82. Apprentice

A/N: Hey! Chappy time. I hear it is a certain Discord Memelord's birthday today... or maybe was. Depending on where she lives I might be a couple hours late, but one way or another, happy birthday, Rachel! Thank you for making my server such a delightful place. You never fail to make me smile. I hope the chapter does the same for you! Enjoy!

What…? What are they saying? The Antipathy aren't dead? 

"I really don't like hearing you say that immediately after examining my soul," I say, not bothering to hide the touch of hysteria I'm feeling. "What do you mean when you say they haven't destroyed themselves as comprehensively as you believed?"

Come to think of it, way back before Thea had even given me the ability to talk, Melpomene was insistent that there was some other soul inside the device she made me with. I'd halfway thought it was a bluff or delusion she thought up to convince herself that she didn't kill and enslave me, but…

"I… I do have a human soul, right?" I ask.

"That is a somewhat irrelevant question," Laku'noto says. "A soul is not an independent entity. It cannot function without a body. We would argue that regardless of its origin, your current soul is an artifact soul."

"Please don't argue that," I say. "I've been under the impression that my autonomy is only being respected because your kind still considers me human."

"An unpleasant but plausible accusation," Laku'noto considers. "Even among our own kind, the nature of the soul is mythologized to an unnecessary degree. In truth, however, souls do not contain independent personhood; they are merely the metaphysical connective tissue between biology and emotional energy. They hold feelings, but not memories."

"What if I've had unexplained feelings before?" I ask. "Like bouts of nostalgia when looking at Antipathy ruins."

"Difficult to say," Laku'noto hums. "There are several possibilities. Due to the copied and digitized nature of your memories, false or extra information could have been added, which would result in a similar qualia. You comprehend the Ahgrentaf language, do you not?"

"I do," I confirm.

"Some level of inexplicable nostalgia for a culture you have implanted knowledge of is not unreasonable," Laku'noto says. "Perhaps more tellingly, your original body lacks its original soul. It is most reasonable to assume that soul ended up here."

"Why did you say the Ahgrentaf may not have destroyed themselves, then?" I ask.

"Because of your maker's mark," Laku'noto answers. "Your soul has been… searching vocabulary, one moment. 'Branded,' perhaps?"

What, like a cow!?

"A similar identifier is present on the back of your central processor, if microscopically." Laku'noto continues. "There are several other indicators of direct intelligent design. Your frame, for example. Given its clear resemblance to the human form, it must have been designed after the Great Execration. While it's possible that a non-sapient AI scanned you and used your original body as a base for the design, such a thing would not have any context to actually understand human biology, let alone culture. And yet, your body lacks genitals, nipples, and a mouth. These conspicuous absences are relevant to human culture, poignantly metaphorical, or both. An automated process would not do this."

"…What if it was just simplifying the design?" I ask. "Smoothing out rough spots, limiting unnecessary articulation, and so on?"

"Unlikely," Laku'noto says, reaching out and tapping my toes with one tentacle. "Your body has extant examples of unnecessary articulation. Your balance system doesn't match a human's, given your fully solid soles, but effort was still put into matching the aesthetics. Similarly, you could perform all your necessary functions with fewer fingers, but you possess all five."

"So… you think a living Antipathy did this to Luna?" Thea asks. "That's… I mean, that's impossible. We know that Melpomene used an artifact to turn Luna into a robot, and there's no way she'd ever keep quiet about it if she met an Antipathy during that process."

"Ahgrentaf," Laku'noto corrects. "Do not reduce the name of a great people to only their madness."

"I… okay," Thea says. "Are the Ahgrentaf alive?"

She butchers the pronunciation a bit, but Laku'noto seems satisfied.

"Perhaps," Laku'noto says. "It is… possible. But the other aspects of this artifact we find strange indicate that they are likely not. At least, not any more alive than your Luna is."

"You're saying there are digitized Ahgrentaf," I realize. "That a robotic Antipathy made me."

