers you? I would prefer if we could work out our differences, for the sake of efficacy.”

  “Just… don’t worry about it, Commander,” he whispered back verbally. “It’s not something that’s your fault. I’ll try to be better.”

  Sasoire had grown to have serious doubts about that.

  The Red Tenor settled onto a landing pad that was little more than a square of marked sand on the beach. It couldn’t be helped; Murnyr, while isolated and largely ignored, was a beautiful island similar to Earth’s Fiji, full of mountains and trees. The only nearby flat plain of grass on the Angel held portion of the island was dedicated to troop tents and supplies.

  “Ah…” Tabi, the first to step out of the cabin and walk down its extended stairs, took a deep breath and felt the weak sunshine. “Aurra really needs some resorts that aren’t in some metropolis. It’s nice out here.”

  “Welcome to Murnyr, Commanders,” Shiloh, now a major, greeted everyone as his men worked to secure the airship mooring.

  “How is the mobilization shaping up?” Sasoire asked him after taking off her outermost coat—a rare pleasure, given how cold most of Aurra had become. She looked at the nearby buildup, adding, “It’s bigger than I expected. Has the Guard taken notice?”

  “We don’t believe so, ma’am. They don’t seem to have eyes on this island, and we’re not even sure how involved they are with W. We should be ready to move in a couple of days. No guarantee yet about C helping.”

  “Shiloh, is that you?” Garder said after scooping up a handful of sand. “It’s been a while, man.”

  “Nolland,” he replied with a nod.

  Garder looked up and then towards the coast, still nervous about the constant wavering of the sunsphere’s protective canopy’s coverage.

  “Should I be concerned about that?”

  “The sun is in the middle of the island, covered in vines,” Shiloh explained, noticing the slightest twinge in Garder’s face when he said the word vines. “It’s old and fading, but it should last another decade or so.”

  “If you say so.” After Garder and the others started following Shiloh towards camp, he asked, “Is a force this size really necessary? Looks like a battalion maybe half the size we used to try and take a City.”

  “W’s official position is neutrality,” Shiloh answered. “We know they’re still taking transfers, and someone leaked intel about Nish, but the bloody place is otherwise an information black hole. They’ve shut down what little trade they had, denied visitor visas for years. We can’t say what may be happening there, whether or not the Guard has control of the City.”

  “How do they survive without new synthids?” Tabi questioned.

  “They’re already an underground City, Ms. Feretta. They have access to deep reserves of the stuff and refine it themselves.”

  “W is one of the ‘punishment’ tier Cities,” Menin noted. “That means it has prisons, maybe forced labor. That isn’t the kind of place you’d want to isolate for too long, without the threat of external reinforcement.”

  “You’re saying that there could’ve been a rebellion, some violent uprising and change of power. Yes, we’re also prepared for that scenario.”

  They stopped at the edge of the camp, where several of the younger fighters had already noticed the arrivals and slowed down in their duties to murmur and give them looks, especially towards Garder.

  “Nolland,” Shiloh turned to him, “C’s long-range channel will be open shortly, and they wanted a full debrief concerning Connarth.”

  “My favorite part of any day…” he grumbled.

  “The rest of you can be at ease, unless you want to volunteer in our efforts to finish establishing ourselves here. All that’s left are the menial details, so… I won’t be offended if you’d rather enjoy the beach.”

  “Perhaps I could double check your comms setup,” Xavier offered.

  “Really?” Garder bemoaned. “You and your radios, honestly.”

  “To be fair, it’s a lot of work setting up the proper channels.”

  As the Red Tenor’s shore party of about thirty split up, Tabi saw that Verim was standing by himself where the sand gave way to dune grass, directionless. She looked at the vibrant trees in the distance, then came up and nudged the Holdian prince’s shoulder.

  “Hey, if you don’t have any plans, this might be a good chance to enjoy some nature. Sure as hell would be a change of pace.”

  Verim eyed the island jungle and replied, “Huh. Feels like it’s been a while since I’ve even just seen the color green. Yeah. All right, sure.”

  Comfortable with leaving his sword behind, he stuck his large blade in the sand—it was wearing on him more and more to carry it around—and walked with Tabi towards the wall of green. A little taller than him, she looked down and worried again about his health and wellbeing.

  Verim technically had a rank in the Angels, but he always seemed like an exception to the leadership hierarchy. He was talented and followed orders, but he wasn’t interested in giving them outside of combat. He had friends to protect and help, yet to them, it had felt like he was just being dragged around from place to place, filling whatever role he needed to.

  Tabi, a fellow plant adept and admirer of nature, had gotten to know him well over the years and was one of the few people who would talk to him about things other than war and strategy. A little expedition to an island all but untouched by world events seemed like just the thing to brighten his spirits a little, and he tried to look happy about it.

  The area being a designated animal farm, land and flying beasts of all sizes could spontaneously appear in the sky or in the trees. Predators and animals unaccustomed to the environment never lasted long, but creatures like toucans, frogs, insects, and lizards were thriving to the point where they produced offspring, which like humans, were also reborn Earthen souls.

  The two didn’t say anything as they went through the outermost jungle and listened to the bird noises. After stepping over trees roots and skimming their hands over bark for several minutes, they stepped into a clearing that gave them a good look at a distant, narrow, and high waterfall coming off the side of the one of the island’s tallest mountains.

