Xidona had arrived on one of W’s flying heavy loaders, one of the few in the City’s air fleet. Its turbines blasted away old soot and dirt on the street below as she supervised her men alongside Colt, who were hooking up the crippled Mezik L with tow cables. Several blocks away, an orange glow lit up the small segment of the cave as a fire overtook Nish’s lab. The scientist’s petrified body had just been flown away on an escorted chariot.

  “Thank you for taking care of a crisis almost as soon as I found out about it,” Xidona said, turning to the group and the twelve children behind them, who were busy studying the derelict buildings.

  “I think we arrived just in time,” Rhys said. “My siblings here were about to go to war.”

  “I would worry about the repercussions if the Administration found out they came from here.”

  “Assuming they survived the attack and could retaliate,” Milla replied. “We’re made to believe they’re all-powerful, but… we don’t have proof that they even have impenetrable defenses, do we?”

  “These kids are going to need some proper care, far from the reach of the Guard,” Wendell said. “But W has its hiding places, doesn’t it?”

  “We do,” Xidona assured him. “I think, in time, we’ll even be able to integrate them, help them blend in. When they’re a little older.”

  “What is that up there, anyway?” Sherwa asked.

  The others saw that she was looking up at the distant skylight, and Xidona replied, “That’s our window. It lets us see the sky, and stars.”

  “Oh. So… it’s real. We only know about the bigger world from our books. Father made us read books… to make us ready to fight.”

  “You don’t have any intention on fighting us, right?”

  “We only fight when we are ordered to.”

  “Lucky for us,” Colt said with a sigh as he walked up to the group. “Hey, guys. I’ll need to stay and supervise repairs. Michael will have to keep working on our project without me for a while.”

  “Xidona, I hope this has all garnered some trust,” Milla asked her.

  Shaking her hand, Xidona replied, “I can’t promise a full alliance, but perhaps in the future, we may be able to return the favor in some way.”

  “We’d like to stay longer, but we’re on a tight schedule. And… it’s been a very long day for me.”

  “I understand. I’ll have one of my security birds bring you straight to the City entrance, and we’ll clean up here and file the official reports. I figure the Guard will come poking around within a few hours.”

  “We’ll be long gone before that. Thank you.”

  Xidona gave them a farewell nod, and gestured to some of her security detail waiting by a shuttle. As Rhys said his goodbyes to a batch of younger versions of himself, Milla turned around so the locals couldn’t see her take out the demirriage scroll that they had taken from the lab.

  “Garder, the Tenor has a scroll we can borrow, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he answered. “We should be fine.”

  “Then here, Colt.” She handed him the scroll. “Just in case you need to get out of here in a hurry or the repairs don’t work out.”

  He took it and replied, “Careful with those hard drives. Aurrian hardware is fragile. Make sure they get to the burrow in one piece.”

  “Earth tech should be able to break the encryption,” Simon added. “I bet Nish had a trove of data we can use.”

  “Just… don’t let Pangs know,” Rhys cautioned.

  “Are we really not trusting him now?” Garder wondered. “What’s changed in the past few years?”

  “The burrow hasn’t told him everything for a while,” Milla explained after they left Colt behind and stepped into the shuttle. “Now I’m especially concerned, if Nish knows who he is.”

  They said nothing else of great importance during the flight over the City. By the time they had reached the entrance, regrouped with Xavier and his team, gone back through the blast doors, and boarded the waiting sling ship outside, there was only an hour remaining until City C would be briefly open to them. Milla checked her pocket watch often.

  “The fleet has been moving northwest since we flew out,” the pilot said, and upon noticing that the passenger count had gone up, he left his seat and greeted Milla. “Captain Nolland. It’s an honor, ma’am.”

  “Oh. Um, yes—hello,” she replied tiredly.

  “All right,” he secured the door latch and returned to his seat, where he powered up the engines, “let’s get going.”

  “Wait—did you say the Red Tenor and her escorts are going northwest?” Simon questioned.

  “Yes. They’re on the way to D to help with the last push.”

  “We nearly got shot down outside Y. We need to warn them.”

  “Yeah, they may need to divert course,” Garder added. “Can you radio in and warn them?”

  “Should be able to get through once we’re in the air and above the mountains. Hold on. We’ll take the express route.”

  “That just means he’ll go really fast,” Xavier explained.

  “Yo, Verim, you okay?” Finx asked him. “You look down. Something happen to you back there?”

  Finally breaking his silence and the reserved nature he had taken on since the start of the war, Verim angrily slammed his fist against the side of the fuselage and exclaimed, “She lied to us. All this time, I thought she was… I don’t know, pure somehow. But she was just a… a killer.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Sieger asked him.

  “Escellé. Queen of Hold. Woman I saw as a mother. God… damn it. She has a collection of kids doing work for her, like Nish. No better,” he continued, partially reverting to his older, less formal way of speaking.

  “Even if Nish wasn’t lying about that…” Garder spoke up. “All she killed were Guardsmen, Verim. Do you really care that much?”

  “But with what pretense? Did they attack her endlessly, or did they beg for their lives? They’re still people with families. In war or not, we’re supposed to keep a sense of humanity. Haven’t seen her in seven years… Wonder what kind of orders she’d give me now.”

  Milla tried to calm him, “Verim, I’m sure she—”

  “And how are we any better?” he shouted. “I’m given orders, I kill for the Angels, I break my soul to fight a war that we all thought had to happen because we saw no other way. Can’t. Can’t do it anymore…”

  He sunk his face into his arms and knees and fell silent.

  After several seconds, Garder asked, “I mean… that’s all one thing to be upset about, but what about what Nish did to you?”

  His voice muffled, Verim replied, “Don’t even really care about that. Not my fault, made my own choices. Wasn’t told to hurt people. Just chose not to. Got to choose. Can’t help how I was born. Different.”