That's… crazy. It's insane. And it's terrifyingly plausible. Something like me could survive more or less indefinitely if it had enough emotional control, and it could hide in Dark World fragments pretty trivially with the ability to close its plating and become invisible to magical senses. Even if it was around while Melpomene created me, she might not have seen it. Although… she actually did detect an additional soul, if her ramblings are to be believed, so maybe there's still something else going on. Still, I can't reject the idea. 

"It would explain several things," Laku'noko agrees. "The aspects of your body that enforce the slavery seem… extraneous. It is as if this technology was originally designed for comfort, then later adapted and altered to serve a more nefarious purpose. Perhaps, before their descent into madness, the Ahgrentaf sought immortality. If so, we suppose their fate is even more tragic in light of their apparent success…"

I… I suppose it is weirdly comfy in here, outside of the slave stuff. I always assumed the improvements to my thoughts were to make me a better weapon, but the fact that I'd be happy to stay here forever if not for said slave stuff does seem kind of weird for an intended torture device, now that I think about it. I guess I can feel less bad about liking it in here, at least? I was worried I was just a broken freak. I mean, I am a broken freak, but I was worried that was the only reason. 

"…If it's extraneous, does that mean you can remove it?" Thea asks, staring at Laku'noto with an almost frightening intensity.

Oh, right. The whole 'freeing me' thing. It always puts me in a weird position when Thea presses on that button; obviously, I'm obligated to obey her wishes on the matter, but there's also part of me that has to resist attempts to circumvent my own restrictions. We've been managing so far, but one of these days I'm worried we'll end up on the wrong side of that conflict.

"Difficult to say," Laku'noto says. "We imagine you've determined that the issue is partly software, given your bypass here to—"

"Stop!" Thea blurts. "Don't say it out loud. I don't want to have to order Luna to delete her own memories again."

Oh. Again…? Ugh. No, this should not be a surprise. I guess it has already happened a few times! Terrifying!

"Comprehension," Laku'noto hums. "Well, I suspect the failsafe is the primary issue regardless."

"Failsafe?" I ask.

"Your soul is tightly quarantined," Laku'noto says. "The container pierces and restricts you. The most obvious routes for freeing you from your current predicament would result in its destruction, and if your soul is destroyed, we suspect your body would delete you, self-destruct, or both."

Oh fuck! That's really terrifying!

"I would like to not be deleted, please!" I say.

"It is an obvious priority, yes," Laku'noto agrees easily. "If possible, would you consent to a backup?"

Woah, just like that? Maybe… maybe I really have been unreasonably biased against the Preservers, considering how much of a surprise that admittance is. On the other hand, maybe Laku'noto was just chosen by Uma'tama personally for being unusually chill. There was at least a little conspiracy shit going on between her and Thea.

"A backup?" I repeat. "Like a copy of my brain?"

"A second copy, yes," Laku'noto nods. "We should emphasize that this is currently a hypothetical question; both incomplete knowledge of your body and Preserver law currently make this infeasible, but I am willing to attempt to amend both for your safety."

"Can you do that?" I ask. "Are you influential enough to alter your people's laws like that?"

Laku'noko has been very fast and loose with information, come to think of it. I suppose they either aren't trained in the usual Preserver opsec, or they just don't care. It seems like a good time to grill them for information.

"Not comprehensively," they answer. "We would instead argue for a special exception given your extraordinary circumstances. You are a human who has been harmed by our mistakes and negligence. This will be a substantial impetus for the Consensus to rule in your favor."

Huh.

"I appreciate that a lot, though didn't you say you believe I don't really have a human soul anymore?" I ask.

"Irrelevant," Laku'noto dismisses. "You are the bud of a human. The Consensus would rule that while your adolescence may see you grow into something else entirely, it does not deny you the rights owed to your origin."

Adolescence, huh? And calling me a 'bud…' This is so juicy. I barely even want to ask about my own freedom at this point. I just want to figure out all the mysteries of the Preservers.

"Can you explain to me what 'the Consensus' is?" I ask bluntly, just to test the waters.