  “This is perfect…” Tabi soaked everything in. “And look at these trees—they’re all native to Aurra. I could name most of their species, too. Sure, a lot of them are almost like their Earthen cousins, but some are truly unique, growing here for a thousand years, or however old the island’s sunsphere is. I’m actually kind of glad no one lives here.

  “You know, long ago, the first portal pioneers ventured to Earth and brought back seeds. Now Earth trees are everywhere, like an invasive species. They wanted them because they were heartier, better for lumber. Poor native Aurrian trees don’t get any of the benefits of the mental shift here since they lack brains… they just rot and deteriorate faster.”

  Verim took his shoes off and sat in the tall grass, wiggling his toes in the dirt and taking deep breaths. “Could I stay here forever?”

  “I do miss seeing so much green.”

  “You grew up in City P. Tree farms as far as the eye can see.”

  “Sure, but we also had forests we left untouched. I practically grew up in the trees I climbed. No surprise, being the paradigm.” Tabi sat down in the grass, joining Verim. “I imagine this feels like home to you, too.”

  “Hm. Not quite anymore. I’m still more used to an endless world of white. I loved the untamed African jungles as a boy from my past Earth life, but that was a long time ago.” Verim laid his head down on his hands and looked up the late morning’s twilight sky, the wind rustling the grass all around him. “I’m not well, Tabi. This war, and time, has taken its toll.”

  She looked at his haggard appearance, the paleness of his skin, the bleached color of his once healthy blond hair. “What can we do?”

  “If I could go to Earth, then reconstruct in Hold, and come back, it would help a little… but I’d look like this again before long. Constant rebirth ravages the body. And Shin traveled much more than I did. I’m really worried about how she’s doing. This is the longest either of us have been outside our kingdom in… I can’t even remember.”

  “I’m sorry, Verim. You were never meant to be trapped here.”

  “I think this war’s done worse to me.”

  After a few minutes of silently enjoying the tranquility, Tabi spoke up again, “After I refused them, the Guard tossed me in the Fragmented when I was just eighteen. I became ageless and missed over forty years. I’ll never forgive them for doing that to me, and all the others.”

  “Mm. Time in Aurra… has always felt a little abstract in general.”

  “I’m reminded of the last years of my previous Earth life, being on this island. Have I told you this? I had an adult son, an officer, fighting in the Pacific theater. He wrote me often, and I kept up on everything. It was all about the islands out there, trying to take these small rocks from the Japanese, throwing so many lives at these places no one could name just to take them. And now I’m here, close to those islands on the other side.”

  “Can we not talk about war? Any war?” Verim asked, his eyes closed. After Tabi obliged and stopped talking, he pulled back a bit. “But what, um… What happens at the end of that story?”

  “Oh. I was in my sixties, died of a heart condition in 1944. Never got to see how the war ended—heard plenty of stories about how it went in Aurra, of course. What’s worse, I never got a chance to try and reunite with my son, if I chose to seek him out. Assuming he made it home, had a full life. Guard took that away from me, too. Doubt it could ever happen now, given the state of this world. But I got to see some beauty before all this.”

  Seeing that Verim could still use some cheering up as he whispered to the cricket crawling up his index finger, Tabi tapped into her powers and placed her palm on the ground to force anything in the area that could bloom to do so. Over several seconds, hundreds of bright blue flowers erupted from their stems, adding to an already verdant picturesque scene.

  Verim saw them and gave Tabi the small smile she had been seeking. “I’m good at killing,” he admitted. “But I wish I didn’t have to be. If people didn’t need me… I’d spend my days in a place like this.”

  Back at the camp, Garder was just finishing speaking with his superiors in City C—as much as it was possible for him to do so. As Aurra still relied on radio for long distance communication that could be listened to by anyone who found the right frequency, the Angels and the Guard alike relied on code words, dynamic schedules for conversations, and often operators that would “translate” for those speaking to make sure nothing compromising was passed on, like names and locations.

  Garder hated it, and it meant his friends, father, and sister that he hadn’t seen in years existed as only obscure contacts far away that he had no way of speaking to directly, or privately.

  “Again, Connarth wasn’t expecting it, and I had to take my chance or I could’ve died,” Garder said to the operator in the tent, with Major Shiloh just behind him. “There wasn’t time for questions.”

  The young man at the radio pressed on the button to speak, “Neptune repeats: prime target provided no alternative. Was in fatal danger, immobilized by target’s alchemagic elements.”

  “Copy, Dolphin Alpha. More important was a mission success.”

  “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  “I don’t believe so. Ask Neptune if he would like to pass on a message to his contacts here. As always, any sensitive information that could expose the identity of those contacts cannot be sent.”

  The operator looked at Garder and asked, “Anything?”

  He sighed. “What’s the point?”

  “Ah, no, sir. That will be it. Over and out.”

  “Garder,” Shiloh said once the operator disconnected. “You said Connarth broke your sword? Are you still using an elemental blade?”

  “Yeah. Any hope?”

  “We could get started on it, but it’ll take at least a few weeks to fully repair. Give what’s left of it to the private here, she’ll bring it to our blacksmith. In the meantime, I may have a replacement for you.”

  Garder took out the pieces and handed them to the waiting young lady at Shiloh’s side, who handled the blade remnants carefully as she walked away. He then followed Shiloh toward the camp’s armory.