  “Ah, hell…” Garder sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Nish really screwed everything up for us. I hate it when you suddenly can’t trust your allies. Verim, just… take it easy for a bit.”

  “I want to see Shin.”

  “We will,” Milla replied, as the ocean appeared below. “Maybe she can tell us something about Escellé that will better explain all this.”

  “Guys…” Simon said after losing himself in some thoughts. “Do you think, maybe, Pangs and Nish are both…”

  “I was starting to have my suspicions,” Milla said.

  “Huh?” Rhys wondered. “What are we talking about?”

  The sling ship docked onto the side of the Red Tenor’s undercarriage, its mate hanging off of the other side. As the only three who had never been aboard, Milla, Simon, and Rhys took a moment to study her structure as they walked up towards the main cabin. It was certainly an older ship that could have been held together by duct tape in areas, a far cry from the Mezik. But it had been much more of a workhorse throughout the war, no doubt earning its toughened crew and worn cannons.

  “Nolland,” Sasoire greeted him once they had entered the main cabin. “Glad to have you back. And Captain Nolland. Welcome aboard,” she added, noticing that she was feeling the cracks on the outer hull.

  “Sasoire,” she replied, and unsure if she was obligated to salute or not, went for a simple handshake with the child commander. “I’ve heard so much about you. Your… tactics are a bit different than Dacshel’s.”

  “Hm. That boy is more bureaucrat than war officer.”

  “Well, you do have the field experience. I wish I had more, just to relate to those I give orders to better.”

  “Come in, it’s chilly out. How long do you have?”

  As everyone piled into the narrow metal corridor, Simon answered, “A half-hour. We can’t miss our window. Pressing matters and all that.”

  “Right. Your pilot said you needed to borrow a scroll? I’ll make it happen. But I’m not entirely sure I can relinquish any of my troops.”

  The last to enter, Wendell replied as he sealed the bulkhead door, “I could still go to D with the fleet, but I feel that circumstances deem it… necessary to let Verim and Garder go to C for a bit, Commander.”

  “D will get retaken without us,” Garder added.

  “Oh, it will now?” Sasoire grumbled. “We’ll discuss this over a hot meal. It looks like you all could use it. If I do deem the situation calls for Nolland and Grenwich to take a leave, even at this critical moment…”

  “Tell me we’re at least steering away from Y.”

  “We are. But the new route will cost us two hours.”

  “Better than being shot down by missiles.”

  “Missiles? Your pilot mentioned anti-air, but… SAM seekers like that aren’t standard tech, at least not in Aurra.”

  “We know,” Simon said, the group now entering the small mess hall where a few late-night on-duty engineers were eating. “Our bird would have no trouble with flak cannons, but we were almost blown to pieces. The Guard’s suddenly protecting something out there, fiercely.”

  Sasoire sighed. “One more thing to investigate…”

  “Let the burrow handle it,” Milla told her. “Intelligence and espionage are where we excel. You’ll have your hands full already.”

  Stew and biscuits were the only warm food around at the late hour, and after everyone filled up a bowl, they sat together under a lightly swaying lamp. After the first spoonfuls of chow were downed, Sasoire spoke again.

  “Now, tell me why Garder should go to C.”

  “For one, you know how I feel about the frontlines,” he answered. “They aren’t where I belong. I’m one of the best soldiers you have, and you want me to risk catching some random arrow in my skull? Spec ops is where I’m at my best. Small squads, in and out, no problem.”

  “You’re going to have to fight on the big field eventually.”

  “Anyway, I have bigger… philosophical objections.”

  “Such as?”

  “You also know how I feel about these big City capture attempts. Look, they’re what makes this entire war one of attrition. And once you’re flinging men at progression that can be measured in feet, you already lost. Trench warfare from the First World War. Sacrificing hundreds in Vietnam to take a hill, just to abandon it once it’s captured. You either win outright, or you tactically retreat when you can and try again elsewhere. Anything else is a waste of time, resources, and lives, and every victory is pyrrhic.”

  “Damn,” Finx said. “I had no idea you were so… introspective.”

  “It’s the cost of war,” Sasoire replied. “Yeah. I hate it, too. But eventually one side wins. The flow of resources has to go somewhere, and run out somewhere.”

  Garder went on, “The kid commanders were brought aboard to bring new tactics and troop management methods to his war, and while it’s worked in some respects, the problem is you all—every officer—doesn’t think enough about macro strategy, how Aurra is different than Earth.”

  “Aw, hell,” Tabi was heard huffing as she came in from behind, with two bowls full of stew for herself. “Are you two debating again?”

  “Tabi!” Milla turned in her seat, beaming. “It’s been too long.”

  “Sure has. How have you been, love?”

  After Tabi found a space to plop down, Xavier asked, “And in what ways are you thinking about that difference, Garder?”

  “Cities all produce and specialize in essentially one industry each. That means whoever controls one… Ah, it means acquiring that resource is much more difficult for the other side. The strikes we’ve had to do in V, the recent one in S? The metals in E that we were so desperate to have, we let the City be bombed to hell to keep? What we should be doing is hitting Cities—either in quick raids, or having total control that only lasts until the big mobilized counterattack—and leave with the goods before we start losing entire battalions and experienced soldiers. We keep gathering resources, we move them to allied Cities like F, then we wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Bryant wondered.

  “The big day. The coup de grace. When you have enough tools of war to throw everything against the capital and take it, with all the resources and men and machines you didn’t lose trying to hold places like D and E indefinitely. And that lets us minimize supply lines, focus on strongholds. What does D even give us, really? It’s an urban center. We want it so we can say west Onasia is ours. But its tangible assets aren’t worth it.”

  Milla eyed Sasoire, who looked back at her. She had been listening intently, her hands together under her chin. Once Garder began to tear into his stew and it was obvious he was done, Sasoire let out a sigh.