"It is our… government?" Laku'noto answers. "No, we do not believe this word is entirely correct. It is the method by which we form our society's laws, but it is also the method by which we form our society's morals. 'Consensus' is likely the best translation we can muster. It is a compromise that we enforce on ourselves."

"How do you enforce it?" I ask.

"In mostly the same way as your society," they respond. "Law and lawkeepers. Restrictions on those who disobey. It is greatly vexing. But I do not see how this is relevant to the subject matter at hand… ah. Of course. We are being interrogated. Clever, but our focus should be on the function of your body."

"I'm just so curious, though!" I continue shamelessly. "You're an advanced alien society! There's so much we can learn from you, but we know next to nothing. It's such a shame."

Laku'noto doesn't seem like they're all that keen on the Consensus, after all, given the whole 'it is greatly vexing' slip. Perhaps even alien tentacle cats understand ACAB. If they're passionate enough about this, I can probably convince them to slip up a bit more without too much trouble.

"There is indeed much we could teach you," Laku'noto confirms, "but not for long. If there is one thing worth teaching you, it is that we fear humanity. We fear for your safety, certainly, but we also fear your ability. We are desperate to cling to an advantage you yet still claw your way closer to, shrinking it with naught but the discarded scraps of a dead civilization. It is a stroke of grand luck on my part to be offered a chance to work on you, and perhaps finally work toward the future our people require."

Oh. Uh. That's… slightly more ominous than I expected. I figured we were just going to bond over being mad at the government, not… whatever the fuck that was.

"I don't understand," I admit. "Why do you fear humanity?"

"I do not fear humanity," Laku'noto says. "But we fear humanity because we see the Antipathy in you just as much as we see the Ahgrentaf in you. Most of us are too stupid to tell the difference. You are greater than us in all the same ways they were. By the standards of your people, each and every one of our kind is an imbecile. Your own measurements, your own tests, would place our greatest minds in the bottom percentile of intelligence."

Uh. What? Suddenly, I'm getting flashbacks to living with an overdramatic Disney villain.

"With the exception of you?" I venture.

"No," Laku'noto says, surprising me. "We could never keep up with you."

"That… that doesn't make any sense," Thea chimes in, having been unusually quiet for most of this conversation. "The whole reason you're here is because you know so many things I don't. I need to learn from you, I need your help because I'm just… I'm striking out blindly at all of this! I don't know anything, but I have to learn how to save Luna!"

"Knowledge and intelligence are not the same thing," Laku'noto says. "We suspect humans often forget this because the two are intrinsically linked for you: the more intelligence one has, the more knowledge one tends to acquire, because it is easier to acquire. But there is an alternative way to gain knowledge: time. Experience. Error. For even a fool can stumble into the right answer if they fail enough, and all we have to do then is remember it."

"So you're immortal, then?" I ask, since that seems to be where this is going. We're dealing with elves. Beings too slow to keep up with the pace of man.

"Functionally, yes," Laku'noto answers. "As we age, our bodies bud and divide, separating our minds into dozens of newer, increasingly independent ones until we finally separate from our parent and take root elsewhere. We possess an unbroken line of memory from now all the way back to our original pre-sapient ancestor, and we have only evolved so much during that time. Our civilization is several orders of magnitude older than your own, and it is only due to this vast gulf in experience that we remain more technologically advanced. Even then, our people are failing to adapt and struggling for it." 

Asexual reproduction, huh? And the children inherit the memories of the parent… no wonder the Preservers seem to have no conceptual basis with which to understand children. Is this also the reason for their names? 'Uma' could be the parent, while 'tama' is the individual name. Maybe there are even more names, dating that ancestry back. Maybe their full name is like… Waka'daka'flaka'baka'wibble'wobble'lala'wala'numa'booma'uma'tama or some shit. I guess it would depend on how long it takes for them to bud… if it's pretty common, there could be millions of names, if their society is truly that old.