  “I hadn’t realized that it’s been so long since you’ve seen Milla,” Shiloh said. “I saw her only a month ago, during a reconnaissance mission in U. She still works with my division from time to time.”

  “It’s just never really worked out, or we never had a reason to work together. Or even find time just to meet,” Garder replied, a bit forlorn.

  “I suppose that’s what happens when you operate in an entirely different front than most of the Angels. Sasoire always has you running these dangerous strike missions, doesn’t she? Still, five years…”

  They arrived at the armory, a reinforced concrete building with carbonite fencing and a gate that was currently open. Harken was there, having his gauntlet blades sharpened and watching to make sure his two battle partners were getting the professional treatment.

  “You really did a number on the edges,” the elderly blacksmith said as he worked the lathe on the claws and sparks flew. “What’d you do?”

  “Used ‘em to rip into a schutz. That’ll ‘appen, I guess.”

  “Damn, Harken. They say you’re crazy, but… just, damn.”

  “T’wasn’t nothing. Just ‘ad to get on top of the metal beast.”

  Seeing Harken again while Milla was on his mind reminded Garder of the past, and he continued with Shiloh, “Yeah, five years. After… we lost H and gathered all the groups to create the alliance. Wish I could have swapped sides along with Simon and Temki, gone to the burrow, but by then I had new superiors and orders, places to be. Maybe I could’ve gone with them, if I really tried, but I’ll never know for sure.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Harken said, overhearing him. “Me and my men from Guardfall—you know you like working with us when you do.”

  Garder crossed his arms and retorted, “Half your guys were bloodthirsty criminals that we had to kick out as part of the negotiations.”

  “But we knew how to party, eh?” he said with a hearty laugh.

  “Braunwesh, I think we have the man we want to give the sword to,” Shiloh told the blacksmith. “That would be this one, next to me.”

  “I figured. All right, I’ll get it.”

  He stopped working on Harken’s claws for a moment to go to the back of the armory and unlock a large safe covered in alchemagi sealant. He took out a brand-new sword similar to Viveri’s, but more elegant in design, like a bigger version of a katana. Its hilt was noticeably larger than usual, with a secondary handle inside the enclosed grip.

  “C only sent us one, but if you like it, I suppose it’s well off in your hands,” Braunwesh said and handed it to Garder. “It’s something Vlad and Kerchief have been working on for years, I hear. I’ll still fix your old blade, though. Maybe give it to someone else if you move on.”

  “It’s… heavy,” Garder noticed as he gave the semi-translucent sword some slow testing movements. “Doesn’t look like it should be.”

  “It’s what we call an active alchemagi sword,” Shiloh explained. “The hilt has a battery in it, that powers a motor. Use it like any other alchemagi sword in its ‘quiet’ state, or… adjust your grip and squeeze the handle, and it goes into overdrive—it pulls the alchemagi out of you, instead of relying on you to send it in. Big difference.”

  “Huh. Interesting. Does the Guard have this tech?”

  “Swords are only a year old,” Braunwesh said and got back to work on Harken’s weaponry. “Maybe twenty in existence. Guard already knows about them, probably trying to replicate them as we speak.”

  “You have to be careful, though,” Shiloh continued. “There’s no safety other than an alert when it detects your reserves running low; it won’t shut off. You got maybe a minute before you run dry, and, well, we all know what that means. Still, the things could change the war in the right, careful hands. Want to test it out? We’ll need some space.”

  Garder held the sword at his side to check its length compared to his legs. “Where’s the sheath?”

  “Should be in the safe. If you feel like keeping it.”

  “Probably will.”

  Once Garder started off with Shiloh towards the training ground, Harken, more interested in the weapon than his own, followed behind. They got more looks from other newer recruits on the way, including those in Xavier’s squad. By the time they reached the grounds, no less than a dozen people were tagging along, eager to see what the famous Garder Nolland could pull off with a sword they had only heard rumors about.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The training grounds were full of knights, archers, and rifleman practicing with their weapons, and alchemagists locked in safe duels, but everything stopped once Garder arrived. They cleared a spot and then encircled him, murmuring to each other. He didn’t seek the attention—all he wanted was to try out the blade in the right location—but he wasn’t going to call off the test just because he had a few fans.

  Shiloh took out a stopwatch and said, “When you’re ready.”

  “Oh, so this is a competition now?” Garder quipped. “Should I be trying to set a record here, Major?”

  “It’s just for science. C says they’re still in a late test phase.”

  Garder swung the sword around to get a better feel for it, before turning it into ice and following up with an air slash into some nearby dirt. He then looked at Shiloh and gave him a nod before squeezing the trigger.

  Alchemagi was torn out of his left hand and pulled through the sword. He only felt the vibration of the motor for a moment before it was overpowered by the trembling blade, which had just turned into a loud chainsaw made of a cycling torrent of air that caused visual distortion.

  “Holy crap,” Finx commented from the crowd.

  “Hey, kid!” Harken called out and chucked a rock his way.

  Garder swung at it effortlessly, but he didn’t cut it cleanly in half like he expected to. Instead, the rock was obliterated and turned to dust. He didn’t want to reveal his partial apostle powers so he stuck with his native ability, adding ice to the mix. In seconds he was holding a roaring blizzard of shearing ice particles, running across the blade edge like a tank tread.