  “There are more people who disapprove of the Guard than support them, Nolland. You know that. But we still don’t have the numbers as far as soldiers go to pull off mass incursions. The public is inspired by actual victories, taking capitol buildings. We need to rack up more points like that first, or else, who will we even have to fill up all these supposed new war machines we’ll be making?”

  “I… I must admit…” Milla spoke up. “I underestimated what seven years of warfare would do to my brother. I never thought I’d hear him talking about strategy and plays like that. I think he must know more about all of this than I do at this point.”

  “We have a lot of downtime, too, Milla,” he replied and slurped down the rest of his meal. “A lot of time for thinking. And surrounded by all this, it’s hard to think much about anything else.”

  “Mm, there is one thing I’ve wondered about as well,” Wendell said, rubbing his chin. “We don’t often talk about the roots of the war, how events shaped its course. Studying such aspects, even if they’re in the past, is by no means a waste of time. Understanding cause remains important.”

  “Sure, but in what way?” Xavier asked.

  “I wonder, often, considering our odds were always long… if this war would have been won by the Guard years ago if it weren’t for the king’s purging efforts. He destroyed an entire military academy in F, just because its recruits no longer met the criteria he was after. Yet he also sacrificed many veteran Guardsmen at the very outset of the war when he tried to take I. War training was inefficient for all of the remaining Guardsmen, and with the loss of providence, recruiting replacements was difficult. The Guard must have been… immensely weakened by all of this, and instead of crushing us within a year, here we are. Still are.”

  “Lontonkon was power-hungry and blind, I think we’ve established that. But Rivia never expected this to be over in a generation. He always saw the Guard gradually weaken with every wave of rebirths.”

  “So, we’re too close in strength, and got dragged into a stalemate.”

  Sasoire crossed her arms and shook her head. “All this talk about stalemates and lack of progress. We’re simply supposed to keep fighting until the fighting’s done. I won’t be bogged down by speculation.”

  “By the way, Tabi, what are you doing back aboard so soon?” Garder asked her. “Weren’t you going to help establish Murnyr for a few more days before rejoining the fleet for D?”

  “I figured that the guys stationed there had a grip on things. The island will give us a nice staging point for intercepting some barges from V.” She turned to Milla and elaborated, “Secondary reason we’re moving past the island: we can hit a few food shipments on the way out.”

  “Oh, good,” Milla said with a yawn. “The train robberies are starting to get tiring. Sasoire… can I ask, do you like Garder?”

  “That’s an odd question.”

  “I mean, in general—do you like working with him, do you like the results? I hate to say it this way, but I’m looking for a… performance report.”

  Garder rolled his one visible eye and sighed. “Never change, sis.”

  “He’s a force,” Sasoire answered. “An unwieldy jackhammer at times. But… I’d be lying if I didn’t say I respect and appreciate my position as his personal commander. He gets results, and he’s worth the effort.”

  He sunk his face into his palm. “Christ sake…”

  “Anyway,” Sasoire faked a cough, “I assume you know about that light show a few hours ago, as it came from W’s direction.”

  “Did that beam just keep spreading?” Simon questioned.

  “Like a shock wave, in all directions. What was that?”

  This time, Verim was the one to reply, despite his sullen mood. “Earth opening up again. Nish found a way. He was going to go through and use his own personal army to surprise attack the Administration.”

  Sasoire’s eyes became a little wider. “Well. That sounds serious.”

  Milla replied, “We need to talk with Pangs about all of this, and many other things, and it’s a conversation Garder, Verim, and also Wendell should be a part of. If you do need assistance in D… they should be ready by then, and we could send them your way in a demirriage.”

  “Honestly…” Verim muttered, “I’m not sure I want to see my home town in the state it’s in.”

  After thinking it over for a moment, Sasoire answered, “Very well. The Red Tenor carries our fleet’s one scroll. I’ll let you borrow it.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Milla said with relief. “We should—”

  Something exploded in the air near the ship. It rocked the cabin, caused the lights to sway violently, and nearly knocked everyone in the mess hall off of their chairs. Several more air bursts could be heard further away, each one rattling the metal plates of the vessel’s hull.

  “Attack from below!” the pilot’s voice exclaimed over the ship-wide speakers. “All crew, mobilize and protect the Tenor with alchemagi!”

  “Ah, hell, we must’ve stumbled on an enemy naval fleet,” Sasoire said angrily. “We have to hurry to the bridge, where the scroll is kept.”

  “We’ll help with the defense,” Xavier said and got to his feet with the rest of his team. “Flak isn’t too hard to deal with.”

  “You guys have done this before?” Rhys replied.

  “It’s rough out here,” Sieger explained.

  Sasoire and the others left the mess hall as its lights shut off, and stepped onto the metal gangway separating it from the armored bow. The Tenor and all of the other airships had turned off their lights to help them hide, and anyone adept in alchemagi was taking their place to create or bolster defensive spells. Upon seeing a dark sky full of exploding shrapnel, Rhys stopped, spread his arms, and created a vortex field around the entirety of the ship. It was little more than wind that would partially deflect incoming shells, but its area of effect was wide enough to tire him out.

  “My crew can handle this sort of thing,” Sasoire told him.

  “I’m sure they can,” he huffed, “but I specialize in air spells.”

  They watched as a smaller airship several hundred feet away suddenly burst into flames and began descending to the cold, dark ocean below, where sunspheres protected a minor armada of Guard battleships, their cannons aimed straight up at the low-altitude targets.

  “Let him do his thing, we’ll get back to him,” Garder said.

  Sasoire nodded and kept leading the way toward the bridge as the ship kept shaking and loose parts and equipment broke off.