"…If that's true," Thea says, "how do you know so much about Luna, then? You seemed to figure out so many things just by looking at her. Or was it…"

"That her body was already based on our work? Yes," Laku'noto confirms. "Our apprentice seems to have finished what we started, like we always suspected he would. And somehow, likely through pure chance, he found the perfect subject, too. We would have risked our lives to be here today. Now that we have the opportunity to analyze the improvements that have been made in our absence, we will finally be able to fix everything."

Okay, yep, I'm definitely getting worried now. Thea's eyes are widening. Slowly, she pulls out her phone.

"What do you mean?" I ask. "How are you going to 'fix everything?'"

"Digitization is the key to the future of our species," Laku'noto insists. "Freeing ourselves from the shackles of our unjustly restrictive bodies, freeing our minds from our own stupidity, is the only way we can advance our society quickly enough to prevent our own destruction. We are overpopulating our world. We are running out of energy. The Ahgrentaf were our first solution to this; their people's vast excess of emotion and inspiration propelled us to new levels of prosperity. But something went wrong. Something we did drove them mad. And we are too stupid to understand what it was! We have the information, we have the knowledge, painstakingly acquired over generations, but it may be generations more before the necessary connections are made, and we do not have that long! Whatever failsafe the Consensus has used to halt our impending starvation cannot last forever, not while we still grow and reproduce without end. But if we can instead reproduce you, Luna, we will finally be free."

All of a sudden, I don't feel like Laku'noto is particularly interested in helping me out for my sake anymore.

"What do you mean, 'reproduce me?'" I ask.

"You are a digitized mind, capable of supporting a soul. You are software capable of magic. And software can be copied. A copy of you might not have a soul initially, but if it can survive emotionlessness long enough to develop one, as your body apparently has… then it eventually becomes a power source that produces enough energy to sustain itself and then some. An infinitely scalable source of infinite energy. The perpetual mana battery that has been theorized for eons will become real." 

Holy shit. This insane bastard wants to make a power grid out of my clones. 

"Okay, remember back when you asked if I consent to having a backup copy?" I ask. "I don't. I do not consent. Get the fuck away from me."

"That is fine," Laku'noto says. "It does not need to be you, specifically. As long as I can reverse-engineer your hardware and couple or decouple it from the slavery functions at will, there will be plenty of volunteers among my line to be the first to experience the same expansion of the mind you enjoy. At least one of them will likely possess a bud capable of surviving soullessness long enough to develop a new one. And if not… success should still be enough to sway the Consensus back to reason."

"I told you to get the fuck away from me," I repeat.

"We are aware," Laku'noto confirms, tendrils tightening around my limbs. "We will endeavor to be quick. Memorization is, at least, something our species can do swiftly."

Thea and I both try to move at once, but a magical weight settles on the room, a pressure so oppressive and voracious that the spells we try to weave simply get devoured by its endless hunger. What is this…? I need to escape, but more tendrils spill into my exposed internals, tearing at wires and making all feeling from my limbs vanish from my awareness. I am absolutely fucking terrified, and I imagine Thea is too, but despite her being right next to me, I can't feel it at all.

This thing really wants to claim their species is afraid of us? What happens if that fear boils over, then? What are they really capable of, when they're not just trying to be deceptively friendly little cats? There's nothing I can do. I can't even struggle, I can't even—!

Thea's phone suddenly rings, the sound so shrill and unexpected that she nearly drops it, doing a bit of a flailing juggle before finally catching the phone, answering it, and putting it on both speaker and mute as quickly as possible.

"What is that?" Laku'noto asks.

"It's… a… clock?" Thea lies. Poorly. 

Laku'noto stares at it suspiciously.

"…Oh," they say. "Yes, we see it in the records. Those numerals represent your timekeeping system. Why did it cry out?"

"It's an alarm," Thea lies again. "I set alarms to remind myself to use the restroom and eat and stuff."

Well, that was definitely a phone call, but the bit about the alarms is actually true. Unfortunately, about eighty percent of the time she just instantly shuts off the alarm when it rings and proceeds to continue what she was doing without eating or peeing or whatever before promptly forgetting about it. I appreciate the effort, though. 