  “That sword is a monster,” Bryant said, among other remarks.

  “How is any regular old shield or blade going to hold up against that?” Sieger added. “You’re gonna have Guardsmen running in terror.”

  With Shiloh focusing on the clock, Garder gripped the handle with both hands and went back to the air-saw, curious himself about how long he could sustain its devastation. Thirty seconds, then forty, fifty, sixty, and seventy, at which point he began to feel tired. The hilt began sending out haptic pulses and let out warning beeps, but he didn’t let go.

  “Hey, Nolland!” Harken shouted. “You wanna die?”

  “Lad, that’s enough!” Wendell added, all of the nearby recruits watching with concerned looks. “You don’t have to prove anything!”

  The beeps transitioned to their “stop now or die” chirps, which were louder and came faster. This worried everyone on the scene save for Shiloh, who simply kept observing with thumb on the stopwatch button. The others were sure they were about to see an officer turn into smoke.

  The beeping stopped, the air current slowed, and he felt drained—for just a second. Once Caeden’s reserves kicked in, he woke right back up.

  “The hell?” Harken exclaimed. “How?”

  After thirty more seconds, the beeping started again. Once they sped up once more, Garder finally let go, exhausted. He kept himself from collapsing by planting the sword in the ground and leaning on it.

  “One minute and forty-five seconds,” Shiloh announced.

  There were some confused new murmurs in the crowd, like “did you see that?” and, “what happened? I thought he was about to die.” Finx was staring at Garder with particularly wide eyes.

  “Did… Did I beat some old record?” Garder huffed.

  “In fact, you did. The previous one, by five seconds.”

  “Who the hell… managed to do that? Augh. I need to sit down.”

  “That would be Captain Nolland. Your sister.”

  “So… she already got… That figures.”

  The crowd parted to get back to work, with Harken and Finx staying a minute or so longer than the rest. Wendell came over, looking like a concerned dad, and helped Garder stand.

  “You shouldn’t push yourself like that, lad. I wouldn’t trust Caeden to always be there for you. I hope you’re not just trying to prove something, or punishing yourself, or…”

  “Wendell, relax. I just have to test my limits sometimes.”

  “Let’s get you a drink, kid. Something restorative, rich.”

  “Sir…” Garder spoke to Shiloh. “Permission to take the blade?”

  “I’ll get it polished and sharpened for you,” he affirmed.

  “Caeden’s still helping Milla…” Garder told Wendell as he helped him to the mess hall. “That’s the most I’ve learned about her in a while.”

  “I’m sure she’s doing well for herself, no need to worry.”

  Thousands of miles away, where it was still dark, she was finishing her preparations for a late-night emergency officer meeting, where an important decision had to be made. She had let her brown hair grow out, so she brushed it a few more times before wrapping a blue scarf around her neck for some protection against the bitter cold night outside. C was in the middle of an arid wasteland surrounded by mountains, and it held onto cold fronts for days. It would be snowing out if it were the wet season.

  Her apartment, too large for a single person and sparsely furnished, was a place where she slept and little else. Military work kept her away often and while tiring, it at least let her mind stay busy instead of dwelling on the many things that gave her constant, outwardly hidden anxiety. She knew her peers and superiors expected her to be emotionally solid, always ready to make the correct decisions. She was a former queen, after all. They expected perfect decision-making. They expected too much.

  Before heading out, she glanced at the small framed picture of Garder as a child in the academy—the same photograph she had shown Simon in his house seven years ago and still the only one she had of him.

  Her building had been mostly emptied, to the point where she wasn’t even sure what floors were still occupied and she barely ever saw anyone coming or going in the lobby. C was known for its dreary location and weather, but earned its rank with the lavish interiors of its residences and venues. She practically had her own penthouse, just like most of C’s citizens. But, also like many of its citizens, no one to share it with.

  The streets, aside from being very cold, were also very empty. Milla often recollected on how busy the place was the first the first time she and her friends had visited it. At some point, it would have to be functional City again, regardless if the war currently made such a goal nearly impossible.

  She went up to about the middle of C’s tallest tower, far below Pangs’ office. The forty-fifth floor was reinforced, full of officer quarters and all the archived paper work needed to wage a global campaign. With an expansive supply room, it could also be cut off from the rest of the City in case of a surprise invasion, and it felt like a smaller Eden’s Burrow.

  Though she was on time, Milla was the last to enter the war room. A black marble table sat on a thirty-foot rug of the same royal blue color as Milla’s scarf, and its seats were not completely filled. The members of the war council in attendance: C’s leader Pangs, I’s former mayor Hekens, its architect and his confidant Tess, Colonel Osk, and Commanders Masayuki and C’s only permanent child officer, ten-year-old Nadir Daschel.

  Milla took her place between two empty seats, belonging to her father Leovyn and Shin. The most notable absences were at the two ends of the table, where General Rivia and Commander Viktor had left their spots vacant—but that was common, as they were often on the newest frontline.

  “What have I missed?” Milla asked, placing her hands on the table.

  Osk answered, “Nothing, we were just starting.”

  “Garder and those on the Red Tenor made it to Murnyr,” Daschel opened the proceedings. “We should be ready to join them in a few days, barring any delays in V. Nolland, do you still plan to head out early?”

  She cleared her throat and replied, “Yes. I’ll be spending the night in the burrow, and I made final arrangements with our allies there earlier.”