  Once they were inside the gun deck and going past the cannons that couldn’t target anything directly below them, Simon asked her, “How are we going to use a scroll if all the lights are off?”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “My meditation chamber doesn’t have a window,” she answered. “And its lights will work; it has its own circuit for this very purpose.”

  “Doesn’t our sunsphere reveal our position, anyway?”

  “Sunsphere light is dim enough to disappear behind a cloud, and luckily we have a few out there tonight. So, yes, a blackout still helps us.”

  They made it into the bridge, where Menin was overseeing the fleet’s evasive maneuvers as the pilot simply held onto the wheel tightly, with one hand on the throttle. The airships could move faster than the steel behemoths below, but not fast enough to get them out of danger quickly.

  “No, no—Dragonfly, do not deploy your bombers,” he ordered. “We can’t risk time and resources on this naval fleet. Just focus on defense, we’ve already lost two ships. Soaring Jasper, do we have a count on the number of vessels below yet?” Menin asked before turning to the group.

  The captain of another airship replied into his earpiece, and Menin acknowledged Sasoire and the guests with a nod. She gestured with her hands that she needed the scroll, and once he nodded again, she went over to the safe by the radar operator and turned the dials to open it.

  “I need this back,” she said, handing it to Milla. “Or swapped for a better one—that’d be even better. Thing’s falling apart, I barely trust it.”

  “That’s fine,” Verim grumbled. “After the day I’ve had, dissolving via carriage malfunction doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “Ease up a little, Verim,” Garder sighed.

  “I should stay here,” Sasoire said after the ship was rocked again. “Garder can lead you to the chamber. It was nice to meet all of you.”

  Milla replied, “Commander, if you didn’t know already, you were going to find out soon. After D, the fleet should come to C. We’re about ready to combine forces and refocus our efforts.”

  “Good to know. I look forward to working with C and the burrow directly. I just hope… it’s the right call. But I’ll continue to trust Rivia.”

  With no time for further pleasantries, Garder led the way back towards the stern of the ship, where the engine room and meditation chamber resided. On the way, they collected Rhys, who was a bit hesitant at first to release his protective winds, despite there now being several others right near him also deploying defensive alchemagi.

  As they headed to the engines back in the aft cabin, Wendell commented, “Always been a bit of an Aurrian airship enthusiast. I think I recognize this style as third wave industrial, circa 1650 or so.”

  “Machinery of this age still impresses me…” Simon murmured.

  “But how far back are we going? The engines are getting damn loud. Who would put a meditation chamber close to it?”

  “The tempo of the machinery is actually great to meditate to,” Garder replied. “You’d be surprised how you can get used to it.”

  Just as Garder was the first to reach the door to the small room, it felt and sounded like the Red Tenor took a direct hit—but it must not have been a serious one, as the engines kept running and the vessel didn’t sink or tilt despite the alarms indicating a fire onboard.

  “Come on…” Garder muttered after opening up the scroll in the exact center of the chamber, its lights bringing the carriage to life at an uncomfortably slow pace. “This thing better work.”

  “Actually, we still have to wait two minutes, anyway,” Milla said, checking her pocket watch. “The burrow isn’t quite open yet.”

  The carriage finished forming with thirty seconds to spare, at which point the group had nothing else to do but look at it and wait as the ship burned around them, with Milla keeping her eyes on her watch.

  “Um, Milla…” Rhys spoke after something large, perhaps a support beam, crashed onto the roof above. “Can we go… now?”

  “A few more seconds. We have to make sure C is open.”

  “We can at least get into it though, right?”

  Milla eyed the carriage, determined it was as formed as it was going to be considering the frailty of its old scroll, and directed everyone to climb in. The six crammed themselves inside the vehicle made of light, with Milla keeping her focus on the watch until it hit the first minute of their window. She hit the button hard, and they were transported out of the crippled airship and into C’s safe arrival space.

  It was the grand foyer of the old manor, their entry point from the very first time they had stepped foot in C from the Sahara years ago. They arrived on a raised platform in a wide-open room lit up by floodlights; all a precaution against anyone arriving who wasn’t supposed to be there. A dozen guards, half of them posted on the second floor and looking down, complemented the defendable entry point, one of the very few spaces in all of the City surrounded by a small Faraday cage which negated the wider anti-demirriage field permeating the local air.

  “Easy, it’s us,” Milla called out to the twitchy guards as the carriage began to fade within the confines of the cage. “And we’re in a hurry.”

  The man with the gate key walked up to let them out, at which point Garder had to stop and take in the sight of the building, a twinge of nostalgia breaking through his otherwise hardened mental state.

  “I hope the Red Tenor pulls through,” Rhys huffed as they headed towards the manor’s ornate doors. “That was looking bad. And we took Commander Sasoire’s only means of escape.”

  “She gave it to us as they were being attacked,” Milla replied. “I hope that speaks to her confidence that they’ll make it out.”

  City C was cold, windless, and dark—nothing like Garder had remembered from his first visit on a rainy and busy night.

  Looking up and seeing how many towers had become vacant, he muttered, “Place looks like a derelict. And it’s not even that late here.”

  “So… C hasn’t always looked like this?” Rhys asked.

  “It was beautiful, in its own way, once,” Milla replied and waved to the Angel carriage pilot waiting for a them on the curbside.

  He rubbed his hands together to warm up, opened the carriage door, and went to the front as the group got into their next, much more solid transport. Once they were in the air and heading towards the capitol tower, Garder crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat to think.

  “How are we going to play this with Pangs?” he questioned.

  Wendell replied, “I’m assuming we don’t just barge in and demand answers. Milla, surely you’ve gotten to know him over the years.”

  “A little more, I guess, but he’s always held onto some secrets.”

  Once they had arrived at the City’s central tower, Milla helped to expedite the group through security, and they headed to Pangs’ floor high up in the sky. His large office, nearly unchanged since Garder had last seen it, was occupied only by two people—Kyrel himself, and Masayuki, who was talking to him as he leaned on his ostentatious wooden desk.