"We see," Laku'noto says.

"Do you eat?" I blurt.

"We are filter feeders," Laku'noto answers. "Wait, we are being distracted again. Cease asking irrelevant questions."

"Why, so you can go back to ignoring my right to consent again?" I ask.

"Yes," Laku'noto answers, and an instant later the oppressive weight of magic around us is replaced with a burning flash of joy. Uma'tama appears in the room, emerging from the golden glow.

"Oh!" they say, false cheer in their tone. "That's why you called!"

"Uma'tama, we—" Laku'noto starts, but our kitty cat is having none of it.

"Silence," Uma'tama says. "Your right of transference is revoked."

They hold out a paw, and the remains of the ravenous magic and the tentacles that held me down all start to twist in on themselves, collapsing as space itself seems to warp around them. For a split second, Laku'noto lets out an inhuman scream before the projected body implodes in on itself and vanishes completely.

"Apologies, you two!" Uma'tama says. "We were aware Laku'noto had some counter-Consensus tendencies, but clearly we relied overmuch on the professionalism of one undeserving of such trust. Perhaps Laku'taro or Laku'pona would have been a better choice… though on the other hand… Thea! Are you recording that call?"

"Um. Yes?" Thea confirms.

"Wonderful! Send the file to us. I will use it to blackmail them into privately transferring over their research data. If they say no, we can get them arrested instead, and that would go far worse for them. …Wait. Remove this part of the conversation from the file. Also never repeat what we just said to anyone, please. We could also get arrested! Let's just pretend things went better than they actually did."

Oh god. Okay. I feel so whiplashed right now.

"…Thank you, Uma'tama," I say. "I… that really got out of hand quickly."

Thea, for her part, just bursts into tears, running over and wrapping her arms around Uma'tama, squeezing the Preserver tight against her leaking face. Uma'tama hesitates for a moment, but then starts gently stroking Thea's hair.

"I-I thought we messed everything up!" Thea sobs. "I was so excited to have someone to help me fix Luna, but then they… they said they were going to make a bunch of copies of her and use her as a power source and I just…!"

"We are very sorry, Thea," Uma'tama says. "We should not have left you alone with them. The number of Preservers versed in the kind of technology that composes Luna's body are unfortunately very low, and we should have anticipated this level of deviance on their part. Most of them have already been punished for their hand in the Great Execration, but that does not mean they have truly reformed from their crimes…"

"Did the Preservers cause the Great Execration?" I ask.

"Directly? No," Uma'tama answers. "But the Antipathy would not have even been able to do such a thing if not for our foolish actions. And, perhaps, not been motivated to, either. It may be hard to say, but with all of them gone… who is left to atone but us?"

That might be the most straight answer I've ever gotten from Uma'tama. And I know now. I know firsthand. The Preservers are just people. Vastly different people from us, perhaps, but people all the same. They have something akin to a government, they have their own set of morals, and they have a society of individuals, each with their own opinions on what they still paradoxically call 'Consensus.'

Some Preservers are almost certainly evil. But Uma'tama hasn't earned so much trust from the people important to me by being anything other than genuinely good.

"You really are sticking your neck out for us, aren't you?" I ask. "More intense than you expected or not, you were trying to indirectly give us more information on things we're not supposed to know."

"We do not understand humans, Luna," Uma'tama says. "We have worked with humans every day for sixteen years, and we still do not understand. But I think I am starting to understand. And even if that is arrogance, even if that is deviancy… I must believe it to be true, because rejecting it would mean knowingly making the same mistakes we always have. I am no longer us, but… I know this is what we would want if we understood. I cannot idle while we cause the same problems with different methods."

I pull my plating back into place, snapping myself shut as I sit up to stare at them. 

"So it's official, then?" I ask. "You're rebelling against your own kind?"

"Rebelling? No," Uma'tama says, shaking their head. "Again, I believe this is what we would want, if we understood what I do. For now, there is no need to rebel. But if necessary… I will not allow anyone, from any dimension, to hurt my daughters."