  “Very good. And Ms. Rachester, I’ve just learned that our captured freighter from S has safely arrived at its designated harbor. Our men should be unloading and moving the synthids to a secure location right now.”

  “Great news,” Tess said with some visible relief. “It’s only a matter of time before we can use them to recreate I. Home.”

  “Yes, but when, exactly?” Hekens asked her.

  “When the time is right, Gregory. Its datastones will be safe in the burrow’s underground warehouse until then.”

  “But we could remake the City in mere weeks, why should we—”

  “It’s a massive undertaking to bring a City to life. We shouldn’t squander it. In the right time, and the in the right place, it could prove to be a trump card in this war. To create it now may waste an opportunity.”

  “What are you waiting for? Do you plan to drop it on someone’s head?” Hekens sighed. “Extending the burrow’s lockdown Citywide and making C the Angels’ base of operations devastated it. To say nothing of the ongoing transfer crisis. It’s now lost over half its people to the exodus, and our transports are so busy ferrying people out that our response capability has been crippled. Milla—I know you agree with me here. We must move ourselves to G. We’ve held it for years now—it’s safe, secure.”

  “I, ah…” Milla sighed. “I emphasize with releasing the lockdown and using City I to help alleviate Aurra’s housing crisis, but…”

  “Exactly! We’re losing the support of people in Cities overcrowded by refugees from here and the original I. But if we acted, if he helped…”

  Milla stopped him. “But Tess also makes a point, and I’m afraid I have to agree, it’s a more persuasive one. If we knew for sure how we could use City I’s recreation to our benefit, would that change your mind?”

  “Of course. Or, at least probably.”

  “Then give us time to come up with something. In the meantime, we can start moving the datastones out of here and keep them with the synthids so, whatever we decide, we can act right away.”

  “I suppose that would be a rational move.”

  Everyone was in agreement, so Pangs continued, “That was our most pressing issue of the night. Let’s, ah… update ourselves on how we’re doing out there. Masayuki, has the situation in D changed at all?”

  “When I left yesterday, Rivia and Viktor were about to make a push on the district that holds the City’s sunsphere,” the well-dressed lightning paradigm replied. “If that goes well, we should retake the City—”

  “Again,” Daschel interjected.

  “Yes. Again. We should be in control of it within a week.”

  “Or whatever’s left of it. For the third time.” The boy slumped in his chair some and rubbed his eyes. “When do we admit to ourselves that D may be an eternal battlefield that no side will ever fully control?”

  “It’s vital if we’re ever going to fully claim Onasia. We’re still holding G, and F remains in full support. Half of J is behind us. That’s about a fourth of Aurra’s total population on our side. Taking the continent completely would mark a turning point. Even if this war goes on and on, we could establish a new state with full autonomy.”

  “The Kingdom of Onasia,” Colonel Osk proclaimed. “No Guard rule allowed. That alone would change Aurra forever.”

  “And the resentment between us and the Guard in Mightoria and Tillethy will remain,” Daschel noted. “Inevitably, we’ll have an even more destructive conflict. We have to make this Aurra’s only war.”

  “Masayuki, did you happen to hear anything about Pip and his cousins during your visit?” Milla wondered.

  “I saw them in person. We even had lunch together when they got a chance to be off duty. The City is… pure devastation, I’m sad to say, but the three seemed to be holding up well in their district.”

  “Thank you. That gives me some relief.”

  “If there’s nothing else, I believe we can turn in for the evening,” Pangs said. “I do enjoy these late meetings, but I know not all of you feel the same way. Oh, and Milla, please update Shin. She’s in the clinic.”

  “I understand. Have a good night, everyone.”

  “I’ll see you later in the burrow, Ms. Nolland,” Osk said after standing and adjusting his hat, which he rarely ever removed.

  After everyone parted, Milla and Pangs headed back toward the elevator to take it up a few floors to the medical center, where Shin was receiving treatment. Pangs wasn’t her doctor, but he did run the facility and had a team working on ways to improve her regiment.

  “She always likes seeing you,” Pangs said, waiting for the elevator to arrive. “But, I have to tell you that her condition isn’t going to improve. There’s too much cellular degradation. Her telomeres are exhausted. If she can’t return to Hold soon, she may only have a week or so.”

  “God damn it…” Milla muttered. “Even after we lost her on the field, we at least had her mind at the table. Now, not even that.”

  “I know. I miss the fearless verbal smackdowns she could deliver to Hekens and Daschel. We need that kind of counterbalance.”

  The lift’s doors opened and they went up, Milla adding along the way, “Is there any chance Earth will re-open soon?”

  “The negative flow of energy is slowing, but we still don’t know if it will return to normal in time for her. We just can’t get our local portal to the Sahara working until then. The dimensional fabric is like a raging river. I would give anything to spend even a minute under the Earth’s sun.”

  Once inside the clinic, which at this hour was kept operating by just two people, they went into Shin’s room. Resting in a large chair, she was looking at the detailed Aurrian landscape depicted in a fine oil painting as the two needles in her arms provided her weekly dialysis treatment. She now had white hair and the appearance of a woman in her seventies that was very ill, though she did everything she could to stay active.

  “Ms. Xin,” Pangs greeted her and checked the machine. “Are you feeling any better today? I’ll make sure your medicine is ready.”