  “Captain Nolland,” Pangs said once he saw her and the others approach. “Mr. Xin and I were just wrapping up our discussion on the phenomena that happened earlier today. I assume you know already.”

  “We were there,” Milla remarked.

  Masayuki turned around and looked surprised. “Garder? Verim, Wendell? You’re back… Are you only visiting?”

  Instead of answering, Milla asked him, “Where’s Shin?”

  “She’s already gone.”

  “What?”

  “I mean to Hold’s kingdom! I, uh… Yeah, sorry I said that wrong.”

  Milla let out a large sigh of relief and felt her rapidly beating heart. “Don’t scare me like that… What happened, exactly?”

  “My team confirmed that Earth was open the moment the shock wave of light hit us,” Pangs replied. “We couldn’t explain it, but the possibility was the first thing we wanted to test. This changes everything, Captain. We’ve planned for it, wrote up ideas on how to use Earth both offensively and defensively. Tomorrow morning will be a busy one for the war council. Perhaps… Garder, would you like to join us?”

  Garder couldn’t settle on a definitive answer before Masayuki added, “Once we knew for sure, I woke Shin, and… We used the old portal together. I pushed her to Earth, and we saw the sun rise over the dunes. She smiled. We talked. I think we felt like kids again. And then I… you know, I helped her on her way. She has so much to tell Escellé. In a few days, we’ll retrieve her from N. She should be ready for the field again.”

  “Good to know. Really, I’m glad she’s going to be back in top form and held out, but… Commander, can we have the room?”

  Masayuki looked at Pangs, who nodded.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then. Captain.”

  He took his leave, at which point Pangs gestured to the seats around his desk. But his guests felt like standing.

  “We need to talk about a few things,” Milla started. “Would you happen to know someone who once went by Gnell Chi’velix?”

  Pangs clasped his hands together and let out a huff.

  “Kyrel, please,” Simon implored. “We need answers.”

  Pangs looked back up at the group and said after a deep breath, “So… you spoke to Nish. I was prepared for that.”

  “Seeing his lab…” Milla continued, “and after fighting him, and listening to the way he spoke and hearing about his goals… Pangs, he had access to technology that let him put newsouls into the bodies of clones. You’ve had similar capabilities in this building for at least a decade. And even though I don’t yet understand why he’d want to destroy them… Just tell us—are you and Nish with the Administration?”

  He swiveled in his chair, looked out of his window for a moment, and then stood and replied, “Yes. And technically, we still are.”

  Milla watched in her peripheral as Garder’s hand came a little closer to his holstered sword. Verim, next to him, took on a scowl.

  “You know so little about us, that you don’t even know where to begin, what to ask. Let me just start off with this: I’m not your enemy. And I’ve never done or said anything to you that would suggest otherwise.”

  “But you never told us,” Milla argued.

  “Because I saw no reason to. I no longer associate with my people. I live on the surface to try and do some good. My animal project—that was my effort to solve the transfer problem and help C. As an Administrator, I do have inner knowledge of how spiritual transference works. Animals don’t rely on tunnels and hardwired connections like we do. I was hoping to find a workaround, as we continued seemingly impossible repairs.”

  “Fine, but that doesn’t tell me who your people are.”

  “Captain. There are many things I can’t tell you. And I have the mental fortitude to block any attempts to try, even if you use Temki. Once you’re an Administrator, you’re always one. You’re reborn into it, into our capital and one true City of our own, deep under City U. We share our Earth lives with you, but in Aurra, we’re relegated to a dull life of both mind-numbing leisure and long, tiring shifts in which we try to maintain even just the basic functions of Aurra’s systems and balance.”

  “So, your soul is… tagged?”

  “Altered, to describe it more accurately. For my past seven lives, whenever I’m reborn there, I leave as soon as I can.”

  “They just let you do that?” Rhys questioned.

  “Because very few choose to, yes. It means I can’t return in this life, and of course, I’m not supposed to reveal any of what I’m telling you.”

  “And this makes me… half-Administrator,” Verim said.

  After taking a moment to ponder, Pangs replied, “I see. I had heard that he may have had a son in a past life. But, Mr. Grenwich, biologically we are the same. Your inner being does not at all belong to my people.”

  “Why don’t your people get involved in this war?” Garder asked. “Don’t you have the power to stop it, regardless of what side you support?”

  “We’ve never interfered that directly. It goes against our… code.”

  “Then why haven’t they given the Guard back their providence?”

  “Because… maybe your side earned that change.”

  “You’re not making sense. You were there, Pangs, on the mesa the first day we fought the Guard, supporting us. And the suppression chamber under A was created and run by the Administration. If your people don’t want the Guard to fall, you at least wanted us to fight them on equal ground. You’re letting this happen.”

  “I did choose a side. I do want to see the Guard die, because their time has come and gone, and they no longer function as a ruling power. I’m cut off from my City, so I have to assume our own leaders decided to let the war continue. The Guard has always been at odds with us, hated us for not lending them a hand across many instances throughout history. And if Nish did want to wipe us out, too… I’m not surprised.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Gnell—that’s his Administration name that we use as a second moniker across all of our lives—stopped staying in our City even before I did. I got to know him well long ago, maybe some twenty lifetimes in the past, when we were siblings. He… did not enjoy being alive, the idea of having to do everything all over again for eternity.”

  “Yeah, we got that part,” Verim said.

  “Verim, I’m sorry that you found out about your origins the way you did, but I’m not responsible for what Nish has done. We’re nothing alike. Most Administrators live a long, dull, monotonous existence and only look forward to going to Earth without their memories. I don’t believe in ‘wasting’ a life like that. I’d rather be here, trying to make a difference.”