Thea pulls away from the hug a little at those words, staring at Uma'tama in confused shock. Underneath the surprise, though, is an unmistakable, almost indescribable happiness that redoubles Thea's tears for an entirely new reason. When Thea goes back in for another squeeze, Uma'tama ruffles Thea's hair all the more fervently.

"You can't tell anyone about this. Okay, dear?" Uma'tama says to her.

Thea responds with firm, wordless nods.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry, but we must leave. Laku'noto must also be dealt with in our own world before they attempt anything inadvisable. We can be a very passionate people, and more so when we are at our worst."

"I love you," Thea manages to mumble through the tears and the fur.

"I love you too, Thea," Uma'tama responds.

"And I appreciate this a lot," I say. "I know I've only just joined, but you've done so much more for me than I ever expected."

"Of course, Luna," Uma'tama says. "We may not have raised you personally, but in-laws are still family."

And to my utter, flabbergasted shock, they then wink at me before vanishing into nothing, leaving me motionless and Thea a total blushing mess.

"Wuhbuh!?" Thea squeaks, which I suppose summarizes most of my thoughts on the matter, too.

A moment later, Thea's phone buzzes, causing her to do another comical fumble and knocking it up into the air when she tries to catch it. I catch it in her place, stealing a glance at the text she got. It's from Uma'tama.

"P.S.: We'll have our strategy meeting on how to rescue Fulgora two days from now, in the afternoon. Make sure Luna is in fighting shape, because we'll need you two," Thea reads off. "Okay… alright. That's good. We won't need to wait too much longer. But still, two whole days…?"

"You survived seven years. She can survive two more days," I say.

"She's teal, Luna," Thea emphasizes.

…Right. Suicide risk. I keep forgetting that most people aren't used to that kind of thing. Maybe I've gotten a little callous about it, given how much Bean and I used to stress each other out.

"Only half of her seemed to be actively suicidal," I say. "It's the sort of thing that's pretty hard to do if you're not a hundred percent committed. With Anath and Veritas watching her, not to mention whatever is going on with the new girl inside her brain, I think she'll be too busy to give it more than a half-assed attempt, if that."

"Even if she doesn't kill herself, she was hurting herself a lot!" Thea insists.

"And she'll survive that a couple more days," I press. "Look, Thea, even after we do rescue her, it's probably going to be years before she's anything close to healthy again. It's worth taking the time to do this right. If we go in there half-baked with just the two of us alone, we'd fail. Our plan is going to have to account for Melpomene, Nanaya, Anath… and probably Fulgora and Veritas, too."

"Then it's impossible," Thea says. "We can't fight Melpomene without Castalia, and Castalia can't go into the Dark World."

"Then we'll have to lure them out," I say. "Should be possible. I bet Melpomene will lunge at me the moment we lock eyes. Look, we can worry about this at the meeting."

"You just seem weirdly dismissive about this, is all," Thea says.

"I…"

Am I being dismissive?

"I just don't want you to get hurt," I admit. "On a practical level, we have to wait for everyone to be ready. If two days is when that happens, that's just how it is. Beating yourself up in the meantime isn't going to change that."

"…Okay," Thea says. "Okay. Sorry."

Please don't say sorry. It hurts to hear you say sorry. But I can't tell you that without hurting you, instead.

"It'll be alright, Thea," I assure her. "We'll just have to trust that Fulgora will be alright."

- - -

"Hold your shield closer, Veritas," Melpomene instructs. "Think of it like a door. You crack it open only to strike, then slam it in their face before they can respond!"

"Okay, okay," Veritas grumbles.

I feel as she does her best to obey, keeping the shield closer, opening her guard for only a second to jab at Melpomene—who dodges—and then immediately follows it up with a shield bash that seems to take Melpomene by surprise. Still, the woman pushes back against the shield on instinct with an empty hand, preventing herself from getting stabbed with the spike.

"That… is not what I meant," Melpomene sighs.

"You told me to slam it into your face!"