  “I hate these platitudes that come with palliative care,” she complained. “I wish I could get this over with instead of being an invalid.”

  “Don’t give up hope. Earth could be open again any day.”

  “No solid proof of that, Kyrel…”

  He wished her well and left the room, at which point Milla took the seat across from her. Shin tried to keep herself awake to listen.

  Milla summarized, “We may recapture D soon, and the synthids for City I arrived. We decided to go ahead and move the datastones.”

  “I never even got a vote in any of the matters concerning S.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Pangs and Hekens’ lavish pet project… Did you even bring up how the rest of our men felt about losing half of what they all expected to be getting? So many of our battlefields could have used those synthids.”

  “I’m afraid that aspect of everything wasn’t discussed.”

  “Are we still planning to go up and get Old J’s sunsphere to use as the New I’s protection? Or does Hekens think we can synthesize that, too?”

  “That didn’t come up, either.”

  “Of course not. I’s entire island has been abandoned since we left it a month after the war started, and now it’s suffering through what must be a terrible winter. We’ll have to wait until at least spring to make the attempt, but the move would attract the Guard’s attention, and…”

  “Shin, please don’t worry too much in this condition. Tess, Osk, and I are the realists and thinkers in the room. You can depend on us.”

  “Fine. But I think it’s still all a waste. We may have had a chance to end this war sooner, if we properly supported our people on the frontline. You know where I’m coming from, I hope. I served two feudal lords across two Earth lives in Japan who enriched themselves with luxuries while their people suffered and starved, and…” Shin’s eyes turned to Milla. “Oh. Right. Of course, you know what it’s like. I’m sorry, I forgot…”

  “It’s the way of both worlds. I didn’t like it either, but now that City I can be remade, any future strikes on S… It all goes to the fighters.”

  “Never leave them out in the cold, Milla. That’s the foundation of a successful army. You have to always give them a reason to fight for you.”

  Milla squeezed her old friend’s arm and gave her some words of support before heading out. At the front desk of the clinic, she saw that Simon was finishing a brief conversation with Pangs. He handed him a folder of papers, probably a report from the science wing.

  Happy to see him, Milla walked up and said, “Simon. It’s been a little while. What are you doing up?”

  “Ah, you know… C never seems to sleep anymore. I pulled an all-nighter and finished this really… uh, interesting thesis on the environment of Aurra and knew Pangs would want a copy. I’m sure it’d bore most people.”

  Simon lingered after Pangs wished them a goodnight and headed out, so Milla asked him, “Do you want to go up on the roof for a bit?”

  “What? It’s going to be freezing up there.”

  “I know, but I’ve been trapped inside all day, and I thought we could catch up on things, or you could at least tell me about your work.”

  “Oh. So, to chat?” Simon looked at his jacket sleeves and judged them to be enough for a quick visit to the top. “Yeah, sure. I can spare a few minutes before… sleeping for twelve or so hours.”

  It was a clear night, and a few stars that weren’t masked by the haze or the City’s light could be seen in the dark sky above. Like the rest of the structure, C’s tallest tower’s observation deck and the spire it surrounded were also styled similarly to Earth’s Empire State Building.

  Simon rubbed his gloved hands together and stuck them in his pockets as he joined Milla at the side, her scarf up to her nose. C’s many apartment buildings were darker than ever, with only a few lit windows per tower. The City always felt even emptier when seen from above, and the arena that held events and alchemagi duels in the distance hadn’t turned its lights on or hosted anything for nearly three years.

  “C is just a shell of what it used to be,” Milla lamented. “I can’t help but feel like it’s all partially my fault it’s like this now.”

  “Transfers never got fixed. There’s no guarantee that they would have been restored even if there wasn’t a war. It must have lost so many couples looking to start families. You can feel that missing part of society.”

  “Strange thing is, looking back, we both arrived here at the same time. When I was Queen, this was the City G. I never visited.”

  “The next re-rank is still about ninety years away. What do you think, if that happened today… Where would this City place?”

  “Hard to even say, with all of its unique problems. X, possibly. We just wouldn’t have the prisons and the poverty set up yet.”

  “I heard that Garder managed to secure those freighters…”

  “Surprised? Hitting S always seemed like a pipe dream.”

  “Surprised that my program still works! I mean, Aurra’s computers and security are rudimentary, but still, I wrote that thing back when we were sure we could pull it off over five years ago. Update your operating systems, ruling power of Aurra! Heh, not that Earth governments are much better.”

  After a laugh, Milla asked, “So, tell me about your thesis.”

  “It’s really very boring.”

  “That’s okay. I just want to hear another voice. Being at that table listening to political bickering and military tactics doesn’t compare.”

  “You’re lonely, huh…” Simon looked at her mostly hidden face, to see her eyes looking back at him. “All right. So, I don’t have a science degree, but I always found Aurra fascinating and I’ve worked my way up in the research division here. Digging into how Aurra works is like trying to explain magic through science. It’s kind of maddening, really.”

  “But there are some things that can be explained, right?”

  “Sure, yeah. The physical shift and the principal laws equate to different mathematics and formulas, and most of the differences between the worlds can be conclusively demonstrated and proven with those things and the knowledge that two major dimensions exist and are separated by… Ah, anyway, I’ve been focused more on the haze myself, with a team of a dozen others. I mean, we can all agree that we want it gone. Or at least be able to properly explain just what it is, where it came from.”