  The others relaxed their tense muscles, and after a sigh, Milla said, “I’ll want you to tell us more about your people at a later time, but for now… I think we could all use some sleep.”

  “There really is very little to tell, even if I did break my vow of secrecy. But, please let me know, do you still trust me?”

  Milla looked at everyone else before replying, “For now. I’m sure that we’re only suspicious because we know nothing about those who work and live below, not so much that we suddenly consider them an enemy.”

  “I’ll still be here in the morning, Nolland. Still… doing my work. Please don’t spread the word around. Most people have seen far less of this world than you and your friends, and have narrower acceptance.”

  She nodded, and though the others did so somewhat grudgingly, they followed her out and to the elevator.

  “We’re just letting him off like that?” Garder muttered as they approached the elevator.

  Once she put in the code for the burrow on the first try and the doors closed, Milla replied, “What’s the alternative, Garder? He’s one of our commanding officers, he always has my back on the council, and he’s come up with some of our best ideas and strategies over the years.”

  “But he’s… He and Nish are from the same place…”

  “Sounding a little prejudice there, Garder,” Simon said. “I spend ten hours a day with him or his research team. I trust him implicitly.”

  “If you’re around anyone for that long, of course you would. Pangs could have his own motives that just haven’t diverged from our own yet.”

  Wendell questioned, “What motives would an exiled Administrator subscribe to? If all they do for an entire lifetime is maintain everything, then perhaps the only dangerous motivation any of them would have is to destroy everything instead, as Nish apparently wanted. I doubt that is Pangs’ goal.”

  “You can trust him all you want,” Garder relented. “But I won’t be taking my eye off of him for a second. Verim, Rhys—you see where I’m coming from, right?”

  Verim looked at him in a way that suggested he agreed, but Rhys simply looked down at the floor. Before the conversation had a chance to grow in intensity, they hit the bottom and the doors opened.

  “Here we are…” Milla said and led the way. “You three only got to see this place briefly, but it’s really become a home for the rest of us. Only place in Aurra I feel truly safe.”

  “I shouldn’t stay long,” Garder replied. “I’m needed on the field.”

  “At least say hi to Dad before you go.”

  “Right…”

  Upon entering the atrium, the few burrowers up at the hour turned and watched the visitors, most eyes on Garder. He looked around to see that the place hadn’t changed much, and then noticed a group of teenagers relaxing in the lounge area by the lit fireplace, a glass of wine in a few of their hands, and the girl with long blond hair with an old book in hers.

  Lechi jolted up from her armchair upon noticing them, nearly spilling her wine as she exclaimed, “Rhys? Where were… Garder?”

  “Hey,” he said back. “Brat.”

  “And Verim, and Wendell!” Rayna added to the greetings excitedly, showing no evidence of how upset she had been earlier.

  Temki and Norria joined them in heading over to say the proper hellos, and more remarks made about Garder’s height and appearance were made. Milla had used the moment to sneak away towards the hall.

  “Don’t leave me here like this…” Garder grumbled.

  Milla replied, “I’ll be right back. Just do some catching up.”

  “Ah, man, what a day…” Simon sighed and fell onto the lounge couch, where he picked up a nearby Earthen laptop in dire need of some software and hardware updates. “I’m just gonna… catch up on some things of my own. You know, check my ‘Eden-mail’. Standard Aurrian things.”

  “Garder, your aura feels… so much different than it did even five years ago,” Temki said as he concentrated.

  “You can stop feeling my aura, thanks. Hey, do I still have a room here, or should I just fall asleep on this couch?”

  “We have some empty rooms,” Norria said. “It’s good to see you again, Garder, but we’re still wondering about where Rhys went.”

  “We found and stopped Nish,” Rhys summarized. “Freed the surviving clones. Oh, and we got shot down. Colt’s doing repairs in W.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lechi replied. “So, typical day. That’s mostly good news, but I don’t want you sneaking off again like that.”

  “Okay, boss. Just got personal for me this time.”

  “Rayna, how are your parents?” Wendell asked her.

  “Just fine. Like Brim, they don’t stay up late. You remember him, right? Osk’s son? Garder, what happened to your eye?” she questioned as Verim meandered away, likely to find a room.

  “Why doesn’t anyone know that’s rude to ask?”

  “S-sorry… I was just worried when I saw the eyepatch.”

  “I took a direct hit to the face from a rocket launcher.”

  “No… no way. You’re joking… right?”

  “Sorry, lass, he hasn’t even told us the exact details,” Wendell said.

  “I just did,” Garder continued. “I’m telling you—I’ve become a tough bastard. I shrug off things that would break a normal man."

  “Your sense of humor is still there, kinda,” Lechi stated.

  “What is Milla doing…? I’m about to start wandering around.”

  She re-emerged from the central hallway, with Leovyn and two medical personnel following behind. Once Leovyn’s eyes met the remaining one of his son’s, he froze in place for a moment.

  “Garder. Finally. You’re back where you belong.”

  “It… doesn’t feel that way.”

  “I worried about you every day, kid,” Leovyn said and got closer to study Garder, who eyed the medical staff behind him. “You look like hell.”

  “Hold on. What are you trying to do? Put me in a padded cell?”

  “Garder, I need you to listen—”

  “Milla,” he called out to her as he backed away and brought three fingers up to his chest. “This better not be your idea…”

  “You know you can’t use alchemagi in here. Look, I want to help.”

  Milla urged him, “Garder, please. You have been worrying me since W, but this is more about… It’s just some tests, okay? I went through them, too. At my own insistence. We both harbor half of an apostle, another life, and none of this is normal. We have to make sure everything is… you know, stable. In balance. Please.”

  “I’m perfectly in control,” Garder tried to assure everyone, but grew visibly agitated when he seemed to only succeeded in frightening the youth group. “I… I don’t lose myself. I’m fine.”