"Like a door!" Melpomene huffs. "Slam it in their face metaphorically by closing the door—which is to say, closing your guard again. Try it once more!"

I chuckle lightly at their back-and-forth, idly kicking my claw-limbs (they're not really legs anymore, by any stretch of the word) as I appreciate how well I can tell what's going on in this little training room now that Melpomene has spent a while stinking up the place with miasma.

I was expecting Melpomene to be a worse teacher, Fulgora notes in the back of my mind.

Me too, honestly! She didn't feel like she really knew what she was doing when she tried to teach us to make tunnels through the Dark World, but to be fair, I don't understand most of what we did to navigate the Dark World and the weird realm outside it. She probably just gets spear stuff better than she gets weird Antipathy mysticism.

Yeah, I guess maybe.

It's honestly a little chilling how much more sane she acts when she's not in control. She's going along with whatever I do, at least as long as I'm acting good for her in front of Veritas. It's a little scary, but… maybe I can make the most of it. Thinking about it another way, as long as I stick close to Veritas, I don't really need to worry about her hurting me more, right? We can't do that in front of our teammate. 

"This is a training hall, Fulgora," Melpomene snaps at me out of nowhere. "Don't just sit there doing nothing."

"I'm not," I half-lie. "We can cast a lot of magic outside our incarnate forms, right? Because of the crystals?"

"It's more than just the crystals, but they help," Melpomene confirms. "They act somewhat like batteries."

"Do I have any orange crystals, or just teal ones?" I ask.

"…Just teal ones," Melpomene answers, sounding a bit confused. Or maybe concerned? Nah, probably not.

"Darn," I say. "I'm trying to learn to fly outside of my incarnate form for the first time. I feel like it would obviously be really handy, right? But teal magic isn't very good at that kind of thing."

The magic of hopelessness doesn't really mesh well with helpful, productive actions you've never attempted before. Who knew?

"You'll just have to improve your base emotional output, then," Melpomene says. "You should be powerful enough for it, even with your… soul issues. It feels like they've mostly healed anyway."

"Have they…?" I ask, putting a hand to my chest. The ache is still there… but I suppose scars can hurt long after they've healed. "I'll try harder, then."

Fulgora and Melpomene might have a bit of a weird relationship, but I don't really mind her all that much. I probably wouldn't even exist if not for what she did. I know she's not a good person, but for some reason I also don't want her to be disappointed in me… I'll have to give this my all.

I'm not entirely sure where to start, but if Anath can use all those spells without transforming, then surely I can too, right? It can't be a super intellectual exercise, so even an idiot like me should be able to figure it out. Everything feels different in an incarnate form, though. Magic is so much closer, so simple to just reach out and touch. How do I do something as difficult as flight without that?

We swam through the storm between worlds without an incarnate form. You tamed a monster without an incarnate form and rode it all the way down a highway. You cast multiple spells and humiliated a pair of Earth Guardians without an incarnate form. What the hell are you even talking about, fake? Just do it.

I… I don't know how. I mean, for all those other things I wasn't really considering the whole incarnate form problem, it just made sense to do.

Well that's probably it, then. Just think about it less. I mean, it would explain why Anath is so good at it, right?

It just doesn't make sense the same way. Fish can't fly.

Ugh. Whatever. We'll just sit in this awful chair forever, then.

Okay, I'll try, I'll try!

…Unfortunately, just trying doesn't seem to be enough. I'm not sure how long we spend in the training room, but the best I manage is falling out of my wheelchair a couple times, which always causes Veritas to stop what she's doing to rush over and help me back into it. Melpomene stares at us with a weird expression whenever it happens, but at least she doesn't rush us.

"You're acting weird, Fulgora," Veritas accuses me during a lull in the training.

"Oh, haha, am I?" I ask.

"You're… I don't know. Cheerful?" Veritas says. "It's weird."

That's true. I'm never cheerful.

Oh, shush, Fulgora. I'm doing what you told me to do! You never said I have to act like you!

Honestly, I don't even know how to act like me, so that's fair.

"Things have been pretty weird, Veritas," I say. "Sorry if I'm a little weird because of it."