  “Did what the Original say change the direction of the research?”

  “I got on after that revelation, but yeah, I heard that the encounter and what happened with the sun afterward changed everything. We still haven’t made too much progress, but I did just theorize about something else in Aurra’s air that dwells in the field of suppression.”

  “Hm? That could help us. Our breakers are having a harder time getting through those local transmitters the Guard set up.”

  “I hope so. Wish we had some idea about what’s going on under A, why they haven’t fixed the suppression chamber yet and restored global providence. In the meantime, we may be able to find a way to jam the signal completely, or just parts of it, if this research goes anywhere.

  “I think the haze is acting as a sort of carrier wave for a low signal, propagating it. We’ve thought of suppression as a radio wave, maybe an infrasound that tells the mind it can’t do certain things. But I think it’s tapping into a global unconscious mental connection—something always there, like the fabric, trans-dimensional particles, the sort of thing that the Original saw as making Aurra ‘alive.’ But we can’t properly see this element of the universe as the haze is piggy-backing on it, overriding it. Something in Aurra’s atmosphere is suppressed by the haze, and…” He stopped and turned to Milla to see if she was still paying attention. “Did I lose you?”

  “I actually understood most of that.”

  “Oh. Good. Anyway, I want us to start working on equipment that can generate noise on the same frequency as suppression, scrambling it, making everyone a breaker. I know the danger if something like that got out in public after the war, but, you know, maybe Aurra should find a way to move past suppression, trust that people won’t murder each other.”

  “That idealism has come and gone over the centuries. Suppression has more to do with our better understanding of life and death, a frequent desire to bypass the life Aurra gives you to instead return to Earth.”

  “I get that. But still, to imprison a part of free will…”

  “Some form of it has been around since before I can remember. It used to be worse, more oppressive. Back when we were using Old J as a springboard for the rebellion, being surrounded by that ancient architecture brought back recollective memory that I thought was gone forever.”

  “Do you mean… from way back, from your first life?”

  “From Roman slave to Queen, to an Angel officer… Rome ruled over Aurra once, extending their reach into the ‘afterlife.’ I don’t think anyone remembers how anymore, but they used suppression even back then, and if you weren’t royalty, you were a prisoner. They were cruel and oppressive. The Guard can’t possibly be as bad as they were, but they’re still the end result of their legacy. It’s hard to imagine an Aurra without them.”

  Simon looked back out at the City. “In ancient times, Aurra must’ve been infinitely more mysterious, or magic, or… holy, one step closer to the gods or God, all of those things. And now, just as on Earth, mysticism is being washed over by science. But, I think the beautiful thing is, you Aurrians are all descendants of people that found each other in a place past death. No matter how restrictive previous kingdoms might have been, or whether or not you could always call it love…”

  He turned to her again to see that she had lowered her scarf, and her eyes were filled with need. Before he could react, she moved in and kissed him. He processed this for a moment, and while it really came as a surprise, he ended up leaning in. It lasted about a second more before she suddenly pulled back with a look of embarrassment, her cheeks red.

  She apologized, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

  “It… It’s okay. I just… didn’t expect that.”

  “God, Simon, it’s… Aurrians need relationships, and contact, and… I’m not handling all of this stress and loneliness well, and I… I’m sorry.”

  “It’s really okay. I understand. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  “I already feel terrible.” She put her scarf up. “I want to be with someone, but I can’t. And it wouldn’t be fair to Pip. I ended something that lasted over two years, because he was always being deployed, and I couldn’t stand worrying. It’s like I have no faith in people, and as much as I try to keep up appearances, I’m scared of… total loss, destruction.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. We all deserve love, Milla.”

  She hesitated out of worry of ruining their friendship, but she was grateful when he let her lean on his arm. The slight improvement in warmth was just a bonus; what she really wanted was even minimal human contact.

  After five minutes on the roof, the cold had gotten to them and they parted ways. Though it was nothing to be ashamed about, especially in Aurra, Milla was gracious that Simon wasn’t the type to share secrets. And though it wasn’t true, she did personally feel like having any sort of public relationship might have been unbecoming of an officer.

  Still… regardless of what may or may not happen in the future between her and Simon, the few minutes of what little intimacy the cold would allow had lifted her spirits substantially, and she headed to the special elevator in the center of the building with some bounce in her step.

  After Eden’s Burrow’s protective measures extended throughout the City, the remaining local one-way elevators were shut down and a direct access lift was installed—albeit one with its own tight security. It would go to every floor in the building just like the others, but by pressing the top and bottom numbers at the same time, the elevator would wait for a special daily and hourly code that once put in, would let the passengers access the secretive heart of the forces fighting for a new future.

  To help hide the elevator’s true function, it gave no indication like sounds or flashing lights to show that a code was being put in, whether wrongly or correctly. And if she got it wrong three times, the lift would be locked out from entering the burrow for an hour. Milla wanted to sleep too much to suffer through that, but she got it wrong twice.

  “Damn it…” she muttered and closed her eyes to concentrate.

  It’s Tuesday, past two in the morning, so… this month we’re dividing multiples of eight by two, and… God, I hate this.

  She held her breath and punched in 7-42-10-5. Then let the air out in a sigh of relief when she started dropping downward.