  “This is all little more than a standard checkup, son,” Leovyn said and in one large stride, got uncomfortably close to Garder. “I’m sure you could use one of those anyway, after all these rough years.”

  “I have nothing to hide. I just want to sleep. And you’re wasting your time with me—you should send the Mezik out and help the division I serve with, they’re under attack and—”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. They’re on their own for now.”

  “Dad! You can’t just abandon them, after all they’ve done. Stop hiding and actually start helping us for a—” Garder suddenly felt all the air escape from his lungs, and looked down to see that Leovyn had just hit him hard and squarely in the chest, winding him.

  “I’m sorry. The burrow just can’t take risks.”

  Struggling to breathe and unable to summon Caeden or alchemagi to help him out of something as simple as a paternal blow, Garder dropped to his knees as the two medical personnel got behind him. Leovyn grabbed his sword, and the medics took him away towards the clinic.

  “Christ…” Leovyn muttered and fell into one of the lounge chairs, where he poured himself some of the nearby City V wine. “That was worse than how I always imagined it. I hope he’ll forgive me someday.”

  “I understand the precaution,” Wendell replied, “But, Leovyn, I’m also concerned about the fleet. We ran into a sizeable naval force outside Y, which has become… inexplicably heavily defended recently.”

  “We can investigate what’s going on out there, but Mr. Celin, you must understand why I’m hesitant to deploy the Mezik.”

  “You’re afraid of new countermeasures, right? The Guard has advanced on the field, just as we have, but you may overestimate them.”

  “Is Garder really that dangerous?” Rhys wondered.

  Milla was the first to respond, and she didn’t hold back. “Yes. So am I. And it’s not our fault. We have something in us that can awaken and take control, and it has… he has immense power and something of a vengeful nature. Think about how terrifying that can be for us.”

  Leovyn added, “We just want to make sure he’s still himself. And, physically, not leaking alchemagi or sustaining… other kinds of damage.”

  “Everyone, could I have the room with Leovyn?” Milla asked the others. “It’s very late, and we’ve all earned a good night’s sleep.”

  “Yeah, no problem,” Norria replied. “Goodnight, Captain.”

  Rhys and Temki followed her out, with Rayna waiting a moment longer so she could walk and talk with Wendell, whom she had missed the most of all. Simon closed his laptop, yawned, and got to his feet.

  “We’re going to need to make this up to Garder,” he told Milla and Leovyn. “Regardless of the results. I can tell he’s in pain.”

  “He’ll get the help he needs,” Leovyn promised him. “I know we’re on a fragile path here, but this is one of the few places in Aurra that can…” he sighed, “contain him, I suppose.”

  “Just don’t assume he needs all the help you think he does. Maybe he really is fine, in regards to Caeden. But just needs the emotional support any ravaged soldier deserves. I’ll leave you with that. Goodnight.”

  Milla poured herself a full glass of wine once they were the last two in the lounge, fell back into a chair, and took a deserved, and long, sip.

  “So… Pangs is an Administrator,” she announced.

  Leovyn barely reacted and replied, “I know.”

  “You did? For how long?”

  “Three, four years now? I’ve had my suspicions for a while. And he didn’t really attempt to hide it when I voiced them. As I’ve been around even longer than you have… Well, actually, it probably barely makes a difference. The same rumors and hearsay we have now are pretty much unchanged from thousands of years ago. Only thing I really assume about his people, is that they must be miserable. If he feels like he can do more meaningful work on the surface… I don’t doubt he’s wrong.”

  “Nish was… is one, too. He wanted to destroy his own people, maybe cause chaos of some kind. But he’s in a deep sleep, and I don’t think he’ll be waking up anytime soon. The past few hours have reinforced for me that we really are alone in this war. The Administrators aren’t going to spring up and help either side to victory. It’s just us, stuck in a mess.”

  “Yeah. Seems that way. All they did was… not fix suppression. Makes you wonder if they stand to benefit somehow from all this death, or if eventually, maybe we’ll even ally with the Guard and go to war with those below us instead, both sides desperate for any sort of change. I don’t think that when Peter… Rivia set us out on some ‘multi-generational’ war, that he realized just how quickly it would wear on us.”

  “Maybe we should just surrender,” Milla half-heartedly suggested.

  “I wish we could,” he admitted, the fireplace’s last embers going out. “But then we just lose control of everyone who still wants to fight, and we have even more chaos. Sorry, kid. No easy way out.”

  The Grand Aurrian Opera House in City A was the largest theater in the world, and yet its capacity, divided among spacious VIP boxes with no form of more economic seating, was among the lowest. On any given night, it was full of nobility, senators, councilors, sometimes kings and queens, and every box had its own miniature bar and a personal concierge.

  On this night, two pretorians happened to be in the audience, dressed in their best as they watched from the first row of the loge. Down below, on an elaborate set that was recreated every night by a synthesizer so that it was always slightly different, one of Aurra’s most renown actresses concluded The Epic of Mightoria, her voice perfect, almost angelic.

  It was a five-hour, three-act play about the discovery and founding of the continent of Mightoria after a brave expedition from the west some fifteen hundred years ago, ending with the settling of A on the subcontinent of Grandis and the proclamation that it would one day soon be the City of Heaven on Aurra and was destined to be its new capital. The story had been told many times before in other ways, but this particular play was brand new, and Phisa had been ecstatic about seeing something modern.

  “And even the gods shall weep,” Queen Jeoliang said to the settlers, which the full cast of sixty had been transformed into following their many other roles, “for not even they could conceive of such a land. May Grandis live forever, and become our living Elysium.”

  The audience cheered as the players bowed and the red and indigo velvet curtain dropped, with Phisa standing and clapping with great vigor. She felt no need for her mask here, and knew she had to see her first City A play with unfiltered eyes. Kae Anneise, her date for the night, joined her in standing but applauded with the subdued grace of royalty.