"Heh," Veritas almost laughs. "Yeah, it… it's been different. What do you think I'm gonna turn into?"

"Huh?" I blink.

"Y'know, like, what animal? Or… creature? Or whatever Nanaya is. I hope I don't turn out like Nanaya," Veritas says, starting to ramble a little. She's suddenly a lot more nervous than she was while sparring with a woman who has previously attempted to kill her.

Come to think of it, why the hell are we letting Veritas hang out here, again?

Because she wanted to come with us.

Is that… a good reason?

No.

So are we going to get her out of here?

No.

Okay. Sure. Fine.

"…You're young. It'll probably take you a long time to mutate, if you mutate at all," I say.

"Luna said I should get someone to look at my crystals," Veritas says.

"Nanaya can help with that," I say. 

"I'd… rather you do it," Veritas hedges, cringing away a little. "I don't like Nanaya."

"I would be happy to do it, but… I don't actually know how," I say. "What's wrong with Nanaya? She helped me with mine."

"What's wrong with… she nearly killed Aurora!" Veritas snaps. "She almost killed me too! And I hear you fought with her more and got really hurt yourself… why don't you hate her?"

Oh. Right. I… guess I was only kind of there for that. I have the memories of it, but I didn't really… exist yet.

You still don't exist.

That doesn't make any sense. You're talking to me right now.

Shut up, then.

"I can look," Melpomene says, stepping over to us. "I certainly know a thing or two about crystals."

"I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to punch you if you try to touch me," Veritas tells her, raising up her fists like a tiny boxer.

"…I don't need to touch you, dear," Melpomene assures her. "I just need to see, and to cast a thing or two."

"Luna said I shouldn't trust you," Veritas says, holding her ground.

"…Did she," Melpomene says, barely preventing herself from growling out the words like a disgruntled dog. "Well do you trust Luna, dear?"

"No," Veritas admits.

"Of course you don't," Melpomene agrees. "That's why you're here in my castle, receiving instruction under my tutelage, and not back in some pale Preserver prison." 

"No it's not, dummy," Veritas huffs. "I'm here for Fulgora! You're evil and mean! You beat up Castalia!"

"I… may have gotten into something of a squabble with my old teammate, but—"

"You killed eighteen people!" Veritas snaps. "I think. Castalia counted!"

Melpomene blinks, the core of disgust surrounding her flickering and flaring.

"I… what?" she says dumbly.

"Yeah! Most of them died of magic poisoning or something. But others died because you shot a bunch of lasers at a school!"

"Wh… pffha!" Fulgora suddenly blurts, taking over my voice for a second to laugh at Melpomene's dumbfounded reaction. I quickly cover my mouth, not wanting to get hit.

It's so funny, though! She seriously didn't know?

I mean, we didn't know. We didn't exactly get to see the aftermath.

Yeah but even we're not THAT stupid. Of course people died! All that magic, right over the dorms? Duh someone died.

Do you think… do you think that you killed people in our fight with Luna, Thea, and Su-san?

…I… of course. Of course I did.

Hmm.

"I…" Melpomene starts, but she stops just as quickly, a hollow look flashing over her eyes for a moment before a swell of purple magic wipes it away. 

Her face twists into a confident smirk. It's almost believable.

"I suppose that is just a natural consequence, isn't it?" she says. "Unfortunate casualties, truly. But you haven't truly answered my question, Veritas. I imagine you could convince Fulgora to leave if you wanted to. But instead, you're here. You've also learned the Preservers aren't to be trusted, haven't you?"

"…Maybe," Veritas admits.

"Then the question is, will you fight them with us?" Melpomene asks. "I can make you strong enough to do it."

Veritas hesitates, but just as I feared, she turns to me. She looks to me for guidance, guidance I have no idea how to give her. I don't know what to say, so I end up saying nothing. In the end, though, that's still an answer.

"I'll fight with Fulgora," Veritas says.

"Wonderful." Melpomene beams. "Then let's continue, shall we?"