  Farther, farther down, into the depths of C, below the old ruins of its Administration compound, into the old rock of Aurra. After a sudden stop, the doors opened to reveal the crude tunnel that had been dug some years back, which eventually led her to the double blast doors that marked the burrow’s official entrance. After a quick security scan done remotely by the night watchman, she finally made it inside.

  Without access to Earth for seven years, Eden’s Burrow hadn’t changed much. Though it had some computers go down due to a lack of parts to repair them, the machines still greatly antiquated every system native to Aurra, and with some help from Simon, Pangs’ team had managed to learn modern programming language to create better management and predictive software, along with discovering new manufacturing techniques. This being the middle of the night, however, there was none of the tinkering and banter of dozens of engineers filling the halls.

  “Hey, Tanesh…” Milla tiredly greeted Lechi’s dog, allowed to roam around the burrow freely at night like he owned it.

  After he gave her a happy lick and ran off down a hallway, Milla stopped in the open doorway of the Mezik’s hangar, where the ship was worked on or arrived after one of its rare missions. Michael Reynolds and Colt were up late again, working on her major hardware.

  “Hey, guys. Burning some more midnight oil?” Milla called out.

  Colt, on top of an engine, cut the fuel to his torch, raised his visor, and waved back. “Milla. Ah, yeah, you know. If they’re not letting us take her out, then we’re at least going to keep working on her upgrades.”

  “We’ll see them in action one day, promise.”

  “Yeah. Hope so. Still say Osk and the boss are a little paranoid about the Guard developing counter-measures. Simple solution to that, too. Who would be around to file reports if we don’t leave any survivors?”

  “We don’t even have a functioning bombing bay right now,” Chief Engineer Reynolds said back, hauling a giant wrench.

  “Crap, that’s right. We need to get that fixed ASAP.”

  “Don’t stay up too late,” Milla told them. “Oh, and make sure that the little Mezik is fueled and ready to go in the morning.”

  “Will do,” Colt assured her and got back to work.

  After she arrived in the residence hall and passed by the door to the youth squad’s room where Lechi, Rayna, and the others were asleep, Osk heard her coming and poked his head out of Leovyn’s open office.

  “Nolland, could you come in for a minute before going to bed?”

  Thinking she’d never get any sleep tonight, she obliged and slipped in, Osk closing the door behind her. Her father was at his desk and seemed to be reading something off his computer screen. Judging by his facial tics, the information he was taking in either worried or fascinated him.

  Irked by the uncomfortable silence after a few moments, Milla spoke up, “Dad, you should really show up to the meetings sometimes.”

  “Nah,” he said, his eyes still on the screen. “Only if it’s for something really important. I couldn’t take listening to Daschel anymore, and besides, everyone already knows what side I’ll take.”

  “What side is that?”

  “I’ll just agree with whatever you say. I’ve, uh… I’ve got enough hard work to do and people to yell at down here. I don’t need to add some ‘war council’ with a kid on it to my list of social events.”

  “I have to get up early for the mission tomorrow, so…”

  “I didn’t raise you to be impatient, Milla.”

  “You, you know… didn’t raise me at all.”

  “Point still stands, doesn’t it?”

  “Leovyn, are you actually still reading that?” Osk wondered. “Or are you just trying to decide whether or not to tell her?”

  Mr. Nolland sighed, leaned back in his chair, and tiredly covered his face with his hands before groaning, “Augh… why does it just keep getting more complicated? Milla, listen, we need you to keep this away from Pangs and the others. They find out and they’ll either panic, or try to investigate further and just get in the way of us professionals.”

  “You know I can keep a secret,” she promised.

  “There’s something under the burrow. Way down there.”

  “What could be further down then… Is it inglix?”

  “Possibly,” Osk answered. “We’re picking up seismic readings. Faint, but likely unnatural; too rhythmic. It’s like running machinery.”

  “But how… Wouldn’t something that far down have to be thousands of years old? How could anything still have moving parts?”

  “Either something is digging and moving around under Aurra, or whatever’s down there is being maintained by someone.”

  Thinking about another demon that was possibly burrowing under them, Milla shuddered a little before asking, “What do we do now?”

  “There’s still a lot of rock to get through,” Leovyn replied. “We need to launch a careful, methodical, secret excavation. Maybe once we get close enough, Osk can use his earth powers to get a better look.”

  “We might just end up digging into some unknown Administration facility,” Osk added. “But it’s also possible that it really is some inglixan remnant, technology we don’t understand. We wanted to let you in on this, but keep your mind on tomorrow and the war in general. What’s happening on the surface is far more pressing. The council doesn’t need distractions.”

  “Understood,” Milla affirmed. “Thank you. If there’s nothing else… I could really use some sleep.”

  “Another week-long day in the fight,” Leovyn stated. “Good luck tomorrow. And if you see your brother after that… Tell him it may be time to come home soon.”

  “We’re working on consolidating our forces,” Osk explained. “It’s about time we operate as one power, fight with everything we have.”

  Looking forward to that chance, Milla wished the two a good night and at last was able to end a long day in her private room’s warm bed.

  Her mind could have been racing with a million different things new and old, like it usually did just before she slept. The events of the last seven years, Garder and the others on the opposite side of Aurra, the Cities the Angels had taken and lost, the enigmatic inglix and a possible discovery.

  But tonight, she thought only of an Earthen named Simon.