  “Incredible,” Phisa breathed out when she finally tired of slapping her hands together. “Even just to be here… I do enjoy the finer things.” After she finished off her newest drink, she turned to Kae, having to look up just to keep eye contact. “Thank you, Ms. Anneise. I didn’t want to go alone, and it’s… wonderful to know a pretorian of similar tastes.”

  “The others don’t appreciate art and culture nearly as much, I’m sorry to say. But what else is there to protect and treasure, truly?”

  “And your dress is still incredible…” Phisa admired the long, sleek, and colorful gown made of silk and decorated in oranges, reds, and whites. “It’s custom synthesized, isn’t it? I’ll need to update my wardrobe.”

  “Of course it is. They usually don’t make clothes in this size.”

  Upon leaving the building, the two noticed something unusual, especially in a City where there were so many things to see that were more beautiful than the setting Aurrian sun. But hundreds were indeed watching.

  “What is…” Phisa murmured and looked towards A’s central pearlescent clock tower. “It’s only seven? It’s so bright.”

  Able to better investigate from the top of the opera house staircase with the benefit of her height, Kae’s eyes skimmed across the plaza as A’s elite nobility watched the sun go down, straight across a major street. It was the only time of day, just before its end, when it was safe to look at it nearly straight on. It was easy to see why it was attracting attention; it really was brighter than usual, and Phisa was certain that the temperature was somehow unchanged from the afternoon—or had even risen since then.

  “Anneise, Camryde,” Renek’s voice piped up from the crowds of people leaving the theater. Once they turned and saw him halfway up the steps, he waved for them to follow. “Drides is calling a meeting.”

  “What’s happening?” Phisa asked once they were on their way.

  Quietly, Renek answered, “I’m not sure, but Pristil is in the middle of her own emergency session, in the senate. Earth just reopened.”

  “Wait, really? Kae, do you think this has anything to do with that flash of light we saw in the second act?”

  Renek replied first, “There was a bright shock wave of some kind, and it passed through everything.”

  “I think the audience all thought it was just a stage light bursting.”

  “Has Lenal returned from W?” Kae inquired.

  “I… I’m not sure,” Renek said as they crossed the street and the pretorian manor, which was very close by, came into view. “I only know that one of his men just arrived, I believe to report… something.”

  Understanding that they were now in a hurry and had no time to change, Phisa and Kae entered the manor grounds and arrived within the meeting room overdressed and with a long play still on their minds. Inside, Drides was at his chair, speaking with a clearly exhausted Guardsman. It was an unexpected sight, as anyone who wasn’t a pretorian or maintained the building very rarely stepped foot inside the manor. Trinqit was at her chair and out of earshot, and didn’t turn to acknowledge the others.

  “Keep this from the queen,” Drides told Lenal’s subordinate. “I’ll tell her myself, when the time is right. Return to your barracks.”

  The Guardsman bowed and left without a word, at which point everyone took their seat and Trinqit saw what Kae and Phisa were wearing.

  “Did we interrupt your, ah, night out?”

  “It had already ended,” Kae replied. “William, what’s this about?”

  He got right to the point by saying, “Lenal is dead.”

  “Well… That’s unexpected. Was it at the hands of a Nolland?”

  “Surprisingly, no. Nish proved to be more dangerous than we expected. He wiped out his men, and barely had to move a muscle.”

  “What, how?” Renek replied. “Damn it… What happened?”

  “I have doubts. The survivor tells me that the Nolland twins and their team were incapacitated and left to be finished off, and yet… he also told me that he saw the lab ablaze before he fled the City. I don’t think Nish would have taken the torch to his work… at least not so quickly.”

  “Do you know him personally, Drides?” Phisa asked. “I thought very little was known about him, even though the Guard was funding his clone project, and… what was that other one?”

  “Rediscovering a method to create a functional demirriage,” Trinqit answered. “And that, he delivered to the Guard… before disappearing.”

  “I’m only saying that he would have taken time to clean up before moving on,” Drides explained. “Until we can get better information, I’m going to assume that the Nollands are still out there. And to that end, Lenal’s vacated seat may provide something of an opportunity.”

  “You’re already talking about replacing him?” Renek said with a sigh. “Not even Connarth has had his proper service yet.”

  “They both will. But we don’t have the time to slow down for them in the middle of a war. Mr. Renek, I understand that you met with Pristil just before her emergency session. Did she give you an assignment?”

  “She did, sir. Anneise and I are to…” he turned to properly break the news to her, as well, “assist in our retreat from D.”

  Trinqit fell back in her chair with some audible grumbles, while Drides looked disappointed, but not surprised.

  “Of course…” he breathed. “She’s steadily giving up on Onasia.”

  “She said we don’t have the means or manpower to continue the fight there, and I agreed. To continue would be to waste both lives and resources. But I did bring up Phisa’s plan,” he continued, noticing the subtle look of surprise on her face. “And if we free up our forces there, we may be able to put it into action on the day she suggested.”

  “Hm.” Drides thought for a moment. “Good. Charles and Kae, you can go ahead and prepare to move out. Save as many as you can. The three of us will take care of the preparations for Lenal’s replacement.”

  They both nodded, hesitantly, and headed off.

  Once Drides was confident that they had both left the manor, he gestured Phisa and Trinqit to come in closer. “I want to see if we can sever the connection Caeden has with the Nollands. I’d like to enlist the aid of a mind adept named Vermer.”

  Trinqit looked mildly disturbed by the idea. “But, Will… He’s a lunatic, isn’t he? Not to mention in Z, where he belongs.”

  “You’re right on both counts. Phisa, are you up for a jail break?”

  She grimaced, having believed she’d never revisit Aurra’s prison.